tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-249439412024-03-23T11:14:48.457-07:00Sum of two drunksvoluble: 1. characterized by a ready flow of words in speaking; garrulous; fluent; loquacious 2. rare 3. twining or twisting, as a plant.nicolehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04622280026772505067noreply@blogger.comBlogger58125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24943941.post-88161215756634253102013-01-11T17:44:00.001-08:002013-01-11T17:44:58.998-08:00Two days ago I was a miserable unproductive wretch and completely hated life. Yesterday, went to Starbucks, was productive, all in all a good day.<br /><br />Today I opted to just work at home. Bad idea. I was a miserable unproductive (well, semi-productive) wretch for the majority of the day. I'm pretty sure that being at the end of my pregnancy, not being able to pursue new projets at work and hormones are making me sort of bi-polar. I mean literally - good day, then bad day, then good day, then bad day.<br />
<br />
I decided to wrap up work 30 minutes early, pick up the kiddo, and get out of the house. Washing my face, brushing my teeth and putting on some blush seemed to do wonders for my mood. Probably also for my breath. Sam was tired but well behaved. We got some yummy groceries because I've been really incredibly inspired by this blog I stumbled across <a href="http://ohdeardrea.blogspot.com/">Ohdeardrea</a>. She is inspiring and awesome and goegeous for many reasons, but at the moment she is most inspiring to cut out the sugar (succes today!) and eat healthier. She's vegan - I don't think I can go that far, but she has me considering vegetarian. Like really considering it.<br />
<br />
Anyway, Sam and I picked up lots of goodies to make yummy, veggie treats. We also got goodies at Sbux because heaven forbid I not consume their products for even a single day. We got home both in a better mood, feeling at least human and had a delicious dinner. I went for an Ohdeardrea inspired Things on Toast dinner for myself - hummus, avocado and sea salt = de-freaking-licious.<br />
<br />
Sam ended his Friday evening with one of his favorite past times - warm bubbley water in the kitchen sink. Glad Santa brought him so many toys. ;)<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbn-T9efV3FCTI0OLVJJX45fihVpdu30CU5UKG_n-gc9S9pNUEoYTr4wGkzX3eS93OvN7HlGasRjPqQJTWhEH-ePM5Ir_aWOGYpXO0wz83-r2SRZDEzWi6xdoVldjps-jPxSVuRg/s1600/Sam_2013+01+11.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="317" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbn-T9efV3FCTI0OLVJJX45fihVpdu30CU5UKG_n-gc9S9pNUEoYTr4wGkzX3eS93OvN7HlGasRjPqQJTWhEH-ePM5Ir_aWOGYpXO0wz83-r2SRZDEzWi6xdoVldjps-jPxSVuRg/s400/Sam_2013+01+11.jpeg" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
Hoping for a more balanced day tomorrow.nicolehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04622280026772505067noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24943941.post-51616367087067355782013-01-11T17:35:00.001-08:002013-01-11T17:35:24.778-08:00Wrapping Up<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
Next week is my last week of work before starting my maternity leave. This is pretty crazy to me because I planned to work right up until I went into labor and instead I'll be off a full week before my due date. Weeee!<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
I've been working from home for the most part and only going into the office one day per week. In order to keep myself from going stir-crazy and unproductive I've been dropping Sam off at school and then heading to the local Starbucks to work for the morning. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjX_hjiJZpLjRJ0zxQSC63IY0POqZTT6A-qtQ1tbpFSZpLqI00xem_k3zluqdl5enx5i3LrM-Zy1TgJcNE6BPrLvQvC6wMpxWTELLsn7W9GPuI0craCTZQ31sYpshJSqHjUZBf0LA/s1600/Sbux_2013+01+10.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="298" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjX_hjiJZpLjRJ0zxQSC63IY0POqZTT6A-qtQ1tbpFSZpLqI00xem_k3zluqdl5enx5i3LrM-Zy1TgJcNE6BPrLvQvC6wMpxWTELLsn7W9GPuI0craCTZQ31sYpshJSqHjUZBf0LA/s400/Sbux_2013+01+10.jpeg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Productivity things.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div>
I usually work from 8ish till lunch time. The benefits are that I feel a sense of peer pressure to actually focus on work and not scan the latest Apartment Therapy articles because my Sbux neighbor will see that I'm not working and silently shake their head at my sloth like behavior. So I read proposals. I write emails. I eat some junk food and/or the healthier food I'm hiding in my giant bag. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Yesterday, my favorite Starbucks friend and the cutest dog I've ever seen was there as well. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9yh0xcfWuK2LAiyndNWX5d-L40OcVgY9Xzqg3vJEKYA4zBzmhaCPUJxAODokG1tshLNUFOKc0TaUomjbr3Y9uDrvPTUvA6gzLsCWqFZF3m4aEVroPAjBhzeCSlcrwtJPAX5zGnw/s1600/Nick_2013+01+10.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9yh0xcfWuK2LAiyndNWX5d-L40OcVgY9Xzqg3vJEKYA4zBzmhaCPUJxAODokG1tshLNUFOKc0TaUomjbr3Y9uDrvPTUvA6gzLsCWqFZF3m4aEVroPAjBhzeCSlcrwtJPAX5zGnw/s400/Nick_2013+01+10.jpeg" width="323" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">He also happens to have the best name ever, Nick.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />Most important part of my work day was taking a baby bump picture in the bathroom. If I ever spent time with other adults I could actually have photos of myself OUTSIDE of the Starbucks bathroom. But I am a loser face and husband gets home so late that I'm usually in my giant fluffy robe by the time he can take a photo of me. That's if I'm even awake by the time he comes in. So, bathroom photos it shall be.<div>
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiat1dV04JBr5qEqvJSGBflR2ELkW_qVN2nLNF3I4G2XYaFn2CVlA0zWMQttFaHCgxwWFaYDuUY37JvOgLjidPCdv3XHixBhx3Wch3wWKuL4CjM5VjfR8y4uNFCMzmkwCnMeLkTiw/s1600/Bump_2013+01+10.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiat1dV04JBr5qEqvJSGBflR2ELkW_qVN2nLNF3I4G2XYaFn2CVlA0zWMQttFaHCgxwWFaYDuUY37JvOgLjidPCdv3XHixBhx3Wch3wWKuL4CjM5VjfR8y4uNFCMzmkwCnMeLkTiw/s400/Bump_2013+01+10.jpeg" width="255" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">15 days till dooms day...I mean due date.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />And finally, when I got home I found Sam's Lego carwash in the bathroom. These Legos, he loves them, and Tripp loves them, and they're taking over my house. And I hate them. The end.<br /><div>
<br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUn1LEXV7nnRXRkNqwmkpeZBp_KZr5dw5rvu6MEiUiu_cZhsawuIfe2qGVV_SNuajL0A3FyfX1jIZQjMM9uqhQB-7Jw5fRyiJwgkBkOCbfK85e4A5xDc618x6JsmwxBSKgMxFcJg/s1600/Lego+car+wash_2013+01+10.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="296" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUn1LEXV7nnRXRkNqwmkpeZBp_KZr5dw5rvu6MEiUiu_cZhsawuIfe2qGVV_SNuajL0A3FyfX1jIZQjMM9uqhQB-7Jw5fRyiJwgkBkOCbfK85e4A5xDc618x6JsmwxBSKgMxFcJg/s400/Lego+car+wash_2013+01+10.jpeg" width="400" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
One more week of work left. I have to force myself to give a crap and wrap everything up. Seriously.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
</div>
nicolehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04622280026772505067noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24943941.post-53954504689881690922013-01-09T17:59:00.002-08:002013-01-09T18:00:13.132-08:00Progress but not really.Okay so I've been able to make some progress on not eating total crap. Mainly I've incorporated more healthy meals, including sweet potato and black bean burritos. Yummy! Lots of vitamin A and protein. <i style="font-weight: bold;">But </i>I haven't been able to curb the sugar.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjl_3p0p-N52ZydG52dXhNw7NACyFPbWNKuSNrXF0we0d_qWcYmeLJvIe6eBgclBM6vJ3QUI2myE0lsrpSBRp4Lozny0Q5T-CXKYkYBKLYvZzwglEGLg4Ynt_DWBG0__BqvsXnqkQ/s1600/Burritos_2013+01+09.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="243" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjl_3p0p-N52ZydG52dXhNw7NACyFPbWNKuSNrXF0we0d_qWcYmeLJvIe6eBgclBM6vJ3QUI2myE0lsrpSBRp4Lozny0Q5T-CXKYkYBKLYvZzwglEGLg4Ynt_DWBG0__BqvsXnqkQ/s320/Burritos_2013+01+09.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
That is not an accurate statement. I am weak and have not practiced self control. And now I hate myself a little bit. I'm trying to go cold turkey as of tonight since curbing sweets doesn't seem to be within my abilities right now. So just seltzer the rest of the evening. Sigh.<br />
<br />
And tomorrow I'll try to make it a whole 24 hours. I know that going cold turkey after about the third day the sugar cravings tend to go away so let's see how these 72 hours go.<br />
<br />
Lastly, here's my stomach. I'm pretty sure I still have a vagina but I haven't seen it in ages...so can't be sure.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi95jylniEyB-uePuspA7qnoDClVy7QFLy8VPmj1pAWoe96bCubcR7_c53ul7qwEFrLsI9vkj2IHguDTK3mC1ycRJaksIvb8_kLpXTxdKV4LIuzUUlGJCC9C70v-GogntGr2-Kh_A/s1600/Stomach_2013+01+09.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi95jylniEyB-uePuspA7qnoDClVy7QFLy8VPmj1pAWoe96bCubcR7_c53ul7qwEFrLsI9vkj2IHguDTK3mC1ycRJaksIvb8_kLpXTxdKV4LIuzUUlGJCC9C70v-GogntGr2-Kh_A/s320/Stomach_2013+01+09.jpeg" width="253" /></a></div>
<br />nicolehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04622280026772505067noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24943941.post-50928371301010810742013-01-04T19:57:00.002-08:002013-01-04T19:57:16.882-08:00Thanks for listening universe. Seriously.So blogosphere. Just reread my old post and it made me LOL. Especially the part about loving being pregnant. Lots and lots has happened since April of 2011. First and foremost we did indeed meet all the goals I had set out in order to have baby #2. And baby #2 is on her way! In fact if I look down I can practically see a tiny arm hanging down waving at me. And let me just say that I do NOT love being pregnant this time around. Not sure if I was smoking the reefer the entire first pregnancy or if this child had just given me the hardest time while Sam took it easy on me - but NO to pregnancy. This is the last time a human will be growing in this human. Done. Thank you very much.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaTmYZYBz0S-kl1WRyoQiMGg04mUKxuq5LoifA_XDX4ZkMGaq5UO2mR_yoy-lZV6d1xVbiWNhh8kOilxWPliDvSj0yzLIgh5HlMQKIgX9Nvij3qGgU0DxoKVkMxVvmhcjgfUdbGg/s1600/BBump_01+04+13.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaTmYZYBz0S-kl1WRyoQiMGg04mUKxuq5LoifA_XDX4ZkMGaq5UO2mR_yoy-lZV6d1xVbiWNhh8kOilxWPliDvSj0yzLIgh5HlMQKIgX9Nvij3qGgU0DxoKVkMxVvmhcjgfUdbGg/s320/BBump_01+04+13.jpeg" width="299" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Minus waving baby arm.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
