Lawyerish

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!

What Can I Do For You?

People really need to stop saying to me, "Oh, you must be due any day now!"  This is the equivalent of the spectators who stand on the marathon course at mile 19 and yell, "You're almost there!" when you still have SEVEN #@*&%$ miles to GO. 

Yes, I'm about 85% of the way through this, but I still have MORE THAN A MONTH left at most (oh, please, please, please let it be less) and I'm learning with each passing day that this last 15% is designed to make you BEG for the pain of labor and delivery because it seems so infinitely preferable to waddling around with your lower back in flames and your belly entering a room five minutes before you do.

I made the mistake of standing in our kitchen barefoot for over an hour yesterday (hey, another pregnancy cliche accomplished!) while making red velvet whoopie pies and Ree's potatoes au gratin for our Valentine's Day feast (which also included brown sugar chicken from the slow cooker and a side of spinach).  This followed two days of working out AND walking all over creation for errands, church, friend-visiting, baby shopping (we have DIAPERS in the house now!  Diapers, people!  Do you know what this MEANS?), and my body was not pleased.  My feet felt like someone had taken sledgehammers to them and my back wrote me a strongly worded letter about wearing supportive shoes AT ALL TIMES. 

It seems that the addition of some forty pounds to my frame is beginning to cause some structural breakdown.  This belly is seriously dense and I just feel HEAVY on my feet.  I still don't feel all THAT big, but maybe my eyes and brain are being kind to me.  In any event, the "any day now" comments -- of which I have now received MANY (usually when I am wearing my winter coat, which is admittedly rather tent-like, but still) -- need to stop.

(By the way, the potatoes and the whoopie pies were totally worth the aching feet and back.  TOTALLY.)

I just looked back at this list, and we've already checked off everything on it!  And still there is much time left!  We've done the birthing class, the hospital tour, the doula hiring, the pediatrician selection, and the photo session; we've been to see the play and had two three-day weekends; and both "The Bachelor" and the Olympics are in full swing (speaking of which: quel quandary as to which to watch tonight; I am thinking Bachelor, because if I TiVo it, I may not get to see it for another two weeks until the Olympics are over, and anyway there is clearly more tension and adrenaline involved in the fantasy dates than in some snowy, potentially dangerous competition for a medal, right?). 

The baby's clothes, blankets, towels and bibs have all been washed and put away.  We've also bought our stroller and carseat and virtually every other essential piece of baby support equipment one can think of that will fit into a Manhattan apartment (I'm thinking I'll do a baby gear post at some point, although since we haven't road-tested any of it with an actual baby, perhaps that should wait? or perhaps it's really boring and no one actually cares?), and all of said equipment has been meticulously set up, organized and, in many cases, labeled for ease of use/finding. 

I do have one piece of art that I need to get framed and hang in the nursery (after which I will do a post with pictures of the baby's room, since some of y'all have asked -- I happen to think it's ever so pretty), and next week I have an appointment at the Upper Breast Side (hee) to assess and purchase nursing supplies.  And starting a week from tomorrow, I will be seeing my doctor every week (to my chagrin, these appointments will now require me to take my pants off; it's been so enjoyable for the past six or so months to visit the OB/GYN and not have to disrobe). 

But other than that, we are READY.  We have been pretty darn ready to house and attend to a baby for, oh, about three years now, but as of today we are, like, REALLY REALLY FLASHING NEON SIGN WITH WHOOPING ALARM READY. 

So basically, in the remaining weeks, left with no more necessities to purchase and nothing to obsessively organize or label, I am going to end up cleaning our baseboards with a toothbrush (after which someone will have to come help me up from the floor, possibly with the assistance of a winch and a tractor), washing vertical surfaces, arranging our bookshelves according to the Dewey decimal system and perhaps knocking on our neighbors' doors to see if they need anything dusted/polished/buffed/scrubbed/baked/organized/labeled. 

I think what I need are some homework assignments.  If there's something you want me to write about, some questions you want answered, perhaps an existential or practical dilemma you need solved or a project I can complete and document, preferably without causing myself any bodily injury (note: I can injure myself just getting off the couch these days), do let me know via comment or email. 

