Pictures from the Day's Festivities

Here are some delovely pics from the family wedding we attended today. We have no good pics of the happy couple (we couldn't see much from our seats), but we got some interesting ones of ourselves.

Ethan boning up on his picture taking skills in the car...

I've got assloads of class

So does my father-in-law, Elliott

Mandatory self portrait

Pictures from the cocktail hour...

The 4 best-looking people at the party (counting Mr. T)

And finally...

The reason I've scheduled a professional maternity/nursing bra fitting--my giant, back-breaking, preggo, mamajamas.

The gargantuan bump. This pic was taken at the end of the evening once we'd returned home, so not the most attractive :).

Black-Tie Bump

We have a black-tie family wedding on Sunday. I purchased my dress about a month ago. It's an adorable black cocktail dress and I found darling shoes to match. Sounds perfect, right?

I tried it on last night to see how it looked once again. MY GOD am I huge now. It doesn't look unattractive or anything, I just look hugemongously knocked up. When I first bought it and tried it on, I had the pretty little early 2nd trimester bump. Now I really just look like I'm smuggling a large melon or small pachyderm under my empire waistline. A barrel on suspenders would look just as curvy on me.

Thank goodness my ankles haven't begun to swell just yet. Still, I had Chinese for dinner last night and the leftovers for dinner tonight. That's a lot of sodium. I'll have to drink ungodly amounts of water tomorrow to flush it all out to avoid early-onset cankles.

This is the last time I am getting dressed up for the duration of my pregnancy. It's t-shirts and yoga pants until December starting Labor Day!!! :)

In baby news, Mr. T is now big enough that I can feel him kick and punch on opposite sides of my stomach when he's having a good stretch. It freaks me out each time. This morning at the diner, he kicked me in the bladder so hard I had to dash for the ladies room. Maybe 3 drops came out--I was so sore it just felt like I was about to burst.

I've heard many a horror story about babies kicking the pee right out of their moms, but I just chalked them all up to urban legend. Now I get it. If Mr. T ever does that to me in public, he will regret it every day for his entire life.

He just gave me two gentle kicks in the cervix when I finished typing that. I swear he can read my mind. Don't call my bluff, kiddo. You don't know who you're messin' with.

Pregnancy Wonders Never Cease

Just when I was learning to live with my chronic back and hip pain (because I have no other choice, according to my doctors), the last 2 days I've been having EXCRUCIATING carpal tunnel pain.

I suffered from mild carpal tunnel syndrome over a decade ago and took ibuprofen for the pain which really helped. Guess what I'm not allowed to take now that I'm pregnant? Bingo. Tylenol dulls the pain a little bit, but doesn't wholly eliminate it. I'll have to scoot over to CVS (sorry Kayly :)) and get some wrist braces.

I'm not posting this merely to whine about my newest malady, but to let the handful of folks who actually read this little blog o' mine know that my posting frequency may decline until my symptoms are better under control.

Now I have to go wash a mountain of dirty dishes by hand, which I'm sure will aggravate things even further. There HAS to be a prescription pain killer out there somewhere that's safe to take during pregnancy. Why won't they give it to me???? Evil bastards.

Tooth Update

I did indeed break off a piece of my tooth, but there was also some decay. The dentist was able to fill it in. Apparently the cavity went fairly deep, but not all the way down to the nerve. We're "keeping an eye on it" in the hopes that the filling will suffice and I won't require another root canal. One was quite enough.

I'm going back on two separate occasions in September for in-depth cleanings. The rest of my teeth are in fairly good condition, but I have gum issues. The hygienist was checking out my gums tooth by tooth and said to the assistant, "She's got bleeding on almost every single tooth!" I wanted to scream (but my mouth was full), "I'M PREGNANT AND YOU'RE JABBING MY GUMS WITH A SHARP INSTRUMENT, YOU *&%^#*$ MORON!!!! OF COURSE MY GUMS ARE BLEEDING!!!!" The assistant did eventually let her know that I'm pregnant. She seemed to be OK with that explanation.

God Told Me to Marry Your 12 Year-Old Daughter

I want to truly, truly hate Warren Jeffs, the FLDS' fallen prophet, yet I'm utterly in awe of his audacity, hubris, and total sense of entitlement.

Not just anyone can get away with all the insane shit he's pulled. That takes real talent and charisma. Like this article regarding one of his current wives being placed in FOSTER CARE. She's 14 now. They were married in 2006. You do the math.

Biking Update

I almost forgot! Ethan went to practice riding on Saturday. When he finished, he was so excited he couldn't wait to call me on his cell and report his progress. He's now able to ride the entire length of the parking lot (and farther if it were longer).

I went along Sunday to witness. He rode the entire length, turned around and came back. He's still working on the turning bit. He manages to do it from time to time, but isn't totally sure how he's making it happen.

At this point, I have to admit that there was a little part of me that wasn't totally convinced that he'd get it. Not because I thought he wasn't capable, but because I wasn't sure if it's something an adult can really master. I'm so glad he's proven me wrong.

Rumbly in my Tumbly

I've decided to refer to the baby as "Mr. T" in this and future posts. First, his name begins with that initial (though we're keeping it private for now) and second, it sounds badass.

Anyhoo...

As of yesterday, Mr. T is big enough that I can see him punching and kicking through my clothing now. Last night he kept bouncing "What to Expect: The First Year" as I was reading and resting it on my stomach. He gave his father's hand several good punches/kicks as well (still can't tell hands from feet).

He's also coordinated enough now that if I poke my fingers into my tummy and hold them there, he'll get annoyed and push back on them. He still enjoys regular bouts of clog dancing on my cervix. I'm sure it's just a matter of time until he's burying those heels in my ribs.

Joy.

Q: How Does He Say This Shit With a Straight Face???

A) His comedy chops are far better than we suspected

B) He has a sardonic wit and flare for irony

C) He has no choice--he's constantly rigged with an explosive device to which Cheney holds the detonator

D)He doesn't actually comprehend what he's saying--just reads the words phonetically and hopes for the best

E) He's the world's biggest, cockiest, hypocritical asshole

My money's on a combination of D and E...

"Bullying and intimidation are not acceptable ways to conduct foreign policy in the 21st century."

President Bush’s Statement on Georgia
Published: August 15, 2008

And I Thought He'd Grow Into It...

Nope. At our 23 week scan this afternoon, we received photographic evidence that our son's monstrous member is keeping up with the rest of him. He's currently weighing in at 1 lb 3 oz. (How much of that is his "meat" is anyone's guess).

When the ultrasound tech saw it, she insisted on taking a picture for us because "it's a good one!!" Her words, not mine. See for yourself...

The Full Monty

Cropped and rotated to show detail

SHOCKING!!!!!

Gestation Education

I've learned quite a few things over the course of this and previous pregnancies; some of which I've shared in previous posts, but will repeat here nonetheless.

1. I REALLY love being pregnant at home. I had focused on the napping at whim and vomiting in one's own toilet, but I just realized another benefit today: not dealing with co-workers' annoying comments and questions. No, it's not decaf and YES, I can have it. How is it any of your business whether or not we were "trying?" Yes, we have a name picked out, but I'm not going to tell you what it is because I couldn't give less of a shit whether you like it or not or used to know someone with the same name who you now hate.

