MaternalLee

Pregnancy does hilarious things to a gal. She gets huge and grouchy; hates things she once loved and is compelled to consume revolting foods like V8 vegetable juice and Spaghetti-os. I experienced the rainbow of conditions and symptoms associated with pregnancy this time around, but never realized that relating with my neighbor, Lee would fall into one of those categories.

Things slow down when a woman becomes pregnant, and life's demands are reassessed. For me, all forms of exercise came to a halt, my otherwise healthy diet took a back seat to whatever garbage I could eat without puking, and my obsession with a clean kitchen became more of a theory. Complications early in the pregnancy prevented me from doing anything involving cardiovascular force. The most exertion I expelled was with my 3 year old; lifting him and kicking the soccer ball around, kicking him and lifting the soccer ball.. That type of thing. Around month 5 I began having dreams about sprinting through a grassy meadow, legs extended with the wind blowing my hair and clothes. As I remembered myself my footing became sludgy, and my sprint soon became more like armless swimming. I awoke feeling sad and heavy, looking forward to birth in a whole new way. It occurred to me that my neighbor, Lee and I had more in common physically than we ever had before.


Lee's physique is a geometric and physical conundrum. The angles created by his belly and his hip/upper thigh area are perplexing. The tight drum that is his stomach has the same qualities as a pregnant belly. Pale, silvery stretch marks around the flattened navel, protuberance at the fundus beyond that which seems possible. The harsh meeting of the lowest part of the belly to the groin... Pants which refuse to suspend themselves at an appropriate level revealing a plumber's crack/gangsta sag in tandem. Shirts that don't quite button over the midsection and won't cover the bottom 3 inches of the stomach. All of this occurred to me one afternoon as we were both engaged in the same activity: sitting in the yard doing nothing.

Months 6-9 of my pregnancy were spent in discomfort. My usual activities of gardening, biking, running, hiking and swimming were replaced with sitting, reclining, waddling, and lifting 3 lb dumbells. I was trapped in my body and the least amount of activity made my uterus contract, my round ligaments ache and my sciatic nerves zap themselves into a frenzy, sending lightning pains through my lower back into my knees. I longed to have my body back and promised to work hard at being healthy and fit as soon as the baby came. I noticed that Lee complained about his back and knees all the time. He has a bike that he rides to the store and the library that is electric, but he still has to pedal it up steep hills. Amazing. How could someone with the weight distribution of a reverse weeble-wobble manage to position them self on a bike AND pedal it uphill? I couldn't even look at my bike when I was pregnant. Just seeing the seat made my pelvis ache. I decided to offer Lee a ride whenever I went out.


The next day Fox and I were leaving the house on our way to the library, and Lee was milling around his yard with a backpack. I asked him if he wanted to come to the library with us and he said yes, as long as I would take him by the tobacco outlet and the grocery store. We left the house and were driving down Island Home Avenue when Lee yelled "HEY SLOW DOWN UP HERE!"

I slammed on the breaks imagining I had either hit an animal or hauled ass past a cop, but Lee continued, "Jus up here one er two more houses... THARE! That house right thare!"

He pointed toward a tiny house with a covered porch and a steep driveway.

"Pull up in thare" He demanded.

I slowly eased the truck into the driveway and wondered what we were doing there when Lee explained; "Back in the 70s I put a new toilet in 'at house. I knew th'man who owned it an he give me a lawnmower t'fix at bathroom up"

As I sat there looking at the house, I realized that Lee was relishing the moment. As strange of a point of interest as it was, I completely understood Lee's motivation. He was including me in his life history with an explanation. He continued the story of the man, and how he knew him through his grandmother who lived in Vestal. The man had a few houses in the area that he rented out, and his grandmother lived in one of his properties. He wanted to drive to Vestal to show me his grandmother's old place, but we didn't have time.

Lee told me that one time, back in the 70s, his friend had a baby that refused to nurse and went 17 days without eating. He ordered her to take that baby "up 'ere an see my grandmother", so they went seeking advice about the starving infant. Within a few minutes of their arrival, Lee's grandmother discovered that the baby's tongue was malformed preventing the child's ability to suck. She gave the baby some sort of sustenance and went with it's mother to the hospital. Lee then told me the name of the baby, and I realized that he was still in communication with the child and his mother. The baby's name is Christian, and he is now 12 or 13 years old. Lee invites him and his mother over to eat supper with him a couple times a week and feels responsible for the kid in some way. He even built the kid a bike. As dangerous as that bike is, how wonderfully touching is it that Lee felt like giving it to this kid. He said that he had to "look after 'em" since his granny saved his life.

