Things Husband Needs To Learn Before The Baby Comes

1. You cannot substitute a car seat by putting baby on a bed matress in the back of a pick up truck.

2. Babies cannot drink Rainier Beer. Until they are at least six months old.

3. Not only is it unsanitary, but it is impossible to train the baby to use our cats' litter boxes.

4. Regardless of your own father's behavior (yeah, I know, you turned out alright- but DID you?), an outdoor "hosedown" is not an appropriate way to clean a baby's dirty bottom or to give a baby a bath.

5. Tempting as it may be, you cannot clothe a baby in garbage bags, or a towel.

6. He will have an obligatory role in midnight feedings: bringing me a glass of wine and a bar of chocolate.

18 Weeks

I can no longer deny the inevitability of waistline growth that awaits me. For the longest time I was in firm denial that unlike all other pregnant women on the planet and against the million year old laws of nature, I wouldn't gain a pound or grown an inch during my pregnancy. This was easy to believe at first too. I ate ALL the time and I even lost a pound or two in my first two months.

When my jeans started to get a little snug, I turned a blind eye and blamed the shrinking phenomenon on my washing machine. When the beginnings of a teeny bulge started form- what bulge? It's just this awkward fitting shirt. It's the hamburger I ate last night. Its the four cups of water I just downed. That's just one week's worth of poo build up (gross, I know). See, I can still fit into my tight running shorts...[proceed to waddle around the gym baring a belly "muffin top" and holding my breath so that the tight elastic bands don't cut off any more of my circulation].

This past week I've had to abandon my delusions and I'm actually beginning to accept the fact that I'm becoming a little rounder. It's pretty noticable when I'm wearing a tight shirt or a tank top (it doesnt look like a baby belly yet, it looks more like a couple pounds of fat got together and decided to have a party on my stomach) but when I wear a sweater, coat or dress, you still would have no idea I was pregnant at all.

I don't know if I'm following any norms regarding my weight gain. Every woman's body is different so I have no idea how to compare with the experiences of other pregnant people. At 18 weeks, I've almost gained 5 pounds. And I guess from here on out I'm supposed to gain one pound a week. Omg, is that physically possible?!

A big change I've noticed latelty is in my appetite. From two to three months pregnant I was ALWAYS hungry. Every smell made me want to eat. Oatmeal scents wafted through the air and a minute later, I would be cramming oatmeal down my throat. My crazed appetite would get a whiff of car exhaust and somehow make a connection to mustard pretzels and then I NEEDED some right NOW! My stomach was an unsatiable beast. It wanted tacos one minute and cucumbers the next. I typically ate three meals before 1pm.

Now, I'm back to my normal appetite. Is the beast on hiatus or is he lurking somewhere waiting to strike at the most unexpected time?

I can't decide if I want to continue to document my growing belly by taking weekly photos- like some women do, or if I want to feed my denial and break all the mirrors in my house over the next 22 weeks. What I do know is that I'm gonna need some stretchy pants really soon.

I know I'm going to regret this, but here it is- the non-flattering, bad postured, kitty PJ, obligatory 18 week belly photo... (is it just me or am I carrying pretty high?)

Lawschool Is Driving Me Into An Apathy-Induced Coma

When it comes to law school classes this semester, I am a triple pile-up car wreck with auto parts flying in the air, skid marks all over the ground, and huge puddles of leaking oil. My classmates are the passerbys looking on with mouths agape, screaming in horror.

Ok, maybe that description is a little extreme, but I really can't over estimate my inability to focus, my complete lack of motivation towards the drudgery of studying, and almost complete apathy towards my future legal career. On weekends, I would rather do a sink full of dirty dishes BY HAND (we dont have a dishwasher), two full loads of laundry, and a complete dusting sweep of the furniture in my house rather than sit down with my International Business Transactions book.

I get to school in the mornings, scramble to skim the assignment for my class in 60 minutes, give up halfway through and look for the nearest available mental distraction. I cower deep in my seat whenever a professor scans the classroom for his next victim. I am so far behind in all my readings that it will take a "raising from the dead" category of miracle for me to catch up. I look to the end of the semester with raw excitement and utter dread at the same time because I know I will never be prepared enough to do well on any of my exams but I just FREAKING want to be DONE ALREADY!

Oh, did I mention I have a whole 'nother year of law school to go after this? Why didn't I just listent to my mom and become a highschool english teacher? WHY?!

Here are some of the reasons why I cannot be productive:

There is a tiny human growing inside me, eating my food and sucking energy from my body. All I can think about is: how big is he/she now? According to Babycenter.com its as big as a green pepper! How much does he/she weigh now? Is it a boy or a girl? Could there be twins? When will the doctor call me for my next ultrasound?! Do I have to shave Down There before delivery? How will I even reach Down There? Will my boobs still be this sore when I have to nurse? Was that the baby moving or just gas?