2. When I did have to deal with co-workers' asinine questions, at least they were "normal." I was just reading my bulletin board for moms due in December. One woman's co-worker asked her if she thought her baby could sense electromagnetic energy. WTF?? I responded that she should've answered, "Of course. That's why I keep my stomach covered in aluminum foil. Duh!" (Note: Aluminum foil is also useful for keeping out unwanted alien transmissions and government satellite surveillance).

3. I so didn't have to gain so much weight the first time around. Granted, it came off quickly, but this time I've been more mindful about what and how much I've been eating and have actually lost 4 to 5 lbs over the past 6 mos. I'm not dieting, by any means, just not stuffing my face. My docs are OK with it, and so am I.

4. Maternity clothes for us plus-sized gals have gotten much cuter, cheaper and easier to find over the past 5 years. Hallelujah!! God bless Old Navy and Target!

5. Tylenol PM is the BOMB! I slept so soundly last night I had to get up at 7:00 am this morning. I couldn't FORCE myself back to sleep. For the first time in months, I saw the sunrise coming through the big bay window in our living room. It was glorious. Then I made coffee and--no--it wasn't decaf. I really wish you'd quit asking me that!

6. I actually know enough now, through all our pregnancy ups and downs, to be helpful to other pregnant women. An example: on my bulletin board for plus-sized moms, one woman was freaking out that she's already popped at 8 wks (this is her 2nd pregnancy). I assured her that this was entirely normal due to the abdominal muscles and ligaments being all loosey-goosey from the first time around and implored her to stop trying to stuff herself into her pre-pregnancy clothes. No sense being uncomfortable and self-conscious. On top of that, I found myself doling out advice on the most belly-friendly methods of engaging in...ahem... "relations," shall we say.

7. My subconscious loooooooooooooves to undermine my confidence. I keep having recurring dreams about being unprepared. In one, I'm still in school and I realize when the bell rings after the class I'm in that either a)I have no idea what class is next, or b) I've been forgetting to go to a certain class all semester long and show up for the first time just before finals. In another, I suddenly find myself in the backseat of an empty car zooming down the street and I have to hop in the front and grab the wheel just in time to avoid a crash. Last night, I dreamt that my GPS was broken and I had no idea how to get home. The most obvious are the dreams where I suddenly realize I have a baby that's been home for several days before I finally remember to feed and change him.

8. Being pregnant during the summer sucks ass. I'm not usually a sweaty person, but I can't avoid it this summer. I venture outdoors as little as possible while the sun's out. Going outdoors requires putting on clothes and shoes. I'd much rather stay indoors and expose as much bare skin as possible to the A/C. I've even been taking coldish showers, which is something I couldn't bear to do before.

9. My husband only cares that I shave my armpits. Everything else can grow wild and woolly. Bless his heart. It's just so much bother.

10. Every time the baby kicks, I'm forced to stop and contemplate what a wacky, random, magical place the universe is. When I have these moments I hear David Byrne asking, "How did I get here?" in my head. No idea, Dave, but you sure do make cool bike racks.

I Am Falling Apart...And Other Random Blather

Last night I went into the bathroom to floss. My gum was a little sore and it felt like I had a piece of food (like maybe popcorn skin) stuck between my teeth. Whatever it was popped out, but it was far too crunchy to be food.

Because it's an upper right molar, I couldn't wrench my yap open far enough to see if it was all or part of a filling, but I suspect it was one of the two. Whatever it was, it went down the drain too fast to identify. The tooth looks normal from what I can tell. I don't think it's broken. I just can't get a close enough look at the darkened center to tell if what I'm seeing is filling or empty, gaping hole. I will schedule an appointment with the dentist. I'm due for a cleaning anyway.

My crappy eyesight isn't enough? Now I have to endure 1 or more sessions of oral torture, too? What's next?

I slept on the couch last night again due to sore hips. It finally dawned on me that I'd probably be able to sleep comfortably in bed if I took Tylenol PM before nodding off. It's safe during pregnancy, like benadryl, but has the added bonus of keeping my pain under control rather than just making me drowsy. I have no idea why this hadn't occurred to me previously.

Enough about my ever increasing decrepitude. Has anyone actually been watching the Olympics? I could not be less excited about them this year. I tried to watch a few minutes of the coverage late last night out of perceived patriotic duty, but couldn't cut it. I initially misread the program title as XXX Olympiad (rather than XXIX Olympiad). For a second I was like, "WOW! And I thought they were just on this late because of the time difference!!" I was sorely disappointed. I'm sure I'll be just as disappointed next time around when it really is the XXX Olympiad, but the clean version. Those Romans and their wacky numerals...

An update on the Caylee Anthony case. Apparently her mother, Casey, is claiming to have information regarding Caylee's whereabouts that she would like to share with her parents, but refuses to do so while still in prison where her communications are being monitored. She's supposedly keeping this info from the police to "protect" her daughter. The grandparents still believe Caylee is alive and that Casey knows who has her, but not where they are. They have insinuated that they are close to locating Caylee and should have some "good news" to share with the media shortly.

Meanwhile, the air in the trunk of Casey's car is being tested at the University of Tennessee's Body Farm. Police are still waiting for DNA results from materials found in the trunk. Oh, and let's not forget how Grandma told the 911 operator that the car smelled like it had "a dead body" in it and that a cadaver dog alerted to the scent in the trunk to boot.

I feel terribly for the grandparents. I'm sure they can't bring themselves to believe that their granddaughter is anything but alive and safe, but the fact that they have not convinced their daughter to be forthcoming to the police with any and all information she may possess regarding Caylee's whereabouts speaks volumes.

I've tried to put myself in their shoes and decide whether my absolute allegiance would be to my daughter or granddaughter if I somehow thought the former were responsible for or involved in the latter's death and/or disappearance. Perhaps they know that Caylee's gone, so they feel they have to protect their daughter rather than lose her, too. That's almost understandable if Caylee's death were accidental. Not so understandable in the case of intentional homicide, not that we know a) if she is indeed dead or b) the manner of death.

Regardless, I'm on pins and needles waiting for the DNA results and info from the Body Farm. I haven't been this wrapped up in a case since Martha Moxley and Chandra Levy.

My Husband Rocks

As I mentioned on my other blog, Ethan has taken up learning to ride a bicycle at the tender age of 37 (38 next month!). It was tough going at first. Bicycling is a complex integration of balance and muscle coordination. The average child's fresh, springy brain is able to master these skills rather rapidly. It's far more difficult for the stiff, stodgy brain of your average adult.

Periodically, I accompany Ethan to view his progress and offer any advice I can. Today I did nothing but cheer. In a handful of practice sessions, he's gone from not even being able to get both feet on the pedals to mastering all the basics: pedaling, steering, turning and breaking. I was blown away. He's still a little too shaky to try out the local bike path, but I can tell he's only 1 or 2 more practice sessions away.

I was so proud toward the end of the session that I actually got misty. It was so moving to see him accomplish something he's been wanting to do for so long. I can't wait until we're both standing off to the side and cheering our son on when he finally masters the same skill.

You rock, babe! Well done! XOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXO

Jeepers Creepers

I need new peepers. Just before Ethan fertilized my crescent, I noticed a slight decline in the visual acuity of my left eye. The right is still pretty darn good as far as distance is concerned.

