It's Going To Be A Long Month

It's not even January yet (well, in another 7 hours it will be), and I already feel sorry for Bubba.

He is going to be TOTALLY bored by the time this baby arrives. Why? Because he likes to go out and do things and go for walks and see the City, and my pregnant ass can't really do that anymore, and I've about decided that I WON'T do it anymore. It is just too hard for me to get around with this extra 35 pounds hanging off my front. I'm doing good just to get from my apartment to the subway, then up the stairs and the several blocks from the subway to work. It is still a toss-up as to whether 3 long blocks+2 short blocks with no subway transfers is better than 4 short blocks plus a bunch of stairs to transfer. Right now, I'm going with the extra walking, but we'll see....

And, and! I'm sure Bubba is sick of hearing how my back/feet/legs hurt. There's another month+ of that, too.

So, I sit on my butt on 'my' couch (the love seat) with my feet up reading/cross stitching/writing thank yous/surfing the internet. And Bubba takes care of everything. I can not be more thankful for that, he's the bestest hubby EVER!

My Mind is Blank

Why is it so hard to come up with titles?

This was always my No. 1 problem when writing an essay or something in school. I would get the whole damn thing finished and STILL not have a catchy title. When my English teacher was always telling me that the title should come FIRST! I think it just proves that I really am NOT that creative. I could never be a writer, as I'd have to come up with good titles for my writing. Otherwise no one would read my extremely intelligent drivel. Like they don't right now.

You! Out there right now reading this! What would YOU title this blog entry? What about the one after?

Crowd Control

I am sick of all the damn people that have flooded my town for the holiday week. After yesterday, I am convinced that it is, in fact, the TOURISTS that are the rude people in NYC. Locals are quite nice and accommodating and only get riled up because some damn out-of-towner was acting like an IDIOT!

I worked a half-day yesterday, and took off at lunch to hang out and run around with my parents and sister for the afternoon. They got in on Tuesday and left today, so it was my last chance to spend time with them. I met my parents and Bubba at Rockefeller Center because they wanted to see the Big Tree, and then we were going to do a little shopping, maybe stroll up to Bloomies to look at their after-Christmas-ornament sale. I beat them to the rendevous point, which was the concourse level of 30 Rock, where they have some lunch places and a Starbucks and lots of tables like a mall food-court. It's also the way to get to the skating rink entrance. I figured I'd just plop my large-overly-pregnant self into a chair and wait for them, then we'd be on our way. There were GOBS of people already looking like they needed a nap from their stressed-out demeanors and sour faces....like they'd be doing this for HOURS. I realized that there was no way I'd be able to get a whole table for myself, as there were lots of other table-stalkers, so I started looking for just a CHAIR to sit in, thinking I don't need a table at all, I just want to take a load off and sit my body down for a few minutes. I start heading to a table that looks like they're getting up, when I get elbowed out of the way by a couple who then said 'WE WERE HERE FIRST!' I almost fell down, but managed to say "I just wanted a chair, take the damn table, and I hope you get heartburn for making a great-with-child preggo lady stand up! A pox on you AND your children!" Well, I didn't say that, but I really wanted to. I just shrugged at no one in particular, because no one was paying me ANY mind, and waddled over to the wall. They don't let you sit on the floor in Rockefeller Center, and I know this, but I though 'WTH, I DARE anyone to come and get me up!' So I slid to the floor, got out my cross-word, and proceeded to wait for Bubba and the 'Rents. The 2 security guards glanced over at me a few times and started heading my way, then realized the 'state' I was in and left me alone. Finally they both came over and asked if I'd like to find a seat and I said, in my sweetest voice, 'I'd LOVE to find a seat, but good luck getting anyone to give theirs up for a pregnant lady!' He kind of nodded sympathetically, told me to stay there, and he headed off. Bubba calls about the time the guy shows back up with a chair, and I tell him thanks, but I really was just waiting for someone, and he helped haul me off the floor.

Now, on my normal, everyday commute and trek through this great City, I usually have no problems with this pregnant state that I am in, and it's quite easy to get around (although it can be quite tiring). People on the subway can be kind of oblivious when hooked up to their ipods, but for the most part, when I say excuse me, they all hustle to get out of the way of the Big Giant Belly that is headed their way. And I will usually get a seat on the subway. I've even had offers from people to carry my bags, but I'm not that desperate. Yet. Bottom line, most locals that I see on a daily basis are all sympathetic to a pregnant woman trying to get around, and don't huff and puff that I'm going to slow, or glare at me as I try to move over so they can get by my huge belly. MOST of them give me a glance and a small, knowing smile, and the really brave ones ask when I'm due and wish me luck, etc. It's quite pleasant, really.

So, back to my original point of rudeness. The tourists seem to walk around the city thinking they own the place. That they are entitled to act this way because everyone else seems to. They fail to grasp that those of us who live here manage quite well by SHARING the limited space we do have! For example:

• They bump into you on the sidewalk, when it's clear that I really CAN'T get out of the way without stepping off the curb into on-coming traffic, then they glare at you for the disruption, even though THEY were the ones walking 4-across on a crowded sidewalk!
• They race for the seats on the subway, or if there aren't any, they REFUSE to move into the car and away from the door so others can get in! It's like they think they'll not be able to get OFF this crazy train once they are ON!!!
• They stop on a dime in the middle of a crowded sidwalk, and then get irritated when you run into them.
• And my favorite: they give you the look of death when you ask if they need directions somewhere. How dare I assume they don't know where they're going?! Like I'm going to steer them in the wrong direction just to amuse myself, or this is a diversion and my super-stealthy partner is currently picking their pocket!

