CheekyLea

Weaning

2012-01-18T18:02:00.000-08:00

It is finally here, the time for weaning. This is something that really scares me. For my child's entire existence we have had a relationship where he depends upon me physically. At first it was in utero and then he came out and it became breastfeeding. However, now will be the first time in our lives together where he will not need anything physical from me. I can't give him anything he can't get from anyone else.

It's so weird that our relationship is leaving the current phase. It is all I have ever known and I love it and have become comfortable with it. We will never have this again. I am worried about how he will respond to me now that this is changing. I worry that he will become distant from me or less respondent because we will no longer have our intimate snuggle sessions.

It is also distressing to me that I am about to leave the country for a month. Not only are we about to severe this physical bond between us, but I am about to severe all physical bonds between us for 31 days.

I do not want to be a stranger to my child. I am eager to have my independence back, to have my entire body be my own again. I can't wait to eat peanut products and drink when I please and have my whole body feel sexy in underwire bras. But I also feel like I am giving up a lot. Having the final nursing session right when he wakes up in the morning or right before he goes to bed will be heartbreaking. I can't imagine how I will deal with it, but I will because that seems to be what mothers do, until we die.

Literary coolness

2011-12-12T12:32:00.000-08:00

This is one of the coolest things I have read in awhile. A kid did a survey to 150 authors about symbolism after learning about it in high school in 1963. About half the authors wrote back to him and they have Ray Bradbury's available to read. I think he is publishing them or something. I bet his 70-something self is thanking is 16 year-old self profusely.

Yoga

2011-11-23T20:24:00.001-08:00

Is it weird that I mostly like taking yoga for the Corpse Pose at the end of class? It just never feels as good without all the class crap beforehand.

Husbands and fathers

2011-11-19T10:51:00.000-08:00

I have been noticing a trend on the inter-webs lately where women will post pictures of there husbands doing something nice for their children. On the surface this seems nice and sweet, but below that it screams of a joy at the man finally doing "something" for their child. I can't help my first impression to these photos and anecdotes being confusion.

I know I am in an unusual situation with my husband being a stay-at-home father, but still. Nothing he does for our child is a surprise or something that should be praised because he is just being a father. I don't expect high praise for changing Little Man's diaper or giving him a bath. And the best part is that Mr. Neruda doesn't either. We just trade off on jobs with little to no discussion because we both fully assume that we will be pulling our weight.

The cool part about Mr. Neruda is that he takes care of Little Man by day and by night he becomes either a TA, philosophical doctorate student, or security guard. Those are the things that he should be applauded for.

Here's some logic* for you. For all things x, if x is a father then there exists a y such that y is care of a child and y is equal to x.

* The real reason to praise my darling husband is because I decided to better myself by learning something that doesn't come easily to me, logic, and his response was to get excited about the opportunity to teach me instead of saying he doesn't want to because he does it all day as work. He's cute.

Breastmilk Rules!!!!!!!!!!!

2011-11-15T11:08:00.000-08:00

This article is very interesting. It says that there are stem cells in breast milk and that scientists are hoping to start using those cells in their stem cell research and get the embryo nay-sayers off their backs. But what struck me the most from the article is that, sheesh, breast milk is awesome! I know there are some women who just really can't breastfeed and that is sad and fine. But if you can, it really does seem best on SO many levels.

It seems like most working moms are formula feeders and in some sense that makes sense. Pumping in my work place's bathroom 2-3 times a day really does suck. However, I really don't understand how these women are able to give up the bonding that happens when you breastfeed. That is what makes me able to stand going to work, that I get this beautiful bonding time with my child that non of his other care-givers get. That he is my boy and that we snuggle up and just be with one another for a few minutes each day. It makes my heart feel better. And gives him some great nutrition!

That's what she said

2011-11-13T15:41:00.000-08:00

I really want Little Man to learn to say That's what she said. I am constantly staggered by the things that come out of my mouth when I am with him and I feel like he is really letting a lot of great wording go to waste.

For example, a couple days ago he was playing with the door jam and I told him, "Huxley, not in your mouth, but you can flick it if you want." Seriously?!?!?! He is letting a lot of gems go. Sad really.

Breaking news

2011-11-11T14:22:00.000-08:00

This just in, I will be spending the entire month of March in Australia . . . FOR FREE!!!!!! That's right, I applied with the Rotary club for their annual cross-cultural business trip where they have an employee exchange program of sorts. Every year a country is chosen like Denmark, France, Australia, etc and a group comes from their country to ours and gives presentations and learns about us and then we send a group over to do the same. Well friends, I am in that group, along with one of my best friends, and we are going to rock Australia.

We will be based in Sydney and will get to go around all over the SE quadrant of the country. The only problem is that the Great Barrier Reef is in the NE quadrant. Our mission is to find time to sneak away and high-tail it up the coast, dive the reef and race back for our duties. I feel good about accomplishing this.

Also, we are getting matching Australian tattoos.

AUSTRALIA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Dashed dreams

2011-08-29T09:44:00.000-07:00

My longtime dream of shaving my head will not come to fruition because I fear my head will be covered in itchy, red ingrown hairs.

Lemonade

2011-08-28T09:26:00.000-07:00

I have found that when life gives you breastmilk, you should make lemonade.

Case in point, I have to take my stupid pumping crap everywhere I go so I can pump the milk rather than explode. This always makes me feel like a bag-lady. It is hard to get dressy and feel sexy when you are hauling around three bags. However, I recently learned at the movies that there is a benefit to all that.

I am sticking to caffine free soda until I am done breastfeeding and movie theaters have a crap selection of drinks for my delicate palate. I have taken to sneaking my own can of caffine free diet coke in whenever I go. However, on these hot, hot days my cans either sweat all over my purse or are hot when the movie starts and there is a loud enough scene for me to open it.

Solution: I simply take out one of my bottles from the little ice chest bag I carry around to keep my milk cold and replace it with my can. If asked what is in the bag (which I am dying for some poor 17 year-old to do) I will simply whip out my breast milk and explain exactly why I have the bag and what it's contents are. Then saunter down the theater aisle to my seat where I then drink my illegal bounty.

Mwahahahahhahahaha.

Confession

2011-08-26T11:04:00.000-07:00

I am sad to admit that I don't know much about the Suffragettes. I know they got women the vote and were pretty cool ladies, but that is about all.

I watched the documentary Gloria last night which is about Gloria Steinem. It was a very good flick, but it shamed me with all the knowledge I don't have about those times. I know there is a quote by Susan B Anthony, "our job is not to make women grateful but to make them ungrateful." So go me there, I am apparently quite ungrateful about the whole thing since I completely take it for granted.

However, the doc gave me chills and brought tears to my eyes when it went through all the things women did to gain equality. All the words, images, and ridicule that were thrown in their faces and how they continued to power through it all. Amazing. I almost weep for being born after that maelstrom since I will never get to be a part of such an amazing, empowering, and painful movement.

I have vowed to educate myself on both movements so that I may honor their hard work and hopefully better appreciate the freedom I have and see the flaws that still exist. I want to make those ladies proud.

America loves women

2011-08-22T17:35:00.000-07:00

Disturbing fact: Corporations are people, or at least have the same legal rights as people. This is nothing new. This has been discussed exhaustively.

What hasn’t been discussed is disturbing fact number two: Corporations gained personhood about a year before women could vote.

What the fuck? I officially feel more demeaned than I have in a long time.

Fear a day

2011-08-21T07:42:00.000-07:00

I just started a book, My Year with Eleanor, a memoir about a woman who loses her job and decides to follow Eleanor Roosevelt's advice about doing one thing you fear a day. The book follows her trying to live that for a whole year. This is right up my alley. I love beating my own fears and pushing myself as far as I can go.

As I began reading something odd occurred to me. I will never be able to not live that way again. Parenthood has changed everything. When I discovered my pregnancy I decided to view the whole process that way. The labor and birth will of course be scary, as will my reaction to my child, but then I will be a parent and that is done.

Not so. Parenthood is one steady stream of fear. Obviously his first few weeks into the world were scary, that is to be expected. But the fear never abates. Every time I leave him with someone else it is a little scary. Potty training scares me. The entire age range of 2-4 really does scare me. His school years scare me with all the possible bullying, pain that can be caused by other children, his own personal failures and school shootings. Him traveling anywhere without me. Sleepovers. Snow skiing, river rafting, doing anything physical where he could possibly die. When he begins riding his bike away from me by himself. Driving. College. Getting to the point when I can't reasonably expect to have him check in once a day so I know he is alive, like around 30 or so.

The fact that he exists fills my life with fear. Therefore doing something each day that scares me is really not too tall of an order. In the book the woman resorts to swimming with sharks and skydiving. I simply need to put my child in his crib at night and then leave him for eight hours straight with SIDS creepy over his shoulder.

Thank you Eleanor for making this process seem healthy and fulfilling. At least I am going to start thinking of it that way instead of the highly neurotic way I currently have.

My best friend

2011-08-17T07:48:00.000-07:00

I have decided to make Emma Stone my new best friend. The details on how to do that are a little sketchy at the moment, I only know I must.

She is quoted in Entertainment Weekly as saying about a stunt gone wrong on set:

I spider-monkeyed onto Ryan's head and wrapped my body around him and kicked him in the throat and started to cry.

Anyone who not only freaks out like that, but then describes it like should be my friend. Also, anyone who is like Olive in Easy A or who acts like Olive should be my friend.

Now on to the how question!

Renaissance

2011-08-11T14:16:00.000-07:00

I am having my own personal Renaissance and it feels wonderful.

I think it stems from a new found freedom from constant mommy duties or it could be something completely different but whatever it is I am loving it.

I have started painting again, three completed pictures and one more in mind for sure. I have started reading actual books again. I have also started writing and thinking and dreaming up new projects again. I find I have a new energy about things. I am constantly humming with new ideas for creation. I think I am driving Mr. Neruda a little crazy actually. He is happy about my personal projects but my inspiration does not stop there, it extends to joint projects and he isn’t exactly in the same place as me at the same time as me so . . .

Anyhoo, I am feeling more fulfilled with my time and self value. Gone are the days of working all day, caring for the baby and then vegging in-front of the TV until I exhaustedly fall into bed. Even if my time is spent in a hot bath it is not wasted time. I read a real book in there. I plan my new projects. I listen to new music that I missed .

My emaciated soul is soaking in this Renaissance with glee. Too long have I let myself go without everything that is interesting about life. I haven’t challenged myself in months. However, now I am challenging myself physically, intellectually and emotionally and I feel whole again.

My future library

2011-08-11T12:50:00.000-07:00

Balance

2011-08-10T13:26:00.000-07:00

I think I have finally found a balance in my life. After Little Man was born my life in a vacuum began. It is difficult to get a babysitter, sure, but there is more to it. It is hard to want one or to not feel bad about getting one. Being a working mom it is hard to give up time with Little Man when I see him a whopping two hours a day on weekdays. To give up those two hours for something, anything, is really hard. During the weekends it is a little easier to part with him but scheduling anything during the week is horrible whether it be girls’ night out, exercise, major home projects, movie, shopping, etc. It was especially hard right after I went back to work and he began to forget about me by the time Friday rolled around. I just wasn’t in his life much. He was never rude or cried when I picked him up, he just didn’t seem to care or recognize me more than anyone else. And to compare his response to me with his response to Mr. Neruda, giant grins, squeals, etc, it was heartbreaking (though wonderful that he loves his father).

However, he has started a new schedule and I feel like we have now gotten to know one another well enough for him to understand who I am. He likes me as much as his dad now, sometimes more. But what has made a huge impact on my life is his sleeping schedule. He routinely goes down at 7:30-8:30 and sleeps through the night until 6-7:30. It is wonderful! When I come home I have concentrated Hux time until his bedtime. This includes nursing twice, bath time, play time, singing, dancing, reading books, piano and guitar playing, etc. Then I rock him to sleep (hopefully) once and that is the end of that. We bond, we play, we enjoy one another. And then mommy gets woman time. I am still on call, as I will be for the rest of my life, if he is sick or something is amiss. But mostly I am guaranteed uninterrupted non-baby time. Sure sometimes that time includes laundry and dishes and other crap but it also includes hot baths, painting, reading, husband time, exercise, the list is extensive. And I love it.

I love that I can balance the different aspects of my life now. If I want to meet someone for dinner or run an errand I can guilt-free do at 730 or 8. I can go to the Y and swim with no problem once he is down. I can indulge in hobbies other than pumping and baby care (my two main hobbies currently). I can live.

This has rejuvenated my life in so many ways. And I sigh a calming yoga sigh of relief (I can do that now because I can finally take the class and have learned how!).

Go China go!

2011-07-29T07:55:00.001-07:00

This article excites me for China and mankind even though the situation is terrible.

Wonderful award

2011-07-27T11:18:00.000-07:00

This cracks me up. I love awards like this.

I am woman

2011-07-12T18:46:00.000-07:00

My birthday is looming, moving me closer and closer to thirty. This really isn't something that bothers me. I don't really fear age, I only fear not owning my age well. I hope to age gracefully gaining wisdom, experiences, and a lack of wrinkles. I think I feel settled adding a year to my life because I feel 28, in a good way. I have a baby, a husband, a career, a second-glorious home, etc. These are things I think I should have at this age and am proud of them. I sometimes don't feel my age and am shocked that I have all these things, however, when I say the number 28 out loud it makes perfect since that this things have accumalated.

