The Discarded

I've been meaning to do a post about baby names, and then I saw this post by Kgirl. She made a very good point that a name you dismissed while the baby was still in the making, may just turn out to be the name that you finally chose. Wise words, Master. However, baby names are such a hot topic in our household that I can't resist. It's hanging over my head like this BIG TASK THAT MUST BE DONE, and it follows me wherever I go. I can't shake it. Every day it's "We don't have a name yet!", "We really should find a name", "Why the hell can we not agree on one single name?" I have a million other things to do before the baby comes, but this is the one that I obsess on.

Like Kgirl, I believe that naming a child is serious business. It's a duty given to you in trust for another human being. One who trusts you to give them a name that doesn't suck. And, it's the one thing that you can't change. I can repaint the walls. I can return the bed. Changing a name is a Big Deal, though, and not something I would do to a little kid. How confusing is that?

The problem at Casa Earth stems from the fact that despite my current feelings to the contrary, it's more than likely that we are going to have another boy. It took us 9 long months to agree on a name for the Boy, and we think it's perfect. There is no other male name that we can agree on. (If we did have a girl, though, we have several nice names from which to choose - but that's a whole other disagreement). We can agree on the type of name we want, though: well-known but rarely used, easy to say, easy to spell, and reflecting our English, Irish or Scottish heritage. Mr Earth doesn't want a name that can be easily made fun of by other kids, and I think you can make fun of any name if you put your mind to it. Neither of us want a made-up or "kreative" name, but we disagree dramatically on which names are made-up.

So here are some names which have been brought up, and discarded. Or downright vetoed. Maybe one of them is "The One", who knows:

NIGEL
She Said: I love this name and have for a long time. I don't know any little boy with this name, and yet the name is still widely known. I think it's an incredibly English name - in fact, I believe this to be a popular name in England. I also like how different it is from the Boy's name
He Said: This name does not reflect our English heritage.

QUINN
She Said: It's a bit nerdy, but I really like it. Also, my maiden name started with a Q, and I like the fact that his initials would be a combination of my and Mr Earth's family names.
He Said: All I can think of is the song "The Mighty Quinn".

FRASER
She Said: I'm not usually fond of last names as given names, but I like this one. It sounds fresh and breezy. It could be cool or nerdy, and it's different.
He Said: People will constantly confuse it with the name Frasier.

CLARENCE
She Said: Over my dead body will any child of mine be called Clarence. Yuck!
He Said: I think it's a great name! I don't know anyone called Clarence.
She Said: There's a reason for that.

AIDAN
She Said: A little too popular for my taste, but I still really like it.
He Said: All I can think of is the phrase "aidin' and abettin'"


Some names that we could agree on, if not for...


CLIVE
Love this name. Love. Love. LOVE!! And have you seen Clive Owen lately??....mm, yummy! Unfortunately this is the name of a VERY close relative, and I am superstitious about naming kids after living relatives. And, it would be kind of confusing.

DYLAN
We both love this name, but it's far too popular. We also hate the fact that it's now being used equally for boys and girls. Not fond of androgynous names.

LIAM
The name of one of Mr Earth's very good friends. Despite being good friends, neither of us really want to name our child after him. Plus, it's just kind of weird. I also think it's too popular a name.


So..the ticker is counting down the days, and we're still in name limbo. I'm hoping inspiration hits in the delivery room, or we're pretty much screwed. And I'm not the type of person to leave things till the last minute, so I just keep obsessing away. What do you think - is "the One" in the list above??

Or, is anyone out there psychic and willing to predict that we're having a girl?? That would make the whole name thing a darn sight easier.

Flying Toddler

Found on Craigslist while shopping for airplane accessories for the Boy's room:

Hi

My name is Josh - I'm 2 years old. I live with my mom in Toronto and my dad lives in Calgary. I want to spend lots of time with both my parents and my parents are looking for a woman to accompany me on flights Calgary/Toronto. I would only need you to accompany me about 4 flights a year as my visits with mom and dad will be very long. My mom or dad will meet us at the airport - all you have to do is stay with me on the plane. My mom or dad will pack me a meal and I can feed myself. I am a self-entertaining child and I can open up my own books and look at pictures. I will probably sleep most of the time. When I'm awake we can babble and giggle with each other.

If you fly Calgary/Toronto two or more times a year for business or pleasure, perhaps this might be for you. My mom would require some references and a child welfare check.