My sister in law recently gave birth to her first child this week. Holding him was amazing and I can't stop thinking about his little tiny fingers and his cute chubby cheeks. Visiting her in the hospital also gave me the most ferocious itch to have a baby RIGHT NOW. I can't wait 5 more months, I'll explode. Hmm... in a couple more weeks my baby will be viable (no Cee, don't get any crazy ideas!).

My sister in law's baby stole our future son's middle name. Now what the heck am I supposed to do? It was the only middle name I liked. I will hold a grudge against this kid for the rest of his life. Time to go name hunting...again.

I'm waiting to hear back from a firm about a legal job for the summer. Parts of me really want this job- its a great firm and a great opportunity. The other parts of me don't want this job. I don't want to commute 4 hours a day and I really want to stay home all summer and eat bon bons.

Tangible & Transient

Last night as I lay on my husband's chest while we were falling asleep, I felt so comfortable and so in love with him. His arm was wrapped around me and his soft breath skimmed across the top of my head. As I caressed his chest with my hand, I felt like I was holding the world. As if I was surrounded by everything that ever mattered in this life. I realized that if it was possible to physically clasp onto happiness, it would feel just like my husband's warm body felt wrapped within my content arms.

Then I had a horrible and morbid thought.

My evenings with my husband are numbered and limited. This is something that I cannot fully fathom but, nonetheless, keeps gnawing at the back of my thoughts. Right now, there is a tally of the remaining days and nights that I have with him and, worst of all, I don't know what that tally is. There will be a day when I no longer have these evenings. It's such a sad thought but it makes me wrap my arms around him a little tighter and treasure these moments just a little bit more.

Big Baby

My tummy felt bulgier than normal this morning. Baby Palmer must be really fat today. I should tell him (her) to watch what he (she) eats.

And I thought I wouldn't have to have the nutrition talk with Baby Palmer for another 15 years or so.

Welcome Baby Nephew!

Yesterday at 2:48pm, my first nephew was born! My sister in law delivered her healthy 8 lbs 1 oz baby surrounded by a lot of friends and family (too many if you ask me). He still doesn't have a name, but mommy and daddy are working on that right now. I was at school during the delivery but my husband was there, waiting outside the birthing room and texting me the play by play details.

I was able to skip my last class and arrive in time to hold my nephew when he was just three hours old. It was amazing! His skin was so soft, his features were just beautiful and he was sleeping so peacefully. I have never been that close to such a new life before. It was amazing to think that just hours ago he was living all snuggled up inside my sister in law's body.

My sister in law still looked worn out and tired in her delivery gown. But it was amazing to think that the independent, headstrong and at times wild girl had just become a mom. I remember thinking, "wow, I'm an Aunt" but the title "Aunt" didn't have as much of an effect on me as watching this new baby experience his first day in the world and witnessing my sister in law take the title of "mom."

When I finally got my turn, I picked him up and rocked him and immediatelt felt like I was in heaven. I couldn't take my eyes off this curious and wonderful new person. I can't begin to describe how wonderful it felt to just be there and the baby wasn't even mine! For the first time in my life, I was not afraid of giving birth and, in fact, I began to look towards my own baby's due date with extreme impatience and excitement. I never wanted to leave that room. Hours after my husband was finally able to drag me away, all I could think about was that new, little bundled up person with the tiny feet and soft chubby cheecks. Still, I'm completely distracted. All I can think about is August 29th, my own due date and how it cannot possibly come here soon enough.

Although I didn't get to watch the delivery- and I don't think I would have even if I was there- I learned a lot from my sister in law's experience. I learned that I do not want to make my baby's birth such a public affair, allowing anyone and everyone into the delivery room. I do not want to be surrounded by people watching in awe- as if I was on display in a fish tank- when my baby is placed in my arms for the first time or as I struggle to breast feed for the first time. I guess this was the case with my sister in law- she even allowed a not so close friend of her boyfriend stand at the forefront of the action and film the entire thing (ew! not for me!).

Instead, if I have it my way, the birth of Baby Palmer will be an intimate and private experience. I'm pretty quiet and modest and I would be very uncomfortable feeling as if my body was "on display." I want to share the special event with my husband and I want our new family to get to know each other and share just a little bit of bonding time before I bring in an audience. Hmm, I don't know for sure, but I think I'd also want to take a nap and a shower first (then enjoy the world's biggest margarita).

Ask And Ye Shall Regret: Angry Preggo On The Loose

I'm seriously considering buying one of those t-shirts that say, "Yes, I am pregnant. It's a boy/girl. He/she is due Aug 29th. No you cannot touch my belly."

