Caylee Anthony Update

It's been quite some time since I blogged on this subject. There simply wasn't much news about the case, and I was busy preparing for the birth of our son.

Finally, on December 11th, the announcement came that the remains of a small child had been found in close proximity to the Anthony home. This announcement didn't jar me. I totally expected it and knew it was merely a matter of time. I knew it was Caylee--who else would it be?--and waited patiently for the DNA evidence to confirm what everyone already knew.
However, when Dr. G finally made the announcement this past Friday, I burst into tears; partly because it looked like Dr. G was choking back tears herself, partly because my new mommy hormones were still settling, but mostly out of sadness for a beautiful little girl who didn't deserve whatever horrible things happened to her to cause her death. Somehow the finding of her remains rendered her far more real to me than the phantom missing girl in the photos and video clips I'd been seeing for months.

I've only been a mommy a little more than 2 weeks now, but I can't possibly comprehend how anyone could do such a thing to her own child. I know there are those of you who still may doubt whether Casey is responsible or whether Caylee's death was an accident or murder, but give me a break, please. She was buried in a location her mother used as a fucking pet cemetery and, from the sound of things, wasn't even buried with the same care as the pets had been. Bottom line: the little girl died in such a way that her mother felt compelled to cover it up and dispose of her body. This boils down to gross neglect at the very least, and murder at the very worst. The fact that the grandparents have requested immunity (still waiting to hear whether this has been granted) implies some manner of wrongdoing on their parts--even if only obstruction of justice.

I can only hope that everyone involved in Caylee's death and the ensuing cover-up are held accountable for their deeds and sentenced accordingly. In a snippet from one of Casey Anthony's prison phone calls she says that her "gut feeling" is that Caylee is "OK and close to home." At least that last part was truthful.

Post-Partum Post

Just a quick update before Tobe and Daddy wake up.

The Man, The Myth, The Legend, Tobin Samuel Sincoff, has arrived! He was born at 4:47 pm on Thursday, December 4, 2008 weighing in at 6 lb 5 oz and measuring 18 1/2 inches. He is fantastically beautiful and healthy.

Ethan and I are exhausted, but overjoyed. My boys are napping on the couch as I type this (Tobe's in the Baby Hawk carrier strapped to Ethan's chest). I'm taking advantage of this break in the action for some "me time"--checking email and posting to the ol' blog.

The surgery went off w/o a hitch. I'm still a little sore, so utilizing my Percoset Rx, but feel great in general.

BFF Kayly is here to help (bless her heart). She made us a wonderful dinner tonight and saw me through my first sleep dep/hormonal imbalance shitfit. I felt soooooooooooooooo much better afterward.

I'm going to wake the little man up for pre-bed feeding in the hopes that he'll give Ethan and I at least 3 good hours of uninterrupted sleep. Keep your fingers crossed for us!

I'll leave you with a picture of Tobin emerging in all his purple, screaming glory and my favorite picture of our very first meeting. I'll post more pics when I'm well-rested enough that I remember to pull my underwear down before peeing. A crisis was narrowly averted, but it took me a sec to figure out why the seat wasn't cold.

Ooey gooey, fresh and jewy!!

So you're the little punk that's been pulverizing my innards for months...

OH! And congratulations to my friends Till and Sophie who both celebrated the births of beautiful baby girls on December 6th and 9th respectively. Discussions of arranged marriages and dowries are already in progress...

And Away We Go...

Not just yet. We've got about 90 mins until we head off.

Somehow I managed to get a good night's sleep, which was wonderful. Now I'm just hungry and dying for a cup of coffee. Ethan's running out to pick up some last minute things (like cat food, so we don't come home to 2 fur-covered skeletons), but I'm ready to go. Just a few more things to throw in the suitcase.

For my "going in" outfit, I've selected a black Maternity T and stretchy black crop pants. The pregnant ninja effect will be offset by my sock monkey slippers. Fuck shoes. Shoes are for bitches.

I was debating makeup since Ethan will be taking pictures in the OR, but I'll probably just save it for visitors from Friday on. I need to embrace the fact that it's perfectly acceptable for me to look exhausted and haggard today.

At this exact moment, I feel surprisingly calm. I've been through the procedure before, so I'm not in the least anxious about that. I'm trying to go into this thing with a confident, semi-cocky "of course everything's going to be fine!" attitude for a change. So far I've managed to muster a very zen, letting-go "nothing I can do from this point on..." attitude instead. It'll do in a pinch.

Boyfriend of the Week

I've decided to add a new weekly feature to the blog dedicated to my "Boyfriend of the Week." It drives Ethan nuts whenever I suggest, no matter how subtly, that I might find a particular celeb or artist attractive, yet it's perfectly fine for him to do the same--even going so far as making borderline inappropriate comments about the barely legal girls on Degrassi: Next Generation.

The honor of being my first ever BOTW goes to the insanely talented, eternally cool, undeniably sexy Mr. Elvis Costello. His new series, Spectacle, debuts on the Sundance Channel tonight at 9:00 pm. I can't wait to see it. He's bound to be a fantastic interviewer. He's also being nominated for his hysterically funny performance in Stephen Colbert's Christmas special.

Swoon...

Proud papa. He can rub my bump any day. Oops, did I type that out loud?
Accidents will happen...

Congratulations Elvis--on the new show and on being my inaugural Boyfriend of the Week!

