Rock Out!

We got this rocker today at a 'block sale' in our neighborhood. As there aren't really garages in Manhattan, neighborhoods will close off a street for the day and have a block sale! Cool, huh? We were just strolling through, not really looking for anything particular (except for cheap baby stuff) on our morning walk, and came across this awesome rocker. We inquired as to price, and decided the $35 she was asking for it was more than reasonable. Score! It's comfortable, not too high or too low to sit in, more or less matches the rest of our furniture, and I can buy seat pads for it if I want. And, if we turn out NOT to like it after Baby B arrives, we can give it away with no guilt! I am stoked!

The Choice

Bubba sent me this blog about the passing of Ann Richards, written by a woman who writes for the NY Times, among other things.

*I am inserting the gist of it here for those that can't access the link above*

Ann Richards, Hillary Clinton – those women of that turbulent, transitional period of the 80’s into the 90’s – had it right. You can’t clean house and make it to “the dome” too. You can’t bake cookies and make it to the Senate. And that’s not just because there isn’t enough time. More profoundly, it’s because it just isn’t human to do all that. With all of our spouting off these days about the glorious variety of women’s Choice, there is one basic choice that we are not humanly able to make: we cannot choose what kind of people we are or what we are driven, drawn, destined to do. The best we can do is be ourselves – and stand up for what it takes to bring our self into being.
I hate to bake cookies. I will never have a neat house. And I am sick and tired of ruining my days – and my family’s for that matter – trying to be someone I am constitutionally incapable of being.
I want to be like Ann Richards, who in the later years of her life freed herself from the need to do things perfectly, relinquished the desire to be all things to all people, and focused, she said in a 2001 interview, on living a life filled with love, fun and work.

Now I don't always agree with the women who write for the Times, but this one really had an affect on me. I have always been of the opinion that women hold all the cards. We can stay home, we can work, we can do a little of both (God bless those women who are able to do that), we can choose NOT to have children, the list goes on and on. (Bubba says men have two choices....work or go to jail, and he's not all wrong.) Anyway, the problem is that The Choice isn't always easy, and you are damn lucky if you are actually in a position to CHOOSE one or the other. A lot of women don't have those choices. The article points out that you should also be true to yourself if you DO have the choice and not kill yourself by trying to be Super Woman. You are who you are, and no amount of Oprah or Martha Stewart day time TV will change that.

Makes me think of Baby Boom. I love that movie. Whenever I see a woman on the street here who is obviously a Career Woman pushing a stroller, I'm reminded of the scene when Diane Keaton is pushing the stroller and trying to keep up with the non-mommy woman who is passing her, dressed to the Nines in heels and a business suit, and she just gives up with complete resignation after less than a block. It is the shifting point in the movie, and one that I think most women can identify with.

I don't know yet which side of the Work/Stay Home line I'm going to fall on. It will likely be a little of both as our family life evolves and kids grow up, etc. At least, that's what I hope and pray. But I thank God I have The Choice in the first place.

And that I can bake a mean batch of cookies one night and talk about highway design the next day.

Super-Human Smeller

There are things about pregnancy that people always tell you, but that you never really appreciate until you are actually going through them. Which leaves you men out altogether, sorry guys.**

For example, your sense of smell is magnified beyond belief. This usually seems to apply to smells you don't care for anyway. Case-in-point, I can smell the cucumber something-or-other that the guy in the cube 2 rows over from me is having for lunch. I don't care for cucumbers. In fact, it's probably safe to say that I avoid them at all costs. It helps that I'm allergic, so I can get away with leaving them on my plate of salad and not having the hostess feel slighted. At any rate, all the books tell you that Smell Sensitivity happens almost immediately. Be it sitting in your office, walking into your own kitchen, or walking down the street, you never know when something offensive is going to float up your nose and cause you to gag. (Luckily, I am not too sensitive with smells in the first place, and never had the experience of smelling something so bad that I threw up. But I'm one of the lucky few.)

It is Murphy's Law that this only occurs on things that you'd rather not be smelling in the first place. Must be your body telling you to avoid that particular object/area/food/person/whatever because it is potentially harmful to you and therefore the fetus you are gestating. But why does it have to be so intense? I have yet to read anything explaining this phenomenon, except that it happens in most women and continues throughout the pregnancy and often times through the first few months of mother-hood. Wonderful. Why can't the smell of fresh-baked cookies be that overwhelming?

