I have been the Queen Bitch of the Universe today, largely because I've got too much freaking work to do and unlike many women in the universe today, I say no. No, no time for you today; we can discuss tomorrow. No, sorry. No. My boss called this morning to discuss my attitude problem. No, I don't care that people might find it brusque when I say no. I guess I should be saying "No thank you" to be polite.
I am waiting on other people's stuff, so now I have time to blog (and pet the small black cat who just now got out of bed--the life of a cat). I have requested 12 weeks maternity leave and the nice birth center is faxing in my "yes she's pregnant" form to HR today.
Hopefully the workplace will start to realize that I'm not just going on a holiday jaunt to Mommyville and will be back a week or two after birth. The intelligent thing to do would be to hire someone (or three) to take up the 563 project hours I still have left to go in June, but I'm sure that'll be considered crazy talk.
The super news of the day is that our favorite Navy pilot will be heading to sunny San Diego for helicopter training, yay! We're excited.
Wednesday, May 31, 2006
Tuesday, May 30, 2006
Memorial Weekend Baby Blog Recap
We had a great weekend. Coming off the high of finding a great pediatrician, we did baby stuff. As a tangent, here is a great picture of one of the coyotes that live in our canyon, as well as a picture of the beastie who lives in our house to scare off the coyotes.
He's pretty vicious-looking, isn't he? The coyotes really do run away when they see him in the window.
We have now acquired the following items for the baby:
No birth class tonight as a carry over from Memorial Day, so I just have to get my maternity leave worked out. Apparently I could take off at 36 weeks, but I don't think we're going to be able to do that. Harumph.
He's pretty vicious-looking, isn't he? The coyotes really do run away when they see him in the window.
We have now acquired the following items for the baby:
- Side-snap T-shirts for awkward umbilical cord period after the baby's birth, Carter's, not Gerber. These were found at the outlets literally at the border. The directions said, "Exit when you see the LAST EXIT IN USA sign."
- Onesies and sleepers to get us through the first month. The woman at the counter looked at the greens, yellows, whites, and multicolored stripes and said, "You must not know what you're having." Can I mention how hard it is to find gender neutral clothes? Want blue without a football? Too bad.
Purple without pink flowers? Not happening. Aren't babies cute enough without the appliques? I feel like the little cutesy-crap is distracting from the cuteness I'm sure will be inherent in this child. - Pack N Play in Sand Dollar, modeled here by the Wonder Twins. The bassinet feature, demonstrated by our odd-eyed super model, will give the kid a place to sleep while we're figuring out if this child inherited Mistah C's charming disposition or my colicky one and buying the crib, co-sleeper, or baby hammock appropriate to soothing the child. Our swarthy dark handsome model is showing the diaper changer, which secures with extra snaps.
- Baby towels
- Baby first aid kit
- Baby nail clippers
No birth class tonight as a carry over from Memorial Day, so I just have to get my maternity leave worked out. Apparently I could take off at 36 weeks, but I don't think we're going to be able to do that. Harumph.
Blog angst
I had a lovely post this morning, with pictures and everything, and it disappeared into the black hole that is our incredibly sucky DSL. So that'll have to wait until I have the tenacity to re-write it.
The latest great news is that I can have 18 weeks of maternity leave. 18 weeks, wow!
The latest great news is that I can have 18 weeks of maternity leave. 18 weeks, wow!
Saturday, May 27, 2006
Pediatrician Interview
We're zooming along so it's time to figure out who will be looking after this kid during the extensive doctor visits and checkups that are ahead. Since we're giving birth in the birth center, we have to get a pediatrician lined up to do the first full-blown medical exam in the day or two after birth. The birth center does the normal delivery tests but does not do the day-after exam (although they do send a nurse to the house the day after the birth to check on recovery from birth).
I had gotten some recommendations and finally picked one to interview who was board-certified and relatively close to home. Happily, C's workplace of joy decided to send everyone home on a half-day on Friday (even if they didn't want to catch the free showing of The Da Vinci Code) so he was able to make the appointment, which was unanticipated and great.
