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The Bookclub Bitches maintain their commitment to bring you a hot, fresh podcast every month. Hopefully, thus ends the sober podcasts. My apologies for how tired and pregnant I sound.

i’ve been going back and forth in my mind as to what really to call this book. i wouldn’t say it’s a graphic novel, since, in my mind, graphic novels have more of a mythology behind them. also, the artwork in graphic novels helps to tell the story, part of why we read graphic novels is too see the art. the pictures and they story go hand in hand.

Persepolis on the other hand has been marketed and called a “Comic Strip Memoir” since it deals with the real life of the author - who simply chose to tell her tale in comic strip format. the art work is good, since Satrapi herself is a graphic artist. but in my mind, graphic novels are more 3-D and Persepolis doesn’t want to be more than what it is….a memoir told in comic strip format.

and while The Bitches categorized this as a graphic novel, i think that’s wrong. a novel is fictional prose, while a memoir is a personal account. the pictures should have nothing to do with it. so i’ve convinced myself - comic strip memoir.

now a word on that memoir - while reading Persepolis i became grossly aware of how ignorant i am of middle eastern culture. Satrapi tells her tale of growing up in revolutionary Iran, and while i remember hostages and being afraid of the Ayatollah, i was a kid at the time, and foreign affairs didn’t really concern me.

but to read how a young girl had to completely change her ways, because of a new regime in the country, to do things, silly things, just because you were told. well that sparked in me a certain anarchist kinship.

i felt some what lazy reading how Satrapi spent her teen years. while i was guzzling mountian dew and eating cheetos and pop-tarts, she was reading philosophy. something i was only forced to do in college. with our western age of cable TV, no one my age was interested in what the government was doing. since it didn’t affect our daily lives, what did we care.

on the other hand, Satrapi was affected constantly with government regulations of what to wear and where to go. that i cannot imagine.

there were parts of her story that i didn’t find all that interesting, it didn’t seem that different from other young girls’ tales of growing up, fighting with your parents, listening to rock and roll, and waiting to be loved. it was the setting that was intriguing, or rather the story within the setting. and by setting i mean Iran and the comic strip.

i don’t know what i did to deserve two such beautiful children.

whatever it was, it was so worth it.

of course - they are both sleeping at the moment…….

baby boy
born monday

sore and tired but really happy

boo is an awesome big sister and bunny is an awesome little eater. he latched on right after birth and has been a champ ever since. it’s such a relief, we cup fed boo and fretted for weeks before she got the hang of it.

and he just pooped. which is a bigger deal than you’d think.

pictures are on facebook and hopefully everyone i know got an e-mail. if you didn’t let me know.

my love to you.

today is the day.

i’ve been scheduled for induction - woot!

it’s dark and early and i’m off to the hospital. hubbin is going to sleep in a bit with boo, take her to daycare and then meet up with me at the hospital.

as i was getting ready for bed last night, i looked in the mirror and thought - next time i’m here with a mouthful of Crest, i’ll be the mother of two.

mother of two. that’s awesome!

by the way, we are having a boy. and after last night’s fuckin kick ASS episode of Rock of Love, i’m seriously considering naming him Bret Michaels.

so do me a favour - in honor of our little man, please give yourself a major treat today. major. not just an extra flavor shot in the coffee, i’m talking like BIG and savor it.

easter sunday with fresh snow? come on!

while i love seeing my boo and hubbin bundled up to the hilt sledding down our hill, her squeals of delight and him rubber necking to make sure i saw it, easter sunday with fresh snow? come on!

last night was brutal, i thought i was in labor. 4 hours (from 2:30AM - 6:45AM) spent squirming and panting and at one point actually pushing because i couldn’t take much more. nothing happened. i thought my water would break, or the contractions would get more consistent, but nope. i’d have 30 minutes of back to back to back contractions and then it would stop and just as i was about to settle in - thinking it was all over, the menstrual like cramps would kick in, my back would scream and it would start all over again.

needless to say, i’m fucking exhausted. and here’s the deal, i am so fucking anxious about NOT getting any sleep last night that i’ve had two major breakdowns today. one was because at 7:30AM when i decided a bath might be good idea, there was no hot water. the second came later, as the contractions ceased and i sat down for a proper cuppa around 10. that one was valid. i saw boo’s little princess crown - it says Birthday Girl - and i thought about how soon bunny’s birthday is coming up. and i imagined holding bunny and singing The Birthday Song. and BAM! tears. my mom’s not here.

if my mom were here, all these little worries and things nagging at me would be addressed and taken care of. she’d help me get my shit together and execute my plans, and without her - especially now - it’s just unbearable. thankfully, hubbin gets it. as i sob and choke, he understands my loss. but - in true shining knight form - he reminds me that in a few days i will be holding our new little one, watching them sleep and all will be right. i’ll feel that maternal presence inside of me swell and there over my shoulder Irish Eyes will be smiling down from heaven, telling me - baby is perfect, you’re a wonderful mom, i’m here in my own way.

i just miss her.

and here come the tears again.

we bought a mini-van today. AAAAAAHHHH! what the hell is that all about? GOD!

guh!

it’s like, just give me a jean dress and make volunteer at kindergarden now.

it’s pretty sweet though. i hate saying it, but it’s true.

one more step towards not being cool at all.

if you look to the right, you’ll notice i put up a new link to spidercamp. i can’t remember how i came across the author or the site, but she makes and sells these terrifically naughty little bunny guys which i find hilarious.

so with all of my references to my unborn child as “bunny”, i think it’s pretty funny. but check it out, can’t hurt.

i am going a little nutso being so pregnant, so close to the end and then having time just stop. there is so much to do and i don’t want to do it. i am physically at my limit here lugging this massive girth around.

but hooray! today is the first day of spring! and if it ever stops snowing i’m sure i’ll see bunnies soon.

so now that we have a date for the induction, time has stopped. it can’t come soon enough. i feel huge and tired and crabby and i just want it done.

i want to meet our bunny.

i want to get past this point of just hanging - limbo - waiting and move on.

everyone that i’ve talked to about having a second child tells me that yeah, the experience loses it’s shine. and for me part of the missing sparkle is not having my mom around.

but there is also this fierce (sorry christian lovers) sense of pride. we ARE doing this. and it’s one of those things that really makes me grateful for my family. bunny, hubbin, and boo family - not the other family. my family. the one i made, the one i run.

but enough with the heartburn and sore belly already. i want this bunny out if it’s rabbit hole and into the spring.