Glimpses

Life is just barreling by these days. I know I say that kind of shit alot, but its just really true right now. I feel like I'm on Space Mountain or something...just kareening through in the dark, up and down, dipping and spinning, grasping at any thing that will make me feel grounded.

Crafting, however, is one thing that helps me feel a bit more sane...

First up, a picture of the Big Bad Baby Blanket (from Stitch n' Bitch). Its about halfway done. 100% Organic cotton yarn in pretty fall colors. Knitting is such therapy for me. Sorry its a sucky picture - I just took it with my phone, but you get the idea.



And some cute robot iron-on transfers I got from The Mod Dots Shop and slapped on some onesies.

After finishing these, I think I officially have an iron-on transfer BUG and want to do more! So I'm on the lookout for cute patterns...

And just for fun, a picture of me at 24 weeks. It looks so institutional because I work at a university and work is the only place I have access to a mirror that shows anything lower than my chest.
Note the j-lo junk in the trunk phenomenon. Booty-licious.

Mini-break= Good. Weight Gain = Ugh.

Hooray for 3-day weekends! The Husband and I went on a mini-break to Boulder, CO and had some much needed couple-time. It was lovely. Even though we are kind of broke at the moment, we just said 'screw it' and had fun. We ate tons of great food, did lots of window shopping and generally enjoyed eachother's company. We even ordered room service for breakfast because that is one of my all-time favorite, decadent things to do (I had banana-stuffed french toast. OMG it was SO good.) A yummy time, all around.

The trip had a practical purpose as well: We got our baby registry squared away. Feels good to have that all done. There's so much crap out there for babies, its hard to know what will be actually needed and what is just so much fluff. Fortunately, I have lots of mommy-friends who give advice freely so I think we did ok. As long as we get the co-sleeper, the carseat, and something to wrap the little guy up in, I think we will be golden.

We also did lots of talking about this new little person who will be here soon. We are already referring to him by name so much that it is hard to remember not to use it in anyone else's company. We really want to keep the name a secret if we can, but its difficult not to let it slip. I've taken to calling him the Karate Kid lately, as his kicks (or headbutts or whatever they are) have assumed such force, I can only guess that he is practicing to be a cage fighter.

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I am 24 weeks today. I look in the mirror in the morning and just have to shake my head in wonderment at the changes that have taken place in the last month or so. I am now unmistakeably pregnant. Its a weird feeling. And I know that I will only get bigger in the next 3 1/2 months. I am also finding it difficult to not worry about the weight gain. I know its normal and healthy and blah blah blah but I have worked so hard in the last 2 years to trim down and get in great shape that it is very challenging for me to see my meticulously toned body turn to what feels like marshmallow goo. I'm still exercising every day and trying to watch what I eat but I'm just so hungry all the time! My body has taken on a mind of its own, morphing into something completely unrecognizable and decidedly not skinny.

I know that a healthy baby is the number one most important thing...but is it so selfish of me to want to keep my thighs too? Yes, probably. I am already a horrible mother. Vainly caring about my cellulite when there is a little Karate Kid who needs lots of nourishment. Sigh. I think I'll go have a cookie.

Contest

So, I read about a contest on Megan's blog, which then led me to the actual contest info on Adventures in Babywearing (awesome! Note to self: Must read archives. Fabulous!) and Mason & Matisse. Drool. I LOVE bloggy-linky treasure hunts!

So know I am going commerce crazy and daydreaming about all this cute Mason & Matisse stuff:

This is right up our alley. And OMIGOSH the Babylicious stuff is too adorable. If only money were no object...

Nothing like some internet window shopping to brighten up a dreary day!

Dear Universe,

Just a few questions. For, you know, whenever you have some down time.

1. When, oh when sweet jeebus will it be warm? Not that I wish it was 100 degrees or anything, but 70 would be nice. I'm just saying. I'm getting tired of hauling my plants indoors every night due to the imminent threat of a bracing frost. So can we work on that, Universe? Thnx.

2. Also, dear Universe, while I have your attention, why was I cursed with varicose veins? This was really one of those pesky pregnancy 'symptoms' that the books tell you about that I secretly knew would not be a problem for me. This was, of course, completely delusional on my part, since my mother has them. Oops. I know I should be grateful that I have a healthy body and legs that get me from point A to point B day in and day out with nary a complaint but the vain, selfish part of me hates these puffy rivers of blue that map the back of my legs. And just in time for summer. If it ever gets here (see above.)

3. Why is it when we tell people that Yes, we have decided on a name for this baby and No, we are not telling do they insist upon guessing a long list of names, most of which I hate? "Oooh, is it Dustin? Derek? Tanner? Colton?" No! And Barf. (Of course, no offense is meant if you actually like these names...after all, they are very popular, at least in my state. They are not, however, for me. Or my kid.) Just stop guessing and accept the fact that you will not know the name until the kid gets here. Gracias.

4. Also, (and this is just a minor thing) why are most of my pregnancy dreams centered around Barak Obama? This, unlike the veins, is not a particularly unpleasant phenomenon, but I'd still like to know.

Thanks in advance,
Love,
Birdie

Growing Up

I have this friend from high-school-time that I recently reconnected with. Back in the day, he was a wonderful buddy- someone I really got along with. On a fluke, I discovered him in New York City, of all places, last year and we had a wonderful time going over the 'good old days' and marvelling at the way we had both totally changed and remained completely the same.