There's nothing that makes me feel quite so much out of my depth than interviewing a pediatrician. There's not really a good way to ask questions about the doctor's philosophy of health care, vaccinations, circumcision, breastfeeding, antibiotics, etc. without asking leading questions. Happily, she volunteered a lot of that information so I didn't feel like she was just saying what would make me happy. She's got two young kids herself and she breastfed them (for more than six months), so both of those things make me comfortable. She also didn't blanch when the birth center was mentioned, so that upped her credibility with me.
The cool factor: her office-mate was a medical advisor for the X-Files and would review their scripts. How cool is that for your local pediatrician?
I have an appointment with another not-quite-so-highly recommended pediatrician, but I'm probably going to cancel at this point because we were both very comfortable and pleased with this one. June is filled with doctor visits: the prenatal checkups, the dentist, and the orthodontist, so I don't think I need to spend time on a doctor I would have to be just amazingly wowed to use. She would probably have to give away gold bricks to be better.
Other news: we went to get a Pack-n-Play last night after dinner and the one on display was a model year earlier than the other ones we'd been looking at. This means there were no snaps and straps to secure the changing table to the playpen, which gave us pause from a safety perspective. So now we're re-visiting the Pack-n-Play issue (again) this weekend because we want it to be safe but would hope that it wasn't hideous. This poor child is going to sleep in a cardboard box when we get it home - happily, we have those already.
I had gotten some recommendations and finally picked one to interview who was board-certified and relatively close to home. Happily, C's workplace of joy decided to send everyone home on a half-day on Friday (even if they didn't want to catch the free showing of The Da Vinci Code) so he was able to make the appointment, which was unanticipated and great.
There's nothing that makes me feel quite so much out of my depth than interviewing a pediatrician. There's not really a good way to ask questions about the doctor's philosophy of health care, vaccinations, circumcision, breastfeeding, antibiotics, etc. without asking leading questions. Happily, she volunteered a lot of that information so I didn't feel like she was just saying what would make me happy. She's got two young kids herself and she breastfed them (for more than six months), so both of those things make me comfortable. She also didn't blanch when the birth center was mentioned, so that upped her credibility with me.
The cool factor: her office-mate was a medical advisor for the X-Files and would review their scripts. How cool is that for your local pediatrician?
I have an appointment with another not-quite-so-highly recommended pediatrician, but I'm probably going to cancel at this point because we were both very comfortable and pleased with this one. June is filled with doctor visits: the prenatal checkups, the dentist, and the orthodontist, so I don't think I need to spend time on a doctor I would have to be just amazingly wowed to use. She would probably have to give away gold bricks to be better.
Other news: we went to get a Pack-n-Play last night after dinner and the one on display was a model year earlier than the other ones we'd been looking at. This means there were no snaps and straps to secure the changing table to the playpen, which gave us pause from a safety perspective. So now we're re-visiting the Pack-n-Play issue (again) this weekend because we want it to be safe but would hope that it wasn't hideous. This poor child is going to sleep in a cardboard box when we get it home - happily, we have those already.
Thursday, May 25, 2006
Standard Prenatal Visit, Week 31
There was a long wait this morning for my appointment. Oy.
The GTT came back negative, so good news there, plus they checked my iron levels while they had my blood and I'm good for iron as well. Protein, glucose, and blood pressure readings are all fine. Fetal heart rate is 140-150 bpm. Fundal height was 31 cm, which is exactly where we should be for 31 weeks.
The midwife I've been seeing the most is leaving the birth center before I give birth, so that was a little disconcerting. She's leaving to go to another hospital without 24 hour on-call duties so she can have the reliable time to raise kids, so I can respect that. She hopes to be back at the birth center in a couple years. I met the midwife who is taking her place and she seems friendly. The new midwife will probably still be in an orientation period when I'm due which means I might end up with two midwives for the birth, which is great for me.
Oh, and we tried to figure out if the kid was head down, but the head's not big enough to feel yet. However, due to where I'm being kicked (higher on my side than lower), we think the kid is probably head down. Most kids are head down by 32 weeks, so the next visit should be more informative.