At first I found it exciting to talk about my pregnancy with others. But as questions from family, friends and acquaintenances keep coming with greater intensity and frequency I find myself yearning for one of those boxing nun puppets to sock people in the eyeballs with.

In the future, if I ever DO spring for a maternity shirts, I will have to add a couple more lines to it: No, I haven't felt the baby kick yet. Yes we picked out a name. I only crave hamburgers. I hope you get hit with Harry Potter's slug vomiting spell.

And seriously, if one more person asks me if I'm excited to "show" I think I'll explode. This weekend My mom asked me why I wasn't showing off my baby belly. "It's so natural. It's one of God's miracles and it's so beautiful." she explained. My simple answer to her was: "Pooping is natural. But I don't shout, 'it's so beautiful' and jump up and down each time I poop..." Wait a second, I do get excited each time I poop...that's what happens when you're plagued with constipation. Needless to say my mom was not thrilled by the fact that I'm more excited about poop than having a "baby belly."

Anyway, If I start buying maternity t-shirts, I'll have to find one that says, "I'm with stupid" with an arrow pointing towards my tummy. Do you think people will be offended? I mentioned this idea to my husband, who thought it was the best thing since Wii bowling. He rationally pointed out the truth of the statement. "Babies ARE stupid. They can't read or write. They can't even talk!"

Clearly, if it's true, it can be justified.

Don't Feed The Bears

Seattle is a yuppy, sophisticated city. In contrast, the county in which I live, which happens to be an hour ferry ride from Seattle, is half Seattle yuppy and half wilderness loving cowboys.

Everytime I drive farther and farther from my home in the city and deeper into the conservative country, I realize just how "special" this county is.

The other day as I was driving down the highway, I saw a sign posted on a woodsy vacant lot. I had to laugh out loud. In my county, I guess it is necessary for people to post "No Hunting" signs on their empty lots...the people who might violate such a demand are probably the same people who tried to get Nascar to build a track in our backyard.

Broken Weekend, Wasted Heart

This evening I feel incredibly hurt. Something my husband did yesterday really hurt me. I decided I wasn't going to sit around and let him ignore me so I took off without a word- not like he noticed though, as I said, he was ignoring me. I left an angry "F*** You" note on the counter, packed an overnight bag and headed to my parents.

The much wanted and needed missed call or text from my husband never came. I began to feel like he didn't even care that he hurt me, or worse, that he didn't even know how much he hurt me.

I came back home the next morning to get dressed for Easter mass and my grandma's Easter party. My husband continued to ignore me. He stayed in bed all morning reading a book. I guess that was his signal to me that I was going alone. I suffered through the mass and the party, trying to avert questions about where my husband was. Still no call or even a text message.

I didn't come home until 8 oclock tonight. I walked in the door, past my husband, and straight to our dark cold bedroom where I cried for an hour. All I wanted was a sorry or an acknowledgement, he didn't even try to come in. This made the tears more forceful and my cries louder. With each minute of tears, I felt my weekend slowly slipping away- but I wasn't about to give in and let him keep pretending that nothings wrong. I began to think of the times I cried when I was little. Things were so easy then. Mom or Dad would run into my room and brush my worries away with a soft caressing hand. They could hold me in their arms and tell me everything was ok. I would believe them and I would feel safe. Even when I made them mad, they would let me cry it out and then come in to console me. The forgiveness of a parent's heart has no limits.

When you're a grown up, there is nobody to console you when you cry. No one rushes in to hold you and tell you things will be ok. When you're a grown up, your problems are so much bigger. They no longer disappear after a quick but dramatic fifteen minutes of crying. I find myself living in a cold, hollow adult world. People carry grudges and hold back apologies. The source of my sadness turns up the stereo volume to block out my cries rather than rushing in to pat me on the back.

All I wanted was an acknlowledgment of the pain he caused. All I get is a wasted weekend that can never be recovered and a heart that wont stop aching.

Small Fish In A Big Firm

I just came back from a job interview and my heart is still pounding with the thrill of it all. Just an overview of my experience: the interview took 3 hours and it involved me being grilled by six different people- the managing partner, another partner, two associates, a paralegal and the managing partner's secretary. The longest interview in human history (ok maybe not quite, but it felt like it).

I decided recently that I'm interested in construction law. Mostly because its so complex with multiple parties and it ties a lot of areas of the law together: contracts, property, personal injury, employment. I also like construction law because building stuff is cool: big digging machines, huge tall cranes, and manly burly construction men.