Lately, I've noticed that I have some difficulty reading small print, which was never a problem before. I'm not sure if this change is simply pregnancy-related, or if I actually require bifocals. I had lasik back in 2001 and enjoyed superhuman vision for quite a few years. It's only in the last year that I've noticed a decline in my vision. Perhaps I should make an appointment for an exam.

The fun part of my recent impairment? I've noticed that my focus is off, too, so my eyes will skip from line to line sometimes when I'm reading the computer monitor. This makes for some hilariously blended headlines when I'm scanning the news sites. Cases in point:

"Microbioligist claims she contaminated ground beef"--I can just imagine a bitter, mousy scientist poisoning America's food supply.

(Microbiologist claims she was stalked by anthrax suspect + Whole Foods recalling possibly contaminated ground beef)

My favorite, which requires no editorial comments on my part:

"Angry Barbados residents plant son's placenta in orchard"

(Angry Barbados residents slam discovery, naming of tiny snake + Matthew McConaughey to plant son's placenta in orchard)

I'm a Disgusting, Accident-Prone Pig

I was starving come lunchtime, so I cooked up my second box of Kraft Mac & Cheese. I devoured the entire box in the space of 10 mins. All was well for a minute or two until my stomach, restricted by my burgeoning uterus, decided it simply didn't have room for all of it and began to shoo the surplus into my throat.

I made a mad dash to the bathroom where I vomited with great force; so much so that I not only strained my abdominal muscles, but lost complete control of my bladder as well.

My gluttony caused me to vomit, injure and piss myself--in that order. I'd be utterly humiliated if it weren't so funny. What am I, Roman????

This article made my morning...

Phallus-shaped flower is botanical superstar
One of the world's largest flowers, it stinks of rotting meat or rancid cheese

The picture is truly worth 1,000 words. That woman is TRANSFIXED!!! I also like the comment about its timing being "unpredictable."

Learning by Doing

Best possible way to learn. And what did I learn by doing today? That I am too friggin' fat and pregnant to go grocery shopping by myself anymore--at least until summer's over.

I decided to do two week's worth of shopping today to save myself a trip. Huge mistake. By the time I got to the register my back was aching, I was sweating profusely, huffing and puffing and had turned beet red. Then I had to bag everything. load it into my cart (cuz no one does either for you anymore, apparently), load it all into my car and then schlep upstairs everything that needed to be refrigerated or frozen. I left a few bags worth of dry goods in the car for Ethan to carry up later.

I'm BEAT!!! But I must say, I made a killing. My first trip to Shop Rite since I promised myself to switch stores. Their meat specials are crazy! I had no idea. We now have steaks and chicken breasts out the wazoo.

The only good part of the exhausting trip? I'm indulging two of my random cravings right now for a late lunch--Fresca and Kraft Mac N' Cheese. I haven't had Kraft Mac N' Cheese in years, but last night I saw a commercial and HAD to have it ASAP. The Fresca just jumped out at me when I was cruising down the beverage aisle. So deliciously citrus-y!

So, from now on, I will make sure Ethan either accompanies me to the grocery store or is home to schlep all the bags up. I just can't hack it in this heat. Neither can Junior, apparently. He's been kicking me like crazy since I got home. He's tired and hungry, too.

In real news, I've been following the Caylee Anthony case. She's the little girl who was missing for a month before her mom reported her. Check out the details on the Investigation Discovery Web site. Smells fishier'n a $2 meth ho, if you ask me. Mom offed her and grandma helped cover it up, no doubt. Terrible shame--and this Saturday would've been her 3rd birthday.

Semi-Lazy

I had a mild stomach virus yesterday. No puking, but issues on the other end and I felt like my veins were full of lead. Therefore, I did exactly 1 load of laundry yesterday. That was the extent of my chores for the day.

Today the digestive issues are much improved, but my energy level isn't quite up to snuff just yet. Still, I managed to take the dogs for a walk and put all the clean laundry away--not just the solitary load I did yesterday, but the mounds of clean stuff that has been sitting on the shelf above the washer/dryer for months now, half of which were baby clothes.

I'm taking a little break right now. Standing for an extended period folding and putting away laundry gave me a terrible ache in my middle back. That's a new one--it's usually my lower back that bothers me. I'm proud to say that I WILL be cooking dinner tonight. I thawed turkey breast fillets in the fridge overnight and need to cook them or they'll go to waste.

So I'm still not up to the activity level I'm aspiring to, but getting there. I was reading "confessions" on my babycenter.com bulletin board for moms due in December and apparently I'm not alone. There are a lot of pregnant women out there who can't bring themselves to do housework (guilty), shave their legs (guilty) or even shower daily (that's just gross--especially in this humidity).

I find I have more energy on days when the baby is chilling out--like today. When he's in full-on uterine assault mode it's difficult to even sit upright for extended periods of time. Now that I've figured this out, I can try to tailor my activity so that I get more done days when he's being nice to Mama so I can relax and put my feet up on the days when he's not.

Oops. Did I promise in an earlier post that not every single post on this blog would be pregnancy-related? Sorry, forgot about that. There's just been such a dearth of interesting news and current events lately that there's little else to talk about. I have been following the story of the stabbing/cannibalism case on the Greyhound Canada bus, however. So random. Check it out if you haven't already. Someone should really tell the suspect, "Next time, pack a lunch eh??"

Budget Crunching

I've tuned out on politics the last week or so. I needed a mental break. Have the powers that be finally admitted that we're in an honest to God, ginuwine recession? Yesterday I decided to be proactive (one of my most hated words) and draw up a household budget to see where we can cut some corners. It's quite an adjustment transitioning from 2 incomes to 1. After maybe 90 mins of research, number crunching and phone calls, I figured out how to save us approx. $150/mo. Not bad for a day's work!

First I figured out how much money we'd save if Ethan drove the Toyota to work instead of the Oldsmobile. I know the Olds is a guzzler, but his commute is rather short, so I didn't think it made that much of a difference. When I multiplied how many times a month he had to fill up (3) by the difference of the cost of a tank for the Olds ($65) and the Toyota ($45) and factored in a little extra for the Toyota's better mpg, it came out to $75. That's almost a week's worth of groceries!

Next, we had considered eliminating our land line phone and just using our cell phones which would save us approx. $85-90/mo. I decided to call up the cable company to see how much we'd save if we got the "triple play" (cable, phone and Internet--we have all but the phone already). It turns out that we can keep our land line phone (same number, too!) and still save around $80/mo. Eureka!

Next is to switch Ethan over to my cell phone carrier so we can get a family plan. That should save us another $20-30/mo. I've also promised to make better use of our annoying washer/dryer since it's included in our rent, rather then dropping everything off at the laundromat. If I can forgo the wash and fold luxury altogether, that should save us another $40-50/mo.

That's already more than $200/mo! I've also promised myself that I will start shopping at Shop Rite rather than Stop N' Shop. It really is less expensive and the merchandise is the same. I only prefer Stop N' Shop because the ceilings are higher and the aisles wider. And it has a Starbucks kiosk. Nothing like traipsing up and down the roomy aisles sipping a grande non-fat chai latte. By comparison, the Shop Rite has low ceilings and the aisles are narrower and the shelves taller which have the combined effect of making me super claustrophobic. I'm sure I'll adjust.

