Friday, March 11, 2011


My post title is TLA.  It stands for Three-Lettered Acronym.  We use a lot of jargon at work.  To make fun of ourselves, we call something a TLA when we make up a word for it.  On my buzzword BINGO card, one square is called "Random Four-Lettered Abbreviation Pronounced Like a Word". 

Anyway, there is something that happens at my work called a Lightning Bolt.  Rather than call it an LB (because clearly that would eventually be shortened to #), we call it LGBT, which of course, always makes me think that we're talking about Lesbian, Gay, Bisexual, and Transgender manufacturing issues.  I giggle a little whenever a giant PowerPoint presentation comes up with that in it, because if they only knew what I was thinking....

You want to know what else is on my BINGO card?
  • Synergies
  • Proactive, not Reactive
  • impactful (gah, kill me now)
  • these trying/difficult economic times
  • world-class or dynamic
  • ROI
  • Key Performance Indicators
  • Urgency, sense of
  • sustainability, corporate responsibility, green
  • strategic
  • safety
  • progress
Part 2:  THREE

I am jealous of people who are certain that their families are done.  Done done done.  My little family is done, but I want another sweet little baby to hold and nurse.  I don't even like babies.  They're all need-filled blankets.  And yet...I want one. 

When I was 25, I didn't want any kids.  When I was 26, I wanted one, some day.  When I was 27, I wanted one rightnow.  I got Chuckles at 29.  After his traumatic birth, my infertility, his no sleep ever ever, and my difficult adjustment to motherhood, I was sure that I could be one and done.  Then I quit my job and was a SAHM for a while and was sure that I did not want any more kids thankyouverymuch.

Then I went back to work and had Bobo.  He was conceived relatively easily (only one drug required!), I felt pretty good during the pregnancy (placenta previa and pelvic rest notwithstanding), the not-totally-unplanned c-section was very easy, he slept through the night from 6 weeks to 3 months (and not again until age 2).  He nursed, grew, and slept.  And I thought about having another.  I actually like being pregnant, and I don't mind nursing. 

But my husband is done.  He's just done.  Consequently, I am done.  We have two (beautiful, healthy) kids.  He doesn't want any more.  He said if we had an oops, he'd be OK with it, but he just can't decide to have another.  He wishes we didn't actually have to decide.  He says normal people have too much wine and wind up with a baby.

So, we agreed that we're done.  There are a few remote conditions where I get a third baby but they aren't very likely (an oops, we win the lottery (we don't play), someone leaves a baby on out front porch, or my 16-year old sister or one of her friends gets pregnant and wants us to adopt the baby).  So, you can see that I don't get to have another baby.  And yet, I want one.  I never thought I would want 3 kids, but I do.  Chuckles was about the age Bobo is now when I started thinking about having another one.  Maybe that's some kind of hormonal thing.  I wouldn't want my kids more than 3.5 years apart so I have less than 6 months to get pregnant.  I guess I better go buy lottery tickets.

Subpart 3:  I signed up to run a half-marathon in August (since I'm not having another baby and won't be pregnant then).  I am crazy stupid, but whatever.  It's done.  Now I am training.  I don't even like running.  And the worst part?  The other night I ran, came home, went to bed, and then dreamed I was running.  Can I count that on my training log?


  1. Part 1: Do we work together?

    Part 2: I am your husband in this scenario. We are done because I said so (even though I loved being pregnant).

    Part 3: I say go for it. ;)

  2. The LGBT thing cracks me up. Are there really people who don't know that acronym? Have I been living in California too long?

    I'm done. Hubby is a little less sure,but not going to push it. And yet I still can tell that I'm going to miss having a baby around. Mostly because I love to kiss sweet little baby heads. And I can't just accost strangers on the street and kiss their baby.

  3. SarcastiCarrie says: Cloud just figured out why little old ladies try to touch your baby, ask if they can help you hold your baby at teh grocery store while you pay, etc. They want to touch sweet little babies. It still freaks me out but at least I understand it now. I always thought it was weird how many little old ladies offered to help hold the baby all the time.


    I keep telling my coworkers that it's traditional, in our office, for new parents to bring in their babies so I can hold them while the new parent eats lunch using both hands.

    So far this has worked once.