If I were the type of blogger who was EVER organized, and put posts in little categories, we all know there would be a very FULL category labeled, “Public Freakouts.” It would include this one, this one, and this one just for starters.
And an even more full category labeled “At Home Freakouts.”
However! Today!!! Today there was a public freakout of the cutest variety possible, and it was NOT me. At preschool today a dear little mommy had a massive, irrational freakout that was somehow the most endearing adorable display of hormonal surges I’ve possibly ever seen.
She’s pregnant. I thought MAYBE 4 or 5 months, but no. As in, possibly in labor right now, tomorrow at the latest. WE small talked (yeah, i CAN do it if I have to but I try to avoid the preschool hallway so i never have to) and then she turned and small talked with another mommy on the other side. Next thing I know she’s bawling. And she’s talking, but i have NO idea what she’s saying.
Do yall cry like that? Where you cry and you THINK you’re totally making sense but instead it comes out like a lot of consanants and no vowels and hiccups in between? Yeah. It was like that. And the other mommy goes all big-eyed and wraps her up in a hug and says the sweetest things to her to calm her down. That mommy rocked.
I was so glad that happened AFTER she small talked with ME because I don’t think I could have done that whole comforting thing nearly as well as that other mommy who clearly must be her best friend.
So I THINK what she’s upset about is that the baby is about to be born and might be really little since she’s so tiny this bundle could be premature… and so of course she’s upset…?
SideNote: Where’s this sweet mommy’s giant tummy the rest of us have to have at that stage? Not that I’m complaining. Oh fine. I am SOO complaining. What is it with the hugeness of pregnancy? I mean, some people – not even just tall women – can have perfectly normal healthy babies and NOT turn into a Suburban in the last trimester. WHY CAN’T WE ALL? Really. And I know what you’re thinking, and no. I’m done having babies. Done done done done. But when you have lots of kids, and there are large chunks of your life filled by the months where you were the size of a flesh toned Suburban, it sticks with you a bit. (and isn’t that when people start putting a well meaning hand on your stomach and telling you straight out LIES, like ‘you’re glowing…?’ Gah! That’s just a nice way of NOT saying ‘you look just like my SUV…’) The kids are all alive and healthy and I’m grateful that it all went according to plan — but if all that coulda happened without QUITE the same girth, then that woulda really been nice. That’s all I’m saying.
So. Then I realize that she is NOT concerned about the baby’s size or health, it’s the sweet baby’s birthdate she’s upset about. I collect Seth-4yr, kiss his little head, and cannot slip by the Freakout in Progress because they’re blocking the door. I offer brightfaced, totally lame reassurances that everything is going to be great and she’ll do just fine and really I have no real idea why she’s so upset, except that she’s within 48 hrs of giving birth and duuuude. That is hormonal roller coaster style Reason Enough.
She smiles, and is all streaky faced (but hello? in a pretty way. Who can even do that?! Oh yeah. The same kind of woman who can be about to pop and still barely be in maternity wear. OF! COURSE!) and says, “Ooooh, I just” [crying noises, hiccups, I'm totally guessing at what she's saying] “I just didn’t want a guhl baby!”
And I’m thinking… whoah. She’s about to have a girl. She wanted a boy. She’s ABOUT to have a girl, like maybe in a second in the hallway here and she really wanted a BOY. Well great. What do you say to THAT?! I mean, usually if that’s the case you get over it before the 9 months are up and you’re totally thrilled with the one you’re getting… right?
Stalling, I seek clarification. ”You didn’t want a… guhl baby?” I say it exactly like she said it and realize it’s the same odd pronunciation that Caden-5yr uses for ‘girl.’ Except it really doesn’t sound like ‘girl.’ Sweet Freaking Out Mommy shakes her head no and says, “I didn’t want a ghoul baby!”
Well. Then. That was not what I was expecting to hear at all. And who does want a ghoul baby… really? (Mommy and Daddy ghouls. Duh. Okay.) She REALLY didn’t want her baby to be born on October 31. It was a big deal, and I can get that. The three of us talked about the advantages of fall birthdays and I brightly said something about bobbing for apples. Oh yes. I really did. I do comfort SO well.
Not that it matters, but does anyone LIKE bobbing for apples? Water gets up your nose. Water that other people’s wide open spitty mouths has been in – gets up your nose. If you have TMJ issues, that’s just recreational jaw pain games with extra spit. Festive!
I wonder if this baby – who may or may not have an Oct. 31 birthday and who may or may not be a girl (never found out) – will ever have birthday parties with apple bobbing activities partly because of an inane comment made to the sweetest pregnant mommy ever. I hope not.
But if it is a girl she should be entirely thrilled to learn one day that she has probably inherited the ability to cry her head off and still look gorgeous and be very pregnant and still look to be in the ‘just found out’ phase.