With the price difference btwn both stores plus average coupon savings, that could total another $100/mo. So we're at a total savings of $300/mo. and we haven't even really sacrificed anything yet. No services cut (apart from the laundry, but that was a super luxury), no real added inconveniences. It's kind of disgusting how we were pissing that money away each month without even realizing it.

I keep surfing the web for other penny-pinching ideas, but not that many of them really apply to us or fit our lifestyle. Please chime in with whatever you and your family are doing to save some scratch. I'd love to hear!

Dog Nuts (Warning: May contain cutesy pet story)

I decided to make myself pecan pancakes for breakfast this morning. Looooooove me some pecan pancakes. I accidentally dropped 2 of the 4 into the sink, where there was about a 1/2 inch of standing water. I was momentarily crestfallen, but I soon realized that the 2 I had left were more than enough for me.

I fished the 2 out of the sink (they landed in such a way that they were barely even soggy) and put them in the dog's bowls. Neither of the dogs were in the kitchen, yet somehow Fred "sensed" the presence of pancakes within his reach. I am president and Freddy is VP of my International Pancake Appreciation Society (IPAS, Membership = 2). He immediately ran out, snatched a huge chunk, and sprinted for the bed.

He likes to hide treats in the bedspread. He'll spend a good 5 minutes trying to push the covers on top of whatever he's burying with his schnoz. Sometimes he gets frustrated and yells at the treat in that special language that only Shih Tzus speak. It's not barking, growling, yipping or howling--just a long string of choppy vowel sounds that you'd swear was an actual sentence.

I chased him out to the living room where I divvied the pancakes up between him and Lulu. Lesson learned: Dogs don't like pecans, at least not my dogs. They ate all the cake from around them and spit the nuts all over my living room carpet, which I will clean up shortly.

I did learn yesterday that Fred eats bananas, but Lulu doesn't. An interesting discovery.

What Lulu does eat, though she'd been on an extended hiatus, is cat poop. I know this is common for dogs, but it had been so long that we really thought she'd broken the habit. The other night she came charging into the living room looking like she'd just won the lottery with something brown and cigar-shaped in her mouth. Fred was right on her heels looking for his share. Ethan and I looked at each other, puzzled. There was nothing on the floor in that shape or shade that we knew of. I looked closer and saw the flecks of litter.

Ethan hopped up from the couch and repeatedly yelled, "Drop it! Bad dog!" She just looked at him like, "No way, MFer. Get your own!" At one point, half the "item" broke off and dropped to the floor. She eventually spit out the other half. Normally when she picks up something iffy on the street, we fish it out. No way were we going spelunking in the wet, pink, fleshy folds of her mouth for cat poop (have you ever looked inside a Shih Tzu's mouth? It's TERRIFYING! Anything could be hiding in there).

She tried to jump up on the couch to give us apology kisses, but we made her stay on the floor until bed time. Her feelings were clearly hurt. In her defense, it was the filet mignon of cat poops. It was huge and looked super fresh. I can see why she had a problem resisting. Still, she's banned from giving us kisses until sometime next week.

LU x 2

I've already got an hour's worth of chores under my belt and still have energy for more. Woo hoo! Please note that I'm posting this after 5:00 PM. This would be considered pathetic for a normal person, but I'm digging my way out of a collapsed Depression Mine. Also, the baby wore me out yesterday with his extended cervical onslaught.

On a more positive note, I think my mood is up even higher today than yesterday. Maybe I'll be able to cut back on the Zoloft after all. All in good time. If red wine weren't off limits, I could kick the Z in a heartbeat! Dr. Spock says a nursing mother can have up to 2 beers or glasses of wine a day without affecting the baby. You know what that means. As soon as I'm able to make it up and down the stairs after the C-section, Mommy and Aunt Kayly are taking a field trip to the Wine Library (which is a cruel misnomer--they don't actually lend you the wine for free).

I had a dream last night that a rather large part of the baby was poking a big round lump on my belly. I grabbed it and squeezed it trying to identify it until I realized it was probably the baby's head, and I really shouldn't be squeezing it that hard. But I gave it another squeeze and noticed a definite "cleft" in the middle and figured out that it was his butt, so I gave it a "Get back in there!!" shove.

I'm sure he was kicking the crap out of me in my sleep. He's quite the kicker/puncher. In MMA (mixed martial arts) Land we'd say he's got a "great stand-up game." From all the tumbling he does, he might just have an excellent ground game, too. Lord knows he almost made me tap out yesterday.

Laziness Update

I promised I would check in with you periodically to let you know how I'm doing on the laziness challenge. So far, so good! Granted, I've started off slowly, only doing about 1 hour's worth of chores a day.

Yesterday that hour was spent going to the grocery store. I forget what I did Monday, but I did at least an hour's worth of it. Today I've already put in about 20 mins tidying the living room. I've got another 10-15 mins to go and then I'm off to the bathroom. We're going out to dinner with a friend tonight, so those are the only 2 rooms she's likely to see. I'll leave the kitchen and dishes for tomorrow.

My energy level is actually approaching normal today, and my mood is certainly higher than it was last week. The only things I have working against me today, physically speaking, are my usual back pain and the kid riding heavy on and kicking the crap out of my cervix all day long. It isn't painful, just really uncomfortable. I have to sit down periodically to try to get him to move, which he absolutely refuses to do.

It feels like he's trying to escape. Someone needs to inform him that he needs to chill out for another 5 months before he can get outta Dodge. He stops kicking if I rock him in the rocking chair, but he refuses to relocate. I'm about to stand on my head or do cartwheels. This is my penance for complaining last night that he was pushing up on my stomach and giving me heartburn. He's a spiteful little shit.

I Like Weird Smells (It Puts The Lotion on Its Skin...)

My mom gave me 2 bottles of this wonderfully moisturizing lotion while we were visiting this past weekend. In the bottle it has almost no scent, but when I put it on my skin, it smells like plastic Band-Aids. The problem is my skin, not the lotion. It does odd things to fragrances. Some people might be put off by this olfactory transformation, but I found it to be a pleasant surprise. I love the smell of Band-Aids. Plastic ones especially, but the stretchy fabric ones are OK, too.

Since I put the lotion on right before bed, I lay awake for a good 20 minutes thinking about all the other weird smells I like. Feel free to chime in with any weird smells you happen to like. I'd be fascinated to hear.

These are not necessarily in order of preference...

1. Puppy Breath--my absolute favorite smell right after baby heads.

2. The way my dogs smell right after they come in from a walk on a sunny day. I don't know if it's the fresh air or the way the sun activates their oil glands, but they smell wonderful. I scoop them up and bury my nose in their fuzzy coats and tell them they smell like "sunshine." Wet dog smell is repugnant, however. I also love the way Ethan's hair smells when he comes in from the sun, so I'm guessing its an oil gland thing.

3. New shower curtain smell--Applies to vinyl shower curtains only.

4. The smell of those hard, pink parallelogram-shaped erasers you'd get in elementary school--especially when you'd just vigorously erased something and the rubber was still warm from the friction.

5. Crayons--Love that waxy smell. Oddly enough, when I put on patchouli oil (which I haven't done since college), my wacky skin makes it smell exactly like crayons.

6. Rubbing Alcohol and bleach--From a distance. I don't stick my nose right up to the bottle and inhale deeply. They just smell so "clean" to me. Like purity in a bottle.

