Wednesday, October 28, 2009

I went shopping and all I got was this blog post

This weekend was taken up with quite a few baby-type errands. Well, namely one: starting a proper registry. Saturday mid-morning (after a deliciously homemade buttermilk waffle breakfast) we headed out to posh Calabasas to Babies “R” Us. Why did we trek all the way up there you ask? Well, mainly because we avoid doing any shopping in Van Nuys, trust me on this.

Registering, registering is something else, isn’t it? We nearly had the store to ourselves (a perk of leaving overpopulated Van Nuys) and arriving before noon on a Saturday. After a brief 15 minute introduction from the store manager (where I learned that we would need three OR four fitted crib sheet, and not the ONE I had thought we only needed!) we were free to wander the store and scan things we wanted with our special laser gun. I would like to politely demand that, henceforth, all my shopping experiences are like this one, complete with the part where you don’t actually have to pay for anything at the end.

We took to the laser-scanning thing fairly well, and truth-be-told, we had practice 5 years ago when we registered for our wedding (which by the way, was much easier!). We assumed the fairly predictable roles you’d expect us to assume: J wielding the scanner gun and me seizing upon various necessary-but-not-really­-necessary baby paraphernalia. I spent far too much time agonizing over a bouncer: should we go with the Fisher-Price Rainforest or the Fisher-Price Precious Planet?

(Side note: Really I was trying to decide if I wanted my baby to be planet conscious or save-the-rainforest conscious. These are very important decisions that as parents we must make. Nearly as important as what pre-school to attend for optimal college admittance).

I also kept picking up items and going “what’s this for?” “or “does a baby really need this?” Honestly, it was like a scene right out of Nine Months (Have you ever seen that? I was just introduced to that hilarious comedy. Of course, I might be the last person to have ever not seen it, but still.)


In other news, I had my first chiropractor experience last Friday, and Internet, that is some crazy stuff. I went after several friends recommended I see on because of frequent headaches I’ve been having as a result of this pregnancy. The doctor is very new-agey and hippy and teeny-tiny small (I meant the office, not the doctor, per se).

After filling out some paperwork regarding my insurance provider and health issues they bring you back to lie on an automatic massage table. It felt like the real deal; well, except for the horrific, ear-piercing screech it belted out every 20 seconds. Hard to do some relaxing when you involuntarily tense up. After an agonizingly long five minutes, I was brought back into “the room” in which I was observing various patients filter in and out of. They all seemed to be in there for only a few mere moments, and suddenly became very wary of what I was getting myself into. And, after I was quickly positioned correctly on the table she poked and prodded and twisted and turned me - she deemed me “aligned” and told me to make an appointment the next week.

Internet, I could breathe better on my short walk to my car. In fact, I felt nearly light-headed with the amount of oxygen I was inhaling. I’m not sure if that is a normal reaction, or if I was experiencing so much trouble breathing before my adjustment. I felt looser, and lighter and exhausted. I fell asleep at 8:30pm. I guess I’m just preparing for motherhood.

Tuesday, October 13, 2009

A birthday post: A look at the past


So, my beloved’s birthday was this past weekend and I was going to write a sappy post about how he means to me, how much I love him, blah, and blah, blah. But, I thought my fans (yes, I do believe I have fans):

a) Already know this about me

b) Think it would be boring.

c) Would be nauseous.

And honestly, I tell J nearly every day how much I love him and how much I love being married to him, how wonderful he is because its true and my hormones are totally out of wrack these days. So, I thought a sentimental post would be overkill. In addition to it being J’s birthday, this October marks eight years dating. So, I thought I’d commemorate this year’s October festivities with a series of moderately embarrassing photographs instead, in which I reveal that not only did I need to desperately wax my eyebrows, but that J badly needs some new shirts. The above picture, taken this past weekend, is to demonstrate how much better we are at the self-portrait. And, also to mark how much we’ve changed. Note my hair is much darker, and less straight while J has much less hair on top, but more on his face…and let’s be honest, we both have much cuter glasses.  (Although, I’m not wearing any in the below pictures). 


This photo is one of the earliest I could find in our courtship without having to scan anything (because frankly, I’m being a bit lazy, and well, we didn’t take too many pictures together the first eight months or so of dating). This was taken in Chico, fall 2002; I believe we were at the Sierra Nevada Brewing Company. We thought we’d spend a wacky afternoon taste testing beer, initially we were going to walk the town, cruise through Bidwell Mansion and play in the park, but it P.O.U.R.E.D. the entire, we tasted beer instead, and coffee later to sober us up.


