Testing - Video

Getting There, and Daily Minutiae

Today I pulled out Kyle's newborn clothes. So the Peanut has some stuff to wear. We have about 40 millions bibs and receiving blankets (so take note, possible gift-givers). I held up a sleeper for Stewart to see. He said "Wow, that's a small kid." It's hard to believe Kyle ever fit into, or was too small for, some of these clothes.

I went to the spa today for some...ahem...grooming. It was a long time coming. Of course, with my added girth, it was rather acrobatic, and I came home to a nice unhealthy lunch and my daily fix of "A Baby Story." Then I fell asleep. Then I rearranged all the books in our house and made a giant overflowing box of donatables. Now I'm out of breath and I need another nap. Only 70 minutes until Kyle comes home! Better do it now. Nesting is exhausting.

A Great Shot

Soon I Will Have "Kids"

I just spent over an hour reading my emails and going through my blogrolls. I have two. The one that is on my sidebar to the left and the one in my bookmarks section. My sidebar needs to be updated desperately but I just haven't gotten around to it. So if you know that I read your site and I haven't linked to you yet, I will. Someday soon.

One thing I HAVE gotten around to is finally tackling the closet in the hallway. It's the last frontier of my decluttering project, and I've been saving it for last. Okay, I've just been avoiding it. Because it contains much in the way of sentimental keepsakes that serve no function besides light reminiscing and taking up space. I need the space to house more important things like work materials, sleeping bags for all that camping we do, and Christmas supplies that we use once a year (the candles that would melt in the garage).

Almost daily I open those closet doors and stand there and stare at the contents for a few minutes. Then I close the doors and walk away, thinking "I'll get to it when I have more time." Yesterday after my doctor's appointment I had nothing but time. Plus the doctor lit a fire under me with an offhand comment that I might have to be induced early because my baby is getting so big.

Um...what?!

After a totally routine appointment - good BP, good weight, good measurements, good urine - we were walking to the front desk and he said I might think about getting things going early. I told him absolutely, I'm in. As long as it's after April 15 (I'll be 39 weeks and my dad arrives that day to be here for Kyle). He gave me a stern look and said "Well, we'll see. We don't want this baby getting too big."

But! But!

Okay, so I'm not going to panic. Overall I trust his judgement and I think that whatever is in the baby's best interest is the right thing to do. However:

-I don't want to have the baby until AFTER Kyle's birthday (April 10)
-I don't want to have the baby until AFTER April 15 (to have coverage for Kyle)
-I don't want to have one of those inductions that turns into a C-section because my body is not ready to give birth.
-Dude, the doctor doesn't know how big the baby is! He didn't even feel around in there yesterday! Next week we'll know more. I'm just glad Stewart is on spring break so he can come with me and witness whatever goes down.

Needless to say, part of the closet-rearranging yesterday involved hauling out the newborn clothes, the Boppy, the baby monitor, etc. I guess I should kick it up a notch. But first I'm going to JC Penney's sweet sale - the one with the chocolate bars - to continue my search for new bedding for the guest bed. Nice life, huh?

Tales From the Potty

My latest article is up at The Mommy Times. It's about how Stewart and I are so used to the smell of poo around our house that we're in no rush to get Kyle potty trained.

Dammit, I Have to Go To Target AGAIN!

This is my first week of "maternity leave." Since I am not working and Kyle is in daycare full time, I am finally able to sort out my thoughts and rest a bit, so I feel much, much better. I don't have to drive like a banshee to pick Kyle up at the end of the day, and I am trying to make sure I take naps, so I have more more energy to devote to him in the mornings and evenings.


One disadvantage of the new shape of my belly is that regular maternity shirts do not cover it anymore. It sticks out too far! I like to hang out in my under-the-belly maternity pants and maternity t-shirts, long or short sleeved. Only one of them is long enough to cover my belly and it was $10 from Target. I'm headed over there in a bit to get at least one more, considering I have a scheduled 3 weeks and 5 days more of being pregnant.

I'm also going to look for some new bedding for the baby's room (unless you all think I should pressure my mom to make a queen-sized quilt) and a pair of lamps for the top of the big bookcase in the living room. We have no overhead lighting in there, and my parents always complain that they need light to read by when they visit. Since they'll be here for an overlapping total of 4 weeks taking care of me and my family, I think it's time to hook them up.

And who knows what other adventures await one when one goes to Target?

