Babies, babies, babies and Superman

Jason's college roommate, Jordan, is visiting for a while and we took him to the San Diego Zoo this past Sunday. Being Springtime, there were new babies everywhere: orangutan babies, piglet babies, giraffe babies, camel babies, elephant babies, llama babies, people babies... we were surrounded. It was lovely.

It's funny to me how many similar characteristics babies of all species share. There they were, babies of all kinds, annoying their parents, snuggling into the safe refuge of their mothers, staring wide-eyed into their new world in awe, picking on their siblings, and doing the equivalent of a toddler begging for candy. And the mothers all had a similar quality as well: they were tired.

But don't worry about me, I seem to be filling my sleeping quota for the next year in preparation for Baby. Jason really doesn't give me much slack on the baby excuse. He says I can't use the baby if I've always slept like a bear in hibernation. I tell him to mind his own business. Then, exhausted from my defense, I take a nap.

Truly though, I'm finding out now more than ever what an incredible partner I have in Jason. My hormones have been giving us both a little grief lately, and it's so nice to have someone to emotionally collapse against. I don't know how he does it. Before leaving for the zoo Sunday morning we had an argument about what to do with our puppy, Lilly. She had dug out of the yard the night before and we were up late trying to find her. Coyotes are all over the mountain here and they don't discriminate much when it comes to dinner. So, that night I was panicking about Lilly while Jason tried to explain that surely someone had picked her up and they would call in the morning. He was so calm it was driving me crazy. Don't you know she's only five months old, Jason?! She's going to freeze, it'll get down to 25 tonight! Someone probably took her alright, and we'll never see her again! But Jason has the mentality that I think most men have: if something's totally out of their control, they accept that there's nothing they can do about it. Not me. If it's out of my control I will incessantly worry about it. It never does any good, but I feel like I'm at least doing something. After an hour of this habitual worry, our neighbor brought Lilly home.

So, the next morning, after very little sleep, we argued about what to do with Lilly. Now typically when we argue, which is pretty rare, there's a certain point where we've both heard each others point of view and one of us just decides to let it go and the argument is over. Well, we came to that point, but then something very strange happened. My hormones took over. I swear it was Baby. There was no right answer, I just wanted, almost needed to be angry. There was no way out for poor Jason. That night, I apologized to Jason and pleaded temporary insanity. Then, somewhere in the middle of my apology I started to cry. Baby again. I told him, through my sobbing, that I'm terribly mean and impatient and I don't cook enough and I hate laundry and I make an awful wife and I'm about to make a horrible mother. I was crying so much I doubt he could make out half of what I was saying. He held me and told me sweet things until I fell asleep.

I swear, he's Superman. How can he be so tender and so strong for me at the same time? Not to mention the fact that he can survive my wrath in full force. It's impressive really. He's going to make a wonderful father. Plus, if my hormones keep this up, he'll be fully prepared for dealing with both the Terrible Twos and those dreaded teen years of random emotional explosions. I guess I do have it all.