Monday, March 27, 2006

Be afraid, be very afraid

You know, I had these thoughts while I was pregnant with Emma... I asked John what are the chances that our next child would be as "focused" and "high maintenance" as our first. He said, "Come on, this is us we are talking about. The chances are pretty darn good." Naw, I tried to convince myself, this one will be a breeze.

As it turns out, Emma is Anna + 1 (sometimes 3 or 4). Emma is stronger, louder and more stubborn than Anna, which completely proves the point I made shortly after Em was born, and that point being this: Evidently John and I are a lethal combination when our genes combine, kinda like nitrogen and glycerin, and we should refrain from any further procreation. Sex is from now on purely for recreational purposes. But you didn't need to know that , did you?

*cough* Errr, anyway... Emma is a freak of nature. Our little bug is 3 days shy of her first birthday and is already saying 12 or more words (my brain shut down in shock at the count of 12, and could calculate no more), and knows/simulates 3 signs in American Sign Language. Here is a list of words, just so you get the picture- OH and by the way, yes she is already using 2 or 3 word combinations:
Wuz dat- what's dat
Wuh is dis- what is this
naz- nose (points to it when asked where her nose is)
dense- dance
pup- Veggie Puff
cot- cat
key- kitty
buh bah- bye bye
Hah!- Hi!
dada- dad
sizzith- sister
baybay- baby
upupup- up

I am pretty sure that despite the fact that Anna's first sentence was "Ahm maaaa" at about 14 months, which can be translated into "I'm mad", that we are pretty much screwed.

On a lighter note, we are going to Maryland! Emma's birthday is Thursday, then we fly on Saturday. At this point in her life, Anna had already flown 3 times (each time passing out shortly after take off because of the white noise), so this should be interesting. Emma does not like loud buzzing noises at all, and has to be held while I vacuum. Needless to say that the house gets a good once over about once a week because she is too heavy to hold while vacuuming anymore, so I have to wait until John gets home from work. Usually by then, I am too pooped to even think about it, and first thing I want to do is take a shower. I digress, as you know I will. Anywho, I hope Emma doesn't totally freak out because I am certain I will lose hearing in one or both of my ears.
*contemplates ear plugs*

I haven't seen Ben in almost 3 years, and have never met my nephew Matthew before and he will be meeting his niece for the first time also. I know the time will go too quickly, but I am excited just the same. Well, I actually have a bit of dread and excitement , if you want to know the truth. I had a full blown panic attack on Saturday . My aunt , whom I will be seeing also wants pictures of my girls, and the thought of the egg donor seeing them while visiting my aunt made me shake. Then I visualized seeing her and suddenly my heart tried it's hardest to pound it's way out of my chest, leaving little room for my lungs to function. I actually grabbed my husband's hand and placed it over the space my heart pummeled, frantically trying to catch my breath. At that moment, I was reduced to the four year old inside of me, filled with terror. My poor husband tried his best to comfort me by telling me that Maryland is a big place, to which I gulped, "It's not that big, have you seen it on a map?" The anxiety finally abated after about a half hour of furious gum chewing. I had to take my aggression out on something, and it did finally work. I sure showed that stick of trident.

Later I told my husband that I wanted to call my aunt and ask her to put the pictures away if she would be coming over, but I realized I have no control over that. I have such conflicting feelings... On one hand, I don't want her to see the pictures of Emma and think that she has a right to be in our lives. On the other, as I told John, part of me still has these fantasies that I could show up at her door and she would just hold me and tell me how much she loves and misses me. John shrugged and shook his head, "Well, I guess that could happen, and things would be good for a short while. Then it would devolve." He went on to say that he couldn't be sure that after things fell apart, naturally *sigh*, that he wouldn't beat the snot out of her for all that she has put us through.

I think my husband was telling me that he is NOT ok with the idea, and would not sit by quietly once the savage beast in my mother awoke and destroyed everything. This is sobering to me, and makes me realize just how selfish I am being. This doesn't affect just me, but my whole family. It makes me realize that my fantasy is just that, and no matter how pretty a picture my mind may paint, it will end the same way it always does. Either I will compromise myself and walk on egg shells because I might push her over the mental health cliff and/or end up not talking to her for another 2 1/2 years.

In the end, I was able to remember that I am not a child anymore. I have resolved to walk, not run, in the other direction if the beast is sighted. Hey, I'm a grown-assed woman, and she can't hurt me anymore, only if I let her.