Kermit knows his own name but refuses to say it around us. He also knows my aunts name (she does our daycare), but refuses to say that as well. Usually she asks, "what's my name?" and he says MOM. They go back and forth. The other day he finally said it, a bunch of times so I knew it wasn't a fluke. Yesterday, she asked what her name was and he said MOM. So she said, where's Kermit and he pointed to himself. She said "no, your name is Joe." For the rest of the day, he would point at himself and say "Joe". I guess that reverse psychology doesn't work on toddlers.
I just found out that one of my friends is having another baby, and is due in August. Pretty exciting. We have been trying ourselves to have another one and so far nothing. I don't get too worked up about it and for a long time, I wasn't ready to have another one. We found out I was pregnant a week before Kermit's first birthday last year and I was scared to death. How will I handle 2 kids in diapers, 2 in car seats, 2 to pack up in the morning, 2 to haul in to daycare, 2 to feed, 2 to clothe, 2 to spend time with, 2 to PAY FOR? I wasn't sure I could handle it, at least when he was so small. He was still so small, he would be pushed out of the baby stage so soon. It's not fair to him -- he deserves to be a baby as long as he wants to. But then 3 weeks later on my brother's birthday, we had found out that I miscarried. No more babies to be born, at least not yet. I still am harboring RAGE towards the nurse who told me the news. She couldn't have been any more non-chalant about it. Like it was no big deal that we just lost a baby. It was like she was telling me I should get a flu shot. There was NO sympathy, no, if there's anything we can do, or any questions we can answer, no, if you want to talk. Why didn't she put my doctor on the phone? I could have handled the news better from her. There was no, what to expect in the next week and what will happen and the pain you will get -- OH THE PAIN I had. If I ever have to talk to her again, it will be too soon. I am still kicking my self for not writing a strongly worded letter to the hospital about her behavior (it would have had too many words like whore, bitch, nasty-ass cunt, I thought I shouldn't put that down on paper with my name signed at the bottom), or even talking to my doctor about it. But I just wanted to forget every mean tone in her voice and the words she chose to use -- FETAL DEMISE. She couldn't think of something better to say than that. As soon as I got off the phone, I googled the words, thinking it was something a little more technical and there was a reason associated with the term. A reason I had just lost a baby. But what it really means is miscarriage. Nothing more, nothing less.
And so, today as I am happy for my friend as they have been trying for a while and went through something similar just lately, I also am thinking about trying some more to have a baby I am sure I want now.