We found out yesterday at our ultrasound that this little tomato-sized baby inside me is actually a girl! I watched her kick my bladder and generally ignore the ultrasound tech's pleas to 'flip over!' and was reminded that someday, this kid will be a teenager. That's right, I'm going to have a daughter.
It's really tough to think beyond this time, to be honest. I'm not scared of her becoming a sassy teenager. Right now, I'm focused on making sure she's healthy and strong enough to come out into the world. She looks very good--strong, active, and, dare I say it, cute. OK, she's actually a little skeletal-looking now, at least from the top view, but she's got one heck of a cute profile, and cute little hands and feet.
Anyway, blah blah blah, pregnancy. Let's not overdo it here. I have other things going on too. And while the Black Keys concert wasn't quite as miraculous as the creation of life within my body, it was a close second. The show was great--I've been listening to the Keys for a few years, but this is the first chance I've had to see them live. For only being made up of two guys, they made a lot of noise. Great noise.
There was one thing that bugged me at the show, though. A few rows ahead of me, there was some mouth-breather checking his Facebook. Now, I thought maybe he was going to post a picture of the show or something, but he didn't. He was just scrolling through his friends' profiles! There was an awesome band putting on a rocking show, and this slack-jawed technophile was more interested that his friend "Mike" was "totally going to drink a milkshake" or whatever other genius status update he'd found. There were also plenty of people watching the show through the screen of their iPhone or their cameras. So, these people had paid PLENTY to go see a live show, only to watch it through a screen of some sort. Ugh, people. Please, detach. Life is happening and you're missing it.
Speaking of, I'm going to detach now. Hope you're all well!
xo
Friday, July 8, 2011
Friday, July 1, 2011
Bell Pepper
On Monday, people started to notice that I'm showing. I had five separate people point it out or say I was glowing! All in one day! Up until then, no one had said anything. I guess it makes sense since the baby is almost the size of a bell pepper, but I feel like I've been popping out for about 2 weeks, so I was surprised at the amount of attention I got in one day.
People also feel pretty comfortable asking questions. I think my favorite question of all times is "Were you trying?" Now, call me old-fashioned, but I think it's bizarre that people feel OK asking me this question. Let's pretend we weren't trying. Then what? I see the options being limited to breaking down crying and saying, "Nooo, and I'm sooo scared!" or by responding "Nope, we just got drunk one night..."
On the other hand, it's weird to admit that, yup, we wanted to this to happen, so we did what is necessary to make it happen. Like....don't imagine that, people. That's not something you need to think about. Especially you, Trader Joe's employee. Or you, woman who works in the office next door. Or really, anyone.
Here's what I do like: Being told I'm glowing, being told how amazing it's going to be, and exclamations of "Ooooh, look at you!" and "You're starting to show!" All of that is OK. I also had a woman ask me if I had morning sickness, and when I said that I didn't anymore, she exclaimed, "BITCH!" and then started giggling and apologizing. I guess she had a lot of morning sickness with her babies. That, I didn't mind either. It was kind of delightful.
Anyway, that's what's going on in my uterus and my brain this week. Hope you're all doing well, too!
xo
People also feel pretty comfortable asking questions. I think my favorite question of all times is "Were you trying?" Now, call me old-fashioned, but I think it's bizarre that people feel OK asking me this question. Let's pretend we weren't trying. Then what? I see the options being limited to breaking down crying and saying, "Nooo, and I'm sooo scared!" or by responding "Nope, we just got drunk one night..."
On the other hand, it's weird to admit that, yup, we wanted to this to happen, so we did what is necessary to make it happen. Like....don't imagine that, people. That's not something you need to think about. Especially you, Trader Joe's employee. Or you, woman who works in the office next door. Or really, anyone.
Here's what I do like: Being told I'm glowing, being told how amazing it's going to be, and exclamations of "Ooooh, look at you!" and "You're starting to show!" All of that is OK. I also had a woman ask me if I had morning sickness, and when I said that I didn't anymore, she exclaimed, "BITCH!" and then started giggling and apologizing. I guess she had a lot of morning sickness with her babies. That, I didn't mind either. It was kind of delightful.
Anyway, that's what's going on in my uterus and my brain this week. Hope you're all doing well, too!
xo
Tuesday, June 21, 2011
Avocado
Since I found out I was pregnant back in March, I've been looking ahead at my summer schedule and imagining what I'll look like during different events. For example, there was a wedding about 11 weeks into my pregnancy. I had imagined I'd be huge by then and would need some sort of maternity dress by then. I did not.
