Pregnancy Knows

To husband: Don't you dare think you can smuggle a candy bar under my nose, eat it across the room and think I won't notice!

To classmates: How awful do you have to be to sneak a pizza slice into class, "hide" it on your lap, and pick away at it, all the while thinking you aren't being a distraction?

To moldy substance in the fridge: I wont take you out and throw you away because I can't get close enough without gagging. So go ahead, continue to mold away in peace and become even smellier. Sigh. Catch-22.

I CAN FREAKIN' SMELL EVERYTHING!

Trust me, sometimes it is NOT pleasant. Until I became pregnant, I didn't realize how many times a day our two cats could fart...or my husband for that matter.

Earn Points With Your Poo

Thanks to my "poo problem", I can no longer tell my husband that he is full of sh*t. Whenever I do this, his comeback is to exclaim the truism that I really AM full of sh*t. Poo. On. HIS. Shoes. This makes me want leave my hair dryer and hair straightener all over the bathroom floor for him to step on AND leave my hair in the bathroom draim (take that!).

Also thanks to the current situation, whenever my husband comes across anything poo related, he automatically thinks of me. I always wanted to be known for something before I turned 25... This is why my husband emailed me this nice little chart- which I think makes complete sense.

They need to make special amendment to this chart for those of us that are poo challenged.

OMG. Why'd He Have To Say Corn?!

I was sitting in my international business transactions class, innocently and unsuspectingly pretending to take notes on our discussion of the effects of NAFTA while really continuing an internal discussion with myself regarding the sexual orientation of the funny man in front of me with shiny nail polish (and do I see lip gloss?!?).

That's when a guy in the back pulled the trigger that sent me into crazy pregnant lady mode. The guy in the back (whom I USED to like) started talking about the export price of corn. OMG. WHY'D HE HAVE TO SAY CORN!?! My mouth started to water like crazy and visions of juicy corn cobs danced in my head. HMM CORN.

When someone followed up with a comment about Mexican corn growers, I started to fantasize about plump, sombrero wearing (stereotypical I know), sun-tanned men and women pulling juicy corn out of the ground.

I never needed a cold shower more in my entire life.

American Idol. In The Bedroom.

I'm not addicted to TV. I never even watch it unless someone else turns it on, but when it's American Idol season, I'm hooked. I like to watch people perform. And sing. And dance. Andmake fools of themselves. Plus American Idol kind of represents the American dream, anyone can make it, this is the land of opportunities. This is reassuring to me even though I know it's not exactly true, especially in the legal field.

The best part of American Idol is cuddling with my husband on the couch. Second best is laughing at Simon's mean and crazy comments.

Last night Americal Idol permeated our bedroom. After a much overdue bedroom "romp" with my husband (I know, TMI) we started mocking Simon and critisizing each other's "performances."

"It just didn't feel like YOU. You were out of character."

"You were a little pitchy"

"It was just plain boring and awkward."

"I kept waiting to be blown away, but it never happened."

"Best performance of the night!"

Next time I'll have to do the infamous Paula Abdul clap or start off my critique with Randy's favorite, "Ok dawg, check this out. Check this out."

I'm NOT Going To Get Up Today

Today I hit my alarm and kept sleeping, so I totally missed the ferry which would get me to my first class on time. I woke up two hours later, determined to make it to my next class. Then I got tired again. I have been hit with an unshakeable wave of tiredness all day.

I missed all my classes. I can't for the life of me get motivated to do anything related to school. I feel like I've been sucked into an energyless, motivationless, lifeless black hole. I hung out in bed or on the couch all day. Counting last night, I got a total of 16 hours of sleep today. I still feel sluggish and my body feels like I just completed a work out at the gym (or hit by a semi). I thought things were supposed to look up in your second trimester?

Craving Kisses

Images and the wafting, yet sometimes imaginary, scent of food are powerful things to a pregnant woman.

I think I smell mustard pretzels and BOOM: I NEED mustard pretzels or else my tongue will shrivel and fall out of my mouth and my stomach will combust from a lack of the powdery, sour pretzel bliss.

I see online pictures of frosted pretty cakes set neatly on high pedestals and BOOM: I NEED to press my face into all those moist, soft cakes (always chocolate, of course), tear velvety crumbs off with my teeth and inhale the creamy whipped frosting.

The memory of my trip to New York rises to the forefront of my mind and BOOM: I NEEDNEEDNEED to sink my teeth into a warm ear of corn on the cob, smothered in mayo, parmesian and lime juice.

When I walk down Madison Ave, I can almost taste the smell of a juicy grilled burger with melted cheese, juicy tomatoes, sassy pickles lathered in sweet ketchup. Suddenly my mouth aches with desire for that little burger probably hiding just around the corner, taunting and laughing at me.

These are all common experiences for pregnant women, right? Just like A New Duck's craving for cement. Well how about a craving for kisses? When I watch two people kiss on tv, or when I see a photo of a lip-locked couple, I suddenly NEED to kiss my husband, like right now! Hopefully I will be able to suppress this need until I get home for work. I don't know what my boss would say if he walked into my office on me trying to kiss my own arms or something.

Search Phrases, Just For Fun

I really enjoy when other bloggers post a list of google search phrases that lead readers to their site. It's incredible the crazy things that people go to google for. Google has replaced the need for older brothers and sisters, at least when it comes to looking for answers to that burning, sometimes inappropriate question. I was the oldest in my family so I had to keep my questions to myself. If I only had google back then.