The GTT came back negative, so good news there, plus they checked my iron levels while they had my blood and I'm good for iron as well. Protein, glucose, and blood pressure readings are all fine. Fetal heart rate is 140-150 bpm. Fundal height was 31 cm, which is exactly where we should be for 31 weeks.
The midwife I've been seeing the most is leaving the birth center before I give birth, so that was a little disconcerting. She's leaving to go to another hospital without 24 hour on-call duties so she can have the reliable time to raise kids, so I can respect that. She hopes to be back at the birth center in a couple years. I met the midwife who is taking her place and she seems friendly. The new midwife will probably still be in an orientation period when I'm due which means I might end up with two midwives for the birth, which is great for me.
Oh, and we tried to figure out if the kid was head down, but the head's not big enough to feel yet. However, due to where I'm being kicked (higher on my side than lower), we think the kid is probably head down. Most kids are head down by 32 weeks, so the next visit should be more informative.
Wednesday, May 24, 2006
Bradley Class #8, um, #7 extended
Last night's class was once again refreshing. The class is getting more comfortable with each other. We had two birth stories, both of which were uplifting "I did it without drugs in a hospital" stories, although the common theme about giving birth in a hospital without standard interventions seems to be get there as late in labor as possible, completely dilated, so nobody has time to do anything to you.
The funniest comment of the night was from the guy who is a California State Highway Patrolman on giving his wife a heparin lock during labor. Heparin locks are IV needles stuck in your arm or hand that are not attached to tubing. They're better than a conventional IV because you're not tethered, but you still have a needle stuck in your arm when you've got better things to worry about. The nurses wanted to give his (fully-dilated and pushing) wife a heparin lock "just in case" she needed something, and he said, "No, I've seen enough strung-out, neurotic people come into emergency rooms who you give IVs to just fine. She's just a woman in labor. She'll be no problem." After my time in the ER, I have to agree. It was probably most compelling coming from a guy who looks like he could stunt double for Bruce Willis in Die Hard.
Little sparks of controversy happened when we started discussing AFP tests. Jan assumed we would all pass on the AFP test because "those tests are done to determine whether or not people will abort." I had an AFP test, and it wasn't because I would abort. We agonized over the AFP test, both about whether or not to take it and what the results were once we did. Eventually, we decided that since I have a sister who has Down's and was born with some pretty serious (read: life-threatening) birth defects, it was important to get an AFP to see if further (more invasive, more risky) testing was indicated. As much I want to give birth in the birth center and avoid a hospital birth, if we had any indication that the kid required an intensive neo-natal unit, we would switch to the hospital with the best neo-natal facilities in town. Happily, our AFP came back negative. It's not a guarantee of a 100% healthy baby, but it meant that I felt like I was making the responsible choice by passing on amnio. The risk/benefit ratio was just too out of whack at that point.
I didn't talk about all that in class, but I did find out that a couple of people in class have learning disability connections: one of the women in our class who is a kindergarten teacher has her specialty in Special Ed but needs to finish her CA certification before she can teach Special Ed here, and one of the men's mom was a lifelong Special Ed teacher (recently retired). It's interesting what you end up having in common with people.
Class 8 is supposed to be medical interventions in labor, but we still have the last set of vocabulary words to go through from Class 7. I haven't even looked to see what Class 9 is. We've got no class next week for the Memorial Day holiday.
The funniest comment of the night was from the guy who is a California State Highway Patrolman on giving his wife a heparin lock during labor. Heparin locks are IV needles stuck in your arm or hand that are not attached to tubing. They're better than a conventional IV because you're not tethered, but you still have a needle stuck in your arm when you've got better things to worry about. The nurses wanted to give his (fully-dilated and pushing) wife a heparin lock "just in case" she needed something, and he said, "No, I've seen enough strung-out, neurotic people come into emergency rooms who you give IVs to just fine. She's just a woman in labor. She'll be no problem." After my time in the ER, I have to agree. It was probably most compelling coming from a guy who looks like he could stunt double for Bruce Willis in Die Hard.