Last weekend was Rock the Garden, an outdoor concert at the Walker Art Center. I had imagined I would need to be wearing some sort of special maternity summer outfit for the day. I did not. I wore a normal outfit (and rain boots, since it sprinkled all day).
We're going to see the Black Keys on July 3rd. I had imagined needing to have a special maternity band shirt made. I will NOT need a special maternity band shirt, the way things are going.
And while I'm not exactly looking forward to getting huge, I would like a more 'maternity-like' belly. Right now, it just looks like I've been letting myself take a few extra trips to the Chinese buffet for extra won tons and orange chicken. Or maybe I've just been on the couch watching soaps and eating barbecue potato chips out of the bag for a month. Or perhaps I've been on a 14-day cruise, hitting the midnight buffet every night. It's possible I have recently discovered the local Krispy Kreme gives away their day-olds before 8AM every day and it's right on my way to work. In any case, I don't look pregnant.
And yet, I have an avocado-sized baby nestled in there (which is currently pressing into some important nerves and causing my leg to tingle all day). I mean, I have a moving, living, growing baby in there--one with a heartbeat and a mouth that opens and closes and all that good stuff--and no one would know. I mean, everyone knows now because I'm writing it in here, and this is an internationally-read blog (haha!).
But strangers on the street don't know. Wait staff still offer me wine when I'm out to eat. No one has offered me their bus seat. (This may have something to do with the fact that I haven't been on a bus since getting knocked up, but still. You get the point.)
It's not that I want the attention, really. It's more that I'm SO excited about this and I want everyone to know about it now! So...tell your friends. Feel free to say something like, "Oh, her? Yeah, she's not just gaining a mess of weight. She's just going to be a mom."
Last weekend was Rock the Garden, an outdoor concert at the Walker Art Center. I had imagined I would need to be wearing some sort of special maternity summer outfit for the day. I did not. I wore a normal outfit (and rain boots, since it sprinkled all day).
We're going to see the Black Keys on July 3rd. I had imagined needing to have a special maternity band shirt made. I will NOT need a special maternity band shirt, the way things are going.
And while I'm not exactly looking forward to getting huge, I would like a more 'maternity-like' belly. Right now, it just looks like I've been letting myself take a few extra trips to the Chinese buffet for extra won tons and orange chicken. Or maybe I've just been on the couch watching soaps and eating barbecue potato chips out of the bag for a month. Or perhaps I've been on a 14-day cruise, hitting the midnight buffet every night. It's possible I have recently discovered the local Krispy Kreme gives away their day-olds before 8AM every day and it's right on my way to work. In any case, I don't look pregnant.
And yet, I have an avocado-sized baby nestled in there (which is currently pressing into some important nerves and causing my leg to tingle all day). I mean, I have a moving, living, growing baby in there--one with a heartbeat and a mouth that opens and closes and all that good stuff--and no one would know. I mean, everyone knows now because I'm writing it in here, and this is an internationally-read blog (haha!).
But strangers on the street don't know. Wait staff still offer me wine when I'm out to eat. No one has offered me their bus seat. (This may have something to do with the fact that I haven't been on a bus since getting knocked up, but still. You get the point.)
It's not that I want the attention, really. It's more that I'm SO excited about this and I want everyone to know about it now! So...tell your friends. Feel free to say something like, "Oh, her? Yeah, she's not just gaining a mess of weight. She's just going to be a mom."
Wednesday, May 25, 2011
I Survived the Rapture and All I Got Was This Stupid T-Shirt
OK, there is no t-shirt. And when I tried to request a free bumper sticker (Prepare for The Rapture--May 21, 2011!) from WeCanKnow.com, they denied my request. I'm guessing the sheer embarrassment of all their misplaced certainty and their thousands of billboards worldwide is weighing heavily on their minds right now, and this is too consuming to allow for the time to put a bumper sticker in the mail for me, one of the Damned (but the correct Damned!).
So, as you may or may not know, one reason I am especially glad that the world did not end over the weekend is that I find myself 'with child'. Or, 'with a bun in the oven'. Or, 'in a delicate condition', as Mary likes to say. I really like the term 'knocked up', but I think that there is an air of it being unplanned, and maybe an element of not really being in a relationship with the father. Neither of this is true, much to the delight of my parents.
Besides some morning/noon/night sickness from weeks 7-11, I think I've had a pretty easy time here. I've basically just continued to live my life, with the exception of a few nights when I've lapsed into a mini-coma sometime around 9PM. It helps that I have a husband who will do just about anything I need, from avoiding Mexican food (my latest and strongest aversion), to getting me one of those weird Snoogle body pillows (and sharing a bed with it), to going to the store for lemonade late in the evening. He rubs my back, makes sad faces when I throw up (but leaves me alone like I want him to), and tells me he will still love me when I put on maternity clothes stuffed with pillows in the stomach area and say "This is what you're looking forward to!" He's probably the best husband ever, and he's mine, all mine! Bwa-hahahaha!