Thank you Josh



Does this bother anyone but me?? The Boy is two-and-a-half and I would have reservations about him flying with a relative, much less a complete stranger. I guess this could be thought of as a different version of a Nanny gig, but STILL.

That being said, this mother doesn't sound like she's looking for a nanny-type person, it sounds like she's looking for someone who happens to fly between Calgary and Toronto, and wouldn't mind taking a 2 year old with them. Is Josh toilet-trained? Judging by most male 2 year olds I've met (a surprising number, actually), I'm going to venture a guess that he's not. Or, at least not reliably. What happens if he has a poopy diaper? Does he just sit in it?? And, he may be able to open his own books, but I'm assuming he doesn't know how to read them. He may be very mature for his age, but taking a 2 year old on a plane is not the same as taking, say, an 8 year old.

I appreciate that the mother may not have the time/resources to take her son and herself to Calgary several times a year. I fully realize that I don't know her circumstances - that this may be her only option. Without, I hope, coming across as judgmental (not my intention here), I have to say that this ad makes me VERY uncomfortable.

That, and the fact that I found this advertisement on CRAIGSLIST.

Operation Big Boy

**Update below!**

With August rolling into September (eek!), we've finally got things underway with Operation Big Boy. We have decided that each kid should have their own room for now, at least until Baby Earth is no longer nursing throught the night. So rather than decorate two rooms, we're keeping the nursery the way it is, and transforming the guestroom/office into the Boy's new Big Boy room. We are making the switch now, in the hopes that the Boy believes the change to be a result of him growing up, rather than the arrival of Baby Earth.


Yesterday, my mom and I spent four (!) hours sorting through baby clothes, and have decided that it would be a very good thing, financially-speaking, if this baby turns out to be another boy. Most of the clothes, especially the earlier gender-neutral stuff, can go either way. Well, all clothes can go either way if it's a girl, I guess, but I've spent the last two and half years drooling over the girls clothes that I couldn't buy and developing some serious girlie clothes-envy. If we have a girl, we may just end up broke, because mama lurves to shop, and nothing fits mama anymore, so all mama does is buy baby clothes.


Today, the mission was bed shopping. We started out at
the very expensive bed shop that was recommended to us by a very nice man at Sleep Country Canada. Personally, I thought that their website was more impressive than the show room, but the people were very nice and helpful. At a thousand bucks a pop, though, we decided to forego buying the bed frame here. Mr Earth and I are sleeping on a bed frame that was used when he got it fifteen years ago - ain't no way I'm spending that kind of cash on a kid. Sorry, Boy, love ya and all but no way. It wasn't a wasted trip, though, because the Boy had a great time jumping on the bean bag chairs, and I did spend an ridiculous amount of money on a duvet cover and pillow sham (possibly the real reason for the trip). I saw this online and fell in love with it. Nothing else would do. Apparently, though I don't have many food cravings while pregnant, I do have some retail cravings. Food ones would be cheaper...

Next we went to Sears Home Outlet, hoping to see some of the beds that I found online earlier in the week. No deal. We found similar beds, but they were all in the $500 range, and I still balked at the price. I still think that this is pretty expensive, especially as the bed didn't seem to be that fabulous. Also, they didn't seem that different from the ones that saw online, only they were more than twice the price. Why on earth would they offer the same bed online for less than half the price? This confuses me. Why would you want to shop in the store? Although...I hesistate to buy a bed online because you can't really tell the quality. It makes me nervous.

Finally, I convinced Mr Earth that we should check out IKEA while we were in the neighbourhood. Mr Earth loathes IKEA. I don't blame him though, it's usually a madhouse there when we go, and the Boy likes to run through the aisles like a maniac. It's an accident waiting to happen. I did find a bed that I really like. It doesn't have drawer storage underneath, and it only comes in black or white (why not natural wood?? curious), but I like it and I like the fact that I could take a look at it in person. The Boy had a grand old time trying out beds, and trying out the ladders on the bunk beds (have I mentioned the accident waiting to happen..?) By the end though, he was tiring, and starting to freak out because he wanted to play with all the toys. We decided to go home and think over which bed would be best. That probably had to do with the fact that the bed is found in three different aisles and three different bins in the checkout area. Too confusing for us and a toddler teetering on the edge. We beat it home.

So the question is, which do we choose? The mate's bed that I've only seen online, but question the cheap price? Or, the IKEA bed that is lovely but has no storage, and is only in black or white? They're about the same price, so that's not an issue:

And, more importantly, will the Boy sleep in either of them? In an entirely new room?? That's what I'm most nervous about. We're trying to make as exciting as we can, and we are talking it up big time, but the Boy is change-resistant. I'm hoping that two months gives us enough time to get him settled in the new digs. Any suggestions on how to make the transition easier?

