Holiday spirit? Or pity?

I woke this morning at 2:45 for a typical bathroom break. As baby gets bigger, my bladder has less room to spare. But instead of slipping back into sleep like normal, I found myself wide awake. For hours. I tried every position and relaxing thought but nothing worked. I only scraped together maybe another hour-and-a-half of sleep.

So this morning I stopped by Starbucks for a much-needed cup of decaf. I hoped that just that smidgen of caffeine would help keep my eyes open a little longer. One decaf non-fat peppermint mocha later, I began backing up the Jeep. Then, THUD. A little black Camry had parked illegally behind me, and I hadn't given it wide enough berth.

I pulled back into my parking spot and got out to look at the damage. A paint scratch on the Camry, with the Jeep sporting a crack in the paint on the bumper. Shit. Shit. Shit. I found a sheet of paper and wrote down my insurance information, waiting for the car's owner to return.

Someone must have gone into Starbucks and mentioned the fender-bender, because a cute young girl popped her head out and eyed her car.

"Is that your black car?" I asked. "Because I just bumped it. I'm so, so sorry--I scratched some of your paint. With this silly stomach I can barely turn around and I didn't give your car enough room. I've written out all my insurance information. I'm so sorry!"

Maintaining the most pleasant demeanor, she walked over to look at her bumper. "Don't worry about it!" she said. "It's nothing!"

"No. There’s a scratch and it's all my fault. Please, I've all my information, please take it."

"You've bigger things to worry about," she responded, motioning to my bulging belly. She smiled, shook her head at my offered paper, and turned around and walked back into Starbucks.

Stunned, I got into my car and began to cry. God bless that sweet girl. Whether holiday spirit or pity on how pathetic I must have appeared, she gave me a break on a day when I really needed it. May we all keep that attitude this season!

Just another holiday weekend

Was at the Emergency Vet's till 11:30 last night because there was blood in Cassie's urine. It seems she has a very nasty UTI and we need to be on the lookout for kidney stones. Poor thing. And poor me, who almost fell asleep in the waiting room.

Then we slug it home only to find a beheaded mouse in our office. Ketchum, it appears, has been doing his job.

So a $200 vet bill and mice. The Banker looked at me and in uncharacteristic calm laughed, "If it's not one thing, it's another."

We've been focusing on the saying: Plenty to think about, nothing to worry about. Maybe it's slowly taking hold?

So ill-prepared

Friday marked the 24th week of pregnancy, or six full months. And everyone in the family agrees that the time has gone by so quickly. I agree and disagree with this assessment--in many ways it's gone fast but there's still so much time to go.

And I'm going to need every bit of those four months. The Banker and I haven't had any success finding a nursery set--every set we love and ask to order has been discontinued. It seems the end of the year is the time for companies to dump their designs in preparation for the rollout of new design lines. Except those new lines don't roll out until late January--even later for some companies--which doesn't leave the requisite two months for ordering and shipping that we'd need. So we're torn between settling for a set that can get here before March or waiting to see what the new designs have to offer, even if it means a delivery date far after the little one arrives. (Which is not as drastic as it sounds, since the first few months the baby will be in our room in a pack-and-play or bassinet.)

And the whole registry thing? Nope. Not done that, either. Registering for baby items is a far cry from registering for a wedding. When you marry, you like the looks of something, you zap it into the registry. But baby items come with all sorts of inherent responsibilities and fears. Is it safe? Is it of the highest quality? Will it help in the baby's development? Is it necessary? And the ever-important: Will the baby even like it or will it only serve to piss off that little one?

To be honest, I'm not even sure where to begin. I've talked with a few moms and purchased a book, but still doubt I'm ready to enter the mammoth halls of Babies R Us. So I welcome any advice on the can't-miss items that simply must be on our registry. Please. I don't think I can avoid this anymore!

Hmmm...

You Belong in London

A little old fashioned, and a little modern. A little traditional, and a little bit punk rock. A unique woman like you needs a city that offers everything. No wonder you and London will get along so well.

What City Do You Belong In?

Stupid people

In my (relatively) short tenure as a pregnant woman, I've been repeatedly shocked by what people feel they can say or do to those who're expecting or have newborns.

Just yesterday The Banker and I were in the doctor's waiting room (for 45 minutes!!) and I watched as a young mom settled in a chair with her newborn in a carrier at her feet. An older, tackily attired woman across the way began to make conversation with the young mom, peppering her with questions that ranged from, "What's her name?" and "How old is she?" to more personal assaults that included, "Will you be returning to work or do you get to stay at home?"

The young woman looked exhausted--she had an infant, who wouldn't be?--but she weathered the onslaught kindly. The questioning continued for well over half an hour. At one point the older woman got up from her seat across the way and sat down in the seat next to the new mom, even though there was a diaper bag there.

And then I heard the line of questioning that almost made me scream. I didn't quite catch the first question, but the mom's response was unmistakable: "Her father and I broke up when I was six months along." That stupid cow! I couldn't believe she'd asked such an incredibly personal question. But rather than be ashamed, she continued on, asking, "Has he been in contact with the baby?" I watched the mom shake her head in an exhausted "no."

I wanted to jump in. I wanted to save the new mom from the terrible questions, but I didn't want to make a scene and further embarrass her. So I did nothing but sit there and fume. I imagined throttling the big-haired idiot in her too-tight culottes.

While I've never had to endure such extended torture, I've been on the receiving end of several idiotic comments from coworkers.
Are you sure you're only that far along? You look bigger than that.
Wow! How can you possibly get any larger?
Whoa! Those things have gotten really big!

Don't know exactly what to say to a new mom or mom-to-be? Here's a clue for the clueless:
* Don't mention my size. Tell me I look good, even if I'm not going to believe you.
* Don't ask if I'm coming back to work. I don't know yet and that's no shortage of stress for me. Plus, it's probably none of your damn business.
* Don't ask if I'm breastfeeding. Unless I whip out a nipple and offer you a drink, consider that a private matter.
* Don't assume there's a partner involved unless I mention one. Single parenting is tough enough without nosey assholes.
* Say POSITIVE things about me, the child, the world at large. There's enough stress and fear going around--don't spread more shit.
* If you're a stranger, don't ask 20 questions. In fact, limit yourself to two. Then back off. New moms are probably appreciating the short-lived calm. Don't fuck it up.
* If you're a stranger, don't touch me or new little ones without express written permission, a drug test, and a 10-day waiting period.

I realize that people most often have the best of intentions. I really do. But some common courtesy, respect for personal space, and thinking before speaking isn't too much to ask. Or at least, I hope not!

Secrets, secrets

One of my nearest and dearest friends has been hiding a secret from me.

For twelve long weeks.

Yup, it seems that my best friend is expecting her second child and is only a mere two months behind me in terms of due dates. Her big day? May 13, or Mother's Day. How she managed to keep the secret so long, I'll never know. She already has a red-headed munchkin who's not even 2 yet. And I thought my hands were going to be full!

So even though she's not a blog reader, I just have to say, Congrats Jess!!