One More Day

We got up far too early this morning to go to the Pathology lab at the hospital to have my pre-surgery blood tests. It took no time at all. We could've slept in another 30 to 45 mins :(.

We came home and put the car seat in the Corolla w/o killing each other. I'm chronically cranky since yesterday and poor Ethan is bearing the brunt of it. I have to keep assuring him that it's not personal, I'm just really, really uncomfortable. The seat had been lovingly installed in our other car by my good friend Bilynda, but said car decided to crap out last week.

Our fridge crapped out the day before Thanksgiving, so we're sitting here now waiting for the new one to be delivered. We were given a delivery window of 10:45 am to 12:45 pm. It's 12:33 pm now. WTF? I have my final OB appt at 3pm today. MFer had better be here by 2pm. I'm far too cranky to refrain from physical violence. I have this vision of Ethan holding me back while I yank out my earrings and scream and spit in the terrified Sears delivery guy's face.

If he's any later than 2pm, I'll need to drive myself to the appointment so Ethan can stay behind. I'm not thrilled about that. My stomach is now so tight against the wheel that Tobin could steer if he were so inclined.

We still have a few errands to run, but I'm looking forward to relaxing on our last night as a twosome. I'm not supposed to eat after midnight despite my surgery only being scheduled for 4pm tomorrow, so I'll be enjoying a sizable "last meal" tonight. Haven't decided what it will be, but it will be large and carb-laden and delicious, dammit.

Off to shower and then rest before my doc appointment. Ethan can wrangle the delivery guy. BTW, it's now 12:51 pm and no word from Sears. Nice. I just called and they're running behind. Looks like I'll be driving myself after all. If my OB checks my chooch and decides to admit me STAT, Ethan will have to take a cab to the doc's office to pick up both myself and the car. FUN!
I'll just keep my fingers and legs crossed that that doesn't happen...

Gravid

That's how I feel today--like a pregnant sea turtle. The ultrasound has it all wrong. There's no baby in there, just hundreds of wet, leathery eggs. I'm fighting the urge to drive down to Sandy Hook right now and dig a nice, big egg cavity in the sand with my hind flippers.

OK, so I'm being melodramatic again...It's definitely a baby. We saw him again today. The ultrasound technician tried her darnedest to get us some good face pictures, but he had his dukes up as usual. It's even tighter in there now than last week, so the face is even smushier.

In this first picture, he just looks like a face in the clouds.

In this next one, he looks exactly like Daddy when he's sitting on the couch, stuffing his face with pretzels and watching the Giants. That's his hand up by his yap.

I was ready to declare him the indisputable spitting image of his Dad until the tech took this next picture. She had been shaking him with the wand for a good minute or two trying to get him to put his hands down, but he flat out refused to do so. Instead, he favored us with this dead on impersonation of Mom's pissed off face. Note the furrowed brow and pouty bottom lip.

Man, is this kid gonna be trouble...

Picture of us at reunion...

Ethan only found this on another classmate's Facebook page after I had gone to bed for the night. Check the gratuitous preggo cleavage. I swear I had no idea...

I'm Still Standin'

It's 1:25 am Sunday, November 30, 2008 and still no signs of imminent labor. Ethan and I just got back from his TWENTIETH HIGH SCHOOL REUNION (sorry, had to do that one more time ;-)). We had a great time and I was thrilled to have one final social outing before the baby emerges. There were two nurses in attendance--one even a Labor and Delivery nurse--so I was covered in the event of an early delivery.

I felt remarkably well today after feeling totally miserable yesterday--so well that I managed to hang in until the bitter end cuz I'm hardcore like that. All the women with children at the reunion assured me that this probably means I'll be going into labor over the next 48 hours. They all had similar stories to back this up. I'll keep you posted.

Now that I'm home and in my flannel jammies, however, I'm totally pooped. I'll be taking it nice and easy tomorrow. But before I log off to enjoy some much needed rest, allow me to share 2 totally bitchin' pics of Ethan from his high school days.

It's not as obvious in these pics, but from several I've seen while visiting his dad in Florida, Ethan was basically Duckie in high school . I always dreamed of marrying Duckie someday (or Lloyd Dobler--whichever one I found first). I never did understand why Andie picked Blaine. Stupid bitch...And I'm glad I found my Duckie first. Lloyd's cool and all, but Duckie has way more panache.

The Original Duckie



My Duckie looking 12 at most

Cross Country Sexpot

Turkey Day 2008

Tobin did his mommy a solid by staying put. I hope he's enjoying his first Thanksgiving dinner and turkey coma as much as I did just a few hours ago. Dinner was fantastic. Was it as good as mine? Of course not, but darn close--and far less work.

We had a great time talking about how our families celebrated Thanksgiving when we were kids and how we see ourselves celebrating once Tobe's old enough to join us at the table. This brought up another topic (and reminded me once again of how much I love my husband). Ethan made it very clear that family dinners at the actual dinner table were very important in his house (as they were in mine) and that it's a tradition he'd like to continue. I reassured him that as soon as Tobe starts solids, every dinner will be at the table because I really don't want him launching food all over the living room furniture and carpet.

I had promised Tobe he could make his way out anytime after I shoveled the last forkful of dessert into my mouth, but Dad wants him to chill out until Sunday so we can attend his TWENTIETH HIGH SCHOOL REUNION this Saturday night. I had to put that in all caps just to emphasize how old Ethan is. TWENTY YEARS!!!!! Luckily it's low key, so I don't have to get all gussied up. I really don't know how I'd go about gussying the bump at this point, anyway. Vinyl siding? Maybe I could get Christo to wrap it up like the Reichstag. My only request would be that he use the same pretty saffron color he did for the Gates project.