Speaking of The Nose, I HAVE found explanations as to why it is constantly stuffy--the pregnancy hormones surging through your body make various membranes in your body swell slightly, including your sinuses among other things. Great. I'm stuck with a stuffy nose and can not safely take any medication for it without consulting my physician, so I just have to suffer through. How in the world do you manage to have a stuffy nose that you can't blow AND still be able to smell BO coming down the hall before you can identify the person? How is this biologically possible?

Add it to my list of things that make you go 'Hmmm....'

**Guys, feel free to skip this post, as it is about pregnancy symptoms and therefore for the ladies. Or read on and enjoy finding out what you are missing and having new sympathy for pregnant women everywhere. And for Bubba, who has to hear about it from me all the time!**

Grey's Anatomy

How come no one told me how good this show is? IT ROCKS!

Progressive Dining

As this pregnancy progresses, it is becoming more and more clear that I am just going to be eating constantly throughout the day. Baby B has gotten much more demanding about being fed, and is growing like a weed. So, being the good gestating woman that I am, I'm more than happy to oblige. However. As the uterus gets bigger, all the internal organs above it get squished upward. Meaning my stomach now competes for space with my lungs (more or less anyway). This means that it really doesn't take much to fill me up, as the whole breathing thing totally takes precedence over digestion and my stomach seems to be smaller.

So, instead of eating regular sized meals at meal-time, with light snacks in between, I have to pretty much eat continously throughout the day. Because the minute I eat too much, Evil Bloat arrives and makes Mama Katie EXTREMELY uncomfortable and irritable and a general pain-in-the-ass to be around. But Baby B isn't going to cut me some slack on the caloric intake required for him/her to grow properly! Ah, the joys of mother-to-be-hood. Now you know why pregnant women are hungry and eating all the time. We really don't need that many more calories per day (they recommend 300-500) than the average Josephine, there's just not enough room in there with a growing baby to digest 'regular' meals properly!

Thus, I'm known around the office now as the girl with food in her mouth.

Birth Control and Blessings

So, time for a more positive post than the last, depressing, self-loathing one. Eddie, bygones.

Yesterday I had a crappy afternoon, so I decided on a little retail therapy. I am not much of a shopper, which gets a gasp from my Mama and little Sis (and Bubba's Mom, who has a black belt in shopping), so this was a new thing, because I don't usually look at shopping as 'therapy.' When I need 'therapy' I usually head for my couch and don't move from there all night (just ask Bubba, he has to do everything these days). I blame the hormones. But, seeing as how I have ZERO to wear these days, thanks to my bulging belly that is definitely broadcasting to the world that I don't just have a beer gut, I need clothes. My closet is empty, and it's not even that big to begin with. So I took my happy self to one of 2 Gap stores in Manhattan that has a maternity section. Unfortunately the store I chose happens to be catty-corner from Macy's, and was a zoo. I forgot that it's back-to-school here on Wednesday, so the place was CRAWLING with kids and their mommies doing their last-minute shopping. Did I mention that the maternity section of this store also shares a dressing room with the kids department? Pigs' Sister commented on her blog about pregnancy symptoms being excellent birth-control. This experience would have been, too, except that everyone using that extremely small dressing room was already knocked-up or had kids, and the BC theory was lost on them.

When I got on the train to go home, laden with my purchases, I was joined one stop later by a woman holding on to the arm of a screaming, writhing toddler who clearly DID NOT want to get on this particular train. He proceeded to throw himself down onto the subway floor (ew, gross!) and kick and scream, making the rest of us who had to SHARE the car with him groan inwardly and wish we'd chosen another car to get into. Mommy did nothing while the child threw the tantrum, not even apologizing to the people her offspring kicked! I hate this kind of parenting, and was sitting there thinking 'My child will never do such things in public because s/he will KNOW better. I'm going to be a better parent than that.' The tantrum continued for 3 more stops, where they (thankfully) got off. Guess he wanted to take a cab. More birth control for Katie Bonk.

The 'Blessings' part of this post is that I felt the baby kick last night for the first time! I was laying there trying to go to sleep and felt what could only be described as a gas bubble that exploded inside. Like an inward fart. Gross, I know, but I don't know how else to describe it. But it was there! Happened several times, and I was so excited that I couldn't fall asleep, and am thus extra sleepy today. I know this will soon turn into me groaning that the kid wakes up when I lie down, but for now, it's just super-cool.

