Archive for January, 2010

first funeral

January 27, 2010

I told myself that I would take a silhouette photo of myself each month during my next (and last) pregnancy. However, I was so sick in my first trimester and didn’t really show at all until I was about 5.5 months pregnant that I could find the energy nor the reason to do it. Now, I am seven months pregnant and just entered my last trimester and I feel like a whale. I’m just plain lazy now. I have no motivation.

Like clockwork, the heartburn, middle-of-the-night and mother-of-all leg cramps, getting up to go pee every couple of hours (especially in the middle of the night), rolling out of bed, inability to aptly reach down and pull my dress socks up…well, you get the picture…symptoms are full force. I’m sure it’s my age. After all, it has been five years since I was last pregnant and I was a lot more out of shape this time around than when I was pregnant with Roan.

I can’t help but worry how this little girl is going to be. My pregnancy with Roan was so idyllic; in the sense that I never really had much of the symptoms mentioned above. I could feel him active inside of me and sure, it wasn’t always 100% comfortable, but I loved being pregnant! I had glowing and perfect skin. My allergies were non-existent. My hair was shiny and thick. People were so nice to me!

Anyways, Roan was such a mild child. He was just the best little baby any mother could be blessed with. He hardly ever cried. In fact, Choua used to taunt him to make sure that he knew how to cry and so that we could recognize his cry. Almost from the beginning, he slept 5-6 hours straight at night and after nursing him, he would fall right back asleep. He even took three naps well after his first year.  He would watch intently as older children played, just sitting on my lap. He was never picky and so anyone could hold and watch him. There was no separation anxiety, whatsoever. So much so that I actually worried that maybe he didn’t know we were his parents.

We were often afraid to have another one since we would joke that “God gave us a ‘good one’ because he knew our marriage would not survive a needy one”. I am hoping it is just my age, but if her time “en utero” is any indication of how she’ll be on the outside, I worry.

On the school front, Roan is thriving and enjoying school. Work—they actually call it work at his school—that he enjoys doing daily include: binomial cube, sandpaper letters, polishing, banana, rods and counting beads.  He also enjoys the reading corner and has been bringing home a lot of art that he is drawing. His favorite subjects to draw include: his baby sister and him, planet Earth, and Optimus Prime in both the truck and robot forms.

He also has been telling me that he has several girlfriends in his class. I am not sure that he just labels them as that because they are girls and he is the only boy in his class from 3:30p until the school closes at 5:30p or if he really understands the concept. He will often refer to the boys as his boy friends too.

However, the other day, I gave him a Dove chocolate as I was driving him to school. Normally, he would have eaten it up in a matter of seconds. However, I noticed that he still had it in his hand when we were walking up to the school. I told him he couldn’t have it at school and he said he wouldn’t. He was saving it for Laila. He must really love her because he doesn’t even save chocolate for me!

I have another story about Laila, but that will have to wait for another time since this post is getting quite long.

The last thing I want to talk about this time refers to the title of the post. A few weeks ago, Roan was asking a lot about getting fish as pets. He’s not always the most responsible four year old so I didn’t want to buy any, but his uncles have a tank full of baby Betas. After one day with his uncles over winter break he asked so nicely to take some home. I reluctantly agreed only after telling him that he had to feed them. At first, he even kept up his end of the deal, asking every day to feed the fish. However, a couple of days later, we noticed the water was getting really nasty and one little one was already floating at the top of the container.

Choua decided to change the water. Shortly after he did, all of the fish died. By then, of course, the novelty of having pets had worn off on Roan.  He wasn’t feeding them anymore. Roan didn’t notice, so I took it as an opportunity to teach him a life lesson or so. We had a little funeral for the fish and talked about responsibility and consequences. Oddly enough, he hasn’t asked for more fish. I guess it really was just too much for him and hopefully he realized it.

Included are a few photos from the funeral. He was trying very hard to look very sad. As we flushed the fish down the toilet, he hugged me and sadly said, “Mama…I am so sad.”