An aside: I have Oprah on right now and she is running a little story about a pastor who is trying to get people to stop complaining. In general. I always think that about myself, because I feel like all I do is complain. Is Oprah talking to ME?

I'm Not Internationally Known, But I'm Known To Rock the Microphone

I have proof that folding laundry and putting it away is a lot more fun when you are listening to scratchy old mix tapes of '80s music. *

Oh, and here's a better picture of Kyle's new haircut.

*It does nothing for cleaning up cat puke, however.

36 Weeks

Compare to the same shot with Kyle inside.

Latest Haircut

Kyle needs his haircut every 6 to 8 weeks. Actually that's pushing it. He's been pretty shaggy lately, but bringing him to the barber is an excruciatingly painful experience, so we put it off. He sits in our lap and screams the screams of the damned during the entire haircut. The poor bartender. This time Stewart brought him to someone new, who reportedly worked on Kyle for 30 minutes and used 3 different razors to get his hair short enough, all the while enduring the tortured cries of the child. Thank goodness I got to stay home for this one.

We went to a birthday party today and I took a lot of pictures, but I wasn't really concentrating on getting a good shot of Kyle's haircut. This is the best I can show you. It was a soccer themed party and there were lots of little soccer balls to kick. Kyle's not one to kick a ball (or swing a bat, apparently - hHe just likes to smash things with it) so Stewart was trying to show him how by using his entire body as a Foosball player:

To Anyone Who's Ever Written Me a Letter:

I've saved them. All of them. All these years. And I have to apologize to you because today, I threw them out.

There is a file box that is always in my possession that housed hundreds of letters and birthday and Easter and St. Patrick's Day and Christmas and Thanksgiving cards. And birth announcements and newspaper clippings and random photos and calendars for God's sake. I held on to all of these things for purely sentimental reasons. They are from family, friends, acquaintances, former co-workers and bosses, old boyfriends, old flings.

In the madness of my de-cluttering, I decided to let them go.

I just took me almost the entire length of Kyle's nap to go through that box. I decided to continue saving certain priceless things - letters and cards from my grandparents, cards for Kyle, correspondence from Stewart (and for Stewart - I can't decide for him what to throw away). I saved the random photos because those can go in the albums I will make someday when I tackle similarly the Great Photo Archiving Project of All Time. I saved printed emails that were just really well written. I saved the yearbook from my senior year of high school but I'm throwing away the first three.

Okay, so here's a sampling of what I threw away:

All love letters from ex-boyfriends. I read once somewhere that you should keep old love letters and throw away old bills. That's a very nice thought, but in the last year I have learned that doing so is a big mistake. Keep the old bills because you might get audited. Throw away the love letters because they're embarrassing. Plus they take up much-needed storage space. They're sweet, but they're old and outdated. Like 18 years old.

A giant stack of birthday cards. Have I really had that many birthdays?

The obituary of my suicidal friend, which I wrote and submitted. I decided I will remember her and I don't need her obituary making me sad. It's taken several years but I'm not as mad at her as I was at first.

A giant stack of tortured poetry from my youth (and several rejection letters from The New Yorker!). And some journaling that was not kept in a journal. Honestly, if I got sick and Stewart had to handle my affairs and he found all this stuff while looking through my records, I'd really be mortified. (Side note, Stewart never goes through the officey stuff. He doesn't even know what we have. Conversely, I have gone through every single piece of paper in this house, and I know all of his secrets. One time I found headgear in a little case - you know, the headgear that used to come with braces and make one look like a walking antenna? I was sort of horrified for him, but when I asked him about it, he told me that it was his old roommate's. I believed him.)

My "acting" portfolio. HAHAHAHAHAHA.

Four calendars and a pile of Franklin Planner pages from 1996. What on earth was I thinking keeping these things?

I'm going to put surveillance on our garbage and recycling cans until they're picked up Sunday morning, so don't even think about coming over to snag these things and blackmail me.

HOP Movie Review: "Invincible"

This movie is a love story about a bartender whose wife dumps him because he's a loser. Then he meets another bartender who is female and cute and blond. The two spend the rest of the movie saying "I like you, but I'm scared" back and forth until they finally kiss, and then they live happily ever after.