Feeling teary and sentimental, I told Lee that he was a great friend to Christian and his mother, and to Jason, Fox and I. He looked at me like I had just punched myself in the face and had a bloody nose, then thanked me for the ride and hopped out of the car.

4/10/2008 Killer Shower

The other weekend Jason, Fox and I went to a baby shower in Monroe, North Carolina, just outside of Charlotte. The place belonged to his college friend Jerome's family, and he and his brother had remodeled the family barns into their houses. Living in the barn: It is the cool thing to do. But really, Jerome's barn is palatial compared to 40 Houser Road; huge machines were able to park inside of his barn and the post and beam truss construction towered fifteen feet above the second story level.
Anyway,
The baby shower was an afternoon affair, and the weather forecast affirmed an outdoor dining area, so no one brought jackets and everyone was a little bit pissed at themselves for buying the "70 degrees and sunshine in March" crap. Meaning: it was COLD, and WINDY. Plus it was spitting rain and the sun never broke through the overcast ceiling. The hay ride was cancelled.
The beginning of the party consisted of my chasing Fox around the pond in an attempt to deter the anxiety I inevitably experience in situations like that, and thankfully when I snuck back into the party Gravy Donger and Jenny were there.
When we first arrived at Jerome's house I had noticed that the entire ground floor was a bar. Not like "bar theme", but an actual bar you would walk into from a small town city street. The only thing that separated Jerome's bar from an actual bar were the politically incorrect wall hangings and effects peppered among the equipment. Felt top poker table, CHECK. Big screen TV, CHECK. Domestic beer on tap, CHECK. Mirrored beer adverts, CHECK. Stars-n-bars, CHECK. I was really impressed and I longed to spend time perched atop a stool from the second I laid eyes on it.
The party continued with the usual rigamarole: presents being opened by the mom to be surrounded by a mass of ooohs and aahhs. I somehow avoided that ritual and experienced it only in passing through the living room into the restroom to change Fox or to rinse the residue from betwixt his little fingers.
Soon afterwards the nicer vehicles began leaving the premises and I found myself surrounded by people my age. Fox became tired and I cuddled him until he was all woozy, then placed him into his "Pack-n-Play" porta-bed, (no play, just pack). When he was fast asleep I returned to the party in the basement bar and found things as I had left them, but drunker.
Ever since Fox was born I have lost my drive to party into the early hours. As entertaining and exciting as it might seem, after a few minutes of projection into the future the idea becomes as tired as I am. It's one thing if Fox is sleeping at one of his grandparent's houses and will be proceeded in waking with bacon, eggs, and apple juice, but to be at a total stranger's house in a strange room is different. I could be convinced to stay up an extra hour if I knew that my or Jason's mom would be there to wake up with Fox, but I am too old to do both.
Back downstairs in the bar the noise level had risen, and people were taking shots of tequila on command. There was talk of going to a neighborhood speakeasy and eventually half of the crowd adjourned. One guy tried to convince me to go, and I had to really break it down for him. "I will not set my child down to bed in the house of a pregnant woman who I had never met until today, and then, shrouded in darkness, leave him to go to a bar to hang out with people who I do not know." I had to defend my case a few times before it was accepted, and finally the crowd diminished.
I retired at midnight, unable to maintain the game face needed to fuel the party atmosphere, but not before the "bar-goers" had returned. They were real drunk and talking crazy. I slipped away without notice.
The next morning I awoke to silence; Jason had taken Fox into the living room when he woke and acquainted him with his college pals. I joined them and finally had the opportunity to speak to Elizabeth, the mom-to-be. She seemed ready to have the baby and was clearly tired of her pregnant state; she had done tons of work preparing their house by setting up the cutest nursery I had ever seen. When Fox was due all we did was vacuum, and I told her that. She told me about the renovation of the barn and how dusty it was for the first few months. She said they had purchased a "Rainbow" vacuum cleaner after a particularly moving display of it's powers. She showed it to me and so many questions were answered about the machine. Essentially it is a two thousand dollar water bong for your carpet. Worth every penny when you see how dirty the water is afterwards!
After noon we began our trip back to Knoxville through the budding Saluda Gorge, and then through the Smokies. It was such a beautiful, early spring weekend for such a kick-ass baby shower.