April 7, 2007

is there anything more frustrating than being in labor for 48 straight hours?
Even if it’s “pre-labor”?

I think not.


A Discovery

March 20, 2007

If my son if born on his due date, he’ll be an Aries.
I will be giving birth to a fire sign.

You might not buy into all that astrology stuff but I do…and in this house we are earth and water signs.

Oh Dear.

Hot Hot Heat*

March 16, 2007

*not the band, the temperature.

Today, it’s a balmy 96 degrees.
Today, I am midway through my 36th week of pregnancy.

These two facts certainly contribute to the insane desire to take a nap in a baby pool full of gelato right now.

But only because I could enjoy the gelato for both it’s icy coolness AND it’s deliciousness. Otherwise what’s the point?

TOMORROW NIGHT: Steve, Luke, and I attempt to recreate one of my favorite memories from when I was losing my mind.
Last St. Pat’s I was pretty out of it (I remember very little of February, March and April of last year, due I would assume to my breakdown) but I got it together enough to try and take my cousin to listen to Flogging Molly at the Mesa Ampitheatre. We were going to sit out on the grass, run away from the rent-a-cops and enjoy the warm weather. As we rushed to hear them that evening (we had to leave the concert earlier in the day to take care of Nana) we ran into a guy who needed to use a cell phone, he was trying to get ahold of his friends on the roof of the hotel next door to the concert. I looked at Steve and I said to the complete stranger (let’s all remember that I was the weeest bit manic those days) “You can use my cell if we can crash the roof with you”. He told us it was cool if his hook up was cool with it. 5 minutes later we were climbing up the side of the building on a ladder, we came out on the roof overlooking the sea of people in the Ampitheatre…not 2 minutes before the band took the stage.
It was phenomenal.
The band was amazing, we stayed far away from the crowd of people and one of Steve’s first concerts was a pretty damn fabulous experiences. I have pictures on my old cell phone, I need to get to them and send them around. It was by far the best way I have ever seen a show, no crowds, no smoke, perfect view of the stage, and sound was as clear as a bell…It was a bright point in that pretty shadowy period.
I exchanged numbers with the guy (a high schooler who seemed amused by the fact that a 20 something chick was willing to commit breaking and entering to see a punk band with her little cousin) but it’s been disconnected…which is a bummer.
That fact notwithstanding, we’re going to hoof it to the Ampitheatre tomorrow evening to try and recreate the madness! You all are welcome to join us if you’re up for excitement, if we can’t get on the roof of the hotel we’re going to stick with the orignal plan from a year ago so be prepared to be sneaky and evade the security folks….

The Best One

March 9, 2007

“The Best One”

Note: I composed all of this at about 2:00 this morning, insomnia struck again and it was the real kind of insomnia where you’re exhausted and can’t move but you can’t fall asleep. And you sort of want to punch whomever is sleeping in the bed next to you because they’re blissfully (loudly) sawing logs mere inches from you. And you have to go into the other room to try and sleep. And end up watching Law and Order reruns for 4 hours.

It was like that.

The subject of this post is a phrase I picked up from my Jess…oftentimes, if you’re doing something nice for her, or have said something particularly brilliant, or if you have just bought her a beer for her new beer leaf (which is, by now, no longer new but tarnished and well established), Jess will turn to you and say: “You’re the best one”.
This phrase is used often in our home, used well. It may be because Luke is not so much with the romance and this a practical way of telling me how wonderful he thinks I am, it may be because it’s nice to change up “I love you” with something else every now and then…
And then I read this:
“…I wasn’t sure how it happened, but I was sure I had found the best one. And I had.
I realize now this is just part of what it means to fall in love. Negatives slip away like dead skin. You don’t even notice they’re gone. You are left with the overwhelming evidence that you’ve got the best one. Logic dictates that not every husband, or wife, or child can be the best one. Yet in the face of that terrible logic, belief persists.
That belief drives us to document it, to photograph the object as proof. It may drive us to share those photographs with strangers (even thousands of them). Though a belief may be illogical does not make it untrue. It is true for all of us. The moment every child enters the world, two insufferable blowhards are born. That’s just the way it is.

