Well, this is a blog post I never thought I'd be writing...
If you read Erik's blog or Borepatch's, you already know the punchline. This baby has something no other baby of mine has ever had before: a penis. I haven't quite put the diaper on the wrong end like I joked would probably happen, but I have experienced the urge to track down and slap every person who told me boy diapers are easier to change. Two words, people: floppy bits. Girls do not have anything that needs to be picked up and moved to clean underneath.
Not that I am unhappy with a boy. Just a bit in shock still. Erik announced the sex at birth, and even he was surprised. I know the odds are roughly even every single time, but you do not expect tails when you've gotten heads every other coin flip. Human nature, I guess. (Except, y'know, for all the people who figured I had to have a boy now, 'cause I'd run out of girl chances.)
He had to make his mark, too. I was the most pregnant I'd ever been (41w 4d), if only by a few hours, and he was my heaviest baby. One of the things I am always harping on is how unreliable ultrasound estimates of a baby's weight are, and he is the poster child for that. The day before he was born, the tech estimated his weight at 7lb 11oz; he was born 9lb 4oz. And he also was born, according to the midwife, with his hand up by his face. Let me tell you, even without drugs on board, I had no clue there was anything odd about his position when he was coming out. Honestly, until he was weighed, I still believed he was going to be in the vicinity of 7lbs, because he is a shorty.
I did promise music.
One of the singers Erik & I have a bit of a disagreement over is Alan Jackson. Erik places him right up there near King George; my opinion has always been meh at best, and that was before he started in with the tragically dead woman songs. (Which, by the way, are distinctly different from woman-killing songs, which I find far less irksome.) I don't demand deep meaning from my music for the most part, but nor am I terribly fond of novelty songs, and I still can't quite get past the mind-numbing irritation of "Chattahoochie" (by the way, darlin', that song is totally one of the progenitors of the brain-dead redneck party songs we both hate so much).
Today's song, however, is one of the reasons I do understand Erik's fondness for Jackson's music. It's one of his older tunes, a nice old-fashioned country waltz. I was mulling over what song to use for Fünf's entrance music, and for some reason this fits quite well. My life isn't quite what I'd expected, but it is good.
Hiç yorum yok:
Yorum Gönder