My attitude is a little un-cute

Being pregnant is so flippin' weird, and in many different ways. I'm not just talking about what's happening to my body which, by the way, is some crazy shit. For example, I have a weird ache where my right leg is attached to my torso and I'm convinced that in the night my leg actually fell off and little fairy-like beings reattached it before I woke up, and I'm still sore from that "procedure" even though the work was exceptionally flawless.

I'm not talking about the baby either, though it is pretty cool that he apparently has great taste in music and performed some sort of Snoopy-like happy dance this morning to a sensational bluesy guitar riff. He also dug the music from the movie, Juno (or maybe he loved the movie itself because it is a GREAT film), and kicked the whole way through. He also responds to the new Alicia Keys song, "No One."

I think what I actually mean is that people respond to me in very odd ways. For example, people want to touch me in places that don't normally get touched in public. Well, not in visible public anyway. They want me to perform odd experiments on myself like: Go in a dark closet and shine a light on your stomach. It'll make the baby squirm and that's funny. People rub my belly like one might rub the Buddha or a baldhead (for luck). They talk to my belly button. They comment about my breast size (mostly in favorable terms which is nice for a change). They tell me I look well, or that I'm cute pregnant (as opposed to all of those un-cute pregnant girls). They comment on my weight, on my clothes, my "glow". One lady made fun of the fact that I was eating a pop tart for breakfast, only it was a witty quip cloaked in a warning about pop tarts being bad for babies. I mean geez. Where was my stalk of breakfast broccoli?

Last night I was out having dinner with the Fougs. We wanted to share a dessert and we picked the ice cream cake. Sure, the cake had the word "Kahlua" in it, but I thought I would ask if it was actual Kahlua or simply Kahlua flavoring. I knew that if it did have any alcohol in it, it probably wouldn't have been much. So I decided I would ask, but before I could even point to the picture, the waitress leaned over me and said, "Oh no. That has alcohol in it and babies don't like alcohol." So I hastily (and somewhat self-consciously) pointed at the next picture and that's the dessert we got. The waitress then checked back to see if "the baby liked the dessert" we picked. I hope so, because it wasn't what we wanted. (Sorry Fougs.)

First of all, what the hell? How is what I consume or don't consume any of her business? At least the Pop-tart lady was someone I know. And secondly, I'm not drinking tequila shots or beer or wine or ANYTHING alcoholic, though my doctor actually told me to have a glass of wine every now and then to relieve some of my anxiety, a condition far worse for the baby than an occasional glass of wine. But people do. They butt-in. They offer advice when none is needed. And the worst part is you can hardly be upset with them because they mean well. They actually believe they are doing the best thing for you, or teaching you some sort of life lesson, or they want to somehow be a part of it for whatever Freudian reason.

This is hardly a new concept, and I do recognize that community child rearing involves many people being in one’s personal space. “It takes a village” and whatnot. But it’s still weird.

We're Famous!

I had been floundering back and forth on whether or not I wanted to attend the Salon this semester seeing as by the end of it I may be too fat to actually fit in the circle-o-conversation. But then I received the Dallas Institue for Humanities brochure of Spring classes in the mail and saw this next to the "Friday Night Salon" entry:

How could we say no?

We brought sharpies to sign autographs and all, but people really didn't seem too interested. Sucks to their asthmars! Whatevs. We know what's what. But actually having our picture in the brochure is hilarious because we actually know nothing and attend the Salon so that we can surround ourselves with smart folks who know better than we do in an attempt to learn a thing or two about the world. You gotta love irony..

February Salon Topics

The salon topics this week are really, REALLY good ones. I would love to hear your thoughts. Also, I realized that though the comments at the salon are usually very well thought out, the delivery of the comments is not usually of any significant length. In other words, if you want to contribute a wordy response - like I usually do - that's fine, but also just a one sentence, initial thought is completely good, too.

Everyone is welcome to contribute! Here are the topics:

1. What are the limits of forgiveness?
2. Is desire for freedom natural and universal?
3. Mass denial of impending catastrophe: any way around it?

Oh Boy!

Rich and I are proud to announce that we are having a baby boy! A tall, skinny, gangly nerd boy, just like all the other men in Rich's family. And we LOVE that idea! All looks healthy and normal for the baby, which is a relief! I lost two more pounds which is BAD BAD BAD, but I'm trying to help it by eating more frequently throughout the day, instead of trying to eat three meals a day. I am supposed to have gained 10-15 pounds by now, and I've gained a total of 4. But the baby is fine! :) He is a little miracle and we are so excited! Now. About names...