I decided that I finally have enough weird search phrases to make my own list. This is what some of my readers MEANT to find:

"eat my boobs" - what does this even mean
"c boobs in b bra" - um, buy a new bra? Unless you like boobage muffin tops.
"melted barbies" - someone is a pyro femme nazi?
"I have to pee" - do you REALLY need google for this one?
"my husband's white briefs" - phew, at least he doesn't wear a thong.
"baby overdosed today" - you need a visit by Mr. Poison the sticker man and a call from CPS.
"blueberry lentil icecream"- EW
"grazing boobs" - must be a new variety of boob that chews its own cud and eats grass.
By far the most popular google search is "don't even look at me wrong." I wonder if this is a song lyric?

Other readers want to know:

"how quick can you get a bed sore" - shall we conduct a science experiment?
"how many calories in 12 slices of cucumber" - I have some health conscious readers.
"what does it mean when he takes off his wedding ring?" - it means he's cheating on you with a bustier more boobalicious woman, leave him or get plastic surgery.
"what to do if you eat rotten spiders" - why would you eat any spider?
"Do I have plum boobs?" - good question.
"How do you look at someone's boobs while they are sleep?" CREEPY.

The Best Food In The Whole World!

In college I had the opportunity to visit New York for a nerdy Model United Nations Competition a fun weekend getaway with fellow nerdy classmates my hip friends.

During my visit I visited Ground Zero and personalized what happened on 9/11 for the first time. Before that trip I couldn't really fathom what people in New York went through on that day. After my trip, I still couldn't appreciate the full extent of that horror but I could, at least, process the magnitude of the devastation.

I also ran through Central Park, which was more than a little overwhelming. As were the ginormous buildings that blocked out all sight of the sky and the hordes of people rushing from place to place. Oh and the food.

Street vendors would keep shop until the wee hours of the morning so that hotel guests and crazy party animals could fill their stomaches with a gyro before settling into bed. While staying in New York you can experience quality and authentic food from all over the world. While everyone else in my group fawned over the chocolate and cheese fondue at the French restaraunt we visited, by far my favorite culinary experience was cuban corn.

Although I don't know the exact ingredients of this authentic cuban dish, the Americanized version of Cuban corn is corn on the cob with a mayonaise spread, sprinkled in parmesian cheese and topped with lime juice. Yes, it sounded odd to me too at first. But this is seriously the very best way to eat corn in the entire world! Try and it you will be amazed. I've prepared cuban corn for family and friend gatherings. It always surprises but delights the guests.

Maybe now that Fidel Castro is out of power, our trade sanctions against Cuba will be lifted and I can order cuban corn straight from cuba? But it better happen soon before my cravings for cuban corn are phased out by tuna pizza (seriously, I started to drool thinking about this invention last night).

Something Amazing

Happened to me this week. I was walking down a grimy Seattle sidewalk when I smelled something. It wasn't a familiar downtown winter smell. It wasn't the smell of alcohol, homeless, commuters, buses, sandwich shops, greyness, or cadillacs.

It was the smell of earthy fragrance. The scent of flowers!

I couldn't tell you what kind of flowers were radiating such a scent, but for my winter-tired senses, it was the most amazing thing in the world.

Spring is around the corner! Or my pregnancy nose is in full force.

Law Students Are Smokin'

I'm always surprised when I see fellow law students standing outside with a cigarette in their mouth, heads partially covered in a bubble of smoke. I mean, here are smart people who study Supreme Court decisions, engage the class in discussions of public policy, hold passionate ideas about what is best for our country, members of law review and moot court and they constantly throw their lungs in front of a bus several times a day.

TRUST ME, I understand the chronic alcoholism that's rampant among law students. That I get! If I wasn't pregnant, law school would drive me to the bottle too, as it has in the past. But smoking? It's completely beyond me. These people know it's bad for them, they know the perils and unpleasantries awaiting them in the future. Yet, they happily don wide smiles and light up.

Unlike Chicago, where I was surprised at how common smoking was, Seattle is full of yuppies and hippies and health freaks. Smoking in Seattle is a great evil- I will even go as far to say that peer pressure in Seattle favors non smokers. Of course, in high school there were those kids who crossed Highschool Road just so they could be off campus and smoke without fear of campus police but those were the rebels, the self proclaimed "bad kids."

So why do these few law students continue to smoke? Is it addiction? It is just their one vice? We all have at least ONE vice that we know is bad. But no matter their reason for smoking, I would think that out of all people THEY would be smart enough to extinguish such a deadly habit. Do they think about how their decision is going to affect their kids and granchildren years from now? They might have to talk to their loved ones through a hole in their neck. They might have to say goodbye much too soon. They could be plagued with constant bad breath for the rest of their lives. Of course, those are all "mights" and it's hard to fathom a "might" actually happening to us.

I'm not judging them. I know I don't always make the best decisions so it's not my place to judge anyone. I'm just saying that I don't understand it. Once I tried to smoke when I was slightly buzzed, it was too hard. It took too much breathing coordination and inhaling that stuff was gross. That's when I realized just how nasty smoking is. But law school is pretty nasty too, and we're all doing that...

Does The Ring Mean Nothing?

If running four miles and slipping back into day clothes without taking a shower, smelling like a gym bag with feet, and having an unmade-up face with dark circles under your eyes will not stop a man from hitting on you, you would at least think the wedding ring would right? Wrong, I guess.

I was minding my own business at the ferry terminal, finishing some school work on my laptop when a guy who introduces himself to me as "Jaybird" politelty yet unappealingly tries to strike up a conversation. He starts asking me all kinds fo personal questions and I'm trying to dodge them all without being too rude. My latest tactic is to just smile annoying guys off- as if I think they are crazy-- apparently this doesn't work.

"That's a really pretty smile you have. You just made my day." says "Jaybird" IF that's his REAL name.

Ok, I'm a sucker for compliments, even inappropriate and unwelcomed ones. I unintentionally smile bigger. Ok, fine, I admit that I'm insecure like that.