The following summer (August 2003 to be exact), we took a spontaneous road trip up to the Redwood Forest, because we thought the perfect way to spend a weekend was to drive. In fact, we left Sacramento, drove up the coast, hiked a bit through the Redwoods and on Sunday decided that instead of driving back down the 101 (been there, done that), we’d drive north to Oregon to Grant’s Pass and then down I-5. All in all, it was about a million hours of driving (to be exact), and to this day we still can’t believe we did that. Yes, you can blame us for single-handedly contributing to global warming. Also, do you see the hat? (Which is the exact same from the picture above), he used to wear that hat all the time. He was so proud of his beloved Giants. And, truth be told...the hat doesn’t fit his head anymore. It got bigger; I think it’s from his MBA.


This was taken in February 2004 (although, it certainly doesn’t look like February with my shorts and t-shirt attire). We were out for a hike in Point Reyes. I remember taking this photo, and wondering if this would be one of our last photos together as I was moving down to LA, and J had just informed me that he doesn’t “do” long-distance relationships. I remember being very sad, and stressed out on this particular day, and the hike was J’s way of making me feel better. Of course, J was still wearing that backwards Giant’s World Series baseball cap and look; he’s wearing the same shirt first in the Chico picture too! We really need to get him some new clothes (especially since he just wore that shirt again this weekend!)

03.19.04 (2)

And finally, this was the night that J had proposed, March 2004, just a few short months after that hike. You can see the ring on my finger is you look close (but luckily, you can’t see the masking tape holding it in place). Thankfully, J decided to leave the Giant’s cap at home for our fancy dinner. This is one of our only pictures from that evening (even that entire day), and I’m a bit sad because I feel that we’re both super shiny (I’m blaming the lighting!) so it’s not the best picture.

Eight years ago J sat behind me in our marketing class telling me about his upcoming trip to NYC, asking if I wanted to meet at Starbucks to “study” with him for the first exam. We’ve come an awfully long way since that awkward study date (where I was the only one to bring our class textbook and notes!). And while eight years isn’t a huge milestone and 32 isn’t a “golden” birthday, the significance of this month hasn’t escaped me. Eight years of loving someone, and seven birthday celebrations is just the beginning of our long time together. And despite the rough roads behind us, the sleepless nights ahead, the cover stealing and the WHEN YOU SET THE TABLE WE NEED PLACEMATS, NAPKINS AND SILVERWARE, HOW MANY TIMES DO I HAVE TO TELL YOU?, this much is absolutely and unequivocally true: every single minute of it, I’ve loved him more. To steal the words from the Beach Boys, “God only knows what I’d be without you.” Happy Birthday, my love.

Thursday, October 01, 2009

The horrible, no-good, very bad day

Yesterday, hump day, was sort of a bad day. Not the end-all-be-all bad day, where you get laid off or hear devastating life-changing news, but more like a series of small irritations, that, cumulatively, had me wanting to cry and yell in both the same breath and then me quickly wanting to race home, put my pajamas on and pretend the day never existed. You know the day: horrific traffic, bad hair, and high-maintenance school partners. When it got to the point when I finally realized that nothing was going right for me all day, I threw up my hands in frustration. I GET IT, UNIVERSE, TODAY SUCKS. Then, I decided to pray. Pray for peace (my peace, not world peace or anything selfless like that); pray for patience, pray for a better attitude. I dove into my Bible; I would not let the enemy beat me down. I knew that God would hear my prayer and right my day. Then he very quickly responded by:

· Dropping my lunch on the kitchen floor (when I was starving!) and shattering a dish (of course).

· Making sure I hit “discard” on a very important email rather than “send” when I was done with it.

· Spilling my vanilla decaf latte all over my skirt (which I had ironically purchased to improve said sucky day).

So, to sum it up, basically, I suffered pretty much every cliché you can think of on Hump day. In fact, I’m surprised I didn’t get a speeding ticket (Wait, traffic was so bad that I never got near the speed limit).

On the upside, however, I did pull out my fall decorations (I love this time of year...if only we had foliage instead of Santa Ana winds) while listening to some of this, this, this and this (yes, my music tastes are wide and varied) and drinking a homemade caramel apple cider. Plus, I got to see my tiny baby via an ultrasound and hear how perfect it was developing. Silver linings and all, I guess.