No signs of imminent labor to report. Saw the OB Wednesday and the ol' cervix is still closed, though very thin and soft. The countdown commences. In just under 7 days (or less), we shall be 3. Sur-fucking-real.

I hope everyone had a delicious, relaxing Thanksgiving. I'll try to post daily updates until D-day, but if I disappear for a few days without a trace, I'm sure you can figure out where I am and what I'm doing.

Finally Some Face Pics!

OK, so they're only partial, but still ADORABLE as far as Daddy and I are concerned.

Went to the perinatologist today for my weekly ultrasound. Tobe is A-OK. Good heart rate, doing his breathing exercises/hiccups, and weighing in at 6 lbs 6 oz. I figured he'd be up around 7 lbs already (big babies run in the family), but he's well within normal range. With gestational diabetes pregnancies, they worry about the baby being too big. Clearly not a problem here.

He's got his arm and/or hands mashed into his face in the pics below (I think you can make out fingers in the second). However, you can pick out his forehead, nose, left cheek, left eye and upper lip.

Have you ever seen such smushy-faced perfection??

We are so ridiculously ready for this kid. Ethan even practiced diapering and swaddling my teddy bear last night. He did a fantastic job. Tonight he even read a few chapters of one of my 1,000 parenting books, bless him.

I just might let him near the baby after all...

Speaking of babies, here's my furry son, Fred, with the "baby" I made him.
When he's not snuggling it, he's biting its throat and shaking it violently.
I've stopped calling it "Baby" for obvious reasons...

The Maids are coming again tomorrow. Will be fab to have a clean house for Turkey Day. The place is actually in pretty decent shape since the last time they were here 2 weeks ago. I hope they appreciate it.

The Oldsmobile is being cranky. The battery is clearly not dead and yet the engine won't turn over. Therefore Ethan has to take the Toyota to work tomorrow while I call the mechanic to tow it and have a look. Hopefully it's something simple and not too expensive. If it's expensive, we'll probably just junk it.

This means I'm without a car tomorrow, so I get to hang around while other women clean my house. That's kind of awkward. At least they won't be here nearly as long as last time.

Looking forward to a relaxing 4-day holiday weekend with my sweetie.

Full

As I mentioned, I'm 37 weeks today. I'm full term and full o' baby. Note the "Can you believe this shit?" expression I'm sporting. The bump cannot possibly get any larger than this without the skin on my stomach bursting down the center like the skin on a baked potato.

Just saying that made me want a baked potato right now. It's 2:19 am. That's ridiculous. I am never not hungry, but even I realize that that's a bit much--unlike my 1st trimester when I'd be passed out by 10:00 pm and waking up just about now to cook myself some eggs and toast. Now I want eggs and toast. No more food references.

Behold my awe-inspiring girth!!! I swear my arms weren't that fat yesterday. That had better be all milk-making fat, dammit.

First Nursery Pics!

Andy and Ethan did such a great job putting the crib together that I couldn't wait to wash the bedding to take pics. I'll just strip it all off tomorrow and have Ethan drop it off at the laundromat (no way the comforter and bumper will fit in our washer, so they may as well wash the lot).

It's really coming together. Still a good amount of crap to clear out, but hopefully we'll have that all gone by the time Mr. T enters his wild kingdom for the first time.

Andy, Aidan and Ethan in front of the finished masterpiece.
Aidan supervised.

My favorite piece of artwork. I still want to find a sign that says
"Welcome To The Jungle" for the door, but haven't managed yet.

Some of the other artwork. There are 2 more pieces like this
placed around the room. They match the crib bedding.

Window valance, rocking chair, and a glimpse of the crap to be cleared out.

And VOILA!!! The crib! There's an area rug to match the accent rug under the crib. The pic doesn't do it justice. It's super soft and shaggy. Sometimes I pop into the nursery just to dig my toes into it.

I'm Officially Over Being Pregnant Now (Slightly Graphic)

I will be 37 weeks on Friday. For the last 2 days I've noticed a marked increase in Braxton Hicks contractions. Today my OB said that my cervix is still closed, but softening up. Every step I take, it feels like the baby is going to fall out. Every time I go to the bathroom, I check the toilet for my mucus plug.

Tobe spends his entire day napping between bouts of pummeling my cervix with both fists. I saw him on the ultrasound Monday. Not once did he move his hands from in front of his face. He looked every bit the boxer he is. "Keep those hands up!"

He really hates the Braxton Hicks contractions. As if it's not cramped enough in there already, now he's being squeezed several times a day. He follows each BH with a brutal round of punching, kicking and stretching. He loves to brace his feet against the back of my uterus and shove his bony butt out as far as he can. I smack it (gently of course) when he does that.

I'm soooo very ready for him to come out. I look forward to enjoying his presence in prescription painkiller-induced bliss.

The nursery is coming together. Got the carpets down, the curtains and some decorations up and most of the extraneous crap cleared out. Our friends Abi and Andy are coming over Friday night to help put the crib together. I believe Andy, in addition to being a theater prof, is also a master carpenter, if I'm not mistaken. When I took one look at the crib instructions, I knew immediately that Ethan and I would probably kill each other if we tried to do it ourselves.