**I figured out why the beds were so much cheaper online than in the store: they sell the bookcase-headboards separately. Sneaky, sneaky. (That, or I'm just stoopid.) So, the IKEA bed is now $100 to $130 cheaper than the Sears one. It's hard to picture the bed above without the headboard, but it seems kind of plain. Still sturdy though. Argh.

About A Boy

One of the truly great things about parenting, I think, is that you really get to know yourself. Like, what you might do when a baby cries for ten hours practically non-stop. (I start crying myself, then hand the baby over to the husband and get the hell out of Dodge.) Or, what you do when the baby barfs all over you - and everything else - at a downtown restaurant. (Clean up the Boy, clean up myself, pay the cheque, buy the Boy a new outfit, and walk around the rest of day myself in barf-smelling clothes). Or, what your breaking point is when the kid asks the same question for the fiftieth time. (Here, I'm surprisingly patient and innovative. I just start asking him questions till he gets confused and stops asking the original one.)

You also explore layers of yourself that you never knew were there. Or never acknowledged before. My latest discovery, much to my dismay, is that although I'm very liberal-minded when it comes to gender-typing, it seems that publicly, I tow the conservative line.

Case in point, I finally bought the Boy a tea set this weekend. I've been looking for one for months, but I refused to buy the pink and purple princess sets that abound in toy stores. And buying a porcelain set is just ridiculous when your kid plays hard. So, I've been looking for a manly tea set to buy. Not surprisingly, quite difficult to find. But I kept looking because the Boy likes to make tea for people, and I'm tired of constantly playing with dumptrucks, loaders, diggers, and garbage trucks. I felt we needed to branch out, and I want to encourage any domestic leanings the Boy may have.

If I was really liberal-minded though, I don't suppose it would have mattered whether or not the tea set was pink. And, while I certainly don't hide the fact (very little embarrasses me), I also don't go around the office telling people that I played Tea Party with the Boy last night. Why? I'm not sure. I certainly have no problem with it. I encourage it. If we had a bigger house, I would also buy him a kitchen set with pots and pans. I'm already itching to go back to the toy store and get this miniature microwave that I saw (that's how mummy really cooks anyways).

But in public, sadly, I don't let this show. I buy the Robeez with the fire trucks on them, even if the Boy says he likes the one with the hearts. (Although, he likes a different slipper every other day, so it would be impossible to buy one that he likes for more than 2 seconds.) I second-guess a cute little pastel blue raincoat that I saw because it might be too baby-ish. And when I asked the Boy what sheets he wanted for his soon-to-come Big Boy Bed, and he said "Dora sheets and Boots sheets", I hesitated. I tried to steer him in a different direction. Not because I care if he has Dora sheets or not (whatever keeps him asleep in bed would be fine by me), but because it's a little well...girlie. I would like to add, though, that my main problem with Dora, in particular, is that I don't want to buy anything that is plastered with a ginormous TV brand. I like my purchases to be less obviously commercial. AND it doesn't match my theme of airplanes and clouds from Wall Candy Arts

It seems to me that parents of girls don't face this kind of conundrum. If people see a girl playing with a digger in the sandbox, they smile at her chutzpah. If a boy pushes a tiny stroller with a doll in it around that same park, though, my guess is that many parents would not be as accepting. Granted, these are not people that I want to hang around with, but nor do I want to subject the Boy to unnecessary disapproval. I've already had complete strangers reach into my stroller to pull the thumb out of the Boy's mouth. I was angry enough at that.

But I didn't think I was that...conservative. What would you do? Would you dress the Boy in hearts and flowers and send him out in the world? The reality is that my opinion is not the only one he will encounter. Eventhough he is so young still, the gender compartmentalization has already started. Eventually, one of his little friends will say that "boys don't wear pink" and laugh - it's only a matter of time. Should I knowingly subject him to potential ridicule simply because I disagree with these long-held beliefs? Maybe I should. Maybe I'm setting the wrong example by bowing to popular opinion. But, I also think that if he wants to fight against gender stereotypes, it should be by his choice and not mine. I keep thinking of poor Marcus in About a Boy who was constantly teased because his mother dresses him funny and encourages him to walk the path not taken:


Fiona: When you sing it brings sunshine and happiness into my heart.

(...and when he then wants to sing Killing Me Softly at the school talent show, to please his mum..)