Tomorrow, we get to go in and take a look at what's been going on in there over the last 6 weeks, which is when we got to see the baby for the first time. Back then, they were just making sure I wasn't having twins. The baby looked like a little kidney bean with eyes. This is the ultrasound where they tell us if everything is developing normally, where they measure his or her little baby bones and all that. Since I don't necessarily feel pregnant, and I don't really look pregnant (just a little 'too much pizza and beer'-ish, maybe), it's sometimes hard to imagine that I've got this little peanut baby in there. It's reassuring to hear its heartbeat and to know that whatever I'm doing is keeping it safe and sound and healthy--even when I get tangled up in my bike pedals and tip over in the gas station parking lot, or when I eat only crackers and hummus for lunch for like 2 weeks.
Anyway, I'm glad the Rapture didn't happen. That would have been SUCH a bummer.
xo
So, as you may or may not know, one reason I am especially glad that the world did not end over the weekend is that I find myself 'with child'. Or, 'with a bun in the oven'. Or, 'in a delicate condition', as Mary likes to say. I really like the term 'knocked up', but I think that there is an air of it being unplanned, and maybe an element of not really being in a relationship with the father. Neither of this is true, much to the delight of my parents.
Besides some morning/noon/night sickness from weeks 7-11, I think I've had a pretty easy time here. I've basically just continued to live my life, with the exception of a few nights when I've lapsed into a mini-coma sometime around 9PM. It helps that I have a husband who will do just about anything I need, from avoiding Mexican food (my latest and strongest aversion), to getting me one of those weird Snoogle body pillows (and sharing a bed with it), to going to the store for lemonade late in the evening. He rubs my back, makes sad faces when I throw up (but leaves me alone like I want him to), and tells me he will still love me when I put on maternity clothes stuffed with pillows in the stomach area and say "This is what you're looking forward to!" He's probably the best husband ever, and he's mine, all mine! Bwa-hahahaha!
Tomorrow, we get to go in and take a look at what's been going on in there over the last 6 weeks, which is when we got to see the baby for the first time. Back then, they were just making sure I wasn't having twins. The baby looked like a little kidney bean with eyes. This is the ultrasound where they tell us if everything is developing normally, where they measure his or her little baby bones and all that. Since I don't necessarily feel pregnant, and I don't really look pregnant (just a little 'too much pizza and beer'-ish, maybe), it's sometimes hard to imagine that I've got this little peanut baby in there. It's reassuring to hear its heartbeat and to know that whatever I'm doing is keeping it safe and sound and healthy--even when I get tangled up in my bike pedals and tip over in the gas station parking lot, or when I eat only crackers and hummus for lunch for like 2 weeks.
Anyway, I'm glad the Rapture didn't happen. That would have been SUCH a bummer.
xo
Thursday, May 19, 2011
The Top Ten Things I Will Miss This Summer If The Rapture Happens On Saturday
10. The final Harry Potter movie. Oh, did you just think of that, too?
9. Basillica Block Party (Ray Lamontagne and Gomez are playing!), Rock the Garden (My Morning Jacket is playing!), and the Black Keys (THE BLACK KEYS!).
8. Grilling with our neighbors, who happen to be my best friend and her boyfriend.
7. Finally wearing those sweet maternity clothes I've been buying for months.
6. Reading the latest Yann Martel book (even though I've pretty much hated everything he's written other than Life of Pi).
5. Going to the cabin! It's not a summer without the cabin.
4. Rooftop bars in the summer (even though, if you could imagine that The Rapture doesn't actually happen, I won't be able to enjoy beer).
3. Wearing giant sunglasses.
2. Bike rides around the lakes (picnics optional).
1. Popsicles.
9. Basillica Block Party (Ray Lamontagne and Gomez are playing!), Rock the Garden (My Morning Jacket is playing!), and the Black Keys (THE BLACK KEYS!).
8. Grilling with our neighbors, who happen to be my best friend and her boyfriend.
7. Finally wearing those sweet maternity clothes I've been buying for months.
6. Reading the latest Yann Martel book (even though I've pretty much hated everything he's written other than Life of Pi).
5. Going to the cabin! It's not a summer without the cabin.
4. Rooftop bars in the summer (even though, if you could imagine that The Rapture doesn't actually happen, I won't be able to enjoy beer).