One perk of impending birth is that I finally have the time to start writing again - getting ready for maternity leave! Baby girl is due on January 25th, just three weeks (and one day before Sam's birthday). Work is winding down and Tripp is done with school so I have time to cook and work on insane little craft projects again, hooray!<br />
<br />
The real point of re-starting the posts today is accountability. See I've been...uh...eating for two. I mean I took that concept and I just ran with it. Ran right to Cellulite City. And you know what, I just don't want to stay in CC any more. So I've got some plans in place - plans for the gym after baby girl arrives. I plan to make regular use of their babysitting facilities while dragging my jiggly rear up the stair master and making nice nice with the elliptical.<br />
<br />
Just as an FYI - with Sam I gained a total of 33lbs. So far this time around I've gained 26 with 3 weeks to go. I'll be happy if I don't go over 33 and if I stay under I'll be <i>way</i> happy. As will all my poor pants.<br />
<br />
Before I can get into the gym though I can stop with the eating and eating and then more eating. Particularly sweets. I don't have a sweet tooth, I've got like 17 of them. I've started by putting together some delicious breakfasts parfaits that are in the fridge waiting for me.<br />
<br />
They are made up of vanilla yogurt, bananas, blueberries, strawberries and walnuts. Nom nom nom!<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSitBamFKyLX5Cs7lzaEOimNYgSswsanrJbxE1Tu-GMhhNU8GTQd0m9lO79pegybb4lbkHN_KFYtQHfZfyB9FPkdhFskrolAry5tQvUsjz4TSOs7M5EnHJyUFhpD2bnrhmnAt3xw/s1600/Parfait_01+04+13.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="288" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSitBamFKyLX5Cs7lzaEOimNYgSswsanrJbxE1Tu-GMhhNU8GTQd0m9lO79pegybb4lbkHN_KFYtQHfZfyB9FPkdhFskrolAry5tQvUsjz4TSOs7M5EnHJyUFhpD2bnrhmnAt3xw/s320/Parfait_01+04+13.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
We've got guests coming for lunch tomorrow - Virginia and Austin! So I won't be particularly good about my eating since I'll be serving them <a href="http://fabulesslyfrugal.com/2011/12/the-next-best-thing-to-robert-redford.html">Better than Robert Redford</a> for dessert. Otherwise though, I'm curbing the insane pregnant lady three desserts per day. Though three desserts per day is really wonderful, especially when you're sleep deprived and cranky and nine months pregnant. Sigh.<br />
<br />
I'll be checking in with progress, obviously not planning to lose pounds till after the little one arrives but checking in on how my diet is improving (or not, but it will). Also nursing burns about 500 calories per day - I will be nursing the shit out of this child. I'm going to feed her 19 times per day. That's fine right?<br />
<br />
And one last thing: I vow, from this day forward not to pin any more baked deliciousness recipes on <a href="http://pinterest.com/dweebgirl/">Pinterest.</a> Unless I create a board titled Cellulite to which I pin these recipes as a reminder of what not to do? OK, no. No more pinning!!!<br />
<br />
And just because, here's my little man and the big man.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9Rkf_2nYGyGoV8VDeUwzIOSk51VbeifiX6cu6IE2eus8rxWqKZY-6Zx9RrTUnv63XhVyFTLP-8JYgNH7dKF7QOwndeNv3gk9LjgfUBLlVocUYe_HNAyMKXJxrb52BAkcK2u8MMQ/s1600/Mens_01+04+13.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9Rkf_2nYGyGoV8VDeUwzIOSk51VbeifiX6cu6IE2eus8rxWqKZY-6Zx9RrTUnv63XhVyFTLP-8JYgNH7dKF7QOwndeNv3gk9LjgfUBLlVocUYe_HNAyMKXJxrb52BAkcK2u8MMQ/s320/Mens_01+04+13.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
<br />nicolehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04622280026772505067noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24943941.post-46562093041851253792011-04-17T17:26:00.001-07:002011-04-17T17:39:13.399-07:00Open letter to the universeDear Universe,<div><br /></div><div>I am suffering from baby-fever, a common ailment, caused by a combination of hormonal imbalance, oxytocin, and insanity. I am completely capable of having a baby, however, there are a number of things that need to happen before I can comfortably allow more procreating. </div><div><br /></div><div>1. Must get my next position, with a raise of 15-20%</div><div>2. Must find our apartment, which will be our permanent home base. I will not being moving from it again (unless we decide to buy, but I'm terrified of home ownership and hope not to buy, but this is another thing that I am perpetually flip flopping on, it's a whole 'nother blog post.) This apartment must meet several requirements;</div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>a. No carpet, must have hardwood floors for the sake of all our allergies and the grossness factor.</div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>b. Open floor plan, so we can actually have people over, hooray!</div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>c. Dishwasher, no explanation required</div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>d. Washer and dryer in the building</div><div>3. Tripp must graduate, should happen in December</div><div>4. Tripp must find a job in his new field, web development.</div><div><br /></div><div>So, essentially all of the planets must align, before baby making can commence. I loved, LOVED, being pregnant. And since we are only going to have two children (which is two, too many for some, I realize), this is the last pregnancy I will have. So I want to relish every second of it. And don't want to agonize over finances or moving, or anything major we can deal with ahead of time.</div><div><br /></div><div>When Sam is sleeping or being particularly adorable the baby fever flares up. When he is being an exhausted, non-napping terror, my ovaries shrivel up instead. My husband likes to say that I change my mind every week, but really, once Tripp is done with school and homework I will immediately require another baby. IMMEDIATELY. </div><div><br /></div><div>It would be really nice if hormones could just be turned off when they aren't necessary. </div><div><br /></div><div>So Universe, what I am asking is - please help me get that next gig, so I have only 3 more obstacles. Thank you. </div>nicolehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04622280026772505067noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24943941.post-80014537150211940132010-01-19T17:36:00.000-08:002010-01-19T17:52:00.541-08:00Dear universe...I've considered on many occasions updating this blog. In fact I've thought out entire entries but have always felt overwhelmed by how much time has passed and the fact that I can't possibly remember everything that has happened that I need to update on this blog. So I'm not going to bother. I'll just start with where I am now:<div><br />-Just got a quasi-promotion which is great and yet, insanely stressful.</div><div><br />-My boss is in town for the past week and a half, also great and even more stressful.</div><div><br />-Sam is turning 2 next week and we are planning his birthday party. Unfortunately, it falls on the day of some sort of "important" Jets game, and now his party has somehow become Jets themed. Oh. Joy. Just what I've always hoped for.</div><div><br />-My in-laws were in town over the three day weekend. Fun, yet stressful.</div><div><br />-Tripp, the husband, is still working his full-time gig, and also going to school full-time. He is currently enrolled in his most challenging class to date. Not fun. Very, very stressful.</div><div><br />-Tripp is also working late all week.</div><div><br />-I have taken up running, and sick as it may seem, I actually enjoy it. When Tripp is home at a decent hour I run the Woody Allen inner-monologue out of my skull.</div><div><br /></div><div>The tiny bits of fun are being worn very, very thin by all the stressful bits. </div><div><br /></div><div>The good news: we're all healthy, we both have jobs, Sam is the awesomest, and for the most part, all of our friends and family are healthy and employed as well. </div><div><br /></div><div>I miss cooking a lot lately. I also miss traveling. Tripp and I could really use a vacation of some sort, even if it's just for three days. I have to talk my miserly, overly-anxious self into parting with some of our money in order to fund a little time off. Hopefully, I will be able to figure out when Tripp next has off from school and whisk him away somewhere exotic - like Florida. It's a recession so we have to dream big in mini. </div><div><br /></div><div>Unfortunately, no pictures to upload today - all of the recent ones are on the hubby's fancy pants new school laptop. I will return with those ASAP. If only for my own viewing pleasure.</div>nicolehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04622280026772505067noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24943941.post-6771363146550746892008-07-13T05:09:00.000-07:002008-07-13T06:08:50.737-07:00The Pancake ManMy husband is the pancake man. When we wake up on the weekends one of the first things he will say is, "What do you want for breakfast? You want coffee? You want pancakes? Grits?" and then he will proceed to make me coffee and the breakfast of my choice. Today it is blueberry pancakes. While my husband skillfully cooks pancakes to perfection he also manages to clean off the kitchen table and counter tops.