Lawyerish

Fade to Pink

Our baby went a bit orange on us, so she and I spent a fun-filled 24 hours or so in the NICU for phototherapy to lower her bilirubin levels.  Going back to the hospital definitely wasn't something we'd planned on, but it wasn't as terrible as it could have been, since they had a room with a cot and a shower so I could sleep between overnight feedings and I was able to keep nursing her on schedule (and as a bonus, one of the nighttime nurses was also a lactation consultant, and she taught me how to make Felicity a more efficient eater, which has made our lives much easier already).

See how she's sort of Oompah Loompah-like here?  (Yet still, let's be honest, exceedingly cute).

Despite the relative mildness of the whole situation, I will fully cop to having stood at her isolette sobbing when I first saw her in there with the wee shades on, glowing purple under the UV lights.  I felt like a giant ass, because as NICU situations go, a little jaundice is so not a big deal, and we only had to be there one night.  And as it was, Felicity looked like a HOSS next to all those tiny preemies (we were in the "Step-Down" room, which is for the babies who are soon to be discharged, but even so she was like Monster Baby in comparison). 

Nevertheless, we like our baby at home and easily within snuggling distance, especially since Grammie and Granddad came all this way to spend time with her.

I'm dying -- seriously DYING -- to write the damn birth story already.  I will try!  I'll get started on it!  Just as soon as I stop kissing this face long enough to type it out.

(Blessedly pink again, save for the orange stripe over her eyes from the shade thingies.)

Baby Gazing

I want to write the birth story before some kind of amnesia-inducing hormones come in and erase the abject horror of it (I may be overselling here), but there has been so little TIME.  Where do the hours go? 

In brief, we're doing well.  Yes, we're sleep-deprived, but it's tough to complain when this face is the culprit:

Felicity has used her air-raid siren cries -- truly, she could blow the doors off a small car with these lungs -- to let us know that she does not enjoy sponge baths, diaper changes, nudity of any kind (on her part, at least), having clothes put on or taken off, an insufficient swaddle, or anyone in a five-mile radius sleeping between the hours of 10pm and 5am.

She does eat pretty well, although she has this rather hilarious approach to nursing wherein she lets out a high-pitched squeal to let the neighborhood know she's ready for meal time, then does this ecstatic head-wagging/snuffling thing as she approaches the food source, then for no apparent reason shouts at top volume for about ten minutes while punching my boob and thrashing around, and finally settles in for the duration.  About half an hour later, she goes boneless in a milk stupor and sleeps it off for a few hours.

My parents are here, and thank God for that.  They've been doing everything we don't have the time or energy to do, and more.  I am getting a little panicky about how quickly our little household is going to fall to pieces when they leave on Monday.

Physically, by the way, I am feeling pretty good considering the high speed car wreck-level trauma that my body went through a mere five days ago.  I am looking forward to seeing this weird, deflated belly go down further (current size: approx. five months pregnant) and there is more recovery time needed in the undercarriage area, plus my back and hips feel like they were torn apart by wild animals and put back together all wrong -- but all things considered, I am pretty satisfied that I remain ambulatory.  Shew. 

So I'll be back soon, y'all.  Thanks for all of your heartfelt congratulations and well wishes.  I love the Internet.

(More pics on Flickr...)

Well! That Happened.

Have I got a story for y'all.

Felicity Jean was born on Friday, March 12, at 8:36 pm, weighing 7 lbs, 7 oz and 20 inches long.  She's pretty much the most perfect thing in the world, of course.  We think she has Joe's eyes and nose, my mouth, chin and head and hair of indeterminate color (it might be reddish?  maybe?).  Her lungs definitely work.

I'll post a birth story when the world isn't spinning from ridiculous, giddy new-parent love and janky hormones and post-labor pain/gore and total lack of sleep.  It's something else -- her arrival involved high doses of Pitocin and an epidural that came too late and, uh, didn't really work.  But a few huffs of her little head and all is forgiven, if not forgotten.

(OH MY GOD, YOU GUYS, THE EPIDURAL DID NOT WORK).

Flickr is being a pain in my butt, so this will have to do for now. 

You Might Be Sorry You Asked

A few of you asked about more details on Montessori, and I feel like it's the sort of thing that I'm probably going to describe very poorly and inexpertly, but I'll give it a shot.

The first and best thing I can do is tell you to check out this book.  It's well-written -- not pedantic in the least -- and filled with great, colorful photos, and it's chock-full of ways to implement Montessori methods at home.  And even if you're not into doing a whole "method" (it sounds so strict and rule-y to call it that, even though it's not), you'll find tons of great ideas of things to do with your kid at different ages and stages and ways to stimulate (ugh, I hate that word; it makes me think of electroshock) their growing minds and all that jazz.

And for an intro to Montessori theory and methods, my mom recommended this website, which encapsulates the basics nicely, although some of them come out sounding a little sterile. 

Some of the highlights, to sum up in my own rambling way, are that Montessori encourages self-sufficiency and independence, allows a child to learn at his/her own pace, promotes confidence by having children teach one another tasks that they've mastered, and combines practical life skills (from dressing oneself to sewing a button on to washing dishes, as Ris mentioned) with building blocks for language, reading, writing, math, science, etc (but in an abstract way -- like the mathy stuff doesn't involve sitting and doing time tables; it's more game- or puzzle-like and conceptual, where the child is learning complex ideas by doing something concrete and...child-appropriate, I guess).

A Montessori classroom usually is divided into sections for Practical Life, Sensorial and sometimes a third area such as Language.  (In my kindergarten, the sensorial part was carpeted and the practical life had a linoleum floor, so that's always how I think of it although of course not all rooms are like that.)  Everything is child-sized and child-friendly (low hooks for coats, etc) and the room is organized with open shelving, so that kids can choose whatever activity they want to do without adult help.  There are low tables and chairs as well as mats for the floor, so a child can put a mat on the floor and that will be his workspace, or he can sit at a table and work (and afterward, the child always puts his activity away, back on the shelf in its proper place, and rolls up the mat and puts it in the mat bin). 

There's also usually a reading corner or nook with low bookshelves and pillows on the floor.  Plus there's a circle or oval of tape on the floor of the classroom for "line time", which begins with a "line time" song and involves gathering the kids around the circle/oval to sing and have story time and sometimes to introduce a new "unit", like a theme week about Lunar New Year or Mexico or Thanksgiving (there's often an international bent to Montessori; kids spend a lot of time with maps and learn about other countries and cultures and stuff).

