"You are really emotional. You need to get a hold of yourself."
Aw. I am really going to miss my husband.
That said, he's totally right.
Am in a very weepy place right now. We had our baby shower on Sunday (photos and recap to follow!) and we received so many wonderful gifts for Ninj. As soon as we got home, I reviewed everything and made a list for thank you cards. At one point, I pulled out a book that Koos had given the baby.
It's called Whoever You Are, and okay, seriously? Here are the first few pages:
Little one, whoever you are,
Wherever you are,
There are little ones just like you all over the world.
Their skin may be different than yours, and their homes may be different than yours...
But inside, their hearts are just like yours.
Annnnddd... blubbering! "This is exactly what I want to teach our babies!" I sobbed to J, as I tossed him the book. "But I can't read the rest right now. I can't get through it."
In my continued heightened emotional state, I fretted about the shower. "I shouldn't have asked everyone to buy organic, natural items," I told my husband. "I feel like a brat." (Although, it was somewhat worth it to have my mother announce to the ladies present: "As most of you know, Melissa is 'green.'")
Yesterday, we had an interview with a pediatrician. I'm not sure how that went. Most of her answers were vague. (Taking a cue from Modern Family, I asked what her thoughts were on "Ferberizing" babies. I am not sure I can tell you what she said.) We didn't fall in love with her, but then, she could be a brilliant doctor. How do you know? I asked her how many vaccinations a child would receive over the years, and she couldn't tell us. But she did have a website we could visit. So... there's that. There are four other doctors in this practice. Do I now make appointments with the rest of them, or just hope that one of them is more our style?
Yes, I am probably overthinking this.
On the way home from the doc's, J and I decided to stop by the fire station to have the guys there take a look at our car seat.
How many firemen does it take to install an infant Graco Snugride? Three, apparently. And it takes awhile. These three gentlemen were very kind to help us, but at one point, seat installed completely improperly, they told us that we should probably by a new one. (Our car seat is a few years old. We got it from my aunt and uncle, who's baby is two now.)
I think my engineer husband actually figured it out... Which, he could have totally done anyway. But at least it is now fire safety approved.
So there's that.
When we finally arrived home, I bugged J to go online and figure out if this particular seat had ever been recalled.
"Do you want to just buy a new one?" he asked me, ever so slightly exasperated.
"What, J? I am not supposed to be concerned that our infant car seat works properly? You just want me to forget about it?"
"You're right," he said.
"You know, I just need to be alone right now," I huffed. I retreated upstairs with my O magazine.
So, yeah. Just a tad touchy over here. I am confident we'll weather this influx of hormones. Good luck, J.
In other news: pregnant Brazilian waxes? TRAUMA.