Little sparks of controversy happened when we started discussing AFP tests. Jan assumed we would all pass on the AFP test because "those tests are done to determine whether or not people will abort." I had an AFP test, and it wasn't because I would abort. We agonized over the AFP test, both about whether or not to take it and what the results were once we did. Eventually, we decided that since I have a sister who has Down's and was born with some pretty serious (read: life-threatening) birth defects, it was important to get an AFP to see if further (more invasive, more risky) testing was indicated. As much I want to give birth in the birth center and avoid a hospital birth, if we had any indication that the kid required an intensive neo-natal unit, we would switch to the hospital with the best neo-natal facilities in town. Happily, our AFP came back negative. It's not a guarantee of a 100% healthy baby, but it meant that I felt like I was making the responsible choice by passing on amnio. The risk/benefit ratio was just too out of whack at that point.
I didn't talk about all that in class, but I did find out that a couple of people in class have learning disability connections: one of the women in our class who is a kindergarten teacher has her specialty in Special Ed but needs to finish her CA certification before she can teach Special Ed here, and one of the men's mom was a lifelong Special Ed teacher (recently retired). It's interesting what you end up having in common with people.
Class 8 is supposed to be medical interventions in labor, but we still have the last set of vocabulary words to go through from Class 7. I haven't even looked to see what Class 9 is. We've got no class next week for the Memorial Day holiday.
Tuesday, May 23, 2006
Everything's breaking
Today is a bitch, bitch, bitch day. I have been up and down the stairs at least 12 times this morning to reset the stupid DSL, so God knows if I'll have enough connectivity to post this. C's car broke down in the Whole Foods parking lot Sunday (thanks to J&T who came to save me and my frozen organic mac and cheese); the DSL is breaking today, so now I'm just wondering what else is going to go wrong. Maybe the dryer breaking last month was enough and that makes the "things come in threes" rule complete.
I don't have any baby news. I saw a co-worker of mine and his fam last night; they're on vacation in sunny SoCal and we met for dinner. His wife is currently pregnant with their fourth (fourth!) child; she's due in September. They were the first people who visited and didn't say, "Gosh, you don't look that pregnant," so the belly is getting larger.
Baby acquisitions: We bought some blankets, towels, and washcloths last weekend but could not locate non-Gerber side-snap T-shirts. I'm beginning to think side-snap T-shirts not made by Gerber don't exist, but I think we'll head to the Carter's outlet and take a look again now that we are on the lookout for side-snap T-shirts. Gerber apparently makes crappy clothes.
Oh, my co-worker (who is not the most suave person I've ever worked with) just had to point out my shock of gray hair, which I've had since I was 20 but have restrained myself from coloring with the pregnancy (which I thought was the big tell at Christmas, but apparently not). Maybe I'll just have to get it dyed since we're at 30+ weeks and I know people bleach, color, and tint all the way through their pregnancies. I'm not usually someone who lets vanity win, but maybe the taunting pushed me over an edge.
I can't believe it's already 11AM. Oy.
I don't have any baby news. I saw a co-worker of mine and his fam last night; they're on vacation in sunny SoCal and we met for dinner. His wife is currently pregnant with their fourth (fourth!) child; she's due in September. They were the first people who visited and didn't say, "Gosh, you don't look that pregnant," so the belly is getting larger.
Baby acquisitions: We bought some blankets, towels, and washcloths last weekend but could not locate non-Gerber side-snap T-shirts. I'm beginning to think side-snap T-shirts not made by Gerber don't exist, but I think we'll head to the Carter's outlet and take a look again now that we are on the lookout for side-snap T-shirts. Gerber apparently makes crappy clothes.
Oh, my co-worker (who is not the most suave person I've ever worked with) just had to point out my shock of gray hair, which I've had since I was 20 but have restrained myself from coloring with the pregnancy (which I thought was the big tell at Christmas, but apparently not). Maybe I'll just have to get it dyed since we're at 30+ weeks and I know people bleach, color, and tint all the way through their pregnancies. I'm not usually someone who lets vanity win, but maybe the taunting pushed me over an edge.