A lot of the activities are very methodical -- like there will be a tray with a bowl holding different-colored marbles and a couple of smaller bowls plus a spoon, and the child will use the spoon to sort the marbles into the smaller bowls by color (or a younger child would use her fingers if she's not spoon-ready yet).  Which sounds intensely boring, but it teaches, I don't know, a bunch of stuff at once, and you'd be amazed how absorbed a 3-year old can get in that.  There are lots of wooden blocks and natural-type materials, as opposed to things that light up and make noise. 

There are child-sized easels and sinks in the Practical Life area, and one of the activities is actually hand-washing, where the child takes a ceramic jug, fills it with water, brings it to a special little stand with a big bowl on it, pours the water in, washes her hands with soap, rinses them, dries them, then takes the bowl with the sudsy water and dumps it out in the sink, rinses it, dries it and returns it to the stand.  Again, this sounds ridiculous when I'm describing it (my kid's going to get something out of...hand-washing??) but it teaches motor skills and junk like that, I guess.  And the use of breakable materials is part of the theory that if you trust a child with those things (when they're ready, which is key of course -- you don't just hand a 2-year old a big glass pitcher and hope for the best), they'll be able to handle it and will treat it with the proper care.  And if the kid dumps the water all over the floor, the teacher might look over and say, "Whoops!  Looks like a bit of a spill.  The mop is over there!" and the kid will get the little child-sized mop and bucket and clean up the mess. 

(Does this sounds insufferable and boring?  I don't think I'm doing it justice, really.  And I hope you've gathered by now that I'm not one of those people who is going to try to get their kid to be the next Picasso or Earhart by age 2 -- I feel like when we delve into things like educational methods, it's easy for an outside observer to assume that the parent involved (i.e., me) is hell-bent on creating a superhuman child and is going to bring flash cards of Swahili to the delivery room to ensure an early multilingual start.  It just happens that Montessori is one area that I can get excitable about because I grew up with it and I think it -- and many other pedagogies -- have lots of great ideas to draw from both for parenting and schooling.  If...that makes any sense.  Nevertheless, I press on!)

ANYWAY, at home you can do all sorts of things to put these same theories into practice.  For infants, the "Amazing Child" book linked above recommends things that engage all of the baby's senses, like touching her cheek with different types of fabric or giving her different things to smell or putting her in front of a low mirror to look at herself (not exactly rocket science, I realize).  The book talks about giving the baby wooden toys and things made out of natural or natural-ish materials (or even just handing them household items -- the old wooden spoon and a pan type thing).  It's also big on taking the baby outside as much as possible, narrating what you see and introducing her to nature early on.  Actually, the narrating thing is big throughout -- starting from the very beginning, you talk to the baby about what you're doing and seeing and this helps with bonding, language development, yadda yadda.  Again, these are things people probably do anyway, so it sounds kind of obvious.

For older babies and toddlers, they recommend placing toys on low, open shelves (like in the classroom) so that she can retrieve what she wants (and put it back when she's done!).  Another idea is to put a bunch of random items of different shapes, sizes and textures from around the house and out in nature (a pasta grabber, a cotton ball, a smooth stone) in a canvas bag and have the child reach in and try to describe them or guess what they are or, if the child is pre-verbal, just to feel them and pull them out to see how the feel of something relates to what it looks like. 

As a kid gets older, you can involve him in things like food preparation (a child can cut up veggies for snack (not with, like, a Ginsu knife but with a child-friendly one on a child-sized cutting board while sitting at a table) or pour juice or spread peanut butter on celery) and housework (dusting, loading the dishwasher, setting the table, polishing silver) with the idea being that children want to do the "work" of adults and for them it is a type of play as well as being beneficial developmentally. 

Is this...making any sense at all?  I feel like I just described School and Parenting for the Anal-Retentive, and while Montessori does instill a certain level of care and concentration in a child, while also valuing neatness and order, it's all done very positively and in an upbeat way -- and there's plenty of creative stuff in there, too, and outdoor running-around time and all that good stuff; it's not like the kid doesn't get to be a kid, not at all.  It sounds sort of rigid or overly adult-like the way I'm writing this, but it's really not.  It's sort of like how a routine is freeing to a child, you know, like how children thrive with some sense of boundaries and predictability?  The structure of a Montessori classroom or environment is also freeing and encouraging like that. 

Personally, it's tough to say how much of who I am resulted from being brought up by a Montessori teacher and going to a Montessori kindergarten and how much was just who I was to start out with.  There's no question that I dig a routine, I tackle tasks methodically, I clean up after myself, I have a lot of curiosity about other cultures and travel, and so on.  All of these things could have been how I was born, but in any event I think they were really ingrained in me by Montessori. 

Regardless, It's kind of amazing to me how vividly I remember my years in Montessori kindergarten (which were, I think, just when I was four and five, although it's possible I started the school at three) -- I can picture EXACTLY what my classroom looked like, what I used to do there, where certain activities were located, how my favorite teacher wore her hair, what the carpet in the Sensorial area felt like, how it felt to roll up a mat when I was done with an activity, what the grass smelled like on the big lawn outside.  Not to mention that our school had a pony -- a PONY -- and a really great playground. 

Obviously, it had a huge impact on me at the time and still does, which is why I just wrote about 20 pages about it and can't wait to pass on what I learned to my own daughter.

On Eating for Two

If any of you live in the tri-state area and have been looking for fresh pineapple, don't bother.  It's all in my fridge.  Some people think pineapple can encourage labor (something about the bromelain in it, or...I don't really know), so I've bought approximately 500 pounds of it and have been eating a cup or two at each meal.  Spicy food is also in heavy rotation on our dinner menu, whether ordered in or made at home (the slow cooker is especially good for a good vindaloo or curry or Cajun-spiced something-or-other).  And I have walked a total of ten miles this weekend (no exaggeration), which is actually a doctor-recommended activity (among, ahem, other things) to help move things along in the baby delivery department. 

Basically, we're doing everything we can (short of ingesting castor or cod liver oil, which is where I draw the line, because:  GROSS) to help biology do its thing.  Of course we know that the baby's going to show up in her own time, but at the very least it's better than sitting here staring at the walls and crabbing for things to hurry UP already (though, truth be told, there is a little of that coming from my general direction as well). 

This brings me to Alyce's question about food cravings and eating habits during pregnancy.

