Experimental Soup Making

I Have Moved

2010-09-07T12:12:00.001-07:00

Dearest Reader,

I have created a new online presence for myself at www.kateschatz.tumblr.com. I feel like this blog has served its purpose, and I want to preserve it as is, and move on to something else. It is called HELP YOU TO SEE FOREVER TOO and it is lots of photos and moments and quick impressions of the lives we are living. This blog will continue to exist as an archive of a time in my life; please visit my new space for the next chapter. XOXO

2010-03-23T11:17:00.000-07:00

2010-03-23T11:14:00.000-07:00

2010-03-04T10:57:00.000-08:00

2010-03-04T10:55:00.001-08:00

2010-03-04T10:55:00.000-08:00

Baby bonnet, baby sonnet

2010-02-19T12:38:00.000-08:00

I don't much feel like writing about sleep, or the lack of it, or how to solve baby sleep problems, or whether baby sleep problems are actually problems, or what to do and whether to cry and blah blah blah. Cuz it's all pretty much been said, and it's all evershifting and new and mysterious and baffling and, ultimately, fleeting. But I digress. I'm teaching sonnets and villanelles and sestinas to my high school students next month and I figured I should try to practice what I plan to preach.

Baby Sonnet #1

I tried to write a sonnet in my head while you were crying
Arranging words and counting lines and minutes on the clock
Be patient and be kind and oh be present I am trying
The streetlight glow the dark backyard and I recheck the lock

At times like this, the night’s midpoint, I know there are no theories
(Though studies done in Sweden show there’s no such thing as teething)
You whimper sigh and shift around, at times release the furies
Or I wake scared to silent home and have to check your breathing

My love he wants to interact, to process and engage
And I’m like no, this robot-mom must focus and preserve
My sleep my rest my sanity as night it turns the page
But thank you dear, your arm so warm, such comfort in your curve

And then we bring you into bed, curled sweet around each other
Your mouth insists in dreams I drift my god I am a mother

2010-02-10T12:18:00.001-08:00

2010-02-10T12:18:00.000-08:00

2010-02-10T12:17:00.001-08:00

2010-02-10T12:17:00.000-08:00

Six Months In

2010-01-07T12:01:00.000-08:00

Oh hi, blog. How's it going. Great. Happy 2010! What a decade it's been, what a year 2009 was, what an explosion of words and sounds and milestones and solid foods and walking and laughing and learning 2010 will be. The Ivy Cat continues to be awesome, expressive, loud, voracious, adorable. We continue to be in awe, in love, in over our heads, into it. Working hard to stay calm and grounded and not let myself get too overwhelmed by the many many things there are to do around the house, etc. Getting ready for new emotions and expressions from this baby, who's definitely making a 6 month shift...communicating more, developing more attachments, pulling herself up to standing sometimes (!?!), continuing to dislike being on her belly, but reaching for this and wanting to move around (she scoots on her back a lot!). She goes in the swings at the park! She ate a little bit of banana! She loves the dog and the cat! She wears tiny little shoes!

In other news, the world does not actually revolve around my baby. Only partially. The rest of the world revolves around my friend's babies, and the babies who will be born to friends of mine between March and May...I believe there's 5. FIVE! Amazing. (Note: the world also revolves around my dear husband.) I am thrilled for these new additions to already-awesome families, and to continue my vague, irregular project of advice-giving, here's a totally incomplete list of Baby Objects I'm Really Glad We Own (Most of Which We Found For Free or Really Cheap or Were Given):

Aden + Anais swaddle blankets: big, breathable, soft, cute, lightweight. Perfect for swaddling, laying baby atop of, light blanket, sun shield, whathaveyou. Totally perfect for spring/summer babies when you wanna wrap em up, but don't want them to be too hot.

Infant Carseat: There are basically two choices for carseats: rear-facing infant seats, which snap in and out of a base, and can be plopped into a stroller thing, and convertible seats, which can face rear and then turn around and face forward when baby is big enough. The benefit of the latter is only having to buy/borrow one seat from birth-toddler. However, the advantages of the infant seat are huge. Loved being able to carry her around in it when she fell asleep, etc. now she's too heavy to cart around, but it's still convenient. We never managed to get the stroller frame that it clicks into, but I kinda wish we had. We're now ready to switch to the convertible, cuz my baby's huge, and I plan to buy one off CL. I'm hoping to get a Britax Marathon Convertible. Cuz apparently that's what I should get. (The Marathon is more expensive than the Roundabout, but it's taller, and lasts thru toddler years. Plus Ivy is super tall, so I need that).

Breast Pump: Love it. Got it for free (thanks, my mom's neighbor who I've never met!), wasn't sure if I'd use it, now am soooooo glad for it. It's the key to your freedom, and to relieving crazy engorged boobs early on. Mine's a Medela Pump in Style I think. It's fancy, yada yada, get one used. You can buy new sterile parts for it (or just boil the used ones. No biggie) I'm still not a huge fan of the actual act of pumping, but I'm a massive fan of being able to leave the baby for more than an hour and know that she'll be fed and happy.

Ergo baby carrier: Everyone's got their own opinion on carriers based on what the baby likes, what feels best for the parent, etc. We used a sling at the beginning, and then the Bjorn for a bit, but both were too heavy and hard on my shoulder/s. You can start using the Ergo at about 3 months (before that their hips can't handle the splayed position) and I looooooove it and so does she. It's pricey, but really worth it IMHO. Supports your back and shoulders, cozy and warm for baby, has a little pocket for phone, keys, etc. We wear her in in pretty much every day.

Bouncy chair: I believe I've already covered this. But it's crucial. We have this one. Mom got it for $5 at a thriftstore! She now can almost squirm out of it, but for the first 5 months, it was a lifesaver.

Hella socks: Trumpette's are ridiculously cute, and I have no idea why they dominate the baby sock market, but they do. So many patterns, and so freakin cute. Once the baby can remove socks, you will realize the importance of having many, many socks.

Activity Gym: She loves this thing. We have kinds of random hand-me-down gadgets that attach to it and she can play there for a while. Yay.

Sophie le Girafe: It's a squeaky rubber giraffe that every baby on earth seems to have. Not essential by any means, but Ivy loves it. Go figure.

I'll stop there.

What Do You Mean It's Only 5:15? It's Dark!

2009-11-24T22:16:00.001-08:00

I know it happens every year, but somehow this year's falling-back seems...different. Like, suckier. Like, I really really notice it, especially since we've started a backyard project and all the sudden there's this rapidly setting sun that I'm racing against as I frantically try to dig holes and spread bat shit (guano fertilizer!) on my new plants. Ivy has been kind enough to sit in her pink bouncy chair (NOTE TO ADVICE-SEEKING MOMS-TO-BE: BOUNCY CHAIRS ARE TOTALLY CRUCIAL. More on that later) and watch me garden, and I get all excited thinking about her joining me in a few years...And by that point, I might actually know what the hell I'm doing.

I'll post pictures of this project soon. I'll also write more advice. And post some videos of Ivy ROLLING and ALMOST SITTING UP and probably some of her ENJOYING HER FIRST THANKSGIVING!

But it's 10:23pm and you know what? I'm gonna get in bed. Because I can. And because I want to. And because it's Tuesday, and there's no good TV on.

Also: I got my IUD today. IUD! Can't say it was a pleasurable procedure, especially when the Dr. dropped one of the instruments and had to page a nurse to bring her a new, sterile one, which did not happen immediately, which meant that I laid on the table all dilated and speculum-ed for way longer than one would want, but luckily I had my Crackberry, which meant I could play Word Mole, the crackiest game of them all. The nurse finally found the replacement sterile thing, and shazam, I'm 99.9% not gonna make another baby for a while. Phew.

But what was I saying about Daylight Savings time? And how it's all dark all early now? And how by 6pm it seems sooooooo late? I dunno. Whatever. It happens. Good night!

Ivy Cat Cracks Up!

2009-11-24T21:47:00.000-08:00

Ivy has been cracking up a lot lately—she's been giggling/laughing for a while, but now she's into full-on breathless guffawing. It's amazing. Mostly she likes when we jump up and down and make asses of ourselves. Get her every time.

This is definitely one of my favorite developments thus far...

Piecemeal Mama Advice, Con't

2009-11-12T11:35:00.001-08:00

Every time I think about which gems of advice to dole out when I have a moment to sit down and write I get overwhelmed and my brain swirls with random tidbits of information that I feel I must convey. And I think I should organize these thoughts and apply some kind of structure or system to the doling, but then I realize that scattershot blogging and advice-giving serves as an accurate representation of How My Mind Works Now. Like:

—You'll be amazed by how much your boobs leak. Everyone is different, yes, and I have friends who squirted and soaked, and friends who never really made much of a mess. But be prepared, cuz you never know. My milk just 'regulated' a few weeks ago, and up until then I was wearing breast pads at all times (except for the many times when I forgot them, due to mom brain, and went to Home Depot and had to rush out with my arms crossed across my chest). You can either use disposable breast pads or reusable ones that you wash (those links are for just some of the many options out there). I definitely preferred using the washable ones, for environmental and comfort reasons, but for the first month or so the disposables were the only ones that actually worked. I soaked right through the hippie cotton ones. Eventually I would use the washable ones in the day and the disposables at night (you have sleep with some sort of bra or tank-top-bra thing on. The pads can still shift around, though, and I just got used to wet spots on the bed...) But seriously: I did not get the importance of breast pads until my milk came in and I was like HOLY SHIT THERE IS MILK SHOOTING OUT OF MY BOOBS AND SOAKING ALL MY CLOTHES! So: ADVICE! Buy breast pads! Have 'em at the ready! Put 'em in your purse, your diaper bag, your car. Leaving the house and realizing that you've forgotten to stick them in your bra really freaking sucks. Toilet paper stuffed in your bra does not hold a candle to the breast pad. Trust me.

—One of the things that's been incredibly challenging for me is remembering shit and keeping straight all the little things I need to do, buy, get, order, etc. Granted, I am not a terribly organized person (despite my Virgoness) but other mamas have concurred that Mom Brain is no joke. It put my pregnesia to shame. I do believe that it's some deep biological shit intended to keep up totally focused on the survival and growth of our babies. And that's great, but you need to leave the cave and get shit done after a while. I can't tell you how many times I've remembered things while in the shower or in the car, only to them get home/get out of the shower, pick up the baby, change her diapers, change her clothes, nurse her, answer the phone...and the thing I remembered just disappears. It drove me crazy for a while. If you already have a good system for organizing your to-dos in place, then right on, stick with it. I definitely did not have this, and now I just use the to-do app on my Blackberry, and I do it RIGHT when I think of the thing. I tried writing things down in a notebook, but I would inevitably misplace the notebook; I always have my phone with or near, so that's worked for me.

—I cannot emphasize enough the importance of a) an engaged, active, supportive, patient partner b) a supportive community of friends and family c) a community of other new mamas (and papas). I feel so lucky to have all three, and know that, for various reasons, it's not always possible to have all three. I didn't have any pregnant friends when I got pregnant, but through mutual friends, my midwife, a few new mom groups, a bunch of emails and a lot of gregarious chutzpah, I now have a pretty extensive crew of new mamas and babies to hang out with. The key is really to find people with whom you'd be friends even if there were no babies involved—it's really great to be able to talk about diapers and breastfeeding as well as non-baby related things. At this stage, it's mostly about us, as our babies are too young to really interact, but it's so great to be able to spend time with people who know what you're going through, and who can offer advice and perspective. And it's so exciting to think of our babies growing and developing together.

There's much more to be said about the family and friends and the supportive awesome partner, but my brain is ready to move on now. And my shoulder hurts. And I'm hungry.

And in case you're wondering where Ivy is...she's with her Auntie Aubrey, aka her babysitter, and today is Thursday, aka Kate's Day, when I am baby-free and can write, go visit Kim in SF , buy Buzz's flea medicine, and, in general, have some delicious time to myself. What was I saying about the importance of supportive family? Yes. Exactly. Thanks Aubs!

A Few Recent Pics

2009-11-12T11:19:00.000-08:00

Ivy met Jesus in Salt Lake City
And she was a total angel at cousin Adrienne's wedding
And she a precious perfect pumpkin on the flight out there

And she wore a ridiculously over-sized bee costume (courtesy of cousin Madeline) and hung out with a ladybug (Ginger Crash), Bruce Lee (Nikko), and a pirate (Io)

Another Note on the Name of this Blog

2009-11-12T10:58:00.000-08:00

Awhile back, when I re-entered/restarted/revived this blog, I write an explanation-of-sorts re: the title. And I thought I'd revisit that explanation, as it seems time to do so, and it also functions as a kind of advice-to-new-parents. Because parenting, thus far, is certainly one big experiment. It is something we have never, ever done in our lives. Certainly, we've done things that vaguely resemble parenting in some way—having pets, babysitting, taking care of younger siblings, watching movies with parents in them, thinking about parenting, etc—but nothing, not all the how-to books/websites/blogs/advice in the world can prepare you for this singular and mind-blowing experience. Every day is new, every moment is new, every tiny development and concern and shift and change and milestone is a first. And like my preferred method of making soup, I sometimes use a recipe for guidance or inspiration (the advice, the how-to books), and I have a general (yet ever-changing) arsenal of reliable ingredients (patting, shhhhing, bouncing, singing, the stuffed fox, the yoga ball, this weird tube that's like a hippie rain stick for babies that she totally loves) but I'm adding news things, and I'm always kind of making it up.

And getting it right is very, very satisfying. And when you kind of mess up, or your once-reliable ingredient no longer suits the soup, you learn very quickly, and you figure it out (ok, we're NOT into bouncing right now), and you improvise (don't like the fox right now? Awesome, no problem—look, a sock! Let's play with a SOCK!!!).

And, if I may stretch this poor, abused metaphor out any further: Each day of experimenting with this new role and this new creature is—like a cozy, yummy, love-infused soup—super delicious.

Piecemeal Mama Advice

2009-11-06T11:07:00.000-08:00

I've got this plan to write a big 'ol post filled with all the wisdom and secret tricks and product recommendations that have made their way into my brain over the past 4+ months. And oh, I've thought a lot about what to write. But oh, I never manage to do it.

Case in point: I am now typing this one-handed because I am nursing. And it's not even my good hand.

So rather than one big long crafted post, I'll try to offer my thoughts in the tiny bursts that this baby allows.

Thought #1: Once you have a baby, it becomes really hard to get anything done. It WILL all get done (mostly) but it will take a long time. I could elaborate, but I can't right now. Let's just say it took me over 10 minutes just to write this.

Ch ch ch changes

2009-11-05T21:24:00.000-08:00

Hello, 4 month old baby! You are freaking cute, among other things. You're also incredibly smiley, and quite talkative, especially in the mornings, when you release an endless stream of chatter and gurgles and coos and mmmmppprrrggrshsssss. Yesterday you rolled over for the first time, though I didn't actually see it. You were on your activity mat, eating your toes (your current favorite activity) and rolling onto your side. Then I went into my bedroom and a few moments later I heard you fussing. I emerged to find you on your stomach, fairly confused as to how you got there and unsure as to what to do. You'll figure it out soon enough. Yay!

Other developments I'm noticing: your head control is excellent, and your legs are wicked strong. You seem to be trying to sit up—when you're propped up against pillows, you strain to bring your head forward. You're still too floppy and unbalanced to do it on your own, but you seem to be trying. Also, you notice the dog now! And the cat. You watch them and smile and laugh. Speaking of smiling and laughing, you crack up every time you see your Grandpa Doug. Something about his face and his shiny head I guess...

You also seem to be noticing food, and the act of eating that goes along with it. It'll be awhile before you take part, but it's cool to see you raptly watching as the food goes to the mouth.

Aaaaand you're also totally making a sound that sounds like "mama." Just sayin'.

Our Daughter, the Keyboardist

2009-10-20T16:42:00.000-07:00

One Month, Two Months, Three Months, Wow!

2009-09-30T14:40:00.000-07:00

Jason likes to say that the most commonly used sentence in blogs is most likely "So I haven't written on this blog for a while, but..." (or some variation thereof), and he's probably write. In an effort to avoid that let's just get to the point(s): It's hard to do much of anything when you have a new baby (and a new house) but I think I'm finally feeling a little bit settled. And I want to keep people posted on Ivy Cat, and me, and us, and life, and I want to do it for you all, Dear Readers, and for us as well. Because one thing that everyone tells you when you have a baby is very, very true: It all goes so fast! I find myself trying to remember what Ivy was like last month, or 6 weeks ago, and it's almost impossible. Like when did she start smiling so much, and making all these sounds? And when did she start grabbing and reaching? And when the hell did she stop taking naps!?! (She's actually napping right now. Hence blogging. Exciting!) At the same time, I really am enjoying it all, every moment of it (that's the other thing that everyone tells you when you have a baby). I'll never stop being thankful that I get to spend all this time with her.

So here's what she's all about right now: smiling, reaching, grabbing soft toys/fabric, bringing soft toys/fabric to her mouth and sucking, grabbing hair, smiling, gurgling, making R2D2 noises, 'flapping her wings', wriggling, being naked, splashing in the bath, sleeping in the Ergo, eating her hands, chewing on her cloth book, staring at the ceiling fan, staring at her psychedelic mobile, getting her diaper changed, and staring intensely at our faces. And the faces of others. She'd stare at yours if you were here. And of course, she's into nursing. She's waaaay into that. Current favorite objects include two different cloth books, Sophie le Girafe, a stuffed rabbit, a purple cow rattle, a little wooden figure thing, bright green blanket, and a small stuffed fox (whose nose she sucks).

AND NOW WE MOVE!

2009-08-31T11:11:00.000-07:00

More soon, from our new home on Canon Ave.

SO MUCH!

2009-08-14T12:05:00.001-07:00

Ack! We are moving! We bought a house, we are packing, Jason is working, Ivy Cat is nursing, Buzz is sleeping, Henry's spazzing. Barbara and Doug are helping, Aubs is touring, painter is coming, floor guy is coming, we are learning, resting, multitasking. Why spread out major life changes when you can do them ALL AT ONCE?!

In other news: Ivy Cat's best friend has been born! Lara and Mitch welcomed Io Augusta Trale into the world on August 6—just over a week ago! Ivy and Io have hung out a few times, but have yet to really get deep.

Now I will go get Jason and go buy kitchen floors—Marmoleum!—and then pretend to pack for a while. Sigh. I hate packing. But I am beyond thrilled for our new home!

5 Weeks

2009-08-05T15:08:00.000-07:00

And 5 weeks has passed since this child was born. Almost exactly, in fact—it's 3:08pm, and she was born at 3:26. Amazing. It's seemed like forever, and it's flown by. She was born a million years ago and she just arrived yesterday. We're used to her, we know her, she is a total mystery. She is big—11 lbs now, and even taller, and her neck is getting stronger and she sleeps well at night and loves to eat and she smiles at us.

And we bought a house. We are moving in a month. This will be a very very busy month. I feel good and calm but very aware of all that we have to do. I love being home with Ivy, though it's hard to get much done.

How do those mommy bloggers do it?! I guess it gets easier and you settle into a routine and your brain gets less addled and mushy? I am getting good at using my feet to pick stuff up off the floor when I'm holding her so I don't have to bend down. If only I could pack with my toes...

Right now she's in her bassinet and I'm rocking it with my right foot. She's kind of napping, kind of grunting.

She Smiles!

2009-08-02T10:35:00.000-07:00

Magic

2009-07-27T19:18:00.000-07:00

Precious tiny creature. In the swing making sounds—like grunts and coos and a kind of squeak. Waving arms. Startling, the Moro Reflex, this primitive thing you do to protect against beasts and dinosaurs. A pure remnant of a long time ago. Little moving mouth, little moving eyes. I sat down to write here, finally, and then she began to cry in her swing and I cannot let her cry in her swing and so the writing was put off, and she laid in my arms and nursed until she fell asleep and I let her stay there, warm and soft with her mouth still open around my nipple. I spend a lot of time in this blue chair. The Giants game is on. We took a nap today, the three of us. She likes to sleep on her side and curl against us, her arms folded in front of her, one leg straight and one bent, the same way I like to sleep. The Giants score. The cat stares out the door. A stack of Thank Yous to write and oh how daunting that is. She squawks and tells me she'll soon tired of the swing. And so I'll stop this and scoop her up again. I am more than happy to do this. Here I come.

I Don't Even Know Where To Begin

2009-07-18T17:45:00.000-07:00

That's the problem with blogging, I guess. When you stop for a while, for whatever reason—say you had a baby, and couldn't do much but stare at her for several weeks—it's hard to start back up. You start to fret about what to write, how to catch up on everything, whether you need to detail all that's gone on or whether you can just skip a bunch of stuff. And really, it hasn't been that long—Ivy Cat is only 17 days old. We have had her for 17 days. We've been parents for 17 days. But oh how amazing these 17 days have been. How long and magnificent and unlike anything we've ever known. How quickly one can slide into an entirely new role, a new life, a completely new way of being and orienting and thinking and loving. 18 days ago I did not have a tiny creature rocking placidly in a swing next to me. I did not get up in the middle of the night to nurse a sweet sweet cooing baby (instead, I got up to pee). I did not know how unbelievably good babies smell, or how much we would love laying in bed with her in the morning, watching her make faces as she slowly wakes up. And I most definitely did not know how big my boobs would get, and how important those Lansinoh breast pads would be!

And there's so much more. This is such an amazing time of learning, both on our parts and on Ivy's part. Everyday is new information, new movements, new expressions, and new discoveries. Her poop changes, her coos and grunts change, she uses her hands more, she grabs at her toes. We get to know her better every day. Two nights ago we discovered that playing loud classic rock provokes instant calm and shut-eye in Ivy—so far Led Zeppelin's Physical Graffiti and the Stones' Exile on Main Street have put the kid to bed in like 3 seconds.

She's a good sleeper and she's not much of a crier—I mean, she cries, but she calms quickly. She's remarkably alert when she's not sleeping, and is an enthusiastic nurser, to say the least. She's getting perfectly chubby. Those cheeks and thighs. Sigh.

We can't stop taking pictures of this child—I'm putting them online at my Picasa site and also on my Facebook page.

So, Dear Readers, I am back, and ready to update you on every single development in Ivy Cat's life.

I'm kidding. I mean almost every single development.