<br /><br />Sam is playing on his blanket, trying to scooch to the toys I've placed at strategic distances from his starting point. Each one he finds he c hews on a bit to make sure it's to his standards. Occasionally he lets out a high pitched squeal to inform us that he is pleased with the toys as well as his reflection in the mirror. These are our weekend mornings now.<br /><br />When we are done eating our blueberry pancakes and lazily sipping coffee that he makes just right - light with cream and a little bit of sugar - husband cleans the kitchen, puts away the dishes, and then straightens the living room. All I have to do is tell him what I want and he makes it happen. And that's what makes him happy. I've got the easy job - eat the blueberry pancakes my husband makes for me because it makes him happy. If I only we had grown up together I could've had it this easy all along!<br /><br />So every weekend, I eat pancakes my husband makes for me and drink the coffee he brews for me and this makes the man happy...if only I were more like him.nicolehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04622280026772505067noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24943941.post-25261841063581529692008-06-25T05:50:00.000-07:002008-06-25T05:54:11.137-07:00OilWhy do people think that drilling for oil offshore will actually reduce the price of gasoline?!?! The fact is that oil is <span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;">NOT</span><span style="font-style: italic;"> </span>a renewable resource - the oil on the planet is running out. Drilling for it in more places will not stop it from running out. <span style="font-weight: bold;">We have to eventually stop using oil</span> - so instead of trying to dig up all the last drops of oil, how about we move forward and start using other forms of fuel - like solar, hydro, wind, etc. All of which are renewable and therefore CANNOT run out.<br /><br />I don't think that could be more clear. There is only so much oil and it's being depleted - the price of oil isn't going to go down, we just have to start using other fuels. The end.nicolehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04622280026772505067noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24943941.post-25562985992562747552008-06-24T18:33:00.000-07:002008-12-09T02:12:14.252-08:00Hello planet Earth<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">Soooo</span>, it's been three weeks since the <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">Ferberizing</span> began and, well, it's been wonderful! Sam now goes to sleep when we lay him down at bedtime and, usually, he goes down for his naps without a problem too! Dr. Ferber is a miracle worker! May all the sweet little cherubs in heaven bless Dr. Ferber's heart.<br /><br />Now the whole family is well rested and much happier all round.<br /><br />Sam is practically in college now - he loves to eat <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">avocados</span> I mash up with a fork, as well as bananas and pretty much everything we give him, except for the carrots I made. I'm not sure what it is but he does NOT like my carrots. He'll eat Gerber carrots but mine make him get this funny look on his face like I'm trying to poison him or something. I tasted them - they tasted like carrots...I'm not sure what the problem is. Maybe Gerber puts magic baby dust in their carrots???<br /><br />Oh yeah, and Sam <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">loooooves</span> to swim. He's a little fish. He will hang out in the pool at grandma's house for hours as happy as a can be.<br /><br />Here is Sam right before going swimming:<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPfSsqwLyUJxIhlbjQ6MZHrn7jU7GiMS3DWElwmJfScSDh0Q7Tfo5uhquKDh43f-h26BlR8qUck2Icj2Pr_oZe4ro7ukRnlR52EQuZ465Q9XD-1eX5W6eyUnHoffvribOwatTT8A/s1600-h/Picture+467.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPfSsqwLyUJxIhlbjQ6MZHrn7jU7GiMS3DWElwmJfScSDh0Q7Tfo5uhquKDh43f-h26BlR8qUck2Icj2Pr_oZe4ro7ukRnlR52EQuZ465Q9XD-1eX5W6eyUnHoffvribOwatTT8A/s400/Picture+467.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5215627292747598594" border="0" /></a>And here he is all tuckered out after swimming 90 laps:<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjutYoD6kXDEFP-Evw3_QgxkAmaztOtpYbAOc_ywy1mxgMyB4aD4bU90mcHT3aL4q0LYmrNXJq5azocUOerjz5TjJnXGBk69T5qlQYU6w79olPCuanRWhTkC0xq3YFNj-7whl5SUQ/s1600-h/Picture+474.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjutYoD6kXDEFP-Evw3_QgxkAmaztOtpYbAOc_ywy1mxgMyB4aD4bU90mcHT3aL4q0LYmrNXJq5azocUOerjz5TjJnXGBk69T5qlQYU6w79olPCuanRWhTkC0xq3YFNj-7whl5SUQ/s400/Picture+474.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5215627510154817810" border="0" /></a>We've also gone to <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">Turtleback</span> Zoo and the Bronx Zoo now, which also tuckered him out: <br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFs21REjAW2OCvUML4Q1CiVozcyCGNpJGgIBnw6XBAi_ZqjXM4bgs05Efat2jbZFCOJPaK23FScTGSZfoy1pGqROrKhMH7mEWwKtHO-Mmiul6WWzA49OcozopZpw6omiimEyn67Q/s1600-h/Picture+434.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFs21REjAW2OCvUML4Q1CiVozcyCGNpJGgIBnw6XBAi_ZqjXM4bgs05Efat2jbZFCOJPaK23FScTGSZfoy1pGqROrKhMH7mEWwKtHO-Mmiul6WWzA49OcozopZpw6omiimEyn67Q/s400/Picture+434.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5215628188008828466" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifwP4lG8U4ZJBUlIIV2ESztS6s5UK74yc8alqTXBtssvN0b7eKkU3VA7BF0jN92qia7sG7kCcWGn52xw52sly41TIXPEGZWXgYt3Qv799WpbgRTKURjZwUKlXvc0Ellkq4aaOhqQ/s1600-h/Picture+436.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifwP4lG8U4ZJBUlIIV2ESztS6s5UK74yc8alqTXBtssvN0b7eKkU3VA7BF0jN92qia7sG7kCcWGn52xw52sly41TIXPEGZWXgYt3Qv799WpbgRTKURjZwUKlXvc0Ellkq4aaOhqQ/s400/Picture+436.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5215628199728021842" border="0" /> </a><br /><br />I am also now taking my course in manuscript editing - because doing it all day just isn't enough - I just need to spend every waking hour reading and editing manuscripts - ALL DAY EVERY DAY DAMN IT! The course isn't too bad actually, and for a change I get to work on fiction! Woo <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">hoo</span>! The only down side is that I now have homework. How the f' am I supposed to find time to do homework?!? Sometimes I'm pretty sure I have mental problems.<br /><br />Otherwise life is good - work is good - Sam's new sitter is great - Charlie the cat is usually not fed cause we don't remember but I tell myself she's good too. . . she might disagree.<br /><br />Oh - but there is one thing...<br /><br />One really terrible, awful, horrible, nightmarish thing...<br /><br />It's <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6">Elif</span><br /><br />AKA Turkey<br /><br />She... well...<br /><br />She frigging left me forever and ever to move to Santa Monica California last weekend!!!!!! What a jerk! Seriously. Jerk. Dear <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7">Elif</span>, I hope you're reading this blog right now ya big brat, and I hope that you see that I'm calling you a big jerk. And I hope your new apartment is nice and that you make lots of new friends, and blah blah blah. Really I just hope you change your mind and come back!!! New York City is, like, <span style="font-style: italic;">way</span> cooler than LA. I mean, everyone knows that, every '<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8">cept</span> you, apparently. Oh well...<br /><br />Seriously, I miss her.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidK1FZkINFe7TTnrRYvwexn3_g3pPQpgDK3Un-oLYRzo1NUzi1ZPJJsNHNJO9zcEoJ2mFvOi4JxF8XssmNWOjJP401V1-0k3X7mKbSQ6dvN_FEm9LULBMtcKdNYi9gCNHxSLI6SQ/s1600-h/Picture+480.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidK1FZkINFe7TTnrRYvwexn3_g3pPQpgDK3Un-oLYRzo1NUzi1ZPJJsNHNJO9zcEoJ2mFvOi4JxF8XssmNWOjJP401V1-0k3X7mKbSQ6dvN_FEm9LULBMtcKdNYi9gCNHxSLI6SQ/s400/Picture+480.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5215630144557421922" border="0" /></a><br />The skinny little wench at her last Jersey City <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9">bbq</span>.nicolehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04622280026772505067noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24943941.post-15528898086129117192008-06-02T17:53:00.000-07:002008-06-03T05:36:08.434-07:00FerberizingOK, tonight we are beginning the ferberizing process. For those of you who aren't familiar with this it's a sleep training method developed by Dr. Richard Ferber. The basis premise is that babies who are rocked to sleep don't know how to put themselves to sleep. So when they wake up in the middle of the night, which is totally normal since even adults wake up, they don't know how to go back to sleep without being rocked - hence the crying in the middle of the night.<br /><br />So you put baby to bed while he or she is awake, you say goodnight and give kisses and then you leave the room. Usually the baby will start crying. You start off by going in to reassure baby that you're still here after 3 minutes, and if he's still crying you go back in after waiting 5 minutes, and then you wait 10 minutes. On the first night you go in every 10 minutes until he falls asleep. You do the same thing if/when he wakes up in the middle of the night. The second night you start by waiting 5 minutes, then 10 minutes, then 12 for the rest of the night. And it gets a little longer each night. Most people I've found online say the first two nights are bad but then there's a drastic improvement on nights 3 or 4.<br /><br />Night 1:<br />- <span style="font-weight: bold;">8:12</span>, put Sam in his crib. He cried, of course.<br />- 8:15, I went in to check on him, still crying.<br />- 8:21, he was still crying and looking at me like I clearly must have lost my mind.<br />- 8:26, checked in on him, couldn't go right to 10 minutes yet. He was crying and called me a jerk in baby language.<br />- 8:37, checked in, still crying.<br />- <span style="font-weight: bold;">8:46</span> Sam stopped crying!<br />- 9:01 he's still sleeping!<br />-<span style="font-weight: bold;">11:08</span>, he's up and it's definitely a little bit harder to listen to my guy be sad now.<br />- 11:15, my little man is yelling and I totally feel bad now, I think it's harder now that I'm on my own and the hubby is asleep. Hopefully he'll go to sleep fairly quickly like he did earlier tonight.