meet peter!

today our little boyo came safely into the world!
the vital stats:
peter arant whealy
7 lbs. 7 oz.
20 inches long
lots of dark hair
good sleeper (knock on wood)
we are so happy and so in love!

a good thing to be alive

there wasn't much time for contemplation this week, or doing the inner work of preparation i always fantasize about. here we are again, on the brink of a milestone in our family, and we spent the time leading up to it watching cartoons and cuddling our croupy toddler, punctuated by crazy bursts of errand-running and nest-feathering. no time to think. it's like christmas. i always dream of having a long, meditative advent, then suddenly it's christmas morning and i'm tempted to feel like i already missed it. but no, this time i'm choosing to view the croup and the nesting as the meditation.

i read a bit of chesterton this week, and in his collection of essays brave new family is a terrific piece on birthdays. my favorite line (which you'll see on birthday cards from me from now on) is this:

"the first fact about the celebration of a birthday is that it is a way of affirming defiantly, even flamboyantly, that it is a good thing to be alive."

as tomorrow is our baby's actual birth-day, we affirm life's goodness defiantly and flamboyantly. the defiance and flamboyance is only necessary because each of us live right in the teeth of a dangerous and painful world. nothing like having a new baby to drive that reality home. has anyone read children of men by p.d. james? the premise is that suddenly all humans become sterile and no more babies are born. james, whose book is, i think, defiantly and flamboyantly prolife, teases out just how much societal normalcy depends on the assumption that people will have babies and generations of humans will go forward. without that hope, things totally fall apart.

ultimately, of course, our hope is situated on something much firmer than the hope of new babies. the prayer for the new year in the valley of vision always comes to mind at the outset of any change, and it seems fitting now:

i launch my bark on the unknown waters of this year,
with thee, o father, as my harbor,
thee, o son, at my helm,
thee, o holy spirit, filling my sails
[...]
give me thy grace to sanctify me
thy comforts to cheer
thy wisdom to teach
thy right hand to guide
thy council to instruct
thy law to judge
thy presence to stabilize.
may thy fear be my awe,
thy triumphs my joy.
amen.

let's get this party started!

croup

remember, in anne of green gables, when anne saves minnie mae barry from dying of "the croup"? i think she used mustard plaster and something called ipecac. i had neither of those remedies on hand, nor the experience to recognize croup. i was getting scared that ben had pneumonia, after several days of tight coughing and no improvement. thankfully, our good doctor loucks gave ben's chest one listen and diagnosed him with minnie mae's disease. he had a breathing treatment and a steroid shot and is perking right up, although he still looks pale and tired. visiting the pediatrician was decidedly less dramatic than anne's heroic midnight intervention, which was great because who needs more drama?

two days til baby comes...

the low-down grouchy toddler blues

the little fellow of the house woke during the night coughing and congested, and was the same this morning, with the addition of a low-grade temp and a despondent attitude.

we spent the morning wandering the house like a pair of moaning myrtles.

ben wanted to be held, but held only while i stood and swayed. he totally fell apart if i acted like i needed to sit down. and swaying a 32-pound toddler while 38 1/2 weeks pregnant is my greatest feat of strength to date. for the record.
then he wanted down.
then up again.
then he wanted his socks off because they were itchy.
then he wanted them on.
then off.
then he wanted to read a richard book (a richard scarry book to the rest of the world, abbreviated to just a "richard book" since ben dislikes all things scary).
then he was sick of the richard book.
then he was hungry.
then food disgusted him.

my oldest friend, joni, was going to come by and fold laundry with me, but instead i begged her to get us some children's motrin, since we were out. so she did, lovely friend that she is, and after giving him a dose, i tucked him in. i hope it's a long, restorative, healing nap. i might resort to whiskey in the bottle if this keeps up. for which one of us, i won't say.

bits

some things:
1. eight days until baby's born. can't wait! he's "dropped," which means that he's moving into position to be born. i can breathe better without him wedged up against my lungs. it's good.