Leave of Absence Due To Extraordinary Circumstances

2009-07-11T19:25:00.000-07:00

Dear Blog,

Extraordinary indeed! I'm sorry to have abandoned you, but I'm basking in the wonders, curiosities, discoveries, and challenges of brand new motherhood. A quick update is this: Ivy is 10 days old and totally amazing; we're in escrow on a house; our dear cat Stevie Nicks was struck and killed by a car; and I'm currently on psuedo-bedrest, due to prolonged post-partum bleeding brought on, most likely, by the fact that I have not 'taken it easy' since the birth. I've felt great and have been out and about, up and around, and that may have been too much. So this weekend I'm couch and bed-bound. Boring, but I'm trying to make the best of it while my mom and Jason wait on me and hold the Dear One.

Anyway, I'll be back soon, with so much to say.

Love,

Kate

SHE IS BORN

2009-07-03T21:29:00.001-07:00

And we are in love. More soon. Much, much more. But for now, just know that after a long, hard labor full of unexpected twists and turns, Ivy Catherine Schatz Pontius was born on Wednesday July 1, 2009, at 3:26 pm, weighing 8lbs 13oz and measuring 21.5 inches long. She is beyond gorgeous, has tons of light brown/blondish hair, and stunningly long fingers with fancy lady nails. We cannot get enough of her.

This Is It

2009-06-30T12:05:00.000-07:00

I am in labor! Early labor, to be exact. My mom just arrived—wait hold on I'm having a contraction—ok. Kim is here massaging me, Jenn brought delicious food, and Aubrey's walking Buzz. The cats are mellow. Oh my god Kim is massaging my feet. Joanna Newsom is playing. I'm having contractions every 4-5 minutes, lasting about 30-40 seconds. Had 'em all night. They're not too bad—I mean I don't love them, and they definitely hurt, but they go away. Amrit was here for a while earlier and is pleased with the progression of it all. Ivy's heart rate sounds great. I've received so many amazing loving supportive texts and Facebook comments and tweets and oh how modern is this? I am live blogging labor. Kim is rubbing my feet with coconut oil. So far, so good.

I will try to write more later...

I can't wait to meet this baby.

XO

What We Are Doing

2009-06-27T20:51:00.001-07:00

Dear Ivy Cat,

Guess what tomorrow is? Oh, what? You can't guess, because you are still inside me and that makes cognitive processes like guessing quite challenging? Ok, fair enough. I'll tell you.

Tomorrow is June 28th, your due date.

Now, your dad and I haven't put much stock in this date—it seems arbitrarily decided, based as it is on the first day of my last menstrual period (September 21st, 2008—so long ago!) and not on the day we're pretty sure you were conceived (September 28th or Oct 1st, one of the two). But it's still a date that's been in our brains for some time now, and though we've never expected you to come on your due date (a very small % of babies arrive on their actual EDD) we do know that you're coming very soon. You're snuggled way down low, and you've been that way for some time now. And for the past few days, I've been getting increasingly less comfortable, and am experiencing more intense pre-contractions, more shooting inner thigh pain, and more frequent and intense pressure and pain on my cervix (it feels like getting a PAP smear, but in reverse. Ivy, that will not make sense to you until you're a teenager and you start getting annual exams. OMG you will be a teenager. Eek!) I get tired faster and don't last as long on my feet. I just also just feel...different. In a way I can't quite describe. A way that seems to indicate that you're getting close to coming on out.

(Also, today is June 27th, which means it's been 9 months since your dad and I got married. Best 9 months of our lives.)

So, I thought I'd let you know what we're doing while we wait for you to arrive.

I am resting and sleeping a lot, conserving my energy for our labor.

I started sleeping on the guest bed, in the back room, because it's a lot softer than our bed, and it's much easier on my hips. I can sleep in late now, which is fantastic. Your dad sleeps in there with me, on the floor on a bed I made him, because even though I want to be in the bed alone, we like to be near each other when we sleep. Plus I find the back room a tiny bit scary at night.

We went to IKEA and bought you a stuffed crab, because you are going to be a Cancer. This crab has been a favorite of ours for a long time (Una has one) and it is very soft and squishy (unlike real crabs, which are hard-shelled and pinchy).

We've seen some movies. Star Trek and The Hangover and Away We Go, which was pretty much made for us, for this point in our lives.

I send emails and read blogs and check and update Facebook and Twitter. Those things might seems incredibly antiquated to you by the time you can read. As will this blog. You should see the big, huge, heavy laptop that I'm typing this on.

I am reading my favorite children's books to your dad, as he is less well-versed in the wonders of these books than I am.
We are watching lots of Giants games.

We go for walks, and sometimes I swim.

We watch TV, but we also listen to music, and sometimes silence.

We talk on the phone and hang out with our friends and family members who are very, very excited for you to arrive. Everyone's asking about you.

I am keeping your dad posted on all sensations and twinges and pains and movements.

We are listening to lots of Michael Jackson, because he died very unexp ectedly and we both love his music and grew up listening to it.

We are practicing diapering and swaddling on a stuffed elephant. It's about the right size (though you will not have a trunk).

Your dad is helping me tremendously by doing things around the house that I can't really do on account of being about to have a baby and all.

He's also cooking me dinner right now, which is excellent, as I'm really hungry.

On that note, I'm gonna go help him along. And pour myself a glass of wine.

See you soon, love.

XOXOXO

Una's Advice

2009-06-27T20:16:00.000-07:00

Our dear friend Tonya asked Una, her 4-year old daughter, aka our lovely Flower Girl, aka the Smartest Four Year Old On Earth, what advice she has for Jason and I and Ivy Cat. And here are her wise words, as transcribed and emailed by Tonya:

She needs a bottle.
She needs a cradle.
She needs baby toys.
She needs to be fed.
She needs loving and kisses and hugs.
You need to be careful.
You need to watch over her.
You need to make sure she doesn't fall off the slides or the swings when she goes to the park. You need to make sure she doesn't stay outside when it is a thundering, lightening, and rainy day.

Thank you, Una. I think these are all very, very good suggestions.

Sigh.

2009-06-24T13:01:00.000-07:00

Oh Jason, you wonderful wonderful man!

He did indeed play me a song after I finished reading his post. It is a beautiful song, and I cried and cried. Jason is a very talented songwriter. And a very good husband. Right now he's working super hard, trying to get as much work done as possible in advance of Ivy's arrival. We're incredibly lucky that his work schedule is so flexible—he plans to be home for a few weeks, and then gradually ease back into working from home, and from the office (which is about 5 minutes from our house). He's in the kitchen on a conference call at this very moment and I would just like to say how totally thoroughly proud I am of him and the incredible company and career he's built for himself, and for his fabulous employees—who are also our very good friends. When I first met him White Whale was just him and Alex and this intern-y kid and they did websites for local bakeries and bands. It was legit work, and they'd done some work for Brown and RISD too, but it was still pretty scattershot and random. Almost five years later and he's the head of one of the top higher ed web design companies in the country, with a seriously impressive client list that includes some of the top-ranked universities. He rides his bike to the office, he has conference calls from our kitchen, and sometimes he video-chats in his underwear (shhh, don't tell. He wears a shirt.) He works super hard, and yes, he thinks about work quite a bit—but he's not consumed by it, he doesn't slave away for a boss he hates, in a cubicle he hates, it doesn't rot his soul or rule his world, he loves the people he works with, and he gets to do what he loves to do, which is be really smart and have big awesome ideas. And, he will get to be a very present, very available dad. Which is so, so important.

My sister and I were incredibly lucky to grow up with a dad who got home from work around 3pm (he went to work at 5am)—he was always home after school, and he was involved and active and fun and he definitely left work at work. I'm so grateful for that. And now he's retired and he does triathalons and gardens and explores the bikes trails of San Jose with his cousins and feeds Jay, his pet bluejay. And he's very excited to be a grandpa. So, a belated blog THANK YOU to Doug for being an outstanding father.

And finally, here's a picture from this weekend—from Father's Day, in fact. We went to Jen's (the cute one on the left in the blue dress) baby shower/birthday party/Solstice/Father's Day BBQ in Richmond, and, of course, the preg ladies had to line up for a photo shoot. We are indeed in order of due date, with me definitely leading the pack. From the left we have Jen, mama-to-be of Ginger Crash; Lan, mama-to-be of an as-yet-unnamed boy; Kitty, mama-to-be of Tallulah; Geeta, mama-to-be of Ari; and moi, mama-to-be of Miss Ivy Cat, who, after squirming intensely for the entire duration of this blog post, seems to have fallen asleep. Thanks for that, dear. You were all up in my ribs.

Father's Day

2009-06-21T22:43:00.001-07:00

So first of all, I've been meaning to write a guest post on Kate's blog for ages. But, I mean, it's intimidating! I can rattle off 800 words about Twitter at the drop of a hat (proof) but when it comes to writing about the stuff that really matters— not the work stuff but the home stuff, the stuff people that don't really know us don't know— I freeze up.

You can't blame me; my wife is an amazing writer. Following this blog myself has given me yet another window into the world she's living in; we spend a lot of time together, so I'm usually up on the facts (although the calendar thing was a surprise to me). But to see how she frames it for you, the reader— how she turns an experience that, holy crap, has got to be essentially unwriteable, into lucid, engaging, interesting writing, that's a miracle to me. If you're a regular reader of this weblog, you know that she's got two modes: sometimes she's chatty and dishy and practical about pregnancy and motherhood, and other times she lets herself go and pours out pure magic, streams of consciousness, Web literature. The fact that she is both of these ways in person too is why I love her.

Anyway— so here we are, Father's Day, on the verge of Part Two of both our lives, and I can't get out of writing on this thing any longer. So here are a couple of notes from, um, a dad's perspective.

For Kate, her pregnancy is about our daughter. For me, it's about Kate. That's a weird thing to say, but it seems right. Obviously Kate's the one with the physical connection; pardon the obvious statement, but she is growing a new person inside her. I can't wait for Ivy to be born; especially as the day gets closer, the feeling gets bigger and bigger. But it's a theoretical feeling, kind of. I know this new thing is coming, and I'm ready for it, but I have no sense of what it's going to feel like.

(This doesn't bother me. It seems like a lot of literature for "first-time dads" is all about how we have to be prepared to be a sidekick in the early child development phase, or to deal with pregnancy being more about the mother and child than it is the father. But, I mean, that's obvious, right? My time will come.)

What I do know is that this process has profoundly affected how I see, and feel about, Kate.

We've known we wanted kids for a long time. (Kate made up the name Ivy Cat in a text message in 2005.) But we haven't really known what that meant. Saying "I want to have a child with you" is basically the same thing as saying "I want to spend my life with you," just a little more graphic. We've known for a while now that we wanted to spend our lives together, so talking about kids was just a natural extension of that expression.

But now it's different. Over the last nine months I have watched Kate become a mother— and the amazing thing is, she's become a mother without losing any of the sweet, funny, dorky, juvenile, raucous things that I liked about her in the first place. Watching her transform both physically and— metaphysically?— has been a transformative process for me as well. It's her that's turning me into a father— not the child we're about to have. We're parents already. And shit, we are going to be such awesome parents!

It's Father's Day, and I found myself celebrating it in some pretty conventional ways. Kate cooked bacon (not easy for her), I used power tools, read the Sunday paper. But what we're really celebrating, I suppose, is the end of non-fatherly concerns; one of the last days where I don't have to worry about a single thing except my damn self. (Which is worry enough, but hey, that's a different post, if not a different blog.) The funny thing about it is that the process of becoming a father— which absolutely begins the day you find out she's pregnant— has already led me to a place where selfishness feels kind of silly. Unnecessary.

I mean, sure. Ask me if I'm feeling selfish once I'm knee deep in shitty diapers. I might be. But for now, in this magic place, basically 99% of the way towards fatherhood, I feel much more like part of a thing than I ever have before.

And now that I've written on her blog, I'm going to go play her a song.

It Finally Got Nice + Hot Out

2009-06-19T16:59:00.000-07:00

Hi Everyone!

I have not had a baby yet. I promise I will let you know. She will be here soon, that's all we know (never has the word 'soon' seemed so vague). I am feeling excellent—after a week of laying around, napping, reading, and generally loafing, I finally got bored yesterday and made myself do stuff (errand running, shopping, dog walk, and a swim in Lake Temescal). I felt energetic and happy, though by the end of the evening I was very ache-y in the groin, and started to really sense her presence atop my cervix in a very intense and not altogether pleasant way. That feeling continues today—it's not a constant discomfort, but it definitely comes and goes and when it comes, it hurts. So yay! I think moving around made her drop even lower (how is this even possible?) I will continue to move around this weekend, which involves two showers (bride for Dana tomorrow; baby for Jen Loy on Sunday). Aubs returns from her Outstanding in the Field trip on Monday—we're assuming Ivy'll wait until then.

So anyway. Jason's using power tools on the porch because he's making bathroom shelves. I've turned into a total neat-freak—clutter of any sort drives me crazy, and I had the housecleaners come back and reclean because they did an unsatisfactory job (I felt like such a mean old rich lady doing this, but seriously, I paid them a lot of money and they did a crappy job!) Today I went to Alameda and bought a nursing bra, and two 'night bras' (you have to wear bras at night after you have a baby? Who knew?) They are not remotely sexy, but they are majorly comfy. So, there ya go. And really, everything's in place.

The birth tub is set-up. Test run was a success, and I spent several nights floating about in it, loving it very very much. Now it is drained, and awaiting labor.

Text message groups have been made to ensure easy labor notification for all interested friends and family; Important Phone Numbers list is made, and is on the fridge; email group has been made so we can send out epic post-birth OMG OUR BABY IS SO CUTE email.

My Labor Mix has been created—14+ hours of favorite mellow songs.

Jason is planning his Twitter birth announcement, and I'm visualizing the birth, as well as the 1st family photo (can we possibly get both cats, the dog, the baby, and us to be still for a picture? Will I be able to tolerate such an abundance of squirming, excitable life energies?)

In general, everyone's on alert. Every time I call my mom or sister or Jason, they assume it's 'the call.' I've told them I promise it'll be the very first thing I say when they answer.

My sleeping is better, though I now wake every hour to pee. Though for some reason, there tends to be a 2-hour period between 3 and 5 where I don't wake. This is a nice period.

Aaaaaand now I'm going to make a galette. Peach, plum + nectarine. A galette is a good thing when you don't want to worry about an attractive crust. That's more Advice for Ivy right there.

Aaaaaand actually maybe I'll take a nap instead.

Advice For Ivy Cat

2009-06-13T11:17:00.000-07:00

My new favorite blog is 500 Pieces of Prudent Advice For My Baby Daughter (thanks for the link, Taryn!) I pretty much agree with every single one (except for #76 and #87. Cuz I think chopping off your hair—even impulsively—can be awesome; and as we all know, not every lady needs a bra) and I love the author's (one Jamie Morrison Curtis) inclusion of art + poetry + quotes. Reading it made me weep (especially #19) and think (#63, #44) and smile (#72, #43) and nod in agreement (#82, #31) and it also reminded me that, a few months ago, I started my own list of advice for my daughter.

So here is my list, and I am blatantly copying Jamie by including accompanying images. It's so overwhelming and amazing and wild to think about what we can and will teach her—and what she can and will teach us. And also—please feel free to add your advice! Even though I like to act like it, I don't know everything.

ADVICE FOR IVY CAT

Little Creature, you will always be so small and so huge at the same time; this mirrors our world, which is a giant tiny place.

Everything you do matters; everything you touch feels it.

Not everything has a beginning, middle, and end, even though we often want this to be the case.

Trust + honor women. "Feminism" is not a dirty word. (Your mom's one.)

Judy Chicago, The Dinner Party

It is fun to go very very fast and very very slow. To bounce off the walls and lay quite still.

Know your histories, both personal and familial, as well as cultural and political. You come from complex, fascinating people: farmers, ranchers, beer makers, car salesmen, engineers, teachers, artists, writers, musicians, hippies.

You also come from a troubled yet wonderful nation. Learn about the good and the bad.

Your dad met the President!

Kara Walker, Slavery! Slavery! Slavery!

Record yourself talking for hours on end. Read, make up stories, interview yourself. You are unbelievably interesting.

If you fight for anything, fight for justice, for love, and for your rights.

Sliced peaches in a baking dish; add brown sugar, butter, cinnamon. Bake and eat with ice cream.

Be mindful during your rebellions.

Any open space can be a million different things

If you capture an insect, place it kindly in a jar; use a hammer and nail to make holes in the metal lid. Provide sticks and leaves and put it on your windowsill. Spend a hour or so watching it move its strange fuzzy body up and down the stick. Then let it go. Always let it go..

Louise Bourgeois, Spider

Listen to any and all kinds of music. Then make your own.

Run races with anyone willing. Feel so so fast.

Try very hard to not hold grudges, and to not sever ties with those you love. It's almost never worth it. Forgiveness is hard, but so so important.

People older than you have many stories to tell you. Please listen to them; they have much to teach you, and when you’re their age, you’ll want younger ones to listen to you.

Imogen Cunningham, Imogen Cunningham and Twinka

Write your name in secret hidden places.

Make grand pies from mud, and entire cities from sand.

Be a careful and kind friend to animals, even the ones that bite. But try not to get bitten.

Read everything you see that has words on it. Cereal boxes, street signs, instruction manuals, newspapers, recipes. You will eventually understand (most of) it.

Many of the best ideas, artworks, songs, poems, and concepts are the result of experimentation. Take risks, allow for error, do things no one else is doing.

Pablo Picasso, Gertrude Stein

Learn which secrets are good to keep, and which ones you should let go. Some secrets are special and just for you; others are meant to be shared, and can make you feel funny if you hold them in for too long.

Always, always stand up for yourself. Even when the person before you is a powerful grown-up. This includes me, and your father, and your grandparents, and your teachers. You will not always win, or get to do what you want, but you should always say what you believe is right.

I totally support your right to protest—just be smart and alert. Don't go alone, and know where the cops are.

Every season is exciting. Fall has crunchy leaves, crisp air, good smells, and school again. Winter is cozy and Christmas and sometimes iced over water. Spring brings baseball and flowers and warm dirt and flowers. And summer is…well, summer is just magic.

Frida Kahlo, Viva La Vida

Know what you like, and what you don’t, but always try new things. Like food. It’s important to try new foods. I didn’t like eggs until just a few years ago, and I’m still working on cheddar cheese. (I still don’t like baby corn, though.)

If you are going to talk about someone, think to yourself: Would I say this if he or she were in the room? If not, it’s probably better left unsaid.

Kids can be cruel; this is a fact. But you don’t have to be; this is also a fact.

Play lots and lots of dress-up. You can be anyone you want with a few scarves, some grown-up jewelry, and a big box of old clothes.

Amy Cutler, Dinner Party

If you stay in the bath too long, you’ll get prune hands, but you’ll also have fun.

You’re beautiful like birds taking flight across a February sky. Like clear winter sun on somebody’s shoulder; a grey cat stretched across a sofa; tiny budding flowers. A gentle nap on the day that I learned that you’re you. Beautiful like the visions we have of your future.

And really, darling, all you need is love.

New Sensations

2009-06-13T11:07:00.000-07:00

I'm definitely having new sensations every day. Two nights ago I slept poorly; my hips were killing me in a way that felt different from other painful-hip nights. The discomfort was located in the hips, but it radiated out and across my lower belly—like menstrual cramps, which is how early labor pains are generally described. So upon waking and feeling this, I laid in bed for a while, wondering if this was indeed the beginnings of labor. But despite the sensations, I knew it wasn't labor, and I didn't feel scared or nervous. Restless, yes; uncomfortable, yes. But not scared. When I got up to pee, the pain subsided, so I figured it was just round ligament pain, or some other new thing to feel. It was interesting, though, to lay there in the quiet dark, feeling this new unpleasantness, and just being with it, wondering about it, letting it happen. At one point I got up and stretched and squatted and kind of wandered around the house, since neither side was tolerable for sleeping. And I felt comfortable with this middle-of-the-night ghost-y wandering, and I saw it as a taste of what's to come. Having to get up and pee and having sleeping-on-my-hip pain has given me a sleep schedule that, I imagine, may come close to approximating my future sleep schedule—granted, when I wake up to pee all I do is pee, and then go back to sleep (or attempt to). I'm not nursing a fussy baby or rocking in a chair for an hour. But I waking up every 1-2 hrs, and I am relatively cognizant during the waking time, as is Jason. We both like to sleep, but I do feel like we're good at waking up and being alert right away, not all draggy and miserable.

Every day I continue to feel new-ish things. Kind of hard to describe, but I just feel...different. I can tell that she's lower, and I'm feeling increasing pressure on my groin, and more of the twinge-y shoot-y pains. Most of all, though, the Braxton-Hicks contractions are increasing in frequency and strength—I get them pretty much every time I do something that requires physical effort. Yesterday I walked Buzz down to Gaylord's, my coffeeshop of choice, and what is normally a quick easy jaunt was, for sure, a challenging and slow trek. On the way back there is a small hill and I had to pause several times to let the contractions subside. They're not painful (though there was a bit of discomfort on the hill), just really strong.

Last night I slept quite well, no hip pain, just waking every hour to pee. Lower baby = smaller bladder. The Ever-Shrinking Bladder. Like my Ever-Shrinking (But Not Popping Out!) Bellybutton. I kind of don't think it'll pop. It's close, though. And so so tiny.

So so mellow

2009-06-11T19:18:00.000-07:00

Well. Here we are. Homestretch. Two weeks? Three weeks? One week? We'll see. Mostly, these days, I am: napping, reading, walking slow. Aching, stretching, lying on the couch. Watching baseball, looking at the internet. Dust-Bustering cat furballs. Thinking about having a baby. Running small easy errands. Sleeping. Smiling. Emailing. Sometimes crying. Feeling Ivy move down and down and squirm and poke. Nesting hardcore.

Today I woke up at 7am and spent about 40 minutes thinking about what needs to be done in the house to prepare it for birth + baby. So much is already done, and it is pretty clean, but this is the nesting thing, I realize, and I could not go back to sleep until I'd visualized every room in the house in its ideal, clean, prepared state. Luckily Ruby came down for Jason's birthday, and she stuck around and helped me tremendously.

The baby room is temporarily the birth room—we've set up the birth tub, and Ruby helped me move stuff out of it and get it clean and organized. She also helped me move our bed and eliminate Jason's bedside table (sorry dear) to make room for the amazing beautiful bassinet that Jenn made (made!) for us. (Well, for Ivy, really.) And Aubs came over and hung up curtains in our living room to make it more private, and Jason is currently doing the dishes. Yay, help! Learning to ask for it. Because I do need it.