There's a B story about how the guy bartender becomes a walk-on for the Philadelphia Eagles. It's based on the true story of Vince Papalle, who tried out for the Eagles as a 30-year-old rookie and made the team in the late '70's, when Philadelphia was generally down and out, based on the bleak colors and scenes that set the movie up at the beginning. Lots of people were out of work, giant factories and mills were closing, and old rusty trucks were everywhere. It must have been cold that winter - you can tell because of the digital snow.

Okay, so it's mostly about the football. I will admit that if one suspends disbelief, the way you're supposed to when you watch a movie, the film was enjoyable and uplifting the way all of those underdog sports movies are. I usually don't choose sports movies, but when forced to watch them I usually enjoy them. Even the boxing movies which are harder to watch because they're so bloody. And then there was "Million Dollar Baby," which I saw before there was any buzz about the surprise ending. Boy was I pissed.

But I digress.

"Invincible" couldn't really choose what kind of movie it was. As a sports movie, it was shallow. Lots of emphasis was placed on the bone-crunching hits Papalle took as a special teams player. Sound effects and slow-motion prove that he took some big ones. So I get it - it's more about Papalle's struggle as a symbol for the Eagles' struggle to get back in the game.

But they kept bringing back the lame love story. Every other scene was about Vince trying to woo the cute new bartender. First of all, there was no chemistry between Mark Wahlberg, who plays Vince, and Elizabeth Banks, who plays Janet. The filmmakers tried to make her sexy with her arcane knowledge of NFL history, but she merely came off as an idiot savant. Secondly, cutting back to this lukewarm story hurt the flow of the film, and became way too predictable.

The title of the film is "Invincible" which makes you think that Papalle is supposed to be portrayed as such. But Wahlberg plays the character like a drowning man who is simply trying to survive. He's shy, nervous, and terrified during the football scenes. It seems like he only succeeds because he's trying to get away from the big scary tackles. He gets hit over and over again and it really looks like he'll stay down. Yes, he keeps getting up again, but he doesn't act invincible, or plucky, or determined. He just looks tired, as if he's thinking "how much time is left?"

So we watched the bonus material, which we never do, because we wanted to see what the true story was. According to the overly long documentary about the film, Papalle was a nutty guy, regarded by his Eagles' teammates as "crazy," in that he would scurry down the field on punt and kickoff returns to smash the guy with the ball. He got hit over and over and over, but he would bounce right back, ready to do it again. He was lively and outgoing and he recalls his reaction to the news that he made the team as "I went completely bonkers." In the movie, Wahlberg merely gives a wan smile, like he's happy that he finally farted because that gas was trapped in there for so long.

Because I started my career making such featurettes, I have to say that it's annoying that a) the executive producer of the movie looks like he's 25 years old and b) they did a great job of telling Papalle's backstory but then they launch into the development of the film and it gets all Hollywood - "Such and such producer called his buddy who has a deal at Disney and blah blah blah and then there we were on set." YAWN. That part, I thought, was so unnecessary. I also kept wondering how on earth they got the permission to use all of that old NFL footage. That must have been a clearance nightmare.

I like movies. I want to enjoy them. When I was attending movie junkets and interviewing cast and crew I went to several screenings a week. When the house lights go down and the film starts, I sit there expectantly, inviting the film to please me. "Invincible" actually did the job, but the problem was that I kept thinking about it afterward, and came up with all of the above complaints. I wouldn't NOT recommend this film. It's lighthearted fare with a happy ending, and Mark Wahlberg is still pretty hot, even with his bad '70's hair. That's something.

Nesting

Breakfast Cereal Review:

Fruity Cheerios: I tried these because I had a coupon. I don't normally do that - usually I clip coupons for the products I already use. But I was intrigued by Fruity Cheerios because I thought it might have just a touch of sweetness, like Honey Nut Cheerios, which rule. I have been duped by Cheerios before - hello, disgusting Yogurt Cheerios - so I was wary. And I had good reason to be. Fruity Cheerios go way over the top with the sugar, in such a way that you really just want to toss your bowl aside and reach for the Froot Loops or the Trix. Don't try to tell me I'm eating a healthy cereal that tastes great. There's no point in indulging if you're not going to go all the way. Fruity Cheerios has a weird aftertaste, too. Bleah. Don't bother with this one.

---

Now the rest of today's story.