<br />- 11:23, up and yelling, though not as loud as before.<br />- 11:31, some whimpering.<br />- 11:43, some more whimpering.<br />- <span style="font-weight: bold;">12:00</span>, silence...took a little longer this time.<br />- 3:50, he's up! He hasn't slept 4 hours in a row in 3 weeks. This is already improvement. Oh yeah, and I haven't slept 4 hours in weeks so I feel like a million bucks.<br />- 3:53, still up and crying.<br />- 4:00, still up and crying.<br />- 4:11, some whimpering so I can't go in.<br />- 4:13 crying.<br />- 4:15, sleeeeeeeping. But there is that stupid "circle of death" of creaky wood right in front is his door inside his room so I was trapped there. You should see the acrobatics I did in order to escape. Impressive. Only took 25 minutes this time and <span style="font-style: italic;">much</span> less crying, more whimpering.<br />- 7am awake time!<br /><br />Here is the brief: It took 30 minutes when he went to sleep, 50 minutes the first time he woke up, and 25 minutes the second time he woke up. The fact that he was only up twice was a small miracle in itself.<br /><br />Dr. Ferber is getting a batch of cookies from me. We'll see how night #2 goes.nicolehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04622280026772505067noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24943941.post-10234602570331831142008-05-13T13:26:00.000-07:002008-05-13T13:32:06.683-07:00Bad ideaI dunno if anyone has heard about the raging food crisis that's going on around the world, I realize it's easy to plug yourself into the tv after work and not get any non-entertainment information. So, if you haven't heard, there's a global food crisis. Food is at its lowest level in 30 years and combined with the financial slump in the US right now, it's a pretty big deal, even for Americans.<br /><br />With that in mind, doesn't it seem really weird that our government provides subsidies to farmers who are willing to divert the food they grow from the grocery store and put it in people's gas tanks? I mean, do we really want to put food in our gas tanks? The world population is growing by leaps and bounds, therefore, the need for food is growing by leaps in bounds. It would probably do our country (and the world) some good to take the food out of people's Hummers and put it on people's tables. That makes sense right?<br /><br />So why does our government pay farmers to turn food into fuel?nicolehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04622280026772505067noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24943941.post-273347700169106602008-05-09T12:38:00.000-07:002008-05-14T06:28:38.818-07:00New bloggerDear Blogosphere, <br /><br />(Or the three of you who read this blog) I would like to introduce the grand opening of the blog <a href="http://thishasbeendonebefore.blogspot.com">Just Don't Fake It</a> by my most beloved co-worker, the lovely Beth. Beth and I share an office together at Routledge and are both transforming the textbook as the world knows it with our amazingly brilliant, fabulous, and shiny development editing. I don't really know what that means.<br /><br />Beth is as opinionated as I am, which makes me love her, and she has the courage to fervently disagree with me, even in the morning when I haven't yet had my coffee. She's a brave soul. Please add her to your list of random things you need to read on a regular basis. <br /><br />I don't have a picture of her yet, but I am planning to torture her when she comes to visit me in a few weeks, and should be able to sneak a picture of her then. Muah ah ah ah ah.nicolehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04622280026772505067noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24943941.post-63637992632178565692008-05-02T19:32:00.000-07:002008-12-09T02:12:14.791-08:00Today was a good day. Sam was the calmest and happiest I think he's ever been. I actually got to do work! And I got stuff done at home - I'm even writing an entry! Best part of the whole day is that I got to take some new pictures, I haven't had time since going back to the office. <br /><br />Here is the little love of my life, who also happens to be half a tyrant. <br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSTSTFcfDYW0lEo3PqxaJkyPA8qSwXn5wPiCAO1K_vvvP0KNaXv9uY2y8LYm3F59NCUqrjDWplmIeDzSApFRrS8McRH1H9JWmoFvaZZzObaHPbdnTLM5jQD7DJoJIccOYR5CnM3w/s1600-h/Picture+379.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSTSTFcfDYW0lEo3PqxaJkyPA8qSwXn5wPiCAO1K_vvvP0KNaXv9uY2y8LYm3F59NCUqrjDWplmIeDzSApFRrS8McRH1H9JWmoFvaZZzObaHPbdnTLM5jQD7DJoJIccOYR5CnM3w/s400/Picture+379.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5195974870931110162" /></a><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3vAFNeUDgaWG42AneDGkfETzlno1pfqnxsrBxBPZFyhDOZdHA3NuGlsHUNtx2R9RPB2HCygGHtQYFOVA-QDq_DHwkhy2tx0xSd15RIb6iXbEdKRS0UAqawdvVXNxT2HoASRquGg/s1600-h/Picture+375.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3vAFNeUDgaWG42AneDGkfETzlno1pfqnxsrBxBPZFyhDOZdHA3NuGlsHUNtx2R9RPB2HCygGHtQYFOVA-QDq_DHwkhy2tx0xSd15RIb6iXbEdKRS0UAqawdvVXNxT2HoASRquGg/s400/Picture+375.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5195976064932018466" /></a><br /><br />Tomorrow is Grandma Dawn's birthday. Then Sunday Sam and I are having brunch with the former Longman Publishing crew. Next weekend is my last free weekend until January!!!! We're going to North/South Carolina on the 17th to introduce Sam to his southern kin, and the next week my class starts. Bummer. <br /><br />So I'll be MIA I'm sure. <br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiR2jt4CKO17tIZsvW-JJppH9ZVOcLYcJOwKR8fG5fIPqMfp8WjRrUnBlLzlpf22gW7msBM28qCWVvV0gOwUzjyEuTbuGzLAnRHoH8OSJgsJCvbfV6DYTzo_zQDOP7jCw09476sBQ/s1600-h/Picture+366.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiR2jt4CKO17tIZsvW-JJppH9ZVOcLYcJOwKR8fG5fIPqMfp8WjRrUnBlLzlpf22gW7msBM28qCWVvV0gOwUzjyEuTbuGzLAnRHoH8OSJgsJCvbfV6DYTzo_zQDOP7jCw09476sBQ/s400/Picture+366.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5195976859500968242" /></a><br /><br />I told Sam he is much too young to go posing like an Abercrombie & Fitch model - he just retorted by telling me I'm old and totally unhip. He's probably right. <br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbwwf0ij-cKNoqf2Wy4tIMVUm7qOthvFKZytobEza_MEW6o7nkp7xjFru1-kqPypXOzOQ1MMbBKBNJegIX74GKw1Xe7sFxb0teKvA3Gl9IveGA0XNqV3yWfR2aALsD_Sj1iVlp-w/s1600-h/Picture+365.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbwwf0ij-cKNoqf2Wy4tIMVUm7qOthvFKZytobEza_MEW6o7nkp7xjFru1-kqPypXOzOQ1MMbBKBNJegIX74GKw1Xe7sFxb0teKvA3Gl9IveGA0XNqV3yWfR2aALsD_Sj1iVlp-w/s400/Picture+365.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5195977495156128066" /></a>nicolehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04622280026772505067noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24943941.post-73094385762067001232008-04-27T14:50:00.000-07:002008-04-27T15:02:13.106-07:00Cloth diaperes and other things I don't have time forSo I ordered a box full of different types of cloth diapers. I opted for the fitted kind, which are shaped somewhat like a disposable diaper and have closures, rather than being a flat sheet you have to fold and pin. The box came in the mail about two weeks ago, and, here it sits on my desk - unopened.<br /><br />Seeing as I haven't had time to open the box and give the diapers their initial wash I think this means I don't have time to wash diapers every other day or so. Probably, right? I then made time to search for a diaper service in Montclair. And much to my surprise, dismay, chagrin, and alarm there is no frigging diaper service in Montclair!!! How the hell can this be? This is Montclair, the uber liberal, artsy, green, progressive Yippy (Yuppie/Hippie) city-burb of New Jersey! They've got everything any mom, arty, bookish, monied, green person could ever ask for! Everything, that is, but cloth diapering service. I guess it's because all the wealthy Montclair moms have their nannies do the laundry, including the cloth diapers. SUCH A BUMMER!<br /><br />So, I am going to have to look into other more environmentally friendly diapers as I can't afford to quit my job so I can stay home washing f'ing diapers all day. Why is it so hard to try to live in an environmentally friendly and sustainable way? Why!?<br /><br />I also don't have time right now to:<br /><br />1. Edit my friend's manuscript<br />2. Clean the house<br />3. Go out and shop for a good book<br />4. Put in all the extra time I'd like to on work stuff (actually I just choose not to do this as I'd rather hang with Sam) <br /><br />At the very least I am able to breast feed Sam which means he's should have super human immunity to, like every disease and virus ever. Right? And hes should never gain any excess weight, and he's going to be a super frigging genius. Or at least that's what they say in all the crap you find about breast feeding. Between work, taking care of Sam and home, nursing, and these classes I'm going to take to finally finish the NYU publishing certificate I no longer have time for much else, including shaving my legs. Poor Tripp. <br /><br />Someone should just pay me a salary for being so awesome so I could spend more time doing the other stuff I would like to do. I mean, seriously.nicolehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04622280026772505067noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24943941.post-15354284356928472132008-04-16T09:23:00.001-07:002008-04-16T09:31:20.530-07:00ElectionsDear blogosphere,<br /><br />I'm catching up on my NPR Story of the Day podcasts here at the office and the April 4th story is about the Democratic race. It sounds like some ridiculous people who call themselves Democrats are feeling so polarized by the Clinton V. Obama race that they will vote McCain if their Democrat of choice is not elected.<br /><br />This...is stupid.