Yesterday was Jason's birthday and his gift from me was something he's mentioned several times over the course of our relationship, long before we'd made any sort of baby-having plans: matching monkey suits for him and his child. You know, for Halloween, or just hanging out, being matching monkeys. So I commissioned Mali, Aubrey's terribly talented roommate and pal, to make 'em. And they are awesome and adorable and Jason looks so cute. I had her make Ivy's costume fairly large, more toddler-sized than infant-sized, so that she'll be able to grow into it. I cannot wait to see them both in full monkey regalia.

Amrit was here yesterday, and everything is proceeding apace: Ivy's "snuggling" down lower, as she puts it, dropping gradually rather than in one fell swoop. Amniotic fluid levels are great; blood pressure's great; everything seems to be the right size; and Ivy's heart rates are excellent. Now, we just wait.

I am enjoying this waiting. Not feeling anxiety or worry or 'when will it happen?!' Just trying to be peaceful and calm and enjoy every moment as it is, as it comes. Happiest birthday dear Jason!

More Healdsburg pics!

2009-06-09T10:36:00.001-07:00

Jason and Aubs lounging on the lawn
Awww. Love + a beautiful plate of food = total bliss
Hands-on w/ Dan, Kelli and Jason
Hi Buzz.
Lovely Julia, lovely Ruby, lovely me, lovely sun
Me, Aubs, Ruby w/ muddled magic cocktails
The men by their fire

Thanks for the pics Julia! More can be found here.

New camera, other pics

2009-06-05T13:38:00.000-07:00

I'm not that crazy about the pics I took at the showers, as I cannot stand my crappy digital camera. Julia took a ton of great ones, and when she gets em up on Picasa I'll include a link here. Mr. Long-lost-and-now-found-again-friend Mike Semas took some great ones in San Jose, and has them up here. To rectify the camera issue, I went to Best Buy yesterday and bought a fancy new one, about which I'm very excited. I shall take new amazing photos and post them and you'll all be amazed by the incredible difference that the new camera makes.

I felt very, very pregnant while in Best Buy. After about 45 seconds of standing in the Return line, where I was returning a router for Jason, I became exhausted, and totally irritated that they didn't provide a chair for pregnant ladies forced to stand in this hellish line. The same sentiment overcame me a bit later, once I'd waddled all the way to the restroom, and then all the way to the camera section, where I stood like a moron, staring at a sea of digital cameras for like five minutes without anyone coming to assist me. I want a chair to sit in! I thought, brimming with a fiery sense of pregnant entitlement. Why is there no CHAIR?!? Don't they know that my entire groin aches and my legs are tired and the groin ache sometimes radiates down the legs and I cannot just stand here like a normal customer?

Then I went for a swim, which greatly relieved all groin and hip discomfort. Upon arriving home, though, it was book-and-couch-and-Giants-game-city for several hours. I couldn't handle another errand. When Jason arrived home I quickly discovered that, in addition to feeling the physical intensity of the baby, I was really feeling the emotional intensity as well. This was most evident when I started to cry because he left an empty popsicle box on a shelf instead of immediately recycling it, and again when I cried because he asked "What are you doing?" when I was g-chatting w/ Rachel; I managed to take this as some kind of accusation, rather than a pretty innocuous question, and so cried. And we then had a good discussion about giving me a bit of extra room to be irrational and weepy and snappy. Cuz this shit is crazy, man.

And then we ate a delicious dinner and put away baby shower gifts in the baby room. Or rather, I sat on the bed and told him where to put things.

I love you, Jason. You are the best.

Finally, some shower pictures!

2009-06-05T13:25:00.000-07:00

JP, Buzz and I in front of one of my dad's many sheds.
Mom, Aubs and I post-shower, after I'd changed into my regular preg uniform of tank top and stretchy green pants.

Dana and I and Liony, my beloved stuffed lion. Somewhere along the line he lost all his stuffing; my mom refilled him, sewed him up, and now he's good to go.
Me and the fabulous Madeleine. She liked my necklace.
Insane amount of gits. Thanks everyone!
My dad worked quite hard on the yard, to great effect. Note that all brightly colored chairs are former crappy white plastic chairs that Doug transformed using spray paint! Amazing!
Some baby pics of Jason and I, and the Open Letters to Ivy Cat booklets that Ruby made. They're now filled with amazing messages of love from many friends and family members. So so great.
Gramma Judy had personalized M&Ms made.
Grammas in the kitchen!
The Sunday brunch at Ruby's. OMG. OMFG.
Blurry Jason and I.
The Infamous Muddled Cocktail Bar before it was ravaged by muddlers.
Cutest decorated gazebo ever. The hanging onesies spell out IVY CAT. Julia is attaching the papal picadas that were bright and awesome.
The most wonderful host and party planner, Ruby, the most wonderful friend and helper Julia, the most wonderful fruit snack and belly-sized object, watermelon, and me.

We're Heading For Venus...

2009-06-03T10:36:00.000-07:00

Now it is June, our Birth Month! Almost certainly our Birth Month, the month in which Ivy Cat is born, emerges, comes out, says hello, becomes real, manifests, presents herself, leaves her comfy womb zone. The month during which I am a mellow starfish, clinging calmly to the couch, this chair, the house. A koala, sensitive and vulnerable and content in my eucalyptus tree, eating my comfort foods (Trader Joe's Caribbean Floe popsicles, avocados, nectarines and peaches, Grape-Nuts and strawberries, ice cream, etc). A mama bird, nesting and nesting, arranging and organizing and washing and preparing. And maybe like a cat too—a tiny bit skittish and alert and protective and obsessive about maintaining a clean living environment, but still into cuddling and being affectionate and awesome when it's convenient and comfortable. And, um, what's an animal that cries all the time and has a huge belly and gets tired easily and has heartburn but still loves being pregnant and is totally enamored of her amazing husband and her morphing body and her awesome friends and who just had two wondrous baby showers and felt totally truly showered with love and support and who is now hunkering down, conserving energy, awaiting her baby, savoring these last moments of privacy and tranquility and just-the-two-of-us-ness, because, in the immortal words of Europe, things will never be the same again ?

That would be me, the animal known as Kate.

We are now technically one month from the due date...

2009-05-28T13:47:00.000-07:00

Dear dear neglected blog! So sorry to abandon you for over a week, but I have busy with various things, including hanging out with Kelli who's in town from Providence, enjoying the most wondrous four-day excursion to Ruby and John's paradise in Healdsburg, and navigating some new and not-so-awesome preg effects. I feel like things have changed much in the past few weeks and it's hard to know where to start. Basically, we're in the home stretch now. As in, this baby's coming soon, and I'm feeling it. And that's actually a good place to start...

We saw Amrit last Thursday, and after a great visit (during which we went over the finer points of what to expect when labor begins, when to call her, what to prepare for, etc) it was time to feel the baby. When she went to feel Ivy's head, she couldn't find it (I was only worried that she'd somehow become headless for about .2 seconds)—then she moved her hands down further, pressed deeper and deeper into my pelvis, and said aha (or something like that). Then she looked at us and said Well. I think we're having this baby sooner than we think! And Jason and I said oh really?!? Basically, Ivy is very, very low, very much in the ready-to-be-born position, and Amrit thinks this indicates that she'll probably come sooner than June 28th, the Official EDD (which we've always found to be somewhat spurious, based as it is on the first day of my last period, and not when we think we actually conceived). Amrit was careful to point out that you never know, and that Ivy could just be incredibly well organized and prepared, and might stick around for a while. But! She also predicts that this will NOT be a July baby, and that as of, say, June 7th or so, we should have all our ducks in a row and be prepared for the Big Day. I feel great about all this, and was happy to learn yesterday that we can get our birth tub a week earlier (June 7th in fact). Just in case. It's worth mentioning here that the psychic mystic hippies that Jason and I met in the woods in Hawaii in December (the ones who told me it's a girl and sang crazy blessing chants to my belly) also told us that "I'm more pregnant than I think" and that we're "having this baby sooner" than the end of June. And I kind of intensely believe in those two trippy stoner women. (If they're right, I'm flying back to the Big Island and getting some more life predictions...)
The day after this visit, Jason and I headed up to Healdsburg to see Ruby, John, Julia, and Todd, and to help prepare for the weekend. I met up with them at the Future Farmers of America Fair, and we wandered around admiring baby animals and livestock (no fear of swine flu amongst the FFA crowd!); Julia and Todd were thrilled to have joined John and Ruby on the Healdsburg Fire Dept. truck in the FFA parade the previous day. (Especially Todd, who handed out candy to innocent children whilst sporting his scruffy beard and Truck Stop Spirit Animal t-shirt.) And then we went back to Ruby's, where I remained in a state of utter awe and joy for the next several days. Let me just say: RUBY AND JOHN CAN THROW A PARTY. I mean, really. REALLY. Ruby's party prep skills, her attention to detail, the generosity that those two possess...it's all unreal. Their house looked gorgeous, the pizza oven was all ready to go, there was an unbelievable amount of delicious food, and everything was so freaking organized and well-orchestrated. The muddled cocktail bar was ready to go, the veggies were grilled and arranged just so, the dips and spreads and breads were ready. And the sweet, thoughtful touches were everywhere—the personalized Ivy Cat growth chart that Ruby got us; the 'Open Letters to Ivy Cat' notebooks that were set out for people to write letters in (and they did, and I've read them, and I've cried); the onesies hung up on a clothesline with stenciled letters on them that spelled out I V Y C A T...So so so wonderful. Aubs and Mali joined us and everyone pitched in and helped set up, food prep, beer drink, etc. Julia and Todd hung stuff, replaced sod, and did all kinds of other epic yardwork. I helped by napping and drinking water and peeing. I also made pizza dough and we did some trial runs in the oven. And then Saturday rolled around, and the fog burned off around noon, exposing glorious magical sun. Our guests began to arrive around 1 (clad in sweaters and flannels, for it was weirdly freezing down in the Bay) and by around 3 we were grilling pizzas and playing Baggo (courtesy of Lara and Mitch, who always roll with the fun lawn sports) and it was this amazing gathering of some of my favorite people ever, all relaxing and hanging and drinking and eating and being happy and sweet and awesome. Erin and Scott came over with Baby Trent, who is 3 weeks old and so tiny and cute and we got to do some holding and cradling and ogling and 'whoa this is gonna be us!' The dogs were in heaven, racing around and exploring the river. The pizzas were incredible; my favorite was a sweet pizza with peaches, strawberries, candied nuts, honey, and goat and blue cheese. OMG. The muddled cocktail bar was ridiculous, and excellent for non-boozers too—I think my fave there was muddled cilantro and basil w/ lime juice, jalapeno, and mango juice. So we played and played all day, watched some Lakers, ate and ate and ate and ate, sat around the firepit, and adored each other. I crashed early, and many guests stayed in Tent City, which was set up in the back. Sunday kicked off with a mind-blowing brunch featuring my favorite foccacia ever from Downtown Bakery that Ruby special-ordered, because she's a magical gem of a friend, and there were amazing scrambled eggs and guac a la Julia, and salsa a la Chuck, and breakfast potatoes (BEST EVER) a la John, and pastries and fruit and juice and champagne and aaaaahhhhhhh. And then! More hanging! River time! Tri-tip BBQ lunch in the redwood grove! More Baggo! Lounging in the sun! Nap! Yes. Most folks departed late Sunday afternoon, and by Sunday night it was down to the core crew. We were completely exhausted and flopped on the couch to watch sports (to John's chagrin) and Ricky Gervais' stand-up DVD (to John's giddy delight). Ruby made us YET ANOTHER meal and we all passed out early. The following morning involved another huge breakfast (we went out, this time), more lounging and friend-appreciating, and then we finally tore ourselves away and headed home. It really was such an incredible time, a little wedding reunion with the same wondrous vibes of love and appreciation. And again, the thing that makes me so happy: seeing my friends be friends with each other, watching them connect and talk and enjoy each other as much as I enjoy them. Despite our no-gift request, some people couldn't resist, and brought the loveliest, sweet things. Ivy will be so psyched on her Santa Cruz onesie and hoodie, her Made in California t-shirt, her bird song book, her whale mobile, her wooden rattle, her soft green blanket, her apple-printed swaddling blanket, her gorgeous white cotton dress, her pigeon onesie, and everything else. (And I will be psyched on the nursing pads—thanks Erin!) Everyone wrote the sweetest letters to Ivy in the notebooks, and I felt so loved and supported and excited to bring this child into such an amazing community of people. She will have no shortage of doting aunties and uncles, that's for damn sure. It also felt great to have the chance to spend time with friends before we kind of disappear for a while...after this weekend, which is Shower #2, in San Jo, I think we're gonna be ready to begin to retreat, to slow down, to rest up. Not that we're going into hiding, but it'll be time to retract a bit, to hunker down...
Which does bring me to the fact that, after months and months of total bliss and close to zero complaints, I'm finally starting to, well, feel it. The PUPPP is getting better and is going away, and though I've found a few itchy spots on my hip, they don't bug me that much, and don't seem to be expanding or spreading. I exposed the belly to a lot of sun over the weekend, and I think it was good for the PUPPP. But I've been having a lot of trouble sleeping, as I wake up and my hips hurt and my body feels all tense and sore and I have to turn from side to side constantly. HOWEVER, the past two nights have been great, thanks, I think, to swimming and hiking on Tuesday, and to the amazing bodywork that Kim did on me last night. She worked the sh*t out of my hip joints, really dug in there and ooooo it hurt, but I breathed through it, knowing it was worth it, and I woke up today feeling great. I might need her to come over every night...But in general, I'm slowing down a lot. After too much exertion (and by exertion I mean walking around the house, bending down once or twice, getting up from a seated position, etc. Not like actual exertion) I get pretty intense Braxton-Hicks contractions and have to chill for a bit. I went for a hike with two new pregs on Tuesday, Leila and Maria, both of whom are due end of July (along with every other preg I know, except Kate H!), and they were both jetting along and I was Slowy McSlowerson, with my groin pain and crampy leg. I felt like a jaded old lady, all oh you just wait until you're 36 weeks along, you'll feel it then kiddo! (Despite lagging, it was a great hike, with two delightful new preg friends and Leila's sweet dog Sammy, who was a good companion for Buzz) Anyway. Groin pain! Got it. She's all over my pelvis, and I'm feeling that. Sometimes I get twinge-y pains in my groin/pelvis, which could be from her grinding her head on my pubic bone I believe. Again, I'm not in any major pain, nor is anything consistently uncomfortable, and I am certainly not miserable. But I am feeling this. I am definitely definitely very pregnant. I am definitely having this baby soon.
On that note, her movements are totally insane and alien-like and kind of freaky and she does this thing I call Serpent Elbow, or Serpent Foot, where she pushes against my side and it looks like a damn serpent under my skin, some kind of alien monster snake rising up and trying to escape the prison of my belly. As I've said before, I love feeling her move around, but jesus, it really freaks me out sometimes. It's also becoming uncomfortable, as she gets bigger and stronger—I'm getting rib jabs now, and if she doesn't like the way I'm sleeping, she lets me know by pummelling me until I roll over. She has opinions! I love it. Really, I do.
And in closing, this weekend is Shower #2, at my parents' place, and I am thrilled for this one too. Family and family friends will be in effect, including Liza and Madeleine, who are coming down from Seattle for the occasion. Uncle Howard's in from Park City, which is fantastic (we had to ensure him that there will be beer and other men present) and Jason's dad and stepmom and mom are all coming in too. Doug's been working hard on the yard, beautifying it extensively, and Barb is planning away. As with Ruby's shower, there will be little to no 'shower-y' elements, just friends and family and food and drink and lots and lots of love and excitement.
Finally, I f*cking LOVE nectarines right now. If you love me, buy me a nectarine. Have a truckload of nectarines delivered to my house. Plant a mature, fruiting nectarine tree in my bedroom. Plant an orchard. They are so so so good.
P.S. Shower pics coming soon! The ones Julia took are best, so I'm waiting for her to put 'em up on Flickr...

PUPPP n stuff

2009-05-19T17:04:00.000-07:00

Behold, my PUPPP. Or, my pruritic urticarial papules and plaques of pregnancy. (If I lived in the UK, you would be beholding my PEP: polymorphic eruptions of pregnancy). Basically, in layman's terms, it's a skin rash that some preg women get in the 3rd trimester that is harmless to mama and baby but itchy as f*ck. It starts on the belly and sometimes spreads, and they are little red hive-like blistery things that you want to claw at, but you do not claw at them, because that would be bad. Instead you put expired Calamine on them, and a homeopathic topical goo that is soothing. And you take an oatmeal bath but realize once you get in that the part of your belly that has the PUPPP is the part of your belly that the water doesn't cover. So you awkwardly lie on your side, kind of, and then you kind of hunch over for a bit, and then you soak the washcloth in oatmeal-y water and lay it over the PUPPP and then you just sigh and get out. Anyway. A Google image search for PUPPP has assured me that I have nowhere near a bad case of this, as the pics that show up are hideous and horrendous and terrifying and make me pleased with my small rash that is, for now knock on wood, not spreading. Though I found one near my hip yesterday. Grrr. Again, it's harmless, I am not in any danger, I just have a lame rash that looks gross.

Luckily, I did my America's Next Top Pregnant Model photo shoot with the esteemed Meg Perotti, Photographer Extraordinaire last week (she did our awesome engagement photos too—she's pretty much our Official Life Photographer), in my pre-PUPPP days, back when my belly was marred only by my gallbladder scar (very PhotoShop-able). We had a great time taking the photos down in San Jo at Quicksilver Park, and, as always, I was/am so so impressed with her skills. Yay Meg!

In other news, I have a headache; I am endlessly excited for this weekend's Healdsburg shower (more on this tomorrow, when I don't have a headache); I had a dream that I saved my Senior Prom by taking over DJ duties and playing better music; Kelli arrives tomorrow night and this is very exciting; Rachel is now a Master of Urban Planning and I am very proud of her; I voted No on all the Props today; I am loving the Golden Bears record that Julianna sent us; Ivy kicks and punches and stretches every time I eat, and responds especially forcefully to strawberry ice cream; and though I did not understand the LOST season, I enjoyed it greatly.

Baby Tips Pt. 2

2009-05-14T09:56:00.000-07:00

Last month I posted the first half of the baby tips that I received from various wise mamas after I sent out a call for suggestions as to what we might actually need during the first year vs. what we probably won't need/use/like. The responses were awesome and varied and I compiled them, w/ links, to share with others...Enjoy

BOOB n BOTTLE
• If you plan to breast feed La Leche League was a big help to me. There's someone in every area!
• I got one of these so I didn't have to say the word 'boppy'. Plus it’s bigger and smooshier:
• We use Born Free bottles and think they're great.
• 'My Breast Friend' was definitely not a friend, and a huge waste of $.
• Get a Boppy. But make sure it is the naked Boppy and buy a few slipcovers. Trust me on this one.
• Flat cloth diapers to use as burp cloths.
• A night bra. So much more comfortable than wearing a regular bra to bed and it will hold your breast pads in place in case the baby decides to sleep through a feeding and your body doesn't.
• I basically lived in Glamourmom nursing bra tanks for a couple years.
• Breast pads. For me, the only ones that worked were the Lansinoh.
• My Ameda Purely Yours breastpump worked great with all three kids. It was a huge relief at times. It is also less expensive than the Medela version.
• If you need a pump, I like my Pump In Style (and I got a used one from a friend that works just fine).
• I’ve heard great things about the Ameda pump. The Lansinoh double electric is the exact same pump, different name, and is sometimes available cheaper. I will say that if you have any supply issues (which I do), you'll want to start out with a hospital grade rental and then get a pump in style- they're just stronger. If you don't have any issues, the Ameda/Lansinoh should be fine, and is definitely cheaper.
• If you need milk bags, Lansinoh are the best- no leaks.
• Lansinoh ointment: start rubbing it on your nipples a couple weeks *before* the baby is born, to get them ready. And apply it every time the baby nurses in the beginning, to keep nipples from cracking.

BOOKS
• I found the askdrsears website a real help. The Sears family has a whole arsenal of books, but the site is really comprehensive. I’m definitely not an attachment parenting nazi and I know it doesn't work for everyone. Some people can find their tone really chastening and the advice impractical. But Evie was a tough baby and I found their council really affirming.
• The only book I would recommend buying (versus getting from your library) is Alfie Kohn's Unconditional Parenting. In the strange ways that parenting a child can feel like parenting yourself from time to time, I found this book intensely therapeutic.
• I recommend the book Super Baby Food for when you start introducing solids.
• Ina May’s Guide to Childbirth and Spiritual Midwifery

CARRIERS
• Moby Wrap for under 6 months, Ergo carrier for over 6 months
• When the baby gets a little bigger, a backpack style carrier, like the Ergo is great for hiking, errands, walks, traveling -- we schlepped Bee around SE Asia in the Ergo. I can't recommend it enough.
• We went right from the Ergo carrier (which I LOVE and can't recommend enough) to the bike trailer.
• Ocean is six months, and we've never used her stroller. We wear her everywhere. I love my babyhawk (and they come in rad prints), but I’ve also heard great things about the Beco, which seems like it is easier for putting on/off while on the go.
• Evie pretty much lived in her sling for the first 6 months. Ours was a gift called the Peanut Shell.
• Peanut shell slings. Some babies like to be upright (a la moby/babyhawk) but Amelia was more of a "cradle hold" kind of kid.
• We couldn't live without our Baby Bjorn, we loved wearing Bradley. It was the most comfortable way to carry him, and kept him the most content.
• We have the Baby Bjorn and I love it. It took our son a little while to get used to it, but we used it a lot.
• I do not recommend the Baby Bjorn -- it's just not comfortable once the baby puts on a few pounds!
• There are about ten million different types of baby carriers, and everyone likes a different one. I tried and returned a couple slings before finding the one that worked for me. Whatever you choose, having some kind of easy-to-use carrier is essential. It takes the weight off your arms if you're just carrying the baby around the house or on a walk. You can use it to hold the baby while you're out to dinner (our babies were generally happier sleeping in the sling close to mom or dad than sitting in the carseat). You can use it to carry the baby around at the grocery store, instead of lugging an infant car seat around. When both of ours were little babies, we used a simple, adjustable sling made of a cotton mesh material -- very cool and breathable and a great cover-up for nursing to boot.