We were both on the speech and debate teams for our respective schools (his was about 3 1/2 hours from mine- neighbors by Wyoming standards) so we knew each other peripherally from that. Then, we both were chosen to attend a special month-long summer camp type thingy at the University of Wyoming the summer before our junior year. During that time, we had countless late night talks fraught with the angst and idealism that only teenagers know. We laughed, cried, and nursed each other through heart wrenching romantic relationship issues with others. At one point, the people in charge caught him in my room (a huge NO-NO) and we both got in enormous trouble. Even though we were not dating and never had romantic feelings for each other, we really bonded and were sad to say goodbye at the end.

This friend knew me at a time in my life when I was just starting out- just beginning to see myself as a player in the world. Just beginning to think about things like social justice, politics, feminism and the future. He was right there with me, and it was wonderful to have someone to travel this road with.

We saw each other a handful of times more until graduation at which time we parted ways, never to speak again. Until last year that is, when we hung out in NYC for 3 days of boozing and catching up. It was fabulous.

Today, my friend emailed me a picture. It is a picture of me that he took when I was 17 years old. I find myself scrutinizing it...looking for some glimmer of recognition of my former self. This is the me he knew. The girl in the photo looks so...happy. So young. So careless and wild. Am I still that same person now, nearly 13 years later? Yes and no. I recognize parts of this girl in myself, but I have grown up. At the end of this summer, I will turn 30. While that feels old, it also feels more comfortable than 17 did. I'm more cynical, and more resigned. I'm more confident, more sure of myself, my beliefs, and my place in this world. I know myself so much better- what I will and won't do, which compromises I'll make and which issues on which I will refuse to budge.

Would I go back to 17 if I could? Maybe for just one day. Just to feel that carefree, wild, hopeful, just-on-the-brink-of-life feeling again. But pretty soon, I think I'd want to come back to now...there was so much uncertainty back then. There is uncertainty now too, of course, but its a different thing because my core is more solid- I know who I am. Because as fun as 17 was, 29 feels better.

Touchy Subject

As mentioned in the previous post, we recently had our 20week ultrasound and found out that aside from looking normal and healthy (huzzah!), our baby is a boy. That day, laying on my back in the ultrasound room looking at pictures of my *gulp* son, I (with my neurotic, over-active brain) immediately started to think about all the decisions and work that lay ahead of us. One of the first things that popped into my head, for whatever reason, was circumcision.

I know that this is a touchy subject for a lot of people. One that carries weight because of religion, tradition, family history, or personal ethics. It's something that the Husband and I had never really discussed at length and I began to worry that our views may differ.

For the record, I am anti-circumcision. In my mind, the way that nature made you is just FINE and its silly to perform what is at best cosmetic surgery and at worst genital mutilation on a helpless, trusting infant. I just don't think that a baby's first days in the world should be colored by pain. Especially pain in such a sensitive area. Also, from the research I've read, there is no medical reason for this procedure- the myths of better hygiene and decreased risk of disease are just that- myths. (For more information see here, here, and/or here). Also the "he should look the way his father looks" argument doesn't really hold weight for me. How hard is it to explain that "when your father was a baby this was something they did but by the time you came along, we knew better?" Not that difficult, I'd wager.

Turns out, my worrying was for nada. As it turns out, the Husband and I are totally on the same page. Yay! He agrees that circumcision is an unnecessary procedure and sees no reason to perform it on our son. Good gravy, I love this man.

Whew. Now we can move on the the Very Important Question of What Music the Baby Will Listen To. This will be a much more hotly contested issue, I can assure you. Stay tuned.

It's a...

Boy!

Had the 20week ultrasound yesterday and aside from finding out the sex, we also learned that everything looks great. So, YAY. The doc who did the ultrasound seemed to do a good job (taking his time with measurements, explaining what he was doing, etc) and he put it on DVD for us. To be honest, I had no idea what he was talking about for the most part (just looked like fuzzy blobs) but its cool to have a record of it. And I definately caught some feet and hands, the top of a head and the scrotum that he so gleefully pointed out to us.

The fact that it is a boy is cool for many reasons (not that a girl wouldn't have been): First, we already agree on a boy name. Girl names would have meant some fights, I just know it. Also, we have good friends who just had a boy last September and the Husband's Sis had one in December so I think we will have lots of boyish hand-me-downs. That should save us some bank. And, I have always sort of pictured us with a little boy. I'm not sure why, but there it is. This is going to be fun. (Hard, I know ;-), but fun).

Back to the name thing- I'm so excited that we agree on one that we both love this early. We have decided, however, not to share it. That way, 1) no one can nay-say it until the little bugger is actually here and 2) if we do, by chance, change our minds for any reason, no one will be the wiser. Still, its exciting to be thinking of this little alien in my tummy as a 'he' with a name.

Man, this seems so real all of a sudden...;-)

I Give Up.

*Warning: Fairly Negative Venting Ahead.*

So. We have been officially 'house-hunting' for our first home for about a year now. And I give up. Between a husband who is resisting, who somehow thinks that renting is better than owning (because, you know, owning a home is a commitment) and who can never make up his mind about anything and a depressingly bare market, I do not think we will ever find anything.

We have looked at so. many. houses. And all of them, with the exeption of maybe 2, are totally and completely wrong for us. And the 2 that might have worked? A certain someone hemmed and hawed until another buyer snapped them up.

I hate to be negative about this, but I feel like I've been positive for so long, that I am just tired. Tired of hoping that maybe the next one will be THE one. Tired of hoping that the Husband will be able to actually commit to something without taking a month to deliberate. Is it a tragedy if we rent forever? No. But it would definately be smarter financially to invest. And, well, there would just be a certain sense of security in owning our home. Especially, you know, with a kid on the way and whatnot.

Sigh.

*End of Vent. Thank you for your Patience.*

Memo

From: Birdie

To: The people that call me at work and are horribly rude but then expect me to bend over backwards to do what ever you want.

Don't.

Thanks.