2. just ate a cara cara orange from australia by way of whole foods. might go for another one. yum.

3. speaking of fruit, wouldn't it be fun to go to the orchard today?

4. andrew and i have a long history of diverging opinions on fiction. we do all right with non-fiction, but we NEVER want to read the same novels. until we found michael chabon. now we have one fiction writer in common. we. both. like. chabon. a miracle.

5. i asked ben what sport he wanted to play when he was bigger, and he said, "tennis." i asked him, "singles or doubles?" he said, "singles."

6. what's with all the spiders? i'm going to try a hedgeapple to discourage them. brooke's idea.

7. along with everybody, i'm reading and loving julia child's my life in france. she seriously overrates france (in my opinion, although she implies that if one doesn't love the french, one has only one's self to blame, so maybe it's just me), and her passionate commitment to french cooking is a shade exhausting (again, might be my problem). but the energy, the joie, the rich descriptions of a satisfied life are most nurturing to read. and all right, she does make me want to run off to provence for the weekend. who wouldn't?

more than a match for christy energy

andrew whealy tore it up this weekend. he got so much stuff done, it was a miracle. he cleaned. he organized. he put things away. he took care of ben. since having children, my love language has become acts of service (i hear that happens to a lot of women), so i'm feeling a serious, juicy crush on him. here's how much i love him: i'm keeping him company while he watches espn. told you.

dream girl

early morning insomnia strikes again.

this time i woke up from a dream both funny and miserable, in which andrew told me he was in love with a classmate from law school and was leaving to meet her in florence (italy, not north omaha). the funny part is, his flame's name was christy energy. i woke up with a laugh because of that hilarious last name and it's obvious reference to what is currently my biggest short-coming. then, because it was 4:50 a.m. and i was still mostly asleep, i spent a few panicked minutes trying to remember if he'd ever mentioned anyone called christy energy while in law school. he hadn't. but she sure sounds like a go-getter, huh?

i have a penchant for literal dreams, but this one takes the cake. if i'm mad at someone, i dream about yelling at them. if i miss someone, i dream about talking to them. and if i'm feeling insecure about being exhausted and slow all the time, i dream that i'm being left for christy energy. with dreams like this, who needs freud?

i think i'm going to adopt christy energy as my alter-ego and invoke her whenever i feel particularly ironic about being an exhausted mama. i bet she carries a brief case.

postcard

coming in the house after church,
the sun was hot.
the driveway was covered with leaves that smelled like old chlorophyll.
there was a spider web.
and bees were everywhere.

tea and lists

it's 5:30 am. tea's boiling. becky left a packet of pregnancy tea behind a few weeks ago and i'm drinking it now. thanks, b. i owe you a cup of tea.

i woke up an hour ago, making lists. grocery lists. lists of baby-items-buried-in-ben's-closet that need excavation. lists of things i still need. lists of questions for my doc. lists of reasons why i need to hold the new baby right away after he's born, nurses and their apgar scores be damned.

having ben was a revolution. a revelation. ben the revelator. (sorry, gillian. it's early.) i feel a lot of those emotions closing in again this morning. on the brink of another mad, passionate, primal, terrifying love. and it's pouring out in the form of lists? weird.

human thing

on monday, september 28, deo volente, i'm having a baby!
after ben's dramatic entrance into the world, i'm no longer a candidate to deliver "naturally," so it's another c-section for me. it's a little hard to swallow, since i fancied myself more the earth-mother-type than the elective-c-section-type, but when do we actually get to be what we fancy ourselves, anyway? factors beyond my control made the decision for me, and i've spent this pregnancy getting comfy with the idea of another c-section.

among the benefits, which i've often repeated to myself, are the ability to schedule the birth. that means i can go to the hospital with washed hair, painted toe nails and clean sheets on the beds. so that's good. the risky, scary bits i discuss with jesus.

i have to say, this child likes the be good tanyas. i'm listening to them as i write this and he's dancing along enthusiastically. can't wait to meet him, can't wait to introduce him to you.