Let's make this time pass together, shall we, so I can get to "any day now" a little quicker.

The Prize You Don't Want

Last weekend, we were on the subway on our way home from seeing "A View from the Bridge" (which was very well done; Liev Schreiber was particularly excellent and also hot enough to distract me from the fact that New York theater seats were apparently designed for people with two-foot long legs, heavily padded butts and limitless bladder capacity (ONE ladies room, TWO stalls, OMG)), and -- actually, we might have been going from work to birthing class, now I can't remember and we're talking about something that happened less than seven days ago; send brain cells, please -- ANYWAY, this old man who was sitting near us stood up and all this change started falling out of his pockets and his bag.  There were coins rolling everywhere and he was frantically trying to pick them up, which only resulted in more change dropping from various places on his person (Joe:  "This guy's like a slot machine!"). 

While bending down in hapless pursuit of his escaping coins, he started dropping F-bombs in rapid succession, which didn't seem all that out of proportion to the situation although perhaps not entirely commendable in a public setting, but then he escalated it and started stomping his feet wildly while shouting obscenities, at which point we got up and moved to the other end of the car.  There's nothing quite like a 70-something year old man throwing a full-body tantrum on the subway, I tell you. 

Joe has a term for sitting next to a nutjob or bum on the subway (or having them come and sit next to you):  the booby prize.  We were on the train a couple of years ago with my parents, and a raggedly dressed man who was carrying about 5,000 plastic grocery bags filled with stuff got on and beelined for the seat next to my dad.  Joe leaned over to me and said, "Uh oh.  Jim got the booby prize." 

I seem to attract the booby prize quite a bit.  We were coming home from work a few weeks ago and a guy came and sat next to me looking reasonably normal, but once he got settled he leaned forward and put his hands on his knees and started rubbing them in a circular motion while rocking back and forth.  He did this for the entire ride, and even when several seats on the other side of him opened up (mostly by people who realized they'd gotten the booby prize too -- I didn't move because there was nowhere else to go and I am sure as hell not standing in my rotund condition), he remained practically glued to my side and continued his rocking, to the point that I was almost laying in Joe's lap to avoid bodily contact with the Knee-Rubber. 

Relatedly, and as an update to an earlier conversation, I have been pleasantly surprised by the number of people who have given up their seat for me on the train.  I'd say from about my sixth month on, this started happening more regularly.  It's still not every day, but maybe slightly more than half the time someone will let me sit down.  The rest of the time, I can tell that the people sitting in front of me are aware that I am there in all my big-bellied glory, but they hold their paper right up in front of their face or become supremely interested in their iPod so they can feign ignorance. 

Young guys in their teens and early 20s are the worst offenders; I could probably pass out or go into labor and they would pretend not to even see me.  (They are also the ones who sit spread-eagled, with their legs splayed and their hands in their pockets, elbows thrust out to the sides, so they take up about three seats, which drives me insane).  Older (50s and up) men are not much better and are the most likely to see me on the platform and then shove or elbow me aside when the train arrives so they can get on and get a seat first.  Women, predictably, give me their seats most often, but occasionally it's a guy of about my age or in his 40s. 

In fact, just last week I got onto a packed car and a guy saw me, stood up and gestured to his seat.  I thanked him and, just before I got to the seat, this middle-aged woman came BARRELING past me, out of nowhere, and wedged herself into it.  The guy and I were standing right there, so she had to have seen us, but what can you do?  We looked at each other and just laughed.  He shrugged and I thanked him again and the woman dug into her tote bag, took out a book and contentedly began to read. 

That's New York for you.

The latest pregnancy news, which I am sure you were all awaiting with bated breath, is that I have begun to experience the Fiery Lava Heartburn of DOOOOOM on a quasi-regular basis.  Tums is the answer, I have discovered, and as a bonus are vaguely SweeTart-esque.  For her part, the baby is getting crowded in there, and she likes to poke her feet into my ribs to stretch out, which is cute and sometimes kind of tickles, but other times seems to cause internal bruising.  She does an enthusiastic side-to-side shimmy a lot, too, and it's rather spectacular to watch my belly violently sway back and forth like there might be a rabid cat trapped inside it.  Then there are the left hooks to my bladder -- always a pleasure; there's nothing like peeing yourself a little in the produce section of the Whole Foods. 