Fiona: He's expressing himself!
Will: No, he's not! He's expressing YOU!


I'm sure there is some middle ground here, but I'm having trouble finding it. So, for now, we keep the manly Tea Parties on home turf. Here, at least, I hope he can find a safe place to explore things that the world still seems to frowns upon. And, while I'm not going to send out any frilly invitations, anyone who wants to join us - without judgment - is most heartily welcome.

A rather drunken looking Tea Party, to be sure, but I was going for an effect here. It didn't work out. You get the picture, though, right?

Keep It Clean

I finally cleaned our shower today, and discovered further evidence that not only should I not be allowed to be a parent, I probably shouldn't be allowed to be an adult either. I'll spare you the gory details, but let's just say that there are things worse than mold...shudder.

I used to clean the bathroom once a week - a thorough clean, top to bottom. Then I had a kid, and I sort of let things slide, you know? In my defense, all the literature supported me. "Don't worry about the messy house, just take care of yourself and the baby." All the baby books and parenting magazines say this, and I guess I took it too much to heart.

I do clean, but it's more reactive than proactive these days. Like when guests are coming over and I decide I don't want people to know how we really live. Or, when I finally see the bathroom in daylight, with my contacts in, and realize that a place where people go to clean themselves shouldn't really be that dirty. The shower gets the butt end of my "lick and a promise" cleaning jobs, though. Theoretically, a place that sees a constant stream of water and soap shouldn't be as dirty as other, um, less delectable parts of the lavatory. I have a (no longer) pink and white scrub brush that would disagree with that theory, however.

The problem is, when I'm faced with the choice of cleaning, or playing with a sweet, laughing, toddler, I invariably choose the latter. My first priority as a mother should be to raise a happy, loving child, and let the household stuff slide for the time being. I'm not a clean freak. I'd much rather build sandcastles that are knocked down by two little hands and a sneaky smile. I'd much rather play hide-and-seek in the bushes, and run down a hill with the wind in my hair. I'd even rather fall on my way up the ladder to the big slide and get a bloody lip. That's life. That's living.

But how long can a person realistically let it go on? How often can you "just let the cleaning go" before someone compares you to Sarah Cynthia Sylvia Stout?? Because the mess doesn't magically go away. No house elves are coming in to pick up after my sorry self. Eventually, someone has to bite the bullet and get down and dirty. By the time I do, the mess is so overwhelming that I just want to run screaming from the house. Or sit down and cry. Or better yet, just walk away and buy a whole new house. A clean house. (Preferably a house with a maid, while we're at it. If you're gonna dream, dream big.)

In Utero

Do you think that you can tell the personality of your baby while still in utero? I've been asking myself this question a lot lately. My initial reaction was absolutely not. A desperate grasping of straws by a hormonal, gestating mamma who can't wait until November to find out who this new person is going to be. Now, I'm not so sure.

This baby just feels different. And, by different - I mean different than the Boy. Of course, I know that Baby Earth is not going to be a carbon copy of the Boy. And it's because I know that AND because this baby feels different, that leads me to question whether or not a person can have some sore of foreshadowing of baby personality in utero.

So far, my eating habits have changed dramatically. Baby Earth lurves spicy food, for one. You can't make a sauce spicy enough for me these days. I may be sweating and coughing, but I won't stop eating it. I will even eat whole chili peppers. Bring it on! In fact, if food is too bland, then I am slightly revolted by it. The Boy In Utero, however, preferred mild combinations of bread and cheese, and came tumbling early into this world due to a last minute decision to have Thai Spicy Noodle for dinner.

Baby Earth is also having me avoid chocolate and Starbucks like the plague! Chocolate and Starbucks!! Two words that could quite possibly be used as Nomo Descriptors - or fifth and sixth food groups. They are things that never fail to make me happier and easier to live with, and I no longer like them. (Don't get me wrong, though, I still eat chocolate. Mamma loves chocolate. Mamma will not be denied chocolate. I just feel slightly ill afterwards, and usually regret it. I haven't been to Starbucks in months, and end up going to Timothy's for a chai latte to soothe the caffeine fix.) I think I avoided caffeine entirely until the 3rd trimester with the Boy, but then still loved my café au laits. I had several early weeks of nausea with the Boy where I avoided chocolate entirely, but after that I ate loads and loads. As far as I'm concerned, the chocolate aversion this time around has gone on too long, and must be stopped.