At the very beginning of this bodily adventure, I had an unstoppable craving for cherries -- white ones, to be specific (at least, they're called white cherries, although they're a pleasing yellow and red).  I ate loads of cherries for a week or two -- and they had to be ice-cold -- and then that was over and I don't remember, other than a passing fancy here and there for cheese or avocado (there was definitely a cheese-heavy phase in the early second trimester), having any more Must-Have-Right-Now-Or-ELSE moments. 

Throughout, I have been HUNGRY, that's for sure, in the same way that I am always hungry when I'm running a lot.  It's the type of hunger where you're minding your own business and suddenly, WHAM!  If you don't eat something within five minutes, you feel like you're going to go into multiple system failure.  I've made it a habit to always have a protein bar or similar within arm's reach at all times, and I make sure to eat something every two hours to avoid the dreaded blood sugar plunge of doom.  And, by the way, for the first trimester or so, my senses of smell and taste were amped up a great deal, so everything I ate seemed like a revelation, like a FLAVOR EXPLOSION, if you will.  That subsided by midway through, which was in part a blessing (at least in the case of the superhuman smell, which made me aware of odors I would rather not know about) although I was a bit sad to lose that head-exploding awesomeness that accompanied every meal.

I'm the type of person who can happily eat the same things from day to day (except for dinner), so my breakfasts and lunches haven't varied much and aren't all that different from my pre-pregnancy routine.  When I get up, I take my prenatal vitamins, which I learned early on MUST be taken with food or there are Unpleasant Consequences; so right away, I drink some water and eat a Balance Bar to keep everything settled.  Then I'll do my daily exercise, whether it's a walk, the gym, the Shred, my prenatal workout or just some stretching and whatnot.  After that I'll have a banana and/or cereal bar to fuel me through my commute. 

When I get into the office, I have my Second Breakfast of a Greek yogurt, often with some cereal mixed in (for fiber -- I cannot stress the importance of fiber enough) and more water (I am virtually always toting around a 1-liter Evian bottle or my Camelbak; I'd say on average I must drink at LEAST five liters of water a day and that, my friends, is a lot of peeing). 

My midmorning snack is usually an apple, which I think is one of the greatest pregnancy foods in the world.  This fall, it was the Honeycrisp that rekindled my love for the humble apple -- again, it had to be really cold and REALLY crispy -- and now that they're out of season I have gone back to Granny Smiths, which have the perfect tang and crunch for my needs.  I credit apples for providing me with sufficient roughage to keep things, you know, in order in my digestive tract; thankfully, I haven't suffered some of the grosser side effects of pregnancy in that arena.  If you know what I mean.

That tides me over til lunch, which is usually something carb-y (PB&J on whole grain bread, instant oatmeal (so easy to throw in my bag for an office lunch), hummus on a whole wheat wrap, etc), plus a snack pack of cottage cheese, some baby carrots, maybe a string cheese, and another apple (sometimes with peanut butter -- I try to keep a little jar of Skippy in my desk for protein hits). 

Especially at this point, when my stomach is compressed to about the size of a dime, I can't eat that much at once unless I want to have heartburn so bad it makes my eyes water, so I'll stretch my lunch stuff out through the afternoon, which also wards off the vending machine snackies (although from time to time I'll still hit the machines if I've run out of lunch before 4 or 5pm -- usually I go for the Fig Newtons or a granola bar, although at times Cheez-Its are still ever so satsifying and a crumb cake or two may have made its way into my belly over the months). 

Dinner is where we have the most menu variety, especially since Christmas with the arrival of the slow cooker.  During the fall, we ate a TON of salads (our Big Salad usually consists of baby spinach, grape tomatoes, carrots, corn, peas, chickpeas, olives, feta, hearts of palm and balsamic vinaigrette), but in winter that's not so thrilling to come home to, so I just try to add veggies or a side salad to whatever warm and comfort-y thing we're having.  And we ALWAYS have dessert, whether it's brownies or ice cream sandwiches (the ones from Whole Foods are SO good) or some special thing I've whipped up over the weekend. 

(As a side note:  fruit is not a dessert in my book; it can be a COMPONENT of dessert, but not the dessert itself.  At least for adults; I do plan to dupe my child into thinking that fruit is a treat.  And then after she's in bed I'll bust out the brownies.  Bwah ha ha!  Oh, I kid.  Sort of.)

I'd say, in general, that pregnancy has made me a bit more conscientious about the nutritional properties of what I'm taking in, in the sense that, for example, I'll think to myself that I haven't had a leafy green veggie in a few days so I need to have a salad or heat up some frozen spinach to go with whatever main dish is on deck, and I've definitely amped up my dairy intake to kowtow to the baby's calcium requirements.  

The thing is, I haven't really FELT like eating much junk food (even the relatively healthy stuff I'd eat before, like pretzels or Wheat Thins); for a while toward the beginning I was definitely putting away a lot of starchy foods, including snacks, which seemed to help keep The Yuck at bay, but once I was past that stage (and after the doctor eyebrow-raised at my early weight gain), I found that I really only WANTED to eat veggies and fruit and lean protein and dairy (and, yes, protein/energy bars, which are something of a crutch but awfully convenient and do keep me full for a decent amount of time between meals).  But I also haven't stopped my long-standing habit of treating myself on a regular basis (everything in moderation, etc).  Plus the stuff I cook for dinner isn't chosen for being light by any means (see:  Pioneer Woman's meatloaf, OH MY GOD) but more for flavor, variety, balance, blah blah blah. 

Really, on the whole -- aside from the verboten foods that I've had to forego, like tasty, tasty medium-rare cheeseburgers (which will be my first meal when we come home from the hospital, I'm telling you right now) -- my eating habits are pretty darn close to what they were before.  I think I became a more conscious eater when I started distance running years ago, and while I've never been one to subsist on flaxseed and agave nectar (not that there's anything wrong with those things, but you know what I'm saying), I've always been reasonably aware of food choices, so pregnancy probably took that up a notch but wasn't a sea change for me.

My GOD, did I really just spend that much time and space on my day-to-day eating habits?  Sorry, Alyce, that was probably way more than you wanted to know! 

We'll wrap up with 36- and 37-week belly shots.  The latter was taken with my shirt down because I think the unclothed belly is starting to push the bounds of decency.  Or, I don't, know perhaps the contrast actually helps you see it better.  Something. 

Next up: your Montessori questions, answered!  And coming soon, a Lawyerish guide to New York City.