I'm a Bad Person

I did a very bad thing today. I made my friend, who flew all the way here from Cleveland with her 9 month old to visit me, miss her flight home. I mis-read the damn train schedules and instead of getting there with 30 minutes to spare (after getting up at 6am), she is right now at Newark Airport (I HATE THAT PLACE!) with Bubba, missing her 10:10am flight. The next one is at 2:30. Yikes! Of course, the flight before was 2 hours later, and the flight after the 2:30 is 2 hours later, but no, the time between now and the next one is 4 hours. Of course. So, what is usually not a big deal, just a hassle that you have to sit in the airport, is now a huge problem. My friend is by herself. With a child. And needing to use her breast pump before noon. Which she can't do while holding a baby in the baby bjorn. By herself. In an airport with mean people who don't care if you missed your flight and will leak milk all over the place. Also? You can't take a breast pump through security. So she can't check her bag. Meaning she is there, by herself, with a tired baby who can't take a nap because there's so much to look at, so she's cranky. And did I mention the next flight isn't for another FOUR HOURS!?

So. That's the situation, and why my friend will never visit me again. I'm a terrible host, thinking the trains run every 10-20 minutes. HAH! Not on Sunday! Only two every hour, and they are 7 minutes apart, then nothing! Why? Why can't there be one every 30 minutes? Instead of 7 after the hour and 14 after the hour? What kind of sense does this make? Stupid NJ Transit. I hate New Jersey. (Sorry Eddie, but I do.)

I am at home, because it didn't make sense for both of us to take the effing train all the way out to Newark f%$^#& airport at a grand cost of $30 each. And Bubba went instead of me because I'm knocked up and can't help with the luggage. I feel like SUCH a heel. I have the butterflies-in-my-tummy, nervous-feeling thing going on, and just feel terrible. It's half my fault, half the MTA's fault for always having construction on the weekends, making the trains run and half-speed for about a mile and making our subway ride 35 minutes instead of 20-25!!! I just want to scream or cry, and for some reason, I am not doing either. I am typing about it instead. So stressed out, instead of enjoying a relaxing, rainy Sunday. This is why I don't fly out of Newark. Too big of a hassle, too much stress involved.

Utter Disrespect

Bubba and I went to the Yankees/Orioles game last night. We always make it there for the National Anthem (those of you who know Bubba well know that bad things happen if you don't!), and I continue to be amazed at the lack of respect people have for our National Anthem. Sure, they stand and take their hats off, but no one sings (they don't know the words) or puts their hand over their heart, and few people ACTUALLY look at the flag (I know, I've cheated and looked around out of curiousity and using my peripheral vision) throughout the entire song. I know it's challenging to sing (believe me, I'm a singer, I know), but come on, people! Show some respect! Your grandfather (who likely served his country in the armed forces at some point) would yell at you if he saw your behavior! This is nothing new, it happens at every event I've ever been to. But it still chaps my hide.

And then, THEN! The 7th inning stretch rolls around, and the Yankees have a moment of silence for our service men and women, then play God Bless America (thankfully no one sings it anymore). Been doing it since 9/11 (and frankly, I'm sick of it....just one more thing to squeeze in to an already too-long game). And EVERYONE takes their hats off and sings the ENTIRE song! Yes, it's easier to sing AND the words are simpler, AND they put them up on the jumbo-tron, but IT WAS WRITTEN FOR A BROADWAY MUSICAL AND IS NOT OUR NATIONAL ANTHEM!!! On top of all that, you ARE NOT required to remove your hat! Bubba removes his for the moment of silence, then puts it back on for the song (which I've started not singing out of protest). He actually got yelled at last night that it was disrespectful by some jack-ass behind us. He turned around and asked if it was our National Anthem, and the guy said 'everyone else is doing it!' which, frankly, is not the answer to the question. And, it shut him up pretty quick.

I have friends and family that have served or are currently serving in our armed forces, and I think they would agree with me that it is disrespectful to our country and to them to remove your cover (hat) for anything other than the National Anthem or the presentation of the Colors (which is basically what happens when we sing the National Anthem).

On a similar topic, Bubba attended the ground-breaking ceremony for the new Yankee stadium (which he's been working on the design for) yesterday morning. He said NO ONE took their hats off for the presentation of the Colors, by men and women actually in uniform! People sometimes surprise me with their ignorance.

Can you tell this REALLY chaps my hide? I suppose I should be used to it, but people never cease to amaze me. It brings up an interesting question....how many of YOU out there in cyber space actually know the words to the National Anthem and sing them (more or less) when it's played? How many of you know all the words to God Bless America? I hope you surprise me, but I'm not too optimistic.