CAR SEATS
• Get an infant car seat hand-me-down (or craigslist) and splurge on the convertible car seat (Britax is rad).
• Britax Roundabout Convertible car seat - we skipped the cost of the infant car seat that the baby outgrows in 6 months and hurts your back along the way.
• Carseat-wise, Britax are the best. Get a new one, unless you're sure of its pedigree.
• We didn’t use the infant carseat and snap-and-go stroller. We just carried her everywhere in a sling or the babyhawk. You can put them right into a Britax from birth. If I did it over, I’d skip the infant carseat. But, many people swear by them.
• A good infant car seat that snaps in and out of the base if you plan on driving.

CHAIRS + SWINGS
• Bouncy seat. A great place for naps, or putting the baby down while you shower, or for elevated sleeping if the baby is congested. Hell, it wouldn't hurt to have a couple (we kept one inside and one on our deck).
• A bouncy chair or swing. Borrow or get used, if possible, because some babies love the bouncer, and some love the swing.
• The bouncy chair was the only place she'd sleep for several months, aside from our laps. And, it's small and lightweight, so you can carry it into the bathroom to take a shower.
• She had no interest in the big schmancy swing i got, so I’m glad I bought it (and then resold it) on craigslist.
• Bouncer: We got a cheapo one from Target. Sometimes it was the only thing that he would sit in that would allow me to take a shower (I would bring it in the bathroom with me so I could hear him and check on him).
• I would find an inexpensive swing, or borrow one, until you see if your kid likes the swing. Our son did not like it at all.
• V *lived* in this thing for the first 6 months. She loved it.
• If you have a grandparent, uncle, benefactor, etc., wanting to buy you a big-ticket item, we love our Svan high chair. So attractive, and it grows to become a full size chair!
• I like this booster seat, because it is portable, and because it attaches to any chair you don't have to have a separate high chair

CLOTHING
• Clothes in the newborn size, not just 0-3 months, which tends to be too big for a newborn. If I could do it again, I'd buy fewer, but higher quality (soft, organic cotton) newborn clothes, rather than a ton of cheapo stuff. Because of all the spit up, I was doing laundry daily anyway, so I didn't really need 30 onesies.
• Note that you'll want to wash spit-up clothes in COLD water -- warm/hot water sets milk/barf stains.
• Sleeper pajamas and/or a sleep sack.
• Clothing items: Our son lived in onesies and sweat pants for the first few months of his life.
• I highly recommend getting sleepers that have zippers, not snaps, as it will take a lot less time to change the baby's diaper at 2am.

DIAPERS
• Easiest cloth dipes ever
• Cloth diapers. we use the Bum Genius one size pocket dipes. Super easy, and I was NOT planning on cloth diapering.
• We've used cloth diapers the whole time and it's easy. We also never used a diaper service ... just had a diaper pail filled with water and a natural anti-bacterial, soaked the poopers in the toilet, etc. we got all our stuff from www.babyworks.com, in Portland. They ship, but I’m sure there's a diaper shop near you too.
• Get a diaper bag that's comfy to carry. I actually recommend a backpack with good shoulder support, rather than something marketed as a diaper bag. Not as pretty, but better for schlepping around.
• Definitely buy a backpack instead of the one-shoulder diaper bags. It is unisex and is a whole lot easier to tote around.
• A few folks told me I couldn't possibly live with out a diaper bag, so I kind of ponied up on a nice one. I never used it ... always just found myself tucking diapers into a backpack or the bike trailer.
• Diaper cream that is 40% zinc oxide -- not the "creamy" stuff that is only 10% (it's not effective!).
• Bay Area diaper services: www.tinytots.com or http://www.tideedidee.net/

SLEEPIN’
• The co-sleeper. Don’t bother. We ended up using ours as a place to dump the laundry. She just sleeps in our bed. We do have a crib we use for naps, but we just got it a few weeks ago, and you can get away without one for quite awhile.
• I tried a co-sleeper with Bee and didn't like it at all. It's not easy to pick up a baby while lying down, or sitting, or kneeling, in bed, which is what you have to do with the co-sleeper, unless you get out of bed (which, with the co-sleeper, involves scooting down to the bottom of the bed). Also, the co-sleeper makes making the bed hard, and when you're sleeping you may worry about your covers getting in there, and it's a pain to assemble, I could go on and on.
• As for sleeping arrangements, we found that the playpens that also have attachments to become a bassinet work great. They transform and last until the baby figures out how to escape (this was almost 2 for us) and you can bring them with you on trips.
• We loved Happiest Baby on the Block, and "SSHHHsh"-ing was very helpful in the early months to help him get to sleep.
• We bought a co-sleeper, crib, and a Pack n' Play. The Pack n' Play was useful after 6 months, but the co-sleeper got NO use, and the crib is just finally getting some use. We ended up having him in our bed until about 2 months ago, because that just felt most comfortable for us...but everyone feels differently on this, so do what works for you. :)
• Do you have a pad under your sheets and above your mattress? The kind that would absorb...say...spills or other effluvia? The big insight that I have gained after two babies is that I should have owned TWO of those, because there were several nights when the bed was stripped not once but twice (mostly barf) and boy oh boy would that have been nice...because if you get it the second time and you don't have the pad on, you are doomed
• I DID get Zach something along those lines which I am in love with...an organic wool puddle pad...ahhh. It cost an arm and a leg (like one hundred freaking dollars for a twin bed) BUT it catches the pee, is really soft for under the sheets, and has made midnight bed changes easier. I was convinced by people smarter than me that this was a good place to spend money and they were right.
• Somebody mentioned multiple bed pads for when the baby spits up in your bed in the night. OMG YES. I spent so many nights with Finney changing out the sheets and scrubbing the mattress.
• Get a snap-on top layer that goes over the crib sheet (for all the messes baby makes in bed... changing the whole crib sheet is a pain)

STROLLERS

We are getting the City Mini

• Wait until baby is here to pick out a stroller. Then you'll have a better idea of what you want/need.
• You won't need it for a good while, but a lightweight folding stroller like the McLaren Volo is great.
• Stroller: I loved our travel system. We got the Graco Quattro Tour travel system; it has the stroller, infant carrier and the base for the car seat. I loved having the carrier and used it until he was almost 9 months old. It was so nice to be able to go somewhere and not have to wake him up if he was sleeping. We still use the stroller to this day and our son is 2 years old. We just bought the Graco Duo Glider for when baby number 2 arrives, it is compatible with the infant carrier

SWADDLING
• These are really great for swaddling
• Swaddling with a good swaddle blanket is also very key! We had good luck with Swaddle Designs Ultimate Receiving Blanket & the Kiddopotomus Swaddlers. I highly recommend getting some practice swaddling a live baby before you deliver. It's tricky
• Oh and the SwaddleMe thingies with the velcro fasteners, so helpful! We could never recreate the secure swaddles like the folks at the hospital without the magic of velcro
THINGS RELATED TO ACTIVITY
• A play mat, like this, is SO great for when the baby starts trying to grab stuff
• Floor mat: Tummy time is a big thing for babies to start them working on their upper body strength. We bought a really cheap one and it was horrible. Look for something that has toys, mirrors, etc. so the kid has lots of things to look at.
• When the baby is a little older, older than 4 months, I would look into getting an exersaucer or jumperoo. We had the Rainforest Jumperoo and our son LOVED it!

Weekend of excellence

2009-05-11T11:20:00.000-07:00

Cats, cats, cats. Oh and a big ol' belly!
From left to right, my favorite aunt, sister, and mom. And me in a dress that makes me looks way more expansive than I actually am.
Yay love!

Yesterday was Mother's Day, duh. I was terribly touched by the slew of Happy-Mother's-Day-You-Almost-Mama text messages that I got from friends, and by the incredibly sweet and thoughtful gifts bestowed upon me by my dear husband (including this mix that I'm listening to right now, which made me cry from the first note). It was a trip to both be and not-be a mom. My mom instinct is definitely in full-swing (Jason, please don't sit on the edge of the garage-top-deck, you know I'm terrified you'll fall backwards and smash your head; Jenn, does Arlo know how to get down from his highchair properly? Is he going to fall?; I definitely think that car is going to run me over, even though I'm in a crosswalk and it has a red light; That dog looks untrustworthy; Is this yogurt expired?; etc etc) and in many ways I feel like a mom—at the same time, I mean, whatever. I have yet to give birth, I have yet to gaze into my daughter's eyes and feel that feeling that I hope I'll feel, I have yet to nurse a crying creature at 3am, to change diaper explosions, to watch my baby sleep, to sit on the bed with Jason and Ivy and marvel at what we've done. So it was nice to be appreciated and celebrated, but I know this was a Pre-Mother's Day.

Still: what a great day/weekend it was. Friday night found Jason and I exploring our potential new neighborhood on foot and falling madly in love with it. From the park to the houses to the amazing gardens to the friendly cats to the punk rock kids walking down the street to the cool-looking young parents strolling with their babies to the elementary school. Ooooh the elementary school. We swooned and swooned and then had amazing dinner at Marzano. On Saturday we did the family Mom Day thing at Nancy's: lovely delish brunch with mom, Aubs, Doug, Nancy, Jason. Favorite baked eggs and pecan coffeecake and fruit and reading the paper in the sun and lounging, light napping, watching Giants game. Then Jason and I proceeded to enjoy each other's company very very much, listening to new great records and playing Scrabble (Scrabble is hard w/ preg brain). I made a Spring Bounty dinner: whole wheat linguine w/ fava bean + chard pesto (favas liberated from seemingly abandoned garden plots in Dimond Park; chard from garden, robust remnant from last year's garden), asparagus, zucchini, and peas (peas + asparagus from garden/CSA respectively); and marinated baby artichokes (also from CSA). And a tiny glass of good red for us both.

Then yesterday I started with a truly challenging and gorgeous preg lady hike up in the Pt. Richmond hills with Jen and Lan—both having late July summer babies, both doing home birth, both awesome. It was seriously a hike—like big steep hills, gorgeous vistas, more big steep hills, etc. Buzz and Spider (Jen's adorable tiny rat terrier) romped all over and loved it, and we huffed and puffed up and down hills, drinking plenty of water and yammering about preg stuff in between gasps and pants. I'm exaggerating slightly—we fared quite well, and I was very proud of myself when all was said and done. I came home refreshed and starving and received from Jason the sweetest package, which included a note written on the cutest baby picture of him ever, and this mix, and, um, the most amazing necklace that I immediately put on and it made me cry (duh) and oh, this man can select jewelry for his wife! And then we headed to Jenn's for (of course) amazing brunch with Jenn, Arlo (getting cuter by the second), and Jon. Then to Ace Garden for flowers and ground cover; then to Mosswood Park to sit with Lara on a blanket and watch Mitch play softball; then home to work on front-of-house area, to make it look less white trash. Planted flowers, trimmed out-of-control bouganvilla, etc. Then hung w/ Lara and Mitc, discussing bellybuttons, Single A baseball, pretzels, cheap beer, and birth videos. And then to Cato's for pizza, complimentary non-alcoholic bevs for preg mamas (since I'd already had some champagne at brunch and a few sips of watermelon beer ((?!)) ), and dice games (C-lo and Damn Straight). And then home to an excellent bath, and some reading of Waiting For Birdy, the charming and pretty damn funny book by one Catherine Newman, my former teacher/hero during my undergrad years, and now world-famous mom/food blogger extraordinaire.

And then we went to bed, crazy in love and sated with relaxation, anticipation, and appreciation.

It does not suck, this life. Not. At. All.

Arise! Disarm! Mothers!

2009-05-11T10:36:00.000-07:00

The following is an excerpt from Ruth Rosen’s Slate.com article “Soap to Ploughshares: How to return Mother's Day to its original meaning.”

The women who originally celebrated Mother's Day conceived of it as an occasion to use their status as mothers to protest injustice and war. In 1858, Anna Reeves Jarvis organized Mother's Work Days in West Appalachian communities to protest the lack of sanitation that caused disease-bearing insects and polluted water to sicken or even kill poor workers. In 1870, after witnessing the bloody Civil War, Julia Ward Howe—a Boston pacifist, poet, and suffragist who wrote the "Battle Hymn of the Republic"—proclaimed a special day for mothers to oppose war. Committed to ending all armed conflict, Howe wrote, "Our husbands shall not come to us reeking with carnage. … Our sons shall not be taken from us to unlearn all that we have been able to teach them of charity, mercy and patience."

For the next three decades, Americans celebrated Mother's Days for Peace on June 2. Women political activists of this era fought to end lynching and organized to end child labor, trafficking of women, and consumer fraud. In their view, their moral superiority was grounded in the fact of their motherhood.

When Anna Jarvis died in 1905, her daughter, also named Anna, vowed to honor her mother's political activism by creating a national Mother's Day. The gift card and flower industries also lobbied hard. As an industry publication, the Florists' Review, put it, "This was a holiday that could be exploited." In 1914, Congress responded and proclaimed the second Sunday in May to be Mother's Day.

Companies seized on the holiday by setting out to teach Americans how to honor their mothers by buying them flowers, candy, or cards. This outraged Anna Jarvis the daughter. When florists sold carnations for the then-exorbitant price of $1 a piece, she began a campaign against "those who would undermine Mother's Day with their greed." But she was hardly a match for the flower and card companies. Soon, the Florists' Review announced, with a certain triumphant tone, that it was "Miss Jarvis who was completely squelched." And they were right.

In the words of Ward Howe:

Mother's Day Proclamation 1870

By Julia Ward Howe

Arise then...women of this day!
Arise, all women who have hearts!
Whether your baptism be of water or of tears!
Say firmly:
"We will not have questions answered by irrelevant agencies,
Our husbands will not come to us, reeking with carnage,
For caresses and applause.
Our sons shall not be taken from us to unlearn
All that we have been able to teach them of charity, mercy and patience.
We, the women of one country,
Will be too tender of those of another country
To allow our sons to be trained to injure theirs."

From the bosom of a devastated Earth a voice goes up with
Our own. It says: "Disarm! Disarm!
The sword of murder is not the balance of justice."
Blood does not wipe out dishonor,
Nor violence indicate possession.
As men have often forsaken the plough and the anvil
At the summons of war,
Let women now leave all that may be left of home
For a great and earnest day of counsel.
Let them meet first, as women, to bewail and commemorate the dead.
Let them solemnly take counsel with each other as to the means
Whereby the great human family can live in peace...
Each bearing after his own time the sacred impress,
In the name of womanhood and humanity, I earnestly ask
That a general congress of women without limit of nationality,
May be appointed and held at someplace deemed most convenient
And the earliest period consistent with its objects,
To promote the alliance of the different nationalities,
The amicable settlement of international questions,
The great and general interests of peace.

Sigh. Yes. YES.

No, we did not need 3D glasses to see our daughter

2009-05-07T12:04:00.000-07:00

This was taken with Jason's cell phone camera, so it's not of the highest quality, but you can totally still see her face, right? That's her arm and hand to the left of her face. And that's her face, dude. Her face!

(FYI: If you want to just skip to the part where you see her face, it's about 4 minutes in)

So. The whole thing with ultrasounds is that it's very difficult to tell for sure if the baby's a girl—boy's easy, but girl's a bit more enigmatic. As you all know, we were told that it was 'most likely' a girl; this is what we believed all along, and it's what the psychic hippies in Hawaii told us, so though we've 'known' that it's a girl, I started to get a little obsessed with finding out for sure. The only way to do this—aside from an amnio—is to do one of these bizarro new-fangled 3D/4D ultrasounds that allow you to, like, see the baby. Like see her face. And her (as the company so annoyingly kept saying) gender. Though slightly creeped out by the whole venture, we decided to get 'er done. Barb and Doug and Aubs came along for the viewing, and we paid $50 (the cheapest option—we denied the other 'packages' which included 5x7s and 8x10s and freaking DVDs and posters and keychains and who knows what else) to see our daughter. Yes! GIRL! FOR SURE! Because the place is not a medical facility, and the ultrasounds are not intended for diagnostic purposes—it's really just a vanity operation, a cool thing for parents to do and a cool way for someone with the right equipment to make a buck—the people there refused to use anatomical language like 'vagina' and 'labia', instead referring to Ivy's 'girl parts', 'girl area', and 'gender area', which was weird and irksome and offended my sex/gender distinction beliefs, but whatever. We got to see our baby's face. Who can quibble feminist semantics at a time like that?

Basically, it was awesome. She had her hand in front of her face, in kind of a dramatic 'oh-leave-me-alone-dahling' kind of way. After about 5 or 6 minutes of ultrasound she started kicking, and I felt like she was over it, so I asked the lovely Eastern European technician to cease. She printed out some crazy pics of Ivy's face, and one of her 'girl area' (which we're saving to use as blackmail someday) and we were on our way, secure in the knowledge of our daughter's sex, and suddenly weirdly kind of familiar with her face.

I feel like I should clarify that we wanted to know the sex for sure not because we would be bummed to have a boy necessarily, but because if it was a boy, we wanted to know now, so we could mentally prepare. She's taken on such a strong identity, this little Ivy Cat—what with her name and our conversations with and about her, and her closetful of totally adorable girl clothes, and my endless visions of her future and what it will be to raise a rad girl—and we felt that we wanted to know for sure. Ok. Just had to say that.

Thanks, technology!

Strangely, I Keep Writing Poems

2009-05-04T11:23:00.000-07:00

Which, again, is something I never do, always write prose, never think in terms of line breaks and form in that way, but something in my brain is causing line breaks, and so, well, it just happens. On Saturday I was a sobby hormonal pregnant weepy mess, all moody and sappy and sad like the weather, and I had Jason drop me off instead on continuing errands because I wanted to lie in bed and emote. On the way up the stairs I checked the mail and lo, discovered an exciting delivery: Dear Apocalypse, a new book of poetry by one KA Hays (aka Katie), a wondrous writer and generous soul, my dear pal from grad school (and kind appreciator of this here blog). I promptly got in bed with the book and read it almost all the way through, much of it out loud so Ivy could enjoy it as well. It's a wonderful book, dark and lyrical and precise, a book that, to quote one of the back cover blurbs, "finds a spiritual power in the violence of nature". Reading it in my particular state felt very appropriate, reeling as I was from a certain magical violence of nature, assaulting me in the forms of hormonal tidal waves, and I came across one poem that referenced a mother bird and her lost fledglings and oh, it got me. And I thought, I am so affected by these lines that I have no choice but to respond.

(It should definitely be mentioned that this poem is in no remote way as lovely and well-crafted as any of Katie's. Just sayin'.)

DARKLING, DARLING

after 'Darkling' by KA Hays

Poring now through the new book
looking for the one poem I read
about some parent, animal, a bird,
something winged with a baby, or babies,
and a sense of loss and or desire, lines
that made me pause and sigh, cry
more than I already was, in bed on a sad
Saturday in May with rain and so much grey—

We do not have weather here,
are not supposed to, are supposed to move
through the air without feeling it, I am happy,
temperate, undramatic, but that day was a welling
up of it all, new blood, small kicks, hormones,
roiling breathless frustrations and hopes
and beauty, tremendous, trembling, and then, reading,
sorrow for the mother thrush who wings off
and her countless fledgings, lost (lost!)
their departures,
common as dusk

(because it happens everyday, all of this,
this birth and death and living)

I love dusk, the sound of the word, the look
of the light, the memory of day, acceptance of the night
and I
I never want you to depart,
never want to lose you in the dim evening, or
on a warm morning, a spacious afternoon with
lavendera shaking in the breeze out the window,
never on a crying night, a rocking hour, not ever
during a reaching fumbling
waking moment.

Because now we are we—grey day or not,
crying or not, beyond sense, sensation,
imagination—we, alive on a wire, in the bed, inside,
held and adored by a new midnight choir,
and oh, we cannot be excused from this
and do not, do not want to be.

Self Portraits in Bathroom Mirror @ 32 Weeks

2009-05-04T08:52:00.000-07:00

La la la la 31 weeks!

2009-04-28T18:18:00.000-07:00

How 'bout a general update? Great.

I basically felt like weak, fatigued crap for most of last week (Mon-Thurs). I was couch-bound for a lot of it, and even walking down to Piedmont Ave. (incredibly close to my house) caused me to feel exhausted, and made my legs feel a bit tingly. I started getting a bit freaked out that this was my new condition, that I'd turned some kind of shitty 3rd trimester corner and reached the end of my whole blissful feeling-great thing, that I was in for two months of barely being about to hoof it to the store. So when I saw Amrit last Thursday (who had just returned from a 3-week sojourn to Baja, where she rested and relaxed and kissed a baby whale) the first thing I brought up was my mysterious sickness—was it the heat, an Ivy growth spurt, something else, or just the reality of the third trimester? And all I had to do was mention my luxurious weekend in the sun, on the river, and my Monday morning nausea for her to say, simply, sagely: "You were dehydrated." Oh. Yes. We went on to discuss the necessity of drinking epic amounts of fluids, especially at this point of baby growth. I do drink a ton of water, but in retrospect, didn't drink as much as I normally do when I was up in Healdsburg. I was probably sweating a lot, as I sat/napped in the sun for many many hours. I've now done some reading on dehydration in pregnant women and it's no joke—it's the leading cause of fatigue, and many women end up hospitalized, with an IV to replenish fluids. Freaking glad as hell that it didn't get that bad. So. Moral of the story: Pregnant women need to drink tons and tons of water! It means that you pee ALL THE TIME but it also means that you don't feel sick and your baby is happy! The rest of the visit with Amrit was great; all my ph levels are normal, blood pressure's great, baby heartbeat is on point. Ivy is currently head-down, as she's been for a while, and she dramatically favors curling up on my right side. I can often feel her butt, and I feel her elbows on the right side and her kicks on my left.
Now, a week after the dehydration episode, I feel great again—pretty energetic, and definitely able to walk to the market no problem. I do feel the increasing weight of this baby, but in such a wonderful way. I'm going on a mellow hike this Thursday with one Jen Loy, who is also preg, and though we're gonna take it pretty easy, I'm looking forward to seeing how I fare. Do not worry: I will bring ample water supplies, and am definitely not going to push myself.
I am, however, feeling some pretty rocking heartburn the past few days. I think she just readjusted my stomach significantly, as oooo, it's not feeling pleasant. Wolfing the Tums, trying to do small meals and avoid acidic foods, but oy, it does not rule, this heartburn.
I've put in a call to the woman who will most likely rent us our birthing tub. She's a local midwife who owns a few and rents them out—we get it for a month, and will probably pick it up in early June. This means that, if we want to fill it up, we can have a wading pool/hot tub in our house for June. If the weather returns to hotness, this might be very awesome for me (and Jason!) The water has to be changed every three days, so I don't imagine we'll keep it consistently full until we get closer to go time, but we'll see.
Jason has now been gone for a week, and gets home tomorrow night. Though I have enjoyed this time to myself, I miss him terribly and cannot wait to see him. No more business trips from here on out—he's sticking close to home until baby.
And finally, Baby Center email today tells me this: By now, your baby weighs 3.75 pounds (pick up a large jicama) and is about 16.7 inches long, taking up a lot of space in your uterus. You're gaining about a pound a week and roughly half of that goes right to your baby. In fact, she'll gain a third to half of her birth weight during the next 7 weeks as she fattens up for survival outside the womb. She now has toenails, fingernails, and real hair (or at least respectable peach fuzz). Her skin is becoming soft and smooth as she plumps up in preparation for birth. Toenails! Real hair! Respectable peach fuzz! Soft and smooth and oh my goodness...

