Letter B

I Love You!

Thank you for all the awesome advice. I will be a very busy downloader this weekend. I am not ashamed to admit that I probably had only heard of 30% of the artists you recommended. Okay, I'm a little ashamed. (And somewhere in some alternate universe my past self is dying of embarrassment). Very excited for new music. Thanks again for the suggestions. And also for the big boy bed advice. We'll be starting that experiment on Sunday and we're filled with foolhardy optimism. How bad could it be?

Now some goodies for you:
1. Someday I will make a pilgrimage to a hummingbird migration festival. Who's with me?
2. Jon Stewart does an incisive analysis of the history of American foreign policy in the Middle East. Laughed my ass off through this segment which helped tamp down the bubbling rage.
3. Not a Pop Tart is consumed in this household without some reference to this Brian Regan bit. (I apologize for the stupid ad you will have to mute before getting to the goodness).
4. I just can't stop with the FOTC. Bret, You've Got It Going On

Since I Asked...

Tonight I have been importing cd's into my new computer and have come to the realization I really need to get some music that has been recorded in the last 10 years. Sigh. How the mighty have fallen. Believe or not, once upon a time music was my life but now? Talk about your back burners. It's not even on the stove. Please help me. Would you be so kind as to list 5-10 songs of recentish vintage that I should go buy on itunes right this very minute? Meanwhile I'll keep recording these ancient cd's while flashing back to the 90s. P.S. I like everything - every genre you can throw at me. I'm more interested in what you like.

If you have no music to share perhaps you can help me with my other dilemma. We're moving Lowell into a big boy bed pretty soon and I am seeking any and all advice. Or just anecdotes to let me know what we're in for. I think it will be okay - he seems ready - but I really don't know if there are any good tricks or techniques outside of pinning him to the mattress. I am most concerned about naptime. And by concerned I mean stricken with terror. Your advice is most welcome.

Freakout!

My giant belly is starting to make me really contemplate this whole "having another baby" thing. You'd think that maybe I would have given it some thought before the third trimester but no, not really. (Yes, I am just that good at procrastinating.) It's really hard to ignore at this point, so my mind has been on a little bit of hyperdrive.  I am having really googly moments about having a baby again. And just thrilled at the prospect of having another little human to love. It's hard to fathom that I get to have another being like Lowell in my life. I feel so lucky to get to do this again. The privilege of it all is overwhelming. But, I have to admit that mostly I am having thoughts like "Holy sh*t, I can't believe we have to do it all again." I keep thinking about all the hard stuff: the sleepless nights, the breastfeeding, spit-up, pumping, solid food, crawling, keeping the floor cleanish, learning to walk, choking hazards, gates on the stairs, walking, talking, and oh god, potty-training. All. Over. Again. Every time Lowell makes another leap towards independence and self-reliance I think, "yeah, but you're about to be at square one again, you big sucker." And not just square one, either. Square one squared because I'm about to have two of them. Two people who, when not delighting me beyond measure, will be busy sucking out my essence until I am a dry husk. It's giving me pause.

Also? Don't remember being this much of a wimp the first time around. I feel like all I do these days is complain about being pregnant. I am audibly moaning and groaning much more. Not feeling much of the happy or the bliss. Even Lowell confronted me yesterday and told me that I am a grouch. His word. And it is so true. I guess maybe because it's not as novel the second time. Maybe it's that I still have to keep up with an almost 3-yr old no matter how I'm feeling. (It's a far cry from my desk job and my beloved secret napping place of pregnancy 1).  I keep waiting for moments of loving this time, of tenderness and sadness because it is most likely (and by "most likely" I mean "definitely") my last time up the pole but those moments are just not there. I did have a moment of wistfulness about not being able to eat daily hot-fudge sundaes when this is over, but that's about it. Maybe it will still come. Maybe when I am going into labor I'll hearken back on these halcyon days but right now I am not feeling it. Just feeling large and grumpy and slightly freaked out.

The Greatest NYT Science Article Ever

I am really glad that I stumbled upon this today in the NYT science section because I've been shopping around for something to replace my wimpy buddhist/agnostic faith/value system. Now I can believe in the Almighty Player Character who runs our MMORPG universe. Seriously, this article is so awesome. Finally! Something that can explain George Bush.

