they should warn you when it's an interactive voice response system

Computer phone voice: Thank you for calling American Airlines. In order to process your call effectively...

Me: Buuuuuuuurrrrrrrppppppp.

Computer phone voice: I'm sorry, I did not understand. For flight times and gate information, please say "Flight Information." For reservations, please say "Reservations"...

oh goodie! a quiz!

Just when I needed some new material for posting...I've been tagged by Pastor Mom!

1. Who eats more? We both tend to be a little piggish.
2. Who said “I love you” first? I did, but he coerced me...
3. Who is the morning person? Definitely me, even though I never realized it until I started living with J.
4. Who sings better? J. He comes from a very talented family.
5. Who’s older? J is almost 8 months older than me.
6. Who’s smarter? I have a lot more formal education, he's got the street smarts.
7. Whose temper is worse? J's the one with the hot streak. I tend to keep my cool.
8. Who does the laundry? We share this one, though I'm the only one who actually folds things and puts them away.
9. Who does the dishes? When I cook, J cleans up, but I'd say I do the majority of the dish-related tasks.
10. Who sleeps on the right side of the bed? He does.
11. Whose feet are bigger? His are, but not by a lot. His stink more though.
12. Whose hair is longer? Mine.
13. Who’s better with the computer? Me.
14. Do you have pets? We have a dog, 2 cats, and 3 guinea pigs.
15. Who pays the bills? I pay all the household bills, he pays his own car payment and credit cards (by this I mean I physically write the checks and put them in the mail, not that I actually pay for everything myself!)
16. Who cooks dinner? For the most part me. We eat/order out once or twice a week.
17. Who drives when you are together? He drives while I complain about his driving.
18. Who pays when you go out to dinner? Whoever gets to their wallet first.
19. Who’s the most stubborn? Ha! Definitely not me, except when I know I'm right. Which is often.
20. Who is the first one to admit when they’re wrong? Neither of us is especially fond of doing so, but we get around to it eventually.
21. Whose family do you see more? His-they all live an hour away, and mine live 1000 miles away.
22. Who named your pet? The dog was his and the cats were mine when we met...but we shared in the naming of the guinea pigs.
23. Who kissed who first? We kissed each other. Then I fell asleep on him.
24. Who asked who out? We met online, so I'm not sure this applies.
25. What did you do on your first date? On our first "real" date we went to dinner, and then back to my place, where we donned funny wigs and danced to the Saturday Night Fever soundtrack.
26. Who’s more sensitive? Normally him, though at the moment I'm catching up.
27. Who’s taller? He is.
28. Who has more friends? Not sure. He definitely has more friends locally. Mine are scattered all over the country.
29. Who has more siblings? He has 2, I have 1.
30. Who wears the pants in the relationship? I think we share the pants pretty well.

OK, your turn. I'm tagging Chrysanthemum, Lever, and Fishlamp.

I guess I'm hormonal after all

So far this pregnancy--with the exception of some back pain, oh and also the dealing with the Gigantic Ass of Ridiculous Proportions--has been exceptionally easy. No weird food cravings or aversions, no hanging my head over the toilet, few crazy-lady outbursts.

Today I had a crazy day at work, and had to leave an hour early to make it to my hair appointment. I love my stylist so I keep going to her even though she's now 45 minutes away, and I have never once had to cancel an appointment. Anyway, like I said it was a crazy work day that ended with several back-to-back phone conferences, the last of which I needed to skip out early on to make it out the door on time. So I hung up the phone, threw on a little makeup (nothing worse than not having any makeup on under those salon lights...just kind of diminishes the nice feeling of having your hair done up), shoved the dog outside for a last bathroom break, grabbed my cell phone and headed out the door.

Just as I pulled our front door closed, it hit me. No...no...please NO! I scrambled through my purse and sure enough, NO KEYS. No house keys, no car keys. I quickly texted J (who was supposed to do something after work that would keep him away for several hours) asking him to please come home asap. Then I texted him 2 or 3 more times for good measure. When about 15 minutes passed with no reply, I lost it. The waterworks commenced, complete with audible sobbing noises. I let myself think of every possible reason J wasn't responding to my messages...his phone was dead, or equally likely, he was holed up in a hotel with a coworker. Everything but the obvious--that he was tied up at work and unable to get to his phone.

