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Archives from 2002-2006

August 27, 2007

My sleeping position of choice is flat on my stomach with my arms tucked underneath me, but lately I’ve started feeling more uncomfortable when I try to do so. Like I’m lying on something, or more specifically, someone.

The pregnancy books tell you to sleep on your side to make things easier on your heart, which has to pump massively increased blood flow into parts of your body that have enlarged during pregnancy, such as your ass. I start out nearly every night perched on one side or another, but lately I’ve been waking up on my back—which is weird, because I don’t even like sleeping on my back. I have this suspicion that I’m doing something weird with my arms, too, while I’m lying there snoring like an elephant seal, because sometimes they’re all half-dead-feeling at first, like the blood has been drained from them. Am I holding them up in my sleep like a zombie prairie dog? MAYBE.

Not that I’m sleeping in any one position for any great length of time, mind you. Oh no, my bladder has things to do, places to go! Like the bathroom, for the eight millionth time. I get up to pee so many times at night you’d think I spend each evening preparing for bedtime by power-glugging a few kegs of Gatorade. It is only slightly more ridiculous than the fact that my face seems to suddenly have received the memo that holy shit, we’re pregnant up in here, and now I’m breaking out like a crackle-voiced teenager.

Also, every single pregnancy newsletter I get from BabyCenter compares the fetus’s size to some type of food, leading me to some inescapable and disturbing eating-related associations. Apparently this week Smalltopus is the size of an avocado. Mmmm, guacamole.

:::

Random: I saw a couple of you comment on having noticed my rainbow-hued bookshelf; the scintillating story behind that organizational theme is here. Also, if you’d like to see a big ole fancy sticker I slapped on my wall yesterday (it’s cooler than it sounds), you can do so here.

:::

I think I’ve publicly mocked him for this before, but just in case I haven’t: JB refuses to buy cucumbers at the store because they are “embarrassing”.

He will, however, buy zucchini. I can’t figure this one out.

August 26, 2007

Riley’s birthday is coming up, which is blowing my mind (oh my god, when did my baby turn TWO?) and yet at the same time seems vaguely anticlimactic (hey, we’ve been dealing with the Terrible Twos since he was 11 months old). We’ll be doing the Long Drive to Oregon at the end of the week to hopefully experience a last gasp of summer down at the cabin.

I’m looking forward to the potential of a few days of sun, river-swimming, dragging JB across the road to the corner market for the 3538th time to get another ice cream treat (two words: IT’S IT), and of course experiencing the summery joy of removing a poopy swim diaper (helpful tip: scissors).

Riley has not yet been informed that the cabin is in a remote area far away from any flight paths, but I think he’ll be quite pleased. I know I’ll enjoy having a break from peeling a worried kid off my lap every time a jet engine rumbles by (which, I’ve timed it: it’s literally EVERY GODDAMNED SECOND, ALL DAY LONG).

In other news, I miss having an oven. I’m also tired of the squeaky feel of plastic utensils. Riley has a runny nose and I have no way of knowing if he’s getting a cold or if I’m just poisoning him with kegloads of drywall detritus and sawdust. And you know what? This contracting business we’re working with tried to tell us, back at the beginning of the project, that they thought our kitchen would only be totally down for 3 to 5 days.

Pardon me while I bray a hearty, drywall-dust-choked peal of bitter, bitter laughter! I wonder why contractors have to live up to every single cliche in their industry; they’re like the fucking DMV.

Anyone have some good recipes for meals that involve little to no prep, no cooking other than what a microwave or grill can accomplish, and don’t dirty any non-disposable dishes? Because I’m wondering just how much takeout a person can consume before half their system is permanently coursing with MSG.

And now for the inevitable Images From the Weekend:

Riley smugly tooling around at Ashley’s kids’ birthday party yesterday.

Party balloon—I love this picture. Hey, if you ask Ashley very, very nicely, there might be a chance that she’ll share the recipe for the cupcakes she made for the party. They were possibly the best thing I’ve ever eaten, ever. Think strawberry shortcake, but in CUPCAKE FORM. With icing, dude.

My son is a dangler. It’s his favorite activity in the whole world, to hang off various things like an action star in peril. Here JB is indulging him with the creative assistance of a hula hoop.

I’m not sure what’s going on here, but I like it. Work that hat, JB.

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