Perseverance

I can't even believe that I'm writing about this, because I can't believe it happened. Yesterday Anil and I decided to make a day of errands into an adventure by bringing Bailey. We were going to Newbury Street, where the Patagonia store is as well as lots of other stores, to get and mail some family birthday presents and get lunch. Then I convinced Anil to do this long walk along the Charles River, about 4 or 5 miles. It goes down the Esplanade from Mass. Ave. to the Museum of Science, then crosses over to Cambridge and follows the river back to the Mass. Ave. bridge and to the store, where we parked. We've never taken Bailey down there, so we decided to go for it. We loaded Bailey into the car and headed down Beacon Street, when Anil uttered the fateful words, "Bailey didn't poop before we left so I hope he doesn't poop on Newbury Street." 

Warning, if you're already grossed out by me writing poop twice up there, don't read on. Just stop here. I wish I had been able to. 

Literally right after he said that, we both smelled something that should not be in the car, and realized that Bailey was not going to poop on Newbury Street because he'd just crapped in the car!! We had the back seats pushed down, so we could turn around and assess the situation. For some reason, instead of pulling into a parking spot on either side of Beacon Street, Anil pulled down a side street that was on a vertical incline, pointing downwards. The incline combined with Anil's stopping short... well... can you guess? Some of the poop flew forward. And hit me in the elbow. Again, the back seats were down, so there was no barrier. This is about when I started flipping out. 

We got out of the car, all three of us, and I held Bailey by the collar with an iron fist while Anil bagged the poop; if there was anything good about this situation it was that Bailey didn't step in any of it so it was easy to pick up. We had towels in the car that I scrubbed my elbow with. 

And then.... and then. We got back into the car (with the seats UP this time and Bailey all the way in the back) and started driving. Then I looked down and saw that, inexplicably, there was a small piece of dog poop on the center AC vent!!! How it got there we'll never understand. 

While all of this was going on, I need to mention, I was having a total hormonal breakdown, and the AC vent put me into a tailspin. On the one hand, this was a completely hilarious situation. This is not something that just happens--it was so random and so perfectly timed, from Anil's comment, to the smell, to the ill-fated AC vent that made no sense at all and was seemingly just there to mock us. And in some part of my brain that is probably squished to the side much like my abdominal organs, I could see the humor in all of it, and I knew that laughing would be a much better solution and would make Anil and me a team instead of adversaries in this drama. 

But nooooo, for the life of me I couldn't access that reaction, and instead went into complete meltdown about how we couldn't do anything right, everything was so gross and disgusting, Anil never listens to me (ahem, I had said we should put the seats up before driving), I'd asked him to get the car cleaned a billion times and now there was crap on the AC vent! And somewhere in there was the realization and fear and panic that some time soon we'll have a baby in that backseat, a baby that poops indiscriminately and, from what I've heard, does not confine that action to her diapers (or onesie or, God forbid, car seat???). And our lives are going to be a string of these kinds of episodes, and I'll never feel competent or, let alone, cute and, well, clean, again. I just lost it. 

Anil told me later that he was trying with all his might to not start laughing about the AC vent because there I was with tears pouring down my cheeks in the passenger seat. We weren't far from home so we just went back, cleaned everything up, and decided to make another run of it. 

Here is the happy ending though, after all of that drama. The rest of the day was a total success! Bailey behaved beautifully on Newbury Street. We got burgers at my favorite place, B.Good, and sat outside where Bailey laid calmly beside our table. We got our birthday gifts in the mail. Then we walked to the Esplanade and all the way around that loop with Bailey at our sides. He's drawn to the water like I am drawn to blocks of cheddar cheese these days, so there was some leaning and tugging towards the Charles, but for the most part Bailey did a great job. Here are some photos we took to commemorate the day. 

