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Showing posts from January, 2008

Per Bdogg's request...

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Here are some pix from my ultrasound yesterday. Both pictures show E's profile...the technician also took lots of shots of his brain, kidneys, etc., but she had to hold onto those. As I was leaving the imaging center, there were gale-force winds...but just on that block. It was the strangest thing. I was practically blown back into the building. There were garbage bags and boxes piled by the curb, and the wind was strong enough to slam one of the (full) boxes against my leg! Fortunately, once I took a right onto another street, the weather was completely normal and the crazy wind seemed like a dream.
So I got what will probably be my last ultrasound today. E is doing well and weighs 14 ounces. The technician said that was within normal range, but I knew that was a bit big ("Just a few days," she admitted). I keep wondering whether E will be a 7-lb baby (like D and his sister) or a 9-lb baby (like me and my bro -- my sisters were twins, so I chalk up their lighter weight to that). I think we have our answer. I always love plump babies. I just hope the day of reckoning is not too, too painful. Anyway, everything looks good. I even got to see his manly bits. The technician and I both giggled, I don't know why. She even pointed a little arrow toward it.
So D and I had another delicious dinner tonight. The atmosphere was great too...flickering candles, a cozy space on a secluded street in the village. I had: white bean bruschetta (the white beans were in some kind of vinaigrette, truly awesome -- shared with D) organic mixed greens with lemon thyme vinaigrette (the dressing was outstanding) white bean ravioli and... We shared a " Po sundae": mint gelato with chocolate sauce and a dash of cinnamon. And I think some pine nuts were floating around in there. Sadly, our favorite Barnes and Noble location is closing. I do usually go to the library, but my branch doesn't always meet a girl's needs. A moment of silence, please. *Oddly enough, Blogger doesn't like ampersands...they wouldn't let me put one between Barnes and Noble. Who knew?

Stats

Every once in a while, I check my stats to see which cities appear and which searches people used to get here. A while ago, I blogged about seeing some male underwear models doing a photo shoot on a roof (this was during the summer). That BY FAR is the most popular query. I can't count how many people have come to my blog by searching for "male underwear models." Oy. But one today made me laugh. Somebody from Anchorage, Alaska visited me 14 times, and found me using this search: "Girlfriend is grossed out by cast iron pan." These searches are like a mental snapshot, I think...a little view into other people's minds.