Jaybird is relentless: "That's great that you're in school. I bet your teachers talk like this...." he procedes to do an awful impression of a deep monotone voice. I want to tell him that none of my professors talk like that but I smile and ignore him some more.

"I keep meaning to go back to school. I'm going to study archeology." Ok he caught my interest.

"Just like Indiana Jones." I finally respond, I can't help making an Indiana Jones reference. He's my personal hero.

"yeah, I loved those movies...it would be cool to just start digging and find a pyramid or something." Says Jaybird.

Ummmm..... I'm pretty sure there is much more to it than that. "Did you know the fourth one is coming out in a month!?" Ok, I'm clearly a dipshit, but I'm still overtaken by bliss knowing the long awaited fourth installment of Indiana Jones is around the corner.

In the end Jaybird asks me if he can take me to the movie when it comes out. Damn. I hate saying no, I feel bad. Perhaps did I lead him on? Nah. Trying to be obvious, I scratch my face with my ring finger, flashing some diamonds and hoping he will catch on. Come on guy, I'm trying to help! But I guess I need to throw a brick at his head with the message written on it because finally, in front of the entire line of passengers waiting to board, he asks me really loudly if I have a boyfriend. I break the news and I am finally free of his pursuits.

I used to think wearing a wedding ring would rid me of unwanted, horny men. I think my wedding ring is broken.

President's Day: A National Celebration of Shopping

I celebrated President's Day the right way. I went to an outlet mall near Seattle with a girl from law school that I have known since highschool. No, she isn't exactly a friend because half the time I am with her I want to pull out my hair, shove cotton balls in my ears and explode my internal organs out of my nose. But, for a shopping spree, I can tolerate anyone.

The fourty minute drive outside Seattle to the outlet store went pretty fast considering I was forced to listen to The Friend's diatribe about how her grandparents prefer her to all the other grandchildren in her family. She was so very proud of this that I didn't have the heart to remind her that her grandparents only had four grandchildren.

It's not that she means to be annoying, I'm sure. I bet the fact that she complains to me (someone with a LEGITIMATE concern about failing law school) about failing law school depsite being on law revieiw and among the top 15% of the class can just be attributed to her lack of social human contact. So can the fact that she says men are only good for being personal slaves. That she has never had a boyfriend in her life (nor kissed a boy- I'd put money on it). Also she goes to Mexican restaurants specifically to order a cheeseburger or chicken nuggets. Oh, and she only eats her burgers plain (no tomotatoes, no lettuce, no pickle, no ketchup!)- that is the signal of a social miscreant if I ever saw one. Enough of my ranting...before I'm sentenced to the fifth circle of Dante's hell.

Once we got to the outlet mall, The Friend immediately dragged me into a Coach store. More than anyother time during my pregnancy, I wanted to puke (not from morning sickness either). I wanted to puke all over those colorful, overpriced bags plastered with the letter "c." (I'm pretty sure I know which episode of Sesame Street the designer watched as a child). I just don't get the whole Coach thing at all. Is it about status? Is it about fitting in? Is it about blowing ridiculous amounts of money on things we don't need? As I was pushed, climbed on and run into by the designer purse hungry mob which overfilled the small store, I was ever so grateful for my own $20 Target purse.

I did wallet damage of my own once I stepped into Gymboree. I couldn't resist. Despite promising my husband I would not buy any babyclothes until we knew the gender, my personal strength was broken by a slew of matching octopus onesies-- with matching pants and hat, of course! Yes, I insisted that they were gender neutral because: since when is blue a color to be worn exclusively by boys? That's ridiculous! Plus watching our baby wear a cute octopus shirt will outweigh any emotional damage our baby girl might suffer from wearing a boys outfit at the age of 3 months.

The highlight of the day was food. I ate my third burger in five days, and it was so juicy and delicious. I think giving in that third time officially ended my cravings for burgers, thankgoodness. The last three days I've wanted to eat nothing but Safeway's General Tsao's chicken.

Panties That Have A Lot To Say

It's been a while since I've worn a thong. Since I like to work out and they do not make the best workout undergarments, I really only wear them for special occassions. But, apparently, it's been much too long...

You know it's been too long when you forget which part of the thong is the back and which part is the front. Sadly, it wasn't until the thong was halfway up my thigh that I remembered the string goes in the back...good thing no one was watching.

Panty tangent:

Those shorts and sweats with the writing on the butt have always bewildered me. Why would anyone want writing on their tush? Apparently they have a Jennifer Lopez booty inferiority complex and need some extra attention drawn to their backsides. That's what I always thought anyway. Thank you contemporary fashion for giving me something to laugh at.

So I went to Victoria's Secret to buy new panties- they always have the 5 for $25 deal but they never have my size in any of the cute colors or prints. It never fails. I was stuck with grey, grey with orange stripes (ew), plain vanilla, physcodellic flower print and.....my eye caught a blue! It was too good to be true, a cute blue panty in my size! I swiped it off the table and rushed my goods to the check out counter. Days later as I was washing my new batch of panties I discovered something shocking.

Out of all the phrases and words to put on the backside of a pair of panties, some are clearly more appropriate than others. Out of all the phrases to be taken out of context when placed on the backside of a panty, some are simply beyond amusing. On the backside of my cute pair of panties was the phrase, "Wish you were here." This would be just weird if it meant the general conotation of wish you were with me...but clearly this phrase could have the more specific conotation of- wish you were here...in my, ahem, butt.

Not surprisingly, my husband thinks these panties are very funny.

Should Have Joined The Circus

Things I don't like to do: sit in an office at a desk all day, clean...ANYTHING, fold laundry, read cases.