Most of the time I really can't tell what's what -- is that her head or her butt?  Foot, hand, elbow, knee?  It's all very mysterious.  I wish I had a little door on my stomach so I could peek in and see what in the world this kid is up to. 

We've got somewhere between three and a half and six and a half weeks to go, though I am still counting on her to join us on the 37 weeks-ish side of full-term -- in our family, being on time means being early, you know -- and there remains the exciting question of whether she'll end up being a Pisces (before March 20) or an Aries.  We've got pretty much every bit of gear we could possibly need and a tremendous amount of adorable clothes, not to mention blankies and loveys and stuffed animals and books galore, and we've been reminding her of this a lot to entice her into the outside world (not quite yet, but SOON).  We are so ready.

I do need to get a pedicure, though, as we get closer, because I'd hate to frighten the L&D nurses with my gnarly toes.  That might be their version of the booby prize. 

Housekeeping

Thanks, y'all, for all the support and the war stories and the encouragement on the last entry.  It helps so so so so much to know that so many people have slogged through The Not-Sleeping and lived to tell about it.  You're all phenomenal, and it's comforting just to know that I can always come here and vent and commiserate and you'll BE HERE for me.  Yay.

So!  Birthing class.  Installment One was actually really informative and enjoyable and...well, even with the mullet-tastic video involving women making farm animal sounds and close-up shots of The Business, it was sort of comforting, in a very odd and surprising way.  And, if I can say this without punching myself in the face, I feel sort of excited about the labor and delivery process, in the way that I get excited about running a marathon -- I know I am going to be pushed to my limits in a million different and unexpected ways and I'll have the chance to see what I am mentally and physically capable of, regardless of the method by which the baby ends up having to come out.  I know it will quite possibly suck in all sorts of ways, but hey, FINALLY meeting our baby is one pretty great finish line, you know? 

Meanwhile, I'm sure you've been wondering whether I've used the immersion blender and slow cooker I got for Christmas.  I should let you out of your suspense and tell you that yes!  Yes, I have.  And they are rather awesome. 

In the slow-cooker, I've made barbecue pulled pork (transcendant), Boston baked beans (yum), classic beef stew (good, but the recipe needs some tweaking), Indian curry (delish), chicken masala (mmm) and chicken and dumplings (regrettable).  (All from the cookbook that came out of this blog).  I love how once you've thrown everything into the cooker, your dinner obligation is pretty much complete.  I also love how tender the meat comes out after simmering all day, how the flavors blend together with the longer cooking time, how there is usually enough for two nights of dinners and how you can get a full complement of protein and veggies in if you use the right recipe.  In short, the slow cooker was a definite score.

I've also made good use of the stick blender, primarily for smoothies on the weekends (during the week, it's all I can do to shove a yogurt and a Balance Bar into my bag before trudging off to work).  I put a bunch of frozen peaches in the little blendy-cup thing they give you, maybe cut up a banana as well, swirl in a bit of honey, sprinkle in cinnamon and flax seed, and slosh some milk over it all, then blend for a few minutes until it's frothy and thick and milkshake-y.  Oh, yes.

I used to sometimes get a hankering for a Jamba Juice-esque blended beverage, but never felt like hauling out the big old blender and having to wash all the parts afterward (or, for that matter, walking over to Jamba Juice and standing on their ENDLESS line) and OH, the LABOR was TOO MUCH, so this is perfect for making the Lazy Woman's Smoothie.  I have also used the stick to blend soups, which again had seemed unreasonably labor-intensive when a real blender was involved, but now I don't have to remove anything from the pot until it's ready to serve.  Wonders!