This new firm is pretty intimidating. I currently work for a small firm- I mean itty bitty small- there are just two attorneys! The firm I interviewed for today has 14 attorneys on staff and that is still considered small in Seattle. The new firm is full of new people who clerked for important courts and attorneys who try appellate cases. It handles cases with big bucks $$$$$$ at stake. I've gotten pretty comfortable in my current position. I've gotten comfortable in my role and duties, who I report to. If I get this new job I'll have to start all over.

Don't get me wrong, I would love to work for this firm in a highly complex and specialized area of the law but as exciting and thrilling as new jobs are, they are also very intimidated and uncomfortable. Will I do well? Can I handle the intensity of these cases? Will they still want me around when I'm 8 months pregnant and look like a human sized ballon?

The best part of the interview had to be when I met the first associate. He was the least laid back (The managing partner had his jean covered legs on his desk showing off his cowboys boots during my interview and the other partner continued to CHEW TOBACCO while interviewing me. I hope I didn't look too horrified the first time he pulled out an empty bottle to spit in.). The associate was grilling me pretty hard. At one point he mentioned that his previous spouse taught at my school.

I asked, "what did she teach?"
He curtly replied, "HE taught constitutional law."
I blushed a deep shade of red, I'm sure. Then I quietly let out an, "I'm sorry." We exchanged glances and I followed up with, "I mean, not 'I'm sorry', I'm sorry. Just....cough. Excuse me." I shut up and looked at the ground before I did anymore damage.

Do you think that could have a negative effect on my interview?

Into The Wild

We watched a good film last night- "Into the Wild." It's about a college grad who rejects society for all its guidelines, regulations, expectations and separation from nature. He sets off on his own on a wild nature adventure across the country without telling a single person he knows. He invents a new name for himself, burns his social security card, identification, credit cards and (gulp) money, determined to make it on his own, reconnect with nature, and live off the land.

He starts off on his adventure, leaving his family and friends behind. He meets new people along the way who come to love and care for him, but he leaves them behind as well to carry out his mission of living alone with nature in the deserted Alaska wilderness. He finally gets to Alaska, has a great time, faces all the challenges of surviving alone, and for a while, he discovers true happiness. At the end of the movie, however, he realizes that he has made a huge mistake. Happiness, he concludes, is only real when it is shared. He realizes that he has deprived himself of the happiness of sharing his love with others and he has deprived those he left behind of the happiness of loving him.

The most striking part of the film for me was when he draws his last final breath. On his way out of the world, he comes to the realization that if he were only to smile and run into the arms of his worrying and sad parents, he would be giving them everything they ever wanted or needed.

The film shows us how dependent we are on silly little things like plastice ID cards and paper money. It shows us how much of our lives is purely the construct of society. But this film also shows us how rejecting society may not be the answer. Above all, it shows us that relationships with others are necessary and, perhaps, part of our very role in nature and the key to our own happiness.

The film is a true testament to the power we as individuals have on those we encounter. Simple things we do, such as spending time with those that love us and letting new people in can have a tremendous positive affect on those around us. Just giving a little of ourselves can mean the world to others. Maybe happiness comes from within and maybe only we can enpower ourselves to be internally happy in spite of our circumstances, but I truly believe this film's message that happiness isn't real unless it is shared.

Is Driving Naked A Crime?

After class last night as I got into my car, I had a sexy idea. In the dark of the empty parking lot, I removed my bra and my shirt and put my jacket on. On the top, I was wearing nothing but my jacket, which ties in the front. I couldn't wait to arrive home and surprise my husband. I know this sounds crazy, and I'm embarrassed to admit that I actually did this. Pregnancy makes you do weird things- like buy the jumbo sized bag of Sour Patch Kids at the grocery store and run over old ladies in motorized wheelchairs to be first in line for a hamburger at the Food Court.

I started the hour drive home but I kept thinking about what I was going to do to my husband when I got home (increased sex drive maybe?). Needless to say, I got a little distracted. I quickly snapped back to reality, however, when I saw flashing lights in my rear view mirror.

I groaned silently and mumbled some words of pity for the hapless victim of those sirens. But then something seemed odd. Those flashing lights were following me! I looked down at my spedometer and realized I was going 70 in a 55 zone. Crap!

I pulled to the side of the road and waited for the cop to approach. I was nervous and very depressed about the idea of paying a speeding ticket- my driving record until tonight was spotless. As he approached, I rolled down my window. He asked for my ID. When I went to dig it out of my purse on the passenger side of the vehicle, that is when I remembered I was practically naked under my overcoat. There in plain view of the officer, was my black size C bra- hanging out on the passenger seat. Right next to my shirt.

Hmmm, at least I could try to flash him to get out of a ticket....Realizing my nakedness made me ten times more nervous than I was before. What if he noticed- is driving naked illegal? What if, in handing him my ID, one of my boobs fell out? How could I explain a ticket for indecent exposure to my husband? Well, it turned out ok in the end. I got off with a warning. I didn't even have to make up an excuse for speeding, the cop practically made them up for me. I could totally get used to this whole cleavage thing.

