February 21 11

Well, this weekend started with a pregnancy test. A negative one.

By Friday, when I was officially 6 days late, I sent my husband to Rexall to both refill my prescription for Tricyclen Lo and to buy a two-pack of pregnancy tests. Yes, the pharmacist realized the irony of the situation (“Well, sir, good luck with whatever results you get here…”) and so did we.

It’s funny, this.

Of late, I had been a little surprised by Isabella’s reluctance to start reading. Both Emily and Josh were reading early – at 4 – and reading like gangbusters. The devoured books and started climbing the Fountas & Pinell reading level ladder with mad speed. Isabella, my baby, showed little signs of even wanting to read. She was happy to have her books read to her, over and over and over and over. And I suppose that since she’s my baby, I happily obliged. The cuddliest of my children, there’s little I enjoy more than crawling into bed with her for a little Fancy Nancy and Jillian Jiggs. She would bring word lists home of sight words, and they just weren’t clicking. And then, sometime around November, not only did they start clicking, but she was plowing through those lists. The first list took her two months to memorize, but then in November, she went through six or seven new lists. By January, she was reading BOOKS. Cover to cover, with little-to-no help. All she wants to do is read now. All day long. She brings me anything that has words on it. Newspapers, magazines, phone bills. She just wants to devour every single word. It took her a while to get there, but once she did. HOO BOY. She can’t be stopped.

You guys. My baby is reading.

My baby no longer needs ME to read to HER.

It’s the end of an era. I have said all along that five is this magic age where our lives suddenly become easier. When we move out of the super tiring parenting stage into a place where we can do things with the kids. We can play games that don’t involve any chutes or any ladders. We can watch movies that made us laugh and don’t make use bleed from our eyeballs. We can – GASP! – travel.

Baby days are over.

And then, on Friday, minutes before I sat in my bathroom and peed on a stick (Okay, fine, I peed on them both) all I could think about was how my life was going to change. Another pregnancy. No more caffeine or sushi or xanax or prevacid or A WAISTLINE. Another round of sore boobs, sleepless nights. DIAPERS. Where was I going to put this baby? When we moved we got rid of everything. Clothing, seven strollers (YES. Seven.), my high chair, my bouncy chairs, my bottles, my sippy cups. I even tossed that little blue bath seat that hasn’t been used since 2005. I thought about how I would be getting drinks for another 6 years; how I’d be playing chutes and ladders and watching Dora the Explorer and

READING TO ANOTHER BABY.

And then I thought

Another baby!

That means cuddles and snuggles and that delicious-smelling newborn stage. First smiles and first rolls and first crawls and first words and first walks. A possible brother for Josh. A chance for Isabella to be a big sister. BABY FEET. READING TO ANOTHER BABY.

Yes. Whatever the outcome. The Martells were going to be okay.

-
  1. Funny. I took a test this weekend as well.
    We would NOT be okay with another bebe.
    Sean had a vasectomy while I was pregnant with Eva so we would never be surprised by another bonus baby.
    And with our history of conception and pregnancy, we’ll be that .04% who gets pregnant after a vasectomy.
    Test was negative. Thank God. Now I just need to convince Sean that it’s a smart idea to get himself “tested” every year to make sure he continues to shoot blanks.
    We have one more year til that “magic year” you write about and I am VERY MUCH looking forward to getting there.
    And staying there.
    And not going back to baby days.

    YAY to Bella for being a reader! What a huge milestone!

    [Reply]

    Comment by Christine on February 21, 2011
  2. Yay for reading! And yes, 5 is a magic age. My boys packed their own luggage to stay at their Grandma’s the other day. It was awesome. But it doesn’t stop me from thinking about one more wee one…

    [Reply]

    Comment by pgoodness on February 21, 2011
  3. sigh.

    [Reply]

    Comment by Meghan on February 21, 2011
  4. Awwwww.

    [Reply]

    Comment by Avitable on February 21, 2011
  5. I am a little sad. Since if you did have another baby, I could totally move and be your nanny!

    [Reply]

    Comment by Kristabella on February 21, 2011
  6. I gotta say, i was a little excited for a minute there.

    When we moved from BC to Saskatchewan 2.5 years ago, we got rid of ALL our baby stuff, save for the chair-top high chair Liliana was using. She was only 14 months old when we moved, yet we even got rid of her crib. And … now we’re starting over from scratch again. (Which I don’t mind in the least.)

    Yay for your baby reading!!!

    [Reply]

    Comment by Mrs. Wilson on February 21, 2011
  7. aww .. I love babies!!

    And yeah for Bella reading .. how cool is that!!

    [Reply]

    Comment by Sarah on February 21, 2011
  8. Sometimes I think an “accident” would be kind of nice, but then I think about how both my kids can finally buckle themselves in their own damn carseats and go back to being the very happy mom of an almost five and seven year old.

    [Reply]

    Comment by Rima on February 22, 2011
  9. YES! The buckling themselves factor. Yes.

    [Reply]

    Comment by ali on February 22, 2011
  10. I had a dream last night that we had a “surprise” baby and oddly…I was really happy about it.

    I’m much happier with the post-baby stage we’re in, though.

    [Reply]

    Comment by Angella on February 22, 2011
  11. Holy cow, I could hardly breathe reading that. And the urge to go pee on something just to make sure I wasn’t pregant was pretty strong too. I think I have PTBD. You know, Post Traumatic Baby Disoder.

    [Reply]

    Comment by anne nahm on February 22, 2011
  12. And now I feel like an a-hole after leaving the comment I did on your latest post. Sorry, friend.

    Thankfully you’re ridiculously awesome and sweet and didn’t punch me in the ovaries for being lame. (I’m SO behind on my blog reading. For which I blame The Zombie Grant Deadlines. Die Zombie Grant Deadlines, Diiiiie!)

    [Reply]

    Comment by Kerri Anne on February 24, 2011
-

Allowed tags: <a href="" title=""> <abbr title=""> <acronym title=""> <b> <blockquote cite=""> <cite> <code> <del datetime=""> <em> <i> <q cite=""> <strike> <strong>

css.php