<br /><br />Personally, I think I prefer Obama over Clinton. One thing that is 100% certain though, is that I do not support McCain. And the most important thing for this upcoming election is that we not have another Republican voted in for four more disastrous years. I don't care if you like Hilary better or if you think Barack is the right candidate - you just better not go screwing up the election for everyone else in the country by voting for McCain out of adolescent spite! Are these people kidding me? Grow up! Great idea - vote for McCain and you'll really show those other Democrats! Morons. Ugh. I'm just so disgusted with some people. Put away your stupid "I support Clinton/Obama" stickers, magnets, yard signs and try to think with more than .5% of your brain! It doesn't really matter all that much if Clinton wins or Obama wins, what does matter is that McCain does not. It should now be your goal, if you call yourself a Democrat - to get a Democrat elected. At this point any Democrat will be a step (or 20) up from our current situation.nicolehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04622280026772505067noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24943941.post-3077605113102009882008-03-03T18:35:00.000-08:002008-12-09T02:12:15.269-08:00Sam has now got enough visual ability that he can see himself in the mirror attached to the mobile on his swing. And as you can see, he's very excited about it...<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1C9KFOj-QRbDE9vGyZFIaXEhWXH29ygi1kYTD4PDClYam2PD2qyP7yQdx0xocqh-oUYS1YWfcGKjZetb62CR9m1P557N1oIytjcoAeUp5yw4lVPFbg1VM5DWZdN5WhYW6jkjuPQ/s1600-h/Picture+174.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1C9KFOj-QRbDE9vGyZFIaXEhWXH29ygi1kYTD4PDClYam2PD2qyP7yQdx0xocqh-oUYS1YWfcGKjZetb62CR9m1P557N1oIytjcoAeUp5yw4lVPFbg1VM5DWZdN5WhYW6jkjuPQ/s400/Picture+174.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5173710916643249218" /></a><br /><br />Isn't that enough to make you just want to eat his little face off? Well you can't because I've got dibs on it. <br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXLIHab3mzocuTAM0SyfzHFkLGK_i-GCQbyz2nKi7CZQl2fiCdijRcMTSc3CyRbJWq38Icj0v3Fvqs6yQE50oKRAuKutgSGtC7sdS2lwf28S0Xy6QZMA_qMvGaWYUjD-rhyphenhyphena1w0w/s1600-h/Picture+173.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXLIHab3mzocuTAM0SyfzHFkLGK_i-GCQbyz2nKi7CZQl2fiCdijRcMTSc3CyRbJWq38Icj0v3Fvqs6yQE50oKRAuKutgSGtC7sdS2lwf28S0Xy6QZMA_qMvGaWYUjD-rhyphenhyphena1w0w/s400/Picture+173.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5173965597558541410" /></a><br /><br />I am now less than one week away from going back to work, eck. Thankfully I'm going to be working from home for the first four weeks. It'll let me ease back into the work flow a little more smoothly. Looking at my work inbox and all of the emails piling up there, I'd really rather just quit and find a new job where I can start all over. But that's probably just my Libran inability to follow through on things. <br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYeA1_bAw47xWl3SFI-AgaQD-aT7HsqOh65P2-rNiaa44TorWoJS5xGZ292h0ycBN2zuszcwcW4mISQefYlzvN1M42izSPqqPF5Ei1MOzhsp8KoCulvD-lSwigcd0T38PowwH8JQ/s1600-h/Picture+177.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYeA1_bAw47xWl3SFI-AgaQD-aT7HsqOh65P2-rNiaa44TorWoJS5xGZ292h0ycBN2zuszcwcW4mISQefYlzvN1M42izSPqqPF5Ei1MOzhsp8KoCulvD-lSwigcd0T38PowwH8JQ/s400/Picture+177.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5173966022760303730" /></a><br />I'm not sure how things will work out when I go back to work at the office. Poor Tripp can't handle it when Sam starts screaming like a banshee. Right now I do a lot of the leg work when it comes to taking care of the little man since I'm home all day and Tripp's at work. But once we're both working Tripp's gonna have to start taking on more and I'm afraid he's in for a rude awakening. Sam's usually really happy and playful when Tripp gets home from work, and he doesn't see the cranky Sam. For the past two nights Sam has started screaming as soon as Tripp gets home, and then Tripp gets really upset, and takes it personally. He may have a mental break down when I fist go back to the office. <br /><br />Wish me luck for next week!nicolehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04622280026772505067noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24943941.post-19073083890665462672008-02-22T07:39:00.000-08:002008-12-09T02:12:15.859-08:00Winter blahs<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiS2ai2F7oa_LbAzQDFy1qXPNphZm4phaWx0Nlo-NMCQ9w1RfiMmYYBbSZ2uLdl9pM0PWjLAZ_HJdVu6bZZUxeOAyTB99groUjihdTSrzPORebY33tRBWG_QeNu4ooeC2WEeHnoXg/s1600-h/Picture+159.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiS2ai2F7oa_LbAzQDFy1qXPNphZm4phaWx0Nlo-NMCQ9w1RfiMmYYBbSZ2uLdl9pM0PWjLAZ_HJdVu6bZZUxeOAyTB99groUjihdTSrzPORebY33tRBWG_QeNu4ooeC2WEeHnoXg/s400/Picture+159.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5169837462688788498" /></a><br />Yesterday I experienced my first little taste of what it must be like to have postpartum depression. I woke up feeling pretty crappy for no reason I could think of and it lasted all day. The main issue is this freezing cold weather, which is keeping Sam and I trapped inside all day! On Tuesday I spent an hour getting ready to go for a walk with Sam, bundled him up, strapped on the Baby Bjorn and headed out for a walk that only lasted an hour. So a lot of work for not a lot of pay off. Yesterday it was 26 degrees outside and I just didn't feel like making all that effort to get Sam wrapped up in 60 layers to go out for a walk, so I sat around and moped instead. <br /><br />And to think I thought I'd be happy staying home with Sam for his first year instead of going back to work - yeah right! I can't even handle my fourth week of being at home and being inactive outside of housewife type work. I was feeling like I wasn't accomplishing anything, and I can't stand being inactive! Don't get me wrong, I did three loads of laundry, changed the sheets on the bed, changed 12 diapers, nursed Sam 8 times, and on and on, but I'm not doing anything creative or that requires higher level thinking, and it really got me down.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZI_9lhQajC4O6ZbS18kkZn0YGYhMrqKvReZFOUFE3nQIoxB-L4YU8hI7BF-1N8-v1t6Epoozybh3Xs3m6IVwMOnxsJv3i_l3FvvSGghRTbtcMFTPe66YP14sKZkZbeARnBk2Ouw/s1600-h/Picture+164.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZI_9lhQajC4O6ZbS18kkZn0YGYhMrqKvReZFOUFE3nQIoxB-L4YU8hI7BF-1N8-v1t6Epoozybh3Xs3m6IVwMOnxsJv3i_l3FvvSGghRTbtcMFTPe66YP14sKZkZbeARnBk2Ouw/s400/Picture+164.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5169838390401724450" /></a><br />Thankfully I'm in a much better mood today, because this F'ING snow means I had to cancel today's lunch date with Michelle and we clearly aren't going out for a walk with the possibility of losing Sam in a snow pile the second we walk out the door! If this had happened yesterday I'm pretty sure I would have been in tears all day. Instead I've accepted our lot and I'm prepared to watch a lot of TV. I'm afraid I didn't invest in any new books because I thought that I'd be too busy at home to have time to read. Law & Order it is!<br /><br />I'm going to do a little dance, kind of like the opposite of a rain dance, to help spring get here sooner, like tomorrow. <br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghllbqKx85jLC-LmFbV4WDKLq3Uq9aM-SBQb775ligTEVsYy_kiR0APgCw8ZFkDvPAfuIX2tuLmzeIRVpQTJOrqHIKDG-YSM-6rtcbH8AbNaEmWTS-up42HJcwkqKvgoiY238UfA/s1600-h/Picture+163.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghllbqKx85jLC-LmFbV4WDKLq3Uq9aM-SBQb775ligTEVsYy_kiR0APgCw8ZFkDvPAfuIX2tuLmzeIRVpQTJOrqHIKDG-YSM-6rtcbH8AbNaEmWTS-up42HJcwkqKvgoiY238UfA/s400/Picture+163.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5169838983107211314" /></a><br /><br />*On an unrelated note, a quick question, is Whoopi Goldberg a lesbian? Does anyone have any insight on this? I'm really curious.nicolehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04622280026772505067noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24943941.post-23291088744744141132008-02-08T13:11:00.000-08:002008-12-09T02:12:16.534-08:00Notes from the Mommy Underground<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgPkw5o-MBqO_XZxbciPjy2ATZ38tuNa5PWgNoKQ7JFfQIA0-Sh2sWFk6aWDKch6xsKrGrAd9hmgFT5cnYgL96BZmtkmJiwgZsN_SA9467-rKJiQZWY7vfyIZQpJqi2piNzY_xxQ/s1600-h/Picture+091.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgPkw5o-MBqO_XZxbciPjy2ATZ38tuNa5PWgNoKQ7JFfQIA0-Sh2sWFk6aWDKch6xsKrGrAd9hmgFT5cnYgL96BZmtkmJiwgZsN_SA9467-rKJiQZWY7vfyIZQpJqi2piNzY_xxQ/s400/Picture+091.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5164738614046037122" /></a><br />So, I've realized there are a few things that most people under-emphasize about new parenthood. The main issue that is skirted around is the lack of sleep. I know most people will tell you to say goodbye to a decent night's sleep for several months/years, but I mean, you REALLY don't get to sleep. <br /><br />Last night Sam managed to sleep for about an hour, in four 15 minute increments spread out over several hours. AWESOME! But the really strange thing is my brain seems to have adapted to my new ridiculous sleep schedule. When I wake up from the last brief sleep period and the sun is up I'm pretty cranky, but after being awake for maybe an hour or so I snap out of it and feel relatively normal. Who knows though, maybe after another week or two I'll just collapse from exhaustion? <br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjarRLYF63DoIfLfez-2JXuLa6TG4P55z5gsStFYQ1zGeSlgmlPj2QzkSqQVExN1edmNjWGjhlm9YvSwOuMsocoTX6XbM7eAaUAH1_U_XM22ZODsfCp0gUTNgE9sB7Hrp1gBbf9Kw/s1600-h/Picture+103.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjarRLYF63DoIfLfez-2JXuLa6TG4P55z5gsStFYQ1zGeSlgmlPj2QzkSqQVExN1edmNjWGjhlm9YvSwOuMsocoTX6XbM7eAaUAH1_U_XM22ZODsfCp0gUTNgE9sB7Hrp1gBbf9Kw/s400/Picture+103.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5164739202456556690" /></a><br />And Sam likes to sleep on his own schedule, thank you very much. Once he falls asleep for one of his naps he can sleep for hours, but of course, only during the middle of the day! Never, ever, at night. He's stubborn. I don't think he gets that from Tripp. And trying to wake this boy up is nearly impossible, I unwrap his blankets, take off all his clothes so he's only in a diaper, run a wet wash cloth over his head, and still this kid won't wake up. This leads to under-emphasized issue number 2 - breastfeeding. <br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYiiD5pp4SLfziLFylAxiCliOA0SX9M3-Su_DozSq7KlRus-1OiaNPFns-5IVduJSbTnxJp3B9lvRDmpYphLVLb7kQVz3anjQBvG42m_fYgrcOaLhvqspOeZT4dqN7n-PyT30EKQ/s1600-h/Picture+107.