Yesterday I had cramps from 1:15 to 4:15 pretty steadily, then off and on until I feel asleep after 10pm. They didn't feel like contractions so I wasn't really alarmed. But during my nightly wakings they got me thinking what if? So this morning I had Stewart haul some boxes down from the rafters in the garage and I've been washing, scrubbing, and disinfecting the infant car seats, (we have 2) the bouncy seat, and the swing. All the essentials hardware for having a newborn in the house. Next week I'll get out the breast pump and make sure everything's clean and shiny because I just can't wait to put vacuum pressure on my nipples. Hooray!

Found Art In My Backyard

TV Review: American Idol

I'm not going to break down my reactions to the performers last night. Lots of other blogs do it and I can't compete with them. (I'll just say that of the 11, Stewart and I decided Jordin was the total package last night.) Instead, I'd like to offer

AN OPEN LETTER TO THE STAGE DIRECTOR OF AMERICAN IDOL:

Dear Sir or Madam:

What's with the nutty camera angles and all of the quick cutting? And the oh-so-many swooping jib shots? Are you trying to hide something? This is not a Baz Luhrman movie. This is a "singing competition" and many print reviewers have recently noted that the experience of watching AI from the actual audience is so much more powerful than watching it on TV. Can't you relax a little bit with the cutting and try to replicate that experience for the millions who do not fit into your stage at CBS? It was impossible to concentrate on the sound of the performances while I was concentrating on keeping my eyeballs steady. Plus, I'd really like to see what I'm looking at, but you just kept cutting away.

And honestly, did you HAVE to keep cutting to the sobbing 12-year-old in the audience? Please. What if she had a "condition" or something? That was sensationalistic. Even for you.

Sincerely,

KTP

HOP New Feature: - Movie Review: The Last King of Scotland

I did not fully engage in this movie, because from what I've read and the one clip I saw (during the Oscars when they were reviewing the Best Male Actor category) it seemed pretty intense and somewhat violent. And I've written before about how sensitive I am to such media in the years since Kyle was born. But also, I have been thinking lately that I need to get over myself and not miss out on all of these fantastic books and movies that people have been recommending. Maybe I don't have to skip them altogether - maybe I can just take them in small doses and keep reminding myself "this is fiction, this is fiction" over and over.

Except this movie wasn't totally fiction, and the reality behind the story is that approximately 300,000 people were killed during the reign of Idi Amin. So says the text at the end of the film.

But ha! I got to the end of the film so now you know I actually watched it. But when I say I didn't fully engage, I mean that during most of the movie I was blogging or reading blogs, or cleaning the kitchen, or reading "Brain, Child" while eating Cookies 'n Cream ice cream, or going to the bathroom and changing into my pajamas, or cutting coupons. I would check in on the film now and then enough to get the gist of what was going on. Of COURSE I was watching during the most grisly part (if you have seen the movie you know that I'm talking about the thing that made the guy puke) and of COURSE I keep thinking about it today, but my mantra "this is fiction" is actually working because how did the filmmakers know that that's what actually happened? Right?

So here's what I, in my limited viewing of the movie, think of "The Last King of Scotland:"

Forrest Whitaker is one kickass actor. I actually met him once, in a bar at a birthday party, and he was the most gentle, soft-spoken, nicely nice person in person. So that's some damn good acting, I say. His character was CRAAZY.

I was right when I said that the movie was fraught with tension. The whole time you are watching it you feel like some bad stuff is going to go down during the very next second. When the bad stuff does go down, you think it's going to get worse during the very next second. Yikes. It's like a long version of The Shield, which I totally can't watch anymore.

Also, the whole time you watch it you're like "did this really happen? Is this really true? Did this doctor guy really exist? I didn't even know that Idi Amin was the head of Uganda. It's a good thing they have exposition in the film, because it could have been any African country for all I knew. I know that admitting these things makes me look like one of those stupid Americans that Jay Leno polls on the streets outside his studio to see if the average American knows the names of the first five presidents and none of them get that right, but hey, I'm just being honest here.

Overall, I'd say it was a good story, excellent acting, and kudos to the makeup people who managed to make everyone look appropriately sweaty through the whole thing. Lighthearted fare it was not.

Stay tuned for whatever we pull out of the cabinet next.

DVD's: HANDLED.

Thanks for all of your comments about my mess under the TV. I followed all the advice...except for putting a lock on the door. It is wonderful to see what we actually have. No need for Netflix yet. The wire cubes hold home movies, some workout tapes, some kids' stuff, and a few movies that we will toss as soon as we watch. They are dark, but the black cases to the right are the DVD binders that now house our many children's DVD's and several seasons of TV shows and some boxed movie sets. The DVD's along the top of the cubes and along the bottom left have never been watched. I have them there in alphabetical order. We don't hang on to movies after we watch them, unless we REALLY love them (like, for some reason, the way Stew LOVES "The Life Aquatic), so I'm not putting those in binders unless they are really good.

