Erma Bombeck was right ...

When I was pregnant with Jonathan, my second, I had a planned c-section on Tuesday. We went to the hospital, got all hooked up and they said "You're in labor". Well, cool. I'm here, let's have a baby. Wellllll, what they didn't say was - you in pushing labor and have a kid crowning down there. Ready to see the world. So we got in, sliced open the momma and heard "Oh".

Ok- when you're pregnant, laying on a table, waiting for "now you're going to feel some pulling here in a sec", you don't know what to think, when all you hear is "Oh".

And when the next few things you hear or sortof Indian-Chinese-English yelling, it tends to put one on edge.

Turns out, our son (who turned from our second perfect little girl to a boy somehow in the last two weeks of the pregnancy) had decided he was coming out NOW ... and wasn't waiting. Soooo, long story short- 2 OB/GYN's - one a pushin' and one a pullin'- delivered him through the pre-ordained c-section.

Now, I love my son. Don't get me wrong. But, Kati was a preemie. A c-section preemie. All pink and purty and perfect. He. Was. Not. To be kind, the kids will take their baby pics and compare, only if they agree that no newborn pics are allowed in the drawings :)



Jonathan sat at 4 months, crawled at 5 - walked at 7 and talked at 11. And had a sister only 14 months older. (So those of you with two that close together -- forget the "once the baby turns one, its all better" thing. Ha! We anticipated his first birthday, expecting everything to just be perfect in the house. Ha!) ... but I digress.

While we were in the car, we only knew Jonathan was asleep because it was quiet. Even when coloring, playing with toys - he talked. It was naptime when we heard "Momma, i wan mo juice pleeeeeeeee" ... and then nothing. Silence. And little bumsch was out, head first into his chest.



For the first few years, my mom tried to soothe me with things like "oh, all those incessant, continual questions he asks is because he's curious honey" and "you'll appreciate all of this when he gets older honey" and "I can't imagine where he gets this honey" and ... well, you get the picture.

Then, we mom went on a road trip with us. She and I took the kids, in our minivan, down the Oregon coast to Southern California.

Day Two. About 7am. Maybe earlier. Mom is driving first shift.

Kati is coloring and Jonathan is up, bright-eyed, bushy tailed and 5. We're in the Giant Sequoias National Park. And Jonathan is being "curious" with grandma.

"Why are the trees so tall grandma"

"Why does the glitter hang on the trees grandma (we were in the early morning mist)

"How come we can't stop and climb the trees grandma"

Grandmaa ....

Grandmaaa .....

Grandmaaaaaa ....

And my mom, pulls over the car and says "Jonathan. If I hear ONE. MORE. QUESTION ..."

And I smile.

S.M.I.L.E.

I smile, I turn and blink my purty lil' eyelashes and say, oh so sicky sweet "But momma ... he's just being curious! He'll be sooooo smart when he grows up, You just don't appreciate how s.m.a.r.t. he is at this age".

Frankly, I was lucky I didn't get left to enjoy the early morning mist and the great, big, beautiful trees at a more intimate level.



Seven years later, we still have to tell him to give it a rest, cause he moves, talks, sings, runs, rolls, wrestles, hugs, squeezes - and then gets up for breakfast.



And I wouldn't change him, or take the sleep, for all the trees in great, big beautiful world.

So -- for those us you with young'uns that keep you moving. It's tiring, it's exhausting -- and soon, you will only enjoy that energy in emails, phone calls and holiday visits.




Giving birth is little more than a set of muscular contractions granting passage of a child. Then the mother is born.


-Erma Bombeck