I figure he and Andy will work together much better and with far less frustration than he and I would. Not that he and I aren't a great team. It's just that two people trying to do something neither is good at is a recipe for cursing and/or tears--especially when one is exhausted and cranky from being 9 mos preggo and cries at the drop of a hat.

Once the crib is up and I've put the mattress and bedding in, I'll snap some pics to post here. The bedding, decorations and carpet go fantastically with the pale yellow walls. It looks very cheery and sunny.

The walls were that color when we moved in, so we didn't even have to paint. However, the walls are plaster, so it makes hanging pictures and such difficult. Luckily, there were already 5 nails in the wall perfectly placed for 5 of the decorations that required hanging. The rest can go up with fun-tac.

I'm off to order groceries online now. I'm also over waddling up and down the aisles until this kid comes out.

Crap on a stick!

It is exactly 3 weeks (less 6 hours and 45 mins) until Tobin's scheduled appearance. Great googly moogly. I'm terrified. Not of the surgery, I've had that before. Not of him finally being here and the awesome responsibility that entails, I've been ready for that for years, and I will treasure every sleep-deprived, hair-tearing, sore-boob moment of it.

I'm terrified of the those first few minutes between them pulling him out and telling me he's absolutely fine once they've suctioned all the goop out of him and given him his APGARs. I really need him to be OK from the get go. I know c-section babies sometimes need a little breathing assistance at the start, but I want him to come out wailing and red-faced and furious and I want them to wrap him up like a little sausage and hand him to his daddy so I can dote on him for a few minutes before he gets whisked off to the nursery and I get wheeled to recovery. I'm not sure if I can handle things going any other way, and I hope and pray it's a non-issue.

Then, when they bring him to me to nurse for the first time, and I've accepted the fact that he really is here and really is OK, I'll quietly scold him for the 9 months of worry and panic he put me through, not to mention the daily beatings.

Tuesday Blather

Just a quick post tonight...

Saw my regular OB today. She says everything's still locked up, but the baby is "way down there." This was evidenced by the fact that she was feeling the top of his head through my cervix rather than just inside my pelvic bone like last time. TMI, I know. I just wanted to put that out there since it's the full moon tomorrow.

I think I'll not only make it through that, but perhaps through Thanksgiving as well. I picked up Whole Foods' holiday menu today. Fantastic pre-cooked full course turkey dinner for less money than it would take me to buy all the separate ingredients and I don't have to cook it--just heat it in the oven. AMAZING. If my folks decide to come up, I'll order the meal for 8 so we'll have plenty of leftovers. If they don't, and it's just Ethan and I, I might order the dinner for 2 or still order the dinner for 8 so we don't have to cook for a whole week.

Don't get me wrong, I LOVE Thanksgiving and cooking Thanksgiving dinner. I just can't manage it this year for obvious reasons. I fear that the Whole Foods version will be so delicious that I will be tempted never to cook my yearly feast again.

I'm excited about our first holiday season as a family. Trying to keep myself from going overboard for Hanukkah. I want to decorate like crazy and take lots of pictures, but Tobe'll only be 2-3 weeks old and will most likely sleep through the whole thing. Also, I'll still be recovering from surgery. :( Next year, maybe.

Speaking of Hanukkah, Isaac Mizrahi has made whole line of Hanukkah-related doggie accessories. I bought Lulu and Fred a squeaky menorah and dreidel. They were only $4.99 ea. They love them. $10 well spent!

Random Tidbits

The Maids came and cleaned the house from top to bottom today. AWESOME! There must have been 2 years worth of dust trapped in various pockets in the house. I didn't do a white glove test, but they passed the white sock test. I've been walking around in stocking feet all day and the soles are still pristine.

Now we just have a good amount of clutter to purge. You should see what we've thrown out and freecycled already with help from our friend, Susannah. BIG Thanks, Suzie Q!!!! I have 2 weeks to work at that little by little until the cleaning crew comes again. I'm not kidding myself that we're going to get through all 4 closets in that time. I see that as an ongoing project for the next year. I just want to get the nursery together and clear up the remaining clutter in the nursery, bedroom and living room.

I must be honest, I felt slightly guilty about paying people to clean my house while I sat at Starbucks and addressed holiday cards. It's a treat for now while I'm too preggo or busy with baby to do it myself, but it is an added expense when we're trying to eliminate expenses.

Hopefully once the baby's here and settled in I can maintain things myself and just hire someone once or twice a year to do a giant spring cleaning so I don't have to move furniture and scrub baseboards, etc. As I've always said of myself, "For a socialist, I sure have a shitty work ethic."

On the other hand, it did feel kinda cool to pretend I was a rich corporate wife who runs errands and shops while other people do her less savory tasks. Nice to get a glimpse of how the other half lives once in a blue moon. It was a big job today, so I made sure to tip the crew double the suggested amount.

Lulu supervised them in my absence. She's an excellent foreman, hence her nickname "The Foreman." She spent the last few months watching construction crews and landscaping crews out the bay window all day long making sure they were working hard and not lallygagging.

Fred went around sniffing everything after the ladies left. He appeared confused as if to say, "This does not smell like my house." To his credit, I do not believe he's peed on anything to rectify that just yet.

So, things are coming together. My house is actually clean enough that people could drop in unannounced, which is usually my biggest fear. We cleared out a lot of junk in the nursery and put down the area rug. Just need to put the crib together, hang the curtains and decorations.