I can't believe it's already 11AM. Oy.
Friday, May 19, 2006
Happy Independence Day!
It's the (old my gosh) ten year anniversary of my graduating from college today. La ti da. No, I am not heading to Reunion this year, maybe in another 15 years or so. I'm all about the future, baby (as opposed to being about the future baby).
We'll do a little Friday after noon mailbag Q & A:
Q. How are you doing/feeling?
A. Fine.
Q. How are you really doing/feeling?
A. Fine. I'm not trying to be difficult, evasive or overly polite, but I'm really fine. I haven't had horrible aches and pains; I've been sleeping well for the most part. I have some heartburn after I eat tomato sauce so I'm only having tomato sauce with a Tums chaser. I get tired more easily. But I'm not huge enough to be horribly uncomfortable yet.
Q. Can you feel the baby's head or butt yet?
A. I'm not savvy enough to differentiate anything but the kid's back/torso yet. This next week we'll be trying to determine the kid's position, so if I get any insight, I'll share.
Q. How did your GTT go?
A. No idea. Haven't heard, but it took a long time for the AFP to come back. I'm assuming it's a "no news is good news" kind of thing. I still have the last bits of a nasty-ass bruise they gave me from taking the blood - but that usually happens on my left arm.
Q. Are you having any cravings?
A. No, which surprises me because I usually in normal life have a craving from time to time. I'm thinking the craving thing is a scam by less assertive pregnant women. I am a lot of things, but unassertive is not one of them.
Q. How much weight have you gained?
A. None of your business, that's how much. My CNM says the kid looks good and healthy.
Q. Are you going to find out what gender it is?
A. Well, yes. At birth.
Q. Do you have names yet?
A. Yes, my name is Kim, and my husband came with his own, which meant I didn't have to share mine or register for one during our wedding. Oh, you meant the kid. We are waiting to see what the kid looks like when it's born.
Q. How is the nursery going? What colors are you doing?
A. We live in a rental, so there is no painting. We're currently in "by the seat of our pants" method of parenting where we figure out what to do with the kid once it gets here. Right now all the colors we're picking are bright gender-neutral ones.
We'll do a little Friday after noon mailbag Q & A:
Q. How are you doing/feeling?
A. Fine.
Q. How are you really doing/feeling?
A. Fine. I'm not trying to be difficult, evasive or overly polite, but I'm really fine. I haven't had horrible aches and pains; I've been sleeping well for the most part. I have some heartburn after I eat tomato sauce so I'm only having tomato sauce with a Tums chaser. I get tired more easily. But I'm not huge enough to be horribly uncomfortable yet.
Q. Can you feel the baby's head or butt yet?
A. I'm not savvy enough to differentiate anything but the kid's back/torso yet. This next week we'll be trying to determine the kid's position, so if I get any insight, I'll share.
Q. How did your GTT go?
A. No idea. Haven't heard, but it took a long time for the AFP to come back. I'm assuming it's a "no news is good news" kind of thing. I still have the last bits of a nasty-ass bruise they gave me from taking the blood - but that usually happens on my left arm.
Q. Are you having any cravings?
A. No, which surprises me because I usually in normal life have a craving from time to time. I'm thinking the craving thing is a scam by less assertive pregnant women. I am a lot of things, but unassertive is not one of them.
Q. How much weight have you gained?
A. None of your business, that's how much. My CNM says the kid looks good and healthy.
Q. Are you going to find out what gender it is?
A. Well, yes. At birth.
Q. Do you have names yet?
A. Yes, my name is Kim, and my husband came with his own, which meant I didn't have to share mine or register for one during our wedding. Oh, you meant the kid. We are waiting to see what the kid looks like when it's born.
Q. How is the nursery going? What colors are you doing?
A. We live in a rental, so there is no painting. We're currently in "by the seat of our pants" method of parenting where we figure out what to do with the kid once it gets here. Right now all the colors we're picking are bright gender-neutral ones.
