Friday, June 25, 2010

Friday Free Association.

Because I am woefully low on inspiration these days, here's a roundup of things currently swirling around in my head:


If you care more about this relationship than your own, you need to back away from the scripted "reality" show and go get a life:

Image and video hosting by TinyPic

If you just asked yourself, "Who are these people?" good for you. You get a gold star and the pride of knowing that your brain is not in imminent danger of being turned to Spam. Apparently these two idiots are the latest couple to (gasp) split up after meeting on that usually reliable matchmaking tool known as "The Bachelor" (or as I like to call it, "A Case for Forced Sterilization").

It is not news that these people are breaking up. News is the 2 wars we are still endlessly engaged in. News is the oil that continues to gush into our Gulf Coast thanks to BP and the delusional "Drill Baby Drill" crowd. News is the fact that I am having an amazing hair day. What is NOT news is that 2 people who apparently are so fatally flawed that no one in real life wanted to date them had to go on television and act out some bizarre new age mating ritual where 6 weeks and a Malibu beach house apparently lead you to your "soul mate". These people suck. TV sucks. And if you are scouring the interwebz for info on what led to the dissolution of their union, then I think you suck too.


If it's not True Blood, I just don't care. Case in point:

Hot Swedish Vampire whose name includes too many consonants to type? EXCELLENT:
Image and video hosting by TinyPic
I would definitely let this man bite my neck. (And I'm not normally into that sort of thing.)

Pale, moody, teeny bop Vampire with codependency issues and bad hair? NOT EXCELLENT:
Image and video hosting by TinyPic
This guy looks like he needs a bitch slap. And a sandwich. I do not appreciate a man with nicer cheekbones than me.


One of the more bizarre things about being pregnant is the total lack of boundaries that once polite people will exhibit upon finding you in "the family way." Here are some of the wildly inappropriate questions I've been asked by seemingly normal people, and the unique responses I've formulated for them:

"Was your pregnancy planned?"
No, but thank God we're married so she won't be a bastard!

"I didn't know you were trying!"
Oh shoot, you must not have been on the e-mail distribution list for the "Valentine Sex Schedule" that I sent out to everyone. We'll get you next time.

"Did Mr. Val want a boy?"
Yes, we're very concerned about who will assume his throne now.

"Did I tell you about my [insert horrible labor, delivery, breastfeeding, recuperation story here]?"
I do not want to know about your episiotomy. I do not want to know that your placenta had to be delivered out your anus. I do not want to know that your baby's poop looked like beans for the first month. Whatever lies ahead for me and my cervix, stomach, brain & sense of smell I will find out on my own, thankyouverymuch.

"Can I rub your belly?"
Only if I can rub yours first.


Tuesday, June 22, 2010

An ogre and a gentleman.

I have a theory. If you want to know exactly who a person is on the inside, ride public transportation. My interaction with the masses on the Metra every morning gives me more insight into their collective psyche than if I were to direct a Ken Burns documentary about them.

You really see the best or worst when you are among the crush of humanity that is downtown Chicago at rush hour. Take this morning for example. For some presently unexplained reason, the Metra has been running 15-20 minutes late this week. (The Chicago RTA doesn't seem to concerned, so apparently, neither should I.) This has created a bottle neck on all trains and therefore a lack of seats.

As I went to get on the train, a middle aged man literally tried to push me out of the way to get on the train first. I, being my politely passive agressive self swung my giant purse towards him (maybe it hit him, I'm not really sure) and created a fashionable moat of sorts to keep him at bay. I heard him huff and puff and say something under his breath to which I cheerfully chirped, "I'm sorry, what was that?" He just stared at me and shuffled to the next car. Problem solved.

I interupt my discourse to encourage you ladies to use this story to illustrate the importance of accessories the next time your husband questions your need for another purse. A well placed purse can be the difference b/t a happy fetus and cankles. Just sayin'.

I successfully navigated my way on the train only to find that there were no seats. You learn quickly in a big city that being with child/elderly/infirm does not apparently engender the type of chilvary one would hope. I resigned myself to my fate and moved towards the front of the car where I could at least hang on to a bar for dear life as the train hurtled toward the Loop. All of the sudden someone tapped my shoulder and a young man, about 20, told me to take his seat.

And just like that, my faith in humanity restored. It's good to know that there are still people in the world who don't suck. I hope the universe sends some kindness your way dude because you seriously made my morning.


Friday, June 18, 2010

Things that are awesome.

A melange of things that are making me smile today:

Image and video hosting by TinyPic

Image and video hosting by TinyPic

Image and video hosting by TinyPic kicks in my belly, friends getting married, family in town, a husband who kisses me at least 10 times a day, sandals, paid maternity leave (woot!) and Friday!

Hope you all have a wonderful weekend!

Thursday, June 17, 2010

"A Child is a Curly, Dimpled Lunatic." - Ralph Waldo Emerson

As you know, last Friday Mr.Val and I had our big 20 week ultrasound with full anatomy scan. I was so excited to find out the sex that I didn't fully comprehend what a detailed appointment it was. Once I realized that they were checking on all aspects of the baby's development I honestly got a little anxious. No matter how many times I hear babyVal's heartbeat or feel the little flutters in my belly, my heart still leaps into my throat until I've gotten another confirmation that everything is on track. I'm sure it won't fully go away until I'm holding babyVal and have counted all those little fingers and toes!