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYiiD5pp4SLfziLFylAxiCliOA0SX9M3-Su_DozSq7KlRus-1OiaNPFns-5IVduJSbTnxJp3B9lvRDmpYphLVLb7kQVz3anjQBvG42m_fYgrcOaLhvqspOeZT4dqN7n-PyT30EKQ/s400/Picture+107.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5164739687787861154" /></a><br /><br />If Sam won't wake up and the ladies are ready to be relieved, oh there can be problems. I'm talking 36DD size problems. Luckily we invested in a pump ahead of time, and it happens to be a pretty good one. Otherwise I might have given up on boob feedings after day 3. The first time one of my breasts was engorged I was pretty sure I was going to die, it hurt, when I pumped nothing would come out and I had no idea how to fix it. In the end I took some ibuprofen, put an ice pack on the broken boob, and fell asleep. When I woke up I nursed Sam and it went away. So all in all it wasn't too catastrophic, mostly just frightening. There is also the issue of having to be at the beck and call of a constantly, constantly, constantly hungry newborn. I spend more time with my shirt off then with it on. Sam pretty much eats every hour. But he also has the tendency to fall asleep as he's breastfeeding so instead of eating for the recommened 20-40 minutes at each feeding, he eats for about 10 minutes then passes out and rolls off my chest with his mouth open, and milk dripping down his fat neck rolls like a drunken sailor. So somedays it seems like he isn't really getting any food at all. On those days I feed him breast milk from a bottle so I can see how many ounces he's eating. Formula would definitely be easier. I'm not sure if it's guilt, knowledge, instinct or what but despite all the difficulties I still don't want to give up on breastfeeding just yet. I'm pretty fortunate in that Sam was able to latch on like a champ right after he was born. He knows what he wants, that's for sure. <br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVGEWGVkfkeBMn3tS7E2D6LmxWXjKkfivN-K-bwH1JCmwNlDrAKYLEY6cWzUHsXJXac8b7NR1roER-ux_IDb2EvzxMHTnw9raDE19cER6SXxDqVNZV2b8ftxlSLM-eBDDLbAaDZQ/s1600-h/Picture+112.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVGEWGVkfkeBMn3tS7E2D6LmxWXjKkfivN-K-bwH1JCmwNlDrAKYLEY6cWzUHsXJXac8b7NR1roER-ux_IDb2EvzxMHTnw9raDE19cER6SXxDqVNZV2b8ftxlSLM-eBDDLbAaDZQ/s400/Picture+112.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5164740035680212146" /></a><br />OK aside from the above mentioned issues I would take 98 more little Sam's. All he has to do is burp when I burp him and I'm the proudest, happiest mom ever. He also happens to have extremely cute neck rolls and chubby baby thighs that I want to eat. The lack of sleep and sore bosoms are totally worth it. I mean, if you saw his feet you'd totally want a Sam of your own. <br /><br />*Totally unrelated to motherhood - I'm so super, uber completely bummed and can't believe that our two options for the next president of the United States are either McCain or Clinton. Ugh! McCain after 8 years of Bush is the WORST possible thing that could happen to the world. I don't think that what we need is an even more pro-military president. And I just don't love Clinton. I don't really love Obama all that much, but he is the least like the others which is a good thing. Poor Kucinich never had a chance, which is a real shame because HE would have definitely been an advocate for change. Plus, he has the same birthday as me.nicolehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04622280026772505067noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24943941.post-17218366646052082962008-02-05T10:06:00.000-08:002008-12-09T02:12:17.525-08:00The story of Sam<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicv6Pnesee79SA5f-N0UUreir2lMr_7Ikns3Uf-5Uqx0LihqYJSAKtDtfBZDkIjYjLZM8AJaYn1cKyA7XNeFDUclE9mqsgUNJ_ielGZgz-7nYGgnLziB2Lto2Hn1Sves0-WaSZWg/s1600-h/Picture+085.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicv6Pnesee79SA5f-N0UUreir2lMr_7Ikns3Uf-5Uqx0LihqYJSAKtDtfBZDkIjYjLZM8AJaYn1cKyA7XNeFDUclE9mqsgUNJ_ielGZgz-7nYGgnLziB2Lto2Hn1Sves0-WaSZWg/s400/Picture+085.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5163579479682258018" /></a><br /><br />Here are the down and dirty details...<br /><br />My water broke on Friday, the 25th around 8 in the morning. Tripp is usually already on the train to work by 8 but he had worked till 2:30am the night before so luckily, was going in a little later. I was laying in bed while Tripp showered and I kind of sort of thought maybe my water had broken, but I didn't want to get my hopes up so I just laid there for a while. When I finally got out of bed there was absolutely no confusing the ensuing waterfall for anything but my water breaking. So exciting! So I went in the bathroom and told Tripp he couldn't go to work that day. <br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeaAFIwbGAHakmbJvpz2kNBqHp9wqOmXsmTZkInljZnMKgDpbuq26H1ckjsfiwrU2KFnnYJP8nSQdDEN-0tl9kpXWQv8wg2hyPdz3TOUv9oDa-BZutE3fHUpT1TlgX6BOVO81Y6Q/s1600-h/Picture+013.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeaAFIwbGAHakmbJvpz2kNBqHp9wqOmXsmTZkInljZnMKgDpbuq26H1ckjsfiwrU2KFnnYJP8nSQdDEN-0tl9kpXWQv8wg2hyPdz3TOUv9oDa-BZutE3fHUpT1TlgX6BOVO81Y6Q/s400/Picture+013.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5163578375875662898" /></a><br />Now something they don't tell you about your water breaking is that once it breaks it isn't just one gush and you're done. It doesn't stop until you're pushing the baby out! Once your water breaks there's pretty much a constant flow of some kind or another. Seeing as I hadn't had my period for about 10 months there were of course, no pads in the apartment, and we were both so excited and frantic that neither of us thought to go pick up some pads. So I spent a good deal of time on the toilet Friday morning, directing Tripp on what to pack/clean/do before we had to go to the hospital. <br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj20KuChnfVzeK9jDbucKRUoDuNLhHy_KFSQB9rorG0xIc6ToVyrqMfo7TPCDSIwuYZucaKNfzVFHLA3-yog_waC_34_t0PZjjtOxGN-cfH9r8YnYgMEvFqTIBuvk1kGvZtGTWR0Q/s1600-h/Picture+024.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj20KuChnfVzeK9jDbucKRUoDuNLhHy_KFSQB9rorG0xIc6ToVyrqMfo7TPCDSIwuYZucaKNfzVFHLA3-yog_waC_34_t0PZjjtOxGN-cfH9r8YnYgMEvFqTIBuvk1kGvZtGTWR0Q/s400/Picture+7024.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_516357823768013890" /></a><br />We spoke to my midwife around 9 and she told us to stop by the office at noon so she could see how much progress I was making. At our visit I was 2cm dilated (out of 10 total) and my contractions weren't very regular so she sent us home for a while with instructions to time the contractions and call her in a few hours. Despite what you might see on those shows like Baby Story, the hours did not go by slowly at all, they fleeeeew by. We stopped at Starbucks and Wholefoods and got a bunch of junk food and then put on a movie and Tripp took a nap (it was a chick flick). At 3:30 the midwife called wondering why we hadn't called her yet, I guess she expected us to be nervous and in a rush since it was our first time being in labor. We made a date to meet the midwife at the hospital at 5 and got ready to go.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNKNM3QdF_5gQjvaQFyjUjlKj8annF-j45LPMkorhTBIhjdEc6WrzrVv9lXGWbsFJ2Q_VGa7E_icfxcKZGLXAzyJK46qt8maW-aKHlhVmeH3Ysn4ztYPy9jVaLsH560Qz51zeRyw/s1600-h/Picture+083.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNKNM3QdF_5gQjvaQFyjUjlKj8annF-j45LPMkorhTBIhjdEc6WrzrVv9lXGWbsFJ2Q_VGa7E_icfxcKZGLXAzyJK46qt8maW-aKHlhVmeH3Ysn4ztYPy9jVaLsH560Qz51zeRyw/s400/Picture+083.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5163579144674808914" /></a><br />On the car ride to the hospital the contractions finally started to get a little more regular, every 7 minutes, and more painful. Once we stepped foot in the hospital though, it was full on labor like a slap in the face! Seriously! I guess the baby knew it was safe to arrive at that point. We got the room where I would deliver and I had to get on my knees, for some reason that was the most comfortable position for me to be in when the contractions came. The midwife didn't get there till 6 and by that point I was in full-on labor and my contractions were way intense. Poor Tripp and my mom were trying to talk to me to give me encouragement and I demanded that no one speak to me, so they had to whisper to the nurse. Tripp would try to massage my back like we practiced in our birthing class and I of course demanded that no one touch me. So my poor husband and mom had to stand around staring silently at me since that was all I could stand. I pretty much could have gone off into the woods to give birth by myself. <br /><br />When the midwife got there and checked me she may have mentioned the birthing tub since this had been my plan, but I had to concentrate so hard on surviving the contractions that I didn't hear or comprehend much of what anyone said. I tried a few different birthing positions I learned about but they all seemed to make the pain worse so I laid on my side the entire time, arms clenched around the rail on the side of the bed, thank god they attached those things really well cause I damn near ripped it off. By the time I got to 7cm dilated I couldn't take it anymore and asked for an epidural. They normally try to do the epidural in between contractions if possible, but mine were coming one minute apart so it was impossible. The anesthesiologist tried asking me on a scale of 1-10 what the pain was like and I shooshed him as well. My contractions were insane, you can see them on a computer screen and they were going off the charts, less than a minute apart, and lasting almost two minutes each. So not fun. Once the epidural was in I was completely transformed back to my normal self, I could hear, see, and speak again, and people in the room were once again allowed to talk and come near me. <br /><br />Let me just say, "labor" with an epidural is SO not labor at all. It was a walk in the freaking park once that thing kicked in. I could deliver babies all day if I had an epidural in the whole