Alternate title: Animated Feature
If you’re ever pregnant in the big city with a toddler asleep in the other room, you might try what I did for entertainment tonight:
Lay on your back on the couch.
Put the toddler’s stuffed doll on top of your big pregnant belly.
Wait until the baby kicks.
Watch the toy dance on the big pregnant belly.
Laugh your head off, thus prompting baby to kick again.
so much depends
the clean load
glazed with tap
below the empty
(With thanks to William Carlos Williams. It is almost poetry month. Get out thy quills, chickees!)
PS Sorry, this is also posted at my other blog. If I’m going to publish a poem anonymously, I need to do it in as many places as possible for some reason.
Tagged by Lo.
Here are the rules:
Step 1. Reference back to the blog that sent you.
Step 2. Make a list of 5 things that you have to get done this week, no matter how small.
Step 3. Get 2 other people off their asses to get their shit in order.
Five things I need to do this week:
(This is a little boring, which is perhaps why I haven’t done them yet.)
1. Cash that check my friend’s mom gave me toward her baby shower.
2. Do the rebate for the awful (DON’T BUY IT) candy-themed ELL GEE Vereyezon cell phone I bought.
(Noticing a theme?)
3. Send in the form for my 25/55 retirement option. It was this union decision that got me projecting soooooo far into the future, that I’m already wondering what career I’ll happily start in 19 years when I retire from the NYC DOE and both of my kids are almost off to college. I need to be more zen.
4. Find someplace to stash those mounds of regular-person clothes now ousted from my drawers by maternity wear and currently taking residence in piles around my bedroom floor.
5. Make appointments to interview several more people for my book, which I have been terribly remiss in doing ever since my vacation to New Mexico.
Here I add a new part of the meme… Here’s what I am doing instead of those things I should be doing:
1. Watching the sketch on the Big Gay Sketch Show in which the actor reads GM seeking GM personals ads in the persona of Maya Angelou. (Brilliant!)
2. Watching my baby bump do the Mambo.
3. Posting to my blog. (Duh.)
4. Killing time so I can call someone in a far far away time zone.
5. Trying not to eat more easter candy.
I tag woolypear and eggdrop.
I’ve been wanting to explain the whole impending big brother thing to Cakie for some time, but I also wanted to wait until he initiated the conversation. He started by falling in love with some babies. Nelly also gave me three really good “I’m a big brother” books. Cake fell in love with the books as well. So the other night while I was holding Baby S, and Cakie was calling her a “cutie-cutie,” I asked him if he wanted a baby. He agreed. So I said, “Well, it is going to take a long time, but Mommy is making a baby for you right here in my belly.” He just looked at me and walked away.
So I wasn’t sure if he really got it, even though one of the books he loves is a lift-the-flap book with cutaway diagrams of pregnant bellies among other things, like suitcases and watermelons. Then yesterday, he ran and gave me a big hug, placing his head gently on my big belly. Then he pointed down at the pregnancy magazine on the couch and said, “Dat Mommy!” Yeah, he wasn’t just pointing at any old pregnant lady, either. Apparently, my belly bears a striking resemblance to that of pregnant volley-ball star and model, Gabrielle Reese. I love my son.
So I think he’s got it. He’s also begun to say, “I a big bwother.”
Here’s some good stuff:
1. Friday. Good Friday is good. Cake is at daycare and I have a whole unplanned day with my honey. We won’t do anything exciting, probably. But the prospect of a free day is exciting enough in itself.
2. Crazy play dates. I go to an informal playgroup some Thursdays. Usually three or four kids show up. So I hosted yesterday. Ok. I had 13 kids in my house. Three sets of twins! It was fun. And somehow nothing is broken, nobody got hurt and my house is clean. I guess when you spend most of your time being the only adult with 20 kids, nothing else that involves lots of other adults seems too hard or stressful.
3. My belly. It is so wiggly and kickarifik. Everyone keeps calling it “cute” and it is not too cumbersome yet.
4. New Amsterdam Day. My classroom turns into a time machine and we go back 350-odd years. It was also yesterday… the same day as the mega play date. We made butter, dressed up, ate “Dutch food” like donuts and pretzels, played “nine pins” and had a generally roaring good time. My New Amsterdam outfit needed to be changed a bit, since I had to work some maternity clothes into the outfit. One of my students asked me if the Dutch settlers wore 3/4 sleeves. I said, “No, but I’m pregnant, so I needed to wear my pregnant lady shirt.” I slept pretty well last night.
5. You guys. Thanks for giving me an audience for my ramblings. It is so great to write for fun on a regular basis and actually know that somebody else is enjoying it. Diary, schmiary.
I am a bit of a shoe fiend. Not Imelda Marcos-style, nor in a Carrie-In-The-City Manolo Blah Blah way. I’ve been in constant pursuit of the perfect pair of comfy, stylish, all-purpose shoes for most of my adult life. (I’m sure I’m not alone.)
I don’t know if it was the wearing of many cheap pairs of Payle$s shoes in high school, or the over-compensation Birkenstock-fest that was college. Somewhere along the line, I totally messed up my feet. I’ve had plantar faceatous, a heel spur, and that pesky problem in which two nerves in the ball of my foot meet and get irritated unbearably and most unpredictably when wearing certain pairs of shoes. There is no criteria for which shoes will do this to my feet.
At one point I had over fifty pairs of shoes.
I was pretty excited when I finally decided to take the clog plunge. I bought my first pair when I got pregnant and decided not to bother with any other shoes. Houndsblood clogs. They go with everything. Comfy, cute (in a lesbo-teacher kind of way), sturdy, water-proofish… I loved them.
Then, for some reason, I decided that my clogs were causing the back pain I had been experiencing for most of my pregnancy. I did not bring them to New Mexico with me. I started wearing my flat brown boots everywhere. Two weeks later, the pain was gone. So I’ve connected the pain with my beloved shoe ode to the Dutch founders of my great city. Damnit. Now I have no shoes. I mean, I have the brown boots. I have two pairs of brown boots. But I just received all of these super-cute maternity clothes from friends. They all require black shoes. I went to Da Shoe Warehouse and quickly in the manner of anyone shopping when they wish they were home with their cutie putie two-year-olds, chose a pair of seemingly-comfortable plain jane black loafers. Cheap, but also the most comfortable pair I tried on.
This is where it gets weird. I think my feet shrunk. Now, I have had many of the same symptoms during pregnancy that my mother had. One thing that happened to her is that her feet grew a size with each of her two pregnancies. Cool. I could buy all new shoes. I wear a 9.5. In Da Warehouse, I tried on two pairs of shoes that were that size, yet too big. What the? One of those pairs was the one I bought. They just slipped off the heel a little bit. I didn’t think it would be a problem. It is.
Uh. All I can think to do is steal my honey’s black Naots and call it a day. Any suggestions?
My friend Nelly is very demanding. She demanded a belly shot. Since she is my official superhero for giving birth vbac style at home, I must oblige. (She also gave me permission to sleep on my back the day before my midwife did.)
So here’s my 23rd week belly. One more week, and I’ll be six months pregnant.