Friday, February 27, 2009

I'm Writing About Hazardous Waste Law

So I’m sitting in Starbucks working on my final paper for law school and out of the corner of my eye I see a bright orange jumpsuit. This of course caught my attention, as I turned my head to fully appreciate the glory of the jumpsuit I realized it was a Hooters waitress’ outfit. Obviously this makes the jumpsuit less interesting because now there is a reason for it and well I’m only interested in jumpsuits worn by people who understand you don’t need no reason to wear a jumpsuit. In any case, I was about to return to my paper when the door furthest away from the jumpsuit clad waitress opened and in came an employee from Buffalo Wild Wings. I almost spit out my coffee. Maybe it was my imagination or maybe it really happened but for a second I swear their eyes met in an across-the-Starbucks-Chicken-Wing-Waitress-Showdown. For that split second I pondered on which Uniformed Chicken Pusher would attack first. But to my surprise they simultaneously gave each other the head nod, like you often see teenage guys give each other because they are too cool or akward to say anything of even shake hands. Anyways I took this head nod to mean something more, it was a sign of mutual respect, a split second commiseration, they both knew what it was to serve the wing. As I said, this fraction of a second acknowledgment might not have actually have happened, but I like to think that it did.

Wednesday, February 25, 2009

Another Stellar Example of Parenting

I accidentally ate raw squid last weekend.

How does that happen? You go eat Korean barbecue somewhere you never have. You think, "mmmm, spicy onion stuff." You eat half of it. Your husband asks you if you have really felt the texture. You take another bite and chew thoughtfully. Squid.

I am sure this happens to other people all the time. No? Just me? Then I blame both the lack of sleep and lack of oxygen I am getting right now. See how I blamed the baby? Stellar Example #2.

Thursday, February 19, 2009

Good Thing a Focus is Largely Plastic

We aren't very big fans of Dallas. Some of this comes from our own interests, opinions, or pretensions. Some of it is entirely based on reality. For instance, Dallas is full of terrible drivers. Blatantly, unapologetically terrible. We have already seen four or five bikers being checked over by paramedics after being hit by a car. We never saw this in our whole two years in Oregon, where there were far more bikers. Most days on my way to work I have to veer around one or two cars that are traveling the wrong way on a one way street. I would say I count at least ten narrowly avoided wrecks everyday on my way to or from work. I wish I could say I am exaggerating.

So it was only a matter of time, I guess.

Yesterday Sergio slowed down for a yellow light and got hit. The other driver immediately took the blame saying Sergio was a better driver than he expected. He had swerved into the lane behind him thinking they would run the light. Oops. I think only here could safe driving instigate an accident.

There are two things about this wreck that make me happy. One, Sergio wasn't on his bike. Two, I have been growing more and more paranoid about having an accident in this city once the baby comes. Hopefully now the odds are on our side that we won't have another before we move. But we got a good car seat just in case.

Sunday, February 15, 2009

Slightly More Prepared

When we were in Pocahontas over Christmas break Sergio and his father built the baby a crib.  I had perused websites and picked a design that I liked.  Sergio then went over every safety requirement and dimension related to cribs and formed a design.  He and his Dad then worked out all the details together and built it in the freezing cold temperatures.  Unfortunately, I then came down with the infection that required the trip to Newport and the possibly unnecessary shots in the butt.  We had to leave the crib behind.  At this point Sergio's parents took over finding the appropriate hardware and staining and painting the crib.  They put in a lot of work, especially his Dad.  This weekend they brought it down for us.

It is perfect.  
They also came bearing other gifts.  They gave us all of our diapers, another hand crocheted blanket and hangers.  They brought some gifts from his Aunt, and two large boxes of wipes from his Grandmother.  The staff where I work threw me a surprise baby shower on Friday where I received a Target gift card.  This allowed us to go and buy a few other things we probably need before the baby shows socks.  But where to put all of this stuff?  My closet was full.  After striking out at Target and Ikea we hit Craigslist and found something that almost perfectly met our needs for a much better price.  Sergio and his father just had to drive out to the burbs and find a little country store before six.  But look at how cute everything looks in there.

These are all of our diapers...

Sunday, February 08, 2009

Letter #1

Dear Rosalind,

I am 32 weeks and six days pregnant with you.  The baby book has a place in it for me to write a letter to you, and I will eventually.  I want your book to be nice and something that doesn't embarrass you to look at.  I have no such qualms about the blog though, so here goes.

The book wants a letter in response to, "How Mommy Feels..."  That is a loaded question.  Today I am tired and achy and you caused me to suck my breath in hard many times throughout the day. You are violently active.  If you are curious, your butt is stuck in my right rib cage, and your feet pop out my right side all the time.  It turns out your head is the thing wreaking havoc on my bladder.  

At six weeks I felt ill all the time.  At twelve weeks I was nearly ten pounds lighter, exhausted and miserable.  At sixteen weeks I was thrilled because food was possibly appetizing again.  At eighteen I was dazed.  You are a girl!  At twenty weeks we are both terrified.  You might have a marker for Down's.  We have to follow-up.  At 23 weeks we are tentatively happy again. Everything looks fine.  And then boredom and waiting and counting down all the time.  And here we are today.  

I suppose none of this is really how I feel.  On the inside.  With the rainbows and butterflies and such.  I feel...panicked.  Not about you.  I am very excited to know you as a person and the prospect of you is thrilling.  But that doesn't relieve the panic.  Let me attempt an explanation.

Nothing qualifies me to be your mother.  If I had to interview for this I know that I would lose the job to many more qualified candidates.  I know this because I spent about a half an hour this week near tears because I HAVE A STRETCH MARK ON MY STOMACH!  Will I be zebra striped by the end of this pregnancy?  It will never go away.  Never EVER!  Except that it did go away.  In fact, it wasn't a stretch mark.  It was a dent that my pants had made.  And on another occasion this week I got almost lightheaded at the idea that your father and I won't be able to go to a Saturday afternoon matinee at the drop of a hat anymore.  And I just switched from Flintstones chewables to a real prenatal vitamin this week.  And twice now I have heard that poor nutrition can cause you to come out sooner and my first thought was not "I should avoid that," but instead was,"hmm, interesting."

Hello.  I am going to be your mom.  Good luck.   

P.S. Daddy wants you to know he loves you and doesn't have any of these worries. 

Wednesday, February 04, 2009

I'm Obviously Paying Attention in Class

I'm supposed to be listening to my professor right now, but Dawn asked me to post something today. So here goes, I've been looking at strollers most of the morning, and I've come to a head. I like two, one from BOB and one from TIKE TECH. So you tell me. 

BOB                                                                                                 TIKE TECH