May 1st marks one year since our return from the UK.
I feel very melancholic.
I love the US. I love living here.
I will always hold dear the time we had in the UK. It was one of the best times for our marriage. We got to travel around the world. We had wild adventures. We grew together.
I hope that one day we will get to live abroad again.
I hope that I will get to visit my beloved London again. I cannot wait to show it to the Blueberry.
We are so blessed.
This afternoon David and I had a glorious nap/cuddle in the back yard. It was so peaceful and mellow. I felt very happy and relaxed until a bird flew over us and pooped–barely missing me. The next moment David was up throwing rocks at the insolent fowl. And that was the end of the Sabbath.
Saturday night I got sucked into watching The Return of the King. Not sure how it happened. I was weak and the ring was strong. I really enjoy the series but…
1. I absolutely hate Gollum. He totally terrifies me. I refuse to watch any part of the movie where he is featured…which apparently leads to severe gaps in my understanding of the story line.
2. I frequently get lost. Who is with us? Who is against us? Although I finally figured out that the answer is simple: the pretty people are with us, the ugly people are against us. Just like real life.
3. I started reading the books a few years ago but there were so many side stories that after a while I had no idea who the main characters were. I go through life writing bulletted lists. I dont appreciate verbose prose. I like Cliff notes. I know, it is blasphemy.
4. Wikipeadia is extremely helpful and clearly the Middle-Earth related posts are written by nerds who wrote entire Tolkien dissertations in elvish.
On Friday, we attended a U of U Graduation Reception–an event that I have been planning for the last few weeks. Huge deal. We were running late. I was livid. Still, I remembered that emotions are just chemical reactions and that whatever I feel, the baby feels…so I tried to cool my anger. Dont want an angry baby. The strategy I came up with was to smile while cursing. Unfortunately, even this brilliant tactic came to naught because after a while I forgot to smile and just stuck with cursing. Furthermore, the Blueberry will be bilingual so my usual default of using Czech curse words was flawed. Ingeniously I decided to switch back and forth between Czech and English so as to confuse her. I am going to be a terrific mother.
Passing babies down the pew is a well-established Church ordinance. All parents religiously ensure that their child be touched by as many strangers as possible just until they are old enough to get lectured to avoid strangers at all costs.
Well, today we witnessed a two-month old girl circulating the pews in front of us when David leaned over and asked if I will allow the same done with the Blueberry. I replied “Of course! But she will come with a hat that reads ‘Donations’ “. David proposed a sweater with a pocket labeled “Tips”. I am a practical woman but still I am not so sure I want my baby to look like kangaroo that ate a piggy bank . Instead, I think the solution is a nice wide and deep sombrero hat.. Though on particularly cute Blueberry days, I might consider a sombrero/sweater combo. Must remember to register for a sombrero for my baby shower!
Frankly, experiences like this make me laugh about my previous mothering anxieties. Clearly child labor comes naturally to me!
Additionally, although it is impossible to put the word “accountant” and “hippie” in the same sentence…I have a confession to make….I am considering placenta encapsulation.
Yes, I want to eat my own organ.
Yes, it borders on cannibalism and masochism.
Yes, I promise to share all the gory details with you.
But, you never, ever argue with a pregnant woman.
Btw, read this hilarious article on the topic written by a Lysol-loving husband.
We just witnessed the most hilarious thing at an Accounting Grad School graduating social. We were working the tail end of the welcoming table, and the graduate adviser (who was responsible for the event) and Dean walked up to the table. There were 3 piles of name tags scattered all over the table; students, faculty, and guests.
The advisor nervously started going on about how many people RSVP’d, and how they should be coming, under the watchful eye of the Dean. Then he proceeded to consolidate all the name tags into the smallest space possible. “Ah!” I thought. “I know what’s going on here.”
As I continued to observe, it got better. Soon, of all things, both the Dean AND the advisor proceeded to comb through the tags one more time, and discard name tags of those who “couldn’t come”, “were sick”, or “weren’t coming”, including one faculty member who was unceremoniously dumped in the bin. (“They’re probably not coming”)
I thought this was “social mobility”, but it turns out it was just Accountants being OCD.
This is a great article about temples…
written by a female episcopal priest…
published in the Huffington Post.
Cars whiz down the track
Yesterday I witnessed my first Scout pinewood derby.
The night before David was in the garage till midnight searching through all our storage boxes for his two derby cars. Sadly, to no avail. He was very distraught.