And with this age has come a certain amount of wisdom. When I was a kid I hated the fact that I was a girl. The only way I felt I could be happy and successful was to act as boyish as it was possible and look as not girlish as I could. I felt that since my insides were so fun and active, my outsides couldn't be girly or it would ruin everything.

Then, as I got older I felt that I was selling out to adulthood if I dressed girly-ish and that people wouldn't know the real me inside because the outside me would look so different. However, this year I have had a realization. I have slowly started dressing nicely, wearing real make-up, matching my purse to my outfits, etc. And it has made me feel pretty and poised. Poise and presence are things I aspire to in adulthood.

I have realized that I want to look nice. I want to wear pretty, frilly dresses, business suits, make-up, heels, product in my hair, etc. I want to so I will be respected in my career, because I feel better about myself and more mature and because I weirdly want to be feminine for my son so he will be proud of me. But the real eureka moment came when I realized that this new desire in me in no way takes away from my inner self.

Just because I wear a frilly dress one day does not mean that I quit being a first degree black belt in tae kwon do. Walking around in high heels doesn't mean that I never packed parachutes or went sky diving. In fact, I think I am more kick-ass because I can do both. I am still an awesome world traveler since I know that I should choose tennis shoes while catching a train in France, even though I now choose heels for work or a night out.

With my maturity has come an understanding that to be an awesome, happy woman is to except all of my womanhood. That means that I can strive to be pretty, read literature and make "that's what she said jokes" all at the same time. I can cry at movies now without any regret because I understand that crying while female does not mean I am weak but that I now have so much more to love and lose in my life which allows me to empathize with storylines in a way I never could before.

At the age of almost-28 I can now embrace all the caveates of my womanhood and I wouldn't trade one wrinkle or stretchmark for that knowledge.

Decadent evening for one

2011-07-05T21:03:00.000-07:00

Mr. Neruda and I decided to sell our house and buy a new one while having an infant. The new house came with quite a few quirks, so many so that we are still working on the place over a month after moving in. I will say that Little Man sure doesn't speed things up much.

One of the reasons we chose this house is because of the magnificent bathtub in the master bathroom. I have a thing for baths. I like them very much. However, the faucet needed fixing on the tub and it has been off limits to me . . . until tonight.

Tonight was the night of decadence. And I did it up right. I did every single thing I could think of to pamper myself. I nursed my baby and put him down for the night. That bought me three hours, which I could push to four before needing to pump, so I actually had a small glass of wine. If you are in the camp of thinking nursing moms shouldn't drink at all, so am I. However, I think we should all be happy that I didn't partake of my drink of choice, scotch, and that I stuck to wine. I had the largest brownie I could cut from the pan without actually taking the whole pan with me. I ran the water hot, added lavendar sea salt, and lit a candle.

I read for an entire 45 minutes straight. That is something that has been unheard-of lately. I rubbed my kioske expensive dead sea salt stuff all over me (I love kioske stuff. You can usually fine great deals and they have cool stuff like neat sheets, and hot irons, and ointments.). I then lathered myself with my fancy lotion and chilled out to some Fleet Foxes.

It was a dream. I haven't felt so care free and fancy in a long time. Eventhough I can never stop being a mom and am always on-call, I took a much needed hiatus from my duties and lived a selfish, decadent moment. Amen.

Sexy characters

2011-06-30T10:34:00.000-07:00

I recently began a discussion with my fellow nerd-friends about which fictional characters they would most like to boink. Hilarity ensued along with a nice list for myself. My list is:

Jamie Fraser - Outlander by Diana Gabaldon
Mr. Darcy - Pride and Prejudice by Jane Austen
Eric Northman - Sookie Stackhouse Series by Charlaine Harris
Josef Kavalier - The Amazing Adventures of Kavalier and Clay by Michael Chabon
Edmond Dantes - The Count of Monte Cristo by Alexander Dumas
Faramir and Aragorn - Lord of the Rings by JRR Tolkien
Sirius Black - Harry Potter by JK Rowling
Jon Snow - Game of Thrones by George RR Martin
Death - The Book Thief by Markus Zusak

Apocalypse soon . . . a plan

2011-06-29T14:39:00.000-07:00

For some reason I constantly feel the need to think about and plan for the (must be) coming apocalypse. I have no idea in what form it will take, nuclear, zombie, religious, global warming, something else even worse. Anyways, it will be bad and it will take a plan.

I recently watched Skyline and came to a conclusion for how to survive. I must find the most attractive brunette female with a moral compass, preferably with a love interest and then do whatever she wants and follow her wherever she goes. Most men, especially black, Hispanic, Asian, and Native American should be avoided at all cost, unless they would like to come along and be killed before me by either saving me or by just being in the right place at the right time. I also need to avoid all bitchy, slutty blonde girls. They will last for a while, but won’t make it until the end.

Pretty much, if anything extreme begins to happen I will immediately default to believing I am in a movie and will begin to behave accordingly to be able to make it to the end and survive. I really see no other logical way to approach such a situation.

Hipster fun

2011-06-28T20:52:00.000-07:00

If you have ever wanted to see the Lord of the Rings characters as hipsters you should check out this site.

Hey, Sunny!

2011-06-17T09:41:00.000-07:00

How have I never heard of this before? I love space stuff, and I knew there were Sun storms and what-not, but I had no idea they had this kind of effect. We are truly all going to die soon, suddenly, and painfully.

You've seen this, but have you heard it?

2011-06-15T09:52:00.001-07:00

I know Go the F@ck to Sleep is old news, but have you heard Samuel L Jackson read it yet?

Lovely.

The Good Earth

2011-05-09T14:47:00.001-07:00

My favorite quote from The Good Earth by Pearl S Buck so far:

In reference to a 15 year old girl who actually left her house a few times "Whoever heard of a bitch-dog who was allowed on the streets who did not give birth to a litter" (60).

Oh world, I was born at the wrong time. Girls had it so easy back then.

Huxhill

2011-05-05T09:44:00.000-07:00

Since everyone keeps telling me that my child looks like Winston Churchill I have decide to start a series of Huxhill photos. The first enstallment is below:

Customer Service

2011-05-03T09:57:00.000-07:00

So, here’s the thing about my job, I see a lot of people with issues. All kinds of issues: hygienic, rude, intelligence, taste, child-rearing, mental, maturity, etc. My first impulse was to be turned off from these people and get mad at them for behaving the way that they do. However, I then began to notice a trend. Those certain people would come in with their parents, children, siblings, grandparents or spouses and I would notice certain things. Some of the groups had three generations of rude, un-hygienic people. Some children who were hateful and disrespectful would come in a third time with their parents and the parents would treat me worse. I began to see that this had a lot to do with the way people were raised. In my mind, I can’t understand why being poor means you can’t bathe or brush your teeth. I completely understand that wearing nice clothes or clothes that were spotless is out of reach for them, but a toothbrush and toothpaste can be found at the dollar store and lasts for a long time. On the flip side, I don’t understand why being rich means you can’t have manners and treats others respectfully. You would think they would have enough money to feel happy and well-cared for and then turn that on others. However, some things that I value are simply not taught in other homes. Period. When I see three generations of people behaving in the same, unseemly way I begin to wonder if I can really blame the youngest for sure, but really any of them?

It makes me suddenly realize how important my actions and what I teach are. I was raised to never question certain things. We always have hygiene, we say please and thank you, we wear clean clothes, we walk with our shoulders back and smile at others. That isn’t to say that if I am sick on Saturday I may not wake up and brush my teeth or take a shower, I will probably just lay around moaning and demanding service from my husband. But day to day I do these things without question and I assume the majority of others will also.

My goal is to engrain even more things into my child’s head. We never recycled at my house growing up, that is something I learned in college and it is something that I have to constantly think about and get myself to do instead of being lazy. I hope that he sees it constantly and never thinks about it. The same goes for volunteering to help others, gardening, eating healthy and fresh, etc. Mr. Neruda and I have talked about making a list of things we want to make ourselves do religiously so that it will come more naturally for him.

I still find it difficult to deal with those people who ooze with issues. Sometimes the smell of them, or the abusive way they treat me makes it impossible to give them good service and not think ill of them. But I think I need to consider the issue a little more closely and just be thankful I was raised the way I was and consider some of their negative traits as things they don’t try to do, but have just been taught to do.

HP Awesomeness

2011-04-28T10:33:00.000-07:00

Here is a link to the new Harry Potter movie, and if I do say so myself, it looks AWESOME!

Also, we just bought a house and it is the one we wanted A LOT! So this is a nice day so far =).

Sexy tots

2011-04-27T10:32:00.000-07:00

Here's an article from CNN about how sexy our little girls are getting. I must say I agree with most of what he said. Working in schools and the library I see so many girls dressed inappropriately. Some are with their other inappropriate friends and some are with their inappropriate moms, which explains a lot. But some are with their moms who are dressed like a grandma. Those I really don't understand.

Now that I am a mom, I have started thinking about my dress and where I shop. I am a professional business woman, mom and twenty-something. I have a difficult balance to strike between looking like an idiotic fifty-something out of the 1940s and looking like I belong on a college campus prowling for a lay. Sadly, my size makes it easier to buy the trampy things more than the appropriate things.

I want to look stylish, young and hip, but also appropriate for my business place and to be someone's mom. Though I take care of my body and think it is pretty decent to look at, the fact is that I am not on the prowl for a lay. When I am I put something lacy and indecent on at home and pose seductively until my husband notices (or actually I wear a bathrobe or pjs or something and say, "Hey, you want some?"). So, if I am not prowling, and I would like my son to respect women, then mighten I dress not like a tramp?

I wish a few more moms would take this approach. Or at least tell their 8 year-olds that they are an adult and the dress is different so pick the shorts that go to their knees, the sweats with no writing on the ass, and the shirt that loosely covers their whole torso. I hate feeling like a skeezy person because I glance at an elementary student and see club clothes that scream fuck me.

Breaking news

2011-04-19T10:40:00.000-07:00

This just in: The Neruda's first house just sold. One Neruda is quoted as saying about the sale, "We are just ecstatic. It felt like a long time coming, but now that it is finally here . . . well, surreal is how I would describe it. It is just fabulous. Oh, I think I'm going to cry .. . . (blows nose)."

The closing date is May 25th, the other house is in talks for purchase now, and any friends and family who would like to help them move will be welcomed by the happy family.

Pulitzer Day!!!!!!!!

2011-04-18T12:20:00.000-07:00

I LOVE PULITZER DAY!!!!!!!!!! And that day is today.

This is the first year that I have already read the ficiton winner.

And the winner is: A Visit from the Goon Squad by Jennifer Egan.

I literally just finished that book about three days ago. I thought it was fine through the first part and then about half way through I became seriously hooked. The way she weaved all those separate stories together was impressive. It was almost a book of short stories, but not quite.

Other winners:

Poetry: "The Best of It: New and Selected Poems" by Kay Ryan (which I've had by my bed for the past two weeks or so. I got to listen to her speak and it was a great experience.)

Nonfiction: "The Emperor of All Maladies: A Biography of Cancer" by Siddhartha Mukherjee (sadly haven't read, but have thought about it, and read the Henrietta Lacks book which is similar it seems)

Those are the main ones I care about. I usually look at the journalists to see if I recognize a name or anything, and I want to care about the drama, history, and biography, but I am usually just kidding myself.

Geeky wrath

2011-04-15T09:25:00.000-07:00

So, I just read a review of The Game of Thrones TV series that is on HBO, in the New York Times. And it was awful. It has angered me, a lot, for many reasons. Some of these reasons are that the article implies that I can't like fantasy without there being erotic scenes because I am a woman. It also implies that something like this show is too complicated for me to follow so I should stick to reruns of Sex and the City, because I am a woman. It is a terribly done review where it mentions next to nothing about the show itself, like characters and plot, etc and it implies that there are dwarfs in the show a la Lord of the Rings. There are not. There is a dwarf, who is a small person like what we have in reality.

As a woman and a major fan of the series I am greatly offended. But as a person who can string words and ideas together, and who writes reviews, I am also offended.

Also, it was written by a woman strangely enough. A woman who I believe has never actually seen the show, has definitely never read even the back cover of the book, and who probably harbors some weird hatred of fantasy lit in general. I bet she wasn't cool enough to play D&D in high school and this is her way of getting back.

All grown-up

2011-04-14T13:15:00.000-07:00

It has finally happened. I am a full-grown, all-the-time adult. For one, I haven't felt young for a while now but I also haven't felt adult-like, just somewhere in the middle at a transitional spot.

But I now feel like I have transitioned. Yesterday I went to my first school visit of the Summer Reading Program season. It was an all day event where I spoke to a group of kids every class period. Therefore, I was faced with a lot of chitchat time with the school media specialists and teachers. That part of the job normally makes me very nervous and is pretty miserable for me. I hate needing to carry conversations with people I don't know. But yesterday I had zero problems.

Topics we spoke about:

* Selling a house
* Buying a house
* Realators in general and whether they are needed
* Home repair
* Shuttling children around to their events
* Breastfeeding
* Babies
* Saving money to travel for family vacations
* Airplane crashes
* Insurance
* Immaturity of Freshman
* Fellow librarians that we all know in our business network
* Job hunting
* Good neighborhoods and schools for children
* Problem with finding a Branch Manager
* Problem with awful co-workers

I know there were more things and I know none of them had anything to do with my love of Buffy the Vampire Slayer or my favorite new band. The weirdest part about this is that I had a lot to contribute to these conversations and actually became quite involved in them. I even gave advise to one of the ladies about pumping at work and which bottles and nipples were best for breastfeeding babies because her daughter had just had a baby and was about to return to work while breastfeeding.

