But I haven't managed to shower

Rob left on a business trip at 4:30 this morning. This happens sometimes, and normally does not phase me. But today, as soon as his alarm went off, my brain went into a bad, bad place. A planning place. A place that does not allow sleep to continue. So I got up and made cereal and read a childbirth book, while thoughts of everything I need to do in the coming days and weeks marched a panicked little parade through my mind.

This might be ok except I have childbirth class tonight for 3 hours, and I would really, really rather not pass out in the middle of it. I can just see the teacher dimming the lights to show us one of the highly educational films where some poor woman gives birth to a 4-lb placenta that looks like Jabba the Hut and when the lights go on, there I am in my comfy chair, eyes closed, sucking my thumb.*

I have been so tired lately, so it does not make me happy to bounce out of bed at ridiculous hours due to bouts of nervous energy. But I'm sure it is serving a purpose. A blog post! Evidently, it just requires NOT SLEEPING to get it all done. I'll keep this in mind when the baby comes.



*I don't actually suck my thumb. But the thing about the Jabba placenta is true--from last week's class.

Everyone Naps

Pot luck, anyone?

Rob and I have our own wireless network in the house, aptly--if not super creatively--named RG's Network. But if that wasn't working, here are the other networks in the neighborhood that we seem to have available to us: Goldhammer wireless, bitches and niggas, fattire, and GayRepublicofDrugafornia. I can't wait to meet more of the neighbors.

Deepish Wednesday

Hi guys,
Sorry I'm bad at this blogging thing lately. It's not you, it's me. My mind and my days (not to mention my belly) are very full, and I keep hoping that somehow the blog will just populate itself with words--not just any words, but the words that really describe what's going on with me here in San Francisco, in my life of working at home and being 31 weeks pregnant. And waking up at least 4 times a night to pee, or because it's raining really loud. Or because, like last night, I really needed a bowl (ok, two bowls) of cereal. But it turns out that if I don't write this blog, no one does. So that's good to know.

I haven't really had any weird cravings during my pregnancy, with the exception of being completely obsessed with sugar. But that's not really weird, not anything fun like craving things that totally do not go together: chocolate and avocados, sausages and cottage cheese, black beans and strawberries. What lunatic would eat those things together? They sound gross.

Tonight as I was walking home from yoga, the air smelled exactly like cannoli. So for three blocks I obsessed over how much I wanted to eat cannoli. But we didn't have any cannoli at home. So I ate couscous. I never said it was an interesting story.

My sister has moved in with us, which is pretty amazing. She got a job in San Francisco at an ad agency, and swiftly left her life, dog and boyfriend in Los Angeles. Boyfriend Rob (you may know him as Stan) and dog Rigby are coming up in February and then we will all be one big happy family, although they will have their own house, because otherwise I think Rigby would eat our cats. Sometimes I think I would like to feed them to a dog, when they're screaming and running around at night because they spent their whole day sleeping, just waiting for their chance to torment us. But Liz and Rob appear to want their own place, and I have to respect that. Smokey and Emma will get a reprieve. For now. Rob's tactic when they're acting like animals is to throw balled up socks at them. When I get up in the morning, I am greeted by our long hallway filled with sock balls.

Among the things I wonder: how will the cats react to having a baby in the house? Will Rob throw sock balls at the baby when she wakes us up at night? Does my brain stop working correctly after a certain time of day...like, around now?

Well hello there

Rather than start this post with my list of excuses for why I haven't blogged (family in town, baby books to read, thank you cards to write, walls to stare at), I will just tell you that I still have this odd experience at least a few times a day where I realize I'm pregnant. It's as though I can go through many hours (or even 15-minute increments) where I just...forget. And then I'll see myself in the mirror, or I'll try unsuccessfully to put on socks without sitting down, and it floods through me again, this feeling that "oh my god, there's really a baby in there." And what I'm trying to keep from happening is the next thought, which goes "oh my god, there's a baby in there and some day she's going to be 4 years old, and 9 years old, and 17 years old..." You get the point. There's really no need to rush this, but I just can't believe that this person is coming soon--in roughly 10 weeks--to change my life forever.

So that's been fun and interesting, and is helping me grasp the fact that I do really need to read those baby books (because that part earlier about how I've been reading them is kind of a lie. But I do have them here, so that seems to be a good start.) In fact, I'm mostly focused on the birth itself at this point, and on how I hope it will go, and who will be there with me: Rob, a doula who is yet to be selected, a doctor/midwife (or both), and the random people who will be gawking at me from the door, as I have chosen to give birth in a teaching hospital.

I suspect I won't even notice the people at the door, but the other members of the birth team are pretty important to me. This weekend I was explaining to our visiting family members what a doula is, because--despite the widespread use of doulas as birth attendants--I think for some people it's a pretty foreign concept. To their credit, these people did not act as though I was saying anything silly, and the conversation turned yet again when my brother-in-law said, in all seriousness, "I've also been hearing a lot about tofu. How exactly do you buy that?" Please note, I am not making fun of him. He was just curious.

There's a lot to learn and do, and I would have to be crazy to say that I know everything I will need to know in 10 weeks, or a year, or 17 years. But I plan to take it one step at a time, continue to face my daily surprises, and not be afraid to ask questions. "I've also been hearing a lot about the birth orgasm. How exactly do I get one of those?"

Lucy and Papa

My grandpa sits behind the 607th dog he's ever owned. Her name is Lucy, but we call her Lucifer. She wants to eat you.

But my breath smells delicious

Deepish Thoughts and I are in a bit of an argument. The blog thinks it's not getting enough attention, which is true, but my feeling is that since there are so many areas of my life requiring me right now, the blog has naturally fallen by the wayside. Especially given how busy the holidays were; I was particularly occupied by eating half a pan of peppermint ice cream cake over the course of 4 nights. It's hard work, but I really applied myself and came out the clear victor. And then promptly got a terrible case of hives that I can safely say probably came from the sugar overload. Gross, I know. In fact, I ate so many sweets over the holiday that I might as well have poured a box of granulated sugar directly into my mouth. Still, I wasn't actually sure what the cause of my breakout had been, until I took my spotted arms and legs to yoga, and a midwife who comes to class had a look.

"Have you been eating a lot of new foods, or maybe a lot of sugar?" she asked.

"Ummmmm," I said, like I was trying really hard to remember.

There is something liberating about being pregnant--people tell you to eat what you want (except for my grandmother, who tells me to watch it). And I have stayed fairly healthy, if you just ignore the entire week of Christmas break. Still, when we got back to San Francisco, I ran into my 4-year-old neighbor who looked at me and said "Wow, you are getting really fat!"

No one will tell you the truth like a 4-year-old will.