Allergies, Boy Epiphany, and an Unwanted Nickname

March 5, 2010

I feel like Carey has been a little bit whinier lately. And a little more defensive then usual. Like the kind of snappishness you get when your blood sugar is low and dinner is late and everything your partner says sets you off? Like that. But some times even AFTER dinner. She's definitely a lot sleepier. Maybe it's because Spring came early. Carey's allergies are pretty bad. She decided a while ago that all medications are bad for the baby. So she won't even think about Claritin. Even after we double checked with the doctor (Carey asked at least three different times if it was okay and all three times it was okayed) she is still hesitant to take anything. So she's had these sneezing, drippy nose and coughing fits. And frankly, they have begun to irritate me. She chooses really inopportune times to have these fits, ya know? It's so annoying! Like the other night she fell asleep on the couch. I had to wake her up to bring her to bed. After I shut down the house and met her upstairs, oh time for an allergy attack. She was peacefully sleeping just seconds ago! I'm already under the covers when she decides to have this ridiculously long and involved asthma freak out. She was all gagging and choking and coughing up death. And it went on and on and on and on and on. Coughing and gagging and choking and spitting up into the toilet. On and on. She asked me for a tissue after it was winding down. I'm like, your standing right by the toilet paper! Why should I have to get out of bed to fetch facial tissue when her hand is less than eight inches away from the TP. As I said before, I was already under the covers. It's eleven o'clock at night. I'm tired! Sheesh. I guess it was so bad that the next day her abdominal muscles were sore. Of course she was worried this negatively affected Mr. Baby. She was also worried at the rock show we went to last night. The last song of Erik Blood's set had this pounding drum machine beat heavy on the kick drum. She hid behind me placing her belly right up against my lower back to protect Mr. Baby from the rhythmic onslaught. I think it was a good idea.

My central creative focus right now is on recording The Glasses next album. I really only have until June/July before I have to be done. I imagine the baby will be all-consuming of my energies. The mix of baby and music will be an interesting one. As it is, I'm being kicked out of the upstairs room in April. I'll have to take all my gear to the guest room. But I'm trying not to think about that right now. Presently I'm in the best stage of making a new album - the writing/recording of demos.

So I'm still adjusting to our baby being a boy. I mean I'm totally over it and fine that it's a boy. What helped was someone gave me a new perspective. I don't remember who it was, but when this person found out it's a boy, they said, "Oh. So you'll have a little Will running around, huh?" I never thought about it that way. This epiphany is making a huge difference in how I feel about Judah. Because, hey! If there's one person I really like, it's me! I mean, I knew all along that I'd be dressing him up like me. But then I took it further. Of how I want to be. Do they have baby ascots? What about infant-sized smoking jackets? I could mark his upper lip to give him a pencil mustache. Baby John Waters! Or really, the best would be like a Frenchman. With the red and white striped long-sleeve sailor shirt and the beret. Will's better dressed miniature-sized person, Judah. Carey has no sense of humor about this at all. She doesn't want me "dressing up" the baby. I think it would be cool. Regardless of her complaints, he will have a Frenchman outfit. I can guarantee you that! He can wear it when he plays with his unicorn.

I tried to express to Carey how much I have been enjoying her pregnant body. I kind of stumbled on my words trying to be careful to not make her feel self-conscious. Instead, with accusation in her voice she proclaimed, "That's because you like big bottom girls." Just because of the tone she used I started to get defensive and then quickly remembered that it's absolutely true. Why would anyone think this is a bad thing?

Getting Carey riled up these days is suuuper easy. All I have to do is lean over to her protruding belly and say, "How's our little Ju?" She HATES that. Sounds too much like I'm saying "jew". So what? It's not a curse word. It'd be like if I said, "How's our little Russian?" And Ju is definitely short for Judah. She wants it to be Jude, which I'm not too keen on. I really do think that he will eventually go by the nickname Ju. It just sounds cool. But I'll probably call him Judah. I know two syllables is a lot to ask of someone, but I think I can manage.