In politics, Keith Olbermann gave a fantastically touching special comment last night regarding the anti-gay marriage bills which passed in several states last week. You can check it out here. Perfect example of why this man is on my "list." That, and his impeccable grooming. Guys should always wear ties. No exceptions.

Speaking of my "list," can I just say that "Renegade" is the SEXIEST Secret Service nickname of ALL TIME???

Hidden Messages in my Stretch Marks

I may take pictures of them for posterity, but they certainly won't be posted here.

While lying on my left side tonight, I noticed a cluster of several stretch marks on the right side of my belly that look like either cave paintings or hieroglyphs. There's one that looks like an asp, one that resembles a crudely drawn giraffe, another that could be a pitchfork or stalk of corn or wheat and--the masterpiece--one that looks like either Thoth, the Egyptian god of writing and knowledge or The Dead Man from the Lascaux cave drawings. The actual stretch mark is limbless, but the head is very pointy and bird-like as on both gentleman pictured below.

Thoth: Why didn't I think of that when we were
trying to come up with "T" names?

Dead Man with bird on stick. Those are the horns of a deadly
bison in the upper right corner. It's hard out here for a caveman...

Oh Sweet Decadence!!!

I finally, after much consideration, broke down and hired a cleaning service to come next week and give the apartment a thorough spring cleaning to be followed by bi-weekly visits as long as I feel I need the help (I imagine for the first 3 mos the baby's home).

It is so not cheap, but so, soooooooooo worth it. I hired "The Maids" for now, but will ask around for recommendations for independent contractors who might be cheaper. We'll see how they do. They have super-fancy Ghost Buster looking equipment. They might be so thorough that I keep them on, but downgrade to once a month.

I spent hours yesterday surfing the net looking for pretty, sparkly "push presents" even though I won't be pushing. Although I'd love a bauble, not having to lift a finger to clean my house for at least 3 mos was too good to pass up.

Now I just have to bust my ass over the next 2 days to get the apartment decent enough that I'm not humiliated when the crew shows up. Or just hand them a key and run out of the apartment before they see what lies in wait for them. After that, all I should have to worry about are dishes and laundry. BLISS!!!!!

35 Week Belly Pic

I can't believe the difference between this pic and the 32 week pic.

First of all, it not only features no makeup, but wet hair as well. HOT!!

Secondly, do you see the size of that thing??? How am I able to remain upright? How has he not dropped to the floor with a wet plop yet? I would think the laws of physics would demand that I remain on bed rest for the duration. Or hanging upside down from the ankles.

I'm astonished that the female body was meant to be this malleable. If this kid gets any bigger, I fully expect him to emerge clutching a graduate diploma in one hand and a briefcase in the other.

And let me hasten to add that that's all baby, uterus, fluid and other pregnancy-related gunk! I'm still weighing in at 5 lbs under the weight I was at my first OB visit.

Oh--I misspoke in an earlier post regarding the full moon on 11/13. I'll be 36 weeks, not 37. I might just eke through it OK!

Little Bit o' Nesting

I say "little bit," but I'm drenched in sweat and about to hop in the shower after a tall glass of ice water.

Hopefully Ethan won't check the blog before leaving work, since this is supposed to be a surprise for him. The biggest part of the surprise is that I actually felt up to doing something today! I really think the majority of my malaise and lethargy was election-related. Now I'm rarin' to go!

I want to get a certain amount done before our friend Susannah comes over Saturday to help in the nursery. Fear not, Susannah, I don't plan on working you to death. Just want some help going through all the detritus in there to see what can be thrown out or freecycled. I won't make you scrub the baseboards or single handedly assemble the crib or anything.

So I started by getting one of the many boxes containing brand new baby stuff out of the nursery--the adorable pack n' play/bassinet my parents sent us (thanks Mom & Dad!). I put it together complete with bassinet and toy bar, cleared out the corner of the bedroom where it will live and even swept and mopped that small section of the floor (Ethan can tidy the rest of the room :)).

We also bought a mesh tent to go over it to keep the cats out and I have that 2/3 assembled, but need Ethan's help to pop the last rod in place--the tension was too much for me. Need my strapping Russian Bear to finish the job.

I wheeled it into place and packed a basket full of nighttime essentials (diapers, wipes, burp cloths, receiving blankets, change of jammies, etc.). I think that's enough for today. The baby's agitated. Wants to know why it's so hot in there all of a sudden. Anyhoo, here are the pics. I even made the bed for the occasion and I NEVER do that!

Pregnancy Update

Just a few tidbits...

I'm now on 2 units of insulin at bedtime to control my fasting blood sugars in the morning. My post-meals are fine, but my fastings were creeping up the last week or so. No biggie, the doc reassured me.

As a precaution, I'll be going in to the perinatologist's weekly for baby monitoring and ultrasound just to make sure the GD isn't affecting his lung development, which appeared to be good and strong this past Monday. I could see his little belly and ribcage going in and out as he breathed amniotic fluid. It was adorable. The last thing the doc said before he left the exam room was "You're gonna be fine!" Bless his heart.

As mentioned on Ethan's blog, we went for a childbirth orientation and maternity ward tour last night. Very informative and nice to have a visual of exactly where we need to go come D-Day. It ended with a peek at the "just hatched" babies in the nursery (they spend some time there for checkups before rooming in with their moms). There were 3 in there who were just adorable and in different stages of contentment/irate anger.