Next time I decide to drive naked, I will be much more cautious.

Cleaning Out the Bitches

It's spring right? So I did a little spring cleaning today. It wasn't my kitchen or my bathroom or my junk piles that got the scrubbing. Not even of my wardrobe was the target. Today, I cleaned all the bitches out of my life. Yep, and I feel like I just took the most heavenly bubble bath. In fact, I wish I had more bitches to throw out.

The story about this particular Bitch is a long one. We started out friends and roomates in college. Then something got between us (which I never fully understood) and we had a horrific, terrible falling out. One thing I learned about this person is that if you EVER get on her bad side, you would be shunned and treated with disdain by her for life. So, somehow, I ended up there and she never let me forget it.

I don't want to go into the messy details but she finally came out and told me she was bi-sexual. Apparently, I wasn't "sensitive" or "respectful" enough towards what might have been her feelings towards me even though I had no reason to suspect we were anything but friends in her eyes. How the hell was I supposed to know how she felt when she was determined to keep it a secret?

We haven't been the same since. Since I moved away, I had hoped we could salvage our friendship. She made this impossible. i promised to send her a photo I took of her once I moved. Well in my move across the country, it got misplaced. She resented me for a year because of this. (um, grow up?). I offered many olive branches towards her- I guess part of me missed what we had and part of me just couldn't stand the thought of someone not liking me. I eventually went on with my life, thinking of her less and less. When I got married, she reacted by exclaiming how much my marriage would affect her- how much she would have to deal with it. When she found out I was pregnant she unloaded to me about how much me having a baby will push her further out of my life and how she would now have to deal with this new issue. Everything I did seemed to boil down to her. These happy things in my life were becoming a source of guilt as she continued to make me the target of her problems.

Well today, I finally stood up for myself. I decided that I could not afford to let people like her become bruises in my life. I could no longer give her the power to tormet me. I have to thank my pregnancy hormones for giving me the courage to stand up for myself and telling her what I should have told her years ago- to go away.

You know what she said? She told me that if I ever found another friend like her, that I didn't deserve it. First of all, after our major fall out she never was a "real" friend again. Even before then, I realize now how our friendship was based on convenience and utility. She was never that great of a friend. Not the kind of person you can count on to help you out when you really needed it, only when it was convenient or comfortable for her. Besides, I found my husband and he replaced her friendship long ago.

Then she told me that it was a pity that death would destroy all I hold dear. Talk about being morbid and dramatic. She was clearly trying to get to me (she knows I fear the unknown about the afterlife and my mortality). I get it, she's totally jealous. She's conflicted on the inside and torn between her two sexual identities. She is jealous of the happiness I found in a long term relationship.

I'm glad I cleaned this Bitch out of my life. Life is too short and too precious to allow people in who make us miserable. I will miss what we once had, even if it was a convenience relationship, because we did have a lot of fun. But I don't need her or miss her anymore. I don't need to always be the "kind" one or the "giving" one. I don't need to be liked by everyone on the planet.

As I drove home from class tonight, I felt a totally new sense of peace. I sang along to Jack Johnson (with the bass turned up) and a smile spread across my face that lasted for 90 miles. Why? After all the insult and injury. Because I finally stood up for myself. I broke through my weakness. I threw out something that I had been clinging to and had caused me nothing but grief these past couple years. I finally realized that I really didn't need her or her approval. I felt new, fresh, clean, independent, and a million times more confident.

The Boobs That Ate Seattle

Let the celebration begin! Release the baloons into the air, sound the horns, and cut the cake!

I have officially graduated from a bra size B cup to a C cup. (Can I take a moment to remind you all that I am a former AA?) After all the shitty morning sickness and pooplessness, I totally deserve this.

When do I get my diploma from the boob ferry? Is it appropriate to submit an announcement in my local newspaper? It will be so nice to walk through the automatic doors of my grocery store and know that it was my boobs that set the motion sensor off.

Pausing Reality for Fiction

Uh, hello people in my life, I have some sad news. I just dont have time for you. At least at the moment. Things have unexpectantly gotten really busy around here and I'm the kind of person who knows just when to start saying "no" (ha ha, who am I kidding?).

Don't worry about me, I know I will get through it all and that this whole being busy thing is just temporary. But until I finish watching the first three seasons of Desperate Housewives from first episode to the last, I can't fit one more thing into my life.