Things I like to do: bake cookies, breads and desserts, cook dinner, watch movies, watch tv shows just because they are on, read Jane Austen, hold babies, physically create things, sit on the couch, eat Robin Eggs.

I wish I could find a way to do only the things I like to do and never do the things I hate. But I guess my character would never develop and I would be lazy, spoiled, afraid of new things and unable to function in the real world. Still, wouldn't it be great?

Parts of me long to be a stay at home mom. Not because it's easy- because I know it is anything but easy. I mean, a stay at home mom is like a child development expert. She is a nurse, a culinary expert, a teacher, an organizer, an accountant, a houshold manager, and a child entertainment specialist. But all the things associated with staying home and caring for children and the household are things I genuinely enjoy (except for cleaning but that's what a chore chart is for).

Yet parts of me are also afriad to become a mom, let alone a stay at home mom. When I babysit I can't help but notice the haggard, tired, frustrated looks on the faces of the moms. They smile ear to ear when they talk about their children but their children also suck the energy out of them. I've come to accept that when you have kids, you begin an 18 year hiatus from sleeping in, having down time, thinking only about yourself, being able to go anywhere you want anytime you want. It's more than a little frightening. But I also know that when you hold a person that you create in your arms, it all becomes worth it. Still, I have a long and hard 18 year journey ahead of me...

Sometimes I can't imagine myself being at home with kids all day, I always imagined myself in a suit doing Something Important in an Office. I used to have such huge career ambitions. Each year of graduate schooling has slowly wittled these desires down. Law school has left me exhausted and apathetic. The job market is impossible. I am just sick of trying to compete and coming up empty handed. I don't need the system telling me that I'm not good enough and not smart enough. I don't need this. Plus, I'm creative- I need to create. I'm a doer, not a sit at a desk all dayer.

Sometimes I'm positive I ended up in the wrong place. I should be teaching highschool or on a path to teaching college. I should be starting my own business or company, or making movies, or directing plays. I should be a political campaing manager or a district representative. I should be painting or drawing or teaching art.

Or I should just be with my babies, holding them, watching them and helping them grow. I'm too broken and dissillusioned to handle the rat race of the legal profession anymore.

Show Your Love With Produce

Since I have night class on Thursdays, my husband and I decided to celebrate valentine's day on Saturday. Apparently the entire world was also out having dinner because the first four restaraunts we went to had 45 minutes wait times. We finally found a place that could seat us immediately (I was starving after a four mile run!). I was craving a burger and fries, but this place only had strange gourmet food. To my surprise, my husband ordered gourmet meatloaf...which turned out not too bad. I ended up settling just on a salad (trip to the grocery store later for real food and frozen yogurt!). I love exploring new restaraunts, to me it's just as good as travelling to new and distant, far off countries-- except I can speak the language and don't have to sit on a plane next to an over friendly passenger who wants to play the game 100 questions, topic: my life.

Even though we weren't planning on celebrating valentine's day on Thursday, my husband surprised me with a "thinking of you" gift. He brought me a bottle of Diet Snapple, a bag of apples, and.... a cucumber.

Yes, this was a little weird but there is some context behind it. For the snapple and the apples, they are just foods that I love. It was pretty thoughtful of him to buy me something that I could really use, he saved me a trip to the store! As far as the cucumber goes (for those of you who need clarification- it was NOT a gift to keep me busy when he goes to bed early. You have clearly been watching too much youtube for even thinking such a thing...), I have been craving cucumbers soaked in wine vinegar this week. In fact, I've eaten a total of four whole cucumbers in just five days.

Ok, so cucumbers are close to the typical pickle pregnancy craving but I still pride myself in being original.

Thank You Doctor!

For recommending Colace...my pregnant life would be ten times more miserable without it!

Treadmill War

I love playing Treadmill War with the person next to me at the gym. Everytime I get on a treadmill next to a man and start pumping up the speed, I initiate an automatic macho male response from the guy next to me. If I happen to be running faster than Mr. Overcompensation, he will usually, without fail, crank his speed up at least a couple notches past my own. When I finish my one mile warm up and increase my speed again, it's hilarious to watch him do the same. Hey guy, what' so awful about a girl being able to run faster than you?

Although sometimes this makes me mad enough to play his stupid game and match his speed, lately I just let it roll down my back. I want to soothe his fragile manhood by cheering, "good for you, you can run faster than a pregnant lady!" Of course, I don't.

At Loyola, I used to run in the indoor gym and I frequently ran at the same times as a man known within my friend circle as Creepy Man. Creepy Man looked like he was in his fifties, and he was always walking around campus in his sweatpants. Oh, did I mention he had the contemporary version of a mullet? And he actually RAN indoors in long sleeve sweats and his entire shirt would be soaked in circular sweat stains- ew. Anyway, Creepy Man was always running at the same time I was. He usually would keep the pace of a quick jog-- until I joined him on the track, then I would watch him pick up to the pace of a sprint. This was always accompanied by his loud and panty grunting. He would stop when he was way ahead of me to catch his breath, but the second I was almost caught up, he would jump back on the track and start all over.

Men really need to grow up!

Happy Heart Day

This week I've been thinking a lot about my husband. I have been thinking about how, even though we are married, I'm still as much "in lust" with him as I am "in love" with him. There are so many reasons why I love him and most of those reasons cannot be put into words. For the few that can be...

First of all, he is pretty easy to love (even when he drives me insane). It might not always be easy but I know that our promises and commitments to love each other through the hard parts will pull us through and carry us to even better times.

I love that when I am having a bad day, all it takes is a snuggle on the couch and a movie to make everything all better. He's the best snuggler. And when i'm crabby and snappy, he never calls me out on it. He lets me vent and then shows me that he still loves me.