Separately, I would like to take a moment to note that I have just as many issues with maternity clothing sizes as I did with normal clothes.  Evidently it is too much to ask that things be sized consistently -- I have this one pair of Gap maternity jeans that I bought in my pre-pregnancy size (which they tell you to do at the outset, although I found that half the shirts in my regular size fit fine and half were too small, and of course you GROW during pregnancy, so the whole thing is counter-intuitive and stupid) and they fit great (although, as one might expect, they are becoming a hair more snug as time passes), so I ordered a second pair in the same size but a different wash and when they arrived I put them on and could not MOVE.  So back they went and, just to be safe, I ordered TWO sizes up as a replacement, so naturally that pair is ENORMOUS and falls off me as I walk, but I couldn't be bothered to send them back a second time so I just deal (and I'm sure I will be grateful for the extra room soon).

The other thing is that they have all these different styles of waistbands for pants -- no-panel, hidden panel, demi-panel, over-the-head panel -- but what no one bothered to mention was that the no-panel kind don't really WORK when your belly gets past a certain size, because there's nowhere for the pants to GO, nothing for them to grab onto, so they basically just fall right off.  Which means I have three pairs of pregnancy pants that are utterly useless now.

Plus, with the demi-panel, sometimes the elastic is not really as strong as it should be (I'm looking at you, Gap), so once again you have the southward-moving pants problem -- you're walking along and suddenly you feel like there is WIND passing over your drawers, so you have to hitch up your trousers every two minutes, which really adds to the look of sophistication you're going for as a waddling pregnant woman in a tent-sized coat.  Yet you don't want to wear full-panel all the time (or add on a Bella Band), because my God the ITCHING.  On the up side, I have found that dresses work well as a wardrobe option, although it's not every day that you want to wrestle yourself into maternity tights so that only takes you so far.

Oh!  Also!  I wanted to tell you that I have butt ointment on my face.  My doctor recommended that I use A+D Ointment on those dry, rashy spots on my chin, and it seems to be working.  They're not totally gone, but they're much less red and angry looking.  And I smell like a clean baby's butt, so there is that.

By the way, apropos of nothing, I have to note that I really miss running.  I do.  SO much.  Power-walking and workout DVDs are keeping me from losing my mind entirely, but I am a little melancholy over the absence of running in my life.  It just feels so GOOD and there is simply no substitute for even a brief four-mile trot in the park to clear the head and energize the body.  I can't wait to get back into it. 

But then it hit me this morning that it's not like the baby will pop out and I'll be out for a run the next morning or even the next week or possibly the next MONTH OR MORE.  And when I am finally able to get out there, I may have...ISSUES resulting from the baby's exit, and it may take a really long time for things to normalize, so running may not be the joyous romp that I am pining for now.  Oh, BIOLOGY.  How you toy with me.

Finally, I don't usually like to blog ABOUT blogging, but I've been meaning to put up some kind of entry or additional page or...something to explain the whole adoption story, since newcomers or people looking for information about adoption don't have much of a way to unearth the old posts about that stuff seeing as (a) I got rid of the category for it and (b) I deleted a lot of those old entries in a fit of pique when everything went haywire in the fall of 2008.  I DO have a nutshell summary on the About page, but it doesn't get into the nitty-gritty.  So that may be coming soon, although it also kind of makes me tired to think about writing and executing it.  I will have to be in the right mood, perhaps. 

I've also been thinking about whether to have my site redesigned, but there again the idea of finding someone to hire for the project and doing...whatever it is you do to implement such a plan (or even just fiddling with Typepad templates) also makes me weary.  And there is something oddly comforting to me about my sad, plain little blue website, without ads or adornment of any kind except Miles's little face up there in the corner.  On the one hand, I want to make my readers feel welcome and happy when they come here; on the other, I know most people probably follow along in Reader or don't come here for the design anyway, so I wonder if it even matters.  Fret, fret, fret.

Sleepless

I've started to become a bit concerned about the whole sleep deprivation element of having a newborn. 

I don't do at all well with not sleeping.  I am a solid eight-hours-a-night girl, and on weekends and vacations I can easily put in nine or more hours at a stretch.  I have also been known to add naps into the mix with some level of frequency. 