Next Steps

Somewhere along the way, things turned a corner and I am now incapable of walking like a normal human being.  Instead, I shuffle, I lurch, I waddle, I stagger.  I clutch the railings and two-foot each stair on my descent into the subway stations.  It looks like I am walking with my shoelaces tied together and/or am suffering from dire intestinal misfortune.

In part, it's the sciatica, which continues to send searing pain down my leg at unpredictable intervals; but it's also the density and protrusion of the belly, which my relatively narrow hips are no longer able to accommodate or compensate for.  This results in my joints being compressed and restricted, which in turn causes my zombie/Frankenstein/invalid-style gait.  I can assure you, it's extremely attractive.  Passersby and fellow commuters look at me with a mixture of pity and horror, as if to say, "Gosh, you look so uncomfortable, you poor thing -- just please don't have your baby on my foot." 

And yet, my doctor says that the baby is normal-sized and that my belly is "small" (God bless her).  My weight has plateaued, and thus far I have avoided the dreaded cankle.  I've also started slowly progressing toward physical signs of the baby's arrival:  when walking around -- and sometimes just while sitting down -- I get irregular, yet unmistakable, contractions and, thanks to the wonders of the internal exam, we now know that there is dilation and effacement happening in places people don't talk about at parties.  Believe me, we are doing everything we can to encourage these things to continue.  I am not above trying every old wives' tale in the book to get this kid moving toward the light.

As for my homework assignments, next I shall tackle Alyce and Debbie in the UK's questions about post-baby plans vis-a-vis child care and, further down the line, preschools. 

I am fortunate to have an employer with a generous parental leave policy (relatively speaking -- it's not, like, Denmark- or Canada-level generous, but for the US it's about as good as you can get), so I will be able to take several months off after the baby is born. 

My goals for maternity leave are fairly modest -- shower on what I hope is a daily basis, meet up with friends for coffee and walks in the park with our infants, answer emails and phone calls within a reasonable amount of time, get back to running (I have some 4-milers and 10Ks on the calendar for May and June, which I think won't be TOO ambitious), take a handful of those geeky "mommy and me" classes (which are clearly more for mommy since the baby will be not much more interactive than a loaf of bread for a good while), keep the baby alive, that sort of thing. 

I honestly have no idea whether I will take to being at home with the baby like a fish to water, or if I'm going to be chewing the walls after a few weeks.  I think it helps that we're in the city, and the weather will (eventually) be nice during my leave, so getting out of the house won't involve all that much agita -- I can walk around Central Park or to a museum or cafe or library whenever I need air or want to feel connected to the outside world, and I have friends in the neighborhood to keep me company.  Admittedly, it may take me a while to get used to toting around a BABY and all her accoutrements when I pop out to the corner Duane Reade, but I'm hoping I will be able to make it happen without everything being a huge production.  Anyway, I am curious to see what my reaction is to the whole thing, since it's such a change from my daily routine now.

Once my leave is up, I plan to go back to work.  A reduced schedule may be an option -- like four days a week in the office instead of five.  That's something I'll have to figure out with my higher-ups, and what will happen will depend on a number of factors outside of my control right now.   

At that point, it appears that we'll be hiring a nanny.  Especially when I'm transitioning back to a work routine, it seems like daycare would build a lot more stress into our day than it would take away because of the schedules of the providers near us.  Each morning, Joe or I would have to get ourselves AND the baby ready and out the door by 7:30 to drop her off.  On the back end, one of us would have to be at the daycare by 6pm on the dot to pick her up, which may not be realistic every single day, and then there would be the wild tear of getting the baby home, walking the dog, feeding the baby, feeding the dog, feeding ourselves, doing a bedtime routine, and collapsing onto the couch.  It sounds very harried to me and not ideal for any of us.

On the other hand, I've always been a little skittish of the whole nanny situation.  Not because I think that there is no one on earth who can properly care for my preshus baybee, but because it weirds me out to be An Employer and in many ways it's just foreign to me because it wasn't something I grew up with or around. 

Mainly, I fret about how uncomfortable it might be to give someone direction about how I want things done, or to correct them if they're doing something I'd rather they didn't, or to deal with pay issues and negotiations.  Of course, we've done these things with our dog walker and our dog sitter and haven't had any problems and in fact -- although we've had some clunkers in the past -- we have found really wonderful people whom we trust completely with Miles.  Not that a dog walker is QUITE the same as a nanny, but you know what I mean.  So it's fairly likely that I am blowing these things out of proportion in my mind simply because they're unfamiliar.  The fact is, most parents I know who have sitters or nannies have wonderfully positive working relationships with them, so the little things that crop up from time to time are not that big of a deal.

Down the road, when our kid hits two years old, we'll be entering the fray of the preschool world, which in this city is not all that different from the college application process.  We've given it some thought, but haven't exhaustively researched the issue since we have a fair amount of time.  Since I was Montessori-educated (and my mom taught Montessori for 25 years), I have a preference for that philosophy; but I'm open to learning about other methods and pedagogies and seeing what works for our child, so we'll probably apply to a wide swath of programs to ensure that we have options (or at least, uh, ONE option, at the end of the day).  That said, as dorky as it sounds, I plan to use a lot of Montessori methods at home so she'll be getting that influence one way or another.

Of course, any or all of these plans may change given all sorts of different possible circumstances and based on how Joe and I feel about things as we go.  I want to keep an open mind in all directions while staying realistic about what our needs are as a family and being cognizant of what works best for us.  And all that jazz.

(Belly picture for 36 weeks next time!) 

Gearhead

Per Alyce's suggestion, here's a list of some of our baby gear, and as -R- noted I'll do an update once the baby is here and we've figured out what works and what we hate with the fire of a thousand suns.  Also, at HeatherM's request I am linking some of our favorite baby-stuff stores here in NYC that also have online shopping so you can join in the fun from home! 

-- As I mentioned before, we got an UppaBaby Vista stroller.  I did a LOT of stewing over stroller choices before we settled on the Vista.  Living in the city and not having a car, the stroller is a key part of our Baby Support Equipment (BSE) arsenal.  We're planning to spend a great deal of time in Central Park and around the neighborhood with the kid, so we needed something that would ride smoothly over uneven sidewalks and be able to go off-road.  We also wanted something that had both a bassinet and a seat option, plus carseat compatibility.  Our stroller needed to be able to fold up easily for storage so it wouldn't dominate our apartment. 