The maternity nurse who led the presentation made a comment that the ward fills up on the full moon. I had never heard this before. I did some extensive online searching when I got home to see a) when the next full moon was (11/13--I'll be 37 weeks!!!) and b) how much truth there was to the whole thing.

The online consensus is that studies have proven that this is just a myth. However, if a maternity nurse at MY hospital who has worked there for over TWENTY YEARS tells me that, in her experience, the ward fills up on the full moon I'm gonna damn well believe her. I will be hyper vigilant come November 13th just in case. The next full moon will be December 12 (our original due date), but Tobe'll be out by then anyway.

Lastly, I rested on my back for a moment when I crawled into bed last night before flipping over and arranging my 1 thousand pillows. I looked down at my belly to see the weirdest freaking sight I have ever seen. It was sticking out 2-3 times further than normal and came to a hair-splitting point. It looked exactly like a torpedo. It didn't hurt and didn't feel like the baby was stretching or anything--he was just in a wacky position.

I SCREAMED for Ethan to come look before it went away (even though he was only 3 ft from the bed at the computer desk). I can't remember his exact reaction, but I believe it was something to the effect of, "JESUS!!!!! LOOK AT THAT!!!!!" And he was looking at it from the opposite side! I can only imagine what it looked like from that angle. Tobin must have had his legs fully extended, but I really couldn't feel specific body parts.

I've seen my stomach take on some funky shapes over the last few months, but that one took the cake. I really didn't think I could stretch that far.

The Origins of President Mack Daddy

In answer to Jeanne, I thought I would explain the origins of my nickname for President-Elect Obama.

The Urban Dictionary has many colorful definitions for the phrase mack daddy. The longer term, which I have shortened, is "long-legged mack daddy." This comes directly from a vitriolic, racist, anti-Obama sermon from the Rev. James David Manning . It's so over the top, so ridiculous, so hateful that it's--dare I say--hysterically funny. See for yourself. I can only hope that those folks standing silently behind him all secretly voted for Barack on Tuesday.

We first heard Rev. Manning say this earlier in the year. "Obama is a long-legged mack daddy!" became a catch-phrase for us that we would shout gleefully every time Obama delivered one of his inspiring speeches or won another state in the primaries (after Super Tuesday--we were Edwards supporters before he dropped out and we found out he'd been cheating on his terminally ill wife).

This is a very amusing video of various Rev. Manning anti-Obama sermons set to 50 Cent's "P.I.M.P" Enjoy!!

President Mack Daddy

What an amazing evening. I knew we could and that we would. I'm so glad I can now say, "Yes we did!"

To all the chumps who thought tonight would be close and that there would be no landslide, I say this:

Put THAT in your pipe and smoke it!!!!

Okay, you had to give me that one moment of unabashed gloating.

Tobin was kicking like crazy during McCain's concession speech. I'd like to think it was his little victory dance. I didn't cry nearly as much tonight as I thought I might. I only began leaking when Obama told the story of the 106 year old woman in Atlanta who had lived to see women and blacks finally obtain the right to vote, an end to segregation and the advent of civil rights and, sweetest of all, an African American man elected president. I just hope someone records her life story before it's too late. It must be a phenomenal one.

I feel rather guilty for not having to wait in line at the polling booth today, and I'd like to thank every single American who spent hours in line today and last week to vote in this momentous election. Your patience, dedication and perseverance paid off. You are the embodiment of "Real America." God bless you.

FINALLY!!!

The day I've been waiting for for 4 (say THAT 3 times fast) very, very long years.

I thought I'd have something profound or monumental to say. Nope. Just glad it's here. The Democrats are on the verge of a sweeping victory, and I will be watching with baited breath tonight as this--fingers crossed--unfolds.

I've never felt so strongly about a presidential candidate in my entire life. Not even my beloved Bubba. I was so happy to waddle into the booth this morning with Tobin in my belly. I can't believe he'll be almost 4 years old the next time we do this!

He'll be old enough to go into the booth with me, rather than in me. Unless he goes in with Daddy, of course, which he's welcome to do. I'm totally OK with that being a father/son ritual. He can even push the "Cast Vote" button at the end, assuming we still live in New Jersey and still have the same booths.

There is nothing in this world I want more right this second than for Tobin to be born with Barack Obama as president. With any luck, he'll be in office for the first 8 years of Tobe's life. I want my son's first impression of government to be a positive one; to know that his government and, most importantly, his president cares about the American people and wants each and every one of them to enjoy the same rights and privileges once reserved for the rich, white few.

This hit home the other night when I had my first Obama dream. Obama and I were walking along talking about the future. I don't remember much of the dialogue. I just remember looking him dead in the eye and telling him point blank that I did not want to live in an America where he wasn't president. I really don't want my son to live in such an America either.

Not that the family would pack up and move to another country if he doesn't win, I just think an Obama loss would be a terrible loss for America, and a crippling shame. Besides, the only 2 places I'd consider moving would be Canada or France. I find Canadians largely boring and the French kinda smarmy (no offense, eh, mes amis?). In the end, I'd still pick France, if only for the wine.

Lord willin' an' the creek don't rise, I'll be following this post with a victory post tomorrow or late this evening. Regardless the outcome, I'm thankful to Barack Obama for filling me to bursting with hope and optimism, and reigniting my flagging passion for the democratic process after the election debacles of 2000 and 2004.

Thank you, Barack, you long-legged mack daddy!!! I hope to be calling you President Mack Daddy before the day is through.