Wednesday, May 17, 2006
Bradley Class #7: Planning Your Birth
Class last night was better than I expected, although I'm the only nerdy girl who did all the homework. Last week we had two assignments: one was to define a list of terms relating to birth and the other was to write up what you imagine happening day of birth.
My terms were pretty easy to define, although I will out Mistah C here and say that he had a programming error in execution of his homework. (See, I am not one of those women in class who did the assignment for her husband. He has to do his own homework - not that he would expect me to.) He and his partner divided the list into odds and evens. C had the evens, but he started counting his list with zero instead of one and as such he and his partner defined all the same terms. This was pretty funny. At least Mistah C had lots of good statistics to back up his information.
We spent the class with each person (completely out of sequence to accommodate the two gentlemen who will not be there next week) defining their terms and having a discussion about them. It was a good, lively discussion because everything mentioned was controversial: induction of labor, circumcision, Vitamin K shots, eye ointment treatments right after birth. I like lively discussion.
I was the only one who had done a birth story. I had such a hard time with it that it gave me a headache. I don't like playing "let's pretend" with the whole birth thing; I'm trying very hard to curb my over-planning tendencies to adopt a "go with the flow" attitude for birth. Imagining is partially for me starting to set expectations. At this point, I feel like I'm as educated as I can be on terms, procedures, and techniques, so it's not like writing a birth story will uncover new fun facts for me. I don't think visualization works as a technique here because I find visualization only works with repetitive tasks and I can't practice birth. It's just a tool for figuring out what you haven't thought of, but I really think a lot about this stuff.
Our birth story was very general and non-specific as a result, with no triumphant ending of, "And we held darling Bluto/Beatrix in our arms and wept with joy." Maybe it's easier when you know the gender and have tied all those expectations to the kid already, but we're still waiting to see what happens.
Speaking of expectations, I've been thinking about the effect that gender has on your expectations. It would probably make the shopping easier, but I like having a complete stranger moving in. Plus I've got one of the most non-sexist yet chivalrous husbands on the planet so I'm not concerned about fighting the ill-effects of my spouse. I'm talking about those men in the universe who talk a great game but do very little to fight actual sexism, like those who spout, "You can be President someday, honey!" at their daughters while their wife clears the table of all the food she has shopped for, prepared, and will now clean up and put away. "Now why don't you bring Daddy something to drink?"
I've read recently of a fun psych experiment you can do with your kid that we're going to do (surprise, Mistah C!) at some point. Regardless of gender, take a kid out somewhere public dressed as a boy. The comments will probably be: "What a little bruiser!" and "He's so strong!" You can take the same kid out dressed as a girl and get the, "Oh, how pretty!" "How sweet!" "How quiet!" "So delicate," comments. We'll do a couple control experiments when the kid is a couple months old and then we'll do it again when the kid's eighteen. That should make for a good college entry essay (and grist for therapy, yay therapy!).
One more thing: Bluto and Beatrix are the stand-in names we use when talking about the kid to other people; they are not the actual names in contention. We're just not naming the kid until we see what the kid looks like. Could the kid look like a Bluto or Beatrix? Hmm, good question.
My terms were pretty easy to define, although I will out Mistah C here and say that he had a programming error in execution of his homework. (See, I am not one of those women in class who did the assignment for her husband. He has to do his own homework - not that he would expect me to.) He and his partner divided the list into odds and evens. C had the evens, but he started counting his list with zero instead of one and as such he and his partner defined all the same terms. This was pretty funny. At least Mistah C had lots of good statistics to back up his information.
We spent the class with each person (completely out of sequence to accommodate the two gentlemen who will not be there next week) defining their terms and having a discussion about them. It was a good, lively discussion because everything mentioned was controversial: induction of labor, circumcision, Vitamin K shots, eye ointment treatments right after birth. I like lively discussion.
