| Biographical Non-Fiction posted August 25, 2020 | Chapters: |
...56 57 -58- 59... 
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The early waiting period
A chapter in the book Remembering Yesterday
Growing Waist & Flaring Tempers
by BethShelby
| Background This chapter deals with things that happened in the early months of my pregnancy with my baby who was to be born ten years after the last pregnancy. |
It wasn’t long before our adopted dog, Blackie, caused enough problems that you decided it was time for him to have a new home. One day, a man and his young daughter were riding bikes down our street, and Blackie chased after them, attacking their heels as they rode. The man got off his bike shouting angrily at you.
“If you don’t do something about the dog, I’m calling the pound. He tried to bite my daughter, and if he had, I’d sue you for everything you have.”
You tried to explain that we’d just moved in, and that the lady who lived here before left her dog behind. That didn't seem to matter to the irate man. He wanted someone to take responsibility.
I hated to see Blackie go. He was a cute little guy. He looked like he was smiling when he opened his mouth and wagged his tail, but that incident earned him a home in the country. The next time we went to Mississippi, Blackie went with us, and you gave him to the man, who was keeping an eye on the cattle, which we still owned. There were no more bicycles for him to chase. I’m sure he had to learn some new skills, since he had never seen a cow before.
*******
On one of our trips to Mississippi, we were driving on a state highway, which has county roads coming into it, with only stop signs to limit access. A man, in an old pickup, didn't bother to stop at the sign and plowed into the side of our car, which spun out of control in a complete circle before coming to a stop. Cars still weren't equipped with seat belts in the early seventies. It was a miracle that none of us appeared to be hurt, but I've never seen you quite so angry.
The man stopped long enough for you to give him a severe tongue-lashing. You told him that your wife was pregnant, and his action might cause me to lose the baby. You also told him that he could have killed us all. We called the cops and got his name, but found out that he was not carrying insurance. When our insurance tried to sue him for damages to the side of our car, he declared bankruptcy. We didn't sign off with our company for the rest of my pregnancy, just to make sure the baby would be okay.
********
We were still in the process of getting to know the city, and sometimes when we didn’t leave town on the weekends, we did some exploring. The French Quarter was an interesting place to walk. The houses were very old and many dated back before the Civil War. Most were enclosed behind high wrought iron fences or stone walls with broken glass embedded in a layer of concrete near the top, to discourage anyone who might try to climb over. There were all sorts of unique shops selling souvenirs, clothing, paintings, antiques, and the ever popular voodoo objects. French Restaurants and Coffee shops were everywhere.
Jackson Square was an interesting tourist attraction in the heart of the quarters. In 1803, it was the site of the Louisiana Purchase, which made Louisiana a part of US territory. In the middle of the square was a larger than life statue of General Andrew Jackson riding a horse with its front legs in the air. On one side of the square is the beautiful St. Louis Cathedral, which was usually open for visitors. The cathedral is flanked by the Cabildo, built in 1795. It once served as the Spanish City Hall. One the other side is the Presbytere, once home to Capuchin monks. Both buildings are now Louisiana State museums.
On another side of the square are the upper and lower Pontalba apartments built in 1849 by the Baroness Pontalba. They are the oldest apartments in the United States. The side of the square opposite the cathedral faces the Mississippi River and River Walk.
Around the middle of the square, artists set up their paintings, hoping to sell them to tourists. Most of the time, the artists are in the process of painting. Many of them paint or draw portraits or caricatures, while customers sit in provided chairs, posing for them.
One grouchy-looking artist, sporting a white goatee and wearing a black beret, was painting landscapes with a palate knife, which makes the picture look three-dimensional with globs of oil paint raised an inch or so on the canvas. Don was fascinated by this and decided to see how the paint would feel if he touched it. Unfortunately, the picture wasn’t dry. Angrily the artist scolded Don by yelling, “Don’t Touch!” Red-faced with fear and embarrassment, my son slunk away with an index finger covered in bright yellow paint. He wiped the paint on the side of his pants, before I had a chance to stop him.
Sidewalk performers work on many of the streets doing whatever their talent happens to be. Christi and I paused to watch a skinny black limbo-dancer distorting his body, in order to bend backwards and dance under a pole suspended a few feet from the ground. I was shocked, when after emerging successfully without touching the pole, he whirled and grabbed Christi’s hand and swung her around, incorporating her into his dance. I might have freaked out if Christi had protested, but she laughed and seemed willing to go along with being a part of his act.
******
At a little past five months, when the waist of my dresses began to tighten, I admitted to my department head that I was pregnant. He informed me that the company policy didn't allow pregnant woman to work much past the seventh month. Since it would be necessary to have someone fill my position, I could only return when another position opened up. He assumed that I would be staying home with my newborn for a while. I liked this job and had a good relationship with the five guys in the department, but I had grown used to changing jobs. If I couldn’t go back there, I would be fine with moving on to whatever was next.
I remember the day I decided it was time to tell the children they had a sibling on the way. I was parked in a parking lot at one of the larger malls.
“Kids, before we go in, there is something we need to talk about. I hope it will be good news for you. In a few months, you are going to be getting a new brother or sister. What do you think about that?”
