Epilogue

Said the Toad to the Kangaroo,
"I can hop and so can you,
so if we marry we'll have a child
Who can jump a mountain and hop a mile
And we can call it a Toadaroo,"
Said the hopeful Toad to the Kangaroo.

Said the Kangaroo, "My dear,
What a perfectly lovely idea.
I would most gladly marry you,
But as for having a Toadaroo,
I'd rather we call it a Kangaroad,"
Said the Kangaroo to the frowning Toad.

So they argued but couldn't agree
On Rangatoo or Kangaree
And finally the Toad said, "I don't give a dang
If it's Rootakoad or Roadakang -
I really don't feel like marrying you!"
"Fine with me," said the Kangaroo.

And the Toad had no more to say,
And the Kangaroo just hopped away.
And they never married or had a child
That could jump a mountain or hop a mile.
What a loss - what a shame -
Just 'cause they couldn't agree on a name.

But in a town in Minnesota
where two couldn't agree one iota,
on a name, first or middle, or even last,
she grew bigger and the months went fast
until she awoke one morning about to deliver,
then it was clear what the name should be - Oliver.

I was reading poems from Shel Silverstein's A Light in the Attic to my six-month-old son, Oliver, when I turned to Toad and the Kangaroo. Oliver was more interested in grabbing at the pages than listening, but he must have noticed the change of tone in my voice, as he looked up at, mouth slightly agape, as I tried reading while suppressing laughter. The poem reminded me of a time - a time that feels so long ago it could have been in a previous life - when our baby didn't have a name. Luckily Chris and I hadn't given much thought to names when we decided to marry and have a child. And we discovered that parenthood's quandaries sometimes will work themselves out. Because my Oliver is an Oliver and I can't imagine him any other way.

So into this world Oliver came and over six months later, I've finally returned to the blog. Months worth of stories about my experiences as a new mom have been swirling around in my head, but I haven't had the time or energy to write them down, because (warning, biggest understatement of all time about to launch) being a parent is so time-consuming. A few times I've sat at the computer and opened the blog, but haven't been able to do more than stare comatose at the screen. The creative energy just was not there. But one of the reasons I started the blog when I was pregnant was that I wanted my child to have something from me. To be able to record the stories from the early years of Oliver's life (or at least until kid #2 comes along at which point I'll really have no time to blog) motivates me to pick up where I left off last September, even if my entries are shorter or less polished.