Cravings

I'm craving Mexican food these days. Enchiladas, burritos, refried beans, salsa, tacos, tamales. You name it, I want it. Sounds yummy to my swelling tummy! The problem is that there is no good place except my own kitchen to find these items (except maybe the quac). The only place even remotely close that I'll actually go in to is Taco Bell, which does satisfy my taco and burrito needs. But for enchiladas, I have to make them at home. Which is not hard, but relatively time consuming, and I don't ever feel much like cooking a whole lot in the summer, as the kitchen is the warmest place in my apt.

So you Texans out there eat some good ol' Mexican food for me sometime this week. And think of my poor child who has to get by with Taco Bell. ~Sigh~

Inhumane?

Bubba and I walked to work yesterday morning behind a Great Dane. He was huge. H-U-G-E. Probably bigger than Bubba if he stood up, which I guess is normal for a Great Dane. But this is not something you normally see on a NYC sidewalk. Tiny dogs you can fit in your purse, a la Paris Hilton? Yes. Dogs that you KNOW weigh more than you? Not so much. Where in the hell do they put this dog? I think it's a crime to have big dogs in small apartments. And that's pretty much all that's left in NYC.

Inhumane, I tell ya.

It's Official!!

For those of you who have been in the dark, I'm pregnant! 14 weeks, to be exact. I figured it was time for me to come out of the closet. I'm sorry if you are just hearing this news now, please forgive me and continue to come visit!

This picture is my 12 week ultrasound. I'll get another on Sept. 19th to find the out the gender. So, for the time being, meet Baby B!

Edited for content....

(I had to edit this previous post because of sensitive info on the picture! Whoops!)

That's One I Haven't Seen Before

On our walk tonight in Riverside Park, I spied a RACCOON in a tree! That's right. A nocturnal animal known for foraging trash (guess that makes Manhattan his Gold Mine). Up in a pretty tall tree that no one I know could have climbed. It was dusk, an appropriate time for raccoon's to be out and about getting their breakfast, but still disconcerting considering we're in the middle of a huge city and it was out in the open. We stopped and stared, then went on about our business, like we normally do when we see anything strange in the city.

I wonder if it goes to visit it's 'Coon cousins in the country and tells them all his city stories?

Sex Ed., or Lack Thereof

Japruf wrote an interesting post yesterday (you might check it out before reading further, so you know what I'm talking about). It touched on a subject near and dear to my heart, the appalling lack of sex education to teens in school. I know this is a touchy subject, and we can go on and on about whether to preach Abstinence or Protection. But I think most of the women who read this blog (and hopefully some of the men, too) will agree that most of what we learn regarding how our bodies work, we most likely didn't learn in Health. How many of us sat in a classroom where the health class was taught by a man, and most often a coach? (I can only speak from the TX school system, so I hope those of you not educated in TX will chime in here.) It's like driver's ed....one of those classes the off-season coach gets to teach. That's not the point of this post, really, except to point out that most men don't really know how the female body actually works, so it's not really their fault that we don't learn it any sooner.

I guess my point is that whether you are on the Abstinence side or the Protection side, we can all agree that having all the information up front about pregnancy and STDs and the consequences of the choices you make is very important. I think it would help drive the point home that if you choose to mess around with sex and not protect yourself, you really are playing with fire. Granted, I think there is an age-appropriate time and place for learning this information, and I don't think my 7th grade health class would have been the best place. But, I think several of you out there would agree with me when I say that if I'd known in high school what I know now about the how wonderful and amazing 'machine' that is the female body works, and how finely tuned it has to be for everything to 'work' properly, I wouldn't have spent so much money on birth control over the past 10 years!

Another thing to point out is the fact that most of this information is a relatively recent discovery. I'd say within the last 100 years or so. Teen pregnancy is a sad but true reality, but the fact of the matter is that women have been having babies in their teens for centuries. 150 years ago, it was not uncommon for a woman to be married and have at least one baby before her 20th birthday. In fact, in certain societies, it was a social stigma to be un-wed after 20....you were deemed an old maid (the shame of it all!). Thank God we have moved past those times. But in light of the fact that kids are 'growing up' faster than ever, and have all of this information to learn and take in, we should keep up with the times and improve our methods and means of education.

Freakin' Weird

For a while now, Bubba and I have been finishing each other's sentences. Or he'll say something that I was JUST thinking and about to say. This is getting weird to me. Almost as if someone is invading my thoughts and I don't have one to myself anymore. Well, not really, but it's strange that we both have the same comment about things like...the girl walking down the street with HUGE tracks of land, or the fact that one of Bubba's Astros just made a big play in the outfield, or that we need milk from the store.