time. Really. I was ready to push 30 minutes after the pain meds and pushing didn't even hurt! So at 9:30 we could see the baby's head and we knew that he/she had hair, big surprise to me! And the midwife said we'd meet the baby any minute. Well, nearly four hours later we still hadn't met the baby! I pushed like a mother, I mean, I'm impatient, I wanted to meet the damn kid already! But to no avail. Once we were nearing the four hour mark the midwife decided to call a doctor for assistance cause I was running out of energy after being in labor for so long and not eating. The doctor arrived and as soon as he looked at my lady parts which were displayed for all the world to see the first thing he said was, "Oh you poor thing, you've been pushing for a long time." Apparently that whole area looked about as haggard as my face. <br /><br />It came down to trying to get the baby out with forceps and if that didn't work they were going to have to do a c-section. I immediately became hysterical and 10 more nurses poured into the room with tools and instruments of torture and extra lights. After inserting the largest speculum ever created and using the forceps, which I happily never saw, and three more pushes Samuel Oliver McCarty FINALLY entered the world at 1am on Saturday January 26th. The doctor said his head was in the right position so he wasn't sure why Sam wouldn't come out. Then a nurse yelled "8lbs. 2oz." and the doctor said, "Oh, well that's why." They all estimated he'd weigh 7lbs, but they didn't take into consideration how much ice cream mommy fed him while in the womb. <br /><br />So my big, fat, pudgy man is finally here safe and sound and none the worse for wear despite being pulled out by giant salad tongs. I think I would have freaked if we had to go the c-section route. My days since arriving home consist of nursing, then pumping, then changing diapers, then feeding, pumping, some rocking, more feeding, more pumping, and almost no sleep. There are also many occasions for spontaneously bursting into tears. A side effect of hormonal fluctuations and a lack of sleep. <br /><br />Today I blow dried my hair and shaved for the first time in ages, and so feel a little less like a beast, well, I still feel kind of like a cow with all the nursing and pumping, but I don't think that's going to change for a while. A well groomed cow, at least. <br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9M7yqRVRH3HEJE64crt7elVcL11LqCq0k2oZhrDGpJXoP2VvYBlZS3w43bA2BzsvyZcBPuPm8tknxontTaj6zTqHwKp0Clui9rLyHxDWwUf1K4W1W3j3joxM_ngnkbaqzi0WizA/s1600-h/Picture+086.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9M7yqRVRH3HEJE64crt7elVcL11LqCq0k2oZhrDGpJXoP2VvYBlZS3w43bA2BzsvyZcBPuPm8tknxontTaj6zTqHwKp0Clui9rLyHxDWwUf1K4W1W3j3joxM_ngnkbaqzi0WizA/s400/Picture+086.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5163580020848137330" /></a>nicolehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04622280026772505067noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24943941.post-19615413188058224812008-01-11T20:25:00.000-08:002008-12-09T02:12:18.015-08:00UpdateI'm not even going to try to explain a 14 week lapse. Things happened. Here are some pictures. <br /><br />December 9th<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWwGib7Z-07vnsfPHk7sM6hthlTWrN0m5eBJvu54RqPc9dpwc5eG9WyxD69fzQRsU5Xj3zcgJwDcSTFVHF0c7zRidCxOBRuhXjRKdv4SOSqeZGPNzeOSPk_VLvWLFAAabH9P1q7A/s1600-h/Picture+008.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWwGib7Z-07vnsfPHk7sM6hthlTWrN0m5eBJvu54RqPc9dpwc5eG9WyxD69fzQRsU5Xj3zcgJwDcSTFVHF0c7zRidCxOBRuhXjRKdv4SOSqeZGPNzeOSPk_VLvWLFAAabH9P1q7A/s400/Picture+008.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5154442003783078530" /></a><br /><br />January 9th<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMoaXDlgcdkyWRc0xb-ndssIM5u8Ik0DpmxtGDD3Vvp6cr5QR6nYnSrDqpJOyyUkxs-FYLMbkXM8AFB3tja0zF-f4OkvPSUXChuieHCmHsYJugzSFwLaw6w-4BDxFaU-42ausWwQ/s1600-h/Picture+009.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMoaXDlgcdkyWRc0xb-ndssIM5u8Ik0DpmxtGDD3Vvp6cr5QR6nYnSrDqpJOyyUkxs-FYLMbkXM8AFB3tja0zF-f4OkvPSUXChuieHCmHsYJugzSFwLaw6w-4BDxFaU-42ausWwQ/s400/Picture+009.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5154442364560331410" /></a><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhrggJueV8gC-3k4zelfUCuVWOaMh9N1T_r1qbc6aZbCUZm5Wo3qXFF8BRTwzT9xnQ6m55P7GObDAS3rLIZHYvgQKAufDzkWR0LjnKwAzf4a7LbggSpvv4l_EBEx-Tk3YoPGXpfw/s1600-h/Picture+010.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhrggJueV8gC-3k4zelfUCuVWOaMh9N1T_r1qbc6aZbCUZm5Wo3qXFF8BRTwzT9xnQ6m55P7GObDAS3rLIZHYvgQKAufDzkWR0LjnKwAzf4a7LbggSpvv4l_EBEx-Tk3YoPGXpfw/s400/Picture+010.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5154442699567780514" /></a><br /><br />There are still 11-13 days till my due date (the 22nd or 24th depending on which doctor I listen to)so that means my belly is going to continue to grow. I'm not sure how the hell I'm going to continue walking if this baby gets any bigger!nicolehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04622280026772505067noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24943941.post-56788364949353222542007-11-10T20:19:00.001-08:002008-12-09T02:12:18.270-08:0029 weeks and 4 daysAlmost at week 30, scary!<br /><br />We went for our hospital tour today and got to see where baby will be entering the world. Tripp is totally more comfortable now that he's seen the labor and delivery room and met some of the staff. I however am not so thrilled. I want to do a water birth and the hospital is having lots of work done and was supposed to have three birthing tubs in place by now. Well they don't have any! They have one portable tub and it's available on a first come, first served basis. So, if someone happens to be using it when I go into labor, I'm out of luck. Unless they get one or two more in place by the end of January. Otherwise the new maternity wing at the hospital is great. <br /><br />Here's the belly as of today. Baby should weigh about 2 1/2 pounds now! I have two and a half months till the big day and baby makes his/her debut. Can't wait! <br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFmgjmHuvqvLQP-yhigDotIASyccbUwJYvgyoBoWq-CUoI_HppccEWbTI2rwdJr1qonscOXW_gG2GcKfnQhnIZ7UCdSOWxx1zfAIN5z9aqG3qR-wo3E5v2hNLDkMDxQTYBUMrV-Q/s1600-h/IMG_5407.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFmgjmHuvqvLQP-yhigDotIASyccbUwJYvgyoBoWq-CUoI_HppccEWbTI2rwdJr1qonscOXW_gG2GcKfnQhnIZ7UCdSOWxx1zfAIN5z9aqG3qR-wo3E5v2hNLDkMDxQTYBUMrV-Q/s400/IMG_5407.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5131434609097304786" /></a><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiU2lqbHen1rFS2Tyabh8RYbgT4wW2IRRcwDDlVfvnQ3H2v2f_weGtmGPvgmIGQ6ev6PATlDIyfsqXxR0CaOiIwCshkkCOS40xdMAABAf_ggYLA6PDGBOmpGWMrlVkpLBPh4OJPGw/s1600-h/IMG_5408.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiU2lqbHen1rFS2Tyabh8RYbgT4wW2IRRcwDDlVfvnQ3H2v2f_weGtmGPvgmIGQ6ev6PATlDIyfsqXxR0CaOiIwCshkkCOS40xdMAABAf_ggYLA6PDGBOmpGWMrlVkpLBPh4OJPGw/s400/IMG_5408.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5131434862500375266" /></a><br />Well...sort of...I can probably wait for the whole delivery thing. If baby could just be shipped to our apartment then I'd be REALLY excited about baby's arrival.nicolehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04622280026772505067noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24943941.post-86937212223571960302007-11-10T19:41:00.000-08:002008-12-09T02:12:19.597-08:00Baby party!<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOivpv1g0Ot45UOJiK_3JFjyYDm2bL2TwOHA8_flqhg_r_GngfjX-DhyphenhyphenaPVmoEzMCDfVIoG3jJcUuzDFTUYwCkbNGzfoiIYyxclSO8L7xg9GBoAxroN12vDPdiJKJnCAOOicVlZA/s1600-h/IMG_5288.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOivpv1g0Ot45UOJiK_3JFjyYDm2bL2TwOHA8_flqhg_r_GngfjX-DhyphenhyphenaPVmoEzMCDfVIoG3jJcUuzDFTUYwCkbNGzfoiIYyxclSO8L7xg9GBoAxroN12vDPdiJKJnCAOOicVlZA/s320/IMG_5288.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5131430284065237634" /></a><br />Okay, I say that posting about an event one week from when it happened isn't bad at all (unless of course you're a journalist, then you're out of a job). So last Saturday we had our first "shower" but I prefer to call it a baby party. <br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQ4OdjnKb_EEPSbO2CR1InywdgZqSSfJhe6bFY_uwBPKN5P-muPFKWutWQyon9n5k13G_f-VbPCzAJwhqbJxr9iNAsKX46OUB8sq5sRMv3TZEsw5n57Ipt3YTm3aOxfffv_F80Ow/s1600-h/IMG_5258.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQ4OdjnKb_EEPSbO2CR1InywdgZqSSfJhe6bFY_uwBPKN5P-muPFKWutWQyon9n5k13G_f-VbPCzAJwhqbJxr9iNAsKX46OUB8sq5sRMv3TZEsw5n57Ipt3YTm3aOxfffv_F80Ow/s400/IMG_5258.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5131429171668707922" /></a><br />We decided to throw a little party to celebrate the coming baby and get everyone together for one last time before the baby gets here. It was fantastic! For me, anyway. All of the Longman crew, plus the Brooklyn crew made their way from the city all the way to the Jersey 'burbs in Montclair. I know it's pretty lame to have to go to Port Authority on a Saturday and take a bus to Jersey, so Tripp and I were really thrilled that everyone came! It meant a lot to me and I'm planning to repay the favor once baby gets here. He or she will be gracing these folks with his/her presence at some parties/showers/BBQs for sure.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQusAD2sS4VEipmjUg5nmLhlyivseYcDCJWtV4aiwHpT00lpskYuD0P0wuXxSxXe7Y2ZXYt1NZmfAeC0tJqGa_R7nTOem2-xSAdOErl2Kc28lssvp2MLgfxGgHxUk_B1EcxCoeKA/s1600-h/IMG_5259.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQusAD2sS4VEipmjUg5nmLhlyivseYcDCJWtV4aiwHpT00lpskYuD0P0wuXxSxXe7Y2ZXYt1NZmfAeC0tJqGa_R7nTOem2-xSAdOErl2Kc28lssvp2MLgfxGgHxUk_B1EcxCoeKA/s400/IMG_5259.