And I realized that maybe Jess has created a phrase more powerful than she originally thought. It took me a lot of looking but Luke is the best one I’ve ever known. I realized that Jess has perfectly captured what it means to love unconditionally because, sometimes, late at night, when the belly has kept me up with his dancing, and I’m aching with the muscle pain of carrying around 60 extra pounds, and I’m exhausted but STILL can’t sleep, sometimes I run my hand over the hard ridge where my baby’s head is and whisper: “You’re the best one my babe” and he quiets and I can feel his little hand pushing back at me like he’s saying: “You’re not so bad yourself momma”.


February 21, 2007

when I finally do have this child, I know, unequivocally that I will look forward to the day when he comes in after curfew because I can say to him: “You have ALWAYS kept me up nights my darling”

insomnia sucks

tonight as we were driving back from the movies, we saw one of the neighbors bunnies, Fang (we’ve named the bunnies threatening names to entertain ourselves) just sitting in the middle of the road. Attila the Bun, his counterpart, was sitting in the adjoining lawn watching him.
As we pulled into our driveway I said to Luke “babe, you have to go see what’s wrong with Fang”
to which he replied “I was gonna!”
and he got out of the car, walked to the rabbit, looked at him concernedly, scooped him up and carried him to our neighbors yard. We knocked and returned the rabbit (the general consensus is a car winged him and broke his back and he’s gonna have to be put down poor bun.) Luke talked with our neighbor and allowed the little kid next door to pull him around the house for a while as I just stood there saying “poor bunny!”
When we got inside our house, I told Luke that I loved that he immediately thought to go check on the rabbit, even before I said anything. I said “you love all living creatures”
to which he replied, with a kiss to the belly and a hand on my cheek, “I especially love this living creature. And this one”

the boy has got romantic skills when he wants them that’s for sure.

Adventures in Hospitaling

February 7, 2007

Hooray for histrionics!
Thanks to a seemingly unrelated series of symptoms my OB sent me to the hospital yesterday. While there I got to wear “the gown”, get strapped to fetal monitors, watch my faux contractions on a screen, worry for about an hour that I was going into pre-term labor, get a shot from a nurse with 9 fingers, a ride in a wheelchair from the same nurse and watch Luke pick the lock of a locked hospital bathroom…
it was an awesome day.
I am, in fact, fine. But I was dehydrated (which caused my contractions and in turn caused them to give me a shot of Albueterine – a muscle relaxer that works like Proventil, the asthma medication, in that it relaxes a your muscles but makes you super shaky, also it has a reaction in some people (ME!) that mimics your blood pressure plummeting, but only if you’re hydrated -)so today I begin drinking like I was doing the detox diet again…
“what’s this detox diet?” you muse
surely you knew me when I went on the crazy detox diet?!?! no? you’ve never heard about that? OH MAN. Is that a crazy story. A story for later.


February 5, 2007

If I gave birth today I would have a son.
He would survive.
He would be tiny and birdlike and fragile.
But he would breathe in and out, with human lungs rather than gills…
And his wee little heart would beatbeatbeat.
If I gave birth today
I would be a mother.
It is a comepletely incapacitating thought to have.
The next 10 weeks are for growing. And grow we shall.
Mostly with the idea that I am not the same person I was this time last year.
And I never will be.

A quick note

January 25, 2007

The pot roast?

unstoppably good.


January 10, 2007

A few months ago sat in the dark trying to describe to a dear friend what it was like to lose my mind.(He was very sympathetic, one of the things I love about him is his uncanny ability to appear as though everything the other person is saying is fascinating)

I sat there, in the dark, in the lovely weather and I stared at the sky.

I struggled, like I always do when trying to convey the feelings of that period of my life, I struggled to capture what it was like.

And my mind got louder and fuzzier, like it does, it raced trying to beat my mouth, I felt my stutter coming back. I tried desperately to slow my words so I could catch the chaos of my mind.

My mind is often noisy, always chaotic. I am frequently fuzzed out around my edges, trying to express what it is like in there

I settled on describing to him the auditory hallucinations that made frequent appearances in March, I told him about the whispering from razors that they used to torture me with

I fought through the chaos of my mind to convey to him what its like to have a nervous breakdown.

and I realized that when I was at my craziest, my mind was sharper than it has ever been in my entire life

I was just terrified of what it was telling me.