Humor Me

As my younger sister nears the impending birth of her second child, I flash back to the birth of her first…

{humor me}

By Jeni Boltshauser

In September of 2007 my baby sister gave birth to a healthy baby boy: Nolan. As I watched her endure 23 long hours of labor, I had plenty of time to think about my little sister. Who was this person about to become Nolan’s mom? I felt a secret glee that I would hold the power of having shared her past. I could share our family stories with my nephew as needed.

I looked forward to the day when he might call his Auntie, angry that his mom won’t let him take a road trip with his friends. “Really?” I’ll say, “Funny, she moved out to California when she was a mere 18 years of age, into a house I shared with three other girls, without asking permission from her mother.”

Then I can share how, just two days after moving in with us, we decided to “break” her in by throwing a raging keger to celebrate her arrival. (It took months to get rid of the puke smell in the heater vent-turned-receptacle she ended up using—or, rather, abusing—that night.)

Watching my sis breathing and pushing and panting, I knew she had no idea what kind of sleep deprivation would be coming her way right on the heels of this ordeal—no idea that after feeling like you tied yourself to an 18-wheeler and performed in the strong man competition, you were expected to not sleep an entire night for three months. (Or, if you are lucky enough to be Riley’s mommy, two years.)

Likewise, nothing can prepare you for the obtuse world of mommy brain—blanking on your address or finding yourself at a loss to do even basic addition or subtraction. I did not give it a second thought when I was pregnant, because I went to college. I knew how to stay up all night, nicely inebriated, and still function the next day. I reassured her, “It does get better.” I would not be cruel and make her play Trivial Pursuit, as our older sister made me, four weeks into it. (Thank God the winning question was, “What does the rooting reflex mean in newborns?”)

I knew, even then, what a wonderful mother my little sister would make. Her sense of humor—the same one that guided her through those long 23 hours—will carry her through Nolan’s life. In the delivery room, she made jokes and ate like a truck driver, even going so far as to ask the nurse to go get her apple juice between contractions and while pushing. As soon as the nurse left, she stopped moaning and said to her friend in the room, “Psst! Esther! Give me some crackers!” She swallowed them in two bites. The nurse returned, none the wiser. It’s this kind of quick thinking and perseverance that will serve her well as a mom.

Jeni lives in Grass Valley with her husband and her often-hilarious, always-surprising 5-year-old son. You can catch her latest blog posts on our home page at SacramentoParent.com.