Wednesday, May 20, 2015

My hope

My hope is that this baby will be born with a head of crazy dark hair, piercing blue eyes, and freckles so that I'll know it's mine. Because so far, along with the fact that it's a boy, this babe is all Matt.

How do I know? Here are the top 5:
  1. Since I've been pregnant, I've eaten more sweets than I have in my entire non-pregnancy life. I'm a savory person, but this baby is basically requesting the diet of a humming bird (just like his father). Thank goodness fruit counts. Also my taste for candy has flipped 180. Sponge candy or chocolate? Out! Skittles*, in! Skittles? Who am I?
  2. Cereal - I must eat it as least once a day. With loads of real whole milk. I could  (if I allowed myself) eat it for every meal, with a side of watermelon of course. Though Matt would eat Cinnamon Toast Crunch instead of my Shredded Wheat (and drop the watermelon) this is his dream diet - not mine.
  3. Why yes, I HAVE ordered ice cream in public, eaten it, and then gone back up to order and eat more. And no, I felt no shame.
  4. The baby never stops poking me. Ever. He is in constant need of my love and attention, similar to a puppy...or his father. I bet one of the first faces he makes is involves his bottom lip sticking out with sad puppy eyes.
  5. Speaking of the fact that he never stops moving - the way he moves is so Matt. It's like the womb is too small and cramped. Matt does this thing when he's in too tight of a space (in reality or in his head) where he starts tossing his shoulders like a line-backer. That's what this baby's "kicking" is like - I would bet it's all shoulder tossing.
We're past the mid-way point and to be honest, I couldn't be more happy about that. I love Matt with my whole heart, but having a mini-Matt living inside me has made me realize how much I like being just me. It's a job I'm happy to do, but I have to admit I do not have that mythical pregnancy glow. But we're near the home-stretch, I can see it. Light at the end of the tunnel girl...look to the light.

*Can we talk about Skittles for a second? WHEN did green change from lime to green apple?! And who made this change?! They should be taken out back an whipped silly. Thanks for ruining the only Skittle flavor I ever loved, jerks!

Sunday, May 03, 2015

How did we get here

So the conversation went something like this as we stared out the window at our snow covered cars and the 4 ft snow ruts in the road:

"There's got to be a place in the rest of the country where it is not snowing in May."

"Maybe a place where 80 degrees is not a myth."

"A place where the sun shines and walking outside doesn't cause my face to hurt."

And then there was another conversation over a fish fry in a diner that went like:

"I need a vacation. A real one where I have no obligations and no requirement to see people I know."

"I have points. Where do you want to go?"

And then one during an existential breakdown that went like this:

"Someday we have to live someplace bigger than Rochester. Some place different for a while."

"Some place where it doesn't snow for 6 months and there is bigger thinking."

"What do you know about this Austin place people keep telling us is cool."

"I hear there is a lot of music."

And so we ended up in Austin, Texas thanks to an incredibly generous gift of two flights and a hotel room from my father. Apparently some people are calling this our babymoon. A little too twee for me, but I get the sentiment; the last leg of the 3 hour flight was a little rough on my hips.

It's been worth it. What we ate-saw-did was oddly a little less of the story this time (though it was all fantastic and I'll share that next). This time it was really about letting my body thaw. Sleeping in on a mattress that doesn't hurt my back. Laughing endlessly with my husband as we wove through a surprisingly hilly, green, and beautiful Texas (three things I never thought I'd say) while we make up words like Gobo. Waking him up by singing a Deedle original requesting just one pancake. And freeing my hips from the strain of this belly in a hotel pool for an hour just because I could.

There's been no pressure. None. No time lines, no coats, no have-tos, no expectations, no planning, no alarm clocks. And sure, there are a lot of bros in Austin (I'm pretty sure the median age here is 25) but other than the oddity of it - who cares. I'm warm, I'm happy, and I'm actually relaxed. Three things that for months now I didn't think were possible.

Thursday, April 23, 2015

Unicorn Conversations

I had a GREAT conversation today. One of those conversations where I am talking with someone and I am immediately aware that I am not a crazy person (like I often feel). It's really rare for me to have a conversation where I feel that the person on the other end is exactly on my wavelength. Not that they agree with what I'm saying, but that they can interact with me on a completely different level.

Anyway, it was exhilarating and made me want to push all other things aside and be like, "Hey you. Let's continue doing this until I am exhausted and then go have a martini." But 1.) that's not how [my] life works 2.) someday this baby will have finally left this body we are sharing and I can once again enjoy the calming effects of gin but sadly that day is not today.

On something along the same train-ride of the conversation is this video that is being passed between many of my most-favorite-lady-friends on the social medias. It's lovely, and the first time I watched it (yes, there have been multiple viewings) I fell in love. Yes because of the satire. Yes because of the ladies in it. But mostly because I feel like if you were able to look inside my brain like a Viewmaster, this is what you would see and hear. In my world, it is a conversation of perfection - right down to the cake plates and champagne.

Maybe I'm not alone, just rare. Maybe there are others like me.

P.S. if you haven't seen this, the language of it is not safe for work/kids/maybe your grandmother. Just an FYI you might want to pull out your headphones. 

Friday, April 17, 2015

Like a worn blanket

in the hands of a teenager, The Shins are have always been there for me. Through the sad, the truly difficult, the bizarre, the never-again, and the chapter making. Somebody far more important than me is quoted as saying that beer is proof God loves us and wants us to be happy. Maybe they said it, maybe they didn't, but it feels true on a really hard or hot day. Similar is the rainbow, which I believe to be music. Music is proof that God knows life will be hard and that we all need a hug.

I once listened to New Slang on repeat for 2 months in my car. I remember it was really warm but I was freezing inside and I needed a hug. The Corolla became a red bubble of protection. The song began to feel like home when I felt like I didn't have one anymore. Still to this day that song is soothing, like having my mother stroke my hair. 

My first heartfelt foray into online communication was AIM, where of course buried in your profile you would list the song lyric that best summed up your teenage emotional state at that very moment. You could learn more from someone's profile lyrics than you ever could by actually chatting with them. Maybe my generation is wired this way. Maybe we're not alone. Maybe that's why the heartthrob plays guitar in a grassy spot under a tree or why we sent drummer boys to the battlefield. 

So I'm grateful for music probably above nearly everything else and I thought maybe music would like to hear that said out loud after I've hit repeat for the 50th time.