7. Rain on hot asphalt. I don't know if this is a "weird" smell or not. I can understand how many folks might find it unpleasant, but I love it.

8. That earthwormy smell that hangs in the air after a long, hard rain when the ground is so drenched that all the worms have to come up to the surface. I spent many summer days as a kid rescuing worms that had crawled onto the asphalt to escape the deluge.

9. The smell left on your hands after you've held a caterpillar or caught and released a lightning bug (or firefly, depending on what neck of the woods you're from).

10. Rubber tires. Car or bicycle. Right now we have our bikes parked in the other bedroom which will be the nursery as soon as we get our shit together. Sometimes I just stick my head in their and inhale. I'll give the room a good airing out before Junior comes home.

If I think of others, I'll tack them on later.

Inertia is the Enemy

I finally opened up to my therapist today and admitted out loud that I am incredibly freaking lazy. I am--shamelessly so.

Until recently I've had various excuses to justify my laziness--depression after losing the twins, depression after being let go from work, depression and anxiety regarding the health of this baby, etc.

What I realized today is that I no longer have any valid excuse to sit on my butt all day. I have a wonderfully healthy baby in my stomach who deserves to have a fantabulous nursery and well-organized apartment to come home to as does my hard-working, sole bread-winner husband. I vowed to my therapist that I would start off slowly, setting 1-2 hours a day aside for housework and/or nursery decoration. He thought that was a stellar plan.

What's kept me from doing this until now? Glad you asked. The answer, my friend, is a complete and utter lack of accountability. I became lazy and disinterested simply because I had no deadlines or semi-yearly reviews. If the dishes don't get done, who's going to call me into his/her office to give me a tongue-lashing or fire me? Nobody. Hence this post. I'm putting my plan out there on the Internets so that you readers (all 2 of you) can hold me accountable to sticking to it. I will sum up my progress periodically. Feel free to give me the above mentioned tongue-lashing if I fail to comply.

In other news, Christian Bale has been put on probation from my boyfriend list until more details of his alleged assault on his mother and sister are made public. I'm hoping he didn't actually hit them or anything. Perhaps he just threw a drink on them. The latter would not result in permanent removal from my list as the bitches probably deserved it (KIDDING...JEEZ!!!!! Simmer down...). Gael Garcia Bernal and Johnny Depp remain in good standing.

Some interesting celeb quotes of the week:

At least she's honest: "You know how you do things, and you don't really know why you're doing them until the end? I don't know why I'm doing this yet. I'm (sic) just know I'm an exhibitionist." — Pamela Anderson, who has a new reality series.

Besides, the busier she stays, the less likely she is to "give it up" and get knocked up: "I probably won't tour again as a 'Hannah Montana' tour ... I'm kind of past that stuff. But I definitely wanna keep doing my show. I love doing (it) and I wouldn't wanna give it up quite yet." — Miley Cyrus.

Who the fuck needs you anyway???: "Just because I'm famous doesn't mean that I work for the audience. I'm not obligated to do anything. I'm an artist. I will do what I want to do. Whatever the consequences. ... I certainly hope that it's a civilized reaction." — Neil Young. SO THERE!!

Hiatus Interruptus

Nothing Personal is back--with a vengeance! I have no idea what I mean by that--it just sounded exciting.

If I've learned one invaluable life lesson since this blog was first created, it's that I need to accept that I have absolutely no control over my own life's path and to just kick back and enjoy where it takes me. So much wacky shit has happened over the past 5 years that I have ceased to imagine what the next 5 years might bring because I will invariably be wrong.

After 3 painful pregnancy losses, we decided to adopt. It's a long, arduous process, but we were committed to it--and to creating a family. I bought and read every book on adoption I could get my hands on. I started to forget what was so great about biological children anyway and could no longer even picture myself with a caucasian baby.

Then, in early May, I realized that it had been a while since I had my period (uh, like SEVEN WEEKS!!!). I bought some HPTs to prove to myself that there was nothing to worry about and chalked it up to adoption-related stress. The first stick turned positive in seconds. The next morning, the second stick turned positive before I finished peeing on it. We were speechless.

The next few months were filled with incessant, debilitating worry about the health of the baby. We finally got the all clear that the little man was A-OK this past week. Naturally, we're excited. I still found it odd to picture myself with a caucasian baby after months of assuming my son would be coming from Eastern or Central Asia. Then I saw his face. I'm completely and utterly in love. He is the single most adorable, beautiful, perfect thing I have ever laid eyes on--and he's only half-baked. See for yourself. He looks like Daddy :)

We made this gorgeous creature with our naughty bits! That's INSANE!!!!

As I said on Bishkek Bop, it looks likely that we may not receive a referral until I'm too far along to travel, so our adoption plans are temporarily on hold. We have a lot of things to think about between now and when the baby's born. Do we still want to adopt a boy, or switch to a girl now that we're expecting a boy? How far apart in age do we want them to be? And so forth...

I've been so wrapped up in the adoption and pregnancy whirlwinds that I haven't been paying nearly as much attention to current events and the everyday things I used to pontificate about on this blog. I promise to discuss more than my developing fetus in future posts.

Now I need to feed the wee beastie. He demands lunch.

V

Indefinite Hiatus

This blog is on indefinite hiatus while I chronicle our adoption journey to bring home our child from Vietnam on my new blog: http://sincofffamily.blogspot.com/

Please feel free to stop by!

Vacation, all I ever wanted....

I apologize up front for the super-obvious title, but I had no choice.

It's been about 2 mos. since my last posting. This should suggest to you just how interesting my life has been in the past 9 weeks or so. I've been doing nothing but working and preparing for the holidays the entire time.

Thankfully all that mishegas is finally at an end and I am on day 5 of my 10 day vacation. I have sworn to spend as much of this vacation as possible in my PJs and slippers. I even went across the street to the cafe in my PJs and winter coat to get lunch yesterday. When I make a promise to myself, I keep it. For the most part, I'm just reading, knitting, and watching TV. I sorely needed to check out for a week and I'm making the most of it.

This weekend will be busy. Friday night we have dinner with our friends Ernie and Eleanor, Saturday is New Year's Eve and New Year's Day I promised to make traditional PA Dutch pork and sauerkraut for at least 6 people, supposing they're all still coming and aren't so hungover that the mere smell of the pungent dish will prevent them from partaking.

We haven't solidified our New Year's Eve plans just yet. We had thought about going to the event at the wine bar around the corner from us, but I'm having second thoughts. NYE falls during a time of the month when I shouldn't be drinking in the event that we might be pregnant. I know many would say that no time of the month is a good time when trying to conceive, but let a girl have a glass or two of pinot on her period for Christ's sweet sake. It's the only thing that keeps her sane and her husband out of harm's way.

Besides, $30/person is a lot of money if you're not knocking back the hooch. That's the charge from 8-11pm ($30 for hors d'oeuvres and open bar) at 11 it converts to a cash bar. Not a bad deal if you get there early, but from 11 on there's a $10 cover charge. WTF is that?? Cover charge AND cash bar? There's a wonderful liquor store that's part of the wine bar. I think we should just go there earlier in the day, by a few bottles of wine and a bottle of champagne and hole up in the apartment with lots of good snacks.