I don't know what has become of me. I don't really mind it though. I really am interested in all these new topics and they all take up a large part of my mind right now.

However, I am still me. I just painted my toenails purple and am finally watching the TV show Battlestar Galatica. Under my professional clothes, spit-up stains, real jewelry, finacial woes, major life choices, etc is still the nugget of me that has been there since birth.

I wonder what Little Man's nugget is like?

Weird veggie

2011-04-12T11:12:00.000-07:00

Mommy eats asparagus + mommy nurses baby = baby asparagus poo

What an odd yet delicious veggie.

My favorite church sign

2011-04-11T11:10:00.000-07:00

I pass a church sign everyday on my way to work. I always look forward to the ridiculous things that it puts up. Today was the best yet:

"Treat your wife like a Thoroughbred and she won't be a nag."

Take heart all, take heart.

1st Race, for real this time

2011-04-10T19:17:00.000-07:00

Today marked a very special occasion. One that I am thrilled about and hope is the beginning of something beautiful.

Little Man's first race!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Technically, I ran the Koman Run when I was 6 months pregnant and did count that as his first race, but this time he was breathing oxygen and wearing a bib number and everything so this is probably his first one. I actually made his bib myself because I didn't think it fair for him to not have one in his first race. And because I thought it was hilarious and adorable.

It was beautiful. The weather was great, we were all in good spirits, and I ran into my boss as she was doing the 5K. Little Man could not have been a better sport. We got there, picked up our packets and all, breastfed (on a windy day outside which was a challenge) and then lined up for the race. By the time we were lined up he had fallen asleep. However, it turns out that he is one heck of a trainer. I had to stop twice to walk and every time I did he began to stir and stretch and I wasn't sure how well he would do awake so off I would go running again. Then we end with another awkward feeding session and a blow out diaper. However, through every single thing he was all smiles and contentment. He just let us manipulate him anyway we wanted and just went with the flow. As long as milk was in his tummy he was good to go. I just love him and his laid back nature. He is fabulous!

In my defense to walking, this was my first real running exertion since labor, or actually a few months before that. I have only been allowed to exercise for 3 weeks now and had a c-section, so I feel I did pretty well. I did finish third, which was annoying since I was in the Stroller Derby but the two in front both had 1 and 2 year olds which means they have been running a lot longer than myself.

One highlight of the afternoon was at the end of the run when I was racing uphill and feeling pretty weak. A man ran past me and shouted out, "Way to run, Mom. Good job!" I am not sure why but that made me feel amazing. It was a kind of validation for where I am in my life right now and for how uphill my running regimen really is. This is not the easiest thing to come back from, though it is possible. It is just nice to have other runners acknowledging that I am not this puny because I am weak and pathetic, but because my abs were cut through and I carried a whole nother person inside me for 9 months.

Distractions

2011-04-06T19:59:00.001-07:00

Oklahoma,

A large, electronic road sign above the highway flashing multiple screens of words about eliminating distractions to drive safely through work zones for road construction crew safety week IS a distraction.

Just thought you might want to know.

Emotional mommy

2011-04-05T15:51:00.000-07:00

I have started reading Kelly Oxford's blog. She has quite a few hilarious things to read. However, I was struck by one of the things she said about crying.

When I was a kid I’d see my Mom crying during a movie and I’d think,
“How embarrassing. She has issues!”
In retrospect, I was simply lacking life experience, so the movie couldn’t draw any emotion out of me.
Example: Salinger and I watched “My Sister’s Keeper”
I went to the bathroom four times to keep her from seeing me crying, but she didn’t cry at all… because she doesn’t understand pain or loss or girls’ movies… yet.

That was absolutely me when I was younger, and is really still me now. However, since I have begun getting so weepy I have started getting terrified of becoming That woman. Ugh. But after reading that blog post I started thinking about it differently. I apparently have A LOT to draw from now.

Parent fail #4 and #5

2011-04-05T15:41:00.000-07:00

Parent fail #4: Letting his nails get so long that he scratches his nose. They just grow ridiculously fast!

Parent fail #5: Eating brussle sprouts and then feeding him my milk. The dude has some painful gas, and so did the mom.

2011-04-04T15:48:00.000-07:00

Just chilling with his dog. And the dog was A-okay with it.

Medieval times

2011-04-03T15:24:00.000-07:00

The Medieval Fair was this weekend and we couldn't miss it. This is something we love and look forward to all year long. Since Mr. Neruda and I both have cloaks, I thought it would be just rude to not include Little Man.

I decided to make it myself, without a pattern. It turned out surprisingly well, though the hood could have been a bit larger.

Again he began fussy and needed a snack while we were there. I found a new, wonderful use for cloaks. They work great as nursing covers. Really well. I am considering wearing one everywhere now.

We got so many double takes and shouts of love towards the cloak and our Little Man. It was really fun. The best part was a woman we see every year. She sells great jewelry that I always get. A few years ago she started recognizing us and it was really fun. This time we had a long talk about babies and how they are trying to get pregnant and how cute our child is, etc. After we bought my new bracelet and earrings we walked away. We were a little ways away when she caught up to us and gave us a free jade charm of a rabbit, for this is the year of the rabbit. It was amazing.

The cloak ended up coming in handy because the day was so windy and sunny that we needed a blanket to cover him up. The cloak is simply a glorified blanket so it worked perfectly.

Huxley, meet Atwood

2011-04-02T20:48:00.001-07:00

Thursday night, the fam and I loaded up in the car and went to Chickasha to see Margaret Atwood speak at USAO. For one thing, Mr. Neruda and I love Atwood a lot. Second, we wanted to start Little Man out early with literature and author visits.

Overall it was fun. She was incredibly monotoned yet still was able to pull off a ton of laughs. I also really enjoyed how she handled the questions at the end. She had no trouble making people feel like morons when they asked stupid questions, which I really enjoyed watching. Because a lot of those questions were REALLY stupid and basically well organized ways of trying to show off.

Little Man didn't enjoy it as much as I had hoped he would. He was a bit fussy and I spent the first part pacing back and forth in the back, patting his back. Then he decided he wanted a meal so I breast fed him in the back. I really don't know what is socially acceptable but I do know that I didn't want to miss her talk after driving all that way just because he was hungry. Oh well.

I wanted to capture the moment since Little Man was in his cute, collegiate cardigan. After the talk, she sat at the front and signed books. There was no way we wanted to be in that big, long line. So instead we ran up front and captured the moment.

If you will notice, she has no idea that we are taking the picture. We ran up front, squatted in front of her quickly and snapped the pic. We were laughed at by many in the audience. Whether it was our ridiculousness or Little Man's adorableness I don't know.

Here is a better look at his cardigan and adorableness.

Oyi

2011-04-01T14:29:00.000-07:00

So, the Brontes are now so big that I can not cross my arms like a normal person. I have to either cross them really high and keep them above the Brontes, which makes me look like a petulant child. Or I can cross them really low under my new enormous ladies where my arms don't actually cross as much as overlap a little, which makes me look like a scared and awkward virgin.

Neither are pleasing which sucks because I use to cross my arms a lot.

The good news is my naming them seems to be working well and made this post a lot more fun to write!

The Brontes

2011-03-27T14:17:00.000-07:00

I find myself discussing my breasts a lot these days. Mostly with my son and husband but also with others who wish to know how the breast feeding is going and who wish to commiserate about their own motherhood experiences. It is because of this that I felt they needed names so that it would be more fun to talk about them as well as their being slightly in code when being spoken about in public.

I at first thought Batman and Robin would be fun because I love them and wanted my breasts to be able to fight crime, as alluded to in a previous post. However, I then came to the conclusion that they ought to be female. It just makes since. So then I considered Catwoman and Batgirl or something heroic, but they just don't have the same combo effect that B & R do. Thelma and Louise were top contenders since they are spunky and attractive. However, they seem such an obvious choice for something like this and I didn't want my boobs to be obvious and mundane.

Then it came to me, The Brontes. Emily and Charlotte are a lovely choice. They were spunky, literate, a natural combo and look how attractive. Why shouldn't my boobs be represented by attractive and kind of successful women (meaning during their own time, not in general)?

So there you have it folks, my breasts will hence forth be referred to as The Brontes, respectively.

Breast feeding adventures

2011-03-26T13:41:00.000-07:00

Well, I had my first public breast feeding event. I have fed him outside of the house on multiple occasions before this, we were just always in the car. The car can be awkward enough, especially on the OU campus with college guys walking past the window peeking in, but it was nothing like being in a store.

Some friends of ours, the amazing Fortneys, were playing at Full Circle on Friday night. We decided to make it Little Man's first concert and went. Inevitably, Little Man needed one of his many hobbit meals in the middle of the fun.

There was no way I was taking my child into the 50 Penn Place bathroom to eat. For a hoity-toity establishment their bathroom is the most disgusting thing known to man. I also didn't want to just leave the building so I decided to find a nice, out-of-way spot in the store and just feed him.

Now I remembered there being quite a few chairs really poked into secluded corners in that store. And my memory turned out to be quite faulty. There are some chairs in "corners" but none are that secluded. Then I thought I would just use the chair in the kid's book room because, hey, even if I am a little in the open people who come into that room shouldn't mind my actions. However, that chair is directly in front of the check-out counter and there were two employees just hanging out there. I felt that was awkward.

Now, as I cruised around the store looking for the prime nursing location I hadn't really realized just how many times I had lapped the store. Apparently it was enough to make me seem like a shop lifter because on my third time past one of the store employees started up a weirdly forced yet tenacious conversation. I mostly just wanted to get away from him and quit talking about whatever the hell he was trying to talk to me about since it was weird and I felt pretty awkward about what I was trying to do anyways, but I also didn't want my fleeing to look more questionable. It also didn't help that I had a book shoved into my purse that was a library copy, but the telling bar code was not overly apparent and it probably looked dodgy.

I finally decided on a bench in the back that faced the back wall in the biography and history section. Once we got all settled an older gentleman came walking around the corner angling towards the history area. He took one look at us, or really just me with a bright green blanket draped across me, and stutter stepped back eventually just backing out of the room all together. I wondered about whether I scared him or he just was in the wrong place until he hesitantly peaked around the corner nonchalantly and then disappeared a couple times before just walking back in with his eyes cast downward until he got right in front of the book shelves he wanted. This made me feel a little bad.

Little Man got half done and needed a diaper change. So we loaded our stuff up and went back to the cafe area where the fun was. I had felt pretty left out and a little bad that I had been thought a thief and made a man incredibly uncomfortable. So after Little Man got his pants changed and passed around a little I decided to stay amongst the fun and just nurse him on the floor slightly under a table. Though I did get to listen to music more that way everyone kept their eyes off of me, no one talked with me, and Mr. Neruda actually got up and moved away from me (to film something a table over, but it was still bad timing). I don't blame anyone. It is an extremely awkward thing and it seems a lot of people assume I don't want to be looked at as much as they don't want to look.

It seems that no matter the circumstances, nursing is always going to be a lonely job. It's sad because I don't want to make people uncomfortable but I also don't always like to hide myself in a back room or corner and miss out on all the fun. I mean, I am not out to show off my bosom to everyone or anything. I make sure to completely cover myself. However, the nature of the action is that it makes everyone think about my boobs which is fairly odd.

I am not sure there is a solution to this whole thing. I think I just have a long 10 months ahead of me.

Religion?

2011-03-25T07:37:00.000-07:00

New reason to not go to church?

Mental Post-partum Me

2011-03-23T12:22:00.000-07:00

Wow did I have the oddest reaction to a book recently. I am reading The Immortal Life of Henrietta Lacks and was quite surprised by the turn it took. I obviously knew it was the background of the woman whose cells live on and on so science can have its way with them. I didn’t know that it would follow the horrible turn her children’s lives took. Frankly, there is A LOT of abuse going on.

Now here is where the weirdness took place. I have read a lot of books that dealt with abuse and violence and all kinds of dodgy stuff. Hell, serial killer books use to be my favorite. That was, apparently, before I had a baby. See, I read and watched things like that while pregnant and it had no effect on me. But when I was reading a scene in this book *spoiler alert* where her daughter is constantly molested and raped by her uncle and one of her sons is abused a la A Child Called It I about went ape shit. I was listening to the audio in my car and about ripped the steering wheel off my dash. I am pretty sure my blood pressure went through the roof and I was shaking. I just kept thinking, just try that on my son I dare you, just try it! I mean, I was so upset for the characters in the story, especially since it is all true, but I also couldn’t stop relating it to my own son.

Now this worries me because I did enjoy on a certain level reading and watching disturbing things like that, especially true stories, before my child arrived. I am now concerned that I will never be able to read or watch them again. I don’t enjoy crying so I don’t want to read and watch them to cry and be an incredibly stereotypical mother, but I also don’t want to turn into a person who ignores all bad in the world because it hurts so much. I truly hope that this is still a hormonal problem with me and that once all that is out of my system, especially after I’m done breast feeding, I will be normal again. However, I fear mental damage was done along with the physical damage and that I will never be Me again, only the shell of Me as Post-partum Me.

Suck.

A pass!

2011-03-20T15:10:00.000-07:00

It finally happened, my doctor gave me a pass to do whatever I want. We are talking exercise, sex, heavy lifting, whatever I care to do! And I care to do a great deal!