My Strategy to End The War in Iraq

I offer this strategy freely to our next Commander in Chief. It's quite simple.

Phase 1: Immediate withdrawal of all military troops currently stationed in Iraq.

Phase 2: Deployment of thousands of Girl Scout troops to Iraq to distribute delicious cookies door to door.

Phase 3: Deployment of thousands of Boy Scout troops to Iraq to work alongside the Girl Scouts and Iraqis to rebuild Iraq's infrastructure.


I call this "Operation Thin Mint."

1. The removal of military troops will assure the Iraqis that our intent is not, nor was it ever, to remain in their country as an occupying force for decades to come. The US is dedicated to helping Iraq become a prosperous democratic nation.
   
   
2. The door to door distribution of delectable cookies is a gesture of good faith to reinforce this support.
   
   
3. The employment of Iraqi civilians to rebuild their infrastructure with the aid and oversight of the BSA and GSA will create much needed jobs for those who have been unemployed since the war's inception.
   
   
4. As an added bonus to the American taxpayer, we will save billions of dollars that would otherwise be paid to government contractors by paying the scouts solely in merit badges.
   
   
5. Once the Iraqi infrastructure has been restored and citizens across the nation have dependable electricity and refrigeration, they will receive an additional shipment of Thin Mint cookies for immediate placement in their now-functional freezers. Nothing better than Thin Mints right out of the freezer. Mmmmmmm...
   

Day of Good News!!!

It has been an exceptional Hump Day!

First, I had my bi-weekly visit to the OB this morning. She confirmed that the baby has indeed dropped, but that my cervix is still locked up tighter than Fort Knox, so the little man might just make it to my tentatively scheduled delivery date:

DECEMBER 4, 2008! WHOOP! WHOOP!

I should receive confirmation of the date at my next visit. When I called Ethan to tell him the news, his initial response was "Oh, man." I think it became all to real to him once the date was (tentatively) fixed.

I celebrated by going to Target to buy slippers and travel-sized toiletries and all the other crap I need for my hospital bag.

And then, to top it off, the Phillies won the World Series in game 4. One of my earliest memories is of them winning the series in 1980. I never thought I'd have to wait 28 years to see them do it again.

With Mr. T's arrival and the Phillies winning the series, Obama winning the election next Tuesday would be the hat trick of all hat tricks, if I can mix my sports. Hopefully 2008 will be nothing but good things right through the end. I could use a few good months in a row!

Drop It Like It's Hot

I'm pretty sure Mr. T has dropped. I woke up the other day without the usual stiffness and pain in my hips. Also, my bump isn't as high. There's a definite space between boobs and belly now. Breathing is easier and heartburn is virtually a thing of the past.

On the downside, I have increased pelvic and bladder pressure. I am never not peeing. He was upside down at Wednesday's ultrasound. I believe he has "assumed the position." I wonder if that's what triggered my Braxton Hicks Saturday morning. From everything I've read, labor usually begins within 2 to 4 weeks of the baby dropping, which would fit in with what I've been saying all along about Tobe being a Turkey Baby.

That 2 to 4 week estimate is for first time moms. This is the second time I'll be giving birth, but our first son was breech and never really dropped. For second time moms, dropping often occurs closer to or just before labor, so who knows WHAT this means for me. I have an appointment with one of my regular OBs tomorrow and will grill her and force her to check my cervix.

I'd prefer he stay in until at least 36 weeks, but so long as he doesn't interrupt my rocking the vote next Tuesday, that's the most important thing. I'm kind of hoping he comes around the 36 to 37 week mark. I'm not sure how much longer I can keep him in. He's clamouring to come out, and we're very anxious to meet him.

My Latest Pregnancy Adventure

Nothing terribly gross or graphic to follow--just not anything interesting to anyone outside immediate friends, family and other preggos.

I woke up at 5:00 am on the dot this morning with painful contractions. I had had uncomfortable Braxton Hicks contractions periodically, but not quite this painful (Braxton Hicks sounds like the name of one of the pretty boys on Gossip Girl, btw). So I counted how long they were and how far apart. They were approx. 20 to 30 secs apart (EEK!), but then I noticed that they were decreasing in length--the first was about 30-45 secs long, the last only 5 secs. I had a total of 7 (I think--who knows how many I had before I woke up).

I paged my doctor who called me back quickly and reassured me that everything was probably fine and to just take it easy for the weekend unless it happens again. If it does happen again, I'll need to go to the ER for some tests to make sure it's not actually preterm labor. Not a HUGE issue if it were, since I'm already 33 weeks, but I'd like to keep the kiddo in until at least 36 or 37. I just hope bed rest isn't in the cards.

I've been fairly sore all day today. If I had to guess, I'd say that he's just going through another huge growth spurt and that triggered the BH. He hasn't let up rolling around and punching and kicking all day, either.

I did do a little low-impact work today. Ethan and I tackled our own bedroom. We're mostly done. It was the one room in the house (other than the nursery) that we totally trashed since we can just close the doors when people come over. Besides, it's wear the baby will be sleeping when he comes home anyway, so it takes priority over the nursery.

After about 3o mins I was exhausted again, so I rewarded myself by downloading some music off iTunes. I downloaded Pixies (never needed to own my own Pixies since I always seemed to know someone I could borrow from), and the Rockabye Baby! Cure album. I've been listening to Pixies all night now, but only listened to a sample of a few of the songs on the latter album.