Fruit

2009-04-22T13:39:00.000-07:00

Lately I've been craving fruit, especially strawberries. Yesterday I bought some huge green grapes and they are so so good. Today I've been reading Sheila Kitzinger's The Complete Guide to Pregnancy and Childbirth, which is pretty good and thorough, and I came across two quotes that I like. Both happen to reference fruit, but in very different ways.

From the introduction:

"Pregnancy and childbirth are normal life processes, not illnesses. You feel the surge of life moving inside you, the ripening of your body heavy with fruit, and then the flood of vitality as labor starts and your uterus contracts in wave after wave, bringing your baby into your arms. It is awe-inspiring and deeply satisfying. At the same time, you grow up a little and learn more about yourself and your partner."

I like the simplicity of this statement, as well as its eloquence. Pregnancy and birth are not illnesses, yet we pathologize them in myriad ways. And I do indeed feel heavy with fruit. Both literally, cuz I drank a big strawberry-filled smoothie this morning, and figuratively, cuz this little melon is putting on the ounces.

The other quote is decidedly less pleasant, but it's the best description I've read thus far of what "transistion" feels like (transition is the phase of labor that happens when you're between 8-10 cm dilated; it's basically insane hell-time, contractions are super close together and intense, you can't push yet, you're on fire, etc etc):

"The surest sign [that you're entering transition] is feeling that you have a large grapefruit pressing against your anus or that you want to empty your bowels."

I'm a big fan of grapefruit, but I imagine I'll look at them differently from now on, imagining one inside of me, pushing against my ass.

(Ok, sorry to get all graphic, but let's be real here: a baby is going to come out of my vagina. Milk will come out of my boobs. All kinds of crazy shit's gonna go on with my special parts. And I shall not refrain from discussing it. So be prepared. I'm talking to you, Uncle Howard! I am truly sorry if I've just ruined grapefruit for you, though.)

Slices of life...

2009-04-21T18:19:00.000-07:00

Henry had to wear a plastic collar after his snipping. Talk about adding insult to injury.
Imagine when there's a baby in this mix too!
Aubs and I took Barb to the Claremont for her birthday. Twas delightful.
Aubs and mom with champagne and yummy in-room snackage.
Hi Mitch and Lara at the As game! Lara is preg, too, due about a month after me. Our little summer girl-babies shall be great friends!
More baby-stuff donations from friends = more places for the cats to hide/sleep.

I'm feeling hot hot hot

2009-04-21T17:56:00.000-07:00

Ruby and John's turtles have a special relationship.
The husbands built a pizza oven while the wives lounged and ate.
This is how mama kicks it on some hot days. On other days, she is inside, w/ fan. The beer's pretty much a prop, though I did have some fabulous sips.
Me and Ruby in her glorious yard.
Can you believe that my friend owns the house that has this yard? Oh and look, my big preg
belly.

Me, Jason and Buzz at the dog park.

We seem to be having a heat wave, and I am realizing that perhaps heat and the 3rd trimester are not very good friends. I generally adore the heat, cannot get enough sunshiny summer weather, but oh is it making me lethargic! Luckily there was a delightful river (the Russian) to keep me cool this weekend, as we spent a blissful time up at Ruby and John's domestic paradise in Healdsburg; now back in Oakland I do have a wondrous fan that Jason bought me last night before he left for his absurdly long White Whale New England Tour '09 (he's not coming home for a week!)

Yesterday I was straight up sick, as in barf followed by extreme lethargy, but today I definitely feel better. Still taking it easy, and sticking close to the fan. And lots and lots of water and cool foods like grapes and cucumbers and popsicles. In addition to the heat, I think I'm feeling this way because Ivy is having an epic growth spurt—I'm going to confirm this with Amrit when I see her in two days, but she me at our last appointment to expect some fatigue around this time, cuz baby does some major growing around 30-33 weeks. Or so. I can definitely feel that she's bigger—I can locate her parts more distinctly, and her movements feel more intense and defined, and, in general, it all just feels bigger and heavier.

In other news, I have ceased my kickboxing activities and increased my swimming, which is so so delightful. I love being in the pool, cruising in the slow lane. I miss kickboxing though—especially the fact that class is always at 6. It's much easier to motivate when there's an actual time attached to the exercise event.

But anyway. There's a fly in my office and the neighbor's cat is hanging out with me. Earlier it was the other neighbor's dog, who looks exactly like a gremlin. And looooves to bark. I'm going to make a salad and convince Aubs to come over and watch American Idol. It's disco night, apparently. How fabulous.

I don't write poetry but

2009-04-15T13:10:00.000-07:00

I tried to write a fiction

about celebrities and death.

With characters and paragraphs but

I can’t

because

it seems

your brain has begun

to take on a wrinkled appearance because of its rapid growth

and the wrinkles are called convolutions and a convoluted brain

contains more brain cells than a smooth, nonconvoluted brain

and is

potentially

more

powerful.

And.

You may have a callous on your thumb.

You can register information from all five of your senses.

Your toenails are fully formed. Your head grows,

your brain pushes out and folds in on itself.

Eyelashes. Fingernails. Controlled body temperature. Muscle tone.

New fat. Smooth skin. More hair. Brain waves.

Your brain your brain you have a brain.

Your iris, your eye, beginning to respond

to the intensity of light, to the sight of less light

Opening under dim circumstances,

closing under bright.

You are practicing looking.

Soon you will see—

there is a difference.

And should you need to,

you can breathe air.

And that is all I need to know

today.

Baby Tips Pt. 1

2009-04-10T09:43:00.000-07:00

“You're gonna do great! A friend told me no matter what you read... nothing brings you the knowledge that just naturally comes after your baby is born! I didn't believe it until it happened! You just know! You know what they need and why they're crying.”

A few months ago, once I started feeling actually pregnant, and this whole thing emerged as a stunning and wild reality, I began to realize that we will need to buy/borrow/steal 'things' for the baby. That babies require things, special things, objects and tools and items designed to help everyone involved. I also realized that the Baby Things Market is insane, and that there are like 10,000 different organic hemp baby slings and 10,000 kinds of strollers and diaper options and omg. I knew we wanted to remain low on things, and not get cluttered with tons of plastic crap, and an object for every single moment and occurrence (Organic Baby Face Wiper Stick, for when your baby has food on her face and you can't wipe it off with your own spit-soaked finger). BUT! I also knew that there were many good, helpful, legitimate things we would appreciate, and so I send out a call to the mamas and papas that I know on ye old Facebook. And wouldn't you know it, those mamas replied with a wealth of great advice, info, tips, and suggestions (the dads mostly wrote back and said "Get lots of sleep"— thanks dudes).

Yesterday I finally compiled all the info from all the messages into a word doc so I could send it to my preg friends. I organized it into categories, and since it's a lot of info, I'll post it as a series. We begin with General Tips and Baby Care Items!

*And of course, this list is no where near complete (I don't think that's possible). So if you have anything to add, leave a comment, and I'll just keep expanding the list until we all collapse from Advice Exhaustion. That'll be ok, because when we recover from said collapse, we will have tons of epic advice.*

(And thanks to Julianna, Jenny, Jenn, Jen (!!!), Taryn, Bonnie, Laura, Lisa, Shefa, Vicky, Candace, Rachel, Phil, Mark, and Angela for all your awesome advice!)

GENERAL!

• Make sure you have a lot of certain things and always keep the supply stocked and clean. Those things are bibs, burp clothes, diapers, wipes, onesies, bottles, pacifiers, and patience. You never want to go to grab something have it not be there, so that is why having a lot is important. Everything else is less important.
• Have friends volunteer ahead of time to make meals during the first few weeks. Some people made freezable things ahead of time. Others cooked and dropped off food after she was born. Sooo helpful.
• I found doing the dishes completely overwhelming for the first month or so. Ask friends to volunteer. Or eat off of recycled paper plates for a couple weeks.
• I can't say enough about craigslist. So much of this stuff is indispensable, but only for a couple months. We cycled through a bouncy chair, doorway jumper and walker this way.
• Try to find a good resale store in your town. This is such a great way to shop for clothes and gear.
• A rocking chair with a FOOTSTOOL is very, very nice to have
• Screw the rocking chair, get a yoga ball! This was completely critical to our operation for the first year. I can't even guess the miles we must have logged in bouncing her on that thing.
• Yoga ball!
• We couldn't live without the cloth diapers as burp rags (Bradley spit up a TON, so these were priceless). You can never have too many.
• Lots of soft, absorbent burp cloths.
• Check out the comment section on the Babiesrus registry It's mainly commented by moms and the items are rated.
• Happiest Baby on the Block! Get the DVD. It's all in the swaddling!
• A journal to record random things about baby’s birth and first year.
• A belly cast kit
• Make sure to take lots of random newborn photos. You’ll be surprised how fast they change.
• The one thing that's come in handy for us a surprising number of times is a passport. We had them made for the girls when Natalie was only about 3 months old. It all seemed crazy at the time, but the passports have come in handy more than once, especially with all the inane, ever-changing security rules at airports. We once had to prove Natalie was actually under 2 because she was so big and talking so well (kids under 2 fly free, so we didn't have a ticket for her -- luckily we were able to produce a passport to prove it).

BABY CARE ITEMS
• baby bathtub
• chemical free bath products (I love all the Burts Bees or California Baby)--bubbles, shampoo, lotion
• little nail clipper
• a good digital thermometer
• that booger sucky-thing and some saline nose drops for stuffy nose mornings (I think called "little noses")
• Gripe water--he only needed it maybe three times, but the three times he needed it (when I ate something that did not agree with him when it passed into my breastmilk) it was like MAGIC: red-faced screaming baby one second, silent cooing sleeping baby the next second.
• infant Tylenol, infant Motrin
• little comb! little hairbrush!
• butt products: I like A & D and Burts Bees diaper cream; the sensitive wipes from Target are the best and cheapest
• babyproofing: cheap and wonderful babyproofing at IKEA, don't bother with the other stuff!

Stay tuned for BOOBS n BOTTLES, BOOKS, CARRIERS, CAR SEATS and more!

The Dude Who Named The Thing I Feel

2009-04-09T16:29:00.000-07:00

(This post title would make a pretty sweet album name, no?)

So I am now experiencing what are known as 'Braxton Hicks contractions'—painless uterine contractions that can begin as early as the 6th week of pregnancy, but are generally not felt until the third trimester (many women feel them earlier; some don't really feel them at all. Thus is the idiosyncratic nature of preg). I was having them before I felt them, as my midwife informed me when she touched my belly and felt the muscles contract. Now I can detect a sensation that can best be described as a tightening—it's subtle and totally painless and is my body's way of preparing my uterus for the insane contractions to come. They also function to prepare the baby for the insane sensations to come—a gentle ramping up, if you will, a training session. Like maybe if you were preparing to walk on hot coals you might start off by holding your feet near a fireplace, or if you were going to run an ultra-marathon you might begin with a jog around the block. Point is, it's a cool thing that the body does to get in shape for the real deal. BH contractions tend to remain pretty mellow, but as the due date approaches, they can get more intense, and are often confused with real contractions—what people call 'false labor'.

This is all well and good, you're thinking. How interesting, how neat. But perhaps you're wondering where this phenomenon got its name? Who or what was this "Braxton Hicks" and how did such a name become affixed to such a physical process? Guess.

GUESS.

Was it a pregnant woman with a hyphenated last name who published an article about her tightening belly? A collaborative effort between two midwives? Is it Latin for "painless uterine contractions"?

Ok, I guess the post title gave it away. But even without it, I'm sure you would've guessed that, obviously, none of those are correct, because, as with most Things in this world (cities, countries, medical procedures, buildings, whathaveyou; not so with ships, 50% of hurricanes, etc) Braxton Hicks contractions are named for...a dude. A British dude. A 19th century British doctorman discoverer dude. Yes, Dr. John Braxton Hicks, the Columbus (or Vespucci, take yr pick) of my uterine contractions.

The American Pregnancy Association puts it this way: It all started in 1872 when an English doctor, John Braxton Hicks, described the contractions that occur before real labor. Can you imagine constantly thinking,"This must be it," and then it wasn't? Doctors and pregnant women have Dr. Hicks to thank for clearing up all the confusion.

So, thank you Dr. Hicks! I'm sure that women all over the world breathed a collective sigh of deep relief when Dr. Hicks announced this incredible description, thus alleviating their immense, centuries-old confusion—as certainly no pregnant woman had ever described them before! Thousands of years of pregnancy and birth and all these baffled ignorant women, unable to speak the name of their helpful contractions. Without you, Dr. Hicks, I would be all like "what is this strange sensation that I cannot describe or understand and what can I possibly call it?" Ah, medicine. Ah, obstetrics. I can't imagine where we pregnant women would be without the brilliant men who have described, dissected, and determined our bodies and births. Probably in some forest hut surrounded by witches, in some icky primitive position—like a squat!—grunting and pushing out little heathens.

Ok, I know, men have made Very Important Contributions to the field of Obstetrics and Gynecology. I am but a hysterical (see: Freud, 'Anna O', etc) pregnant feminist, annoyed that I have to keep using some dead white doctor dude's name to describe this cool new feeling that me and my daughter are experiencing.

Perhaps I shall act in the grand tradition of feminist name reclamation, and reject the patriarchy! Take back my painless uterine contractions, and re-christen (see: Christ, Jesus H.) them. Announcing: Kate Schatz contractions!

Happy Birthday Mom! Also, The Culture of Suck Vs. The Culture of Yay

2009-04-08T10:53:00.000-07:00

Baseball has started—hurray for that!

It's raining-ish. As in, not actually raining right now, but looking like it's about to.

Henry got fixed and wore a plastic collar; it's off now, and he's just as insane and cute as before. Now with shaved balls, though.

I finished my teaching stint at Oakland School for the Arts. The students seemed very sad to see me go, and gave very positive feedback about the class. I also brought them cookies (a terrible breach of the schools no-food-in-the-classroom policy, I learned), which may have made them more prone to enthusiastic praise.

Ivy's movements are changing—I can tell that she's bigger because in addition to feeling her kicks and punches, I feel this incredibly strange and cool sense of her kind of rolling around, turning, shifting. Like she's trying to get comfortable in an increasingly shrinking space (which is exactly what's happening, I assume). Some of her movements are so strong and intense—yesterday I was lying on my side on the couch and I swear, I felt the length of her entire leg. As in, my hand was resting on my belly and suddenly her leg was in my hand, but beneath my skin. Ah! Amazing and freaky!

I'm officially in The Third Trimester. The homestretch. Well, I have a few months before it's really the homestretch, but this is the part that people like to tell you will really suck. In fact, people like to talk a lot about the aspects of birth and child-rearing that suck or will suck. And I'm really not a fan of this Culture of Suck. Don't get me wrong—in two months I might look back at this post and cackle at my naive optimism as I groan in pain and massage my spider veins and elevate my swollen cankles and curse at the world in general and beg the gods to get her out of me already! Maybe that will be the case. But dudes—maybe it won't! I'm not assuming I'll be in blissful comfort the whole time, but I don't believe I have to be miserable. That's what I'm going to focus on, hope for, intend for myself and Jason and Ivy and everyone around me. Birth will be painful and crazy and intense and who fucking knows, and all I can do is accept that, and believe that my body knows what to do. Intellectual Thinking Processing Experiencing Kate does not "know" how to have a baby, but Animal Primal Physical Human Woman Kate sure as shit does.

And the same goes for once she is here, in our arms, with us in this world. I know we will be tired and overwhelmed and maybe freaked out but we will have a magical little creature! And of course birth is painful and of course having an infant is hard and crazy because we have not done either and you can read a million books but nothing prepares you for the moment like the moment itself. Nothing can really teach you about your baby but the baby itself. As the wise wise Nancy Bardacke always said, your baby is your teacher. I think Jason and I—chronic knowledge-hoarding know-it-alls that we are—are both looking forward to being humbled, to being instructed and guided by this wise and fragile force. And so when people offer us their 'advice', their oh it's so hard and god you'll never sleep and say goodbye to your lives cuz you're never leaving the house again and blah blah blah the difficulties!, we both just kind of smile and nod and shrug and inside we're both thinking yup, it'll be hard. No shit. But we're actually pretty damn excited. It's like the Culture of Suck is about this common suffering, this complaining and compulsion to 'warn' people about what they're getting into and, ok, I know it's easy for me to criticize this, as I'm not there yet, but a) We've already gotten into it. So the 'warning' is a bit beside the point. and b) I don't really want to bond over the negative aspects of this. I'd really rather bond over how awesome it is to be pregnant, and to have the opportunity to have this baby together. The same goes for birth: women are taught to fear it, to expect unbearable pain,, intolerable pain. It's been pathologized to the point that it actually seems impossible for many women. And it is scary—it's totally insane to think that this big ass kicking moving baby is going to somehow emerge from my vagina. I mean, WTF?! BUT. I know I can do it. I know it will hurt. I know it will happen, I will endure it, I cannot begin to predict what it'll be like, or plan it, or design it. All I can do is believe it will work, that we will all get through it, it will end, and we will have a baby. I don't need it to be orgasmic and blissful (though I would not mind) but I'm not giving into the total terrordreadanxiety of it all.

I'm being harsh and crabby here, but I do think this is part of a larger cultural compulsion to connect with others based on hardship and things-going-wrong. We like to complain about work and love and the weather and money and our families and the economy and our health. I do it too—I'm not a total Pollyanna hippie. But I'm seeing it in a new way now. I get these emails from babycenter.com, which I like because they're weekly updates on the approximate size and development of the baby, but which I dislike because that info is inevitably followed by a laundry list of things that are probably making me miserable—veins and hemorrhoids and mood swings and barfing and fear and relationship problems and all this shit that is totally valid, and which happens to many, many women, and some of which may certainly happen to me. And it's important that women get info about it all—but it's also nice to get some love and support, some yay you're doing it, this is so amazing! They once had an article on "Things I Wish I'd Known About Pregnancy Before I Was Pregnant" and they had this immense list of awful shit that women hated about being pregnant. There was like one quote that was actually about how nice it was to be pregnant. And this week's email had the subject heading: "7 fears expectant fathers face" followed by a list of 7 pretty obvious things that a dude might be worried about (with little to no actual advice about how to manage these fears). But is there is companion list of "7 things expectant fathers look forward to"? Or "7 awesome things about being a dad"? Nope. What To Expect When You're Expecting (which should be retitled What To Be Totally Freaked Out About When You're Expecting) does the same thing—for each month of your pregnancy, you get a chapter filled with questions about all the things that can go wrong with your body and mind. So yes, I know that I'm having a very privileged pregnancy in many ways, and I'm lucky to be in such a good place, but that's exactly the point. It does not suck for everyone. And I have no shame in being blatantly, publicly happy about it all.

The other night Jenn was talking about this exact thing, as she relayed the fear she had about raising Arlo as a single parent—so many people 'offered' her sympathetic words of 'advice' about the challenges, the struggles, the misery, the exhaustion, all of which led Jenn—uncertain about her pregnancy in the first place—to develop a lot of fear around having him, sure that there was no way she's be able to work and raise him and stay sane. And as she says, YES, it's been hard and YES it's been challenging but oh my god she has the most wonderful intelligent awesome son that she loves to death and when she was up at 3am nursing him instead of sleeping she was tired, sure, but she was nursing this incredible baby that smelled so good and was so sweet and loving.

And so, there's the trade-off. That's the shit. It will be hard and awesome. It will be crazy and beautiful. It will overwhelm and overjoy. It will change us. Our lives will be different. Things will never be the same. Fucking duh.

It will blow our minds, in many ways. And I do believe we are ready to have our minds blown.

Ok. Rant complete. I am playing Fleet Foxes through the tiny ipod speaker next to my belly. I think she likes it.

Happy birthday mom! Thank you for making me, raising me, loving me, supporting me. Shit, now I'm going to cry.

And things, they do just grow

2009-04-03T09:32:00.000-07:00

Everyday now I get bigger; this is not—as I pointed out last night Jason, Tonya, and our wonderful new friends Lara and Mitch—going to change. As in, every time you see me, every time I see me, I'll look bigger. Wonderfully crazily bigger. And all because there is a tiny creature growing inside of me. And growth just happens, and it always surprises us. And tends to humble, too.

A few days ago I went outside to salvage scrawny lemons from our tree, and I perused our 'garden', which is currently an overgrown wild winter zone (last summer my neighbors and I had little plots; mine was a failed struggle that did yield some good salad greens, and tiny tiny chard; Suzannah grew some happy-seeming herbs; and Melody—who sheepishly soaked her stuff in Miracle-Gro—had a freakishly abundant explosion of everything). Amongst the weeds and things I found all this mint, oregano, and parsley; pea shoots everywhere; my chard thriving against all odds; and a few other leafy shoots that look like comeback kids from last year. And I thought, now isn't that just so amazing! No one is watering or tending or caring about this area, and here is all this life sprouting up, just doing its own thing. And then I looked around at the rest of the yard, filled with grasses and plants and trees and flowers, some of which I can identify—rosemary, oak tree, bamboo, palm, agapanthus, cala lily, lavender—and much of which I cannot—especially that shrub/tree with the year-round lavender flowers and soft leaves that yellow after a while—and I thought Well shit, I guess things do just grow. No one's tending anything in the wild yard that we share with our neighbors—though Dina did just mow down at the tall weeds and grasses, hurray—and it all just blooms and dies and blooms again, or blooms and blooms and blooms in the case of many perennials.