The problem is I was slightly naive about how this would go down. I thought it would go Me, Pregnant Me, Me. However, it doesn't. It now goes Me, Pregnant Me, Post-Pregnant Me. I didn't see that last one coming. Post-Pregnant Me is a lot different than Me. Different in ways that I am not sure will ever change.

For one thing I am now a two sports bra woman. I never thought that would happen. It isn't just that they are bigger but that they jiggle in a weird way and they feel EVERYTHING. Emily and Charlotte (or The Brontes as I call them) had better go back to the way they were. We had the perfect arrangement before. They were large enough to look nice in clothes but small enough so that they never caused any problems while I was being active. Now . . . well, we aren't each other's best friend right now.

My muscles are also all different. I understand that I haven't used my muscles in about three months so obviously my legs and things are weaker than before. I understand that and was prepared to ease back into things, knowing that I shouldn't start training for my marathon immediately or anything extreme. However, I wasn't suppose to get a c-section so my abs weren't suppose to be in as bad of shape as they are. I worry they will never be back to what they were. My doctor swears that it will all be fine, but I don't know. I am amazed at what they won't do at the moment. I understand that crunches and focused ab work would be hard but I didn't know that anything that uses the core will be thwarted and painful. Running, jumping, sitting up, picking something up from low down, certain dance moves, etc are all painful. It really makes my whole body fill off.

My limberness is also all off. I stretched throughout my whole pregnancy just so I wouldn't lose flexibility. But that is a bit wonky too. I blame a lot of that on my abs though. Except for my groin area, I blame that on my hip movement that happened during the end of pregnancy.

And last, but not least, is my stomach fat. I know, that is where the baby was and it is of course all different now, but seriously. I have never kept weight there and now I have an actual tire around the middle. It is made weirder because my legs and arms are basically their same shape and then my stomach and boobs are all weird. I hate it. I feel like I am horribly disproportionate and my clothes agree. I hope to all that this particular part will go away eventually but I am scared that it will not. I also hate how sensitive my stomach skin is. The part that was at the peak of my stomach and got stretched out the most becomes so painful, especially when my waistband pushes on it for awhile. Ugh.

But, enough whining. The great news is that I exercised for the first time in three months and it was glorious! Just putting on my workout clothes, which I forgot where I had stashed them for a moment, felt great. That very act got me so energetic and excited that I probably could have done a marathon that first time. In fact, it was a little hard to stop the first time because I had so much adrenaline pumping in me but I knew I had to. And the second workout made me feel glad that I did stop myself the day before. I'm not SORE per se, I just feel my muscles better than I have in a while.

All in all I am thrilled to be able to exercise, have sex, etc and start moving towards some kind of normalacy. As the previous post can attest, even the normal things aren't "normal" exactly, but their very acts make me feel better and happier than I have in months! Little Man may be more work outside of me, but I am still so happy to be just one person now.

Victory!

Thwarted

2011-03-19T18:00:00.000-07:00

First postpartum sexual encounter:

As I am getting out of the bath, with the baby asleep, I think now is a fine time for some intimacy. Naked, I sneak into the living room to surprise my lazing around husband on the couch.

As I take off his pants:

Me: Hey stud, am I bothering you?
Mr. Neruda: Ummm, no, no you aren't in anyway.

Kiss, kiss.

Me: Why'd you stop?
Mr. N: We don't have a condom.
Me: What?!?!? Why do we . . . oh yeah, I'm not pregnant anymore.
Mr. N: Yeah, we need something now.
Me: Where were all the ones from before?
Mr. N: I threw them out because they were out of date. You were pregnant for a long time.
Me: WHY DIDN'T YOU GET MORE?
Mr. N: I forgot!
Me: But didn't you go on and on and on and on about how this is the week I get my doctor's pass? About how it is sex week? About how we were going to do it? Are you kidding me?!?!?!
Mr. N: Well. . . I'll go get some! Right now! It won't take long I swear!
Me: By the time you get back our sweet child will probably be awake.
Mr. N: No, no I swear he won't be, just wait. (As he trips around the room trying to put his pants back on. Six weeks is a long time).

It is at this point I would love to make a joke about the scene in Shopgirl where he asks if she has a jiffie bag and they could use that. But then I remember my slumbering angel in the next room and realize that jokes about me getting pregnant six weeks after birth are in no way funny AT ALL and I stifle the urge.

Mr. Neruda exits stage right in a hurry while a resume my after bath hygiene tasks. Then, a frighteningly short time later (seriously, did he drive 90mph and run all stop signs?!?!) he returns with a LARGE smile on his face as he is opening the magical box while trying to fall sexily on the couch.

Me: Don't you think the moment has passed.
Mr N: No.
Me: But at this point I think he really could wake up at any moment and then won't you feel REALLY frustrated?
Mr. N: No, he's fine. He is sleeping hard I'm sure. And you know . . .
Me: Well . . .
Mr. Neruda: (Sultry look with a finger gesture)
Me: Okay.

Kissing commences. Clothes are pulled off. As we are locked in a naked embrace we hear:

Little Man: SQUAWK.
Me: Um . . .
Mr. N: It was nothing.

Kiss, kiss.

LM: Squawk, squawk.
Me: I think he is, maybe . . .
Mr. Neruda: (Stops for a moment) No, I think it is just his sleepy sounds. It's fine.
LM: WAAAAAAWWWWWAAAAAWWWW.
Mr. N: Shit.
Me: Yeah.

Clumsily clothes are pulled on as I stumble to retrieve my Little Man. Frustration ensues until we see Little Man and his adorableness. The smiles and coos helped soothe the terrible ache.

Timing appears to be essential in parent love making. I always heard that but never put much stock into. Oops. What else is true about the horribleness of parenthood?!?!?!

Bright side

2011-03-18T12:23:00.000-07:00

I just completed my second day back at work. It was still sad and difficult to concentrate with the sleep deprivation. However, there is a bright side: not being pregnant.

I didn't really like being pregnant. One reason for this is that I was constantly being watched, commented on, commented to, insulted, annoyed, etc by complete strangers and acquaintances. I couldn't stand it. However, while taking a patron back to the area they needed it dawned on me what was different since coming back to work. No one noticed me. No one felt the need to touch me or comment on my size or tell me their childbearing stories.

What a magical moment to return to my anonymous status. I could walk around as if nothing was special about me. No one knew I had just had a child. No one knew anything about me by just looking. I am no longer a walking billboard of one of the most intimate and life rocking issues of my life. Take that world, no longer am I an open book. I'm shut tight and shall remain so for ages.

I'm a damp, itchy person

2011-03-17T20:16:00.000-07:00

Part II of the wonderment of yeast. Thrush in the baby's mouth. Yeast all over my boobs and within. Seriously, this is miserable. I never thought I would love him suckling my bosom so much, but his suction is the most perfect scratching device. Nothing scratches my sore boobs the way he does which is weird but I am beyond caring.

I am a bit tired of constantly leaking milk and itching all over the place. Ugh. Then, today, my eye started to itch and I panicked that the yeast was in my eye. I am not sure if that is possible, and the eye itch has gone away, but it really freaked me out in the moment.

Parent Fail #1 - #3

2011-03-16T21:31:00.001-07:00

Parent Fail #1 - Put him in his car seat without doing the straps, then driving from point A to point B.

Parent Fail #2 - Squeezing the saline solution bottle to shoot the stuff up his nose when one should allow it to drip in 2 year olds and under.

Parent Fail #3 - Bonking his head on a door frame while walking through the house.

I have decided to keep a running list of our parent fails. I'm not sure why, but it makes me feel better.

First day back

2011-03-15T18:52:00.000-07:00

Today was my first day back to work. It was awfully sad and brought forth great anxiety. It was great to see all my coworkers and to find out all the insane shenanigans that have been going on around that place. I mean, seriously!

Anywho, I missed my Little Man something awful. However, it was bearable. In fact, I was almost completely unable to absorb the entire day. And Little Man is entirely to thank for it. You see, Little Man found himself in the middle of one hell of a growth spurt. This growth spurt included a 5 hour feeding session that could only come from my boobs, the bottle was inferior and cause for a giant fit. The 5 hour feeding session was only interrupted by a few diaper changes and some burping episodes. It was followed by a few hours of extreme fussiness. Then some sleep on his part and then two more feedings. Now you might think, WOW, that must have been miserable. Well, it wasn't the most fun ever. And 45 minutes of sleep before my first adult day wasn't ideal seeming. However, it caused me to go through the day in a kind of surreal haze that I think allowed me to keep my hormones in check and not bawl my way through the library.

I suppose I owe the Little Man a thank you. But I would appreciate a little less activity tonight. Praise all that is holy that growth spurt feeding sessions are followed by long sleeps.

6 years, a celebration

2011-03-14T13:40:00.000-07:00

You know you are advanced in age when your anniversary celebration includes dinner at Irma's and a tour through Lowe's to look at paint swatches. Don't get me wrong, I loved it and had a great time. And it was my second choice of things to do closely following my parents watching the Little Man while Mr. Neruda and I took full advantage of the bed in the other room. And by that I sadly mean sleep instead of making whoopee.

I will say that earlier in the day Mr. Neruda took Little Man and I to the zoo to give me my gift (a gorgeous necklace to help me remember my Little Man while I go back to work) at the romantic site of our nuptials. I had no idea it was coming or I would have considered that our anniversary celebration. He was pretty successfully tricky this year which was fun. I think it helped him out that I was far too exhausted to go through my normal routine of espionage which leads me to figure everything out, including the gift, before the day of. Some find this habit disgusting (Mr. Neruda) but others feel that it makes me a good gift receiver because if it is something I didn't want I have prepared myself for an exclamation of happy surprise (me). But I digress.

I just think it is hilarious that we are so focused on our "adult" things of buying a new house that the thing we find to be the funnest is to try nailing down our color schemes for the new rooms, obviously following the 60-30-10 rule we learned from HGTV website (and if you don't know what that is you should look it up. It really draws rooms together for a completed look). I mean, sure, Hawaii was discussed as was Greece and Costa Rica but then the baby cried and reality set in and we went to Lowe's. And though some might see that anniversary celebration as pathetic I will counter with the fact that we have a 5 week old and were able to have a conversation our first time away from him that included 95% of not him. That is right, we are brand new, first time parents and we talked about all kinds of other stuff than him. In fact, when he did come up it was mostly because we were talking about repainting his nursery or whether we could take him to a movie theater without being awful people.

Here's to you my husband of 6 years! I think we are doing fabulously together and are only slightly old sticks in the mud. But there is no one else I would rather be stuck with.

Playing the market

2011-03-13T18:17:00.000-07:00

I've decided to invest in stocks of breast pads and diapers. We could certainly use more money and I like the poetic justice of getting money for what we spend money on.

I personally can go through 3 sets of breast pads in one hour. And my precious baby boy can go through 3 diapers in one feeding session. In fact, in the most recent feeding session Little Man used 4 diapers.

I feel like this is a can't-lose scenario. More than 10000 babies are born in the US a day. Those babies have to pee and poo in something and that something is my stock option. Plus, I can't be the only woman in the US who leaks like Niagara Falls. And what sops up that milky mess? My stock options. I am feeling pretty good about this.

So, if you need me in a year or so you can find me retired on a beach somewhere (Except not, because they terrify me now after all the craziness happening in the world. I will probably still be in OK, just rich and awesome).

Crime fighting hero

2011-03-12T13:23:00.000-08:00

So, per a conversation Mr. Neruda and I had this morning I realized how awesome my boobs can be. They shoot milk at a great distance. Now I know that isn't as cool as, say, laser beams or even confetti, but I have decided to work with what I have.

I am going to become a crime fighter with these things. Laser beams would probably be more useful for overall crime fighting, but I think my milk launchers can find a niche. Like lactose intolerant criminals. It will take some stake outs and things to find out who is and isn't lactose intolerant since that problem is easily hide-able. However, I learned from Barbara Kingsolver that humans are naturally lactose intolerant. There is a gene that gets turned off after the age of 4 for many people that makes them unable to digest milk. This makes me think I have at least a few people I can tackle.

Once I have found the LIT criminals I will tell the authorities to take a break, this one is mine. I will then do some amazing acrobats to get myself into position and then as soon as the criminal opens his/her mouth I will shoot my milk into it. They will immediately begin to choke, sputter and beg for mercy. I may or may not grant such mercy. What will be noted is that my milk launchers have saved the day once again.

I must think of a cute, tight outfit to fight all this crime in. Something that will age well, that hides my stomach pooch and that offers great breast support because my milk launchers get really sore.

Phantom feedings

2011-03-11T20:31:00.000-08:00

I have gone my whole life passively not killing anyone. I have never put a lot of effort into it, it has just come naturally. The only time I have really put effort into not killing someone was when I went with Mr. Neruda and his family down to visit his sister and her girls in Texas. This was about 2 weeks into our dating and I had not met any of his family before. While at the beach his youngest niece really took to me so I carried her out into the ocean for some floating fun. She was about 5 and pretty light weight. Until the riptide caught us and started dragging us out to where I could no longer touch. I started to call for help to Mr. Neruda and his dad but they couldn't hear me and it freaked her out. I basically used some luck, tenacity, and lifeguard training to scissor kick us to shore the best I could with her clawing every second of every stroke. Awful.

Apart from that traumatic experience not killing people has been easy. So I find it strange to be in the position to need to actively not kill someone constantly. Perhaps I am a little paranoid from the crazy hormones still surging through me, but death seems to be around every corner for my little man. I am constantly in fear that I will wake up and check on him and his blanket will be over his face with him cold, stiff and dead underneath. Or now he has a cold, I fear him choking and drowning on his snot, something that sounds plausible constantly with his rattling breath and moments where he just stops breathing for a while.