Sorry professor who wants me to come up with a final paper topic about international law and game theory. Sorry money sucking employer who wants me to write a handful of legal memos before the week is over. Sorry really good public organization that I'm supposed to draft a funding bill for. Sorry husband who would appreciate more than chicken strips or frozen pizza for dinner. Sorry mountain of laundry in my room waiting to be folded. And finally, sorry to myself for not getting more than four hours of sleep a night.

BUT SERIOUSLY, you gotta understand. I mean, how else am I supposed to get all these episodes in. Mike just woke up from a coma, Susan is doing the British guy. Susan's daughter is getting fresh with a cheater. Lynette is about ready to kill her husband for opening a pizza place and then throwing out his back because now she has to take over (to top it all off, the uniforms are orange! nasty!). People are committing attempted murder. This is serious stuff here. Until it's all done, my own life has to be put on hold. Thanks for understanding.

Dear Obama

Thank you for infusing the young generation of voters (that would be me!) with passion for the electoral process. Thank you for giving me something to vote for this election year besides more death and more taxes. I know what you do must be tough (I mean they don't let just anyone be President- you typically have to be old, white and rich) and I admire your every step. Don't feel bad about those ridiculous accusations against you. If it is any consolation at all, I will always know (even if no one else does) that you didn't plagerize your speeches. You are a great orator and your occusors are just being ridiculous because they are jealous of your campaign for change, your confidence, and your good looks.

I'm so happy that you are here. Without you, I would be packing up my collection of Desperate Housewives episodes, learning hockey & french and moving to Canada at this very minute. I am ready to put this country in your hands. I just know you will win, I knew it from the beginning. I have even pledged on multiple occassions that if you win, I will proudly tatoo your face on my arm...or was it my left butt cheek?

Remember when you were asked during the democratice debate if Bill Clinton was the nation's first black President and you said you'd have to investigate his dancing abilities first...that was pure AWESOMENESS. I just thought I should tell you that. Oh and I should also tell you that I fall asleep every night wearing my Obama '08 fleece jacket (despite the heat of my electric blanket) because it makes me feel that much closer to your incredibly good looking body the important issues that you stand for.

Do you think if you became president, it might be possible to do one itty bitty thing for me? Could you make law school two years instead of three? And since you're all about civil rights, maybe you would be willing to ban the socratic method as cruel and unusual? Or maybe you could just force all law schools to give students free food-- and put a cap on tuition rates? Or at least make all law students pass an "annoyance test" which will weed out "those guys" from future law school classrooms.

Oh, one more thing? If nothing else, do you think you could make it to my birthday party? I know you're a busy man so I thought I would give you a couple months notice. Did I mention that I'm going to name my child Barack Obama Palmer?

I love you times 100,



Cee
Your Friendly, Passionate, Newly Big-Bossomed, Obsessive Stalker

The Name Game

My husband and I have a hard time agreeing on all sorts of things: movies, cars, whether or not his jokes are funny (you can guess my position), and baby names.

I know that you aren't supposed to tell people your baby names because they will usually give you a million reasons why the name so dear heart will encourage bullies to fling huge boogers at your kid during recess and result in thousands of dollars worth of therapy. In my case, it doesn't matter because there are only three names in the world encyclopedia of names that my husband and I agree on. We're stuck with these choices, no matter what anyone else thinks.

I have a crazy feeling that we're having a boy. We won't know for sure for another five weeks or so, but for some odd reasons I'm pretty sure we will be buying a lot of blue. Also, Intelligender- which I know is not as acurate as claimed on the box, predicts boy. So, if we are having a boy, his name will likely be one of the following (unless I can talk my husband into the name Henry):

Nicholas "Cole" David Palmer: Actually I prefer just Cole David, but we decided we should give him a more common official name so he has options in case he hates the name Cole. Or in case that booger flinging bully decides to call him "lump of coal" or something horrific.

Benjamin David Palmer: David is my husband's middle name and the name of my father in law, so we're pretty set on that. There is no way we're using my dad's name. Roger just seems like an old person's nam...shudder. I have always thought Benjamin was a cute name and, luckily, it's one of the few my husband also likes.

Girls names are the hardest for me. I like very few of them to begin with, including ALL the names my husband likes. For a while, we had no girls names picked out. We've slowly come across these names which are starting to grow on us:

Jane Elizabeth Palmer: Yep, plain Jane. I love it, it's classic and timeless. We didn't actually get to the topic of middle names so I'm taking some liberties here. For middle names, I also like Emily, Evelyn or Emma.

Ava Elizabeth Palmer: That is my absolute favorite (pronounced Ay-vah). I may still have to win my husband over but, I will have my way in the end, I just know it (after hours of sleepless, foodless, painful labor, how can he refuse?).