They all stared at me in shocked silence, and no one said anything. I guessed the news was a lot for them to process. Don eventually found his voice.
“Well, it better be a boy then, because we’ve already got too many girls in our house.”
“If you don’t do something about the dog, I’m calling the pound. He tried to bite my daughter, and if he had, I’d sue you for everything you have.”
You tried to explain that we’d just moved in, and that the lady who lived here before left her dog behind. That didn't seem to matter to the irate man. He wanted someone to take responsibility.
I hated to see Blackie go. He was a cute little guy. He looked like he was smiling when he opened his mouth and wagged his tail, but that incident earned him a home in the country. The next time we went to Mississippi, Blackie went with us, and you gave him to the man, who was keeping an eye on the cattle, which we still owned. There were no more bicycles for him to chase. I’m sure he had to learn some new skills, since he had never seen a cow before.
*******
On one of our trips to Mississippi, we were driving on a state highway, which has county roads coming into it, with only stop signs to limit access. A man, in an old pickup, didn't bother to stop at the sign and plowed into the side of our car, which spun out of control in a complete circle before coming to a stop. Cars still weren't equipped with seat belts in the early seventies. It was a miracle that none of us appeared to be hurt, but I've never seen you quite so angry.
The man stopped long enough for you to give him a severe tongue-lashing. You told him that your wife was pregnant, and his action might cause me to lose the baby. You also told him that he could have killed us all. We called the cops and got his name, but found out that he was not carrying insurance. When our insurance tried to sue him for damages to the side of our car, he declared bankruptcy. We didn't sign off with our company for the rest of my pregnancy, just to make sure the baby would be okay.
********
We were still in the process of getting to know the city, and sometimes when we didn’t leave town on the weekends, we did some exploring. The French Quarter was an interesting place to walk. The houses were very old and many dated back before the Civil War. Most were enclosed behind high wrought iron fences or stone walls with broken glass embedded in a layer of concrete near the top, to discourage anyone who might try to climb over. There were all sorts of unique shops selling souvenirs, clothing, paintings, antiques, and the ever popular voodoo objects. French Restaurants and Coffee shops were everywhere.
Jackson Square was an interesting tourist attraction in the heart of the quarters. In 1803, it was the site of the Louisiana Purchase, which made Louisiana a part of US territory. In the middle of the square was a larger than life statue of General Andrew Jackson riding a horse with its front legs in the air. On one side of the square is the beautiful St. Louis Cathedral, which was usually open for visitors. The cathedral is flanked by the Cabildo, built in 1795. It once served as the Spanish City Hall. One the other side is the Presbytere, once home to Capuchin monks. Both buildings are now Louisiana State museums.
On another side of the square are the upper and lower Pontalba apartments built in 1849 by the Baroness Pontalba. They are the oldest apartments in the United States. The side of the square opposite the cathedral faces the Mississippi River and River Walk.
Around the middle of the square, artists set up their paintings, hoping to sell them to tourists. Most of the time, the artists are in the process of painting. Many of them paint or draw portraits or caricatures, while customers sit in provided chairs, posing for them.
One grouchy-looking artist, sporting a white goatee and wearing a black beret, was painting landscapes with a palate knife, which makes the picture look three-dimensional with globs of oil paint raised an inch or so on the canvas. Don was fascinated by this and decided to see how the paint would feel if he touched it. Unfortunately, the picture wasn’t dry. Angrily the artist scolded Don by yelling, “Don’t Touch!” Red-faced with fear and embarrassment, my son slunk away with an index finger covered in bright yellow paint. He wiped the paint on the side of his pants, before I had a chance to stop him.
Sidewalk performers work on many of the streets doing whatever their talent happens to be. Christi and I paused to watch a skinny black limbo-dancer distorting his body, in order to bend backwards and dance under a pole suspended a few feet from the ground. I was shocked, when after emerging successfully without touching the pole, he whirled and grabbed Christi’s hand and swung her around, incorporating her into his dance. I might have freaked out if Christi had protested, but she laughed and seemed willing to go along with being a part of his act.
******
At a little past five months, when the waist of my dresses began to tighten, I admitted to my department head that I was pregnant. He informed me that the company policy didn't allow pregnant woman to work much past the seventh month. Since it would be necessary to have someone fill my position, I could only return when another position opened up. He assumed that I would be staying home with my newborn for a while. I liked this job and had a good relationship with the five guys in the department, but I had grown used to changing jobs. If I couldn’t go back there, I would be fine with moving on to whatever was next.
I remember the day I decided it was time to tell the children they had a sibling on the way. I was parked in a parking lot at one of the larger malls.
“Kids, before we go in, there is something we need to talk about. I hope it will be good news for you. In a few months, you are going to be getting a new brother or sister. What do you think about that?”
They all stared at me in shocked silence, and no one said anything. I guessed the news was a lot for them to process. Don eventually found his voice.
“Well, it better be a boy then, because we’ve already got too many girls in our house.”
 Recognized |
I'm continuing to recall memories of life with my deceased husband as if I am talking aloud to him. I'm doing this because I want my children to know us as we knew each other and not just as their parents
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