However, the worst of it are my phantom feeding sessions. I find myself waking up around three times a night with the exact feeling of cradling my baby in my arms. His weight and warmth are tangible. But when I become more conscious I notice that I am completely covered and that he must be under the covers. I panic and throw them away. He isn't there. I immediately think that he must have rolled off the bed when I threw the covers and check the floor. NOT THERE EITHER. Then, I have been known to hurl myself over the sleeping Mr. Neruda to check the bassinet. The only thing that can comfort me at this time is to see him swaddled in bed. Since swaddling takes time and effort it calms my crazies with the knowledge that someone put him down in a moment of wakefulness and calm and that all is right. I then fully awaken and feel like a scared idiot with Mr. Neruda looking completely freaked out warring between comforting me and throttling me. I guess we all need to actively not kill people sometimes.

Safe Haven

2011-03-11T14:58:00.000-08:00

I must say, the more I hear about what is going on in the world the happier I become that I live in Oklahoma. Sure we can be overly religious. And sure our Congressmen make us seem ignorant and backwater. And sure we aren't overly cultured. But, by-gum, we are safe geographically.

The Tsunami last night got me thinking about how crazy our world is and how it terrifies me a little. But then I began to think about places that are falling apart. Mostly coastal, places over major fault lines, places by volcanoes, and places with freaked out political structures. Oklahoma is basically exempt from all that.

I wouldn't live on the coast to save my life these days. Nor would I go somewhere like California, a place full of mudslides, earthquakes, fires, etc.

I like Oklahoma. There is no coast to worry about. Tsunamis, hurricanes, global warming making water levels rise, this will not immediately effect Oklahoma. We have tornadoes and thunder storms sure, but they are quick and mostly something we can dodge. Sure I could do without that hailstorm from last year or the snowstorm my child was born in, but that did not leave major lasting damage like the other disasters. My major fear is that my high school government teacher's declaration will come true that Tinker is a major nuclear bombing target because of the AWACS planes. That is the only thing that gives me pause about living in the middle of Oklahoma.

Our problems are manageable. Plus, we can grow our own food here and raise livestock. We have a lot of natural water sources.

Whenever I see a new disaster striking somewhere and begin to panic about the fact that I just brought a tiny baby into the middle of this crappy place, I stop and remember that I am in Oklahoma. This is the Heartland of waving wheat, Native American internment camps, and terrorist bombings. All things that are better than what is happening elsewhere in the world. I wish to remain under the radar right here in inconsequential Oklahoma and raise my boy to old age.

*Addendum:

Please add fires to Oklahoma's problems. They kind of crept up on us today and it seems to not be going great. I will say that a house fire is one of my biggest fears.

My milkshake brings all the babies to the yard

2011-03-11T11:34:00.000-08:00

I began this breastfeeding adventure with a lot of reservations. I couldn't imagine enjoying it and I was very worried that something would be wrong with my milk or supply or something. But I was especially worried about pumping.

However, I am doing awesomely. For a while I was only pumping about 2-3 oz per session per boob. But then I learned that many women do that per session without having fed a baby first. That calmed me.

Then I got 7 oz from one boob in one setting and it blew my mind. Of course I later found out that my doctor, who is also pumping right now, gets 11 oz per boob per session. Crazy.

But what really calms me and makes me feel awesome is that I have 43 bags of milk saved in the freezer right now and I get at least two a day to add to that. Apparently that's really good according to some other pumping peeps I know. It should all remain as reserves and he will eat what I pump one day after I pump it when I go back to work. I am feeling empowered about going back to work now.

I am a milk producing goddess!

Search Party

2011-03-10T18:19:00.000-08:00

This just in, I am in search of a married female with a child under a year old. The younger the better really.

No, this search is not for making whoopee. This search is for friendship. I want a bosom buddy who gets what I am dealing with now and can have fun commiseration time. I want one where we can bring our babies on friend dates without any weirdness.

I have friends who are parents but none who are recent parents. I still like my friends who have 2 year olds and 5 year olds, etc. But I want a friend experiencing this stuff for the first time right along with me, not someone who is just walking down memory lane often smirking and enjoying my pain because they went through it years ago and are sadists (seriously, this is not an isolated event. Since becoming pregnant I have been wished ill and laughed at for horrible things so many times it isn't even funny. American women are, frankly, vengeful bitches half the time. Especially the old ones. I almost threw down with white haired ladies on a daily basis while pregnant. I now refuse to complain about anything baby related or ask questions at work for fear that these women will rub my face in the difficulty and dance on my misery).

So, if any of you know women with recent bundles of joy who are cool, funny, intelligent, athletic would be ideal, have good hygiene, and decent home lives please send me their info. Or set up a meeting with them for me because one problem in procuring these friends is that it is awkward as hell. I feel like I am dating again but now two of us need to be liked instead of just myself. Oh, the pressure!

A Son

2011-03-06T19:33:00.000-08:00

I have never wanted a boy. If I was to be plagued with a child it had to be a girl, period. I wanted a girl because everyone throughout history wanted boys and some went so far as to kill girls until they got a boy. I wanted a girl to create a little awesome tomboy who would be a feminist bad ass. Who would conquer something amazing and it would be more so because she was a girl. I wanted a kind of Gilmore Girls equation in our relationship. And I feared changing a boy's diaper because I have heard so many stories about the spray factor.

Frankly, I was stupid.

I love my little man. I don't know what I was thinking when I wanted a girl. I am bad with little girls. Most little girls I know hate me actually. It is mostly because they all get huge crushes on Mr. Neruda and then see me as competition. This has happened in three distinct cases.

I have always struggled with girl friendships. I get along naturally with guys in a friendship capacity. Mostly because they rarely see me as girlfriend material so there isn't that awkwardness. But also because I love being active and goofy and trying weird things. I also love movies like Die Hard and Predator and can eat huge amounts of junk food. I think it is these qualities that makes me ideally suited to be a little boy's mom.

I think I will be a cool mom for a boy. I am happy to go backpacking and trapezing. I won't set at home getting a manicure while he goes camping with his dad. I will be pushing for him to get a black belt to match my own. I will take him horseback riding and tell him about how I worked and lived in a pub for months in England (and how he can also do it when he is older). I don't get squeamish over insects and dead animals. I actually had quite the horny toad collection when I was a kid (though I don't fancy spiders). I think mice are adorable and mud doesn't bother me at all. I have fond memories of the leeches my friend couldn't pull off me when I was a girl and I had to bear down and do it myself. I will try just about anything and I don't scare easily. I am horribly sarcastic and I love stupid guy humor a la Wedding Crashers and The Hangover (and Dumb and Dumber if I am honest).

I no longer want a Gilmore Girls-esque relationship. I want to be the mother to a child. I don't want to have a best bud relationship with my child. I think that is where a lot of trouble stems from in teens. I saw so many parents who tried to be buddies with their kids while I taught and it frankly backfired every time creating hellions. It seemed to work in GG because the mother was so immature that the daughter overcompensates with her maturity to keep their world working. I don't think Lorelei is a bad mother necessarily, I just think she didn't get a full childhood and enjoys recreating it with her daughter instead of letting her daughter live out her own.

But a major reason I am happy to be the mother to a boy is that this world needs more feminist men. Real feminist men. I know many men who claim to not care what women do and that they are all for equality. Then I hear about their home life. They do nothing around the house and don't care much for their kids. They are also not always a pleasure to work with. There are too many people who are all talk and not enough action. I was lucky enough to be raised by a man who was all talk, that he wasn't a feminist, yet his actions were nothing but feminist. It showed me an example of what a man should be at home while making me passionate about what a man should sound like. I believe that is what helped lead me to Mr. Neruda. He is all action and talk. He is amazing and I can't wait for my little man to see how a house focused on equality is run. I think he will grow up to be an amazing man and an even better partner.

Each day that goes by makes me so happy that I had no idea what I was talking about and hoping for. I am made to mother a little boy and I have already had so much fun doing it. I can't wait for him to be more interactive because I know it will solidify my contentment even more. I have a friend who thinks men are sub par compared to women and that a daughter is the only way to go. I emphatically disagree with her and hope that one day my little Huxley will change her mind. He has absolutely changed mine.

Plus, we only had a couple of spraying incidences at first and nothing since. The only trouble happens in the bath and I think it is hilarious to watch his very serious face as he arcs a nice yellow stream across the tub. Ah, the joy parents find in their kids. And I say that with no irony or sarcasm oddly enough.

Feel the speed

2011-03-05T20:33:00.000-08:00

I never saw it coming, but being a parent makes me feel like I am in the movie Speed.

My child sleeps quite well in the car seat when he is happy and already sleepy. However, if it is feeding time or his diaper is dirty, etc the car seat is not necessarily the answer. In fact, putting him in the car seat ticks him off more during those times. However, if the car can get up to at least 40 mph for a consecutive amount of time it will knock him out. Anything less is worthless and the "bomb" goes off.

Today we went to a family gathering in Edmond and then had to go to book club in OKC. Little Man was ready to be fed when we were arriving in Edmond and was letting us know about it. However, we got to driving and he conked out. He was quiet for so long that we thought we could run into Homeland to grab something to take to the family event. The plan was for Mr. Neruda to keep the car moving around the parking lot while I ran in. Little Man was not fooled by the measly 5 mph or so in the parking lot and lost it. However, when we got back on the road he was fine until we got to their house and parked. He immediately started fussing.

A similar situation happened when we were leaving Edmond. He decided he was hungry again and started crying. We thought we would be fine when we left the neighborhood but we hit 6 streetlights in a row and could never get over 25 mph. I never cursed Edmond as much as I did at that moment. When we finally cleared out of all that and hit the highway Little Man cooed and then was silent.

I now have deeper sympathy for Sandra and Keanu and their plight on that bus. I never knew that movie had so many hidden depths.

Diversifying yeast

2011-03-03T13:34:00.000-08:00

I enjoying learning new information. I hope to learn something new everyday. The new knowledge that I've gleaned today came through experience: Yeast is not just for the vag. Yeast can get in your baby's mouth because of all the milk they gargle. Then, that cagey yeast will transfer directly into the boobs. When this happens massive amounts of itchiness and pain will go shooting through the boobs until the problem is resolved. I unfortunately do not know how long it takes for the meds to kick in or how important it is that we get cured at the exact same time so as not to reinfect one another.

Sometimes I really wish that more of my knowledge came through reading instead of experience.

First time voter

2011-03-02T16:41:00.000-08:00

Yesterday Huxley went to his very first voting booth to voice his opinion about a city council member. Hopefully his vote counted and the stupid guy who won't let us have chickens in our backyard will get the boot. Even if that doesn't happen, I am still proud of my boy and him proudly making his voice heard!

Oscars 2011

2011-02-28T18:34:00.000-08:00

I love the Oscars! I can't help it. From the dresses and the commentary to the awards and acceptance speeches I just get a thrill.

Mr. Neruda and I enjoy having Oscar parties and this year was no different. It was a party of three and one of us slept through the majority of the program with one small eating break. The rest of us got some fun appetizer take out and went to town in our pjs voicing our opinions, judging everyone and gorging ourselves. It was a blast. Possibly the best Oscar party we have thrown yet.

The Oscars themselves were not that exciting. Mr. Neruda was devastated by The Social Network not winning best picture and I was annoyed that Melissa Leo won best supporting actress (her speech didn't help anything either). But mostly I couldn't stop focusing on whether James Franco was stoned or not. For his sake I hope he was.

Interesting new perspective

2011-02-28T17:38:00.000-08:00

As a consumer of movies and books I have always found characters and situations to connect to within them. I try to never decide that I am the main character and so misunderstood, tormented, that funny, that pretty, etc. What I mostly connect to are the situations and the way the characters react to them.

In the past I have always found myself connecting to the kid in the story. The young person dealing with friends and parents and self-discovery. It was always quite natural. However, motherhood has changed that. I don't feel particularly older or any such thing. I simply find myself connecting with the parent in the story or the mentor. It is a startling revelation.

I have always found it hard to imagine myself as a real adult. Even though I have been married for six years, gotten a masters degree, have held down multiple real jobs, own a home and am looking to buy another, have car payments and budget management, etc I still haven't felt particularly adult-like. But now, with my little man, I find myself connecting with the adult characters in stories in a way I never did before. I don't know that I feel fully adult yet, but I am definitely moving in that direction.

I have been watching and reading stories with parent-focused story lines these past few weeks such as Gilmore Girls, Parenthood, Waitress, etc. I find myself studying the parents and their situations now in a way I never did before. It was an unconscious shift at first and it took me a while to figure out what was happening. It was subtle.

I watched Gilmore Girls when it first aired while I was in high school. I naturally associated myself with Rory and her high school struggles upon my first viewing. I continued that connection whenever I rewatched episodes whether it was in college or after. But then, BAM, I now find myself studying Lorelei and her mom and how they treat their child and the relationships they build. I am especially effected whenever they make sacrifices for their child or set back and watch helplessly as Rory goes through her first heartbreak or struggles with peers. These are the things that mesmerize me now. At first, I could never understand parents and how they would rather save up to buy their ungrateful kid a car instead of using the money for something they want. I now understand this idea and the desire to thoughtlessly do for your child.