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5131428926855572034" /></a><br />There was yummy food to be had, though definitely more pumpkin than is ever really necessary. In the end though, I think all the pumpkin was a good thing since it's chock full of vitamin A and that's good for everyone! So here are some of the recipes we used:<br /><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">Turkey Pumpkin Chili</span><br />1 cup chopped onion<br />2 cloves minced garlic<br />1 lb. ground turkey<br />1 can (14.5 oz) diced tomatoes<br />1 can kidney beans <br />2 cups pumpkin puree<br />1 1/2 tbsps chili powder<br />1/2 tsp black pepper<br />1/2 tsp salt<br />1/2 tsp cayenne pepper<br /><br />(Optional) <br />1 cup chopped bell peppers <br />Shredded cheddar Cheese<br />Sour cream<br /><br />Combine all ingredients in a slow cooker. Cook on low for 6-8 hours or high for 4-6 hours. <br /><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;"><br />Pumpkin Chocolate Chip Cookies</span><br />1 cup pumpkin puree<br />1 cup white sugar<br />1/2 cup vegetable oil<br />1 egg<br />2 cups flour<br />2 tsp baking powder<br />2 tsp ground cinnamon<br />1/2 tsp salt<br />1 tsp baking soda<br />1 tsp milk<br />1 tbspn vanilla extract<br />1 cup chocolate chips<br /><br />1. Combine pumpkin, sugar, vegetable oil, and egg. In a separate bowl stir together flour, baking powder, cinnamon, and salt. Dissolve the baking soda with the milk and stir in to dry ingredients. Add flour mixture to pumpkin mixture and mix well. <br /><br />2. Add vanilla and chocolate chips.<br /><br />3. Drop by the spoonful on greased cookie sheets and bake at 350 degrees for about 10 minutes or until light brown and firm. <br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPE-xiX-UzKnvi2-SC-hf1qb_FeiQpcD4AOC1NeRaKehrR9-8El5yA7UkUxEIcqtrRtAqPYUbNcczWc0KCz9mTkY1xh-ChoAJuWiYk1xXAKcgtCdVkNYjxjzJnfjnO80A7PaNViQ/s1600-h/IMG_5247.JPG"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPE-xiX-UzKnvi2-SC-hf1qb_FeiQpcD4AOC1NeRaKehrR9-8El5yA7UkUxEIcqtrRtAqPYUbNcczWc0KCz9mTkY1xh-ChoAJuWiYk1xXAKcgtCdVkNYjxjzJnfjnO80A7PaNViQ/s320/IMG_5247.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5131429657000012386" /></a><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWeOLes_BYwttXKgRrX6r2BCKF_gjgEWtirK9Po5OEEi9BpzTB0boSDgUGlhXbT921CJ1FFbN_otRjLai459KXOereMUMpApuFxtxKBGHH9kN8_f84fUHs3Uo4o2ZE_XtvwtaXEQ/s1600-h/IMG_5262.JPG"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWeOLes_BYwttXKgRrX6r2BCKF_gjgEWtirK9Po5OEEi9BpzTB0boSDgUGlhXbT921CJ1FFbN_otRjLai459KXOereMUMpApuFxtxKBGHH9kN8_f84fUHs3Uo4o2ZE_XtvwtaXEQ/s320/IMG_5262.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5131429837388638834" /></a><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwfryRJziNKaYRD67Q4MRDyxHHreCmW-An3CaR-3gXYAarYxQo0LfxQapPHVXqvzISRG2RNY-2M1MMGChlomY-pMpviikIrs8zmsgfdfFTIiniDW8prIRgGm_SN1EKFgU36AJGqw/s1600-h/IMG_5292.JPG"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwfryRJziNKaYRD67Q4MRDyxHHreCmW-An3CaR-3gXYAarYxQo0LfxQapPHVXqvzISRG2RNY-2M1MMGChlomY-pMpviikIrs8zmsgfdfFTIiniDW8prIRgGm_SN1EKFgU36AJGqw/s200/IMG_5292.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5131430490223667858" /></a><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEux18FF3hpkgdPLadmHryGM4dqgUNdyJs1W3IgmM2mK_c_YQpskl1Kwxin2Lv_jYPOWQGt9AyLPfgZwxU0NM374EwEtQ1xlq6JA0Bhc_-DpH_iHhLe5xg-D969u-unRprAIbBzA/s1600-h/IMG_5293.JPG"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEux18FF3hpkgdPLadmHryGM4dqgUNdyJs1W3IgmM2mK_c_YQpskl1Kwxin2Lv_jYPOWQGt9AyLPfgZwxU0NM374EwEtQ1xlq6JA0Bhc_-DpH_iHhLe5xg-D969u-unRprAIbBzA/s200/IMG_5293.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5131430717856934562" /></a><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_b5yTo7kzsPdAsBv-Kj5gKWYi1Vthjjlys5CCPYLU6qUWENgtpgQ5NGdqrhz3zBqwH41e-rjdcbplz3l1f20VxrHrLpJXFeIykc1di5XRVHaidHxJzZlHcit3mEL4xjxhvYMAYg/s1600-h/IMG_5294.JPG"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_b5yTo7kzsPdAsBv-Kj5gKWYi1Vthjjlys5CCPYLU6qUWENgtpgQ5NGdqrhz3zBqwH41e-rjdcbplz3l1f20VxrHrLpJXFeIykc1di5XRVHaidHxJzZlHcit3mEL4xjxhvYMAYg/s200/IMG_5294.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5131430958375103154" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />At the end of the night, the last of us still standing played Scrabble to the death. And then there was some daddy and baby bonding. <br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEib6Ks1LW9aP2SgnSlUNDpuPUeLcgYUwC3ex3A_9pv0WbBUadwe-v7a1JrGHIF2q0C7ctGKnQZlcgElCPfdlao6xtm-UA5r5sQQOjk80DUXeK7lkg8CXUYLnqDYoNELDVVC_4_9Vg/s1600-h/IMG_5317.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEib6Ks1LW9aP2SgnSlUNDpuPUeLcgYUwC3ex3A_9pv0WbBUadwe-v7a1JrGHIF2q0C7ctGKnQZlcgElCPfdlao6xtm-UA5r5sQQOjk80DUXeK7lkg8CXUYLnqDYoNELDVVC_4_9Vg/s320/IMG_5317.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5131431250432879298" /></a>nicolehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04622280026772505067noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24943941.post-26622621593038573212007-11-06T13:14:00.000-08:002007-11-06T13:28:54.403-08:00Time to get learned real quickTripp, my wonderful, media savvy husband found this website that is absolutely fantastic. It's called <a href="http://glassbooth.org/gbapp/index.php/Topic">Glassbooth Election 2008</a>. It's designed to tell you what candidates you most closely align with based on your views and opinions on certain political hot topics. <br /><br />It takes about five minutes, you respond to a few questions about political issues and how you feel about them, the site then compares all of your responses to those of all the candidates running, and I mean <span style="font-style:italic;">all</span> the candidates, not just Clinton, Obama, and Giuliani. The site will list the three candidates your views most closely align with and then gives you a brief description of the candidates. It even explains how your view points differ from the candidates you align with! It does all the research for you! The greatest thing since chocolate and cappuccinos. Really. <br /><br />For fun Tripp answered the questions a second time but chose the most conservative, redneck, right wing answers he could and got his top three candidates, Mitt Romney being one of them. I thought that guy was Mormon, not evil? Take the <a href="http://glassbooth.org/gbapp/index.php/Topic">quiz</a> see who you line up with, get yourself edumacated, and post a comment with your top 3 candidates! I won't hold it against you if Mitt Romney is one of them.nicolehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04622280026772505067noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24943941.post-16190336290274937152007-11-01T14:30:00.000-07:002007-11-02T07:14:18.123-07:00Babies and Free RiceUpdate - I am a bad, bad blogger. No updates for all this time! It's not that I don't have things to say, those of you who know me in the real world know that I'm full of opinions and have no qualms spouting them at unwilling listeners. <br /><br />It's just, I get busy, and lazy. <br /><br />So here's a baby update: I had my latest appointment on Monday, gained 3 more pounds, for a total of 14lbs. so far. Not too bad. Belly is measuring right on target and baby's heart sounds good. Baby happens to be laying across my tummy from left to right and when he or she kicks it now feels like the baby is pretty much in my back. I would very much like for baby to rotate and stop kicking me in the ribs, but I, for once, don't get to be the boss. A rare situation indeed. Also, I didn't quite fail my glucose test, but I didn't pass with flying colors either. Any score over 130 means you fail the test, and I got a 130 exactly. Soooo, I'm supposed to avoid simple sugars, no white bread, white rice, or fruit juice. I have a feeling I may have scored so high because of my new found love of grapefruit juice. <br /><br />On to other news, my friend T-Funk sent me the link to the <a href="http://www.freerice.com/index.php">FreeRice</a> website which I had never heard of but absolutely love! I'm now officially an addict. I'm a vocabulary learning machine, and my addiction happens to send rice to impoverished nations. It's better than my caffeine habit, that just sends money to a bunch of Starbucks CEOs. And they are so not starving. Go forth and improve your vocabulary and help alleviate hunger!nicolehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04622280026772505067noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24943941.post-61299133941013445892007-10-15T16:22:00.000-07:002008-12-09T02:12:19.795-08:00Italia Vacanza!We put our deposit down on the villa we'll be staying in when we go to Venice/Florence/Tuscany! I'm so excited but I'm gonna need to calm down seeing as the trip isn't for another year (December 08) it could seriously ware a sister out to be perpetually excited for a year. We'll be going with 8 other people that we don't know very well which means things could get exciting. I'm mostly looking forward to the food and drink, and I don't think any potentially weird folks can really ruin a true Italian meal. Yum!<br /><br />Depending on the temperament on the of the little monkey baby he or she may be visiting Italy too. If baby takes after mother and is a cranky whiny brat baby will probably stay with one of his/her many, many grandmas. If, however, baby is more content and peaceful like the old man, the little monkey will be coming with us. A world traveler before he/she is even one! My baby is going to be the coolest. Seriously.<br /><br />The only issue, is that if baby does come with us I'll have to get the baby vaccinated before we go. Our plan has been to wait till baby is about two to start getting the vaccines done to avoid any potential links between vaccines and autism. I know it hasn't been 100% proven that vaccines cause autism, but I figured it can't hurt to wait till baby is a little bigger. Buuuuut, if we go to Europe it will be safer for baby to get shots, so, it's a compromise we'll have to consider. We shall see! <br /><br />Here is the awesome <br /><a href="http://www.luxuryretreats.com/villa-page/ind/108265.aspvilla">villa</a> we'll be staying in.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6A9UbsEO5hEWhNzxVK_jrmTNaavLuULgqtgLBRzIQGwevweON80a2wWzD8i_j3sY5tOdiXWxxQd41VbrErQJWRK5Skp0gkqaRmyMTyGdZSD8cJZPxtexjZq4LrGMcR7huFFMK3g/s1600-h/cappuccino.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6A9UbsEO5hEWhNzxVK_jrmTNaavLuULgqtgLBRzIQGwevweON80a2wWzD8i_j3sY5tOdiXWxxQd41VbrErQJWRK5Skp0gkqaRmyMTyGdZSD8cJZPxtexjZq4LrGMcR7huFFMK3g/s400/cappuccino.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5121713575693251042" /></a><br /><br />Mmmmmm, Italy.nicolehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04622280026772505067noreply@blogger.com1