For a while, we were pretty sure we would get a Bugaboo Cameleon.  That is pretty much THE stroller of choice in our neighborhood and I've never heard anyone say a negative thing about it (except that it's expensive).  It's sleek with rugged tires and user friendly features, and it's super maneuverable and smooth-riding. 

But then we looked at the UppaBaby, which is relatively new to the market, and it seemed to have a lot to offer, too.  The tires are foam-filled rather than air-pumped, so they won't go flat.  The suspension is well-made for a velvety ride.  It comes with both a bassinet and a seat, whereas the Bugaboo comes with fabric that you have to change on the frame yourself to create the seat or the bassinet.  The seat faces either way, reclines easily to several different positions, has an adjustable footrest, and sits a bit higher than many strollers (which, as a drawback, makes the Vista look REALLY big next to the Bugaboo, but the upside is that your baby is closer to you and further from the ground).  The basket under the seat is capacious -- plenty of room for a diaper bag and a day's worth of shopping.  It has a big sun canopy with UV protection on both the bassinet and the seat.  And it folds up (and unfolds) with one easy move.  

All that for several hundred bucks less than the Bugaboo.  And, if you care about such things, it's American-designed and made, which is kind of nice in the current economy.  Sold! 

(The link to the stroller takes you to the site for Planet Kids, which is where we got ours.  It's a GREAT baby and kids' store with a couple of locations in NYC and an extensive website.  The salespeople there are extremely helpful and knowledgeable, and they spent a lot of time taking us through the features and relative merits of the Bugaboo and the Vista as well as several carseat options.  They also arranged to have the stroller delivered to us for FREE.)

We also have a Quinny Zapp stroller, which folds up teeny tiny and I think will be good for travel when she's bigger -- you can use it for a smaller infant, but only with a carseat as the seat doesn't recline and there's no bassinet.  We have found it VERY difficult to collapse and unfold -- when we got it out to practice, it took us a good twenty minutes of grunting and sweating to fold it back up.

-- Our carseat is a Chicco Keyfit 30, which we chose because it works with the Vista and, out of the three compatible options, it was the lightest and will last the longest based on the size and weight maxes.  I also thought it looked cute. 

-- Carriers:  I feel like this is where we're going to end up with about five hundred different pieces of gear in our closet.  There are so MANY carriers and such a wide range of styles and functions and positions and user-friendliness among them.  To start out with, we got three different ones, based on the recommendations of various friends. 

First, the Ergo Organic Baby Carrier plus infant insert (that link takes you to Albee Baby, another very well-stocked NYC store with a comprehensive website).  I've heard lots of raves about the Ergo, especially how comfy it is for the parent (whereas I have gotten many tips that the Bjorn killed people's backs).  My only concern with the Ergo is that it does appear...well, a bit complex, so there may be a learning curve at first.  We've watched the instructional video and it SEEMS simple enough, but there are a lot of straps and adjustments and clips, and of course when you actually use it there is also a squirming BABY involved.  I'm hoping it will become intuitive quickly without anyone dropping the baby on her head while trying to get her in there and settled.

Second, for its utter simplicity, we got the Serene Sling by Balboa Baby.  It's ONE piece of fabric -- no rings or clips and no wrapping required.  It's a comfy, soft knit and you just stick the baby in there and slip it over your head and one shoulder, and off you go.  The baby can be positioned a few different ways as she develops and according to the package it is great for discreet nursing.  My only beef with this was that we followed the sizing directions and bought a Medium (they say to follow your t-shirt size), but when we got it home and tried it on, it didn't even come down past our necks.  So Joe took it back and got I think an XL, which seems like it would be too big for us but in fact appears to be just right -- maybe because of our height or longish torsos or his manly pecs?  Anyway, I am hoping this is the sling for us; otherwise, I've also heard very good things about the New Native sling and would give that a whirl next. 

And finally, I am perhaps the most excited about our mei tai.  It is SO CUTE (I got a red dragon print on one side and a floral print on the other) and very easy to put on, and it seems comfortable to boot.   

-- Crib:  the Straight-Up Crib from Land of Nod.  I love the classic-yet-modern, streamlined look of this, and I assembled it in about ten minutes.  This is our crunchy-granola organic crib mattress.

-- Bouncy Seat:  The Baby Bjorn Organic Babysitter Balance.  I like this because it is basic and unobtrusive (for my own sanity, I didn't want anything that made noise, played music or vibrated), but looks comfy and has three reclining positions.  It also folds completely flat, so it stashes right into a closet when not in use.  We got it from Giggle, which is another of our favorite NY baby-stuff stores -- they seem to find the most attractive AND useful things and round them all up into one super-cute boutique, and their website is equally great and easily navigated. 

-- Play Mat:  Also from Giggle, we got the Shangri-La Activity Play Mat.  It's SUPER soft and fuzzy on one side and has bold black-and-white design on the other, and comes with a bunch of toys that attach to the soft arches plus some tummy-time toys (including one with a mirror) that velcro to the mat itself.  It seems like a great variety of textures, colors and shapes to keep the baby entertained (hell, WE were entertained just putting it together), plus you can easily add or change the hanging toys.  It also stores well; the arches lie flat and you can wrap them in the mat and stow them in a bench or closet. 

-- Booster Seat:  We won't need this for quite a while, but instead of a high chair that would have taken up half of our kitchen, we got the Phil & Ted's Me Too Chair to clamp onto the table when she's ready for solids.  It folds completely flat so I'm hoping will be perfect for travel or restaurant outings, too. 

-- Baby Bath:  Since we have ZERO room for a full-sized baby tub and we plan to bathe her in the sink as long as possible rather than crouching over our bathtub, we were psyched to run across the Puj Tub, which is another brilliant product of Scandinavian design and engineering.  It's basically a piece of waterproof foam that folds into this little mini-bath and goes in either your bathroom or kitchen sink and then lays or hangs flat for drying and storage.  Genius!  It's also cheap ($40). 

-- Diaper Bag:  We have the JJ Cole System Bag (in gray and green).  It's compact, comes with a fold-up changing pad and has lots of convenient pockets and compartments.  It's also reasonably gender-neutral, since I didn't think Joe would want to walk around with a big floral tote all the time (and neither would I, frankly). 