I counted about 200 DVD's, but that was a low number because a lot of them were 2-disc sets and more. Stewart and I do not buy these movies/tv shows. They are given to us as gifts, sent to me as screeners because I belong to a professional Hollywood association, or given to me by a friend who works at a movie studio. Sometimes I get really good titles, but sometimes there's a clunker or two thrown in there.

It's amazing how much space all the fancy packaging takes up. I filled two kitchen garbage bags with the DVD covers, cases, boxes, and sleeves. The project took me most of the day, including the trips to Target and Best Buy. I'm exhausted, but I'm now sort of watching "The Last King of Scotland" with Stew. So far it's sweaty and fraught with tension. I think I'll post reviews of all these movies as we watch them. I know you just can't wait to see what I think of "Confessions of a Teenage Drama Queen."

The Peanut's Room

This is how it looks right now. Basically, it's a guest bedroom with a changing table/dresser combo and a crib mattress in it. I am planning to change the bed linens to something that has blue in it and add some nautical art and knick knackage. Note the new quilt that is draped over the crib mattress (the crib will be assembled after we summon up the balls to figure out how to do it: it's a very complicated-looking wrought iron contraption we borrowed from friends).

Decluttering: Please Help!

This is our DVD and VHS collections. Every few months I swear I'm going to organize it and stack it in such a way that you can actually see what we have. But I wind up dumping stuff in there to get it out of the way when people come over.

The problem is, this is just the plain, boxy cabinet under the TV. I haven't seen any product yet that strikes me as perfect to put in there to organize this stuff. Do you any of you know of one? Keep in mind I want to keep these items in that cabinet.

Anyone? Mom Underground? Bueller?

Babies, Babies, Everywhere!

Gah! S. just had her baby about an hour ago - a little boy named Dashiell, 7lb. 12 oz. I have to go to work today, otherwise I would race down through the mean streets of LA to see him.

I have another friend who is due next week. This is so exciting!

Idyll - UPDATED***

This is the time that I love. It's one of my 2 days a week off, and the boys have left the house, and I cleaned up the kitchen and started a load of laundry. I have a good list of things to accomplish today, but before I even take a shower, I sit down to relish the peace and quiet.

(Pause to scream at unruly animals.)

I no longer have A Room of My Own. The office setup is now well ensconced in my new armoire, stationed in what I think of as "Mom's Corner." It's going to take some getting used to. Whenever I pass by the "baby's room" I have an internal urge to swing in there to check my email.

His room still looks like a guest room. The only baby thing in it is the changing table/dresser, and a pile of gifts from Sunday. Incidentally, two of my friends gave me the gdiapers starter kits, which I am so excited about. Stewart remains skeptical. He thinks the mess will clog the toilets. I at least want to try. I'll wait until I know they work before I get any more.

Speaking of gDiapers, my friend S. is planning on trying them as well. As far as I know she has not yet gone into labor. If you are following along, this is the same friend who was experiencing contractions last week. Well, she actually made it to the shower on Sunday, with her husband in tow as her "just in case I go into labor" escort. She is one in a list of 5 women I know, including myself, who are pregnant. That's half the number of pregnant women I was among last time. In my virtual world, I think Mama Waterhouse is having or has had her baby. I keep checking for updates but she hasn't blogged in 4 days so I think it's happening.

When I was pregnant with Kyle I had a seemingly endless string of days to fill in the 2 months before he was born. I stopped working on February 4th and he was born April 10. Luckily, I had the home remodel project which kept me very busy. This time, I have the home declutter project which keeps me busy but weighs upon me with its dreadfulness. I feel like I am always decluttering, and as soon as I move some things out of here, others come to take their places. I watched an episode of Oprah the other night, in which the guest was some guy from Clean Sweep, and he helped a couple clear out their incredibly ridiculously cluttered house (they have 4 kids and were DROWNING in stuff). I learned 2 things from him: things are just things. If you are keeping something because of an emotional attachment and it's filling up your space, you can get rid of it and still have the fond memory that you associate with it. Also, when you are going through your clutter and deciding to keep, toss, or donate, if you hesitate on your decision on an item for even one second, then you must get rid of it.