It'll be alright

The last week or two have been crazy busy with the completion of the semester in January instead of before the holiday and with all the other goings on in the universe (see Stephenville). Plus I've been sick - the kind where you have EVERY symptom imaginable short of bleeding out of the eyes - the kind where you really, really wish Hugh Laurie would make a House call for once in his miserable life to save you (in a matter of days) from whatever obscure beastie is ruthlessly devouring your internal organs, bite by bite by bite.

But like most things particularly heinous and trying, this too did pass. I'm feeling much better these days, except for that whole not doing anything productive whilst couch bound.. OH and hoping that with all of the sickness and stress I haven't hurt the baby or lost too much weight - something that has already been an issue with me this pregnancy and, if I were really being honest with myself, something that has been an issue for far longer than I'd like to acknowledge today.

But for the past couple of days I've felt exhilarated by silly things, like actually getting to go outside and taking a deep breath.. because I can now. The grades for last semester are complete, and we've started a new, clean, "all's forgiven all's well" semester. Rich felt the baby kick for the fist time last night, and on Monday we go in for the next sonogram - the one that usually reveals the baby's sex among other important things. (I'm voting for NOT zombie, but activist is fine - solidarity!)

Things are looking up.

Hell, I might even clean the house or something, a task that hasn't been properly done since before Christmas. Now THAT would make things shibby!

I'm finally going to have a sister!

Congratulations on your engagement Dutch and Sarah!

We love you guys!

Overheard

1. I started doing that gonna-sneeze gasping thing while fanning my face, on the verge of a mondo-nuclear spasmodic expulsion, when one of my students yelled, "Say 'cows!'"

"Wha...ACHOOOO!?!" (intake of air, waiting for the earth to stop shaking) "What?" I inquired, thinking I must have heard her incorrectly in my pre-sneeze delirium.

"Say 'cows' next time," she said. "It will stop the sneeze."

"Oh. OK. Uh. Thanks(???)."

2. During a particularly quiet moment in class last week I heard this loudly whispered in a voice that might have held a hint of concern in it from a boy in the back of the room:

"Dude. Ms. H is getting fat."

(I grinned and shook my head.)

The guy next to him immediately swung an open handed smack right into the boy's chest (to stun not to injure) and hissed:

"Dude! She's pregnant!"

Boy: "Oh yeah."

It is the end of the semester..must hang on to the funny things and let go of all of the not-so-funny things.. like students who are failing my class because they are too apathetic to do anything..How does one fight, "I don't give a damn"?

Great.

So, today at passing period I started walking to the journalism classroom when the flighty (but brilliant) philosophy teacher who floats into my classroom stopped me to give me a baby book (which seems to be a trend, I've noticed) and said, "I've also brought these books. You should look up your baby's due date to learn about what you're in for." I looked at the books and discovered they were huge, hard-cover reference books that deal with horoscope-y type things and personality traits.

I looked at her and tried to smile, hoping not to betray the blatant skepticism that I was feeling and got a reassuring nod in return. I thought, "OK. It couldn't hurt to look." But, I decided to start with my birthday to see if the results would be anything close to truth. I picked up the first book and flipped to the October section. I found my day and was happy to see, first of all, that I share a birthday with John Lennon.

"Cool," I thought.

I read the first paragraph which basically says that people born on my day are great judges of character, that we make strong connections with people, and that we are rarely wrong in choosing our friends.

"Yeah OK. That sounds like me... and twenty thousand other folks. But this seems harmless."

I continued reading. The book says that people born on my day have a difficult time seeing themselves for who they really are.

"Definitely me," I thought, "sad, but true. Maybe I will look up my kid's due date. It couldn't hurt to see what others born on his day are like."

I flipped to little Cooder's due date, June 11th. The first words I saw on the page in bold print were, and I quote:

"LIMIT. PUSHER."

I slammed the book closed.

Stupid book.

Electoral Compass

The Fougs emailed the following link to me. I like it! But of course I want to share all things I find likable with you, dear ones, so read on...

This is a neat online quiz to see where you are on the political spectrum and which candidate you're most aligned with. It's a little oversimplified, but I found it relatively accurate. (And all of the candidate positions are supported with linked references!)

Click here: electortalcompass.com

We don't have to all agree on a particular presidential candidate, but we should at least know where we stand politically and then VOTE (!) as our consciences dictate.

Happy candidate-choosing!
christine
(and ginger)

Dental Advice

Right. So no matter how long it's been since you've been to the dentist, no matter how chummy you feel with your new oral soul mate, or how surprising it is to experience the cozy comfort of the modern exam chair. No matter how delighted you are to find that latex gloves no longer taste like a cheap condom smells but like minty, wintry bliss.. Despite all of these things, IT IS DECIDEDLY NOT OK to french your dentist's finger.. during the examination.

Not that I would know firsthand or anything. (sigh)