And so of course I then look down at my belly, bigger than it was the day before, and the day before that, and thought I know that her growth and health is inextricably linked to my own health, my own care taking of my body, I'm not actually doing much to facilitate her growth. Certainly, my body is doing unbelievable magical miraculous things as it divides cells and creates an entirely new human, but what am I, as the sentient, thinking actor in this equation, doing? I eat food, I drink water and tea and juice (and wine), I take prenatal vitamins, I exercise, I sleep, I rest, I laugh, I think and talk and do basically everything that I normally do—and even when I am not tending my belly, staring at it, talking to it or about it, she's doing her thing, growing and stretching and just being made. In the same way that the good earth is facilitating the mint and the parsley and those little pea shoots, my body is building a baby, whether I'm paying attention or now. And that is humbling and beautiful.

Family pics from the last few days...

2009-04-01T22:42:00.000-07:00

This is not our baby. Don't be alarmed. This is Beau Jr., the 5-week old son of Jason's brother Beau and his girlfriend Rebecca. We got to meet him in Nevada—we both did a lot of newborn- holding, which was terribly exciting.
Barb, Doug and I in Doug's garden. Today he was weeding.
Gramma Judi, me, and the bebe
Gramma Judi listening to Ivy
She got to feel some pretty epic kicks

It's Not ALL About the Baby...

2009-04-01T22:38:00.000-07:00

Buzz and I at Crissy Field. He's telling me how much he loves nice weather.
Henry sleeps on his back, just like my husband.
The Holy Trinity of Cute

Basically, what I'm feeling is this...

2009-03-30T14:02:00.000-07:00

I'm planning some kind of big epic post on birth culture, The Business of Being Born, midwifery, language, hospitals, and judgment (ooo, exciting, right!?) as well as a slew of new photos from our weekend in Nevada with Pa and Gramma Judi, but for now, can I just say how freakin' excited I am to have a baby with Jason?!?!? Arrrrrgggg I could not be happier. Sometimes it's overwhelming, this joy. But always in a wondrous overflowing magical way.

Also, Amrit came this morning: all's looking great. She pricked my finger to check my glucose levels (perfect! spot on! pancreas working fine, no signs of prenatal diabetes!); checked my ph levels (all good, the water drinking is working---no protein in the urine!); checked the baby's position: head down, nestled right on top of my bladder (thanks dear), right where she should be. And though she can still flip around and do her thing, it's a good sign (in terms of not being breech) that she 'knows where she should be' (Amrit called her 'organized' which indicates that, thus far, she is taking after neither of us); gave me a shot of Rhogam in my butt (my blood type is O-, and Jason's +, so as a precaution I got a shot in the butt to ensure that, should Ivy be +, and should our blood mix, my antibodies won't attack her); and generally told me that we are developing and growing and proceeding delightfully apace.

Week in Review

2009-03-24T21:10:00.000-07:00

A round-up of Things That Have Happened In the Past Several Days...

Spring has sprung, which is so fabulous. Today was warm and sunny, and it's supposed to remain that way. Huzzah! Huzzah to asparagus and artichokes and green garlic and spring onions and baseball and daffodils and little green shoots jumping out of the ground.
We met some awesome new pregnant friends on Saturday, thanks to the matchmaking skills of my pal Mei Gee, who mentioned via Gchat that she knows so many women who are pregnant right now. And I was like I want to know some too! And so she connected me Lara and Lisa who are a) my age b) freshly married c) having their first baby d) having girls e) totally cool f) married to totally cool guys. And also they live nearby—Temescal and Alameda, respectively—which is excellent. Tomorrow night I'm having another blind date with a pregnant chick, this one being Kate, the best friend of Rachel's GT, who lives in SF. I'm realizing how much I enjoy talking to other preg women, and really, just being in the same space as them. As I told Kelli when we were talking on the phone tonight, I have many amazingly supportive friends, and I adore them all, but it's nice to spend time with women who are going through and experiencing similar things as I am. Plus, I don't want to bore my non-preg friends with too much of the minutiae of preglife. (Though you guys are wonderfully engaged and curious and receptive thus far, and I super appreciate it!)
On that note, last night I started prenatal yoga (with the aforementioned Lara) at Piedmont Yoga Studio, which is a hopskipjump from our house. I've been planning to do some prenatal yoga action, but was being kinda snobby about it, thinking I'd wait until I was bigger and more unwieldy, cuz it might be too easy and wussy for my buff hardcore yogi ass. Ha ha ha. Ego check! Preg body reality check! I could barely hold downward dog for 10 freaking seconds, and a basic cat/cow with a gentle twist and arm stretch was a challenge. I felt good in triangle and tree, but in general, I felt very aware of the new limitations of this body. The class was wonderful, and again, it was so cool to be surrounded by preg women at all different stages—some were 15 weeks, some 38 and ready to go! The teacher, Cynthea Denise, was great, and clearly very focused on the community aspect of the class (which, really, is what I was hoping for). We spent the last 15 minutes in a circle, saying our names, how many weeks, etc. Twas awesome all around.
Continuing with the theme of "Doing pregnancy-related things with other pregnant people", Jason and I start our birth class this Thursday, with Laura Todaro. It's a homebirth-oriented class that promises to go over all the basics that a preg-prep class does, but with a focus on the homebirth experience, and without all the how-to-navigate-the-hospital info. Again, another opportunity to hang out with preg women and their partners, and maybe make new friends.
Physically, I'm feeling good still. Definitely feeling...bigger. I've had some sleeping trouble lately (thought I slept great last night, until Jason, who rose at 4:30am for some inexplicable reason, decided to come in the room and make me watch a youtube video of a cat licking a baby fox) It's not that my belly is uncomfortable...more like I wake up constantly to pee, and I also just wake up feeling like I wish there were more sleeping positions available to me. My hips fall asleep easily, and I just get kind of...uncomfy. I can't imagine this improving as the months go on, so I'm trying to get used to it. The pee thing is cool in a way—I feel like it's training me to wake up every two hours in order to get up and do something. Granted, nursing a crying baby is a different experience than going pee, but hey, I'll take the prep where I can get it.
Today I had some mild heartburn, and some more round ligament pain when walking too fast. I really have to slooooow dooooown. I have to become what I don't like: a slow walker. Agggg. Slow walkers! So annoying! Always in the way, never keeping up. I like to walk at a brisk clip, man. But sometimes, now, said clip hurts. And I must plod on down the halls of Oakland School for the Arts like some old lady, while the agile youths scurry past. Bah. Slow walking.
In other news, Henry the cat is insane, and will have his balls snipped as soon as the Oakland SPCA gives me an appointment. He also has the fluffiest tail on earth.
And finally, congrats are in order for Jason and all the White Whales, who just scored a sweet new redesign job for Middlebury College (that website will be much cooler eventually). Yay! I look forward to Jason figuring out how to bring Vermont maple syrup home in his carry-on without it getting confiscated by the Burlington Syrup TSA Squad.

These Are a Few of My Favorite Things

2009-03-24T20:31:00.000-07:00

It's so cliche, but I am loving ice cream. Strawberry in particular.
And really, just strawberries in general. Especially with Grape Nuts and almond milk, or yogurt and honey. Or sliced on top of strawberry ice cream...
Prenatals, vegetarian non-fish derived DHA for baby's brain, and Vitamin E oil for the belly

I can't believe how much I pee. Thus, I love toilet paper.
Check my long-ass nails. They're fun but mildly cumbersome.

Belly Schatz

2009-03-24T20:29:00.000-07:00

My cavernous bellybutton.

The Classic Rock of Baby Clothes

2009-03-20T11:39:00.000-07:00

My dear dear mother likes to save things. Not in a pack-rat hoarder way mind you—it's more of a nostaligia thing. My dear dear father has built attic storage space and a series of backyard sheds to hold the saved things. Sometimes we joke about it, but oh how grateful I am that she saved several boxes of my baby clothes, books, and toys. A few weeks ago I went home and we unearthed it all, and sat on the couch pulling out adorable thing after adorable thing. I remembered so many of the tiny dresses and t-shirts and sweaters, and I pored over my favorite books, recalling each illustration so so vividly. It's amazing how much she saved, and how well most items have held up. Among it all are a ton of dresses and sweaters that my Nana made, complete with little "Handmade by Mary" tags. So, so special and amazing that Ivy Cat gets to wear tiny sweaters knitted by her great-grandma.

Yesterday Ruby (my personal organizer and interior designer) helped me get the baby room more established: we bought a changing table off CL and bought (um, pricey) fabric to make curtains and got paint swatches. And we put tiny tiny baby clothes in the dressers and filled a drawer with tiny tiny socks (all courtesy of Jenn and Arlo, thank you!) and tiny tiny onesies (again, mostly Jenn and Arlo!) and on and on. Pretty much every item of clothing made us swoon and oooh and ahhh, but I do think that my collection of rad baby t-shirts, circa 1978-79, are my faves.

2009-03-20T11:34:00.000-07:00

The smallest shoes! Those were my red sneakers. No laces, apparently. Very cool.
A Nana Original.
The partner to the stegosaurus shirt shown below. Batik happy unicorn. LOVE IT.
Not that I'm a Yankees fan or any nonsense like that, but this one's a classic.
My dad brought this one back for me when he went to Cooperstown to see Willie Mays get inducted in 1979 (ask my dad to tell that story sometime. It's a good one.)

2009-03-20T11:14:00.000-07:00

This one is perhaps my favorite. It's the tiniest thing ever, and that hippie stegosaurus is so rad. Our dear friend Barbara Rosso gave it to my mom when I was born.
Part I of the Baseball Series. I was SO into this shirt. It's more of a toddler size, but I had to include it. Fun Kate Fact: When I was four I named all my antique dolls after A's players, including Rob Picciolo.
A La Leche League original.
Bwaaaah, Snoopy and Woodstock!
This matching Bert and Ernie set is so freaking sweet.

On Crying

2009-03-16T17:15:00.000-07:00

A new development: I feel like crying constantly. It's like the day before my period, but everyday, and no period in sight (for a while). I am not sad—I am the complete opposite of sad. But there's a new hormonal welling up of emotion happening here. I welcome it, I do. I am forgetful, I am teary, I am happy, I am very visibly pregnant, and I still get up to pee at least 3 times a night. This is my status update.

I almost cried at kickboxing last week while I was on the floor, stretching, and "Sweet Child O Mine" came on and I imagined Jason and I singing it to Ivy; and then "We Belong" came on and I almost cried because of that because it reminds me of Jason; and I did cry last night when Jason was talking to my belly, telling Ivy about all of the fun things they're going to do together, and how he's going to read to her and sing to her and clap with her and feed her so mommy can get sleep; I cry or almost cry when I'm trying to express something and am not quite getting it out right; I cry or almost cry thinking about the amazingness of my friends and family, all of Ivy's aunties...when we have dinner with Kim and get psychic dictionary readings from her; and when Julia sends awesome enthusiastic emails; when my mom gives me more cute stuff that she got at the thrift store, and when she has me lift my shirt so she can stare at my belly and do some crying herself; when we spend the day in San Jo with Kirstie and Kayce and all these Willow Glen people who are so wonderfully supportive of their wondrous engagement (well, marriage); when Jenn gives us enormous amazing amounts of baby clothes and barf rags and bibs and socks and hats and convinces us that yes, we are going to need it all (and more!); when Jason is just completely wonderful, which is seriously quite often; and when Anna and Katie and Rachel send me sweet messages about this blog and I realize that people actually read what I'm writing, and enjoy it, and feel close to and connected to this magical process.

And I cry or almost cry for sad reasons too, like when I pass Children's Hospital and think of sick kids and their parents, and today, when I emailed with Louisa about the funeral she went to for a 5-year old boy who was killed by a truck in Berkeley recently—and she gave me the link to the website that has been made for him and I could barely look at it, and I realized that, despite my sense of calm and peace, I am affected in new ways by things relating to children dying or hurting or being harmed. I felt the gorgeous scary weight of this thing that Jason and I are doing, this bringing a life into the world and hoping beyond hope that we can keep it safe and healthy and happy and warm and alive. I'm not afraid of it, I just feel it, deeply. These thoughts in particular have made me cry several times today, and will probably keep me crying on and off for the rest of my life.

I also almost cried when Ellen had Portia DeRossi on her show today and they were really loving and sweet. My sister almost cried too, and she's not pregnant. Fleet Foxes makes me almost cry, and so does Neko Case. And Tom Waits, but that's obvious.

I definitely thought that writing this would make me cry, but it hasn't seemed to. Maybe that's because I just drank a cup of tea and I have to pee super bad and that's kind of dominating my realm of physical sensations right now.

Anyway. To all you awesome friends who are reading this and supporting us and being so kind and present and loving and excited and generous: THANK YOU! I love you guys. Ok, now I'm almost crying...

2009-03-16T14:26:00.000-07:00

At Auntie Kim's warmest coziest nicest place in SF---just to the right are big windows with epic view of entire city. I am digesting yummy coconut rice and curried lentils.
Feeling her move. Belly shiny due to application of Auntie Kim's awesome home-made salve.
Aerial view

Check It Out, I Look Pregnant

2009-03-16T14:06:00.001-07:00

At Kirstie and Kayce's engagement party in San Jo. I can finally rock the wrap dress (never looked quite right pre-preg. One needs curves for the wrap.)

Me and Auntie Kirstie, the engaged supermodel with magical lustrous hair

The nametag on my belly says IVY CAT, of course

Grandma Barbara with her hot new rhinestone-y glasses and party sweater

Family portrait in bedroom. (Is this inappropriate? I hope not.)

I Forgot

2009-03-14T22:48:00.000-07:00

Just an FYI: My pregnancy brain—pregnesia, I've now heard it called—is so bad, that I was just flossing my teeth and remembered that I'd been meaning to google 'forgetfulness during pregnancy', or something to that effect, in order to find out if there are any actual studies done on this phenomenon of being totally and ridiculously forgetful during pregnancy. And then I walked out of the bathroom, sat down at my laptop, and completely forgot what I was doing there. I knew there was something I wanted to google, but geez, what the hell was it? And then I remembered, and I laughed at myself, and I googled it, and I found some lame articles on lame pregnancy sites and didn't bother reading them. I won't remember what they say anyway.

The F Word

2009-03-12T11:59:00.000-07:00

I've been super busy this week, working with my dear friends and co-editors, Tisa Bryant (in from Brooklyn) and Miranda Mellis, to finally finish Vol 2 of The Encyclopedia Project...It's been in the works for something like 3 years now (!!!), and we're finally getting close to completion. So rather than my usual routine of relaxing navel gazing, I've been staring at InDesign, discussing cross-referencing, and loving the opportunity to spend time with these amazing women, and this bad-ass project. Thus, I've been off the blog for a bit...

I've been thinking about many many things this week—this house we're excited about; words beginning with F-K; the new Fleet Foxes and My Morning Jacket albums; publishing; book design; new business for Jason; the fact that the sun's out...One thing that's been on my mind is my favorite F word: feminism. I find myself pondering what it means to have 'a feminist pregnancy', to be a feminist parent, to raise a feminist child. And broader still: what it means to be a feminist, period. I could go on and on, and probably will at some point, but, for now: Sunday was International Women's Day, and March is Women's History Month. In honor of this, I did a reading at SF State on Monday night with the always awesome Amanda Davidson. Charmingly titled "A Night of Kick-Ass Feminist Readings", it was in the dorms (some kind of lounge that felt like a stand-up comedy club) and was put together by a former student of hers—a charming kid named Tyler. He gave a brief talk before we read, and mentioned how much flack he got for wanting to put on a reading with the word 'Feminist' in the title—that even in oh-so-tolerant-SF, people still express surprise/disdain/indignation/dismissiveness when a man identifies as a feminist. In his endearing awkward manner, he stated what I believe needs to be stated by more men, more of the time: that it's OK to call yourself a feminist. In fact, it's not just men—I can't tell you how many smart, conscious, strong female college students I've encountered who offer that tired old line: I mean, I'm not a feminist, but [I think women should have equal right/the same opportunities as men/the same pay as men/the right to do what they want with their bodies, etc etc etc] And I'm always like, Well sweetie, I hate to break it to you, but it kind of sounds like you are a feminist. And they hem and haw and hedge and say things about not wanting to be all intense and political and (my favorite) angry... The word carries such stigma; these young women fear alienating men (and other women), and/or don't want to be seen as some crazy man-hating militant, and young men don't want to seem 'gay', or too political, or whatever. So it was refreshing to see this skinny college kid proclaim his feminism on a tiny stage to a bunch of freshmen. And then it was fun to get up a read a chapter from my book, my big belly getting kicked and jostled under my grey sweatshirt. Hopefully it meant something to the students in the audience to see a (pretty hot) pregnant chick (thankyouverymuch) and a college dude celebrating the awesomeness of feminism.

All of which leads me to Our President, believe it or not. I'm following closely the recent political developments concerning women's health and reproductive rights—these issues are super important to me in general, and now that I'm about to bring a new tiny woman into the world, they're extra relevant. Today's policies affect her as well as me; today's Supreme Court nominees will be hers; today's health care reforms and funding decisions will be hers; today's sex ed policies will be hers. So this morning when I read Feministing and saw this video of Obama speaking about the new Council on Women and Girls that he's establishing, I was so, so moved and heartened. While he doesn't come out and say the F word, it's there in the speech. It's there in the way he reminds us that women's rights are everyone's right, everyone's concern, everyone's responsibility. It's there in the way he speaks with reverence about his mother and grandmother, and the way he slyly acknowledges the men in the room (second row, ya'll). It's there in his reversal of the Bush administration's devastating "Mexico City" policy, or Global Gag Rule, which denied funding to international family planning/health orgs that provide abortion. Anyway, in watching this clip, I realized that my excitement about this announcement was really not about me—it's about our daughter, and the future that she can grow up in.

Thanks, Mr. President. You big ol feminist, you.

Cornflake Girl

2009-03-07T22:08:00.000-08:00

Baby baby baby. Something is making me cranky. Irritable. I smell people’s breath and I don’t like it. But soon all I’ll smell is you, your little head, your thin thin skin, in my arms and your smell will bloom everywhere.

I feel you in various ways now—little earthquakes deep within, heavy weight when I bend down, something in the way during stretching, sleeping, being. Looking like a pregnant woman, visibly carrying my round tight future.

5 ½ months. I sleep on my sides and my hips fall asleep. Sheet creases embedded when I wake up to pee two, three, four times a night. Wake warm; feel pressure; sit up; grab robe; dodge cats; pee; return; warm again.

I’m playing music for you everyday; I have an iTunes playlist and I wonder if that concept will be relevant for you when you’re old enough to read this. It has many of my favorite albums on it—538 songs. Joni Mitchell is fading right now, replaced by a spunky jangly Billy Bragg and Wilco. This album—Mermaid Avenue—is perfect for dancing with a baby. We’ll twirl around and bounce and you’ll learn to clap along and bob your head and we’ll show you off to everyone we know.

There are so many people waiting to meet you; you’ll have a slew of aunties, uncles too, but so many aunties. All these women with so much to tell you. Landslides of advice, endless days of stories.

Back to me, because that’s where you are: I want to describe the sensation of your movements. To Jason I said it’s like the briefest private earthquake—a sudden shift in my foundation. And then I said it’s like that feeling when you’re on a plane and the ride is smooth and suddenly there is a blip of turbulence, a quick drop or shake, and you feel it in your gut and then the ride is smooth again. Your big kicks remind me of that. (Now playing: Mirah, and now Ryan Adams) Right now you’re still—sleeping, meditating, relaxing in that hammock that you’ve got there. Other movements are flutters, bumps, hops, hiccups. Sometimes I want so badly to see what you’re doing in there, but I respect your privacy, darling. That’s a wonderful thing about this stage of the relationship—we are so together, but you get to stay hidden. And right now, in moments like this, I’m also hidden. So we’re both alone in this wondrous way. And yet we’re keeping each other alive.

While My Guitar Gently Weeps. Here’s one I want you to know. We can all sing along. Now Tori Amos singing This is not real, this is not, this is not really happening…You bet your life it is. Sometimes, often, this is how I feel, but not in a bad way you see, but in a very calm and practical and oh my god ok way. As in I am doing something, whatever, standing sitting walking moving and I can—still—forget for a moment that I am pregnant, there is a baby inside me that will emerge fro my body, that will be ours forever, that will alter the course of our every single day and moment. And forget is the wrong word, because it implies some sort of process, some act of un-remembering, and for me, it’s more that the fact is just not in my roiling thought pattern for this one moment of consciousness—and I sit down to pee and I’m thinking of houses and pets and work and the weather and I look down and there is this belly, this round hill, and I think oh whoa. Right. This is…happening.

You bet your life it is.

You bet your life it is.

And how enamored we are of this fact.

Tiny Astronaut

2009-03-04T20:01:00.000-08:00

My pregnancy-oriented writing has been taking place in three separate modes and spaces: this blog, which I'm now attempting to write on (in?) daily; a Word Doc called "Baby Notes", where I just write and write with no real rules or structure; and a small brown notebook, where I write letters to Ivy, and sometimes to myself. I think I'll start folding the non-blog writing into the blog...

February 12

This. This changes everything. I am new and very much the same. In the mirror my body is mine but I’ve never seen it before—brick-colored nipples at the ends of full real breasts; a gliding swelling curve out in front. And how I think about language—suddenly three letters I know very well that make a word I’ve said who knows how many times, suddenly that is everything, our future: I V Y. Hello.

When she kicks me I imagine her twirling weightless, a tiny astronaut in the footage of the shuttle that they show on the news: flipping around, laughing, floating orange juice escaping from the glass, sailing in bright globs across the room. Bouncing off the walls, the ceiling, her ceiling now is past my bellybutton, two or three fingers above it, and this is all occurring as I sit still in a chair and write this. This is happening within me. She is spinning and spinning with the smallest fingernails one could imagine, with a downy coat of soft soft fur, wee mammal that she is, a face we will soon know.