Both of us will also use bags that we already have -- Joe has a Banana Republic messenger-style canvas bag he got at least 8 years ago that has gone EVERYWHERE with us (it's been to Vietnam, Italy, Costa Rica, Spain, Montreal, Iowa, Georgia, Central Park...you get the idea) and will serve nicely as a Dad-bag, and I have my Ogio messenger-style bag (the Road Trip) that's large and nicely padded on the inside so should be sufficiently cushioned for me to haul my Rebel DSLR with us for the necessary baby-paparazzi action (although if it turns out not to be ideal, I will soon be in the market for some kind of camera/diaper bag combo, so if you have any leads on that, let me know). 

Those are pretty much the major pieces of BSE that we've got!  I'm hoping the promise of all this cool stuff will entice this child to come on out SOON.  (Full term (37 weeks) in a week!  That's next weeeeeeeeeek!)  Mama's sciatica needs some RELIEF.

Finally, just for Dianna: 

Pleased to Meetcha

Next up, we have Debbie's request for a little biographical info.  This post is probably going to be overly linky, but I figured I'd give you some archive stuff to read if you're so inclined. 

I was born in the Midwest, but I grew up and went all the way through high school in a small town in Georgia, where we moved just before I started first grade.  I did not exactly fit right in, to put it mildly (among other things, I was downright TERRIFIED of my teachers), but early in my first grade year I did meet Allison, who remains my best friend to this day (even though she has the audacity not to live right next door to me, as she SHOULD).  Allison probably sacrificed a lifetime of popularity to be my friend, as I was, well, a gigantic dork.  We were kindred spirits, though, in our love of unicorns, rainbows, "Annie", spying (inspired by Harriet the Spy) and Little House (more the books than the TV series, because we were purists).  We also engaged in light criminal activity on one occasion in fourth grade, in an attempt to make our pioneer reenactments more authentic.

By junior high, I decided to take nerdiness to another level and not only attended Space Camp, but was unofficially voted to be the ugliest girl there.  (Admittedly, I was not the cutest thing around.)  Perhaps to my benefit, I attended the all-girls public junior high that my town had established for seventh and eighth grades, where we were taught useful life skills such as makeup application.  Meanwhile, Allison began to experience some anger issues during adolescence, which led to some memorable moments (I still go back and read that post from time to time, and it always makes me bust a gut laughing.  But then, I am easily amused). 

Things didn't improve greatly in high school.  I went on precisely two dates in all four years and continued to be generally unpopular, if not completely marginalized.  This was partly my own fault, as I was focused on (a) becoming valedictorian and (b) spending about 100 hours a week in a ballet studio.  Although I could have become a professional ballet dancer, my practical side won out and I went to college instead.  It's one of those things I sort of regret, since I loved dancing so passionately and then just...gave it up in favor of taking a much more mainstream path in life, but then I figure that I wouldn't have the life I have now if I'd chosen differently, so there's no sense dwelling on decisions past. 

After college, I decided to go to law school either because I didn't really know what else to do or because of a Guatemalan gypsy curse that had been placed on my father before I was born.  Regardless, it turned out well enough, since I met my husband Joe after I became a full-time law firm associate.  We got married in 2003, and shortly thereafter welcomed a rather adorable Italian greyhound puppy into our lives (my rescued cat was grandfathered into the marriage, much to Joe's chagrin).

After practicing law for a little while, I took some time away from work to try to pursue acting.  Aaaaand then I went back to practicing law.  In 2005 and 2006, I ran the New York City Marathon, which was an amazing and excruciating experience that I'm not sure I'll ever repeat -- having proven that I CAN run 26.2 miles all at once, I'm happy sticking to recreational running, with the occasional half-marathons and 10Ks thrown in for kicks.

In the fall of 2006, my husband and I decided -- because it seemed like a great idea at the time and I wasn't terribly interested in getting pregnant -- to adopt a child from Vietnam.  We'd been to Vietnam before and fell in love with it, and the adoption seemed...well, it just seemed like the right thing for us.  We went through the usual REAMS of paperwork, and then we waited.  And waited.  And WAITED. 

A year after we got on the waiting list (which was about seven months after we'd started the process, so more than a year and a half total of WAITING), we received a referral of an 8-month old baby girl.  We fell in love with her and readied her nursery and had baby showers and did everything that excited, expectant parents do to prepare to welcome their child home.  A few months later, when we thought we were going to be traveling soon to bring her home from Vietnam, we received a devastating call:  our agency had discovered that she had suffered a cerebral hemorrhage and had severe motor, cognitive and developmental impairment as a result.  We made the agonizing decision, after consulting with lots of expert-types in this area based on the new medical information we had, to withdraw from her adoption. 

We were told, even though the Vietnam adoption program was days away from shutting down, that because of our exceptional circumstances we would be permitted to proceed with a second referral.  In September 2008, we received a referral for another beautiful baby girl.  Although we were still grieving the loss of the first child, we felt that perhaps there was a greater reason for this turn of events, and we grew excited to bring this little girl home.  But then, a few months into the pre-travel process, we were informed that the Vietnamese government had changed its position on second referrals, and we (along with other families who'd had similar terrible things happen with their initial referral) would not be allowed to complete our adoption.  We spent months fighting this and advocating for ourselves and for the baby we felt was our daughter.  Ultimately, despite negotiations between the US and Vietnamese governments on our behalf, the decision not to allow second referrals was made final in February 2009, and our adoption "journey" was over.

Pretty much immediately thereafter, we decided to try to have a kid the old-fashioned way, and here we are, a year later, just weeks away from welcoming our daughter into the world.  And that's...it?  I guess?  Or those are some highlights, anyway. 

To close, some pictures of our nursery, as requested (and one of Miles, for good measure):

Training Day

Next up, we have livlaugheat's question about preparing for a half-marathon.  Which, as I sit here with SCREAMING back pain that causes me to hobble around like I'm about a million years old, somehow seems laughable, that I would have anything at all to say about such a thing. 

(I think it's my piriformis muscle, since it's concentrated deep in my right gluteal area and causes the most unbelievable, stabbing, shooting, head-spinning PAIN with every step I take.  I don't know if it's how the baby is situated or my hauling around so much extra weight or what, but...OW.  Oddly enough it's a fairly common injury in distance runners, too, and one that I've encountered in the past myself.  Except right now it's so, so much worse than I've ever had from running.  Do you think they'll offer to induce me early if I tell them I CAN'T WALK due to CRIPPLING BUTT PAIN?)