I am not normally one to break down so easily, but there you have it, proof of pregnancy-induced lunacy.

I am so consumed with being pregnant that I can't think of anything else to talk about. I was trying to spare you all but then I figured what the hell, you wouldn't keep coming back here if I was *that* boring, right?

I mean, excuse me, but it is just slightly mind-boggling to have an entire human being growing inside your body, especially when it gets to the point where you can feel it moving around in there, and then, even stranger when you can see your belly moving on the outside like in Alien. So I really can't help but be fixated on this strange little miracle of nature. I'll just add that it's a *really* strange sensation to be kicked in the vagina (well, the cervix, if you want to get technical) from the inside. That's all I'm sayin'...

We had another ultrasound this week, and everything is looking good. J and I laughed when the tech drew a circle on the screen saying "now I'm just measuring the circumference of the baby's head." J and I both have a significant amount of pollock blood in us, and we have a really bizarre inside joke that could never be fully explained to anyone else but it involves calling J "Giant Pollock Head". I mentioned we're both Polish, right, so we're allowed to "take back" the word pollock and use it to our hearts' content--no offense allowed. So anyway, we are of course wondering if we are going to have a Giant Pollock Baby with a Giant Pollock Head Jr. It probably doesn't help that we are also both German and I am Italian...nice, big, strong, stock if you see what I'm getting at. Good thing I've been endowed with these big birthin' hips.

730 days

Two years later...

Though every day might not be a magical carriage ride


And my waistline has changed quite drastically


I still love to hold your hand


Share life's sweet moments together


Steal a kiss when no one (or everyone) is looking


And I'm so glad I get to walk through this life with you.


Happy Anniversary.

important mealtime considerations

Sunday dinner - Stuffed cabbage

Monday dinner - Leftover stuffed cabbage

Tuesday dinner - Vegetarian sloppy joes

Tuesday bedtime - Desperately wishing we had a set of these to save ourselves from ourselves:

Wednesday lunch - Briefly consider having leftover stuffed cabbage or vegetarian sloppy joe, remember that it's yoga night, and have a baked potato instead.

random Monday ramblings

This week I really started to feel the baby move on more of a regular basis. It's a pretty strange sensation that's been described as "like popcorn popping", "like a goldfish inside you that's too small for its bowl" and "like a bird flapping its wings". In my experience it really feels pretty close to how it feels when you have a bunch of gas bubbles gurgling around. The difference is that the gas eventually makes its way to places where you know the baby's not going...

----

Common courtesy is really slipping these days. Last weekend we attended the wedding of some people I would barely register as acquaintances. J went to high school with the groom, but the few times we have socialized with the groom +/- bride have been through occasions arranged by a mutual friend (one of J's best friends is pretty close to the groom). To top it off, no one liked the bride. When your own bridesmaids are talking about what an evil person you are at your own wedding, well, enough said. Anyway, J and I had a slight argument over how much to give for the wedding gift (east coast tradition is to generally give cash). I argued for a lesser amount (one that would certainly cover the costs of our attendance, plus a decent amount), considering that we barely know the couple. J argued for a higher amount, and I eventually conceded on the grounds that perhaps I could stand to be a tad more generous. We gave them a Home Depot gift card, since they recently bought a home together.

We were not expecting a lavish reception, and our expectations were not in the least surpassed. In J's words "I've been to receptions that used paper cups and plates, but I've never been to one that didn't at least have champagne for the toast". Also, why on earth would you set out corkscrews at the tables and then never bring any bottles to the tables? That's just a cruel tease. (Of course I, in my present condition, was the designated driver so no matter to me).