I suppose it is sad to admit all this and how uninterested I was about the plight of my unborn, unthought of child, but there it is. I am actually completely amazed by this unconscious shift in my thoughts and cares but also completely over-joyed that this transition took place. I really didn't think it would happen for me which was one reason I never wanted to have children. But nature and biology are awesome and the shift happened. I feel it is very akin to the birth scene in Waitress, how all her surroundings blur to meaninglessness and her main focus becomes the helpless, lovely smelling creature in her arms.

1st Doctor visit

2011-02-19T00:17:00.000-08:00

I love my laid back little man. At his first doctor's visit, he never cried once.

The doctor was lovely and they didn't make him get any shots this visit, so the whole thing went wonderfully.

Ode to Breastfeeding

2011-02-18T19:15:00.000-08:00

Ah breastfeeding, my bittersweet friend.

I knew there would be difficulties. I knew both baby and I would struggle and pain may be experienced. But, oh, how there is so much I never saw coming:

Waking at night in a pool of my own milk.

Weight loss is happening.

Breasts doubling in size, but sagging as if they want nothing more than to reach my toes.

How the spray of the shower head causes searing pain.

The amazing humiliation of my first pumping session.

The gold like status of all pumped milk.

The rage and frustration I felt with my first spill of that liquid gold while transferring it into a freezer bag.

Pride at the amazing gift I can give my child of perfect food for his little body.

Feedings lasting an hour and a half in the middle of the night with the next feeding just an hour away by the end.

The pressure of being the only person who can feed the boy right now.

The shockingly sharp pain my nipples feel whenever I get cold and nip.

The awesome disc pads I get to wear in my bra, because my boobs weren't big enough before.

Having no shirts that fit me, not because of my stomach but because of my boobs.

Wearing a bra at all times lest I spray milk everywhere.

Spraying milk all over my son in the middle of a feeding.

Having nipple chaffing from the wet bra pads.

Constantly smelling like old, human milk.

The throbbing before a feeding.

His inability to stay awake and eat.

My inability to stay awake and feed.

All the fun that comes with trying to feed in the car under a blanket in the heat.

Oh breastfeeding, how you have enriched my life.

Is it all worth it?

I suppose so.

Prodigy?

2011-02-09T12:14:00.000-08:00

I decided the moment I found out I was having a baby that I didn't want to be one of those parents who can only talk about their child and how special and better than all others he is. I mean, those people should know their audience, an audience filled with people who think that about their own child and find the speaker to be a selfish moron.

I will talk about Hux and give updates, but I hope to not give him more credit than he is due.

All that being said, I wonder about how prodigious he might be. On the eighth day of his life Huxley Eliot Neruda rolled over. During an impromptu tummy time on the bed he decided that life on his belly sucked and rolled to his side, something he has done before. We laughed and Mr. Neruda jiggled a toy behind him to entice him to complete the roll. Hux started looking over his shoulder to see the toy and then just completed the roll. That is about 2-3 months early. He has been able to hold hid head up for a few moments at a time since birth and we thought that neat but nothing too fancy. Then this. I think he has some potential here.

My boy kind of is better than all the other babies. Hmmm.

Birth story

2011-02-07T20:35:00.000-08:00

I've a harrowing tale to tell and I've no idea how I feel about it. I am officially a mother now. I have a tiny little man who depends on me for just about everything and all he offers in return are the softest cheeks for kisses that have ever been felt and the sweetest snuggles. It seems fair enough now. We'll see how I feel about it in 16 years or so when his cheeks are no longer soft and I have to bail him out of jail for whatever he did that weekend.

Anyways, the birth did not turn out how I had planned. For a variety of reasons I was very serious about a natural birth. I took many classes about how to succeed with it. I planned, I practiced, I read the research on why I was making the absolutely best decision, I talked about it, and I felt good about it. I was not afraid of the pain or the procedure to come. My only fear was that things outside my control would go wrong and I would end up with a c-section. However, the research I did made me feel like that wouldn't happen. I refused induction methods, pain medicine, my water being broken and many other things that lead women to have c-sections. Mr. Neruda and I felt confident in our decisions and in their effectiveness.

Then I went into labor. It started slow. Really slow. My water cracked rather than broke and slowly trickled out for hours. I labored at home for 14 hours before we went to the hospital because my contractions never went faster than 5 mins apart. Finally, due to the imminent blizzard we went to the hospital with them about 5-4 mins apart. Respectable I thought.

Things picked up speed some after we arrived. I really zoomed toward a 6 or so and then things fizzled. The contractions hurt. They hurt a lot and were extremely exhausting. I kept trying different positions to see what would relieve some of the pain and stress. I found two positions that I liked the most, one of which was suppose to be great for getting the little toot to enter the birth canal.

I was mostly able to use my training to keep myself ahead of the pain and not panic during them. However, I got myself stuck at about an 8 and couldn't progress any further. That lasted for six hours. Even though I wasn't dilating more my contractions were becoming fierce. They were about 2 1/2 to 3 mins long with only 30 second breaks in between. I was okay with this because I knew the next time I was checked they would say 9 or 10 and we would begin the ending of this whole ordeal. I still felt empowered and able at that point, but I was wearing down fast.

My breaking point came when she checked me again and said that I was still not quite an 8 and that nothing had changed for 6 hours. He wasn't in the birth canal and the doctor felt that he was too big to ever enter the canal much less come out. She felt I was not going to progress any further. She said I could try for a while longer, but there was meconium in the water and she was positive I wasn't going to get any closer to delivery.

That news was crumbling. Maybe I should have tried longer and I could have gotten there eventually. However, that news was devastating and the pain was intolerable. It was tolerable when I was going somewhere but became completely intolerable when I knew it was for nothing. The nurses and doctor left the room so Mr. Neruda and I could talk it out. I was willing to continue if he felt it worth a try and I definitely needed encouragement and someone feeling like it was worth it for me to continue. However, he immediately thought it was time to call it quits and get us both out of it safely. I added up the 30 hours I had been in labor and decided that maybe we should call it quits.

I was then rushed into a c-section, which was one of the scariest things of my life. Everything happened so fast after that. Many were very rough me while I was still having contractions. I don't blame them, they were all in a hurry, it just hurt so bad and made things seem worse. The spinal block that I received was painful at first and terrifying, having a giant needle stuck into my spine. The worst part was that it kept creeping up my body numbing my arms and made me begin to pass out a bit. Apparently gravity can pull it down into my head if I am at a bad angle. The upside to doing the c-section the way I did was that the drug seemed to not effect Huxley at all. Since it had only been in my body for about 5 mins before they started cutting into me I don't think it had time to get into the womb. He came out incredibly alert which is exactly what we wanted.

I honestly don't know how to feel about the whole experience. A part of me feels like a failure. I really had the whole thing planned out and I had the power of my beliefs backing me. I do feel like it went wrong. My body was inferior to what it should have been and that is saddening. It also makes me feel powerless. I can train and train for a marathon or just keep pushing myself no matter what when doing other physical activities, but there was nothing I could do about this situation. I had limits and they caused me to fail.

I have heard of women having PTSD after getting a c-section, especially if they really wanted a natural birth. There is a way I can understand that feeling, however, I choose to focus on the fact that he came out perfectly healthy, that I didn't die or have any lasting damage, and that I was in labor for about 30 hours before giving up. I didn't feel a contraction and crumble, I put in the good fight. I was beaten but I tried hard. There are moments when I get very sad and defeated feeling, but I think they have more to do with my crazy hormones and things right now rather than with deeper seeded feelings.

I don't know for certain how I feel, but I thought I would just share how Hux came to be.

Curse You Oklahoma!

2011-01-25T12:13:00.000-08:00

Well, the Oscars have been announced which is always exciting fun. Until you read the list of nominations and see just how screwed we are in Oklahoma. Mr. Neruda and I are huge Oscar geeks. We like to try and watch all the Best Picture, Best Actor, and Best Actress films and then as many of the supporting as we can. Probably a waste of time and ridiculous, but it’s our thing.

However, this year we were thwarted. We really thought we were doing well. We have seen all but one Best Pic, missing the one Oklahoma denied us, and thought we had seen what would be all of the Actor and Actress films. Then the nominations came out with quite a few curve balls and we really don’t stand a chance. Rabbit Hole never came here and it won’t be on video before Oscar night. The same is true about Blue Valentine, 127 Hours, Biutiful, and Animal Kingdom. I am hopeful that Quail will finally get 127 Hours since they do the Best Pictures before Oscar night and Animal Kingdom should come out on DVD before the night. But for the rest we are simply screwed.

Stupid Oklahoma and its limited releases!!!! I hate being screwed (unless it is by Mr. Neruda, then it can be delightful!).

Ummmmmm . . . . .

2011-01-24T17:45:00.000-08:00

So, very interesting news. This article says that 30 mins of meditation a day can actually change the structure of your brain. It is suppose to increase your capacity for learning and memory while shrinking your capacity for stress. Though oddly enough it doesn't help with self-awareness.

I think this has inspired me to meditate. I am not going to get crazy with it with weird clothes and a bunch of incense, nor will I start with a whole 30 mins right away. My mind tends to wander easily and my time will become so much more precious with the arrival of Fetus Cheek since so much of it will disappear to him, but I think it worth a try. I could use less stress and more learning and memory room.

Hey, since it is the season to make resolutions and all I think I shall resolve to meditate a bit everyday. Won't that be nice?

Oxytocin, you minx

2011-01-15T11:12:00.000-08:00

So oxytocin turns out to not be quite the one dimensional hormone of love and affection we all thought it was. Even though it makes us discriminate and be a bit racist the good news is that it should make me be a good mother whether I want to be or not. Since he is mine and a major part of my inner group, this little hormone should make me a mommy tigress for him. This is a relief because I worry about getting to that point on my own. Yeah for hormones and instincts.

See the article here.

One weird lady

2011-01-11T18:42:00.000-08:00

I'm sorry, but I have come to the conclusion that Audrey Niffenegger is simply a freakishly weird person.

*Includes spoilers

I loved The Time Traveler's Wife. It was such a unique and interesting story with complex, well developed characters. There were a couple of odd scenes in it like the co-masturbation scene, but it was more fascinating than freaky. I wouldn't have thought of that myself. What an interesting and slightly uncomfortable idea I thought to myself. I suppose boys will be boys.

Then came Her Fearful Symmetry. I was excited about it. It sounded like a cool idea and the other book was so well written. However, it was not so well written. It did not have like-able characters. And there were just some weird things going on. Ghosts stealing bodies, men sleeping with older women and then their niece/daughter, then sleeping with the niece/daughter/dead-lover while knowing it, etc. Just a lot of weird stuff.

Then I read The Night Bookmobile. I was really excited about it. A graphic novel about librarians and books and the love of reading? Why yes please. While I cheered the lack of weird sex stuff I was saddened by its amazingly depressing plot line. It started out coolly enough. Discovering a bookmobile that includes everything you have ever read. Getting to go through it and re-enjoy all those stories would be amazing. However, it kept disappearing so the woman ruined her life trying to find it. She did so to the point of suicide. Now that is sad and weird enough, however, the really depressing part came when the afterlife was never getting to read or see your books again but having to create a library for someone else from birth. Coming from a librarian that seems like my own personal hell. I don't want to cater to other people's horrible reading taste for the rest of my life. When I am done with this life I want to read what I want to read and enjoy myself.

Then came the fourth and probably last book of hers for me, The Three Incestuous Sisters. And we're back to the weird sex stuff (but no incest oddly). We have sisters blowing up babies with firecrackers and babies being born with wings. Birds ripping out all the hair on heads before they explode during their sister's orgasm. Jealousy, betrayal and weird stuff. Also, each page had one 4 word sentence per page or so. They weren't even well written short sentences. Disappointing.

Overall, I think she is a weird weirdo. This doesn't mean she is a bad writer. I still love her first novel but I don't want to know her as a person. I also don't want to meet the rest of her family. The incestuous sister book was actually dedicated to her two sisters. Hmmm. Is it a message to them? Punishment by bringing to light all the horrible things they did to one another? I don't know but I would actually be a little nervous to be around her as a person.

These are a few of my favorite things

2011-01-01T18:36:00.000-08:00

In an attempt to turn my pregnant negativity around, especially since we are weirdly close to D-Day (I am off my contraction meds and am dialated to 2 cm), I have decided to make a list of things I have actually enjoyed about my pregnancy.

1. I enjoy how Mariella, my marvelous kitty, continues to insist to her right of sleeping upon my belly. The first time she did this after he began to kick and move and started kicking her and she became quite startled and jumped off. That only happened once. She continues her vigils on my belly and he continues to kick and punch her. She will occasionally resettle herself or wake up from her naps, but she will not be budged. They are both pretty cute.

2. The second time Mr. Neruda and I had to journey to the hospital in the middle of the night for my contraction fun, we had an added surprise. They hooked me up to the fetal monitor that straps across my belly. Fetus Cheek hates the monitor and ultrasounds with a passion. He always runs from them and tries to hide, something that isn’t abnormal for fetuses from what I have heard. However, on that particular night, after I had been hooked up to the stupid monitor for about 3 hours with no real readings on him because he wouldn’t be still, I begged the nurse to release us since he seemed healthy enough to run from it and it was about 3 in the morning. She refused stating that they needed a straight 20 minutes of his reading before we could leave. After she left the room Fetus Cheek proceeded to find the monitor on my belly and start kicking the crap out of it. The speaker was turned all the way up and sounded like someone pounding on a microphone. He was actually moving the monitor on my stomach and he kept it up for a good minute or two, pointedly aiming for that spot. The nurse came racing in to turn down the volume. We were shortly released after that. I think she was as sick of us as we were of her.