Wanderings

Today I felt like I needed some exercise but I didn't feel like changing into work out clothes, hopping on a treadmil, and getting sweaty. Instead, I opted for a nice long walk. When I babysat in the area I used to walk all over the place, strolling a screaming, kicking devil's spawn in the rain at the request of her devil mom.

Capitol Hill in Seattle is such an awesome place to walk if you know where all the parks are, oh and the streets lined with 100 year old mansions. The houses in the area are simply incredible. Even the small humble ones have amazing architecture and design to them. Victorian, Colonial, Tudor, Castle-eque and even Haunted. Most of the houses could use a good remodel, or at least a new paint job, but you just look at them and know they have stories to tell. I like to let my mind wander and imagine all the things those houses might have seen.

I walked a total of five miles today starting and ending on my campus. I passed moms and nannies strolling babies, I passed men walking their kids dogs, I passed school children playing on their playgrounds. I walked by Holy Names High School just in time to watch their cross country/track team whizz by. Watching them reminded me how much I missed it all.

Of course I can and do run now, but not the way I could before I got pregnant and definately not the way I did in college. I miss lacing up my running shoes, tossing my fears, worries, to do lists to the side along with a dozen or so other girls and just...running. When you run on a team you don't run for a destination, you run purely for the sake of running. As long as you run the required speed and required distance, you are free to roam anywhere. As your body meanders across pavement, grass, gravel and dirt carryig out the motions without any other purpose or design, your mind roams just as freely. As unstructured and free as running in, when you run in a pack, you always know your place. Everyone has a "place." You may be the caboose, the front runner or somewhere in between but you always know where you fit in. This is so comforting, to have one activity in life where you know just where you belong in relation to the world.

Even when you run in a tightly knit team, it is still just your mind and your body, battling it out across the distance. Nothing else matters. I like to think of running as a conversation between the mind and the body. The body constantly pushes the limits of the mind and the mind pushes the confort of the body. It's amazingly therapeutic. The rest of the world just falls away, leaving you to perform in a peaceful existence. Even in the midst of traffic, noise, obstacles and weather. Running is a meditation you can do in any environment with the proper practice and training.

Upon return, your body and your mind are exhausted...in a peaceful way. You have traveled to the edge of your capability, pushing your physical and mental limit the entire time and you have returned, survived. You can revel in the accomplishment that it will all be a little easier next time. Nothing in the world feels better. Except perhaps the necessarily enourmous meal that follows.

Hi. I'm Pregnant, And Your Name Is...?

I wasn't afraid to tell my employer that I was pregnant. I had the feeling he would take the news well. I was right. He told me that the firm would be happy to accomodate any of my new needs- if I was sick, I could work from home. It was a better reaction than I thought. However, there is one thing that makes me regret telling my boss so early.

Whenever he introduces me to someone for the first time, he does it like this, "This is Cee, she is our legal intern. She's pregnant." Great...this makes for REALLY REALLY awkward introductions with semi-important people such as judges, community leaders and fellow attorneys (aka: potential future employers). Usually, the person on the otherside of the introduction has no idea how to respond, I wouldn't either, and a full minute of silence ensues.

Our firm is interviewing people for an associate position. My boss has his heart set on one applicant in particular. He took our fim out for lunch with this applicant today and he drove us all in his own car. We all hop in, applicant in the front seat and me squished in the back middle seat. The first thing he says as we pull onto the street: "Cee, how is your morning sickness." Um, ok...awkward. Not something I really want to discuss with a stranger. This lady doesn't even know my name but she knows I'm pregnant and she probably assumes I'm going to puke all over her at lunch. THANKS. A LOT.

The worst part about other people announcing my pregnancy, is that everyone automatically responds by looking at my belly. I'm not showing yet, I'm only 14 weeks along. LEAVE MY INNOCENT BELLY OUT OF THIS PEOPLE!

I should just wear a shirt that says, "Ask me about my morning sickness" or "Hi, I'm pregnant."

The Post In Which I Attempt To Justify An Embarrassing New Obsession

Friday night I was husband free. I was also plan free. I was in quite a dilemma. I couldn't for the life of me remember what normal people do on Friday nights. Weekend nights to myself are extremely rare and I didn't want to waste this one. So, I did what was rational and spent about two hours worrying about how to not waste my Friday night alone.

I did what any other red-blooded American would have done, I headed to Blockbuster to rent a bazillion movies.

I walked into Blockbuster, stared at the rows and rows of colorful, perfectly aligned movie shelves. I was in heaven. It's not that I never go to a movie rental store, it's just that I never go to a movie rental store without my husband. Every single chick flick in the history of Hollywood was at my fingertips. I didn't have to worry about my husband not liking what I picked out and forever labeling me as "the bad movie picker" - which I dread as much as contracting some uncurable transmitted disease.