These are both from the Mass. Ave. bridge:

As you can see, it was a beautiful day, so it was really good that we didn't let the faulty start ruin our adventure. The esplanade and this part of the city is my absolute favorite part of Boston. When we moved here, I was so happy to have a place where I could sit and walk by the water. The last Harry Potter book came out the summer that we moved, and this is where I took it to read the day it was published. For our third anniversary, I made a picnic lunch complete with mimosas and took Anil to the Esplanade... even though that June 4 was a dismal day of rain and overcast weather! We enjoyed our picnic in fleeces and baseball caps because I wouldn't relent my plan, and it was fabulous. This is also where we like to take all of our out-of-town guests, because you can see so much of the city, from the Salt and Pepper bridge (behind Bailey and me in our photo), to the MIT and Harvard sailboats and Cambridge on the other side of the river, to the Hatch Shell where the Boston Pops play on the 4th of July. So it was worth the angst of the morning to spend such a nice afternoon with the boys, and to find that despite the awkward start, my dog is not a total disaster, and neither am I. 

When we walked back to the Patagonia store, I decided to reward myself with some ice cream from J.P. Licks, which is next door. Then I thought that Bailey deserved a reward as well, so I got him a doggie ice cream. 

signature preggo sweater

The idea is that this sweater will be a main player in my pregnancy, and not just because I only have about a week's worth of clothes that fit me. I got it with my mom in Florida, from Anthropologie, when Anil and I visited and did our beach vacation in mid-August. I splurged on it as a "signature pregnancy piece," a treat for myself, instead of going with the more traditional grey open-front sweater from JCrew that I'd planned on getting. It kind of reminds me of Kurt Cobain or someone's couch from college, but either because of or despite all that, I love it. And it's super comfy. After I bought it and came home, I read an interview in which Michael Kors said that the rule for buying a new item of clothing is that it should have both something familiar and something interesting about it. Familiar so that you know you'll wear it and it won't be too out there, but interesting so that it feels fresh and you want to wear it. So thank you, Michael Kors, for validating my purchase. 

We had a few colder (like low 60s) days last week so I got to debut the yellow sweater in Harvard Square with Anil. My favorite shoe store is there (The Tannery!), and they usually have a buy one shoe get another 1/2 off deal. Anil needed dress shoes for an upcoming interview, and we concurred that some slip-on Merrells would be a smart investment for me, especially since already I can't bend over from the waist and breath at the same time. 

bouncing bladder

One thing that I forgot to mention about my run with Anil and Bailey the other night (from the post below) is that I realized that my uterus must be bouncing on top of my bladder when I run, because I instantly had to pee as soon as I increased my stride! This happened last week too, but I thought it was just because I'd had water before the run. This time the reason clicked though. When I'd stop to walk or stretch, I'd be fine, but as soon as I started jogging again, there it was. It's the first time I've noticed an internal side effect from my growing belly beyond the upper back soreness that's become common over the past few weeks (that only feels better when I exercise), and it's funny and annoying at the same time. I've been working out through my pregnancy so far, but I've mostly kept it to the gym, to machines like the elliptical on which you glide more than bounce, because it's been so hot outside. I've been really excited to start running outside again (granted, more slowly than before), and this bladder thing might be a deal breaker; I'll have to see if it continues. There are no spots for a bathroom break on my route, and it takes about 30 minutes. 

half-way!!

I'm a week past half-way now, at 21 weeks. The whole pregnancy is 40 weeks, that is, if it goes by the book. I can feel the baby kicking, rolling, whatever she's doing, a few times a day now. At first it was a little jarring, but I'm getting used to it and now it's like a little "hello" from her throughout the day. Here are a few belly photos to show what's been happening on the outside. 

These are at 18 weeks. My goal is to get some photos of me without soaking wet hair, but the only time I take picture are before Anil and I go out to do something, and usually I've just taken a shower. 