So!  Half marathons.  Actually, this advice pertains to pretty much any running race, from 5Ks on up (except, perhaps, ultramarathons, since I have never come close to attempting one of those and do not plan to in this lifetime -- I think if you have to sleep as part of a race, it's a tad too long). 

As with everything else, I'd love to hear from others who agree or disagree with these tidbits, because my way might be totally stupid and not for everyone: 

Should you carry a cell phone?  Not during the race, no.  Personally, I cannot stand to have ANY extra stuff on my person beyond my clothing, my shoes, my iPod, an Amphipodwith gummy bears (more on that in a minute), my race number and my running watch, and I think a cell phone would be annoyingly bulky to carry.  Although I suppose if you have an iPhone that doubles as your iPod and has a belt clip, that would be okay.   

That said, I have seen plenty of people running with cell phones on their hip or even talking on the phone while running.  It seems like an unnecessary distraction to me.  If someone's going to come watch you run, have them station themselves at a specific mile and on a designated side of the course.  If you miss them, it's not the end of the world (though I always find it a huge boost to see Joe on the sidelines looking for me -- I usually don't stop, just throw a wave and keep on truckin', but that little moment is still great for morale).  And for AFTER the race, if you need a phone to coordinate a pick-up, then you can pack your cell phone in the bag that you check prior to the race. 

(Side note:  Some races don't allow music players/headphones and are militant about enforcing that rule, so check ahead of time and train accordingly.  I, for one, would probably not make it to the finish line without my running playlist blaring into my ears, but it would be even worse to expect to be able to use music and then have to race without.  The horror.)

Checking a bag.  I am fortunate to live near the park, where most of my races are, so I usually just trot over to the start with everything I need on me (my apartment key and sometimes a $20 bill or a Metrocard in the key pocket of my shorts or in an Amphipod, linked above, which is as streamlined and light as you can get to cram your must-have stuff into).  But for big runs like the marathon, or half-marathons in other boroughs, I'll check a bag with a Gatorade, my phone, a Balance Bar, and an extra shirt if I'm going to be a sweatbag afterward or extra layers if it's chilly.  Sometimes races have rules about what kind of bag you can check, like it has to be a clear plastic bag or a bag they give you when you pick up your packet and number, so again, check beforehand.  Either way, you'll get a sticker or some kind of tag for your bag corresponding to your bib number.

The important thing there is to leave extra time before the start to deal with the bag check.  Usually it's located close to the starting line, but sometimes it's a decent walk away, and you don't want to feel rushed or stressed right before the race starts. 

I usually like to arrive at the race about 15 minutes prior to the start.  That's assuming I DON'T have a bag to check or anything to do before the race.  If you think you're going to need some time in the Port-O-John (which ALWAYS involves waiting in a line), or if you have to check a bag or need to pick up your race number, then get there at least ten minutes earlier.  A lot of races require you to be in the starting corrals by ten minutes prior to the start time and I find that time is crucial to find a decent spot in the lineup, do some light stretching and get my watch and iPod keyed up.  I HATE having to sprint to the start or getting there after they've closed the corrals, which means you have to go allllll the way to the back of the line. 

Water stations.  During the race, as you get to a hydration stop and you DO want water or Gatorade, skip the initial bottleneck at the front of the table, keep jogging to the outside of all the people who are jammed up there (but stay to the left rather than running with those who are passing by the station), and grab a drink where it's less crowded at the back of the table.  Then stay to the left, again out of the stream of runners who aren't grabbing water.  You shouldn't have elbowing problems this way, although sometimes people are just scrappy or the hydration stops are small, in which case it's every person for themselves.  Usually people are decently civil about it, though. 

If you need to take walk breaks -- which is completely cool; you'll see TONS of people walking at various times during the race, so never be afraid to walk or even incorporate regular walking intervals into your run -- the drink stops are the perfect time to do that.  Take your time getting a cup, walk while you drink, then once you've tossed your cup start a slow jog and ramp up to race pace again as you ease back into the pack.  On the other hand, if you don't want to break stride, then only reduce speed to a fast jog, then hold the cup by pinching the top so it doesn't spill as much, take some gulps and race on. 

Food/gels.  I think that running gels are of the devil.  I've never found one that didn't make me want to rip my tongue out, both from the taste and from the lingering icky sweetness that seems to glue your mouth together.  Some of them also make my stomach hurt.  So instead of gels, I carry a baggie of gummy bears in my Amphipod for anything longer than a 10K; they're delicious, easy to chew and they give me a boost of sugar that carries me through the last few miles.  Twizzlers Nibs also work for me.

But I am clearly a minority here, as most people swear by them.  The key is to find what works for you well before race day, during your long training runs.  You may find you love the ones with caffeine in them, or you like the gummy shots rather than the straight gels, or you can only stomach them if you take them with water.  Of course, you'll also want to choose your night-before dinner and your day-of breakfast wisely and have road-tested them beforehand, too.  (I'm a fan of some form of chicken and pasta -- with a sauce that isn't too sodium-packed -- the night before and Balance Bars with water or Gatorade the morning of).

Bathroom, uh, issues.  Stopping to use the john in the middle of a race -- along with walking or pulling to the side to stretch a cramp -- is common and normal.  Some people don't like to deal with the lines before a race so they save their potty break for mid-race (usually there are short lines at the on-course port-os, but it's nothing like the endless pre-race queue).  Some people just tend to have to pee (or more) in a race.  It's not a big deal.  I know a lot of people fear having a Major Intestinal Meltdown in the middle of a run, but I think unless you decided to go for some vindaloo and ten beers the night before, it's not likely to happen.  And you'll know what your peeing and digestive needs will be before race day, based on your long runs. 

I think the best insurance against having a problem is to know your pace and stick with it -- don't go out too fast or push beyond what you've trained for.  Some stomach cramping, by the way, is pretty normal; I tend to get a bit of abdominal pain whhen I run longer than 10 miles, but it's a temporary discomfort and doesn't...lead to anything.  Regardless, it never hurts to know at what miles there will be bathrooms so you can be mentally prepared.  They should show them on the course map on the race website.

Not going out too fast is really key to the whole operation, actually.  It's so easy at the beginning to get caught up in the collective energy of the pack and blow past your normal pace, and to some extent that's good, so long as you can settle into your goal pace before too long.  Otherwise, by the time you hit mile 6 or 7, you may be hating life.  I'd much rather run moderately at the beginning and kick it out for the last couple of miles than be gasping for dear life by midway through.  You should know by then what your pace feels like, so your body will be able to find it; you just have to tune out everyone else's pace and the people passing by. 