Essentially, I could rent ANY movie I wanted- cheesy romantic comedy, raunchy drama, a completely action-less eye candy film, or one of each- and the only person to judge me was the Blockbuster employee at the check out counter. I perused down all the aisles and a million titles jumped out at me that I had never even noticed during my previous trips with my husband. So many films looked good. Embarrassing as it is, I was in the mood for something with a steamy sex scene...

I got to the end of the "new releases" alphabet with about five movies in my hand, all promising to deliver some hints of romantic or at least steamy sex. That's when I came across the television series section. Nothing looked too great, Dexter (the physco killer? Way too bloody and scary), 24 (heard it was good but not really in the mood), Desperate Housewives (...?...). I had never seen Desperate Housewives but I have always thought poorly of the show for some reason. I thought it was a brainless, soap opera-like drama where the problems of the snobby rich people were on display in order for us "normal" people to feel better about our own lives. I was just about to skip on to the comedy section but then I felt remarkably compelled to see what all the fuss was about.

Feeling totally embarassed, I grabbed disk one of season three (the earliest one they had). The lady at the check out counter took her sweet time entering my movies into her computer, meanwhile I kept scanning the room, soaked in the paranoia that someone would see me walk out the door with Desperate Housewives. Then, in a voice much louder than I would have liked, the check out lady said, "Just to make sure, you know this is Season Three Disk One of Desperate Housewives?" I nodded and turned a deep red. She had just announced my selection to the entire store, great. I felt like I was buying a sex toy or something.

I was still really skeptical when I popped Desperate Housewives into my dvd player at home- but I had back ups films in case it was, in fact, really lame. To my surprise, I thoroughly enjoyed the first episode. It was interesting, entertaining, and not entirely mindless. Ok some of the characters are a little tacky and almost unbelievable, but that made it more fun. I got sucked into the plot and become engrossed with the main characters, one in particular- Lynette. The actress who plays her has won an Emmy for her performance. In the show Lynette is an overachieving, working mother of four children. She is "mom next door" pretty, has a husband who is sometimes like a fifth child, and although she is kind, she doesn't take crap from anyone and will stand up for what she believes is right. I want to be her in 15 years.

I felt a little stupid getting caught up in the story line of Teri Hatcher's character. Major soap opera cliche: she's madly in love with her boyfriend who is in a coma. She starts to fall in love with a guy whose wife is also in a coma. But the whole thing was just comical and I think the wrtiers throw that stuff in there in an effort to mock the soap opera genre.

I think what I admire most about the show, other than the colorful characters, is how the show deals with serious issues that are important to all of us but in a way that is both meaningful and comical. The characters face (on an extreme level, of course) betrayal, seduction, sabotage, death, adolescence, family loyalty, illness and friendship. While sometimes the plot comes straight out of a soap opera, at other times it is sincere, witty and downright hilarious.

I've seen ten episodes in the past three evenings and I'm still craving more. If the show's entertainment came in a morphine drip form, I would be hooked up to an IV in a hearbeat (that's saying a lot considering how easily I faint). Clearly, I'm addicted.

Practicing Law AND Giving Back

I'm finishing up the second part of a year long class this year, it's atually a clinic. Our class is a mix of law AND business students and we team up and get assigned a REAL client. I know I'm partial, but I think my business student partner and I have the best client- a single mom of three who runs an international beer and wine retail store!

The nature of the clinic is that we all help enterpreneurs who are below a certain income level to live out their dreams, start up and run their business successfully and hopefully provide them with greater income in the near future. This is such an awesome clinc. I only get 4 credits for this year long class even though clinic work usually eats up ten hours a week outside of our three hour long class (during which my "morning" sickness always strikes in full force). For this reason, I have a love-hate relationship with the clinic, but I really am learning so much and I really enjoy advising my client.

By the end of the clinic, I will have so much more legal experience, I can't believe how much I have learned already about the practice of law and the law itself. One thing I learned: in my state, if you get hit by a drunk driver who just bought beer, you can sue the store for damages. Hopefully I'll help our client limit her liability. Through this clinic I took up another amazing opportunity- I volunteered to help one of the past clinic clients write a funding bill for their organization. This is a bill that one of our state senators will be sponsoring!

The best part of this clinic and related oportunities is that in addition to building my resume, I will be getting all kinds of hands on experience in practicing law AND I'll be helping the community! This is why I got into law in the first place.

I have to admit that this semester I have been feeling depressed about the lack of opportunities and the legal job outlook in my area. It seems that if you aren't in the top 15% of your class, you're left with nothing. The law schools in my city are pumping out more graduates than there are legal jobs. So firms can be picky and us "average" students get stuck with whatever is left over.

This clinic is boosting my self esteem and hopefully my chances of getting a job when I graduate.