Looking Forward

Three more weeks and I will have a baby in my arms. My daughter. This thought has alternately terrified me, thrilled me, and made me vaguely nauseous. I think if I wasn't getting so horribly uncomfortable, I would probably want another couple of months to get used to the idea.

But I don't. Cause yeah, am SERIOUSLY getting uncomfortable here.


Still, I wonder - ALL the time. Will I be a good mother? What kind of person will she be? Can I really balance working full time and parenting? Will she think we're completely weird?

Okay, I don't wonder much about that last one. EVERYONE thinks we're completely weird. Mostly they think its endearing, though. Right?


I do a really good job of verbalizing my concerns (a word here meaning obsessive-compulsive worrying and freaking out) but rarely give my happy thoughts anything like the same amount of airtime. So without further ado:

Things I Am Looking Forward To, In A Non-Freaking Out Way

Meeting this baby. You would be excited to meet someone, too, if they had been kicking you repeatedly for the past nine months. Although, probably for different reasons. But it seems like she has such a PERSONALITY already. Don't tell me I'm imagining it! She continues to play freeze tag with her grandmothers, even though my students can SEE her moving from ACROSS THE ROOM.

Holding this baby. I can't really elaborate on that - I just reallyreallyreally want to. Like, my arms hurt just thinking about it.

Dressing her up in all the adorable clothes we've been given. All of which are completely gender neutral, of course. NOT. There is so much pink in the nursery, chances are I'll lose her if I put her in a pink sleeper and lay her down for a second. But they ARE scrumptious. And I'm dying to see if those 0-3 months onsies will fit. Because if you ask me, they look entirely too small to ever be worn by a human person.

Not weighing 9000 pounds. Enough Said.

Singing to her. Well, I do this already, I guess. But I do love to sing, and Joey and I have found some special songs just for her that we sing. I think she'll enjoy this because 1.) Don't babies usually like singing? and 2.) When we are singing next to each other at church, she starts moving around like crazy. Either dancing happily or writhing in agony. Hey, whatever! I think she just likes the sound of her daddy's beautiful bass harmonizing.
ps. Can I just say how hot it is, having a husband who sings?

Going for walks around our neighborhood. With the exception of one three-hundred year old lady who growls at me and slams the door when I smile and wave, we have a really friendly neighborhood. Perfect for stroller pushing/dog walking. Also there is a park, and tons of trees. And by the way, Mrs. Cranky Pants, I WILL smile, wave, and even holler 'hi!' every time I see you. And I? Will BREAK YOU. You might have had a lot longer to practice being grouchy, but I am stubborn, and soon I will have reinforcements who will probably be able to charm the paint off walls.

All the holidays. I loved realizing this Christmas that NEXT Christmas, we will have an Ariel to celebrate with. And we can make her wear insanely fancy party dresses!


Taking pictures of her. Because, yeah, I plan to do a LOT of that.

Reading to her. Duh. But really, I really am. There are so many books I can't wait to share with her. Probably like a thousand.

Watching her grow. In spite of all my worrying, I'm sure. That's what it has felt like this whole time, anyway. Pretty much from May 17th onward, the three of us have been having this conversation:
Lucy: Omigod Omigod, *something* is wrong with the baby! I just KNOW IT. *runs around in circles until smacking into a wall*
Joey: Whatever. This baby is a Valiant. Is strong like bull, I tell you.
Ariel: Dude, I'm fiiiiine. Just sitting in here ignoring you, growing some fingernails.

I just have a strong feeling that this child has inherited those annoyingly mellow genes from her father's side of the family.

Realizing I CAN do this. It is weird to be looking forward to something I worry so much about. I think I KNOW somehow that eventually I will look back and laugh at myself for worrying and doubting . Kind of how I laugh at my 18 year old self for being CONVINCED that she would die alone, never having anyone ask her out, and WHAT was wrong with her, was it her looks? Her personality? BOTH???

And then what, you were single for all of five minutes, dude. Get a grip.


Joey loves my affinity for using the word 'dude'. Because it makes me sound like Hurley from Lost. Which is fine with me because:
1.) Hurley is my FAVORITE character and always has been.

2.) He threw a hot pocket at Ben, which is something I have wanted to do for a very long time. It just needed to happen.

3.) We're starting to look alike!