So, slowly but surely I am moving through our clutter, making room for the baby and the clutter that will accompany him. Having these days off with Kyle out of the house makes it so much easier, plus it puts pressure on me to get certain things done by the time I have to pick him up. I work in the baby's room and in the hallway where the closets are in silence. I had planned to rock out to my remaining 80's mixes on cassette, and then toss those as I listen to each one. But the quiet is so precious that I haven't yet been moved to pull out the boom box!

***Updated to add:
Kate Waterhouse had her baby over the weekend! Go over and wish her some congratulations!!

***Updated again to add:
S. just called me a few minutes ago from the hospital! She went in for an OB checkup and had a contraction in the elevator, so two nurses "manhandled" her to Labor and Delivery instead. She's happily hooked up to monitors and waiting for her labor to progress. !!!!!

Can We Fix It?

It's a long story, but we switched out our kitchen table with our old kitchen table, and we Freecycled the "new" one. But the old table, which was my desk, couldn't fit through the doorway. Thus, the adventures with screwdrivers.

Baby Shower Games

What are we doing in this picture?




a) "So big!"
b) "Touchdown!"
c) Chair exercises
d) Trying not to choke to death

The Boiling Belly

Right now it really looks like my belly is boiling. Lumps and blobs keep poking out, moving around, and then subsided. I guess it's like boiling chocolate. Yum.

I've been unable to post lately because I started working 3 days a week, which means I've been furiously nesting, which means I'm a busy busy bee until I collapse with fatigue. Also, part of the nesting was moving the office to the new "Mom's Corner" which is in our family space, so when I sit down at the computer Kyle immediately notices and will not leave me alone until we're playing Dora's Animal Adventures or spacing out watching the iTunes visualizer. At least that's one way to get him to listen to real music.

Today my boss hosted a lovely little baby shower for me here at the house. It was 90 hundred degrees today and I refused to go outside except for the walk to and from the car when I escaped to get a pedicure this morning. So I have just come up for air and now I'm going to bed. Stay tuned for entertaining photos.

Update

I just updated my profile photo on the left. My mother has been nagging me for months to do it. Today I just felt like it.

Preparation

My dear friend S. is in her 39th week of her first pregnancy at age 40. Yesterday she told me that she's been having contractions on and off for 2 days. She asked me for advice about when to know when she's really in labor, and I couldn't give her any, since with Kyle my water broke and thus began the festivities. I highly recommend this sequence of events, because there was no doubt that it was time to go to the hospital, and also no rush. I got to take a shower, have a little snack, and get everything together (albeit while acting like a crazy madwoman because I was so nervous). By the time the pain was really kicking in, I had my epidural up and running and I was telling all the staff how much I loved their hospital.

Last night I had a good talk with the Peanut. I told him that I would like him to come several days early - both to end my discomfort sooner and to give my dad more time with him on the outside (Dad is coming here on April 15, a week before my due date). I also told him that I would like him to take it easy on me, and could he please just make my water break before I actually have any contractions, like his brother did? I'm sure this will not be the only time I compare him to his brother, which I will try to avoid so I don't give him a complex, but this is really really important. This involves pain and suffering, and he won't really remember, so I thought it would be okay to ask.

He responded by rolling and poking and squirming around inside me while Stew and I watched American Idol. Next time he does that I want to try and video tape it because I am curious to see what it looks like from Stewart's viewpoint. From my perspective it does look pretty weird, but I'm used to it by now. Although last night I clearly saw what looked like a foot shape sliding across my belly before it subsided. That was cool.

Critical Mass

It's week 34 and I have reached the point where the following things are true:

-I simply cannot sleep for more than 4 hours in a row.
-Heartburn is my constant companion.
-I am never fully comfortable.
-I feel like there are TWO cannon balls in my belly. Not just one.
-My feet are swelling at the end of the day.
-I can't wear my wedding/engagement rings anymore. This time it's not because of the weight gain or swelling - it's because my skin is reacting badly to them, so now it looks like I have a fresh pink tattoo of a wedding ring on my finger.
-I am cranky.
-I have to keep reminding myself that I like being pregnant.