Our Lives, Controlled From Some Guy’s Couch

Greetings From The Enchanted Tomato Forest

Sometimes I tease about my mad compost scientist husband. But look at these incredible tomatoes! All grown from his lovingly created organic soil. He put so much work into the garden this year and it's just going bonkers. As a rabid tomato lover I am in heaven. It's amazing to have this never-ending supply of incredibly delicious tomatoes (and tomatillos - salsa verde anyone?). We also have peppers, lettuce, eggplant, squash and herbs galore. The zucchini never really materialized (got just two) due to a lack of pollination. (Matthew has since been reading up on beekeeping. Oy.) It's just been so fun to finally have a garden after years of only window boxes and going broke on heirlooms at the Union Square market.

 

Where Have All The Phthalates Gone?

That's me and Pete Seeger there (click to view my fuzzy phone pic in all it's glory). He lives in our area and gave a concert at the community day camp where Lowell and I have been taking swim lessons once a week. After he was finished he sat behind us and listened to the campers sing a rendition of "Where Have All The Flowers Gone?" Isn't that a beautiful smile from a living legend?  My favorite part of his set was when he explained that lullabies are actually propaganda songs. Yeah. Stick it to the Mom.

It's a little boring to complain that it's hot in the summer but dammit, I am fat, bloated and bitchy and I can't help myself. I am just so pissed that August is acting all august-y. I was hoping for some kind of reverse-global warning miracle. Not snow or anything, but you know, maybe highs in the 70's with no humidity? I'll be lucky if I get that in September at the rate things are going.

Speaking of global warming, I have so far avoided reading up much on plastic toxicity because honestly, I just don't want to know. Personally, I am quite fond of plastic in moderation and don't really want to worry about anything else right now. Stupidly, I followed a link off a blog I like very much the other day and now I am all caught up in the hysteria. Argh. Bisphenol A, PVC, phthalates, etc... don't follow any of those links unless you want to end up like me, tossing and turning about how I may have ruined my unborn child's reproductive health by using a Brita jug. (Silly, old me, trying to keep lead out of my system...) I am not to the point of throwing everything out and searching for wood alternatives but I am mildly alarmed by some of the studies out there, especially the ones on Bisphenol A. (I am not suggesting any causative link because I am quite aware of how ridiculous that is from a scientific standpoint but I was intrigued to find out that Bisphenol A is in dental sealants used on kids. I have had a myriad of conditions that have been attributed to haywire hormones and I was one of the first kids out there to get sealants in the 70's. Again, not causative but interesting as a possible contributing environmental factor -- in my f-in mouth). For the most part I try not to get sucked into anxiety about this stuff. We live in such a polluted world as it is that you could lose your mind if you really went there with every new study that comes out. And in general we try to keep plastic to a minimum and we are above-average recyclers but as soon as you have a kid it becomes much harder to keep plastic, especially the sucked and chewed-on kind, at bay. I guess I will just have to get more informed and figure out what to do going forward. I will be getting glass or bio-plastic baby bottles, pretty sure about that. Dammit. Damn Internet.

Oh Yeah, And The Rest Of Our Vacation Was Great, Too

Our trip to Chicagoland was amazing. First of all we had a stretch of unseasonably cool weather. We got to my dad's place in the south suburbs and it was only somewhat brain-meltingly hot. The next day there were thunderstorms and from then on it was downright pleasant. This is a minor miracle for Chicago in late July. Then Lowell got to be completely indulged by my dad and stepmom who are expert spoilers. Exhibit A: my dad reconstructed an early-nineties era electric kid's corvette (once belonging to my stepbrother who is in college now) for Lowell. It was, um, a big hit. The sight of him doing doughnuts in the little league field across the street was comedy gold. (Okay, driving in big circles because he really couldn't grok steering is a little different than peeling out doughnuts, but still! Hysterical!) My stepmom, Sue, put an old cellphone in the dash for good measure. Lowell must have called AAA a thousand times after getting out to check the engine (American cars, man). Exhibit B: Lowell now asks for a "popaskull" and "ice keem simich, maybe?" several times a day. (Now that we are home his chances of getting one are slim. Maaaybe a tofutti cutie. Poor kid.) Exhibit C: He invented a game that was a vigorous cross between tennis and basketball and got to play it everyday with my dad in the driveway. Dad is still with us by the way.

