Eagle Scouts can't keep secrets

GAHHHH! So we weren't able to keep the baby's sex a secret. If you remember from this post, I smugly stated that, for various reasons, we would not be sharing that information until Meatball reared her ugly head. Eventually Mitch decided to grow a pair and tell me he did not like that idea, and wanted to tell people at our baby shower. I tried to compromise by suggesting we wait until we get another sonogram to confirm that it's actually a girl (babe's a squiggler; makes for blurry photographs), to which he said, "no." Plus, I had accidentally slipped a pronoun a couple of times, so really I just can't be trusted.

Anyway, he just started telling people, so now the cat's out of the bag. Now I just have to keep the name a secret. But seriously, if this baby's not actually a girl, I'm going to be super pissed and tell all y'all I told you so.

silver lining

I never thought I would want to stay home with my babies. I grew up with a mother who told me (in so many words) that I should never have to be financially dependent on my partner. Repeatedly. A lot. So I have some pretty strong feelings about education and staying relevant in a career field. I always just figured that I would pop out a baby, take my obligatory 12 weeks of maternity leave, and head back to the office. Oh that I could have a few words with myself from a year ago.

I still want to head back to the office, but over the last few months, I had started to feel like I want to have more flexibility and time at home with the Nugget. I found myself daydreaming about trips to the zoo and play dates, Pinning craft activities and homemade baby food recipes. But I kept telling myself that it wasn't the right time; I was finishing my MPH and needed to put my husband through grad school.

Lucky for me, my boss called me last week to tell me I was losing my job. A grant we submitted got shot down by the NIH. BAM. No more funding. In four to six weeks I would be packing up four and a half years of office trinkets and paperwork. She got me an interview, but it turned out this other lab could not hire me full time. At most, they could offer me four days a week. Apparently I'm just too damn expensive (I know...feel sorry for me).

I had always justified working full time as a mom by thinking that I needed to so that we could save for retirement, Nugget's college, and pay off student loans. I wanted to do all of these things very quickly. We live well within our means, but I get very anxious about having any kind of debt, and the debt that comes with graduate school can be intimidating, no matter how much it increases your earning potential. But here presents this opportunity to have some extra time at home with our baby, and I suddenly find myself feeling differently. This job situation is, at best, temporary, and we would save some money on childcare (which is like, totally outrageous by the way). It's only funded through the beginning of 2014, which is a good time for tossing that kid's ass in full time day care.

So, I took it. Granted it's only one work day fewer per week, but that translates to a 20% decrease in pay. I had always anticipated working 60 hour weeks once I finished grad school so I could rake in the big bucks. Instead, for the next 18 months we will water down our hand soap and and stop buying organic ketchup. I hope Nugget's cool with community college.

wtf is this

So I started looking up stuff for our baby registry today, and I stumbled across this piece of cirque du soleil medieval torture seizure trigger. I can't tell if there are really six arches on it, or if they just move. It almost looks crazier because of the overstimulated hyperbaby in the seat, and makes me think that I would probably need to take a nap after just looking at it.

Buying baby crap is just ridiculous. I don't know why they need so much stuff. I know some of it really is superfluous (wipe warmers?), but I feel like I'll probably be viewed as a bad/lazy/cheap/uneducated parent if I don't buy or register for some of it. Regardless, I'm so overwhelmed by the choices, I can't make a decision anyway. On buybuybaby.com, there are over 300 strollers. THREE HUNDRED. How is any new parent supposed to make that kind of decision, especially while under the duress of becoming a new parent?!

Is it reversible? Because you know the baby doesn't develop object permanence until it's like, 2, and until then it'll freak out that you've disappeared everytime you push it away from you.

Is it neutrally-colored? You don't want society imposing gender stereotypes on such an impressionable mind.

Can you jog with it? 'Cuz your fat ass is going to need it since you're going to be pushing your baby instead of wearing it.

There are so many ways I can screw up this kid, and every decision I make regarding baby gear puts it one step either further from or closer to juvenile detention and the Maury Povich show. According to the dozens of pregnancy books I've read, I've already committed some acts of bad parenting, like sleeping with an electric blanket and drinking unfiltered tapwater. There's just too much to keep track of. That's why I wish there was like, a Trader Joe's of baby stuff. Just give me like, one or two versions of each thing I need. Make 'em safe, gender-neutral, and boring. Maybe all of us new Millenial parents wouldn't be so spazzy if we didn't have to make so many decisions that carried (in our own minds) such great weight. In fact, let's do the same thing for daycare, school, and pediatricians. Don't tell my in-laws I'm talkin' like a socialist.

Barefoot and pregnant

My husband and I decided to procreate. Almost through the first trimester, the only evidence is the rubber band holding my pants up and my huge rack. I feel pretty good, surprisingly.

For the most part, our friends are excited. Several of them have said something like, "omigosh you guys are going to be the most hilarious parents," which I take to mean, "omigosh it's going to be hilarious watching you try to raise a child." Several of them, upon hearing the news, immediately attempted to touch my belly, to which I say they must now touch Mitch's balls. And still, several others, have been all like, why?

Honestly, I don't know exactly how to justify or articulate it. We're both in grad school; I'm not working full time; we have a brood of animals to care for; and we have a million extracurriculars and a busy, fulfilling social life. We're really happy right now. Why would we go mucking that up? But I think this is precisely the environment into which a baby should be born. Our material lives are simple, and we have an amazing community of people who will help raise this child. Our marriage is stable and supportive, albeit boring. We'll always be busy; it's not in my nature to sit still. It will never be the perfect time to have a baby, ever. They're not here for our convenience. So I suppose now was as good a time as any, before my ovaries shrivel up and fall off.