3. I enjoy when Mr. Neruda sits in front of me with both hands on my belly. He always begins talking to him with “Hey Buddy” and proceeds to talk to him about all sorts of stuff. 9 out of 10 times this will render a response from Fetus Cheek with many kicks and punches and things. It is pretty cute to feel one boy respond to the other and watch the reaction of the other as he feels the response. I like how they already know one another pretty well. Mr. Neruda is the only one who can get a response from him.

4. I enjoy that the music he responds most to is Patty Griffin and Classical. He already has good taste. He also really liked a flutist that played at our church. So far he hates the drums. A lot.

5. I really enjoy how he likes butt and back massages. He will push his butt and back up against my belly really hard and hold it there while I rub and massage him. Sometimes I can get him to surface and move by pushing and rubbing against the spot where his booty usually lies. I hope that means he will be snuggly when he comes out.

6. I liked how a month or so ago I was driving home from work and felt a very firm fist jab into my belly. He held it there so I rubbed it and pushed on it. He slightly moved it and I followed. We “played” like that for a minute or so like two magnets turned opposite of one another. It was pretty fun.

7. I loved the first time Mr. Neruda felt him move. He was able to feel him move at around 18 weeks, which is pretty early. I could feel him at around 16 weeks or so and felt bad because Mr. Neruda wanted to feel him SO badly and I was worried it would be a long time before he could. However, during a movie he was able to and the look on his face was priceless. He floated on cloud nine for about a week after that.

8. I loved taking him on his first race. My dad and I signed up to run the Koman Run in downtown OKC. I was about 6 months pregnant ad my running clothes wouldn’t cover my belly all the way. We went in and ran the best we could with all the congestion that comes with a Koman Run (they aren’t really filled with runners and we got there a bit late so were nowhere near the front). I’m glad I got to get him into the sporty circuit at such a young age! We had a blast, but the beating that Fetus Cheek gave my bladder led me to make that my final run of the pregnancy and stick to the elliptical from then on. A good work out without all the bumpiness.

9. I love snuggling with Mr. Neruda in bed at night or in the morning and pressing my big ole’ belly against his belly or back. Almost every time Fetus Cheek will get to moving and Mr. Neruda can feel him through his back or belly. They are fun, intimate moments.

These are only a few things I can think of right now. I am sure there are plenty more, but I will leave the list here.

Science is blowing my mind.

2010-12-17T13:19:00.001-08:00

Wow! Scientist have found a new way to test people who appear to be in a vegetative state. Even though a tested man had shown no signs of life since a car accident 5 years ago, they found that he was still thinking. He was asked five questions like whether he had a brother and was asked to think about his living room for yes and playing tennis for no. Because people use different parts of their brains to think about descriptions and activities the scientists were able to follow what part of his brain was active through an MRI machine. He answered 4 out of the 5 questions correctly.

This is both fascinating and terrifying to me. One, the whole process of discovering that information is just amazing and the fact that someone who has not been able to communicate for five years is now able to communicate to some degree is neat. However, it is terrifying to think that the man has been trapped inside his useless body unable to move or communicate in anyway. He has been just lying there scared, alone and trapped. I can’t even begin to imagine the horror. If I were in that position I may be lying there silently begging for someone to ask me whether I wanted to live any longer so I could begin thinking about tennis with all my might.
A further explanation of this study can be found here.

Leprechaun monkey!

2010-12-17T12:23:00.000-08:00

A new leprechaun monkey has been discovered in Columbia. Its real name is Caqueta titi monkey. I love that we are still discovering new animals, plants, etc in the world and out of it. It always stressed me out as a child that everything cool had already been done and there was nothing left for me to do. I am glad to see that there is still adventure left in the world for Little Fetus Cheek to undertake. I guess it isn't a lost cause to be bearing new life after all.

Also, I find it hard to see why he is compared to a leprechaun. Nice hat though.

Complaint

2010-12-10T06:11:00.000-08:00

I'm sure this makes me a horrible person, but I can't help it. I hate being pregnant. I truly have a difficult time coming up with anything I like about it. I would really love for it to just stop, but I guess that won't happen for another two months or so. Pregnancy, for me, is a giant list of things I am not allowed to do, my body being attacked by a parasite, my body functioning in painful, unnatural ways, and constant unwanted attention from strangers and acquaintances alike. I can't stand it.

I feel like an old woman. I have gone from never having heartburn in my life to getting it from shredded wheat cereal. I use to be so limber, to a scary degree, and now I can't point my toes without getting a charlie horse. I can't twist my head quickly without getting a charlie in my neck! They happen all over my body now. I have never dealt with back pain before and can now barely walk sometimes because it is so bad. The list goes on. I won't bore you with the details. However, the best part is that I am continually having contractions, which are painful in themselves, but I have been put on a medicine that's side effects are awful. That really turned it all around for me. The worst is that I can't exercise anymore because of the contractions. I was doing 3 miles a day or so on the elliptical until about 3 weeks ago. That burst of serotonin, huge energy release, and feeling of well being was a major joy in my schedule. But now I am left being sluggish and depressed while my muscles atrophy.

I actually am not someone who voices my complaints often. Ask Mr. Neruda if you don't believe me, but I hate to complain about physical aliments. However, my happiness level has really taken a dive since the world around me can now easily tell that I am pregnant.

I cannot stand having everyone around me know that I am pregnant. I can't stand their prying questions, their forced opinions, their invasive ways, their touching me, etc. I especially love when much of this happens while I am at work so that I can't do or respond to anything the way I would like to.

I am a private person and dislike discussing personal issues with most people. I do not want to tell a complete stranger if I will be quitting my job to stay home or breastfeed. I don't want to talk about my natural birth plan and how they think I'm stupid for wanting to do it. I don't care about their labor experience or how they now hate their child as a teenager so I better "enjoy parenthood now." I also don't see the excuse of my lack of sleep at night being good because it prepares me for when the baby comes. That isn't something I need training for, I just need to begin the process rested not already exhausted.

However, the thing I hate most is how my pregnancy is all people can talk to me about whether I know them or not. That people feel like they can touch me in the most sensitive part of my body right now, whether I know them or not (fyi- I can't stand having my stomach touched whether I know you or not. ALWAYS ask and actually wait for a response). I especially can't stand when people send their children to hug my "baby" in my stomach or kiss it or touch it. Please leave me alone. And that people are now constantly over concerned about my well being to the stupidest degree. If I trip right now (and I mean a little stutter step trip where I barely stumble at all) suddenly everyone is yelling at me to be careful, are you okay, you are pregnant and need to watch your step better, etc. LEAVE ME ALONE! I do not want the issue of whether I can walk across a parking lot to be discussed in front of me without me every being asked. I don't want the door of my car gotten for me or my chair pulled out for me in a ridiculous, overly dramatic way. I don't care if my stumbled step was really that scary to you, keep it to yourself and get a life. I am not a child or an invalid. I am simply a lady living with a huge parasite. I was in the Peace Corp, I have had a few parasites before and no one seemed to cared then when I really could have used concerned people's help and a nice bathroom scout.

I know I can't hide my pregnancy anymore, but that doesn't mean that is all there is about me or that I am know in the public domain. Leave me and all pregnant women alone people. You are making one of the harder times in my life unbearable. I hate going out now with friends or strangers because of this. By the end of a night out, I am usually in such a bad mood that it is embarrassing and makes me feel worse.

I really just wanted to get this rant all out of me to hopefully make me feel better. From now on, for the next month or so, I am going to try to write about something I am thankful for instead of complaints. I am hoping it will change the bitterness that is setting over me because it is becoming debilitating and I hate that. I don't like feeling depressed and angry all the time. It makes me focus on the painful, horrible parts of this process more than is healthy. I hope to change all that during this most tiring and stressful time of the year.

Come on Hollywood!!!!!!!

2010-11-30T08:42:00.000-08:00

In more news of ruining all my viewing pleasure, the maker of Vampire Diaries is going to revamp X-Files into a sexy teen paranormal investigation thing. I want to die. Can't we remake things that are older than a decade or so? These are things that do not need revamping, maybe ever, but certainly not anytime soon. What is wrong with Hollywood and where are all the orginal ideas?!?!?!?!?

Stupid article

We made the NY Times!

2010-11-29T16:52:00.001-08:00

Way to go Oklahoma! We made the NY Times for intolerance. Too bad this wasn't a video feed and some white trash Oklahoman in a wife-beater could have slurred his speech and acted like an idiot. Oh well, the printed word has limitations.

Intolerance and the law in Oklahoma

Scary!

2010-11-22T17:07:00.000-08:00

One of the scarier things I've read in a long time:

A new Buffy movie without Joss Whedon!

Kitties

2010-11-22T07:25:00.000-08:00

I've never been a cat person or a dog person. I have always loved them equally. They each come with their own set of positives and negatives.

However, the older I get the more I seem to be veering into the cat camp. The newest info I just found out about kitties makes me love them more!

In an article I found, kitties apparently drink with physics. Instead of scooping water up with their tongue or something similar, they create a stream of vertical water towards their mouth that they can sip from with no splash. I love it.

Sabbatical over

2010-11-14T13:13:00.000-08:00

Thanks to technical difficulties (my laptop was an old, pathetic piece of crap) I haven't been blogging much. But now, on my new indigo blue laptop of the future, I hope to blog more in the coming days!

So, it turns out that I am, in fact, pregnant and pretending that I am not while living life normally just isn't going to work any longer. I officially have to start acting like a pregnant lady. Not only have I reached the dreaded third trimester stage, but I have gained a few complications.

The third trimester has mainly brought a ridiculous amount of bathroom visits. This isn't all together horrible. The worst part is the places I find myself peeing. Due to a variety of bathroom issues I have gone in my share of horrible places. However, you just assume that when you have diarrhea in a third world country you are going to find relief in some pretty awful places. However, when you need to pee in Penn Square Mall, you just don't expect to find yourself in a smelly, dirty mess. This is just the beginning of my pee-fest aught 10. I can't even begin to imagine the kinds of places I will have to pee in the months to come. And frankly, I just can't squat and maneuver the way I could before gaining a giant growth in my front bits.

Now on to the complications. It turns out that I am a contracting fool. I have been up to 3 mins apart, each lasting a minute. That's right, it's basically labor. This is a bad thing since I am only 29 weeks pregnant. I really need to last 9 more weeks to have a healthy little boy. We have had to go to the hospital twice now for contracting. Always late at night. The best part of our visits was the fact that Malcolm hates the heart monitor. At first he runs from it and gets angry. Then, since he figured out he couldn't get away from it he decided to start attacking it. He was kicking and punching the crap out of it which was amusing, but also painful. There is a microphone attached to the monitor and it sounded like someone was just beating the crap out of a microphone, which was turned up very loud. The nurse had to come in and turn it down for us. She also needed to get a full 25 min. reading of his heartbeat, which never happened, and around 2:30 she took pity on us and let us leave.

Now I am on the worst medication in the world to get them to stop, which isn't really working. The side effects are awful. I constantly feel like I am having a horrible panic attack along with headaches and an array of other awesomeness. If I have to stay on this for 2 1/2 months I may lose it. Also, it isn't really working so I am afraid of what the next step is. If it is bed rest, I may lose my mind. Ugh.

Well, that's my pregnancy tale. I am in fact pregnant. It basically sucks. I must now live a different life that is less fun.

Fetus Cheek's first race

2010-10-27T20:32:00.000-07:00

A couple weeks ago my dad and I ran in the Koman Run in OKC. It was mostly fun except for the fact that running kills my bladder these days and that the Koman Run has a lot of participants who aren't there to run. There was a lot of frustrating congestion throughout, but we were able to get through and have fun.

I felt it was important to run this race because I want to get Malcolm into the running circuit as quickly as possible. I think it's healthy for him and fun. He did really well in his first race. He was calm and determined. The only trouble was how he continually beat up my bladder which made the last mile and a half difficult. But I am sure he knows that mommy loves a challenge and he just wanted to make the unchallenging run a little more challenging. What a little go getter.

Honestly though, the only way I can get through this pregnancy is to do as many normal things as I can.

Blood pressure through the roof

2010-08-26T12:32:00.000-07:00

A few days ago I went to the pharmacy to pick up my prenatal vitamins. They weren’t quite ready yet, so I found a seat in the waiting room. The only other waiting customer was a restless older man. He paced and fidgeted and finally went over to the blood pressure machine to check his rates.

As he set down he had to move a magazine out of the way. It took a bit for the whole process to play out and I patiently flipped through an issue of Cosmo.
When he finished he got up, picked the magazine up, shook it at me and said, “Well of course my blood pressure is raised, look at that picture!”

On the front of the magazine was a beautiful woman wearing only a men’s dress shirt that was completely unbuttoned and gaping open, showing all the breasts but the nipples.

I will admit that my reaction was slow and groggy as I stared at this 80 year-old-man waiving a nudie magazine at me. When I finally closed my mouth and swallowed my laughter I replied, “That does seem like it would skew the results.”

SUCK!!!!!!!

2010-08-02T17:23:00.000-07:00

Well suck! I went through caffeine withdraws like a good little pregnant woman when I found out that I was pregnant. I stopped drinking EVERYTHING, including my sinfully magical, and critical to my well being, Diet Coke. It sucked. It hurt. It was a real morale killer. But I soldiered through it and became a caffeine-free person.

Then I began craving ice cold, liquid refreshment like mad. It was all I could think about. I dreamed about it. I yearned for it with every fiber of my being. And then I found a loop hole. 7-11 Icee Drinks!