  

We had a really busy weekend, which is uncharacteristic for us these days. We went to dinner at a BBQ place in Davis Square on Friday night with friends from college. I went outlet shopping with a friend on Saturday, but sadly, the giant maternity outlet store was a bust. I treated myself to a reeeealllly soft cashmere scarf though because, get this--it's pink. It's pink plaid--Burberry. It's my "I'm having a baby girl" present to myself, and I spent all of our lunch rationalizing the purchase (for example, it's shorter than my usual really long scarf, so it's more practical for when I'm bending over a baby). Then later that night my friend said how I could give the scarf to my daughter when she's older, and Internet, if I was still in first trimester crying-mode, I would have flooded the car. So consider that purchase entirely rationalized if not on an entirely rational level. Saturday night we watched football and ate more grilled meet (after that weekend there's probably no way that the cupcake will be a vegetarian) with friends from college, and it was so great to just relax and laugh with people that we've known for so long. Good to know that we can still be uproariously immature even when, in other ways, we're treading farther into adulthood. 

On Monday Anil and I went to the beach in New Hampshire. He and a friend went surfing and I hung out on the beach, trying to inhale as much of the salty air as possible to give the cupcake an early appreciation of it. We bought a baby t-shirt from the surf shop up there (photo below--that's our apartment behind me). For some reason the photos Anil took that day came out blurry, but the t-shirt has the store name, Cinnamon Rainbows, on it, so wherever we are next summer we can remember our chilly beach haunt up here. 

What struck me, though, is that after this whole super-busy and fun-filled weekend, my favorite part of the whole week came on Tuesday evening. Anil and I spent the afternoon doing some errands, which can be grueling, but then we came home and took Bailey running around the Chestnut Hill reservoir, our running loop near Boston College. After the run, I stretched in the grass while watching Anil and Bailey run sprints together--it was really cute. That moment was my favorite of the whole past week. Maybe it's this whole imminent family thing that we've created, but being together, doing something active in the fresh air (that's getting crisper by the day up here), and having no further responsibilities for the night than making dinner and watching TV was so calming and simple. 

HBO is the new beer

About a month ago I decided that since I had to give up beer and my later-night social life, I could justify getting HBO for the rest of this year. Right around when I found out I was pregnant, I started watching the first season of True Blood on DVD, and I got so hooked that I couldn't deal with the new season starting on HBO without me watching it. And I loved the escape in story that the show provided. 

What's struck me the most, though, is how all of this just makes me feel like I'm in high school. Take any Friday night; it's like everyone else got word of the party and I, for whatever reason, am not involved, so instead I lose myself in a story. And I found that I actually missed that experience--being so wrapped up in great story-telling and getting invested in it and distracted by it. 

This all being said, the finale to season two is on Sunday night, so I'm not sure what I'll turn to after that. Send good book recommendations my way! Or other TV series to put on Netflix. When I first ordered HBO, I also signed up for a free trial month of Showtime for the sole purpose of Anil and I watching the third season of Dexter "on demand." When I started watching Dexter through Netflix, Anil refused to be involved as he knew he'd be instantly hooked and didn't want another TV show to have pull over him. But he relented when I got the second season, and then we were both rabid for the next one. So we burned through those shows in a week. THIS IS WHAT HAPPENS WHEN YOU CAN'T DRINK BEER OR STAY OUT PAST 8 PM! 

It's been pretty fun though, I have to admit. Lest we all forget, I was an instant English major in college because I love love love stories and characters and great writing. And I'm bringing Anil around to the complicated protagonist--the one that isn't clearly "good" or "bad." I call it the "Tony Soprano complex." Anil always hated watching The Sopranos, not just because you could always hear Tony breathing and chewing (and breathing while chewing), but because Tony was just a bad guy, as Anil saw it. And yes, he was bad--he killed people, etc. But he also had mommy issues and went to therapy. So he wasn't one-sided; he was deliciously complicated and surprisingly interesting. We would talk about how the bookworm in me is used to being curious and observing that kind of twisted protagonist or narrator as opposed to needing to like or respect them. So with Dexter, I worried that Anil would have a problem with the whole protagonist-as-sociopathic-murderer thing. But no! Anil wanted to name our child Dexter if it was a boy. The character is so likable and, well, he only kills bad people, so how turned off by him can you be? And like True Blood, the show has moments of surprising humor, which I think helps lighten the mood and prevents entrenching the viewer in feeling as dirty as the characters are, as I sometimes felt during less savory episodes of The Sopranos (but not that one where Tony and Christopher chased that giant guy into the snowy woods and got lost--that was great). 