Unfounded panic aside, everything with the baby looks great. They had me measuring a few days behind my original due date but nothing out of the ordinary. If babyVal wants to push the birthday into November that is fine with me!

At the end of the appointment 2 funny things happened, the first when they tried to determine the gender. All through the appointment babyVal had crossed legs. Already my child is running the show, of course. The ultrasound tech tried everything. Jostling my belly gently, rolling me over all to no avail. Finally she brought in another tech and they attempted a shot from "under the hood" if you catch my drift. They whispered to each other for a moment and said that they were 98% sure it was a girl.

It's at this point that I must point out that I seriously do not know how they determine this. They are trained and I trust them but when they were showing me babyVal's lady bits, I nodded like I understood but truthfully? I felt like Rachael on "Friends" when she can't see anything on the ultrasound. I've honestly felt from the get go that babyVal was a girl, but lets just say I'm prepping for the appearance of a surprise penis, LOL.

After that, they did a brief internal exam. Since I'd been with these ladies for the better part of an hour I just dropped my undies (was wearing a dress) and hopped up on the table. The tech kind of blushed and said, "We could have stepped out!" and I'm thinking lady, you've just spent the last hour manhandling my belly and rubbing me down with goo and you're about to put a camera IN MY UTERUS. Let's drop the pretense, ok? Plus, if I'm going to be shooting a person out of my loins in 4 and half months, perhaps its best I learn not to be quite so modest, no?

Me being me, I demanded Mr.Val take me shopping immediately after the appointment so I could begin buying the love of my unborn daughter. He obliged, as he always does my whims, and through a dreamy eyed state we started spending obscene amounts of money on our little baby girl. Here are some of the outfits we just HAD to have:

Sweet little onesies:
Image and video hosting by TinyPic

You know, because every baby needs a giraffe print caftan to cover up at the pool:
Image and video hosting by TinyPic

And yes, I have already bought my baby girl a Laker shirt. Because you are never to young to root for the BEST TEAM EVER!
Image and video hosting by TinyPic


Saturday, June 5, 2010

Half Baked.

And no I'm not talking about pot you druggies.

I'm talking about babyVal, who is officially halfway baked this week. To my knowledge this means he/she looks less fishy, although I won't have confirmation on that until Friday, which is our big ultrasound where we find out the sex! It's funny, because I always thought I wanted a little boy first but once I became pregnant I started secretly dreaming of a little girl in dresses and hair bows and ruffle butt bikinis. Don't judge - I'll be thrilled either way, but anyone who says they haven't thought of one gender of the other is full of it. Just like I know my husband is dreaming of t-ball games and teaching a little black-haired boy to play football, but would equally adore being wrapped around the little finger of a curly headed baby girl.

That said, we have taken numerous bets on the gender with a slight edge going to the girl camp. It's about a 55/45 split on guesses girl/boy. I love the logic of guessing to, it's normally something as conclusive as "Your skin looks bad. Girl." or "You don't look any different from the back. Boy." or "I've been dreaming of a mongoose eating a snake, which in Pagan folklore means boy." Obviously, Mr. Val and I couldn't care less, one healthy, happy giggling baby is all we need.

That said, here is the 20 week round of pregnancy stats. Feel free to interpret them as you will and lay a wager down on the state of babyVal's reproductive organs. There isn't any money in it for you, just the personal pride that comes from successfully guessing the genitalia of an Internet stranger's fetus.

Weight Gain/Loss: I said I'd never tell, but I'm up about 10 lbs. I wish this didn't freak me out so much but it does. I do adore the baby bump makes me smile every time I catch my reflection.
Maternity clothes: I'm rocking half maternity clothes and half normal. I've pretty much only gained weight in the belly, so I'm getting away with regular tops that are either a size up or empire waisted. I do have some maternity tanks & shirts though that are heavenly. I'm still able to wear most of my normal pants with a belly band although I have a few pairs of maternity pants I'm about to bust into. Oh yeah...elasticized waistbands here I come!
Stretch Marks: Nope. Keep knocking on wood...I'm using the Medela stretch mark cream, so I'm pretty pleased with that for now.
Sleep: I am sleeping fine, exclusively on my side though which is an adjustment for a stomach sleeper like me.
Movement: It started a week ago with this weird little popping sensation, unlike anything I've ever felt. Now I feel baby all the time, and I'd describe it as a gentle rolling feeling. It's strong enough that Mr. Val can feel it too!
Food cravings/aversions: no more aversions. The last specific craving I had was for coffee ice cream. I've been eating it like crazy.
Gender: I am still leaning towards girl, but to be honest I have no idea.
What I miss: margaritas
Best moment this week: seeing Mr. Val's face light up when he felt the baby move.

So that's it! I should be a more regular blogger again now that I'm settled into my new job (more on that later). I've got to go...Top Gun is on which is clearly the Citizen Kane of the 80's, so I'm going to watch it with a giant bowl of ice cream on my lap.