I had absolutely no idea the race was such a grand production! There was last minute weighing, wheel adjustments, and painting. The dads talked about the power of their sanders and secrets of graphite application. The boys compared designs and practiced dry runs.
It was a blast.
Boys are just boys.
I am ten minutes away from my last lecture of the semester. Wow. Time flies. I am so grateful I have made it this far. I have received so many tender mercies from the Lord.
This morning I felt inspired to make Rice Krispies Treat for David’s lunch snack.
I got out my butter, marshmallows, and Rice Krispies and was ready to make Julia Child cry when… I discovered that the recipe was nowhere to be found on the cereal box. Not on the top, side, bottom, or inside. I searched and searched but found nothing but promotions for Cars 2.
In what universe does the manufacturer think that anyone buys this cereal for any other purpose but Rice Krispies Treat?
So I had to google the recipe which felt silly but I sure dont remember the proportions of a recipe I make make 3 times a year.
Where is the world heading to?
Yesterday I spent some time seeking the internet wisdom of veteran mothers on what to bring to the hospital for the Blueberry arrival.
The list started with about 10 reasonable items.
Then I made the fatal mistake of reading the comments section. Well, before you know it my list was 35 items long and I was looking on amazon for a new suitcase to pack it all in.
My favorite comment was from a husband who apparently packed the whole house and both bathrooms only to discover that he forgot his wife’s deodorant. Turns out his sweat-covered laboring wife did not take it well. Made me laugh.
I am not a pack rat. I do not accumulate “stuff”. I am constantly purging the house of “stuff”.
However, the thing with OCD is that when it comes to packing for a trip or any kind of venture, OCD turns into the “You never know syndrom”.
Still, somehow it does not feel right to have to move to give birth to a baby.
All related anatomic issues aside…today for the first time I pondered what it would be like if David was the one carrying the baby.
I love being pregnant. Yes, I have not been sick or really particularly impeded by my new tenant but it is more than that. I love having her to myself. I love talking to her. I love feeling her every move. I love watching my entire tummy shift when she goes globetrotting. I love that I dont miss anything she does.
I love being a girl.
David does spend a lot of time touching my tummy. He really is quite involved but I cannot help but think that if it was the other way around, I would be eaten by jealousy. I would walk around with my hands duct taped to his tummy. And when he went to work I would give him a recording of my voice to play to her.
Crazy. But, gosh, I love her so much.
Changing the subject…pregnancy clothes are tricky. That is especially problematic if you need to go to the bathroom urgently. Actually is there even a different mode than urgent…anyway…the deal is that Tshirts are long and go low, but pants with the giant elastic bands go way up, then garment tops go way down but bottoms go way up. It is like a freaking maze before I am able to strip down. Is this the modern version of a chastity belt??? But hasnt the ship sailed considering I am already pregnant? Hmmmm.
This morning I climbed back into bed twice to cuddle with David. I was really trying to be productive but apparently my needy side got the better of me. I always have this internal battle–I dont want to wake him up but I kinda do. I want him to get his sleep but I also want him to know that I am there and that he needs to reposition himself so I can lie in my spot. Of course, he does the same to me when he comes to bed late at night and arranges me but I sleep like a log and if he moved me all the way to Idaho I would not know it. I love being married.
Wow. Time has flown by!!!!
The Blueberry is 28 weeks today which means we are starting the 3rd trimester.
On Friday we had our monthly doc appointment. The Blueberry is doing great. Her heartbeat is at 150 and she is two moves away from a black belt. I was tested for gestational diabetes which meant I had to drink a diabetes-coma-inducing glucose potion. This concoction is about 2 pounds of sugar dissolved in a tablespoon of water. I have never tasted anything that sweet and the fruit punch flavor made me want to lick salt for breakfast, lunch, and dinner for the rest of my life. Ugh.
I have gained 18 pounds which apparently is good (according to the doctor) but cumbersome (according to me).
All the pregnancy books stress how important it is for the husband to compliment the woman on her changing body. Well, David has been absolutely amazing. He tells me I look sexy every day. He loves to hold my tummy. And then on Sunday he woke up earlier than me and just watched me sleep while bonding with the kicking Blueberry. Isn’t he just wonderful?
I have had a hard time embracing the “sexy” side of pregnancy but I think I am getting there…unless I am picking something off the ground, running, or getting off a couch.