When I don't get enough sleep, things start to break down in a hurry.  I become grouchy, clumsy and prone to emotional meltdowns.  My temper flares at the slightest provocation and the simplest of tasks seem to swell to unmanageable proportions.  My blood sugar goes haywire (which also causes unpretty behavior, eesh).  Catastrophic thinking sets in, such that I become convinced that not only will I never sleep again, but that everything is woe and misery and every force in the universe is against me and WE'RE ALL GOING TO DIE, RIGHT HERE, RIGHT NOW from the sheer weight of my crushing fatigue.

When I disembark an overnight transatlantic flight, for example, and the tinny light of the early morning hits my gritty, clouded eyes after I've been crunched in an unforgiving airline seat for seven hours and haven't gotten more than maybe ten minutes of head-bobbing, drooling sleep, I'm able to cruise on the adrenaline of exploration (a new country! how thrilling!) and necessity (must.find.hotel.) for a while, and then can eke out about a half-day of moderately strenuous sight-seeing, so long as I eat something every couple of hours.  But around three in the afternoon, things start to unravel, and suddenly the inability to pinpoint our location on a map or the appearance of a long line to get into a museum becomes an insurmountable problem of global significance, and if I don't find my way to a bed in very short order, there is likely to be an international incident.

I'm extrapolating what it will be like to do that -- or some semblance of that -- EVERY SINGLE DAY, and...yikes.

I'm also imagining that the added cocktail of hormones, body weirdness, pain in unmentionable places and the general bewilderment that accompanies probably the biggest life change a human can experience is going to create, shall we say, less than ideal conditions in which for me to operate on fewer than my required hours of sleep. 

Yes, there will also be the adrenaline rush of the newness of it and the heart-stopping moments of parental love and all of that, but I'm not sure that I will be able to magically overcome 34 years of sleep-dependence and morph into one of those people who perks right out of bed after sleeping from 1 to 4am and tackles the day with aplomb.  I'm picturing day after day of me standing in the kitchen weeping uncontrollably because I spilled some Cheerios on the counter or stomping around barking at everyone because I can't find the extra wipes, oh my GOD, WHERE ARE THEY and why can't I ever FIND ANYTHING and this apartment SUCKS with its crappy EVERYTHING and why are we even IN this stupid CITY with all the ASS-PEOPLE who live here and why must they HONK ALL THE TIME on our street, don't they know we have a BABY IN HERE?

Not to mention that, having forsaken caffeine for just shy of a year, plunging back into coffee or Diet Coke usage make not be the smoothest transition, either -- I imagine I'll end up sitting blank-eyed on the couch, quietly twitching from the onslaught of stimulant into my system, or I'll be all the more volatile and even more minor things will set me off than would have with the fatigue alone (God help us all).

I suppose with these things you just do the best you can and you muddle through it -- gracefully or not -- and you lean on each other and step in when the other person has Had It (note: this is ALWAYS going to be me, since Joe can function on far less sleep than I can) and one day, if you're lucky, your baby starts sleeping through the night, or at least waking up less often and at longer intervals.  And yes, of course, it's all worth it and it's temporary and survivable and all that, but I'm still a bit preoccupied with what it's really going to be LIKE and what I'll be able to DO to survive without completely flying to pieces. 

(I know, I know:  sleep when the baby sleeps! Haaaa, well.  I have been around the block enough to know that THAT doesn't work for everyone, and anyway I figure there will be an awful lot to DO when the baby is sleeping, such as showering, eating, exercising, cleaning the disaster that will likely be our apartment, tending to the animals, letting family and friends know we're still alive, and of course catching up on blog-reading (what?) -- and knowing me, I won't be able to turn off the mental urge to do all those things even if all I want to do is lay down and slip into a coma.  So, yeah, it's a nice idea, but I know I'll also want to Get Shit Done and not have my life fall into shambles around me).

Of course, right now -- when everyone and their mother feels compelled to remind us, with an almost sadistic, knowlng chuckle, to get our sleep while we still can! because there will be none of that when the baby comes! -- I am ensconced in the cruel joke of the third trimester, in which you sleep less AND less deeply (and, by the way, have unbeLIEVably weird and disturbing dreams) and in which your body is already screaming with fatigue, so this is very much on my mind and I want to BANK SLEEP to establish some kind of RESERVE, but I can't, and I know it doesn't work that way, anyway, so I am left to stew about it and write this little cry for help.