Unsolicited advice

So I've been cruising around reading mother blogs, and from them and my own experience, it seems like having a baby opens you up to one of my least favorite things, ever: Unsolicited Advice. It should be noted that, like ice cream, unsolicited advice comes in many flavors, and I don't really mind it from friends. However, friends are the least likely to give it. They sensibly wait for you to ask for it. At which point, it's not unsolicited! Yay. I recently talked with someone who warned me not to be overwhelmed by someone else's unsolicited advice, then started telling me what to do regarding breastfeeding (I am prepared for this one. I am going to try it. If it doesn't work, it doesn't work.) AND where E should go to school. And we're not talking elementary school. High school. I was a little taken aback. I mean, this is the fellow who's still in my womb. It actually reminded me of an enterprising couple who wanted to get their baby (as yet unborn) into
So D and I had a fabulous dinner. I was off swimming and he called Babbo to see if they had a table available. Turns out they had a last-minute cancellation and could accommodate us at 5:30. Pregnant women like to eat early and often, so I was up for it (after a little concern about the non-vegetarian-ness of the menu. AND they broke D's "household pet" rule -- they had rabbit on the menu. But he wanted to go anyway.) We've been there before, but tonight was our best experience there. We sat upstairs, away from the hustle and bustle. Two tall, thin bookcases filled with wine stood against the walls. The women's bathroom had a tub of pretty flowers. I ended up getting: roasted beets with ricotta salata (though D's appetizer, a mushroom crepe with vinaigrette, was better and I need to remember to get that when we go back. Neci con funghi mista, I think it was called). pumpkin lune (homemade pasta stuffed with pumpkin, in a moon shape, hence the name) chocolate
So I just saw Cassandra's Dream, Woody Allen's little-publicized but excellent new movie. It was a Greek tragedy involving 2 brothers (Colin Farrell and Ewan McGregor)/psychological thriller, set in London. One critic described it as "relentlessly dark -- not a laugh in the whole thing", but there were moments of mild humor. It was definitely a drama, though -- not a comedy. If you like Hitchcock or enjoyed Match Point, this is probably right up your alley. Senseless fear #101 - I was eating a bar of Toblerone during the movie. Then my teeth started zinging. I thought, "I've heard of things being so sweet they make your teeth hurt -- but this can't be right." Then I realized I was chewing on tinfoil. I sheepishly removed a bit of tinfoil from my mouth. My teeth stopped zinging. I chewed the remaining chocolate and swallowed it. Then I started worrying: What if I didn't get it all? What if this hurts E? But I reasoned that my teeth STOPPED ZINGING
So I henna'ed my hair last night. I saw my hair in a mirror earlier and thought, "This is too gray for me." It wasn't terrible as far as gray hair went, kind of silvery, but still. In other news, I'm interviewing a little muffin! (This is how I think of 17-year-olds.) She's a student in Manhattan who's interested in going to my college. It's funny, I recently read Acceptance by Susan Coll, which is a satire of the college admissions process. In the book, a student was caught off guard when an alumni interviewer asked him, "If you were a shoe, what kind would you be?" Now, I love that kind of question. My mind immediately responded, "I would be a sneaker...comfortable and versatile." So I included that question in my list of 17 questions. If it causes her distress, like it did in the book, I won't pursue it. I may even give her the back story.
So 3 things happened today so far: 1) I was walking along and saw Ethan Hawke again. He must either live in my neighborhood or have a special fondness for it. This time, he was talking with some guy (not famous) and telling what sounded like a story of frustration. "Just rack it up!" he said as I passed. He was wearing a navy blue skullcap and looked a bit gaunt. I was tempted to offer him a sandwich or switch some pregnant poundage from my body to his. 2) Before I saw Ethan (yeah, we're on a first-name basis now), I looked up at the sky and thought: If it's going to be so gray and oppressive, could it at least snow? A few minutes later, a fluffy white powder started drifting down (and no, it was not dandruff). Pretty cool, huh? 3) I've been wanting to get back to knitting. But I have enough knitted goods for an army (one with a secure sense of masculinity, since many of my hats are pink). So I decided I could make something for someone else. Then I realized it
So D and I kind of saw the Tom Stoppard play yesterday with L and his cousin -- it turned out he and his girlfriend had broken up (though possibly just temporarily) and he invited his cousin in her place. He told D the girlfriend was a "rude girl" and he'd been meeting a lot of "rude girls" in Florida. We go to Miami once a year, and the people we meet there are pretty relaxed and happy, but the idea of a state full of rude girls is kind of funny. Anyway, the play was awful. It was the kind of awfulness that beggars description, but I'll just say it was too talky, it made awkward stabs at humor, and it was fatally boring. If you have a yen for communism, go see The Lives of Others (it might be on DVD by now) or read The Unbearable Lightness of Being. Also, the physical seats were terrible -- really confining and uncomfortable. Think airplane seats and then make them a little smaller with less leg room. I had just gone swimming so I had all these endorphins,

Nips and grays

This will be a short, somewhat incoherent post b/c I'm tired, but I wanted to jot a couple of things down... 1) Went to visit Rainer (I saw him a few times recently but didn't blog about it, because while it was fun to see him, nothing unusual happened). Today he was kind of jumpy and actually nipped my hand when I was talking to DG. It may have been a bid for my full attention...but I was annoyed! He acted like he didn't do anything wrong, and stayed on my lap. I got up shortly thereafter because my legs were asleep, and honestly...I was a little mad! Then he prowled around the bookstore, lay down so I could rub his belly, and got on my lap again. He acted like nothing had happened - purring, rubbing his head against my sleeve, etc. But still....why did he nip me? It wasn't hard enough to break the skin, or leave a mark, or even hurt really...but it was bad! Now I feel like I'm in an abusive relationship. I should've said, "No, Rainer. BAD!" 2) On the