I hate going out on NYE. It's never as fun as you think it's going to be. You either get too drunk or not drunk enough and then you have to schlep home from wherever you are praying the whole way that some drunk asshole doesn't plow into you. Cuz that's when it'll happen, you know. Not after a great NYE party, but a sucky one--so the last thought in your head before the last of your blood flows onto the pavement is, "Dude, I KNEW I should've stayed in tonight. FUCK!!"

So far I'm enjoying my vacation. For the first time in about two months my neck and shoulders are relaxed and that annoying crease down the middle of my forehead has softened and all but disappeared. This not-working gig is pretty sweet. I'm still working on convincing Ethan that I should be a stay at home mom (he's all for the idea in general, just not sure that we can swing it financially right now). Not that being an SAHM isn't tons of work, but that period just before the little one pops out where I just get to put my feet up and relax and be pregnant sounds too, too fab. Working pregnant sucks ass.

That's it. I have nothing else to say. It's been a slow newsweek and my brain is on vacation along with the rest of my body. I just wanted to check in to let everyone know I'm not dead, just boring.

Talk soon,
V

We Had an Interesting Week....

For a change. As mentioned in my previous post, we went to see Weezer and Foo Fighters last Friday. I dug the show a little more than the ball and chain, but I happen to have insane, schoolgirl crushes on both Rivers Cuomo and Dave Grohl, so that's to be expected.

Weezer put on a great show with the perfect mix of old and new stuff. We think Rivers might be sporting a little bald spot on the back of his head, but it could have been a glare. Foos rocked my ass off. They had a spectacular light show complete with video screens that we couldn't see from our seats at the side of the stage, but I imagine it was really cool. Those in view of it seemed to enjoy it.

I have yet to download the new Foo Fighters album. My friend Tom burned the new Weezer for me a while back. I gave it one listen and immediately dismissed it. At first listen it's a really pussy sounding album. Fortunately, the guys were on Howard Stern the other day and Rivers gave an amazing interview.

I always assumed he was a tortured artist/control freak/diva like Billy Corgan, but he's actually a really down to earth, humble, even shy guy. Apparently he's been celibate the last 2 1/2 years and plans to remain so until he finds the right girl to marry. I'm pretty sure he used the "m" word. I was transfixed. And immediately began racking my brain for single girlfriends I could fix him up with through whom I could live vicariously. I forwarded his picture to my friend Chantel, whom I think would be a PERFECT match for Rivers by the way, but she dismissed him as a "total dork." I was crestfallen. I told her that what she said was blasphemy and that Rivers is beautiful and perfect and that she is wholly unworthy of his geek godliness. She has no idea what a testament it is to her person that I would even consider her as a potential mate for Rivers. What an ingrate!!

Anyhoo, back to the point--after the interview I decided to give the album another listen and now I really like it. Apart from Beverly Hills and We Are All on Drugs, the rest of the album is either Rivers apologizing for being a jerk in his past life (part of his whole self-improvement kick) or love songs about how he fucked up past relationships or how he would like his future relationships to be. It's actually really touching. If I hadn't heard the interview, I would have dismissed many of the lyrics as trite and, as I said before, pussy, but now I realize that they're completely open, honest and earnest. Some of the choruses are pretty weak, but the songs are still good enough that that's easily forgiven.

Speaking of my fellow Weezer fan, Tom, he and his wife Jamie just had their second daughter, Gwen, yesterday. She's gorgeous, as is her big sister, Evie. Congratulations to the proud parents!

I found out the good news last night when we got home from Sukkot dinner at a co-worker's house. It was my first time dining in a sukka. I really enjoyed the experience. My co-worker's family is much more observant than we are, so it was nice to get a peek inside an observant Jewish home. It makes me realize what slackers we've been this past year. We need to get back to temple soon. We're bad Jews.

Looking forward to the weekend. Saturday night is my friend Jen's pirate-themed Halloween party. Ethan and I haven't gone shopping for costumes yet. Hopefully we'll find something not too lame, especially if my best friend Kayly decides to have her pirate-themed birthday party after all. Then we won't have to go shopping again. I'm sure pirate costumes are harder to come by in December than October.

On the girth tip, I have officially lost 9.8 lbs. so far. I've finally lost enough that one of my co-workers commented on it today. I rock. That's my daily affirmation. I'm not getting cocky just yet. I've lost the equivalent of two bags of potatoes. That just leaves.....a shitload of potatoes to go. Best not to think about it in those terms. Then again, I'm German-Irish. How else am I supposed to think about it? Beer, perhaps--in which case I've lost almost 10 pints of Guinness or Franziskaner Hefe Weizen. That's more than I can drink in one night, so you KNOW it's a lot! ;)

Nighty night,
V

This Sucks

It has been raining for six straight days. The weather has us so depressed that we did nothing with our day off today save sleep until 2pm and watch bad tv.

We were up briefly around 8am to move the car so as not to get ticketed and walk the dogs and found ourselves watching Sidekicks until the end. We couldn't tear ourselves away. Six days of shitty weather has stripped us of all our motivation, taste, and will to live, apparently. Mostly, I just felt really sad for Jonathan Brandis. Imagine Sidekicks being your crowning achievement. No wonder he cashed in early, the poor bastard.

If this weather doesn't break soon, I may lose my shit. Enough is enough. Ethan expressed it most eloquently when he said, "Where the fuck are we? Manchester??" I can't hack this much longer. A blizzard would be a welcome change. Even the dogs are depressed. Lulu spent most of the day on the couch on her back with her head lolling over the side. I had to poke her periodically just to make sure she was still alive. Fred just looks cranky, which is his normal expression, but he looks exceptionally cranky the last few days.

If it rains throughout this weekend I just do not know what I'll do. I have to get out. I'm the original homeboday and I have cabin fever. We're going to see Weezer and Foo Fighters tomorrow night, so that will be some welcome excitement. After that, I have no idea.

Looking forward to the last weekend of the month. November 1st is our 2nd wedding anniversary and Ethan booked us a weekend at Kate Pierson's Lazy Meadow Motel up in the Catskills. We have room no. 7--the duplex! I'm so jazzed. I put him in charge of planning something for our anniversary and he came up with the idea all on his own (or so he says, so keep it to yourself if you had any input!!)! Hopefully we'll have nice weather by then.

No other news right now apart from my ever-decreasing girth! Ethan and I went back on Weight Watchers 3 weeks ago and we've both lost about 7 lbs. so far. Go us! We're doing the "Core" plan, which is sort of like South Beach, but not as strict and it's pretty easy to stick to so far. I had issues with the "Points" plan. It was too hard to keep track and I was always hungry. Wish us luck! My immediate short term goal is to get down to the weight I was before I got pregnant the first time before I get pregnant again. That's another 16 lbs. Eek. I have no idea how I put on so much weight in 2 years. Actually, I know exactly how I did it, but it's still quite shocking.

Off to spend a little QT with the man before beddy-bye.

Talk to ya later...
V

Try to Catch the Deluge in a Paper Cup...

After weeks and weeks of a virtual drought (broken up by the odd five-minute downpour), it is now raining like a goddamn motherfucker in Jersey City. It started before I woke and continues now. It's supposed to rain for the next...decade, I think? Something like that.