Plus, this baby is kicking the bejeezus out of me. I've had a lot of people say "oh, you probably just didn't notice it the first time around...". No. I was hyper-aware of movement the first time around, and even ended up in the hospital when I hadn't felt it in a while. The Boy simply did not move much. He was content to stay rather still, and give the occasional kick to remind me of his presence. I'm not surprised he was breech - I think he grew one way and never turned around. At. All. Baby Earth almost never stops kicking (hard), and you can see my belly shake when it happens. (And with all that extra fat, it's not pretty.) A couple of times, I've come close to saying "Hey, cool it man, I'm your mamma - you're supposed to like me!" No dice.

The only thing these two babies seem to have in common is that they both like lemon flavoured drinks. Last time it was store-bought lemonade, and this time it's San Pellegrino Limonata.

So is all this just a slice of what's to come? Do I have a hot tamale who can't sit still on my hands?? And, more importantly, am I going to give birth to a child who doesn't like chocolate?? Please tell me - did your baby behave similarly in and out of the womb? If you have two children, could you feel the differences even while baby #2 was still in utero? Eek.

I'm a Bag Lady

Her Bad Mother, Motherbumbper and Kyla all recently shared the interesting contents of their bags, and I thought it was too good an idea to pass up. Don't expect too much, though. I am admittedly "no Mother Earth", but I'm also "no Yummy Mummy" either. Here's my rather glamourous lifestyle poured out for your voyeuristic pleasure...


THE BAG:




Yes, I probably should be nominated for What Not to Wear for this bag alone. What would Stacey and Clinton say? Probably that I don't look like I care about my job, or looking professional...Well, you hit the nail on the head. And, NO, I don't work for RBC Insurance, thank goodness. This is just the elegant swag that Mr Earth picked up at one of his pension conferences. Since it was better than anything I owned, I appropriated it. I like it because it's stain-proof, zips at the top (during rainstorms), has easy access pockets for snacks, and can fit workout clothes, sippy cups and lunch - all at the same time. I'm a woman on the go!



THE CONTENTS

What does the bag actually contain at this moment?

In the main compartment:

1. A red file folder, for all my VERY important papers (ha, ha!). Right now the "papers" are FitMom handouts, a daily schedule for the Boy (who stayed with my parents recently), and a request form for my gestational diabetes test next week.

2. My latest book - Middlesex, by Jeffrey Eugenides. I haven't had much time to read recently with the Boy being sick, but so far I like it. If a bag can't hold a book, I have no use for it. I never go anywhere without a book.

3. An umbrella, because I hate it when my hair gets wet. I look like a drowned rat.

4. OPI nailpolish in Quarter of a Cent-Cherry. I was hiding it there so that Mr Earth wouldn't find out that I spent another $11.00 on nail polish. Toe polish in the summer is one of my fetishes.

In the mesh pockets (how elegant and refined I am..):

1. Kleenex travel pack. The Boy has a lot of "snoggy" noses.

2. Dental floss in Tutti-Fruitti. My dentist gave me this and I somehow thought it was handy to keep around. I never use it. I like my mint-waxed dental tape at home. Real dental floss gets stuck in my teeth. What do you do when dental floss gets stuck in your teeth?

3. Sunglasses and case. It's way too bright out for my poor peepers.

In the front zipper compartment:

1. A wallet. Yes, I call it a wallet and have no problem with that. I got it for Christmas - my first grown up wallet that holds both coins, bills AND has a place for baby pictures. Before that, I was using a business card holder and a dollar-store change purse.

2. My house key, on an elastic wrist holder. I take a key when I'm running, and I don't like a lot of bulk and I can't stand the jangling noise. Also, we only need one house key for our whole house.

3. The Boy's immunization record. Hey, you never know when you're gonna need it. It's also a handy carrying case for doctor appointment cards, stamps, and my Student ID numbers for York and Ryerson.

4. A metal nail file. The number one reason I get stopped at airports. I'm also prepared if I need to break out of jail. But other than that, I always say that the way to beautiful, long nails is daily filing.

5. Sally Hansen Diamond Strength nail polish in an unnamed pale pink colour. Gives my nails extra protection, and almost looks like I have a french manicure. Or, maybe I'm deluded. But my nails tend to break less, and it's the only "colour" I can stand to have on my fingernails.

6. Not one, but TWO pens. Cause you never know when you're going to have to write down some hot guy's phone number. Um, wait - that's someone else's life...