He's very sexy and so cute- in sweats, when he's sweating on the treadmill in his gym outfit, when he's all dressed up for work or even when he's just kicking it in jeans and sneakers. There isn't anything he does that I don't think is cute (except maybe when he goes into a regular cleaning tizzy leaving the house spotless, then I just feel guilty for my failure of being a "neat" person and proceed to make a new mess in the middle of the living room).

In the morning before he leaves for work and I'm still in bed, all I have to do is lift my arms in the air and he comes over, bends down and gives me a big hug.

When I feel fat or ugly or both, he makes me feel pretty and special anyway.

He's kind-- to everyone. He always does the right thing whether its helping other people, visiting his grandma or givng a friend a hand. Sometimes his kindness brings out the worst in me because that means I have to share him! :)

I cant believe how supportive and sympathetic he has been during the past 12 weeks. I know he will be an awesome dad. It will be so exciting to watch him teach our baby new things, to take the baby on walks with me, and show the baby how to clean up after mama. lol. Sometimes, although I think its cute, I think he might worry too much about our family. I just hope he never feels overwhelmed or burdened because we don't need fancy new things, we just need each other.

PAP: The Most Dreaded Acronym In The English Language

Yesterday I had my first OB/Gyno appointment. I know...ME... the girl who is deathly afraid of doctors and faints when she enters a hospital. I am still so proud of myself for going through with it. I'm proud that I refrained from running down the hall screaming for my husband when they called my name. And that I only poured tears sniffled for the first 30 minutes of sitting in the wait room. That I didn't throw a small child in front of me when they came to "collect" blood samples.

I ended up waiting in the wait room for over an hour- omg, this just let the fear of the impending unpleasant procedures sink into my head and brew and boil for much longer than I would have liked. I read an entire Parenting magazine from front to cover. I looked at the pictures of all the smiling moms and thought- they did this too and look they're still smiling...

Eventually they called my name. The nurse directed me to the bathroom and asked me to pee in a cup. Ok, so how high should I fill the cup? Do they want me to fill it all the way? That's kinda gross AND embarrassing because it shows how much I can pee at one time (alot). Should I be generous with my sample or should I be modest? I never know. So I figure, can't go wrong with halfway right? I always worry- what if its too orange and they think I'm dehydrated, but if its too clear is that bad? oh man, I think about this WAY too much!

The nurse comes into my room and asks me some pretty innocent questions: have I ever had a UTI, have I ever had a rash...down there, do I want the baby (what?!), do I have abnormal discharge, what's the most embarrassing thing I've ever done? I keep thinking, omg, I barely know you. Then she pulls out what I think is a handtowel and hands it to me, "you can put this on after the doctor comes in to see you. The doctor will examine you while you're (que the cheesy Titanic line) wearing this...only this."

The doctor comes in and I finally get to meet the person who will be touching my most intimate parts for the next six months or so. The first thing she says is, "are you pregnant?" Um, woudl I be here if I wasn't? When I tell her that I've never had a Pap before she says, "don't worry, I haven't killed anyone doing one yet." great. thanks. alot. sooooo hilarious. When I have to put the gown on, I start to cry. I feel so humiliated and exposed. And the room is freezing! Each layer I took off made the tears flow in greater volume. Overall, it wasn't THAT bad even though it was REALLY uncomfortable, even stung for a bit, and stripped away all my dignity. It didn't help that my doctor described each thing she was about to do, the ability to anticipate what was going to happen just gave me greater anxiety. I kept thinking, just do it already be-otch!

The doctor listened to my heart and then asked, "are you a runner? You're heart rate is 49, that's really low, but don't worry it means you're heart is healthy." I beamed and answered yes. I love when people recognize the fact that I am a runner, it makes my day and shows me that all my running isn't for nothing. Plus, I just love being identified as a runner because, to me, it's a big part of my identity.

The only good thing about this whole experience was that I got to hear the baby's heartbeat. Omg, it's amazing. I heard it before at my untrasound but the experience is just breathtaking. The only tangible sign I really have that there is life inside me, not just a parasite. The baby's heart beat is 160...and just perfect. It's amazing to think the baby's little heart can pump so fast and so hard.

The very last thing I had to do was give the doctor blood samples. The tech escorted me to a room and joked, "I hope you brought you're big veins today. The doctor wants me to take half of your blood." OMG... He sat me down and they filled 15 vials of blood! Of course, I looked away but I also counted the vials the tech laid out on the table. I felt that damn sharp needle go into my arm each time. I warned the technician that I usually faint afterwards. Well, about a minute into it, I started seeing spots, and my ears plugged up. All I could hear was my own breathing. I started breathing so fast I thought I was going to die or hyperventalate. The world started to spin and I said, "i'm fainting!" The tech told me to hang on, they had to fill seven more vials.

OMG. I tried so hard to hang on. All I could see was blackness, I was so scared! Then he must have finished because he was suddenly wipping my arm with a cloth. I couldn't see or hear anything (but my own rapid breathing) but i felt something cold on my face and the back of my neck. I woke up a couple minutes later and they gave me apple juice and licorice. That was the most uncomfortable experience ever. I felt so helpless and out of control of my own body. I almost would rather have another Pap than have to give that much blood again.

BOOBS!

I have refrained from blogging about pregnancy boobs so far but I can't hold it back any longer.

I LOVE my new boobs!

They are incredible. Sometimes I catch myself grazing them in class and I have to look down to make sure I really grazed MY boobs and not someone else's. Why? Because they are huge! And round. And firm (but soft). For the first time in my life I have a semblance of cleavage. Sometimes, I accidently turn myself on with my new boobs at the most inconvenient times (and sometimes I do it on purpose at very convenient times ;)-- sorry if TMI.