Actually, that last one isn't a bad idea.

It's time for the rude tourists to leave and give me a last month to enjoy my city, albeit slower than before, before I become a mother and have a whole separate list of complaints about how people with babies/children are treated.

The First of 'The Lasts'

Wednesday night was my last concert with the Juilliard Choral Union. It was also my last day of choir, as I won't be coming back to rehearsals after the New Year. This was my third year with the chorus, and it really was so much fun and a fantastic experience. I've gotten to sing a huge variety of music, in several famous venues.

It kind of snuck up on me, actually. This is the first thing I've 'stopped' doing since getting pregnant, but I know it's only the beginning. It was rather bittersweet, as I am really getting tired these days and it's just hard to make it through the work day sometimes, let alone sing for 3 hours straight. But I will miss singing on a weekly basis, and miss the friends I've made.

Now I'll have to satisify my need to sing in church, and singing to my little guy! Although I think he prefers Bubba's voice to mine, as he definitely kicks more when Bubba sings to him than when I do!

Weird Guy or Super Spy?

There is an older gentleman that Bubba and I see Sunday morning's when we ride the bus to church. We call him Duane Reade Guy. We don't see him every Sunday, but almost. He gets on the bus the stop after we get on, and then always gets off at 70th Street and Broadway. There is a Duane Reade (that's a local drugstore for you non-New Yorkers) at that corner, and he ALWAYS walks over to 'window shop.' Always. He will persue the window display, which is usually non-existant because they just don't put anything in there but pictures, and that's just the beginning of the confusion. He'll walk the entire length of the store, then look in the windows at the closed Northfork Bank next door. This is his standard routine, never waivering, and he even gets very irate if the bus is late. He never goes in the store, just walks along the store-front from one end to the other, pausing to eye some particular ware. But, again, all of the Duane Reade stores recently took all their merchandise out of the store-front and there's just pictures of things you can buy there. So he can't be window shopping if there's nothing in the windows!

Bubba and I always watch him a bit bemused, and then try to figure out what the hell he's doing on a Sunday morning at 9:15, taking the bus from 103rd Street to 70th Street, just to look in the window of a Duane Reade.

• Is he meeting someone? We never see anyone, but granted, we are on the bus that leaves promptly after he gets off, so we don't get to stick around and see what happens.
• Did he use to live there and just likes that Duane Reade? But he never goes in!
• Is he a child-predator and is waiting for the mommies to walk their kids by en-route to the park?
• Does his estranged son/daughter work there and that's the only way he can get a glimpse of them? By staring in the window, pretending to be window-shopping in a window with nothing in it?
• OR, is it a sign/signal that something has happened or is about to? Like in spy novels where the spy gets 'tips' from just someone showing up at a particular time and place. It always reminds me of The Sting: when the 'mark' walks across the street and down the alley, one of the characters is in an apt. across the street and rings the bell to alert everyone else that the 'mark' is on the way.

I think it's this last one, sheerly because it is the more entertaining idea and can lead our imaginations down so many different roads. Who knows? Maybe Duane Reade Guy is really affecting the stock market by appearing when his 'client' needs to buy/sell a particular stock! We could get him for insider trading! Or, or, or, he's working for the Mob! Or he's letting a kidnapper know that he's still around and working on the ransom money! The scenarios are endless! Fine Sunday morning fun for the remaining 10-15 minutes we spend on the bus before we get off ourselves.

Also just proves that the bus is WAY more fun than a taxi!

My sentiments exactly

Bubba has a new post that I wanted everyone to read. Granted, most of you that read MY blog read his as well, but I just wanted to point you in that general direction.

32 Weeks

That's about how long I've been pregnant (well, offically 32 weeks on Friday....so I'm a few days early). 8 months. 2 to go. That's right, pregnancy is, in fact, 10 months. Do the math, people. 40 weeks at 4 weeks per month equals....that's right, 10 months!

We have been busy bees at our house, getting things put together and put away (although we are STILL waiting on the damn crib part!), doing Christmas shopping, wrapping gifts, writing thank you notes. Time is flyin' by, I tell ya! It seems like forever until my last day of work on February 2 (provided, of course, that the Tater makes it that long), but at the same time, it is just around the corner! December is flying by, and I'm hoping January does, too. While I've had an easy pregnancy for the most part, I'm about sick of my wardrobe, it's getting harder and harder for me to get up and around, and I'm ready to get on with it already!

The Tater is doing well, he moves more and more everyday. I'm starting to feel body parts and can tell what side he's laying on, etc. He's got a regular sleep/wake pattern, and he responds by poking/kicking/punching the ever-lovin' crap out of me when I put my headphones down to my belly for him to hear some soothing Mozart at work. I guess it's not so soothing. But, I get the same thing with other music, so maybe he's telling me it's too loud? It's fun watching and feeling him move, though. I'm measuring 2 weeks ahead of schedule, so we'll see what's in store for the next 2 months.