7. A thick black magic marker - for labelling diapers and wipes that go to daycare.

8. A post-it with a list of books I'd like to buy for the Boy. Written down after reading Miss M's latest book list.

9. Orbit sugarless gum in spearmint. Hands down, the best sugarless gum I've found. Unfortunately, I can't find it in Toronto at all. If anyone knows where to find it, lemme know. I'm down to my last pack and already jonesing for some more. Addicted much?

Don't know what my bag says about me other than that I'm practical and rather unfashionable. Care to pschoanalyze me?

Summer Fever

Time moves sluggishly through the pea soup air,
Heat becomes unbearable, no relief inside or out,
Nowhere to go, it burns
Trapped in a small head, small hands, small feet.
Lay your head on me and I will try:
To make it better,
To make you happy,
To make everything alright.
I will try,
And I will fail.
So I will caress the sweaty hair,
Snuggle the clammy arms,
Smooth the slick legs,
And wish my breath would cool the fever inside.

I'd be rich.

OK, it is waay too hot for me, so maybe I'm just cranky. (Well, cranky-ER. ahem.) I'm pregnant! By the way, YES, that is my excuse for everything these days. I'm going to milk it a s long as I can.

But I swear that if I had a dollar for everytime:

1. Someone said "You can't dye your hair, can you?"

Yes, as a matter of fact, I can. And I plan to dye it as soon as I can scrape together enough pennies to pay the exhorbitant salon fees. I look like crap, and I hate the fact that the roots and ends of my hair are two completely different colours. It is safe to dye your hair when pregnant. It is NOT, however, safe to ingest any of the hair dye. As long as I don't drink the dye, I think I'll be ok.

2. Someone said "You're still running? Doesn't your belly bounce up and down? Is that good for the baby"

Yes, I am still running. It is not only safe, but recommended, to get daily exercise during pregnancy. My belly doesn't "bounce up and down". Well, ok, it actually does, but that's the fat bouncing, not the baby. The baby is in my uterus, not my belly. Any jiggling you see is entirely due the fact that I eat far too much candy.

3. Someone offered me a glass of wine.

Yes, you read that correctly. I would have thought the opposite to be true, but apparently my family are a bunch of winos. It's undoubtedly safe to have a glass of wine now and then. I am sure that in the past, French and Italian women didn't give up wine entirely while pregnant, and yet those countries didn't die out. HOWEVER... I have a strong love of good red wine, and absolutely NO SELF CONTROL. It's bad enough smelling it and not being able to drink it. Think of me as a zoo animal with a sign on my cage and "Please don't offer a drink to the pregnant lady."

4. Someone didn't offer me a seat on the subway.

Yes, you. I see you sitting there, pretending to be asleep or thoroughly engrossed in your blackberry. I know you see me, and I know I look pregnant now, so there is no excuse. Standing for 30 minutes on a subway after a 20 minute walk to daycare in this stifling heat is NO FUN. I feel sick by the time I get to work. And every time I have been offered a seat, it's been a woman. I love men, but sometimes they really suck. Chivalry is dead. I hope some miracle of science happens, and men can get pregnant one day, so they will know how it feels. And I'm not going to offer them my seat. No way. (Crap.. I probably would, because pregnant people shouldn't have to stand. But I wouldn't like it.)

5. My thighs get bigger at the same time my stomach does.

Mr Earth keeps saying that it's ok, that I'm pregnant. I am pregnant, but it's not ok. The baby is not growing in my thighs. If they get any bigger, I am going to be taking up two seats on the subway, instead of one. (Oh yeah, I forgot, I don't get a seat on the subway. No problem then! Let's just hope I don't need to go anywhere by plane, though.)

6. The lady at Mmmmuffins gives me the small Rice Krispie square, instead of the big one.

Now this is just being mean. Why does she go out of her way to give me the smallest one? I'm pregnant, and I'm hungry! Who are you saving the big Rice Krispie square for anyways? (Hm. This attitude would perhaps explain the growth of my thighs.)

7. Someone asks "How are you feeling?"

OK, now I know that people are just trying to be nice, so I try not to get annoyed by this. But if you hear this question often enough, you start feeling like an invalid, or someone who is dying from some rare disease but doesn't know it yet. It's a little creepy. And I really wish people would come up with something different. I'll start you off: "Would you like a massage?"..."Has anyone told you how beautiful you are?"..."Can I buy you some presents?" Any of these would be perfectly acceptable and immeasurably better than "How are you feeling?"


Like I said, if I had a dollar for each and every time one of these things happened, I'd be rich. Then I could hire me a fan-bearer, and maybe I wouldn't be so stinkin' hot.