3. Wearing giant sunglasses.
2. Bike rides around the lakes (picnics optional).
1. Popsicles.
Wednesday, May 11, 2011
Kumquat
And a balmy hello to you all (Mary, my father-in-law Peter, and maybe Ken)!
I have two things stuck in my craw at the moment. First, there was some bad weather last night, and the news channels dutifully broke into the evening programming to let us know that our homes and lives were in danger. They broke in when Dancing With the Stars and Glee were showing. Big, huge mistake. The local ABC affiliate said that they received mail with wording so strong, they couldn't read it on the radio! Apparently, people were irate that they had to wait awhile longer to figure out which washed-up has been was eliminated from a dancing show, or how the whiny kid on Glee would handle being nominated (or was it not nominated?) for prom queen.
Yes, how dare they give us warning to go to the basement, or let us know that our neighbors were in danger. What could they possibly have been thinking?
And this brings me to what's stuck in my craw: When did TV become so important to us as a society? What else could we be doing with our time? Seriously, people. With all the ways we can access our information, is it really a huge deal that the news stations decided to delay your TV gratification to give out pertinent and vital information? Is that worth a letter?
I'm not saying I don't watch TV. I do. Some days, I watch quite a bit. However, I like to think that I am emotionally unattached to the TV. If I came home and discovered my TV had been stolen, I wouldn't run out and replace it immediately. Sometimes I think that if I wasn't married, I might even go without owning a TV altogether. I would actually like to go a year without TV and see what happens. Maybe I'd write my novel (or at least a children's book), or take up hiking, or plant a garden, or at least read more books.
The main thing is that I'm afraid to bring children into a world where people write nasty letters to news stations for delaying the results of a stupid reality show, or an even stupider fictional show, in the name of providing potentially-life-saving information. That's all.
The other thing bugging me, sort of along the same lines, is that I'm afraid of bringing a child into a world in which they may someday see someone reading a book in an old movie and ask me, "Mommy, what is that man doing?"
There is nothing inherently wrong with technology, nothing at all. I owe a lot of the good things in my life--most importantly, the chance to have a relationship with someone halfway across the world--to technology. But I cannot express the sadness I have over what I think is the imminent extinction of the printed word.
A few weeks ago, Chris and I went to a Borders store on their last day of business. They were shutting down, presumably, because people are turning away from physical books towards e-books on Kindles, or their iPad or whatever. The store was a graveyard of literature. The woman working behind the counter seemed depressed about the closing of the store, and maybe a little shocked at how quickly it had happened. I was a little shocked, too.
So, I'm making a commitment. I will buy children's books now, and when my baby arrives, I will start reading to it immediately. Not from a Kindle, but from a real, tangible, colorful, paper book. And he or she will be able to turn the pages, and will appreciate the weight of a book in his or her hands. And if they stop making books altogether, I will make books for him or her.
I have about 7 1/2 months to learn how to make a book...
xo
I have two things stuck in my craw at the moment. First, there was some bad weather last night, and the news channels dutifully broke into the evening programming to let us know that our homes and lives were in danger. They broke in when Dancing With the Stars and Glee were showing. Big, huge mistake. The local ABC affiliate said that they received mail with wording so strong, they couldn't read it on the radio! Apparently, people were irate that they had to wait awhile longer to figure out which washed-up has been was eliminated from a dancing show, or how the whiny kid on Glee would handle being nominated (or was it not nominated?) for prom queen.
Yes, how dare they give us warning to go to the basement, or let us know that our neighbors were in danger. What could they possibly have been thinking?
And this brings me to what's stuck in my craw: When did TV become so important to us as a society? What else could we be doing with our time? Seriously, people. With all the ways we can access our information, is it really a huge deal that the news stations decided to delay your TV gratification to give out pertinent and vital information? Is that worth a letter?
I'm not saying I don't watch TV. I do. Some days, I watch quite a bit. However, I like to think that I am emotionally unattached to the TV. If I came home and discovered my TV had been stolen, I wouldn't run out and replace it immediately. Sometimes I think that if I wasn't married, I might even go without owning a TV altogether. I would actually like to go a year without TV and see what happens. Maybe I'd write my novel (or at least a children's book), or take up hiking, or plant a garden, or at least read more books.
The main thing is that I'm afraid to bring children into a world where people write nasty letters to news stations for delaying the results of a stupid reality show, or an even stupider fictional show, in the name of providing potentially-life-saving information. That's all.
The other thing bugging me, sort of along the same lines, is that I'm afraid of bringing a child into a world in which they may someday see someone reading a book in an old movie and ask me, "Mommy, what is that man doing?"