They taste like Coke. They are freezing. They are delicious. They are satisfying in a way I have never known. I have been in heaven for a few weeks now.

Then something occurred to me: How are these delicious treats made? Do they use real Coke products by any chance? Am I slowly (and satisfyingly) killing my baby?

I decided to research this conundrum like any self-respecting librarian should. Turns out those delicious frozen treats are just like drinking a large pop. They have caffeine running through every ice crystal.

So I am now off of them. I am now experiencing that wonderful headache that only caffeine deprivation can create. Because the normal pregnancy headaches just weren’t enough of a challenge.

Curses!

Note to self

2010-07-29T16:24:00.000-07:00

Don't listen to the audio book If I Stay while pregnant and driving.

One: It's about a horrible car wreck.

Two: It's about a beautiful, happy, and loving family being horribly demolished.

and Three: It's about snow, which is what I want so bad while suffering through this demoralizing-ly hot Oklahoma summer.

Ode to Soda Pop

2010-07-21T09:10:00.000-07:00

My dear, sweet, fizzy liquid, oh how I miss thee! I long for your burn and rush of flavor into my mouth. Sometimes I have difficulty controling myself when I am near someone holding a beautiful, curvatious bottle of soda. The kind that is fogged from being so cold on such a hot day with beads of sweat slowly trickling down its side. When I see that silver label of DC or that maroon label of DP I must painfully hold back physical violence towards these innocent drinkers. They can’t know what pain they inflict upon me. They are simple people simply trying to quench their own cravings.

I know there are caffeine-free drinks in the world. I have tried a lot of them. Grape soda pleased me for a few days, caffeine-free DC is a sad shell of its normal self, and I am frankly disheartened at this point. I miss the burn most of all and caffeine-free soda just doesn’t offer the edge of searing pain that DC does.

I hear people say, “Yeah, but only six months more.” And I want to punch them in the face. One, six months is a LONG time. Two, there are about nine months after that of caffeine-free breast feeding. I wish I could suffer the pain of pregnancy and delivery and that Mr. Neruda could suffer all the sacrifices of pregnancy. Life would be better to such a degree that I would dance a jig on the Library counter nude!

SCORE!!!

2010-07-20T13:41:00.000-07:00

I just found a random package of Wonka Giant Chewy SweetTarts in my desk!!!!! I was craving something like Laffy Taffy, but sadly there is no way to get it until later. This is a wonderful substitute!

I am just curious about the shelf life of Giant SweetTarts. They look a little weird, but taste fine.

Come on Ted's!

2010-07-19T08:00:00.000-07:00

I ate at Ted's in Norman yesterday for the very first time. I am a little snobby about Ted's since I live a few blocks from the original, and apparently I am right to be so.

The cheese dip was not the same. I am just saying. But that was the least of my worries.

After having a lovely dinner with friends I went to the bathroom on my way out. The bathroom had a few shocks in store for me. First, was inside the mirror over the sinks there was a hallograph looking TV screen! I don't know how they did it but the TV was inside the mirror, which is kind of cool. However, it was set to ESPN in the ladies bathroom. I found that odd.

What I also found odd was that none of the bathroom stall doors had hooks on the back. Where is a gal suppose to hang her purse and coat and other things she doesn't want on the nasty bathroom floor.

In order to overcome this problem I went into the handicap stall where there was a changing table. However, the changing table had poop smeared on it. I was pretty annoyed.

Why can a restuarant afford to install a TV in the mirror, something that is completely useless for all but the minute it takes to wash your hands, but they can't afford to put hooks on the back of the stall doors? Really?

Tears

2010-07-15T10:04:00.000-07:00

I am pretty sure that I had my first pregnant crying episode last night. It was weird because I am not a crier. I laugh when I get hurt (it's a weird reflex I guess) and I mostly end up angry when I'm sad so tears don't come much.

However, last night was different.

For the past while Mr. Neruda and I have been watching an episode of Buffy the Vampire Slayer every night before bed. It is so fun and wonderful, until it's not. We are currently in season 5 and the episode we watched last night *spoiler alert* was when Buffy's mom died.

I have seen all of these before, more than once, so this was not a surprise. Sure it is sudden in the show and obviously sad, but I knew exactly what was coming. And I was fine when Buffy found her and went through shock, pain and tears. I lost about one tear down my check. I was also fine when Buffy told her sister Dawn at school that it happened. Even when Dawn denied it, cried hysterically and collapsed on the floor only about one or two tears slipped out. I did need to blow my nose because snot was a bit looser (however, I am getting over a cold so it could have been for any reason).

I was not fine, however, when Anya reacted. She is an ex-demon who is thousands of years old and one of my favorite Whedon characters. She normally makes inappropriate comments and questions all the time and this time was no different. When she asked if they would cut open the body another character lost it and started yelling at her. Anya then began to cry and say how she didn't understand. Not death, not Joyce being gone, not anything and no one would tell her what was happening. Very poignant.

It was at that point that I began sobbing. Shoulders shaking, audible, tears streaming, sobs.

Mr. Neruda turned to me startled and asked if I was okay and tried to comfort me. I pushed him away and continued sobbing and watching. Luckily, another character did something funny soon after and it broke the spell I was under allowing me to laugh instead of cry. It was a relief.

I actually woke up this morning with sore, raw eyes feeling baffled. I don't think I like pregnancy hormones.

Barbershop

2010-07-04T08:44:00.000-07:00

Okay, I gave myself another haircut. I know I swore off that behavior after the last time, but I am trying to grow it out and a mullet was developing. So I cut off the tail. It is not straight. When I asked Mr. Neruda how the back looked from a 1 to 10, he just said not good.

However, I have been receiving compliments on it left and right. Complete strangers in stores, at the library, etc. I guess the mullet leaving is just so wonderful that people can't help but comment.

I think I shall continue to be my own barber. At least until people start pointing and laughing and stuff. Then I will cry and stop.

Buffy-verse

2010-07-02T08:38:00.000-07:00

I love Buffy. All seven seasons and the eighth season that was done in graphic novel form. Actually, I just love all things Joss Whedon: Buffy, Firefly, Angel, Dollhouse (mostly). They are all so wonderful! The perfect blend of funny, horror, fantasy, sci-fi, intrigue, romance, intelligence, violence, and punning. I honestly can't believe I haven't written about this before.

Due to my great love (and slightly unnatural obsession) I would love to name my little baby Buffy if it is a girl. I mean, what a great name?!?!? It is a nod back to the 40s and 50s, it is short, sweet, unique with a bit of tough built right in. However, Mr. Neruda is completely against it. He won't even discuss it. I am staggered. First, how rude. Second, I'm doing all the hard work of growing this parasite so I should totally get double say in the name.

Also, for a boy I would love the name Fox after Fox Mulder in the X Files. Mr. Neruda has nixed that one as well. Stupid him. He doesn't know good characters and good names if they punched him in the face (which both would be happy to do!).

So, until I can win him over I will be calling the fetus Buffy or Fox once we know the sex. Hopefully they will grow on him by the time its born and he will crumble to my will. Otherwise, I will concede the name Joss.

Ice Candles Melted Me

2010-06-29T16:56:00.000-07:00

So, the Summer Reading Program is in full swing at the Moore Public Library. This is absolutely my busiest time of year. I am worn out with crazy amounts of kids, about three programs a week and just a busier library in general. Last summer was my first one and it went quite smoothly and successfully. I actually won the employee of the year award for my stellar performance as programmer extraordinaire.

This year has been a little different. First, there has been a ridiculous amount of teens signing-up. I had about 400 last year and planned for the same this year. However, I had 400 kids by the third week and have run out of give-away bags. I found about a hundred bags from a few years ago that were left over and those are almost gone. I still have 4 1/2 weeks left! I don't know what I am going to do.

Also, my programs are a little crazy this year too. My first program had a 30 person limit. There was a registration and everything for it. However, through a small misunderstanding of some volunteers allowing people in the room early, I ended up with a mob scene of 70+ people, half having signed-up and the other half being sneaky. It was awful, but it worked out alright in the end. We scrounged up enough supplies and all had fun.

The worst fiasco so far was the ice candle making workshop. I was excited about it. The candles look awesome, I had oil to put in them so they would smell nice and everything. Before the program I tried to melt the wax crystals in a crock pot and it worked fine. So, at the program I set up about five crock pots, ready to be a melting fool. However, at the program with 31 kids, it didn't work. Then we rolled in the staff microwave to try to melt them that way and that didn't work either, it only melted the boiling bags.

We luckily have a stove in the kitchen that is on the other side of the library from the meeting room we were in. I started a pot boiling and stuck one of my co-workers in front of it. I had to run back and forth with bags of wax crystal in one direction and boiling hot bags of melted wax in the other direction. A program I worried wouldn't take an hour took two. It was miserable, I was in heels, and one mom was a little mean to me about it (however, she has been mean to me at every single teen event so far and I really wonder why she keeps coming back).

The important part is that everyone left with a finished ice candle. At every program, everyone has left with their proper product and mostly with smiles (except for that one lady), and my numbers are crazy up. I am sure this summer will feel very successful in August after I have taken a week vacation and am well rested (or as well rested as a pregnant lady can be). But right now, I am a little stressed and exhausted. My Eclipse party is looming over my head and will happen tomorrow. That will be a nice one to have out of the way.

Oh, summer.

Viva la revolucion!

2010-06-22T09:57:00.000-07:00

So, I’m pregnant. And it pretty much sucks. I find my mind and body only caring about how to keep myself from being sick all day long. It makes for a boring me. I am annoyed with myself that all I can seem to do is complain and think about what I might possibly be able to eat next without getting sick.

I have tried many of the little pregnant tricks. Ginger is officially dead to me now. Saltines are a dry death for me as well. Pickles are beginning to climb the chart of death. It is frustrating that I will find something that makes me feel decent and it only last for about two days and then it is the most nauseous of them all.

Frankly, I hate being pregnant.

However, I am sick of being a whine-bag. I hate constantly complaining and that being about all I can say because that is about the only thing on my mind. So, I have decided to stop complaining . . . audibly anyways. When asked how I am doing I will again answer, “fine.” If asked a more specific question like, “are you still getting morning sickness?” I will respond, “Off and on,” and then smile. I am hoping that a positive attitude will change my sickness level and my enjoyment level.

I am making efforts to beat the exhaustion by forcing myself to read so long each day, watch something, do chores, etc everyday whether I feel like it or not. I hate just lying around being boring and having no interests but staring at the ceiling. NO MORE! Viva la revolucion!!!

I am more than a pregnant woman and I am going to start behaving in that way.

Weird drive home

2010-06-16T15:46:00.000-07:00

Today on my drive home I had two odd experiences.

First, I passed Santa Clause on the highway. He had a white beard that came to a point on his chest, was wearing little, gold rimmed glasses and was in a red, one piece long-john outfit (you know, with the buttons down the front as seen on Little House on the Prairie?). And he was driving a little red pick-up truck. I considered taking a picture but traffic was too bad, using cellphones while driving is naughty, and I'm pregnant and shouldn't get in wrecks.

Second, when I turned onto my block at the end of the drive I passed a neighbor woman out mowing her yard. Seems normal enough. Except she was in a shiny, formal pants suit with pearl earrings and a pearl necklace. Sadly, I couldn't see her shoes because she was behind her push lawnmower. Oh, and did I mention she is probably in her 70's?

It all kind of made up for a crappy day.

Not cool man, not cool

2010-06-04T17:05:00.000-07:00

A man came into the library today to update his account information. He did not have proof of his address when he first got a card, but since he was fully vetted from the penitentiary he had a card with his information on it. He took it from around his neck and tossed it at me to check. There was a brown glob stuck to one side. That glob was poop.

I touched another person's poop!

I gagged. I pushed it back towards him. I smiled brightly and said we're done now, have a nice day. He walked away. I used sanitizer goo. I walked immediately to the bathroom and washed my hands . . . a lot. I then went back to the desk and used more sanitizer.

I am okay now.

1st doc visit . . . a let down

2010-06-01T07:18:00.000-07:00

Mr. Neruda and I went to our first doctor's appointment a few days ago.

Mostly it was a let down. They just re-tested me (because those test are SO difficult to operate) and then came in and said, yep, you're pregnant.

He then said, "Oh, lets see when the due date is. When was your last period."

I told him when and he proceeded to take out his iphone. I said something like, um, really, on your phone?

Mr. Neruda said, "Is there really an app for that?"

And the good doctor responded, "Damn right there's an app for that!" and then he guffawed.

Fascinating. Since I could have downloaded that very app myself and done the same thing at home I feel a little jipped. What a waste of a co-pay.

I am now currently in pursuit of every little girl's dream, a gyno!

Excellent customer service

2010-05-31T10:46:00.000-07:00

Recently, Mr. Neruda and I went to the store to get a pregnancy test. We could not find the test so we stopped a nice worker and asked for directions. The nice worker (who had exceptionally friendly tones) said, "Go that way to that aisle, their by the rublas."

We nodded and walked away. As we walked in the direction indicated Mr. Neruda asked me what she said. I said that I thought she said "rubals" but I don't know what that means. He said, "I think she said rubbers." Then it hit me. That is exactly what she said.

We literally stopped in the aisle in fits of laughter, almost being plowed over by a cart behind us.

And in fact, they were by the rubbers. A whole wall of rubbers.

Ones we probably should have used before. I think it mean spirited to put the two together. It is like rubbing those who need the tests' faces in the birth control they should have been using.