I hope our daughter loves books and stories as much as I always have. Who am I kidding though--what chance does she have? My mom read to me throughout my childhood, and I'll absolutely do the same, for my own enjoyment if nothing else. I still vividly remember getting my first hard-cover "chapter book" (as we called them) for my 6th birthday--The Boxcar Children. I don't think I could actually read it myself then, but it was heavy in my hands and felt very important. You can bet that I'll be keeping that tradition with our daughter. I'm already thinking about all the fantastic children's books that we can read together, even the ones that she'll want me to read over, and over, and over, and over again, until I can recite them in my sleep. And I will, because that's what my parents did too (sorry guys--I know you're going to buy her Fox in Sox just so I'll know what it's like to read it to a toddler 28 times a day).

Maybe we'll be reading books before the kids go to sleep, then feverishly catching up on our DVR-ed HBO. Or maybe we'll have more of a social life again by that point; there's always hope. 

catching up!

What's that, Internet? Oh, I have a blog? And people actually read it? And you're saying, if I don't actually write things on it, then it kind of defeats the purpose? Okay... point taken.

To finally follow up from last week's adventurous ultrasound appointment... we're having a baby girl! Anil and Sara are having a daughter. Doesn't that sound crazy?! 

We're sooooo excited and have been planning and registering for things in pink, yellow, and light green. It's been a ton of fun, despite the overwhelming nature of Babies R Us. Fortunately we can temper that with a local store in our neighborhood that's small and super helpful. Both have registries we can manage online, which is so convenient but also makes them easy for me to obsess over. Being able to go online for Babies R Us also means we don't have to drive 30 minutes to the suburbs again. And it's not just about "getting stuff"; figuring out what we want/need in the context of a baby girl makes it that much more real. It's made us start thinking about how to rearrange the apartment, and that makes us think about how things are really going to change in more ways that just furniture.

In other news, my biggest "Whaaaaa??!!" moment of the week was finding out that my feet might grow up to a size, and not necessarily go back after I give birth/reduce from swollen whale status. I'm trying not to be devastated by the real possibility that the handful of fabulous shoes and boots that I've amassed over the years of being a very consistent size 7 might not fit me again. It's absurd. I feel like I'm on some lame version of "What Not to Wear," having to re-imagine and purchase an entirely new wardrobe, except no one is handing me a bank card filled with cash. Someone did not get that memo.

taking bets

I'm almost four months along, and Anil and I find out on Monday whether we're having a boy or a girl. So I'm taking bets--what do you think we're getting? It's a win-win situation as far as we're concerned. In the past couple of days, my bump moved noticeably up--at least to me. About four days ago I realized that I could feel it when I bent over, and it felt more crowded up there after I ate dinner. (The other reason for these feeling might be all the over-indulgent eating I did on vacation, but I swear it looks higher!) The old wives tale is that the positioning means it's a boy, but I imagine there are plenty of people who could say otherwise from experience. My family is very prone to having girls--when we have Thanksgiving at my aunt's house in Richmond it looks like Oprah's studio audience on all-ages day. So who knows! My only fear is that since we have the ultrasound on the earlier side of the "window," they'll say it's a girl because they can't see everything yet, so we'll end up with a lot of pink for what will turn out to be a boy. I mean, if he wants pink when he's old enough to voice that opinion, fine by me, but it's a funny way to start :). Just kidding--I'm sure they'll look closely. We're going back to Beth Israel for the ultrasound so they can double check the hydrosalpinx, so I imagine I'll get another fairly new resident who will take a good hour to do the ultrasound, and we can sit back and watch the whole time. Maybe I should bring popcorn.