I have always been a girl who appreciated boobs in members of the same sex. A "boob girl" if you will. I have always found my own size 34AAs somewhat dissapointing, but I guess they did serve their purpose when I was a competative runner. My boobs grew instantly in the early weeks of pregnancy, before I even knew I was pregnant. I thought I was just gaining weight or "sprouting" later in life. I slowly stretched out my size A bras (Victoria Secret doesn't make AA for some reason). Just two weeks ago, I couldn't take it anymore. My bras were too small and too uncomfortable to squeeze into.

I roamed down aisle after aisle of all the pretty, fun bras that had been "off limits" to me before (they do not make nearly as many attractive bras for smaller sizes). I was in heaven. EVERY size B bra I tried on fit me perfectly. For the first time in my life, I enjoyed bra shopping. I never dreamed I could fit into a size B.

Just days after I bought a couple size B bras, they started to become tight on me. OMG. My boobs are on steroids! I think I'm still too small for size C, but it's nice to know they could be just around the corner. Too bad they won't stay like this forever.

BTW: the experience of feeling your boobs bounce when you jog to catch the bus or run on a treadmill.... so amazing! I've been missing out for so many years....

Cash Only

We were exiting a parking garage today when the parking attendant informed us that he only took cash. No checks. No debit cards. No credit cards. I expect this from a parking lot where you stuff the cash into a box-- but not where there is an attendent with a register and a booth.

My husband looked at me in shock and said, "the only people who only accept cash are children and criminals!"

How ridiculous! I had to get out of the car, run across the street to an ATM machine (with a $3 fee) and run back to pay the guy so we could drive off. totally lame.

Getting Our Culture On

Somehow, I convinced my husband to see a ballet with me today. I was surprised that he said yes...especially since it was the ballet of Romeo and Juliet. The dancing was pretty amazing. Someone like me who often trips on her own shoes walking down a straight sidewalk will always be amazed at the coordination of the performers. And their grace. And they way they flip and lift each other in the air.

I never really had a thing for ballet dancing. It usually seemed boring to me. Well....there was that one time in first grade when I was convinced I wanted to be a ballerina. My mom enthusiastically signed me up for lessons. On the first day, I saw all the little girls in tutus lined up in a row by the ballet bar (no idea what it's called). Suddenly out of a seemingly innocent plastic bag, my mom pulled out a tutu, a pair of tights and slippers. She handed them to me. I glanced at the bubblegum pink, ruffly tutu and the lacey heart tights in shock and horror as if my mom was handing me the head of dead racoon. From that moment on, my dreams of becoming a ballerina were crushed...and shortly replaced with dreams of being a ninja turte.

Other than that one time, I never even thought of going to a ballet. But this weekend we both gave it a shot. In addition to the dancing, the music was amazing. So were the simple yet creative set designs. The entire time I was holding my breath- that my husband wouldn't hate me for taking him to this. With each romantic dance duet between Romeo and Juliet...they tended to drag on more than necessary, I stole glances at my husband hoping he wasn't asleep.

But at the end, my husband said he enjoyed it, and he sounded sincere. He even told me he wanted to buy the music because he liked it so much. I was pretty shocked. In fact, I almost get the sense that he enjoyed it more than I did (I miss plays with dialogues and song lyrics). Then again, I might have enjoyed it a little more if I wasn't worried about him hating it.

Things I am In Hate With Today

Today, I am finding frustration around every corner, I am declaring myself "in hate" with the following things:

Ebay: Damn you ebay! I really didn't want to spend $37 on the Special Edition DVD of Disney's Beauty and the Beast. I got so caught up in the bidding game that I was determined not to let "blondiehottie" swipe the item away from me in the last hour. Seriously, who does she thinks she is? Can someone named "blondiehottie" really have a legitimate interest in classic Disney cartoons anyway? If I couldn't win the item for $7.50, there is no way I would let "blondiehottie" snatch it away for anything less than her maximum bid! Ebay makes me a bitter person because I hate to lose.

Update: I have been outbid again. The winner of the precious Disney cartoon is paying $43- OMG for a Disney cartoon?!?!

My law school copy machine: We have a brand new law building- it opened a year or two before I enrolled. Everything in the building is immaculate...except for the 15 year old copy machines which take coins ONLY and jam every other page. 5 dollars and 30 minutes later, I had successfully copied a ten page article for class.

Law School Librarian Man: This guy is stupid. Each time the printer jammed I had to ask him to help. Instead of being gracious and allowing me to use (JUST ONCE) the faculty copier a room away, he insisted on playing games with the stubborn machine. He used phrases like "holy guacamole" and "gee-wizz" when the machine kept failing to cooperate. When I complained of having lost $4.50 in this little "adventure" he got all huffy and his face turned as bright at the striped on his shirt. When he walked away from me I heard him say, "oh, for pete's sake!"

My appetite: Sometimes I feel like I'm training for a sumo wrestling match. Before 11 am today I have had: a bowl of high fiber cereal with soy milk, an apple, an avocado-turkey-tomato sandwich, a banana and one fifth of a donut. I'm always super hungry in the morning but thankfully my appetite wears thin by midafternoon so I don't keep chowing down as if I'm about to eat the planet or something. I'm just tired of having to pack so much to eat and lug it around campus. I'm also tired of the weird looks I get as I pull food after food out of my backpack in between classes. One day I'm going to make a 12 inch sub sandwich or whole pizza and pull it out of my backpack in the library.

Raisins: I HATE raisins! Well, I love the way they taste, especially in Raisin Bran and in cinnamon rolls. But whenever I eat them, they make my stomach hurt so badly! My tummy just can't digest them I guess. I find this ironic considering how healthy they are and the fact that I can digest a sugar covered donut just fine...no pain at all (except maybe the pain of guilt).