We’re waiting to know you. The anticipation is wonderful and strange and like most significant new phases you can think and imagine and envision and guess, but you cannot know what it is like until you are absolutely and purely in it. And this time right now is the faraway past, the part where you just didn’t know. The part where you can just sit on your aunt’s comfortable chair and eat cheese and crackers and green apples slices and write and write and wonder. You can lounge in your soft warm bed and ease out when you please and make a leisurely breakfast for one, two if he’s not off to work right away. The part where your breasts were still milkless, your stomach still stretched tight, your instincts still waiting, crouched in the wings, ready to jump in and play themselves out.

All of Your Questions, Answered!

2009-03-03T23:11:00.000-08:00

When you’re pregnant, people tend to ask variations on the same series of questions. Not that I’m complaining by any means, as they’re the questions that I’ve asked—and continue to ask—of pregnant women. They're important questions—they help us feel connected to this strange, mysterious, magical process. (Please keep asking me these questions, and more, as my answers will most certainly change as this whole thing progresses.)

What follows is a compendium of my current answers. You can infer what the questions are...

1. 23 weeks. So, almost 6 months. OMG!

2. The end of June. Or beginning of July. Or middle of June. Something like that. They say first babies are usually late, but you never know...my cousin Liza's first baby was a few weeks early. Based on my last period, the date is June 28th, I think.

3.* A Cancer, if it’s late June, a Gemini if it’s before the 23rd, I think.

4.* Yeah, sensitive Cancers.

5.* Yeah, Jason’s a Gemini. I like Geminis. I like Cancers too. Whatever, it’s my baby, I’ll like it regardless of astrological sign.

6. Awesome. I feel awesome. Lots of energy, really happy, calm, peaceful, excited. So far it's been a very easy pregnancy [knocks on wood immediately]. Not much morning sickness during the first trimester, just some nausea for a couple weeks, barfed once. I was super tired and exhausted but that ended once the second trimester started. Now I feel great. Definitely gassy a lot and indigestion-y sometimes, but I have Tums and papaya enzymes for that. Other than that, my gums bleed when I floss, I pee constantly, and I get winded walking up hills and more than one flight of stairs. So far, so good.

7. Not really…I feel pretty mellow and even. I’m not a very moody person, and I don’t tend to be deeply impacted by hormonal changes. Sometimes I do feel more irritable than usual, but I try to keep it in check.

8. It’s a girl. Well, we’re not 100% sure of that, as it’s hard to tell for sure with girls and ultrasounds, but it seemed pretty certain that she doesn’t have a penis or a scrotum. Plus I really feel like she’s a girl…

9. Yes… [and then depending on the person and/or my mood]

a. Oh, we’re still keeping it to ourselves

b. Her name, my dear friend and/or random person who I feel like telling, will be Ivy. Ivy Catherine. We’ll call her Ivy Cat…it’s a name we’ve had picked out for years.

i. Ivy was my Nana’s aunt’s name (though she spelled it Ivie) and I’ve always loved the name. And then one day, years ago, when Jason and I were still in the early throes of dating, the name ‘Ivy Cat’ popped into my head and I loved it. I sent Jason a text message saying something to the effect of Let’s have a baby and name her Ivy Cat, and he replied with an effusive voicemail message, which went something like Oh my god let’s have a baby named Ivy Cat RIGHT NOW! And ever since then it’s been the name we use to refer to our future child…and now it’s the name we’ll give to this one right here.

ii. Ivy Catherine Schatz Pontius. Not hyphenated—my last name will be a second middle name. I hemmed and hawed on this for a bit, and thought a lot about how to negotiate the last name, and in the end decided to keep it simple, and to resist the patriarchy in other ways that don’t concern my kid’s name. Plus I like Jason’s last name a lot.

10. He’s thrilled. Supportive and excited and involved and all those good adjectives. He’s really an incredible partner. I’m super super seriously lucky. And he doesn’t complain about my gas.

11. Nothing too crazy…I definitely am way more into dessert that I normally am. I usually like salty foods, but I’m liking sweets. I ate like eight cupcakes this week, and I’m really feeling ice cream. I’m loving ice cream. And cookies. My mom's cookies, and her neighbor Donna's cookies. Oh, and Snickers. Snickers Dark in particular. I have no qualms about indulging since I'm otherwise very healthy, though I don't like the aftertaste of sugar very much. But while it's in my mouth, I'm into it.

12. I’m not crazy about raw onions, which is weird because I normally am a big fan, but they leave this aftertaste that I can’t quite handle. But that’s it, I think. Jason got some garlic fries a few months ago and the smell made me nauseous, and I ordinarily love that smell.

13. Not really. I definitely eat a lot more than usual, though lately I’m trying to eat smaller meals to avoid indigestion and heartburn. But in general, I’m eating the same types of foods. Lots of greens and grains and dried apricots and nuts and protein—eggs and cheese and quinoa and all that good stuff. Smoothies, yogurt, fruit. Prenatal vitamin. Epic amounts of water and juice. Tea. Tons of tea.

14. Yeah, I have a cup here and there. I didn’t drink it for the first trimester, even though it’s quite fine to do so. But I mostly drink tea. Some black, lots of peppermint and ginger and a pregnancy blend that I got from Elephant Pharmacy but they went out of business so I have to find it elsewhere. It has nettles—good iron source—and red raspberry leaf—good for the uterus—and, oh I don’t know, a bunch of good herbs in it.

15. No, I don't really miss it. I’m definitely having the occasional glass of wine or beer. No hard alcohol, but wine and beer, yes. I really believe that it’s not a big deal, and it relaxes me and tastes great and millions of pregnant wine-and-beer-drinking European women can't be too wrong. What’s interesting is that I have no desire to have more than just one glass (which is, um, highly unusual for me). It’s like my body knows its limit, and after one it’s just like ok, that’s fine.

16. Yes, she’s definitely really active. It’s the craziest feeling, so private and surreal and nice. Like she’s reminding me that she’s there. I can feel her getting stronger, too, especially in the last few weeks. Jason has felt many a kick.

17. I don’t really know. 15 pounds? I don’t have a scale, and I don’t really care. As long as I feel good.

18. I’m still kickboxing, and walking, and doing yoga at home.

19. Yes, kickboxing. I’m not sparring or doing any contact stuff—it’s a lot of cardio and strength training, and bag work. I’m modifying it all and going much slower and easier, but it feels great to go to class and it’s especially great to keep boxing. I’m going very easy on kicks, as I don’t want to strain or pull anything—during pregnancy you become much more flexible (your body starts producing a hormone called relaxin that, among other functions, loosens your pelvic joints and ligaments to facilitate birth) so you have to be careful not to overdo it with stretching, etc. I’m already very flexible, so I have to be careful not to overextend myself. But yes, kickboxing, I love it. I don’t do any jumpy or bouncy stuff, and I don’t do hardcore ab work, and I just listen to my body and don’t push myself. Once it’s nicer out, I’ll start swimming too. I just have to get a new suit. I figure one of those two-piece Speedos will work. Or I can cut a big hole in my current suit…

20. Yes. Yes I am. So, so, so excited. It's...it's just amazing. I love it. [Shrugs, smiles. What else is there to say?]

*This series of questions generally only occurs with, you know, astrologically-mined individuals. But it does occur more frequently than you might think (depending, of course, on who you are. I don't actually know who reads this thing.)

"For I have never felt this way before..."

2009-03-02T11:01:00.000-08:00

I'm currently reading the book that my former teacher and thesis advisor, Carole Maso, published after the birth of her daughter Rose. A Room Lit By Roses: A Journal of Pregnancy and Birth is, well, a journal of pregnancy and birth. The title does not lie. It's enjoyable to read, as it's very recognizably Carole, and it's comforting and familiar to be in her lilting sentences and fragments of honest, forthright thought. This passage that I read yesterday really struck me; it so beautifully and honestly echoes what I'm feeling about my own process and practice of writing and being and experiencing right now:

"I have never felt compelled to keep a journal. On occasion I have with all good intentions attempted to record the flow of my life---only after a few weeks to leave it behind...Far too many hours were spent composing fiction...I must say the idea of keeping an ongoing record of my life exhausted me, bored me, even appalled me a little...I feel suspicious of that earnest attempt at explanation---it always seemed oddly reductive...

But it is different with this. The perception of time, ordinarily fuzzy for me---I worked vaguely by seasons or semesters---had in an instant changed. I moved out of the blur of my life and was placed in the crucible of time. Suddenly I was counting---week four, week five---and noticing the daily changes. Meanwhile there were all sorts of little books to keep me company---what was happening exactly, and how I was feeling probably and was going to feel. I've never felt so---well---narrated, so attended to, accompanied...And wanting to chronicle it, hold it all, keep it somehow. How strange to feel the explicit workings of time on the psyche and on the body. The dramatic workings of tie: to be inside it---intimate with it like never before. To be able to feel its accomplishments.

This will all disappear, will fall eventually back into abstraction, or remain forever in my heat unarticulated and then, after a while, lost altogether. This book is a chalice. And my body is now a chalice---holding the most sacred, most precious...Keep this. Memorize this. Hold this time close, regardless of the outcome. I don't want to lose this. For I have never felt this way before and will never feel this way again."

Thank you Carole. Thank you.

The Calendar Has Spoken

2009-03-01T12:54:00.000-08:00

FEBRUARY

MARCH

NEW OFFICE

I love my Nikki McClure calendar, and will buy one every year for as long as she creates them. Each month has a word, one powerful word, and a cut-from-paper-with-an-Exacto-knife illustration to go with it. I find them to be horoscopic, if that’s even a word (oh good, it is).

February was EXCAVATE: a blue and black image of a heap of dark matter with two hands, arms, and shovel emerging from the top. Specks of dirt fling back and away from the shovel. Someone is digging deep; someone is immersed. Burrowed away in herself for February, this short strange cold month, over so quick, suddenly dropping you in the third month of the year, and New Year’s Eve still seems like something that happened a few weeks ago.

FEBRUARY. EXCAVATE.

Inward, in depth, gazing down and unearthing. And I realize that is what I’ve been doing for the past 28 days. When people ask me what I’ve been up to, I get a bit tongue-tied, unsure—what to say?

Have I just been sitting around on the couch, staring out the window, drinking tea, looking at the cats and the internet and sometimes the TV and walking the dog and eating?

Writing letters to my baby, writing about being pregnant. Reading vampire novels and baby blogs, searching Craigslist, napping, being sick, enjoying the rain. Reading Ina May Gaskin's Guide To Childbirth and Beth Ann Fennelly's Great With Child and various other books.

Watching reality TV shows about cooks, bachelors breakdancers and fat people. Gchatting and Facebooking and texting and playing music on the iPod for the baby, listening to music constantly. Beatles and Joni Mitchell and Joanna Newsom and Alela Diane and the Smiths and Yo La Tengo and Nina Simone and Bonnie Prince Billy and Iron and Wine and Bob Dylan and Ani DiFranco and Tori Amos and Stevie Wonder and all these classics, old favorites.

Talking to friends near and far, describing how I’m feeling, what’s going on, how’s the midwife, what’s the latest. Wanting to hug them all, these future Aunties, hoping that I get to see them soon. Talking to and Skyping with the soon-to-be grandparents, our excited and thrilled and wonderful parents, the women who once carried us around in their wombs, who felt our little kicks, who grew and stretched and marveled at this all. Kickboxing and stretching and rubbing my belly, oil and cocoa butter and shining and big.

Going to my parents’ house and reclaiming my baby clothes, my Fisher Price toys, my tiny baby shoes and favorite books. Going for walks with Aubs, hearing about her waitress adventures.

Teaching once a week, going out on occasion, saving money, eating in.

Feeling guilty for not writing more, not being more productive, then looking down at my round belly-buttoned moon and reminding myself that I am in fact producing a human, and that’s a pretty big deal.

But still: write more.

Looking at houses, thinking about houses, searching the internet for houses, talking endlessly with Jason about home-buying and owning and money-saving and money-spending, exploring new neighborhoods, considering Oakland, homebuying, mortgages, home, home, home, own rent own.

Feeling her twitch a bit, then feeling her kick, now feeling her thump and roil and rock out. Finding out it's a her. Utilizing feminine pronouns, buying pink things, picturing girl. Saying the word daughter. Our daughter.

Spending my days alone but not alone, imagining and contemplating and envisioning this new life in all its phases and forms. Spending my evenings with Jason on the couch, in bed, eating dinner, gazing at each other with big eyes and sometimes giddy smiles, constantly amazed by what we’re doing, what is happening. Buoyed by love and endlessly excited for the challenges and difficulties and wonders on the way. Understanding what this means, what we’re doing, becoming.

Reading through old notebooks and journals, cleaning out my files, throwing away and shredding and recycling years of receipts and bank statements and papers and ephemera and making new files and cleaning out the office, moving it to the back room. Buying a lovely blue crib from a sweet rich Rockridge family with two girls and getting that tiny glimpse of future (minus the rich and Rockridge parts) and setting up the crib and putting my baby blankets and stuffed animals in it and beginning to make the baby room, moving furniture and hundreds of books and hanging up the tiniest beautiful baby clothes on the little mini hangers.

And sometimes yes just sitting there staring out the window, doing nothing, eating popcorn watching Oprah walking the dog letting time pass and pass and suddenly it’s 5, 6, and Jason’s home and it’s time to workout, make dinner, watch TV, sleep. Sometimes, yes, doing nothing. But usually aware and feeling and thinking. But sometimes I suppose, just wonderful nothing.

Feeling clumsy, butter-fingered, beautiful, strong, supported, loved. Proud and confident. Yes, sometimes freaked out, in brief moments that feel good and necessary. Feeling bigger and heavier but not necessarily big or heavy and looking long-nailed and blood-filled and clear-skinned. Finally feeling pregnant, noticing it when I get up from sitting or lying down, just a bit more challenging, feeling it when I work out, slower, gentler, plank position so much harder. Actually looking pregnant, showing, noticing it in every reflective surface, every time I get dressed, pull my beloved BellaBand over my belly and over my unbuttoned jeans so that I can still wear my ‘normal’ clothes. My friends who haven’t seen me in a few months, weeks, days even and they say You’re even bigger than you were last Friday! Showing everyone, now, that this is a thing we are doing, is happening, everyday.

That’s a lot of excavation.

And then realized that today is March 1. Time to turn the page.

RESUME

RESUME

And a woven nest with one single white egg sitting in the middle.

On this rainy lovely Sunday, as I sit in my newly relocated office in the back of the house looking out the windows at our lush, wet, green yard, the grey sky, the wild trees and weeds and growing things, feeling inspired and calm and finally uncluttered, clear, productive, ready to write more, write more—this seems the perfect word, the perfect image to accompany this month.

I now resume.

Twilight of My Succubus

2009-03-01T11:23:00.000-08:00

I spent last night—wild Saturday night—on the couch with that damn Bella Cullen (nee Swan) and her irritating vampires travails. I’m on the fourth book of the Twilight “saga”, and feel compelled to finish because, shit, I need to know if the girl goes immortal or not. Louisa warned me of some strange and questionable happenings in this book, and I was definitely not expecting the fragile and wimpy Bella to seduce her new 300-year old husband on their romantic island honeymoon and then get knocked up by a succubus/incubus (we don’t yet know the sex) that is like draining the life from her. Yet she loves her baby, loves feeling it “nudge” her from within, and she valiantly resists the aborting desires of everyone around her (these books are Mormon morality tales masking as sexy teen vamp stories). That’s as far as I got—page 208—and then I went to bed.

Coincidentally (or not) yesterday was also the day that I realized I could see my belly moving when she kicks. And it was also the day when Jason was really able to feel big, obvious movements, not just tiny flicks and flutters. Serious thumps and jolts. His hand on my belly waiting and I don’t have to say to him There, did you feel that? And him vaguely nodding, I think so. Now we both feel it, and grin, and say hello back.

Before we went to sleep he asked whether I feel her movements in my dreams—Not yet I said, and then I went to sleep.

And then of course I had a totally intense dream about my tiny moving bulging succubus. I was in a body of water with Erica, one of my kickboxing instructors, and I was supposed to do some sort of competitive diving exercise—there was a treasure at the bottom of this ocean-that-then-became-a-pool, and she towed me around on a Wave Runner until we reached the edge of the pool and she was giving me instructions and the baby began to move in this intense way, where I could feel her as this huge ball in my belly, and it was poking out and moving so intensely and really kind of going nuts. I was afraid to look down or touch it, because I was afraid that I would see her, that her shape and form would be terrifyingly recognizable. It felt dangerous but not threatening—I wasn’t panicked, but I did wonder if diving to the bottom of the huge pool was OK, if it would be too much pressure. I told Erica that my baby was kicking a lot, and didn’t mention anything more.

And then my roiling succubus and I tried to dive to the bottom of the pool to retrieve green belts with small attached treasures. But I was unable to get to the bottom, and I don’t recall what happened after that.

I think she knows that I’m writing about her—she’s thumping me as I type, like Hello, I’m right here! I know you’re writing about me!

Sorry kid. I’m probably always going to be writing about you. And I'm sorry to refer to you as a succubus---you're totally not a succubus. It was just a dream.

Cribs

2009-02-23T23:12:00.001-08:00

Jason adopted his Mexican wrestler alter ego in order to assemble the crib.

My nesting instinct is starting to kick in, which has led me to troll Craigslist for cribs (among other baby-related things), as I feel like we can't set up the baby room without a crib. It just seems essential. Granted, nothing but stuffed animals will sleep in it for many many months, but still...Craigslist is awash in well-priced cribs that all look essentially the same, so when I found this one I got very excited. It's blue! An excellent blue, my favorite shade of blue. Cornflower blue is what I'd call it. Plus it's solid wood, and not from China, and not painted with lead paint, and not from Wal-Mart. And it retails for like $700, which is an insane amount to spend on a crib. The nice couple that sold it to us included very cute bedding, a crib bumper, and a Winnie-the-Pooh mobile: $100 total. I love Craigslist.

Jason set it up in the living room, and though it didn't take long, he did have to partially disassemble it to get it into the baby room, as it didn't fit through the door. Which was really quite charming.

So now it's all set up and is filled with stuffed animals and my baby blankets. So real. So very very real.

Pictures Not Related to Having the Flu

2009-02-16T12:18:00.001-08:00

OMG how totally cute is Henry? This is his preferred sleeping position: on his back, legs sprawled and sticking up, furry belly exposed, paws curled. Love it. Note, if you can, the excessive fur between his toes. It's Hobbit-ish.

Our pre-flu Best Day Ever/V-day brunch: bacon for Jason, OJ, blueberry Belgian waffles, sauteed bananas and sliced strawberries. Coffee and scrambled eggs not pictured.

BABY'S FIRST ONESIE!!! Amazing. Courtesy of Louisa. You can't really tell from this pic, but it's an excellent mint green color. Thanks, Lu!

When You're Pregnant and You Have the Flu, Do Not Google "flu and pregnancy"

2009-02-16T12:06:00.000-08:00

Seriously, don't. I know better than that, but somehow, at 5:30am after I'd been up all night barfing, etc, I decided to increase my discomfort by enabling internet-based paranoia. Once the results popped up, I realized what a dumb idea it was, and though I didn't even go beyond the first page of hits, it was enough to freak me out for a bit, and I was momentarily convinced that the baby was sure to get this stomach virus. I woke Jason up and he was very comforting and then I fell back asleep and woke up and called Amrit, who assured me that as long as I'm fever-free (I am), the baby is fine. It's just me who feels like crap. She also told me that the baby has a three-day food supply, so if I can't eat for a few days, she'll be ok. Which was good to know, as I didn't really eat yesterday. Today I had yogurt and toast. And lots of tea. Luckily it's stormy out, and a three-day weekend, so it's a good cozy time to be sick. Jason is not yet sick (fingers crossed), though he did join me in my lethargy yesterday (when he wasn't fetching me tea and Saltines), and we watched "Best in Show" (for the millionth time) and "Pineapple Express" (I love James Franco) and lots of TV and we napped and read US Weekly (thanks Aubs). And I'm making headway in the third Twilight book. God, Bella is such a freaking moron.

It sucks to be sick, especially since I've been feeling so totally awesome and strong and healthy. But I'm feeling better now, and am no longer barfing, which is excellent. And the baby is kicking up a storm, which is wondrous, though it does make my already-queasy and weird-feeling stomach feel even weirder. But I love it, and I'm glad one of us has energy.

Here's to the much-needed rain and to Valentine's Day and Scrabble and reality TV and my cats and to getting better and reading a lot and this couch, which is really unbelievably comfortable.

The Quickening

2009-02-09T15:49:00.000-08:00

At Abbot's Lagoon, up in the magical land of Pt. Reyes. This new sweater makes me look like a fat panda. But it's very soft and cozy.
In Inverness, at the home of our friend Louisa's stepfather. An incredible, incredible house.

"According to the Oxford English Dictionary, to "quicken" means "to reach the stage of pregnancy at which the child shows signs of life."

-From good ol' Wikipedia

The language of pregnancy keeps getting better and better. I have now experienced what is referred to as "quickening"; in other words, the baby's moving and I can feel it! The word 'quick' used to mean 'alive', and the term goes way back to fairly ancient times: the moment that the woman felt her baby move was the moment the baby was considered alive. Human life began at the first sign of movement, at least in the legal (and linguistic) sense; in many societies abortion became illegal once quickening occured. I am definitely not putting forth any sort of argument about human life and the fetus, but I can definitely say that it's damn cool to feel this tiny little thing poking around inside me.

It's often described as feeling like "popcorn popping" or "the fluttering of a butterfly". As an avid fan of popcorn, I'll go with the first one, as it's pretty accurate. It's like a little pop near the surface of my belly, like a tiny thing knocking on the inside of my stomach. It can be hard to discern from gas (of which I have plenty, thanks), but I'm getting better at distinguishing the sensations. I feel it most when I'm lying down, and though they're not very regular or strong yet, last night Jason was definitely able to feel it during a particularly long kicking session.

So, yay! She moves. She's quick. We quicken. It all sounds so fabulously witchy and medieval...

In other news I'm reading those stupid Twilight books. The first one was addicting and entertaining; the second one sucks and feels like it was written in a week (as it probably was). It's fun zipping through them, though, in a teenager kind of way.

And for the record, if anyone's counting or keeping track, I am 21 weeks along. I think. Something like that.