Normally on a day like this I would hole up with a good book or some knitting and not budge, but today we had many errands to run. First Ethan had to walk the dogs to the groomer, then we both walked to the dentist. From there I walked to the salon to pay an ungodly amount of money for a hairdo which was ruined the second I left the shop. Then we hightailed it home to do a quick clean job on the apartment before a 7:30 dinner date at Madame Claude's (a fabulous, cozy French bistro right here in JC) with our friend Mary and her friend Beth.

Now we're finally settled in for the evening with our friends John and Dina to watch boxing on Pay Per View. If it's still raining like this tomorrow, I'm not setting one tender tootsie outdoors. Hopefully I won't have to.

I hope there's not too much more of this crap before the cold weather sets in.

Nothing exciting to report, guys. Just wanted to check in so you know I'm still kicking.

On the baby front, my doc wants me to take my prenatal with an additional 400 mcg of folic acid for three months before we re-open the baby factory. So, come Chrismannukah, we'll be quite busy. Wish us luck!

XO
V

Awright already!

You know, when I sarted this blog, I was sure Ethan and I were going to be the only two people on the planet who read it, but I've recently received admonitions to update, so here goes. Don't say I never gave you anything.

I don't really feel like discussing the miscarriage at this point. There's not a whole lot to say. It was disappointing, it sucked, and I'm getting right back on the horse (Ethan's nickname for obvious reasons) as soon as the doctor gives me the go ahead. I will mention, however, that quite a few women including coworkers and family have come forward to share similar stories which I found incredibly touching. Although it's horrid to think anyone else has ever had to go through what we've been through the last two years, it's still comforting to know we're not alone.

On to Katrina--Unfortunately, there's not a whole lot I can say about it because every single comment or insight I had in the first day or two is already cliche'--"Why are they calling them REFUGEES??? They're Americans!! Why can't we get these people food and water??? This is America--not some third world country!!," etc. At first I felt very unoriginal, but then I came to the realization that it was a GOOD thing that thousands of people around the country and world were as outraged as me and for the exact same reasons and at the exact same people.

The attrocious conditions are terrible enough, but the media accounts of situational cannibalism and rape and murder among the victims completely floored me. I don't remember hearing of this sort of behavior during the aftermaths of earlier hurricanes, as devastating as they were. Then again, I don't think the damage was quite as extensive as this.

I look at the map and I get it that the affected area is huge, but it didn't sink in just how vast it was until I read a quote from Our National Shame Bush that the disaster area is larger than Great Britain! That sort of brought it home for me.

This is where I make my obligatory plea for any readers to donate whatever they can to the hurricane relief fund of their choice--assuming you haven't already. Thanks. Had to get that out of the way.

On a lighter note, the Hughes sisters of Rockville, MD and Bristol, UK are in NYC visiting. I haven't seen either of them since the wedding. Very good to see them again. They're always a hoot. Congratulations to Sue on her recent engagement and acquisition of a first class rock! And safe and happy travels to Sara as she embarks on her upcoming round-the-world trip.

I wish I had other news to report, or something else to bitch about, but it's been rather quiet around here lately. I'm enjoying that.

Having folks over to dinner tonight, so I need to: a) put pants on, b) go grocery shopping, and c) clean--roughly in that order.

Blog atcha later,
Vick

Pee Pee Stick Says "No"

That's the fourth time in a row. I'm still not despondent, but a little disappointed. We tried extra hard this time, if you catch my drift.

I even rubbed this Jamaican fertility idol that one of my coworkers brought in for another woman who's ttc. According to the coworker, the idol belongs to her mother and her mother swears that every woman who touches it becomes pregnant shortly thereafter. My coworker had to bring it into the office wrapped in towels for fear she might come in contact with it--she has no plans of making babies for a while. Maybe it will work its charms in the next cycle or two.

I wouldn't have been so disappointed, but the morning of the test I was snoozing while Ethan showered and I dreamt that it was positive. I dreamt that I took the test in the restroom of the Lebanon Valley Mall (Ethan and I were there with my folks this past weekend). I was so happy that I burst out of the ladies room and skipped the whole length of the mall waving my pee stick (with TWO pink lines, mind you) over my head and shouting to everyone within earshot that I was pregnant.

I was sure the dream was precognitive, but I soon learned otherwise. :( I know from being pregnant with Sam that when it's positive, that second line begins to appear either at the same time as the first or very shortly thereafter. After 1 1/2 minutes if there's only one dark pink line I've already tossed the stick in the trashcan. I always dig it out again after the 3 minute mark just to be absolutely sure, but I haven't been proven wrong yet.

I had been taking a daily multivitamin with a folic acid supplement for the first few months. I switched to prenatals from GNC, but they're 2 pills a day as well and I think they might make me nauseous when not taken with food. I'm going to schedule a preconception exam with my OB/GYN so I can get a prescription for the prenatals I was on before. I didn't have a problem with them, and they're only one pill a day. It's time to visit the girly doc for other reasons as well, so it's a good idea all around.

I'm also starting to worry that my job stress is affecting my fertility as well. The good news is that I shouldn't be nearly as busy by the end of this month, so hopefully that will no longer be an issue.

As disappointing as it is to find out I'm not pregnant for the 4th cycle in a row, the only thing to do is to get right back on the horse--or the nearest Jewish male. If you're reading this, Kayly, my next window starts just in time for your visit for the Mermaid Parade! I know you're jazzed about that!! We'll be extra quiet. Promise! :)

Nighty night. Must spend some QT with the cutie.

V

Stuff That Happened

Good Morning, Kids. It's 3:00 am in Jersey City. Normally I would be sound asleep, but we just got home a little while ago from the wedding of our friends Rachel and Ed Derbes and we're still a little wired.

It was a beautiful, fancy-shmancy shindig at the Yale Club in Manhattan. Rachel looked gorgeous as did her mother. Ed and Rachel's father were handsome devils in their tuxes. We had a wonderful time.

The handsomest devil of all, of course, was none other than Mr. E, himself. That boy wears the hell out of a tux, let me tell you. I wore an emerald green satin halter dress with a matching green vintage-ish brooch. I must say I looked none too shabby myself. I got quite a few compliments on the dress. If only they knew I'd bought it at the mall at the slutty-clothes-for-fat-chix store! HA! It's not slutty, however. Very tasteful 40s glam-ish. Slightly vampish perhaps, but definitely not whorish :).

One cute little hippy girl told me she liked it because it reminded her of something Bjork once wore and she LOVES Bjork. I had mental flashes of the swan dress, but took it as a compliment nonetheless.

Thursday night we went to see Mike Doughty at Bowery Ballroom. Sold out show. Just him and his keyboardist. Fucking awesome. He signed copies of his new CD--Haughty Melodic-- after the show. When I got up to him all I could say was "Hi." He said "Hi!" really enthusiastically like he was waiting for me to engage him in conversation, but I was muted by my admiration for him. I completely geeked out. It was awkward. Ethan stepped in to save the day and exchanged a few words with him. I am indebted. Next show I'll bring my copy of Slanky (his book of poems) along with me so he can sign it and I'll force myself to say something to him.

To be fair, I was next in line to this chick he obviously knew who had him sign her boobs. How do you follow that? We found out on his blog the next day that this was the chick to whom he'd lost the big V some 18 years ago. Jesus..if I'd known THAT I wouldn't have even managed to say hi! Still, I felt like a huge dork, but at least I have a signed copy of the album which is wonderful. "Unsingable Name" is really one of the most beautiful songs I've heard in a very long time. It's been stuck in my head all day. And "Busting Up A Starbucks" just solidly rocks.