My bus: I always seem to ride the buses driven by inexperienced bus drivers. As the bus lurches forward and backward between stop lights, and as the bus stalls for the fifth time on one of Seattle's steep hills sending the entire bus backward 10 feet into the car behind us I want to scream from behind the old fat man standing directly in front of me smothering my face, "Did you get your license at Walmart?!"

Other things that I am in hate with right now that do not warrant an entire paragraph include: the hour long ferry ride, the ferry's internet service I paid for that hasn't worked for a month, the fact that Seattle U School of Law never declares "snow days," and the way my cats walk in front of my feet and trip me every morning.

Other than that, life is good and I'm not bitter....I swear!

Barack 'n Roll

I grew up in a fairly conservative family-- my grandpa listened religiously to Rush Limbaugh and my mom waits for the Catholic church to publish it's voter's guide (i.e. strongly urged suggestions that will keep you out of hell's fire) before she goes to the polls.

I also grew up in a super liberal city. In fifth grade we had a school wide mock election. I was proud to be among the three students who voted for George Bush- Ross Perot had a bigger turnout. When Bill Clinton won that year, I was super afraid. I was afraid because my mom's "God will rain fire upon the earth" chats with me about Bill Clinton had me convinced that because American had a pro-choice president, the world was coming to an end. I seriously thought I was going to wake up one morning and my life would be over. I was terrified.

I have a special place in my heart for elections. I think it's because of these hilarious childhood memories, but it's also because I majored in Political Science and proclaimed myself an expert on all things political. (I now know that there is so much I do not know or understand).

This year, I can't help it. I have Obama-fever. I was in Chicago and watched with excitement as he won the Senate seat. He had me from the beginning. He's brilliant. He always knows what to say. He is humble yet confident. I find his speeches to be exciting and intelligent. He has good plans for our country's future. He's totally handsome. And it's just a plus that he went to Harvard Law School and can sympathize with the dread that I am going through right now.

I think America needs Obama. We need someone new and fresh. We need someone idealistic and open minded. I have complete confidence that he can replenish our currently poor reputation around the world. I know where Obama stands and I know he is about bringing people together on issues. The fact that he has no White House experience is all the more reason to vote for him. I want someone who can think like a real person, not like a politician.

I'm an Obama mama for so many reasons. The biggest reason, however, is his enthusiasm. He is sweeping the country with his bright smile, plan for change and his catchy enthusiasm. I have never been so excited about a candidate in my life. I would seriously give my left arm for him to win the Presidential election...

I respect the fact that Obama is married and loves his wife and children...but seriously, I can't control my wild fantasies of Obama, me, a bottle of wine and the President's White House Suit.... :) Someone slap me please, I really need it.

Unique Units of Measurement

Wow, I can't believe my baby is already 1.5 inches long (according to various websources)! For a while it seemed like the baby would never be bigger than a "small crab apple."

Can I just ask- what is it with these crazy pregnancy website that measure the size of unborn babies in relation to fruit, veggies, and legumes?

According to BabyCenter, my baby was first the size of a poppy seed, then a sesame seed, lentil bean, blueberry, kidney bean, grape, then a kumquat (lol, what the hell is a kumquat?!). At eleven weeks, I'm thrilled to know that my baby is the size of a FIG!

Another website, (I-am-pregnant.com) describes a baby's 8-11 week sizes using the following terms: "pinto bean" a "medium green olive" a "small plum" and a "large lime." I especially like the very specific use of words like "medium" and "small" and "large." Because without going to the supermarket and looking at ALL the fruit, I definately could not tell the difference between a medium and a large lime not to mention the difference between a small and medium green olive.

When my baby is 16 years old and someone asks me how tall he/she is, I will say: "He/she is about the size of eleven large watermelons."

Just A Little Lonely

I don't mean to keep writing "woe is me" posts, but that's just how I feel lately. I'm almost done, I swear. It feels much better to write it out when I feel depressed so thank you internet, fellow bloggers who put up with it, and the First Amendment right to free speech.

I realized after my rant from last post, exactly why I was feeling so sad, well one reason anyway. I realized that I was just feeling lonely (ok, maybe lonely on steroids). I felt abandoned all weekend. I was alone with no one to bounce off of. My husband has a lot of friends and he was visiting them all weekend, I had no one.

I don't have friends in law school. I was just getting to know people in my section last year- but now that we aren't in sections, I never see them. My good friend from law school took the semester off, so I basically roam the halls in between my classes and stare at a sea of faces I don't know. I feel so lonely at school. I see everyone else forming cliques and talking about their law school parties and I just feel so left out. I'm horrible at making new friends because I like to have close friends rather than acquaintances...and I just dont have the time to make those close friends.

I just started finding my place in Chicago, but then I graduated and moved back to the Northwest. All my highschool friends have fled the area or just aren't the stuff friends are really made of. I know it takes a friend to have a friend. That's part of the problem. With work, school and everything else, I dont have time for a social life. Right now, I'm really missing it. I need a girl friend that I can tell everything to. Someone I can go out with or just get coffee with. I'm tired of adopting my husband's friends. Although myhusband is my best friend, most of the time, I'm tired of relying only on him for my friendship needs.

Just so lonely....(whenever I say that word the lyrics to Mr. Lonely by Bobby Vinton run through my head, lol)

*BTW: after that last post I decided to go see a movie by myself, I hadn't done that in a while. It was kinda fun. I saw 27 Dresses, which I did not have high hopes for going in, but it was sooo cute! I love the actress in that movie, she is such a real person (not model skinny- but human) and she's adorable/beautiful. The movie wasn't overly sappy- I thought there were some witty parts even. Made me stop crying for two consecutive hours.