It's (Almost Certainly) A Girl

2009-02-04T17:07:00.000-08:00

Yup, the psychic stoner Hawaiian mystics that Jason and I met when we stayed in a treehouse on the Big Island were right all along, as were the bartender at the LAX Hilton, and the many others who said "Hmmm...I think it's a girl." I was right, too, it seems, as I have sensed, in some strange and inexplicable way, that this tiny creature (current length from head to toe: banana) is indeed a wee lady. Now, let it be known that this is not for sure, as it's often hard to tell with girls; when it's a boy, it's generally pretty obvious, but girls are (ahem) more nuanced and challenging to detect. Basically the ultrasound technician looks for the absence of penis and scrotum, and then for signs of labia. In our ultrasound we saw no penis or scrotum, and two lines that are most likely labia. So it is certainly possible that we could get a sweet surprise when this baby comes out and we have a little penis and scrotum, but we're all pretty sure that we'll be getting vagina. To put it all delicately. Our ultrasound also revealed a total and complete baby with arms and legs and hands and feet and heart and liver and kidney and stomach and bones and she moves all over and is very active and awesome!

It's so interesting how divided people are on the do-you-want-to-find-out-the-sex-or-not question. For us it was a no-brainer; hell yeah we wanna know! Why not? Some have asked whether we "want to be surprised", and my response has been a) This is already so freaking surprising and mysterious and crazy. I am certainly not lacking for 'surprises' these days. And b) It's still a surprise. It's just you are surprised earlier than you would be otherwise. And now we can call her by her name and give her a pronoun instead of 'it' and we can buy clothes and when I write her letters with girl-specific advice and information...In general, it feels more real now that I can name her and imagine her and say her. And as I said the other night, "gender's a total myth until you're done with grad school and you get pregnant. Then it's super real." And I'm super into it.

And yes, we do have a name for her. We've had the name for years, in fact. You can ask me, and I might tell you.

And here we are getting ultrasounded!

Dancing With Myself (and Baby and Jason)

2009-02-04T16:16:00.000-08:00

When I found out I was pregnant, one of my first thoughts (I had like 10 million 'first thoughts', mind you) concerned exercise: what can I keep doing? What's safe? What's gonna ruin the baby? Cursory internet perusal reveals that opinions on exercise during pregnancy are---like most opinions on what you should and should not do while knocked up---are pretty damn all over the map. I have been kickboxing regularly for about a year and a half, and when I got preg I was in the best shape I've been in for years. I wanted to keep exercising, but the intense punching, kicking, cardio, and ab work that we do at my kickboxing studio seemed a little scary, especially during the first trimester (I do not do sparring or any kind of combat---I was about to advance to that, but then I got this whole new condition). I took about two months off, and consulted with my doctor, who offered what seems to be the general advice on the topic: if you were doing before, keep doing it, but listen to your body and don't do anything that hurts. Ok then! I resumed kickboxing and have modified my workouts to a slower pace, with no intense ab work or extended jumping (the official jury's out on both ab work and jumping, but I'm going with intuition on this one, as it just feels weird to jump a lot and do major ab stuff). And I feel freaking awesome; strong, energized, healthy, and in great shape, despite my expanding ass and belly. (And I now know why a good, supportive sports bra is necessary; that was kind of lost on me before).

So I'm kickboxing and loving that, and also walking a lot, and once it gets more Spring-y, I'll start swimming (not like it's not totally Spring-y here already, but still...it's an outdoor pool and we're still in Feb.) and will probably do more yoga as I get bigger. Exercising during pregnancy is definitely not for everyone; I can't imagine keeping it up if I was barfy and sick, or exhausted (another reason I avoided it for the first trimester. SO TIRED!), and I imagine that some women are just not into it. But I definitely am.

And so I've added a new element to my workout routine: the Morning Dance Party Freakout, which basically consists of me dancing around my living room to really loud music and occasionally incorporating some stretching and yoga and free weights and geeky vaguely Jazzercise-y movements. A lot of hip shaking and arm flailing. It's super free-ing and dorky and I would be slightly embarrassed if someone encountered me (and someone will, as I do it with my front door open, but when they do I'll just be like "What? I'm pregnant!") but it's very fun and a good way to wake my body up and, I like to imagine, entertain the baby. The key is to be as un-self-conscious as possible, and to have no regard for how totally absurd you look. Today I made Jason do it with me, and we maniacally flailed around to Rihanna, Hall and Oates, MIA, Punjabi MC, The Gossip, Bowie, and Siouxsie. We were out of breath and cracking up. We video-chatted our friend Mark and danced for him and made videos on our Flip. There's one of me dancing that will most likely never see the light of day, but this one gives a good sense of the scene (we decided we should have a workout video series on Youtube. The Pregnant Chick Dance Party Morning Freakout Show!)

Home Visit and Heartbeat

2009-02-04T12:30:00.000-08:00

Last month Jason and I made the decision to plan for a home birth, and we found our amazing midwife pretty quickly. Amrit Khalsa is well-known in the Bay Area midwifery scene (a bigger scene than you may think. Actually, you're probably not surprised that the Bay has a big midwife scene) and she worked with three acquaintances who gave birth last year; they all had very different birth experiences, and not all were smooth sailing by any means, and they all heartily recommended Amrit. Knowing that she was more than capable in these three dramatically different birthing scenarios is really great to know. But more importantly than the recs and all the accolades on the Berkeley Parents Network is the fact that Jason and I adored Amrit immediately upon meeting her. We sealed the deal during our first meeting, and were so excited for our first visit with her.

I have always been interested in midwifery, but until now haven't known exactly how the whole deal works. I'm learning a ton, and one of the most compelling aspects is that the midwife does all of the prenatal visits, and generally does them in your home (some midwives have offices, but most do home visits). Visits last around 2 hours, and are incredibly holistic and comprehensive; basics like blood pressure, baby heartbeat, and uterus size are checked, and the rest of the appointment is about the midwife getting to know you and your partner. Amazing. It's the kind of medical care that I have always longed for---I'm so sick of the 10-minute doctor visit (which is, by the way, what my OB prenatal visits are. 10 minutes of heartbeat, feel the uterus, blood pressure, weight, ask how you're doing, bye). I will soon tell my OB that I am planning a home birth, and we will then cease our doctor-patient relationship, for now, because in California it's illegal for an OB to work with you if you're working concurrently with a midwife and planning a home birth. Why? Malpractice of course! One downside to this is that, if a home birth mama ends up needing or desiring a hospital transfer, she most likely ends up with a doctor she doesn't know, who may or may not be down with the accompanying midwife, and who may or may not be a crappy doctor. As I've made clear and will continue to make clear, I'm not anti-hospital, but I do believe there are less-than awesome doctors out there, just as I believe there are compassionate, sensitive, woman-friendly doctors---and to not know which you'll end up with is not ideal. One major awesome point about Amrit is that she does have a relationship with an OB who is on call for all her births; thus, if I end up transferring to the hospital near my house, I would know the attending doctor.

Anyway. The first visit was wonderful---I made us tea and breakfast, the pets hung around and watched, and I even got to pee on a stick to test my pH levels. In my own bathroom! It's incredible how different a medical experience is in your own home vs. a doctor's office. I like my doctor's office very much, but the entire power doctor-patient power dynamic shifts in an amazing way when you're in your own home, on the couch, drinking tea and talking. Not sitting on that stiff crinkly paper, not under florescent lights, not feeling awkward or weird or worried about keeping your busy doctor too long with all your annoying, irrational questions...

I had emailed Amrit about my not-feeling-the-baby concerns, and she left me a great message in response, saying exactly what I figured she'd say (which is exactly what I wanted to hear). When she arrived she was like "Let's listen to this baby right away so you know it's ok!"

And so here we are, on the couch, listening to our baby's loud kick-ass heartbeat. The last time we heard it was around 12 weeks, and it was way more whoooosh whoooosh whooooosh. Now's it's like ka-thunk ka-thunk ka-thunk HEARTBEAT! You also get a nice taste of Amrit's vibe, which is the perfect balance of warm earth mama and super knowledgeable baby expert...

Amendment Re: World's Finest Baby

2009-01-27T11:07:00.000-08:00

Notice: I erred in my previous statement re: Arlo Lutzenberger being the sole finest baby in the land. Please strike that statement and amend it to include the other finest baby in the land, one Madeleine Brouillard of the glorious and currently chilly state of Washington, beloved and cherubic rosy-cheeked child of my favorite cousin Liza Ragan and my favorite eventual-cousin-in-law Robert Brouillard. Madeleine's current favorite activity, according to her Grandma, one Nancy Murray of Faixfax, CA, winner of the gold medal in Grandmothering (previously held by one Mary E. Murray of Pleasant Hill, CA; soon to be contested by one Barbara Jean Schatz of San Jose, CA) is hiding behind a couch and then jumping up to gleefully surprise people. Miss Madeleine is also an excellent eater and sleeper, and has an adorable habit of resting her clasped hands on her belly in quiet contemplation.

Please allow this amendment to clear uo any misunderstandings regarding the finest baby(ies) in the land.

Note: All bets are off once my baby is born.

On Being Pregnant and Calm

2009-01-26T14:59:00.000-08:00

For many of my dear, dear friends, I am the first to be on the baby-having train (who woulda thunk it, huh?!). Thus, many of them are understandably incredibly curious about how this whole pregnancy thing works. What happens to your body? What does it feel like? One thing that strikes me about being a woman is how little we tend to actually know about this insane and amazing thing that can happen to us. Sure, we know the Hollywood version of pregnancy (puke, eat, get fat, water breaks, rush to hospital, scream, grunt, doctor, birth, yay), but unless we've witnessed the pregnancies and births of friends or family members, we actually know very little about the mysterious phenomenon, no matter how righteous and conscious and aware we are about our bodies and vaginas and cycles and selves. I know that I was amazed and awed to witness the pregnancy of my friend Jenn and the birth of her son Arlo, the world's finest baby; I learned so much from Jenn, from the birth class that we took together, from the doctor visits, from her 4-day-long early labor, and from that incredible day when he finally decided to emerge. Right before my eyes.

I've always been a big fan of knowing a lot about women's health. I'm a go-to person when it comes to advice on UTIs, yeast infections, and all that jazz. I like learning about and understanding the potential miracles and miseries inherent in our systems, and I like informing others about it all too. (I once abandoned my lesson plan when I was teaching Women's Studies upon realizing that my class had little to no knowledge of female anatomy. I had them all draw the female reproductive system; then I drew it on the board and asked them to label parts. It was amazing how little they knew, and how excited (albeit initially shy) they were to learn.) So know that I know some things about pregnancy (at least, the first 19 weeks of it) I will share.

Of course, one of the reasons that we tend to not know much about how it all goes down may be that it's so incredibly different for every woman. It's strange: pregnancy is this totally universal, yet utterly personal and subjective experience. There's an incredibly strong sense of connection to other pregnant women and mothers, but also a kind of protective, "this is my unique experience" thing too. Similarly, there's great relief in learning that the pain or sensation or thing that you're feeling is normal and shared by other women, but many of the pregnancy books annoy me with their didactic accounts of what you are and are not experiencing. All of this is to say that in sharing my experience with pregnancy to date, I recognize that it is completely my own, and no better or worse or more magical or pure or easy or hard than any other woman. It is true that, thus far, my pregnancy has been easy and delightful. I know that this could change at any moment, any day, and I know that all kinds of unforeseen circumstances and occurrences and sensations await. I am incredibly lucky to have many things in place that enable a great pregnancy experience (family, friends, partner, love, time, enough money, dog, cats, home, health, etc) and I am so grateful for these privileges, and for the up-to-this-point ease of my experience. I say all of this because it's important for me to be conscious of the singularity of my situation as I relate it to other women, and to not seem braggy or cocky or naive. (I also don't want to tempt the Evil Eye that Brooke has warned me about. Can I tie a red string around a blog?)

Onward!

Of all the physical and emotional things I've felt thus far in my pregnancy, the most intense and notable thing (aside from really sore boobs) is an incredible and fairly unprecedented sense of calm. I do believe that America has made pregnancy into a fear-based experience and industry (that's another post, entirely), and even that crappy stalwart What To Expect When You're Expecting devotes the vast majority of its pages to cataloging every possible thing that might go wrong and feel bad during your pregnancy. Don't get me wrong---pregnancy is fucking scary, and childbirth is ohmigod scary! But it doesn't have to be as nerve-wracking and terrifying as the books and medical estblishment might like us to believe. So I am especially grateful for this calm. Not that I'm usually an anxious mess (only sometimes), but ever since I found out, I've been very relaxed about these epic life changes, about my body, about my health and the baby's health, about my relationship, about the future, about birth—most everything. (Granted, the positive preg test came right before Obama's victory, so there's definitely been a good vibe hanging over everything, but this is sometime quite deep and wonderful and hard to explain.) I tend to be a worrier about health in general (last year I went through a pretty health-anxious phase during which I was gut-wrenchingly and irrationally convinced that a tiny swollen lymph node on my neck was deadly lymphoma) and am a total moron sucker for looking up symptoms on the internet and then convincing myself that I'm dying. But during this, the most unknown and unfamiliar experience ever, where I am actually growing a tiny person that I cannot see, I have just felt weirdly not-worried.

Part of our cultural anxiety around pregnancy has to do with the whole process of trying to avoid getting knocked up when you don't want to/aren't ready/can't do it. I definitely didn't know I was 'ready' until I was actually pregnant. Like most women, I've had my share of pregnancy scares and late periods; even after Jason and I were well established and committed and agreed upon the future having of children, I still breathed a massive sigh of relief when my period came. He often made it clear that he was ready to have a baby yesterday; I often hedged and demurred and said "Yes, in the future, but not quite now." But in the weeks following our wedding, when I started to suspect that I was pregnant---unusually sore boobs a few weeks before my period was due, a general weird bloating feeling, one brief instance of spotting ('implantation bleeding' said the internet), and then the tell-tale absent period---I felt totally calm. I even stopped hoping to find my period everytime I went pee, and started feeling relieved when there was no blood. When the two blue lines did appear on the preg test stick, yes, my heart totally pounded and I was stunned and shocked and Jason and I stared at each other in disbelief---and when that initial moment of stunning realization was past, I just felt incredibly calm and happy.

Not that there haven't been---and aren't still---moments of major or minor worry and concern. It's just that this thing happens where, at the point during the worrying where I would previously spin off into anxious worry freak-out-obsession, I now somehow just come back to a rational place, and feel ok. I think I have a strong sense of how little control I have over this process: I eat well, think positive, get enough rest, exercise, and avoid dangerous activities, foods, and drugs. Apart from that, there's really not much I can do to ensure that this all turns out ok; that is at once scary and very comforting. A close friend suffered a miscarriage right before I found out I was pregnant, and that possibility was definitely with me for the first trimester; I sometimes felt freaked out about it, but again, I knew there was nothing I could do. Currently, I'm waiting to feel this thing move. I'm 19 weeks pregnant today, and most women tend to feel it between 16 and 22 weeks. So I'm fine, right in the normal range, and many women apparently don't know that they're feeling it for some time anyway, because the movements are very faint at first. So this concern is with me a little, but I don't feel that worried. I'm looking forward to Wednesday, when we meet with our midwife for the first prenatal visit. We get to listen for he heartbeat, which is my favorite thing.

In writing this, I'm realizing that I have a helluva lot to say about all this. Probably best to break it up into sections, no? Maybe the next post will be about how, aside from this calmness, which is quite mild and not at all an actual sensation, I don't feel much. I don't feel pregnant, really. I mean, my belly feels bigger, but it's still so abstract...Next week is our ultrasound, and we'll hopefully find out what it is and see how freaking big it is. That, combined with this impending feeling-it-move business, will perhaps move this from the realm of the abstract to the realm of The Real.

Calmly,

Kate

It Is Ok For Me To Do Nothing But Read, Eat, Write, and Nap Today

2009-01-23T13:18:00.000-08:00

The post title is an affirmation of sorts. I'm tired. I've been traveling. I can't spell traveling. We went to the inauguration. It was amazing. I don't feel like writing about it right now, nor do I feel like doing any of the other many things I could/should do. What I want to do is lay down and get in touch with my baby. Say hi, sing it a song. See if I can feel it move. I haven't felt it move yet, and though I'm in the normal range for not-having-felt-baby-move-yet, I'm still starting to have anxiety dreams about it. My big thing to do today was to meet with Amrit, the midwife, but she rescheduled because she's spent her past 50 hours at a birth. A 50-hour birth. Times like this I manage to realize I will soon be doing this too.

So I am going to make a kale salad, set up some snacks, grab a book (and, yes, the remote) and get on the couch. Guilt-free. I am growing a person. So there.

Now Featuring Stuff About Pregnancy and Baby-Having!

2009-01-06T14:56:00.000-08:00

Over the past 4 months I have turned 30, gotten married, gotten pregnant, and watched Barack Obama get elected. I also finished teaching for an unspecified amount of time, went to Hawaii for a belated honeymoon, spent epic quality time with my dear friend Rachel, set intentions for 2009, and decided to seriously investigate having a home birth. Holy f**king sh*t (see, look, already becoming a mom! Less swearing in '09!), batman! Life is changing in awesome and miraculous ways and I do want to document it. I am learning so much about pregnancy and birth everyday and am kind of roiling with thoughts about it all---being pregnant, getting pregnant (well, that part was pretty freakin simple), what to do, what not to do, what to ignore (most books), what to pay attention to (your instincts!). I am by no remote means an expert on any of us, and I don't believe that anyone really is. It's such a personal, yet public experience, completely individual yet totally universal.

Rather than start a pregnancy blog with a dorky name, I figured I'd just carry on here...cuz Experimental Soup Making is just a metaphor anyway. For the experiments I/we carry out daily, the recipe-less living, the trusting your sense of how much salt goes in, how much onion, lots of garlic, yum. The best soups I've ever made have been almost entirely made-up; maybe inspired by a recipe, but primarily made from the gut (and the nose and the palate) and from experience, trial and error. Which is not to say that I'm bumbling my way through pregnancy, and there's not too much room for error here. But it all just feels like an incredible experiment that I get to participate in everyday: the experiment of love and partnership, of creating a new being, of thinking about how to be a parent (helllooo, trial and error!), of observing and enjoying my everyday-a-little-new-body.

Anyway. I am, as usual, rife with opinions and thoughts. Stay tuned.

This is Actually About Soup

2008-11-11T20:45:00.000-08:00

As winter settles in, my soupmaking is ratcheting up. Jason's convinced me to start documenting my 'recipes', though recipe is a misnomer; it's mo re of a list of things that I combine in order to make some kind of awesome soup. But for posterity, and for the sake of having some record of what went in that one really good soup we ate that one night, I'm gonna start actually writing about my experimental soups.

Yummy Curry Lentil Squash Soup

I'm going high-protein these days, and I freaking love squash, and I had some pre-cooked Trader Joe's lentils and I wanted low-key, low-prep soup. Thus:

Ingredients: Squash; coconut oil (or olive oil or butter. But I prefer coconut oil for this); lentils; canned tomatoes; veggie broth; spinach or some kind of green; chickpeas; yellow onion; shallot; ginger; garlic; curry (cardamom pods, coriander, fennel seeds, tumeric, cinnamon, cumin, black pepper); salt

Roast a squash (in case, Acorn. Cut squash in half, put cut-side up in baking dish, drizzle olive oil on squash, bake at 425-450 until squash is soft)
While squash is roasting, saute diced onion, a shallot (or more if you have more than one), lots of ginger, and garlic in Coconut oil on low-medium heat.
When squash is done, scoop out and add to onion mix. Stir stir stir, and mush the squash a bit with the stirring spoon.
Add small amount of veggie broth and let it all simmer for a while; add more broth as needed. I make my own broth; this particular one had lots of apples in it so it was a bit sweet.
Add some lentils to the simmering situation.
Meanwhile, make this awesome version of Heidi Swanson's Sri Lankan Curry from her cookbook Super Natural Cooking. I was out of cloves, so this was a clove-less version. Still super yummy though. I toasts cardamom pods, coriander seeds, half a cinnamon stick, fennel seeds, cumin, and a dried red pepper in a skillet. Then I put it in my mortar/pestle thing and ground it all up with a good amount of tumeric. Grind grind grind.
Add 1 can of diced tomatoes (unless you have fresh ones, but this being winter in Cali, there are very few good fresh tomatoes). I used Muir Glen, which seem to be the ones that Bay Area hippie fancy food people prefer. Also the ones that Jason happened to buy from Long's.
Stir. Add ground up curry goodness, and more broth, depending on your desired soup consistency. This one is good as a pretty thick stew-y deal.
Add some chickpeas for extra protein and awesomeness
Throw in some spinach leaves at the end and stir until they're wilted.
Voila!
This would be good with salad, but we didn't have any salad greens, so we had some hummus that I made, and some Sunflower Cheddar Dr. Kracker crackers.
Then watch 3 episodes of Entourage On Demand. Enjoy!

Time Capsule

2008-09-03T11:47:00.000-07:00

For the Time Capsule of Pre-Married Life

Dear Diary,

In early September 2008 I am...

Sleeping in only slightly later than Jason
Wearing silky grown ass woman things to bed
Reading The Brief and Wondrous Life of Oscar Wao
Keeping the front door open all day
Killing the resulting flies with an electrocuting tennis racket
Talking to Aubs in NYC during her glamorous interlude from bus/farm life
Obsessively reading the political blogs: Sarah Palin (WTF?!?!), McCain (seriously, WTF?!?!?!), RNC, DNC, blah blahblahblah
Refining and listening to our wedding mix CDs
G/I chatting my ass off with Kirstie, Jason, Aubs, Chiara, K Neary, K Seal, etc etc
Thinking about making appointments
Thinking about buying shit online
Learning too much about LED lights and lantern lighting options
Leaving messages for the caterer
"Cleaning" my office
Lightly working on my syllabi
Walking Buzz and feeding him treats
Petting Stevie and feeding him treats
Preparing to write a ceremony prose piece
Preparing to write my vows
Feeling emotions
Feeling in love
Cying
Smiling
Seriously, smiling
Feeling pangs of baby-want in my lower woman regions
Seriously, reading the word pregnant produces a heretofore unfamiliar tingly sensation within
Loving Junot Diaz, wanting to be Junot Diaz, wanting to write like Junot Diaz
Imagining the wedding.
I mean, that's like a constant
Checking my email
Reading SFGate
Worrying about crime statistics
Writing Thank You cards
Procrastinating Bill Paying + Other Financial Matters
Googling the word "wife"
Admiring September
I love this month
The weather, the sky, the energy
It's a great month for all of this...