Baby Psycho
I've come down with that familiar condition again. Baby-Psycho. I coined the phrase myself. I think it's very eloquent. Though this feels like my worst case, I'll have to objectively admit that my worst case was probably with Connor. Baby-Psycho is characterized by an inability to think or talk about anything but the new baby, an overwhelming desire to see the new baby, getting teary at the sight of something as innocuous as a newborn-sized diaper, and a secret compulsion to look on the internet for weird concoctions that promise to get you in labor as soon as possible. Don't worry, I won't try any of them till 37 weeks. I haven't gone totally over the edge yet. When I was pregnant with Connor, though, I knew when I'd finally be meeting him, because I had a scheduled induction. This didn't really stop me from obsessing, though. I remember sitting in the nursery and just staring at the crib, trying to make a baby magically appear. Chris got seriously scared for my mental state one day when he came home and I had cut out a picture of a newborn and placed it on the bouncy seat, just so I'd be able to picture what it would look like when a baby came out. I had Baby-Psycho with Ror, too, but at least I had Connor to distract me, so it wasn't as severe as with my first pregnancy. With Riley Kate, I was consumed with Ror being in the hospital-- so much so that I had the opposite of Baby-Psycho. I had Baby-Denial. My water broke while I was sitting by Ror's bedside, and I thought, "Holy Cow, I just peed my pants!" The nurse came in and I repeated myself, and she said, "Honey, you're having a baby. Do you really think you could pee that much?"
But this time, whoa. Onset has occurred earlier than ever before. I've still got 2 weeks before I'm considered full term (37 weeks), and three weeks after that before I'm even "overdue." And I even have a never-before-seen symptom. I swear, when I look at pictures of newborns, it makes my uterus hurt. I can't take it anymore. I want to see the baby.
The children are not helping. As a matter of fact, they're exacerbating my mania. All they want to talk about are their big-sibling duties, the fun they'll have, how much they'll help, and how many kisses they will give the new baby. It's maddening. Just when I get myself really into a good game of Story-Chain with Connor and begin to be able to take my mind off of the baby, he interrupts with, "Hey, want me to kiss your tummy? I think my new baby sister wants me to talk to her!" Ror tends to spend alot of time shouting into my belly button and sticking his eye right up to it, trying to peer in and see her. Riley Kate is preparing by "mommy-ing" her dollies. She also does a very unflattering impersonation of me, during which she sticks out her tummy, puts one hand on her back, and waddles around, saying, "baby in the tummy. come out?"
Last week after my midwife appointment, the kids did give us a laugh that distracted me, for a little while, at least. We went out to lunch, and I mentioned the name of Katie's goddaughter, who is Connor's age. Connor asked, "Who's Jillian?" I explained, "Jillian is Katie's goddaughter. You know, it means that Katie is her Godmom, like Katie is Ror's Godmom." Ror asked incredulously, "Katie is my Katiemama?" Connor replied dryly, "No, Ror, she's your Sugarmama." Even after lengthy prodding, he still couldn't recall where he'd heard the phrase "sugarmama" before, but we sure got a kick out of it.
Riley Kate has reached a new level of shrillness that can only be described as stratospheric. But we're impressed, because it's mainly in response to someone tweaking her maternal instincts by putting her "baby" in the toy bag or out of her reach, which we feel is a good sign for our future grandkids. She's very focused on keeping an eye out for all of her baby's needs, whether they be a diaper change, a baby bottle (fed through either the mouth or eyeball), or a nice walk around the playroom during which she drags Maddie by the ankle. She has departed from OUR preferred parenting style and apparently sees a great deal of value in corporal punishment, because in recent days Maddie has taken a few lickings. But let Riley Kate see you attempt to put Maddie on the shelf or in the hands of Rory, and you'll hear a shrieking, "MY BABY! MY BABY! AAAAAGH! EEEEE! MY BABY! I WANT MY BABY!" Poor Paul, Maddie's twin (they're the Bitty Twins, from American Girl), gets no such preferential treatment. He occasionally gets some attention from Ror or Connor in the form of being the chosen victim of a dinosaur attack, but only once in a while does Riley Kate give him the nurturing that she gives Maddie.
The boys no longer wear regular clothing around the house, but prefer to traipse around in Halloween Costumes from this year or last. This morning Chris had a rather startling beginning to his day when he woke to find Spiderman, in full costume, leering over him. It's not uncommon to find a scary combination of The Thing's body wearing a Spiderman mask and Buzz Lightyear boots, battling a Mr Incredible who has crossed to the dark side and is bearing a light saber while protecting his head with a Buzz Lightyear helmet and Mickey Mouse sunglasses. As a matter of fact, Mr. Incredible himself has just arisen from his nap and demands my attention. TTFN.
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