There is nothing inherently wrong with technology, nothing at all. I owe a lot of the good things in my life--most importantly, the chance to have a relationship with someone halfway across the world--to technology. But I cannot express the sadness I have over what I think is the imminent extinction of the printed word.
A few weeks ago, Chris and I went to a Borders store on their last day of business. They were shutting down, presumably, because people are turning away from physical books towards e-books on Kindles, or their iPad or whatever. The store was a graveyard of literature. The woman working behind the counter seemed depressed about the closing of the store, and maybe a little shocked at how quickly it had happened. I was a little shocked, too.
So, I'm making a commitment. I will buy children's books now, and when my baby arrives, I will start reading to it immediately. Not from a Kindle, but from a real, tangible, colorful, paper book. And he or she will be able to turn the pages, and will appreciate the weight of a book in his or her hands. And if they stop making books altogether, I will make books for him or her.
I have about 7 1/2 months to learn how to make a book...
xo
Monday, April 18, 2011
Blueberry
So, I shlump into work today and am told that all the work from over the weekend, the work that is usually done electronically, has been done on paper. This means many things to me. First, it means that I will need to acquire lots of paperwork. Second, it means I will have to type what is written on the paper into an electronic system. Third, it means that I will have to call people who would prefer not to speak to me on their days off to bother them about their atrocious handwriting on said paperwork. Fourth, and probably the most relevant to me, it means I can kiss my lunch hour goodbye. And so I kissed it and sent it on its way. Goodbye, lunch hour. Hello, cubicle.
My boss decided that she would 'make it up to us' by ordering us pizza. (And yes, I am about to complain about a free lunch, in case you were picking up on a tone already.)
It's not the idea of a free lunch that bothered me. It's really what the pizza represents. And what does it represent, exactly? It represents the idea that pizza (or any carb-rich, salty food, really) is an equal exchange for an hour away from the shackles of our drab, dreary, quiet office life.
One day last week, I had the opportunity to take my full hour for lunch. I ate quickly at my desk, then drove to a nearby lake. I walked down one of the trails, found a quiet bench tucked away near the lake's shore, and read a chapter of a very well-written book while soaking up the sun. When I returned to the office, I was renewed, refreshed, full of energizing Vitamin D, and endlessly grateful for a job that not only pays me fairly, but allows me to leave for an hour a day. Now that is a lunch hour.
Blah, blah, blah, work leaves me unfulfilled, blah. I'm even tired of hearing about that.
On another note, on Saturday I got to see my best friend's parents. I guess the only way I can explain how they are is to say that they feel and express feelings so freely. Their joy is absolute, and when it's aimed at you, you feel like you're engulfed in sunshine. We only spent a little time together on Saturday, but I walked away with a big smile, and I could hear them laughing behind me. I feel incredibly lucky to have them in my life.
There have been other things: a bike ride, an opera, the forecast of several inches of snow, brunch in uptown with an old friend, and something bigger than I could probably get into right now, but let's just say I think I've figured out what my year is going to be about, and really, what the rest of my life will be about. But that's for another time.
Hope you're all well!
xo
My boss decided that she would 'make it up to us' by ordering us pizza. (And yes, I am about to complain about a free lunch, in case you were picking up on a tone already.)
It's not the idea of a free lunch that bothered me. It's really what the pizza represents. And what does it represent, exactly? It represents the idea that pizza (or any carb-rich, salty food, really) is an equal exchange for an hour away from the shackles of our drab, dreary, quiet office life.
One day last week, I had the opportunity to take my full hour for lunch. I ate quickly at my desk, then drove to a nearby lake. I walked down one of the trails, found a quiet bench tucked away near the lake's shore, and read a chapter of a very well-written book while soaking up the sun. When I returned to the office, I was renewed, refreshed, full of energizing Vitamin D, and endlessly grateful for a job that not only pays me fairly, but allows me to leave for an hour a day. Now that is a lunch hour.
Blah, blah, blah, work leaves me unfulfilled, blah. I'm even tired of hearing about that.
On another note, on Saturday I got to see my best friend's parents. I guess the only way I can explain how they are is to say that they feel and express feelings so freely. Their joy is absolute, and when it's aimed at you, you feel like you're engulfed in sunshine. We only spent a little time together on Saturday, but I walked away with a big smile, and I could hear them laughing behind me. I feel incredibly lucky to have them in my life.
There have been other things: a bike ride, an opera, the forecast of several inches of snow, brunch in uptown with an old friend, and something bigger than I could probably get into right now, but let's just say I think I've figured out what my year is going to be about, and really, what the rest of my life will be about. But that's for another time.
Hope you're all well!
xo
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