Hello

So I went to the doctor this morning. Good things are happening, I continue to inch up the scale but E is free of Down Syndrome and spina bifida, and his heart is pumping away like a good soldier. It is fun hearing it through the doctor's little Doppler device. The doctor cheerfully told me that the next two months are the "honeymoon period" -- very little muscular/skeletal pain, I can feel the baby moving so that's reassuring, and then she dropped the bomb -- I will gain 70% of my pregnancy weight during this period. Egads. I guess I just need to "let go." In other news, a friend of D's...well, I'll back up. This friend is fond of extravagant gifts out of nowhere. Once he bought a foosball table for D's office (D is a foosball fiend, though he kindly lets my nephew win) and once he surprised us with Billy Joel tickets. Well, he's going to be in town on Sunday, and asked if we wanted to go to dinner. We said yes. Then he sent an email that li

Ch-ch-changes

Yesterday I had organic Raisin Bran cereal with skim milk, 2 glasses of orange juice, 3 oranges, 1 nonfat yogurt, yellow split-pea soup, some healthy chickpea-potato concoction, rice noodles with broccoli and tofu, and salad. Oh, and a (vegan) pecan blondie. Which I shared with D. Not terrible, right? I am the size of a house. Did I mention I walked 2-3 miles yesterday and swam for half an hour? I'm still enormous. I passed this corner where bums gather, on my way to the pool. Usually I cross the street to avoid them, because they hit on any woman who is (a) under 80 or (b) has some teeth. Yesterday, I had a feeling it would be okay to pass them. It was. I'm mostly relieved. But still...
So I picked up 4 books at the library today: Exit Ghost by Philip Roth. So far it seems to be primarily about incontinence, but what the heck. I generally like his books except when he's in rambling, hyper-political mode. This one seems to be in concise, pithy mode. Intuition by Allegra Goodman. I kept seeing this book everywhere so it nudged itself into my consciousness and I put it on hold. I don't know if the science angle will grab me...but hopefully the characters will be interesting enough that it won't matter. Acceptance by Susan Coll. I've had this one on hold for a year and a day. Not literally. But long enough. The Birth House by Ami McKay. Historical novel about midwives...probably not as good as Bohjalian's Midwives, but then again, what is? :D Went to the restaurant with the Justin Timberlake shrine last night. Somebody defiled the glass case with the Justin figurine inside. They scratched something in graffiti language into the glass. So management ret

The perfect cookie

Today, there is a big rainstorm/thunderstorm in Manhattan; it's romantic and scary all at once. AND I had the perfect cookie. I love the peanut butter cookies at Whole Foods, but they do not always get the texture right. I am seeking soft and chewy, but with a touch of "al dente" - i.e., Pepperidge Farm Soft-Baked are too soft for me. Whole Foods makes their p.b. cookies either perfect or hard (overcooked and brown). There is no in-between. I test the cookies by pinching them gently with a piece of parchment covering my fingers. Yesterday they had a perfect one, but some hooligan took a bite out of it and PUT IT BACK. I know, I know. Even grosser - my mind briefly entertained buying it, but I reasoned I had no idea what germs the transgressor left on the cookie. But today, I found the perfect cookie. And it was bite-free. Also, they were playing "Alone" by Heart in the store. I had forgotten this song's existence, but it brought me back to the summer of 1987

Since you asked...

