Thank goodness

that Husband is an optimist, someone able to look at the positive side of life, because I need it to quell my anxieties.

Me: Oh my God, what if I give birth to a pterodactyl?
Husband: Then we’ll never have to work again.


Just to explain, Baby can move to the point where my shirt ripples mysteriously. It’s kind of like a Lochness Monster sighting, except it’s happens all the time. And while I’m excited by this stage, sometimes I worry about random things, like is he okay, is he dead, or you know, the pterodactyl thing. There’s just a lot of wild movement in my middle right now. Who knows what’s in there? (Yeah, I know, I have sonograms, but STILL.)

J. D. Salinger, Literary Recluse, Dies at 91

You know, for someone who didn’t really like being alive that much, he sure did live a long time. Seriously, this Times article details how his characters reflected who he was — kind of too sensitive for this world, miserable, not really belonging here. While other people put themselves through the ringer with like chemo and radiation to extend their lives to just another couple of months, this dude made it to 91.

Born Round

I read Frank Bruni’s Born Round, because I was drawn to the story of a guy who struggles with his weight. Bruni was chubby from babyhood, ate more than his siblings, and always held his baby sister for the annual Christmas family pic to hide his middle. He went to college, found bulimia, spent years having a twisted relationship with food, and avoiding any situation that would involve taking his clothes off (e.g., dating). Unfortunately, the book was more about his glam reporter life and there was a lot of personal information, but the whole thing felt detached–the thing that struck me about his excerpt of this work in the Times Sunday magazine was his overly complicated relationship with food, which is something I contend with.

So I read the book hoping to find some secret about losing weight. Basically, he starts to make smarter eating choices, hires a trainer, and also learns about portion control, which really is the “right” answer. Totally boring, yet effective and somehow made for a disappointing. It’s not that I believe in a magic answer, but I suppose I was reading to find an exploration on how to set yourself free from thinking about eating or not eating too much all the time.

For me, I had a mini-vacation from this mindset during pregnancy, simply because this pregnancy because my OB uttered the sentence “You are the perfect weight,” which I had never heard in my life! In the first trimester, I think Baby sat on my stomach so my appetite was always small and I had the instinct to eat only healthy food. I was free! And it’s awesome to be mentally relaxed. However, on a more recent visit, my OB advised to try to keep the same weight for a month and lay off the sugar and white flour as I entered my last trimester and as much as I attempted to avoid reacting neurotically, I felt like a total failure.

Since then, I’ve balanced my thinking more. (Thankfully, Husband is sane and can give me supportive advice.) Am mostly eating like a diabetic, which is the healthiest way to eat. I do want the baby to have a spine and all, so I don’t mind, and restricting sugar for someone like me is good because the first trimester spell is broken and my natural food instincts were kicking in (I can easily eat candy instead of real food all day.)

So while I’m no longer mental about the eating/size thing (um, for the time being), I do think about it…and I would love one day to give it a rest.

urban outfitters

What’s sadder than me shopping at my favorite store Urban Outfitters among the eighth grade shoppers? Me shopping there at eight months pregnant. Sweet.


My Mom Friends have warned to not share name contenders for the baby with friends, family, or strangers, because the full-on judgment is not something fun to deal with. They advised, keep any baby names a secret. I thought, maybe they were overreacting, who cares what other people think? But now that I’m in that arena, I have found that keeping your mouth shut is excellent advice!

As one parent said, people express an opinion even when they don’t mean too — it ranges from blank expression to vehement monologues on why the name they just heard is stupid, and my reaction has been complete defensive.

Not that we have a final name, but I don’t even want to list contenders, in order to preserve all my friendships and superficial relationships. Yay!

(The baby’s name is Sasquatch. Deal with it.)


I love swimming, particularly now. I just love my black, maternity swim suit, which is the size of a two-person tent. I love it because covers every inch of my tree trunk middle. I can’t tell you how comforting it is. It’s like wearing a sleeping bag or something. I love it so much I might write an ode to it.

Swimming is the only activity I can do right now at a normal human pace. I think tonight an old man who needed a cane literally passed me on the sidewalk, because I walk that slow now.

The only thing that kind of got in my way of enjoying my swim tonight was I had to share a lane with this guy who was like 7′ 1″ and for some reason thought doing the elementary front crawl would be okay in a teeny lane and slapped me with his hand or foot every time he passed me. Ugh, I just felt like he swam like a gigantic ahole and with no grace. Boooo!


I’m sure you’ve heard about the NBC debacle with Conan and all that jazz. Husband and I chatted about it and thought, there’s no way he should stay with NBC, not after getting so blatantly misled and mistreated. You can only compromise yourself so much (ha ha, I’m not talking about my career choices), before you totally fall off the path you envisioned yourself on. (I’m tired so can’t quite articulate what I mean.)

On a positive note, it’s been a creative boon for all late night monologue writing. Check this out for very entertaining TV.

Right now, the Conan ratings must be amazing! He’s been making fun of his bosses every night, and today, I was thinking this has to be in some part because he get to act out what many must fantasize about — telling your boss to take a hike and just leap into the unknown.

Of course, if your job is that bad, you can make this choice too, but most of us don’t have a $45 million check (Conan’s fee if he doesn’t get to do the Tonight Show) waiting for us when we quit our job.

first diaper change ever

Wow, Husband and I babysat a one-and-half-or-so baby (who we totally love) and got our butts kicked. Last night, I changed my first diaper! (I’m a late bloomer. The first time I drank so much I threw up was on my 30th birthday.) I assumed it would take an hour, but it was actually really fast. After giving the baby a bath, we had to diaper and PJ him, and he was so not interested, desperate to escape. I cannot explain to you how unwieldly a baby can make his body — he stretched wildly, rolled around, his limbs suddenly became flesh-and-blood numchucks. He was like Plastic Man. It took both Husband and I to alligator-wrestle the baby down, and it was like a scene out of 8 Seconds starring Luke Perry. If the PJs had buttons and not zipper, I don’t think we would have made it. It helps that we were both laughing wildly. Other moments of the night went much more smoothly, but was a good lesson that I have A LOT TO LEARN. (Apologies to Joslyn if the diaper was a bit baggy.)

more hillary love

Hillary Clinton is just a freaking stud. I read in the Sunday Times (on Wednesday, which is usually when I get to it), the paper talked about how crucial it was support China in the world fair opening at Shanghai 2010 for U.S.-China relations, but the Bush Administration had totally dropped the ball. The U.S. needed $61 mil to participate in the Expo, and Hillary Clinton raised $60 mil in 9 months.

This summer, when she traveled to Palestine, she had all media welcomed at her press conferences. Traditionally, the U.S. only allowed pro-American outlets, but she overrode that choice and faced journalists who HATE the U.S. Tell me she’s not a gutsy stud. Tell me to my face!