Above all, of course, have a great time -- it's a fantastic thing to run ANY race, and I happen to think half-marathons are the best of the long races, since they're not so long that you want to crawl to the side of the road and PERISH (as in the marathon, ugh) but they're long enough to make you feel like a complete badass for finishing.  Good luck and let me know how it goes!

To Lawyer or Not to Lawyer

Hooray!  I have homework assignments!  I will take them more or less in order of y'all's comments, and first up is PomJob's question about law school and becoming a lawyer -- pros and cons/advice.  Hoo boy, is this a topic on which I have many thoughts and opinions.  Here we go:

I think the first and best piece of advice I can offer -- and it seems painfully obvious, but I, for one, didn't consider it for even a moment when I blundered into law school -- is to find out what lawyers really do, day to day, and decide whether that's something you want to do. 

When I took the LSAT and wrote my earnest little essays on a stack of law school applications my senior year of college, I did not have the first clue what a day in the life of a practicing attorney might look like.  I'd read One-L and my brother was in law school at the time, so I sort of knew what the next three years would be like, but I had NO IDEA what would happen once I graduated.  I went into law school figuring that a law degree would be super-versatile, almost like an advanced liberal arts degree (ALERT: this is NOT THE CASE), and that a host of career options would present themselves to me once I had a JD from a good school (ALSO NOT THE CASE).  I would not recommend this approach. 

The ideal way to suss out the nitty-gritty of lawyering life would be to work in a law office of some kind, as a paralegal or in some similar capacity that puts you in close contact with the attorneys and exposes you to various practice areas. 

If that isn't feasible, I recommend talking to as many attorneys as you can and asking them about what they do in very specific terms -- what is their specialty area?  do they work in a big firm, a small firm, a legal department of a corporation, for the government, etc?  what is their day usually like?  what kinds of hours do they work?  do they enjoy what they do?  what about their practice do they like or not like?  what's their outside-of-work life like?  You get the idea.  And if you don't know any or many lawyers (aside from me, and I'm happy to answer these questions via email), you might consider contacting your undergraduate career office and see if they have alumni contacts in the legal field who would be willing to chat with you about what they do. 

The other utility to this little investigation is that it might help you get a sense of what areas of law and practice might interest you and also what type of employment you'll be interested in after graduating.  Top law schools tend to funnel graduates right into large, big-city firms, with smaller numbers going into judicial clerkships (and then usually to big firms), government work (mostly the DA and US attorney's offices) and public interest work, so it's extremely helpful, I think, to know if you don't want to do one of those things, or if you definitely DO.  

For example, I found that most people who wanted to do public interest work knew WELL before they went to law school that that was where they were headed; many already had experience in that area and from the moment they set foot in the law school building, they were working toward that goal, taking specific classes and making connections with certain professors and applying for internships and fellowships to work in public interest organizations.  This is true, to some degree, for criminal and government work as well. 

In short, law school may help you refine what you want to do, as will your experiences during the summers, but it's much more intense and compressed than college, and those three years aren't necessarily geared toward helping you figure out what your life goals are (which, again, I did not really grasp before I got there, and I did not find the career services people to be helpful at all in this regard.  I was fortunate to get more clarity from my summer law firm experience -- and, by the way, I like practicing about a million times more than I liked law school -- but it would have been better if I'd known more about what I might want to do going in).

I don't think you have to be a specific personality type to be a lawyer -- you'll find all kinds in this profession.  But I have learned that certain traits, whether they're innate or cultivated, are helpful to have, such as:  a high level of tolerance for dealing with difficult people, an affinity for unraveling complex problems and reasoning (even when the subject matter of them is not something you connect with or are terribly interested in), an ability to write clearly and argumentatively (yes, they teach this in law school, but it doesn't hurt to have some facility in that area to begin with), something north of a deathly aversion to public speaking (not all lawyers have to go to court and advocate, but even transactional attorneys need to talk to clients and make presentations and all -- and anyway, in law school you're forced to speak in front of large numbers of people), a high capacity for tedium (not that ALL legal work is tedious, by any means, but some of it is), and a desire to serve clients.

(Incidentally, a lot of lawyers are shy by nature, so that isn't a hindrance although it's something you have to overcome to some degree.  And I am incredibly conflict- and confrontation-averse yet have developed an ability to spar as needed -- sometimes it's really difficult, but often it's surprisingly fun.)

(Oh, and another thing I didn't appreciate before heading to law school was that law is a service industry.  On the pro side, this means you get to develop relationships with clients and help them solve problems and guide them through legal issues that may be totally foreign to them, which can be very rewarding.  On the con side, if you're someone who wants to be directing the show rather than being directed, this may wear on you).

Gosh, this all sounds terribly negative.  And I don't mean to be.  I just think you should really want it, and really KNOW that you want it (and what, specifically, you want) before diving in. 

But!  Here are some positives about practicing law: 

The pay and benefits (at least in private practice, although it's not like it's CRAZY money, especially for the first decade or more, and especially considering how much you have to pay to get there -- I just finished paying off my law school loans and I am about to have my ten-year law school reunion this spring, if that gives you any idea, and it's not like I own three homes and drive a Ferrari (or, uh, ANY car)). 

The people (as horrid as some lawyers can be, some of the best people I know and many of the best friends I have are from law school and work). 

The sense of power that knowing about the law and the legal system brings you (I don't mean power over other people, but more a personal kind of empowerment). 

The satisfaction that comes from a successful representation. 

The internal rewards that working really hard and tackling big challenges can bring. 

The opportunity to learn about all kinds of stuff that you never would have encountered otherwise (I've gotten to learn about all different kinds of businesses and of course legal topics, and through pro bono work have learned a great deal about immigration, refugees and human rights). 

The validation you can get from working with smart people and feeling like you add something to the conversation and to the work itself.

The chance to work out your aggressive side in dealing with adversaries.

The constant refining of skills and learning from others.

Oh, my, I hope that was not coma-inducing or incoherent.  I obviously have a lot to say on the matter.  Clearly, I have regrets about how I went about choosing law school, and sometimes I wish I'd followed my initial plan and become a psychologist.  But at the end of the day, I have had a good career so far and have gotten a tremendous amount of experience and gained all kinds of skills that will always serve me well, no matter where life and my career take me.  And, as I said, I've met lots of terrific people, including my husband, and I wouldn't trade that for the world.