For those unfamiliar with the Rockabye Baby! album line, they feature albums of lullaby versions of songs from all kinds of cool bands/artists: The Cure, Smashing Pumpkins, AC/DC, Metallica, and Nirvana to name a few. It's friggin' adorable. I listened to about 10 seconds worth of the Rockabye Baby! version of "Just Like Heaven" and burst into tears, it was so sweet. I'm a gigantic dork.

Crap, I just went to the official web site--there's a Ramones album!! I didn't see that on iTunes. And one of the tracks is "Beat on the Brat!" That's hysterical. Love the song, don't know if I want to lull my son to sleep with it, though. I will have to purchase it nonetheless. Now I just need them to do a Weezer album and I'll be all set.

Palin's Off The Chain!!!

According to a McCain adviser, Sarah Palin is "going rogue" and has begun positioning herself for a 2012 run rather than focusing on winning 2008. I find this phrase especially fitting since "rogue" is usually paired in my mind with "elephant," the very symbol of the republican party.

If Palin were an actual elephant stampeding willy nilly through the town there'd be only one solution: a high powered rifle. Obviously this is not an option for the McCain campaign, so it will be interesting to see how they deal with this latest campaign-killing problem instead.

Apparently Palin isn't so happy about having been thrown under the bus, for which I applaud her. Liberals may have dubbed her "Caribou Barbie," but it's the campaign who made her into such a plastic persona.

Nicole Wallace (whom I loathe as much as Steve Schmidt) had this to say:

The Politico reported Saturday about Palin's frustration specifically with McCain advisers Nicolle Wallace and Steve Schmidt, who helped make the decision to limit Palin's initial press contact to a couple of high profile interviews with Charlie Gibson of ABC and Katie Couric of CBS, which all McCain sources admit were highly damaging.

In response, Wallace emailed CNN the same quote she gave the Politico:

“If people want to throw me under the bus my personal belief is that the most honorable thing to do is to lie there,” said Wallace.

What a spineless twat--oops!--I mean selfless martyr and patriot.

My Love/Hate Relationship With Old Navy

The bastards got me again. What happened to the good old days when boys' clothing was boring and not nearly as adorable as girls'?

I popped onto the web site "just to look." I really should know better by now. They hooked me with a single $7.00 item:

This adorable yeti bodysuit. In the bottom left corner it reads "Mommy's Abominable Snowboy." Holy shit. How could I say no to that? I showed it to Ethan and he concurred. Here's the thing--the cheapest shipping option is $7.00 as well, so it hardly pays to just get that one item, right? So I looked through the rest of their winter stuff for good bargains.

I wound up putting another dozen items in the cart--2 adorable sweaters, jeans, cords, cargo pants, long-sleeved tees and rugby shirts, and a pair of cute crib shoes. Only 1 item was not on sale. The next highest item was $10. Everything else ranged from $2.49 (THAT'S TWO-FORTY-NINE!!) to $7.00.

Cripes I love Old Navy. I just wish they wouldn't have so MUCH on sale at once so that I feel like I have to get one of everything. Still, I managed to get 13 items for an average of $6.00 ea. That's damn hard to beat--and he's going to be one well-dressed little man. And Mommy should be able to go weeks without having to do baby laundry. Good stuff.

More Stockbroker Fun!

This is why my best friend rocks harder than DIAMONDS. She sent me this blog full of pictures of miserable stockbrokers. I'll have to explore it at length, but this pic on the first page was too good to pass up. Please feel free to add your own caption!

"Bob began to panic the second he realized the DOW had dropped
further than Karen's boobs."

The Latest McCain Campaign Strategy: Outright Denial

Apparently Johnny Mac is "amazed" that other, prominent, members of the republican party have criticized Palin as his running mate. I could understand "disappointed," but "amazed?" Cadaver, pleez!

This one kills me...

"She is a governor, the most popular governor in America,” McCain said. “I think she is the most qualified of any that has run recently for vice president.”

Really? Including Dick Cheney? I mean, we all know how I feel about Dick, but even I would argue that he's more qualified to be VP than Palin. And what about Joe Lieberman? Wasn't McCain courting him to be his running mate? Does he truly, in his heart of hearts, think Palin is more qualified than Lieberman???

He went on to once again chide the media for their "gotcha questions" (you remember: what newspapers do you read? what does the vice president do? etc.)

And then....and then....my favorite:

McCain also mocked suggestions that Palin has to face tough interviews on the Sunday shows in order to prove herself to voters.

“That’s hilarious. With thousands of people showing up at town hall meetings, I've never had a person show up and ask when she is going on ‘Meet the Press.’ Not one.”

You wanna know why, Johnny?? Because even they know what a HORRENDOUS FUCKING IDEA it would be to let her anywhere near 'Meet the Press!!!'

I don't know what's worse: that your 2 top advisors thought she was a good idea, that you actually listened to them, or that you decided to save face rather than kick her to the curb and pick someone who wasn't a complete joke. Whatever. Far be it for me to look a gift moose in the mouth.

Oh heck!! I can't believe I forgot this one!

“We’re doing fine. We have a lot of enthusiasm out there. We’re working hard and enjoying the rallies and having fun. I’m very confident,” he said. “I think we’re behind, but it’s within the margin of error and we’re coming up. All the indicators are that we’re coming up.”

Uh, I'm pretty sure the margin of error is only 3-4%, sweetcheeks. Check your numbers again. Go ahead. I'll wait...