Don't I sound fun to be around? I do manage to keep my surliness to myself when I am outside of the house. But here at home my patience has a short limit. Once I got home with Kyle tonight he seemed determined to drive me crazy, which is really a short trip. I blew up at Stewart because he never dresses Kyle in matching pajamas, which caused me to not be able to find a suitable top and bottom at a moment's notice. Then I got upset because my belly is so big now that Kyle cannot comfortably rest on my lap as I rock him to sleep.

Once I got him in his crib I staggered out to the kitchen and said "What are we going to do with TWO kids?" Stewart, who was making dinner (really, he is a saint), said "Well, you won't be pregnant anymore, at least."

---

He drives me crazy, but to his very great benefit, that does not diminish his cuteness at all:

Seattle Poop

I returned from Seattle today a bit refreshed and happy to see Stew and Kyle again. The trip was wonderful - good friends, good food, and a nice big bed in a fancy hotel room. I even treated myself to some spa time.

My friend's restaurant was quite good. About a dozen of us dined last night, starting with a special selection of wines hand-picked to match our dinners by one of the staff sommeliers. I had the crab bisque, which the chef described as "sex on a spoon" (I must object, contending that anything with that description must include chocolate), followed by a scallop dish that also included risotto and asparagus. I was pretty full halfway through the meal, however, considering the real estate that BN2 is taking up in my abdomen. It was amusing to see what everyone else ordered: three of the guys had the WILD BOAR. I'm not kidding.

In all, I had a great time, but I was happy to come home to Stew and Kyle. They had a great time this weekend too because Stewart committed himself to simply taking care of and playing with Kyle. The house wasn't even a mess when I got here! Kyle had all of his limbs still attached and he was even happy.

The best part was that about an hour after I got home, Kyle pooped in the potty. That's right. I said it. He pooped. In. The. Potty.

This kid is just under 23 months old. He was playing outside in the muddy sandbox, when he stood up and looked and me and said "Poop!"

"You have poop?

Nodding. "Yeah."

"Okay, let me check."

No poop in the diaper.

"Do you need to poop?"

"Yeah."

"Let's go poop on the potty!"

"No."

I picked him up and brought him to the potty anyway, grabbing a copy of "Pat the Bunny" on the way. I got him settled and then we read. After two readings, he suddenly got a huge grin on his face and he started laughing as he pooped. It was amazing! We have never even tried to do this with him before. I don't think it's happened at daycare either.

I called Stewart into the bathroom and told him what was going on and there was much rejoicing. Then I left Stewart to clean up the mess while I got Kyle into a fresh diaper. I didn't mind leaving that job to Stewart. He is the one who makes comments like this, after all.

I will admit that this could be a fluke. But I guess I'll go with it, and see if we can repeat this miracle. I'm pretty proud of the little guy.

The Rainy City

If any of you are reading from Seattle, I am here. Actually, I am in Bellevue. So far I am having a wonderfully relaxing time but I've been gone only 24 hours and I miss my boys. Luckily I get to carry one of them with me.

My friend from college recently opened a restaurant in the Hyatt here. It's called 0/8 and The Twisted Cork Wine Bar. About 8 of his college friends have come here from around the the country in a mini-reunion, and to celebrate and have dinner at his new place. I'll give you a review when I get to write again. Right now I am at a standing kiosk in the hotel lobby - nice enough to look something up on the net or check your email, but not so comfortable for extended blogging.

Oh, I also went to Pike's Place Market this morning and shopped and saw the fish flinging or whatever they call it. The whole thing made me want to sit at a cafe with a scarf around my neck, sipping coffee and people watching. But there's no time for that, because I'm leaving again tomorrow.

Okay, now I'm going up to my room for a nap, because I don't have laundry to fold or bills to pay or food to buy or anything else to do until dinner time. Yippee!!!

Me and the Boys

This is how I chase after Kyle now. I sit in a chair and say "No, Kyle, get down. Kyle, sit down. Kyle, be careful. Etc." If he runs out of view, I sigh, haul myself out of the chair, and lumber after him. Usually I have to bribe him with juice or crackers to get him to come back to me.

Interesting comments on Kyle's stinky breath situation. Update: I emailed his doctor, who return the message within 4 minutes (!!!) and said if he doesn't show other signs of illness she will check him at his 2-year appointment which is in 6 weeks. Meanwhile, I have been smelling his breath constantly, and it's actually gotten better. I'll keep sniffing around, though. All I have to do is ask him what sound the letter "H" makes, and he huffs and puffs for me.

33 Weeks. Not so tiny.