Short Men & Cute Firefighters
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“Against the assault of laughter nothing can stand.”
Mark Twain
An ultrasound. Not a routine one, but one to check my placenta. Until now, my placenta has been deemed too close to my cervix. (Apologies to those who do not crave information about the P and C words, respectively.) The appointment goes well. The tech says what I hoped she would; that my placenta had shifted which means I do not need a C-section. Since I am there anyway, she checks the size of the baby. Whoa. It appears I’m growing a big one. Per her measurements, Baby #3 is coming up on two pounds. Wow. And her cheeks? Per the groovy 3D imaging, legendary. Already.
The doctor comes in and congratulates us. No more Placenta Previa! I ask if he is concerned at all about the size of the baby. The doctor smiles. He says to me, a twinkle in his eye, “Please turn and look at your husband.” Husband is 6 foot 2. The doctor continues, “You women all want tall, dark, and handsome and then you are surprised when you have big babies! If you wanted a small baby, you should have married a short guy like me!”
The doctor? All of 5 foot 5.
I laugh hard.
*
The girls jockey for position on the yellow step stool as they brush their teeth before bed. Baby hops off, runs away, and comes back wearing her big sister’s fireman hat.
“I’m a fireman!” Baby proclaims.
From her perch, Toddler checks her little sister out. Smiles. “No,” she says. “You’re a cute fireman!”
Husband, manning the scene, chuckles and chimes in: “You girls are trouble.”
Toddler gets the final word. “No, Daddy, we are trouble on a stick!”
I laugh hard.
*
Alas, an argument for wedding short men. And one for breeding tiny chubby-cheeked, trouble-making girls. And one for laughter, real gut-ripping, life-affirming laughter.
**This is another of my recent short and sweet, snack-sized posts. My experimental plan here is to cut back on my own words to leave more time and energy to read yours, so comment away and woo me to your bloggy digs!**
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When is the last time you laughed, really laughed? Do you agree that life without laughter is no life at all? Any funny stories to share?









I had to laugh at your ultrasound story because I am carrying baby #2 and sense that this one might be bigger than my dear daughter. My husband is 6’8″, so I shouldn’t be too surprised either, right?
Whoa. You have me beat! Cheers to tall husbands and big babies
Cute funny stories! I love to laugh. A really deep belly laugh that has tears running down your cheeks. I wish I could laugh like that everyday. My sister has the best laugh I have ever heard. Whenever she laughs, you can’t help but laugh with her! Her laugh is really loud and very contagious! I love it!
Cute and funny stories. My son used to have a fireman hat that would light up and it had a siren on it
My favorite conversations are almost always those between my children. They are funny, even more so when they aren’t aware that anyone else is listening.
I “lol” all the time, but the last time I laughed? Really laughed? I can’t remember… and that makes me sad. The past couple years has been rough, and at times I feel like we are winning if we make it through the day with even a smile left on our face. But the “my belly hurts from laughing so hard” moments? I miss those.
There are days that I long to be able to stop “making it” and to be able to start “living it” again.
Ah, the distinction between “making it” and “living it”… I feel like some days are “making it days” and I am happy to crawl into my bed and close my eyes. And then some days I feel extra alive and feel like I am “living it,” the city’s colors seem more electric, and I see and laugh more. I guess, in life, we should aim to having more living than making days. And, yes, laughter plays a pivotal role in the living days… Hope this makes sense.
It does make sense. The trick sometimes is to finding that laughter again in the midst of the tough times. Here’s to us all finding our laughter each day!
*winces*
I still feel the pain of the ten-pounder I gave birth to 11 years ago this month. One look at my current husband was enough to convince me there was no WAY I was going for round two. Unh-uh.
You gotta LOVE a doc with a sense of humor! And the ‘trouble-on-a-stick’ was the most adorable thing I’ve read today. Best wishes for a super-healthy, medium-sized, cherub-cheeked Little One… after all, Little One has some of your genes, too.
Ten pounds! That is amazing
I agree about doctors. It is so important that they have a sense of humor and makes the relationship so much more enjoyable. Several years ago, I asked my OB if it was okay to drink wine when trying to get pregnant and she said, “Aidan, most of my patients probably wouldn’t get pregnant if they didn’t have a little wine to loosen up.” I laughed. And thanks for your wishes. Both of my girls have been in the 7 pound range so I can’t imagine #3 will be enormous, but I guess you never know!!
My husband weight 10lbs 8 oz when born… and his mother is 4 foot 11. Do the math on that one lol.
My pediatrician gave me a similar, albeit reverse, example. When he plotted my son’s grown at 1 year he said “he’s around 50th percentile for height”. I was taken aback and said “50th, you mean average”? He then asked my height (5’2″) and my husbands height (5’9″) and asked me what was wrong with average. I guess in height it’s ok. I will say my “average” babies made for easy deliveries and no sore backs and shoulders when toting them around.
My daughter was making cookies with my mother-in-law the other evening and asked to eat some of the dough. Paranoid me said no because of potential salmonella, which I explained as “germs.”
My daughter, who had been sick all week already, looked at me and said, “But I already have germs, so I can eat these germs, too.”
As with so much in life, I had to laugh. Her logic was, after all, unassailable.
Love the germy cookie dough story. And isn’t laughter utterly critical to navigating the waters of parenthood? I think so. Unassailable logic indeed.
My oldest (4 1/2) has taken to calling his 18 mo. old brother “Adorable.” No matter what P is doing (and it’s usually something he should not be doing), H shakes his head like a wise, old man and says, “Oh, isn’t he just adorable?”
Kills me. Every time. And H knows it, so he keeps saying it.
So glad your ultrasound was good!
Adorable story
How great that you have such a kind and humorous doctor. Looking back, that is exactly what I needed when enduring the nightmare of my pregnancy. What amazes me even more is that your husband was at your appointment! Trying to get my husband there was like pulling teeth.
Anyway I think your doctor is on to something – my husband is only 5’8″ and my daughter was barely 6 pounds!
The short man logic didn’t work here, either. My husband is all of 5’8″ (and I’m 5’6″). Our son? 10 lbs and 23 inches long. The pediatrician said, “Congratulations! You just gave birth to a happy, healthy 2 month old!”
Touble on a stick? Your girls are precious! I just might have to steal that one!
Every morning I wake up hoping someone or something will make me laugh, and laugh loudly. And, so far, I haven’t been disappointed. I think it helps that I have four kids, and my sense of humor hasn’t matured much with age.
Fun stories!
What a great way to start the day – with the hope for laughter. That’s really what it’s all about anyway, right? And, yes, this is another reason I have always craved many kids – to keep the humor young and constant. Thanks for these words!
oh lady… you’ve met my man. all 6 ft 6 of him. there is no wonder why the magoo came out of me at a whopping 9 lb and 6 oz.
i have a thing for tall dark and handsome too.
laughter is saving my sanity lately. the littlest things will throw me for a loop, spiraling me down to a place i don’t want to return to.
and then my little one clobbers my face for kisses and leaves me with his drool because we are both laughing too hard to close our mouths.
(so glad you are doing well and growing a healthy little lady. love those cheeks!)
I can totally relate being all of 5’2″ and a husband who is 6’4″. Each baby came out bigger and bigger, even though I put on less weight! Go figure.
On a side note, it struck me that you are going to have to change your nicknames (Toddler and Baby) when you have baby number three. Any thoughts on that yet?