To get to my point (yes, finally, I know!)...we received a thank-you note from the couple within 2 days of the wedding. It was a photo card with a pre-printed message inside, and THEY DID NOT EVEN SIGN IT. So this means that they probably hadn't even opened the gifts before they put the cards in the mail. To be fair, our wedding thank you notes were similar...they did have a pre-printed message, but I wrote something personal in each and every one of those cards, because we really appreciated everyone's presence and generosity and I wanted everyone to know it. Is it too much to ask to just sign your own names on a card when people--especially people you BARELY KNOW--have taken the time to go to your wedding and give you a pretty generous gift? My mom taught me to write thank you notes and you can bet your ass that my kids will be taught to write them too. Sheesh.

----

Last night I dreamed that we went for an ultrasound, and the doctors told us that, according to their findings, the baby had a 20% chance of having either Down syndrome or psoriasis. It's so interesting how things get mish-moshed around in your dreams.

I love New York

This morning the Duggar family (yes, the family from Arkansas with SEVENTEEN home-schooled children) was on the Today show. They talked about their plans for visiting various parts of New York City. One of the children expressed an interest in visiting Times Square. My first thought? I hope they see the naked cowboy.

I bet they'd like his music.

baby pictures

Yesterday we got to check out our little peanut in utero. The tech says he/she is very photogenic. What do you think? (Click on the image for a much larger view)



And just in case you were wondering, we kept our resolve and did not ask to find out the gender...

intuition

J and I have decided to test our patience and wait until the baby is born to find out if we are having a boy or a girl. We both agree that life has too few true surprises anymore, and this is one that we'd like to enjoy.

A lot of moms seem to possess some kind of intuitive sense as to what gender baby they are carrying. Unfortunately, I really haven't had any overwhelming feelings one way or another.

Right after I found out I was pregnant, I thought "boy". But then I kind of chalked that up to my tendency to envision things in a way that--I don't want to say I hope they won't turn out--but let's just say they just make the cutest baby clothes for girls and also I am slightly terrified of dealing with miniature male, ahem, parts, and so yeah, I'll just say it, I just was kind of hoping that my first would be a girl. Familiar territory, as my baby sister was born when I was 12 and I never had any brothers. So basically I sort of squelched that first thought that I was carrying a boy, and all it took was a dream involving a big bunch of pink balloons to convince myself that my mother's intuition was saying "yes, it's a girl."

The Chinese Gender Predictor says it will be a girl. I'm also told that having a sweet tooth during pregnancy says girl, but I always have a sweet tooth so what does that really mean? Then there's the old wives tale about the heartbeat--faster rates for girls, slower for boys. (You can imagine what I, a trained scientist, *actually* think about all these prediction methods). Incidentally, according to all these methods I'm having a girl.

Well, really I just have no idea what to think. So, I've decided to go with a more accurate predictor: J's Uncle Butch. Uncle Butch told me that he is 95% accurate in predicting baby genders. I mean, do I really need more evidence than his word on this? So I let him lay hands on the old belly and he has proclaimed that we're having a boy.

I am now mentally preparing for having to clean poop from strange folds and crevices, for getting peed on during diaper changes, and for many years of trying to keep the kid from imitating his father's fart jokes and temper tantrums. On the upside, a boy will probably be more fun to hunt for bugs under rocks with.

Anyone want to place a bet?

let the baby mania begin

We just ordered the baby bedding for the nursery. How cute is this?!?!


Don't worry, we didn't order *every* accessory they had. Just most of them. I had to order items from 4 different websites because apparently this set has been discontinued or something, but this is the kind of hardcore shopping I am prepared to do as a mom-to-be. I am just that dedicated.

maybe she was just trying to be her own blonde joke

If you know any girls who are aspiring to become pageant contestants, just show them this clip to talk them out of it.

currently...

watching coverage of Hurricane Dean on the Today show, and secretly hoping Al Roker gets knocked down by the wind again.

feeling older than the bands I saw this weekend

We spent last weekend at a 4-day music festival. Due to my present condition, I was the only sober person in the entire park (and believe me, there were 72 different types of non-sober going on in that place--it was, after all, a hippie fest). There were 2 specific instances in which I felt I might as well have been wearing "mom jeans".