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Here I am. 18 weeks. I tried putting up a side shot too, but I couldn't orient it correctly on Blogger for love or money. Even though it was rotated properly when I saved it, Blogger kept flipping it on its side. So there you have it.
So I meant to go swimming today, but I couldn't because I wasn't able to put down Towelhead by Alicia Erian. It was definitely riveting. When I originally bought it, I thought it was a memoir, and quickly saw when I got home that it was fiction. I'm glad that it was! Anyway, the time melted away as I finished the book, and I never made it to the pool. I felt the need to do some exercise before dinner (other than the walk D and I took earlier, to a Thai place for lunch, and my walk to the library), so I popped in a yoga DVD. I've found that pregnancy is somewhat limiting with yoga...some of the poses are out, either because of discomfort or because different books advise against them. And also, I just found myself gravitating toward swimming. But I did enjoy today's yoga. I think I can embrace it in this different form, even if I like being in the water a little better. On that note, I should probably get the salsa dancing DVD, because some days I won't be able t
My stomach is starting to precede me into a room. Or maybe it's just tonight. I have added a food baby to the regular baby. We went to Pizzeria Uno -- partly b/c I wanted pizza, partly b/c I wanted to give D a break from my persistent Thai craving -- it was like a voice chanting in my ear, "Red curry, red curry, red curry." So I gave the curry a break and got an individual deep-dish pizza. But that was not enough! It should have been. But it wasn't. So we got this really big, vile yet delicious dessert - a giant peanut butter cup with ice cream on top. I'm happy to say we didn't finish it. But we made more of a dent in it than we should have. The peanut butter cup had an Oreo cookie crust on the bottom. It reminded me of what I called "dirt" in Carvel ice cream cakes when I was four -- this textured, gravelly chocolate in the middle of the cake. I think I called it dirt to illustrate my simultaneous repulsion by and attraction to it. I found myself s

Furniture and some onesies

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Thanks to everyone for your comments and emails...I feel like much less of a furniture ignoramus now! In my defense, I've only bought 2 pieces of furniture in my life: a futon and a chair. At the same place in Boston or Cambridge, in 1999. I guess my philosophy is - if you can't wear it, eat it or read it - I'm not going to buy it. Usually. But now, armed with the advice of my expert readers, I have made some decisions! Which are open to change. Here's the crib I'm thinking of. I love the cherry wood. It needs to be assembled, but D says we can hire someone to do it. Also, the comments say it is easy to assemble. And it's still hundreds of dollars less than the one at Buy Buy Baby (even after shipping). What's not to love? Stacking baskets ! $14.99 each instead of a $600-$800 dresser from Buy Buy Baby. Woo! Changing pad ! Instead of a changing table. And here are some onesies I bought at Old Navy:
So I went to Buy Buy Baby today to case the joint in terms of cribs and changing table/dresser combos (where you change the baby on top, and there are drawers down below). Before I go further, let me explain that we have a New York City apartment. It is a very nice one for the money. We only have a deal like this because MIL put D on a waiting list when he was 12. But note that I said it's very nice for the money. It is not the size of the $6700 one we visited on New Year's Eve. As a result, E (the bebe) will be in the living room (which is very close to our bedroom, don't worry, we will hear every peep, and also have a monitor) until we get a bigger apartment. Our building has a policy that you cannot get a bigger apartment until the bebe is born. They won't tell us how long it will take after the baby is born, either. Not even an estimate. So, I'm in the market for small furniture. I saw a crib/bassinet/toddler bed/2 chairs (I'm serious, it converts into all t
So last night was not that bad after all. In fact, it was much better than I expected. Maybe the key is low expectations ;) Although they say the opposite with childbirth pain - if you think you can't stand it, you can't; if you think it's manageable, you'll be okay. We had dinner with DG at a restaurant with golden walls and a very kind owner, who said, "Can I say congratulations?" after I took my coat off. They gave us some strawberries and biscotti at the end, dusted with confectioners' sugar, just to be nice. My eyes were closing at the end, I was so tired, but DG thought a change in venue would invigorate me. It did -- we proceeded to a party at a gorgeous apartment that costs $6700/month (sometimes the wealth floating around Manhattan freaks me out) and there was a sweet black Lab there who greeted us. This was the best-behaved dog I have ever seen. Most dogs bark, jump or freak out when there is company, but this one just wagged sedately, as if to s