Guess that's what 5 years of marriage will do to you....make nothing you say to your spouse surprising anymore.

A Shift in Style

I walked in my office building today, and was followed by a woman who commented that she loved the dress I'm wearing. It is what you would call a 'shift' dress, not much shape, short, and very comfortable. (Not the most stylish these days, I realize that, but still. I like to wear them in the summer because they are just so damn cool....much more comfortable body-temperature wise than pants, and most men in my office would never comment on the seemingly-casual look because, after all, it is a dress.) Anyway, the amazing thing about the woman commenting about it is because it's most likely more than 5 years old, and I inherited it from my mom when she lost a lot of weight! It's still a little big on me, but in the hot and humid days of July in NYC, I don't really care that much. The woman also asked where I got it, and was shocked when I said "Gap, a few years ago." She said she thought it was a new style from Saks! Made me feel so stylish in my shift-dress.

Everlasting Gobstopper

I watched the original Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory last night on ABC Family. I had forgotten how much I enjoy that movie, even though I've seen it hundreds of times. My favorite part is when they first go in the 'candy' part of the factory, with the chocolate river, and Mr. Wonka sings 'Come with me, and you'll be in a world of pure imagination,' while sipping tea out of a daffodil then eating the cup when he's done. That song always makes me remember my childhood, and how much fun I had 'Playing Pretend.' I had a very active imagination, and sometimes I wonder what happened to it in adult-hood. Maybe when I have kids of my own I'll find it again.

~Sigh~

I'm at work today, on what SHOULD be a holiday, Monday, July 3rd. Not one of the 'big bosses' is at work today. Probably because they have more vacation than they know what to do with (I like to call these people Workaholics That Make The Rest Of Us Look Bad). It was so depressing to get on the [usually crowded] train today. Why do engineering firms INSIST on making their employees suffer? Not many other professionals are working today, why must we?

Bubba isn't even at work today, his firm gave him the day off because they've all been working so hard. Hmph. Guess we slackers over here at my firm haven't been. I'm sad that I don't get to hang around and do nothing with him today. Instead, I'm suffering here in boredom because I'm kind of at a cross-roads and my project manager isn't here to help enlighten me.

Oh well. In a sheer stroke of luck, I returned home from Texas to find out that we are going to have Summer Hours this summer for the first time ever! This is where you work 4 - 10 hour days and get a day off instead of 5 - 8 hour days. I've requested Friday off, so we'll see if I'm one of the lucky ones who doesn't have to take Monday (40% of each department has to be here either Monday or Friday). Either way, YAY FOR ME!!!

The Things That Soothe

I do not have what you'd call a Sweet Tooth. I prefer a nice bowl of salted and lightly buttered popcorn to a big ol' slab of chocolate cake. (This makes ordering dessert with Bubba a challenge, as he has a LARGE sweet tooth.) But there are just some times when nothing but a little chocolate morsel will make you feel better and soothe the things that are irritating you.

RANT

I came out of the store yesterday and nearly ran over a local 'hoodie' from my neighborhood, who was parked right outside the grocery store automatic door with a stroller. I had 3 bags, and refrained from my usual cursing under my breath when I noticed the stroller, and that's when I saw it: the child in the stroller was definitely under a year old, and was WATCHING A PORTABLE DVD PLAYER!!! I couldn't see what was actually on the screen, so I looked up at 'dad' (it's easier to just assume that's what he was) to see if HE was the one watching, but no. He was busy with his PDA/cell-phone/thingamajig and not even paying attention to said child.

Now this was clearly a lower-income 'dad-with-child', not to mention the fact that 'dad' did not look old enough to buy the cigarettes he was smoking. So we'll all use our own imaginations as to where the DVD player came from. But SERIOUSLY!!! Your kid would be well entertained by the dog tied up next to where you are standing! Which comes to my point, if I have one:

If you bought the DVD player, you are clearly stupid. (Yes, there are other indications as to 'dad's stupidity level listed above, but let's focus on the player, people.)
If you stole it, you should have pawned it for the cash so my tax dollars don't have to support your food stamps!!!

Bubba and I have about decided that NYC is only for the rich and the poor....not the middle class. The rich because they can afford it, the poor because they clearly CAN'T and qualify for any number of free services above and beyond the food stamps. Yet the pisser is that they spend any money they DO have on crap like that! Urg. Makes me so mad!!!