Oscar the Fig

Introducing:

Oscar Finis Broughton

Born at 7:21 am on Friday the 13th after 25 minutes at the hospital.

8lbs 9oz
21.25 inches long
Finis rhymes with Linus.

friday (the 13th) cute shot*

*slightly delayed

t + 9 days

Spicy enchiladas, pineapple, several long walks, two fetal monitoring sessions, and one round of acupuncture later, I am still pregnant.

I hope Figgy isn't trying to beat the record I set in utero.

t-0 days

Today is my official due date. (Do I say Figgy's official due date? Either way, one of us is now on the verge of being late for something.)

Since Lucy was urged out at 39 weeks, 2 days, every day since last Saturday I have been more pregnant than I ever had been before. The one good thing about being sick with a cold for three weeks during your last month of pregnancy is that you don't really have a chance to get tired of being pregnant, panicked as you are that the baby might decide to make an early appearance before your body has had the good sense to get better.

But now, having made it to 40 weeks, I feel pretty good. It's interesting to think that I might reach a point where I'm actively encouraging the little guy out; so far I haven't felt that ready for a baby ever in my life.

Yesterday was Lucy's last day of daycare. We said goodbye to her lovely Aunties and the house and yard where she's been spending three days a week for just under two years. On the whole, Shaggy and I were feeling a lot more sentimental than Lucy was--as soon as she saw us coming up the walk she said, "Let's go!" Instead, we cleaned out her cubby and distributed the paintings she had made for each auntie, designating as she went.

The aunties gave her a little photo book and a jar filled with bells and wrote sweet notes about missing her imagination and singing and sunbutter smiles.

I brought my camera with me, thinking I might take some farewell pictures, but we were out the door too quickly for that. So Shaggy captured us doing a little fairy dance instead.

friday cute shot

a pig and a goose walk into a bar

I was reading Charlotte's Web to Lucy last night and we finally got to the part where Charlotte is about to introduce herself, and Wilbur is waiting all night, full of excitement, having a hard time falling asleep.

At one point there is a conversation between Wilbur and the goose, who is currently sitting on eight of her own eggs, about why they are both awake in the middle of the night, and if you smoosh them together it reminded me of being 8 months pregnant:

"Why aren't you asleep, Wilbur?"
"Too many things on my mind," said Wilbur.
"Well," said the goose, "that's not my trouble. I have nothing at all on my mind, but I've too may things under my behind."

If only one of them was also talking about waking up all the time to pee, we'd be spot on.

t-7 weeks

Dear Figgy,

Last week you churned like a bingo basket, this week you move in sudden squirming jabs like a slippery trout.

What are you practicing in there?

Love,

Your Mama

king of the wild frontier

I just saw the trailer for the new Wes Anderson movie and realized that I am going to have to buy my son a coonskin cap.

!!!

heard on the street

"How is the pregnancy going?  How do you feel?

          Overweight? Tired?

                            Heavy-looking?"

                        -My dad, stepping into a conversational snakepit while making 
                         a genuine attempt to engage with me about this pregnancy

i have reached the next stage of pregnancy

The one where old homeless men can tell you are pregnant even though you are wearing a large winter coat.

giving thanks

Tonight we will be on a plane, flying back to Portland after spending the last ten days with family in Virginia.

Things to be thankful for:

• The sun! (The first morning we woke up in Virginia the first words out of Lucy's mouth were "Lets go outside and read books in the sun!")
• Finally feeling Figgy moving around in there with some regularity.
• Turkeys, injected with marinade and beer butter and covered with rubs, deep fried and smoked.
• Grandparents who take Lucy for a 2-night adventure while we sneak in a getaway to the mountains.
• Parents who faithfully flip my home-cured bacon daily while we're out of the state.
• Cousins.
• Fresh coffee, made to order, whenever the mood strikes.
• Giant piles of leaves and the people who rake them. 
• Dogs that like to snuggle. 
• Backyard tree swings.
• Backyards.
• Brocoletti cooked with olive oil and lots of garlic.
• Brand new, hard-won box springs.
• A walk through the woods that ends by the river, and nice arms to rest in when you get tired. ("That is the tallest tree ever, that I ever saw!")
• Kisses that don't have to be wiped off.

friday cute shot

we call it figgy

Sometimes.

Three weeks ago it was the size of a fig, and little Figgy Broughton just sounded too nice to let go of. Although now I'm realizing that it is somewhat reminiscent of Ol' Wiggly, but not too much, right? Round one of nicknames two months ago involved one that Lucy thought of, Foxy Riderman, but that seemed somehow too gender specific in both directions, and maybe a little too sexy for a fetus.

Lately she has suggested Peta and Lief, which seem way more sophisticated than the naming suggestions I was expecting from a 2-year old.  Also, too official.

So Figgy for now, maybe.

In any case, we're back in line for another adventure.