If you're not familiar with Mike, check out his website www.superspecialquestions.com. His blog is well worth reading and you can listen to music from his two previous solo efforts and fall in love with him as hard as I did.

Next Thursday we're going to see Weezer. I still don't have the new album, but I'm totally jazzed to see them. I've never seen them live. They'd better rock my ass HARD and not disappoint. Rivers Cuomo is a Geek Rock GOD! He'd better live up to my expectations. Then again, girls, when has any man every lived up to our expectations really? What's that? Nevery, you say? Fuckin' A.

I should really watch my potty mouth. I could be someone's mommy right now, for all I know. We'll find out on the 12th. Wish us luck! I've noticed that ever since I was pregnant the first time, Ethan is more sensitive to my potty mouth. He never seemed to mind it before I was the mother of his child. Now he chides me and says it's "unladylike." I never claimed to be a lady. I'm more of a dame. Or maybe a moll, but not a lady.

I'm off to fall asleep with my head in Ethan's lap while he watches grown men pummel each other. Heaven!

V

Fuck Spring

I used to love spring. I tend to favor the milder seasons. I dig all the spring cliches: birds, flowers, sunshine. I live for that first day it's warm enough to wear flip flops or eat outdoors or sit in Washington Square Park and watch the freaks emerge half naked from wherever it is they hibernate all winter long.

This spring, however, has been miserable. Between the rain and pollen count, I've had a sinus headache for nigh on 6 weeks. There have only been a handful of genuinely nice days so far and they're invariably weekdays. I recall one or two nice Sundays (this last was one), but the weekends have been largely overcast and damp.

I'm convinced I have Seasonal Affective Disorder, so I look forward to spring as a time of renewed energy and increased serotonin levels. I got so robbed, man. Fuck spring, and fuck mother nature.

Unless, of course, this is all part of her plan to get me knocked up. The boy and I weren't too diligent the last two cycles, only taking advantage of about 3 days out of the six day window both times. All the lackluster weather this cycle has given us reason to stay indoors and focus on the task at hand. And we've been focusing daily, lemme tell ya. Hopefully this will be the month. I won't be crushed if it isn't--only 25% of couples conceive in the first 3 months.

As Ethan mentioned on his blog, this past Saturday was Sam's yahrzeit. He passed away April 12th last year or the 21st of Nissan on the Hebrew calendar--a fact that makes trying to conceive this cycle that much more bittersweet for all the obvious reasons. Suffice it to say, I hope he knows we love him, we're not trying to replace him, and it's his fault we want so damn much to be parents again.

On that note, I'll sign off. I'll check back in after the next pee-stick test, at the very least.

V

Pressure

So, we are on the final day of what is supposedly my "fertile window" for this cycle. (I know I promised not to get too specific about personal matters, but humor me for the sake of humor, kids.) In the past six days Ethan has been out of the country (read: Not putting out the baby juice) THREE of those days. We've "attempted to create life," to put it very nicely, exactly three times in those 6 days and yet last night he claimed he was already feeling pressure to perform. This from the man who, when we're not attempting to procreate, claims we'd engage in that particular activity daily if it were up to him. Typical male bullshit!!

I couldn't believe my ears. I mean, CHRIST, it's not like I'm asking for the moon here. Just sex every other day for a six day period to make sure there's a constant supply of viable sperm in the ol' uterus. In the end, faithful readers, he cowboyed up and did his husbandly duty, so no harm no foul. Big up, Ethan! Go on with your virile self! And I didn't have to ask, beg or give him a roofie--he actually initiated. What was all the hubbub about?

Anyhoo, March 19th is official "pee stick" day. We'll see if we were successful in our endeavors on that date. Off to spend some QT with my stud mule.

Nighty Night,
V

Just a small observation...

Have you seen the recent Budweiser ads where they show the original 1936 can design they're bringing back for a limited time? I was mortified. That design couldn't look more Nazi-esque if they put a smiling Hitler and an emaciated Jew on the can. They should just show stock footage of Hitler at the '36 Olympics and superimpose a Bud in his hand when he gives the old "Sieg Heil."

Stay tuned for the 3 crummy pics I managed to get of The Gates this past Saturday before I DROPPED MY GODDAMN DIGITAL CAMERA AND BROKE THE SHIT OUT OF IT. I'm such a fucking loser...

Vickster

Mommy & Daddy Dance

As usual, my friends, not a hell of a lot has happened in the Sincoff universe in the past 6 weeks or so. Only two highlights to mention, and only one of them significant.

On Saturday, February 12th, Mr. E and I went for a couples massage at the lovely Oasis on Park Day Spa in Manhattan. It was a two hour indulgence with the first hour being instructional and the second a straight-up massage. Ethan has finally learned how to rub my shoulders without making me scream in agony. $300 well spent, I'd say.

That following Thursday we met with our genetic counselor and learned that it's very unlikely that any future children will have the same health problems Sam had. We were planning on trying again this year, but after that good news we're anxious to start right away.

I immediately went to babycenter.com and used their ovulation calculator to figure out my "fertile days" for the rest of the calendar year. Needless to say, we won't be available for socializing from March 5th thru the 10th. And, in the event we don't knock one out of the park on our first at bat, we also won't be receiving visitors from April 2nd thru the 7th.

I'm interested to see how long it takes us to get pregnant when we're trying. Considering the circumstances of the last time, it should be pretty fast. Ethan's got that super-tenacious Jew sperm--those kids didn't survive almost 6,000 years of oppression, genocide, natural AND deity-wrought disasters by chance, ya know. It's somethin' in the genes, baby.

Readers should be forewarned that this will most likely be, from here on out, a conception/pregnancy blog. I will not go into disgustingly graphic details, however. Have no fear of that. No detailed discussions of the consistency of my vaginal mucus or how many times the hubby and I copulated or in what positions. I'm sure my postings will be more psychological and emotional in nature.

So, in my first official pre-conception post let me just say that I'm very excited about the next few months. I'm looking forward to (mush alert, kids) the experience of making love to another person with the intention of creating a baby. Never done that one! I'm looking forward to the moment when we finally see those two pink lines on the pee-pee stick and everything in between. I'm even looking forward to the emotional support and coddling I'll get from Ethan in the event the test is negative and we have to do it all over again the next month.

We'll see how this goes. I'm not 100% sure how comfortable I am putting such personal stuff out there, but I'll give it my best shot. And it's not like there are more than, say, TWO of you who ever read this anyway, and you'd be the two people I'd be telling all this to regardless.

I couldn't sign off without a reference to the pets, so humor me one short Fred story, because this is too darling not to share. I had a miserable stomach virus from this past Saturday thru Tuesday. Monday night I was lying on the couch watching TV, my stomach feeling like it had been stomped by an elephant. Just then Fred jumps up on the couch with his toy monkey in his mouth, places it on my pillow and then curls up and goes to sleep by my knees. I assumed he wanted to play, but he showed no interest. I really think he gave me Monkey to make me feel better. What else could one possibly infer? Pets are far more intuitive than people give them credit for. Freddie Sincoff is the handsomest dog and sweetest boy in the whole wide world--and he loves his mama :).

V