We watched the White Sox win a couple games which was very nice of them seeing as my Dad tends to take losses rather personally. Matthew and I got out to see a movie, always a treat. We chose to see "Sicko" which in hindsight, although very good, was a poor choice for a pregnant woman. Spent the whole two hours in tears. (Come to think of it, also saw "Fahrenheit 9/11" when pregnant. What is my problem?) Then my sister showed up with my two nephews and the cousin worship began anew. My folks were such good sports about us all descending upon them and taking over their household. I know that they love us but they do truly prove it sometimes. (Especially when I took off for a weekend of geeky debauchery, leaving my child behind). Before we left my dad put together a slide show (of actual slides mind you, in a projector) of old snapshots of us that I had never seen before. There is something so disarming about seeing new pictures of yourself as a child. Most family pictures become part of the fabric of your memory, it's hard to separate image from recollection. So seeing new ones can be an existential jolt. I loved it, but it was a little melancholy too. Pictures from before my parents divorce always make me a little sad.

On Sunday Matthew, Lowell and I decamped for The North (Evanston specifically) to visit the other side of my family and stay with my aunt Ann. She is known as Bubbles to the small fry of the family. (My mother and two of her sisters are known as Bubbles, Bammie and Trixie to the grandchildren. These nicknames have been observed to make them sound like a group of aging strippers.) On the way we stopped at my grandmother's apartment downtown for dinner. (Some of you may remember my grandmother, you know, the one who was nearly run over by a train?) She was so sweet with Lowell even though he was in a crazed state, hell-bent on punishing me for having a life for two days. He at least complied with our little parlor trick of saying that Bach was his favorite composer. My grandmother beamed. (Then I had to go and ruin it by  mispronouncing Mozart with a soft "z." I think she even warned me about being a bad influence - woman takes her foreign language pronunciation seriously.) We also discussed baby names for her newest great-grandchild. She was very diplomatic and said nothing either way about the choices I mentioned but her poker face sucks. At least she disliked them all.

Our couple days at Bubble's apartment were excellent. She and my uncle are great hosts and a lot of fun. We went to the beach with my cousin and her kids and had fun swimming and digging holes in the sand. I was happy I finally got to baptize Lowell in Lake Michigan, the ocean of my youth. (Although it's been many years since I lived on a Great Lake I still get surprised every time I go to the beach and taste salt in the water). We also got to watch some baseball (Cubs this time) on HD. Wow. Wow. You could see the gnats buzzing the pitcher. Amazing. My sister and brother-in-law also came up (leaving their kids at my dad's for their annual Week Of Total Coolness With Their Awesome Grandparents - see above about my dad and stepmom being expert spoilers). We all had a lovely barbecue in the courtyard of their building the night before we left. Ribs, corn salad, kebobs. Yum. And an iPod blasting Tom Lehrer. What could be better?

Our flight home was mercifully without incident. Other than, you know, the usual flying with a two-and-a-half year old jollies. I further complicated the trip through security by bringing my laptop with me. I think we put a total of 12 bins through the machine. Not an exaggeration. And a stroller. And a car seat. Did you know they make you take your toddler's shoes off too? I am positive that the entrance into Hell has similar regulations and protocol. But the flight was short and we flew into a small regional airport instead of JFK or LaGuardia so in all honesty it was cake.

Now home for a day I find I'm experiencing some letdown. This was our big trip of the summer and it was so fun and fulfilling on so many levels that a post-vacation depression was inevitable. Also, now fully into my third trimester, I am realizing I have about 8 weeks to do all the things I wanted to do before possibly having a newborn to take care of. That may seem like a chunk of time but it isn't when all you feel like doing is keeping your feet elevated. (Can someone come over and teach me how to sew something other than a curtain? Also, please potty train Lowell? And possibly write my novel? Thanks.) I am sad that this summer is starting to wind down because of all the major change to our little family come October. I am so excited to have this little girl but I am so scared too. It makes me just want to hang on a little bit longer to summer this year.