Baby #2

This little one is only a few weeks from making its arrival (assuming it doesn't come early) and I feel so very out of sorts and unprepared.  When I was pregnant with B, I was buying second-hand dressers, stocking them with newly-laundered, freshly folded baby clothes and cloth diapers, and reading all the pregnancy books I could get my hands on to know exactly what to do when she arrived.  Now, at 36 weeks, I've managed to set up a small alcove in our master bedroom where I've stocked some shelves with all the baby essentials...but I must admit, I've spent much more time knitting Xmas gifts than I have reading about birthing techniques or what vegetable the baby most resembles at this week of the pregnancy.  Things have changed, but I can't quite figure out why.

I'm nervous...but not because of the unknown, but because of the known.  I know what an undertaking having a newborn in the house is...the constant diaper changes, clothing changes, spitup cleanup, breastfeeding, breastfeeding, breastfeeding.  At least in Michigan I had a community of friends to keep me company during those lonely first few weeks and months of figuring things out.  I know hardly anyone here, and the idea of being homebound with a newborn with no social outlets is a thought I really don't want to have to visit.

This little one is so incredibly active, perhaps surpassing even the activity B expressed when she was in my belly (and she was one active baby).  This one has kicked me so hard in the ribs I've screamed, and has woken me from sleep from feelings that it is pushing down, trying to get out of me.  It's unreal sometimes, but I also really like it.  Knowing that this is my last pregnancy does make me try to enjoy it--even the crampy, painful aspects--as much as I can.

This baby, or perhaps my age, makes me far more fatigued than I remember being while pregnant with B.  I have a hard time keeping my eyes open for much of the day, and doing anything physical can be daunting at best.  When I was in the final weeks of pregnancy with B, I was still planting trees and shrubs in the yard and had just finished a job that had me walking through prairies for much of the day.  Now, 4 1/2 years later, I can find it hard to just get out of bed in the morning and go downstairs, much less exert any physical labor.

Having said all this, I am so very excited to hold on to this little baby a little while longer, and enjoy our special time together before it's born.  We don't know the baby's gender, and are still working on finalizing names, so s/he can stay in utero for good while longer as far as I'm concerned.  There will be plenty of love waiting for him/her here on the outside whenever it's time for its arrival.

That Girl

For many reasons, I've decided to try taking a break from my Facebook ranting and do it here instead, since this is my own "private" space.  Facebook has a way of making me even angrier about things than I originally was, and so I feel a need to put some distance between me and the social network for awhile.

My latest and most continuous rant is about the way that our society treats our young girls.  Having suffered through bouts of teenage anorexia, bulimia and body image issues myself, I know how the pressure to conform to a predetermined idealized standard can be overwhelming.  I feel a need to rage against this for my own daughter.

But, it's not easy.
When you go to the costume store at Halloween, and the "boy" section has superhero options as well as career options (fireman, doctor, soldier, SWAT team member), and the "girl" section has only princesses and fairies...
When you go to the shoe store and the boy shoes are in a variety of colors and interesting character choices, and the girl section only offers pink shoes with the Disney princesses on them...
When your daughter is in love with the "How To Train Your Dragon" movies, and asks only for Hiccup and Astrid for Christmas, but the toy company has decided to make action figures of only the male characters from the movie, despite the fact that Astrid has a central role...
When you go to the newest Disney princess film, that's been marketed as the anti-princess movie because the girl can "do it on her own without a guy," but she still has to end up falling for a guy at the end of the movie, drilling in the point that a girl needs a guy in her life to feel complete...
When you go out in public, and the only thing people can talk to your daughter about is her looks--her hair, her beauty--and she begins to think that is the only valuable aspect of herself...
When your daughter tells you it's more important to her to be beautiful than it is to be smart...
When your daughter is afraid of getting a haircut because she wants her hair long and flowing like the Disney princesses, and thinks that's what makes her special...


These are the reasons I rant.  It's easy (actually, I think a cop out) for people to say, "Ah, it's just a phase!" or "You're her mother!  Your influence is what matters, and she'll outgrow it!"  I don't buy any of that.  The outside world has amazing and sometimes irreversible effects on the psyche of our young people, and no amount of "Mama loves you for who you are" and "Your heart is what makes you beautiful!" is going to compensate for the Am-I-not-so-pretty? images of Disney princesses and other media propaganda that is thrown at my impressionable four-year old all the time.  It's insane.  And so I rant and rage and try to rail against the status quo.  I try to start the dialogue with people who might never have considered this issue before.  I talk to my daughter all the time about the many reasons--none physical--that she is special.  I try to be the anti-pop culture.

But I fear I am failing.  Tonight, my daughter came into the house upset, after having played with some of the neighborhood girls.  She announced that it made her sad that those girls were smarter than she is.  When I asked her why she thought those girls were smarter, she said, "Because they have light hair" (they're blonde).

Here we go again.

Long Time, No Post

I'm still here, guiltily checking my blog for signs that it has imploded from disuse.  Lots of thoughts on tap for some forthcoming posts, however, so stay tuned.