1) I came out of the port-a-potty to find J talking to a cute girl who I soon realized was quite drunk (could it have been when she introduced herself to me twice in a 3-minute span? Hmmm, maybe.) I was starting to get annoyed that J wasn't trying to break off the conversation so we could go back to the show when the girl pulled out a vicodin and announced that it was just what she needed to make her buzz complete. Without thinking about it, I pointed a mom-like finger at her and said "now you be careful, you don't want to drink too much with that." That pretty much ended the conversation, to my embarrassment and relief.

2) We spent a very hot and sunny Saturday afternoon at a smaller beach-side stage watching some local bands. At one point, a girl wandered by, clutching a huge bottle of vodka and telling anyone who would listen that it was her 21st birthday. Not missing an opportunity, J shouted "it's her birthday too!" pointing at me. The girl came over to us and asked if it was my 21st too, to which I had to sadly reply "it's been a long time since my 21st birthday", while feeling my skin get wrinklier and my flab get flabbier. Before she walked away I pulled out the mom-finger again, aiming it towards her vodka bottle and said "now you be careful drinking too much in the sun, it's dangerous!"

I think maybe I embarrassed J a little too, but I don't care since he had the luxury of being under the influence.

I learned 2 very important lessons at the festival:

First, that it is very possible to enjoy a concert while sober. This may seem obvious to some people but when you don't really remember ever doing it before, it's kind of a revelation.

Second, that when you go into a port-a-potty at a festival full of hippies, and you start thinking how lucky you are because the seat is clean and it's equipped with several full rolls of toilet paper, you probably just haven't gotten around to noticing the finger-streaks of shit smeared on the wall.

sex while pregnant

a post-coital conversation...

J: Sorry for the intrusion.

Me: What intrusion?

J: I wasn't talking to you.

do you have to let it linger?

Over the last 2 days, I had some wicked sciatica pain acting up. What was the worst thing about it? Was it the shuffling around the grocery store feeling like a 98-year-old woman in a housecoat? Was it the inability to find a comfortable sitting position? Or perhaps the need to grab onto walls and furniture to get around my house?

No, the worst thing about my back pain was when I let out a really terrible fart and was then forced to stand in its cloud because I couldn't get away fast enough.

A TRUE post-pregnancy-announcement conversation

J's Grandma: So, where are you going to put the baby?

J: If it's ugly, in the attic.



[We kid, people, we kid!]

You and I have witnessed many things, but none as bodacious as what just happened...

At first, they told us it worked like this:


and sometimes like this:


But then, we realized it was more like this:


this:


and--my god!--even this!


One thing's for sure, it all leads to this:


and, if you're lucky, to this:


So yes, you guys are way too smart for me, and I was too terrible a liar to properly deflect your guesses. It is true, I've gone and gotten knocked up. We are due in February.

Kel, lead the way to the NYC maternity shops!

simpsonization

As a long-time Simpsons fan (I mean, who isn't??), I'm pretty excited for the Simpsons movie, and am really hoping it doesn't suck. At any rate, all the movie hype means there's some pretty cool Simpsons-related stuff on the web these days. I just spent the last half hour "Simpsonizing" myself online.

For this one, I went to simpsonizeme.com and uploaded a photo of my face. I was then able to tweak the various features and add a background:



I made this one using an avatar generator on the official Simpsons Movie website:


Have fun!

ridiculous

I try not to post about work for obvious reasons, but sometimes I really can't stand our clients.

You know how adults in Charlie Brown cartoons sound like..."wah wah waaah wah wah waah wa waah"?

Well sometimes our clients ask us to do things and when I hear the request it sounds like "could you just look in your ass real quick and ask the top 7 magical fairies to come out and play Beethoven's 5th on my desk while wearing the latest fashions from Gwen Stefani's Harajuku Lovers clothing line? And oh, I've heard about these things called iPods and I think it might be important for us to know more about them and how they're used. I need your feedback by the end of the day."