BAD BAD WEEKEND

Thank you to everyone who gave me good recommendation re: my "problem" mentioned in the last post. I did try prune juice once, but drinking it made me gag, so I am excited to try yummy prune yogurt- and I never thought of eating whole prunes!

This has been a very disapointing weekend for me. It may be all in my head, but knowing that just makes me feel worse.

I have been babysitting every Friday almost since I can remember. I continue to babysit even though I should probably phase it out now because I'm too tired and being tired makes the once "cute" kids seem like little holy terrors. I babysat three kids this Friday (4 years, 2 years, 3 months) for eight hours. It took a lot out of me and all I really wanted to do was come home and cuddle with my husband.

Early Saturday my husband had to help drive his mom down to Oregon. So I woke up alone in my house. I ran my errands and had a "me" day. Then I planned a big fun meal, my husband's favorite. Except he called halfway through my cooking to tell me he was going to visit a friend and wouldn't come home until late. I was really upset. I know he has a right to visit his friends. But I was looking forward to being with him all day. So I pouted in the phone and said "that's stupid." His reply was, "I think it's stupid when you babysit." This totally pissed me off. I've been babysitting forever- he knows that and it's a way for me to make extra money. So he knows that we get to hang out on Saturday instead. Apparently he didn't seem to care. So ever since he called me yesterday to tell me that, I have been depressed and on the verge of tears. I had my family over to eat the food I made. When they left, I was exhausted and fell asleep. Husband came home aroud 10, but I was mad and tired and went straight to bed.

Today was my day to study. I packed up my books and head to Starbucks to be productive. Barely exchanged a "hi" with my husband. I still felt crappy and sad and angry (are my emotions running away from me?). When I got to Starbucks, I realized I left my book at home which made me feel worse. I read a couple assigned articles for a different class but I got frustrated because they were so complicated that I couldn't understand them. After two hours I left Starbucks and realized I left my purse there. It was still there where I left it but that was the last straw. I started crying all the way home.

I got home and my husband tells me he's going to watch the superbowl with his friends. This makes me more angry. I decline his invitation to come with. I hate football and I can't even drink beer and the last thing I want to do is go see his friends and be smelled and licked by their stupid dog all afternoon.

I walk in the door in a tempest of anger/sadness. I throw all my stuff on the floor in front of me, including my keys which I will probably never find again, and bawl for two hours straight. I can feel my body shake from my crying. I let myself cry as loud as I want and I even hear the neighbors dog howling back at me. My cats skitter to the other side of the house. Everything I think and everything I see makes me cry even more. I'm so angry at this point. I shake the refrigerator until I hear glass break (oops what was that- oh well, I don't care). I shred the latest edition of my Foreign Policy Magazine to pieces- then crumple those pieces up into a tight ball. I look for things to destroy but I realize I'm not THAT insane. I desperately want to plug in all the appliances, turn on all the lights and crank the thermostat up to 80 just to make my husband mad.

I can't control myself right now. I just wanted to spend the weekend with my husband after not seeing him all week but now I'm so angry I don't even want to see him. At the same time, I'm pissed off that he left and ruined any chance that we might hang out before this next week starts and the business starts all over again. We haven't "baby danced" in a long time- I never want to anymore because I'm usually tired or sick and he never takes the initiative. I know this is mean, but now I want to hold it back from him on purpose FOR THE REST OF HIS LIFE!

Productive In All Ways But School

Today I managed to be productive- without touching my law school homework. What troubled, demonic soul invented homework anyway? You spend hours at school in class each week, supposedely learning stuff. Who wants to come home and fill their weekends up with more schooling? It doesn't make any sense to me....for lack of better words, it's completely lame!

Today I was in need of a free "me" day. I needed to get out of the house and do stuff that I didn't usually do everyday of the week. I needed to go somewhere and not have an agenda or a schedule. It felt so good and I only felt guilty for neglecting my homework just once.

First I went to Safeway to stock up on "poo-friendly"foods that I am in desperate need of. I bought Fig Newtons, dates, dried apricots, high-fiber cereal, apples, almonds, grapes and 100% juice. I know these wont work, but I have to keep trying or else I will slink into poo-less depression for the next seven months.

Then I went to Michaels craft store and bought material to make a baby shower gift for my sister-in-law. I made the cutest "diaper-wreath." I found the instructions on some website a while ago. Its a wreath made out of diapers with small baby things tied on with ribbon- the cutest baby gift ever!

I also went to a linen store to browse crib bedding for our nursery. I wonder when it's no longer "too-early" to start buying baby things? I'm so eager- but my husband insists it's still "too early." I can't find a good "airplane" theme bedding set anywhere. The ones I have found so far aren't my favorites. I desperately want a new comforter set for our own bed too. Right now we have one that gives me "college dorm room" vibes. I want something mature and "married-ish" that you would expect to find on the bed of a grown up, married couple. It's silly but I feel like I can't properly become a parent with a dorm room bed....I actually found a set I really liked, but man, so expensive. And I already know my husband wont like it, we never agree on things like this.

I went to Safeway....again... to buy some meat and refrigerated items. I was even brave enough to buy an eggplant! I decided to try to make one of my husband's favorite dishes- eggplant parmesian. I got home and started it and realized I was STILL missing ingredients. So Safeway got to see me three times today. Cooking new things is always exciting to me. Actually, I love to cook anything at all- but especially unique dishes that take a little extra time. I like to make everything from scratch too, if I can. I like to make my own bread and sometimes my own yogurt (its so hard though!). I feel so accomplished putting my creations on the dinner table. I sometimes wish I had gone to culinary school :) But that's gotta be a profession in which staying slim is impossible.