I was the only one who had done a birth story. I had such a hard time with it that it gave me a headache. I don't like playing "let's pretend" with the whole birth thing; I'm trying very hard to curb my over-planning tendencies to adopt a "go with the flow" attitude for birth. Imagining is partially for me starting to set expectations. At this point, I feel like I'm as educated as I can be on terms, procedures, and techniques, so it's not like writing a birth story will uncover new fun facts for me. I don't think visualization works as a technique here because I find visualization only works with repetitive tasks and I can't practice birth. It's just a tool for figuring out what you haven't thought of, but I really think a lot about this stuff.
Our birth story was very general and non-specific as a result, with no triumphant ending of, "And we held darling Bluto/Beatrix in our arms and wept with joy." Maybe it's easier when you know the gender and have tied all those expectations to the kid already, but we're still waiting to see what happens.
Speaking of expectations, I've been thinking about the effect that gender has on your expectations. It would probably make the shopping easier, but I like having a complete stranger moving in. Plus I've got one of the most non-sexist yet chivalrous husbands on the planet so I'm not concerned about fighting the ill-effects of my spouse. I'm talking about those men in the universe who talk a great game but do very little to fight actual sexism, like those who spout, "You can be President someday, honey!" at their daughters while their wife clears the table of all the food she has shopped for, prepared, and will now clean up and put away. "Now why don't you bring Daddy something to drink?"
I've read recently of a fun psych experiment you can do with your kid that we're going to do (surprise, Mistah C!) at some point. Regardless of gender, take a kid out somewhere public dressed as a boy. The comments will probably be: "What a little bruiser!" and "He's so strong!" You can take the same kid out dressed as a girl and get the, "Oh, how pretty!" "How sweet!" "How quiet!" "So delicate," comments. We'll do a couple control experiments when the kid is a couple months old and then we'll do it again when the kid's eighteen. That should make for a good college entry essay (and grist for therapy, yay therapy!).
One more thing: Bluto and Beatrix are the stand-in names we use when talking about the kid to other people; they are not the actual names in contention. We're just not naming the kid until we see what the kid looks like. Could the kid look like a Bluto or Beatrix? Hmm, good question.
Tuesday, May 16, 2006
The Braces Are Coming Off.
Glory be, the braces are coming off June 19th. Get the Skor bars and the crusty bread and the pizza crusts ready.
Monday, May 15, 2006
Wowie Zowie!
Yes, it's work-related; just cope. My boss has taken a new job, woo hoo. It's been a long time since I thought she should get herself a new job so I'm pleased that it's happened for her. It's a new position someone higher up who noticed how good she is created for her specifically, which is the perfect job for anyone.
She's leaving in three weeks, which then gives me two months maximum before the kid comes where I'll be in managerial limbo. I'm honestly not concerned at this point and I can only imagine that as we get closer to B-day I will become even less concerned with the politics at work.
She's leaving in three weeks, which then gives me two months maximum before the kid comes where I'll be in managerial limbo. I'm honestly not concerned at this point and I can only imagine that as we get closer to B-day I will become even less concerned with the politics at work.
Sunday, May 14, 2006
We regrouped!
This has been a long day, but we decided on a Pack N Play. It is the Parker (lovely gender neutral blue and yellow) and you can all ogle it here, you looky-loos. We have not bought it but just making a decision is a huge step forward. It took us four years to buy a couch; we would have waffled longer on color but we probably need to pick this before the child enters kindergarten. We'll probably savor the decision making for a while before purchasing.
The other happiness in my day is that Mistah C re-assembled our bed today so that I no longer have to pole-vault into the bed at night. The top of the bed was about hip height for me (I am short, but jeez, I was going to get a stepladder or something soon). Although I know preggos have a tendency to get sore lower backs, I thought maybe hoisting myself into bed every night (and every bio break during the night) was part of the problem. We'll see if having the bed at a lower altitude helps.
Kid news: the kid is big enough that it is pressing against my rib cage from time to time now. I described it to the Boy like having something stuck between your teeth, except stuck in your rib cage. Quite odd. The kid is spending an awful lot of time on my right side, so we're making it watch The Daily Show and read The New Yorker until it gets more left-leaning. No, just kidding. Republicans have a lot of money and generally only want to buy white babies, so we'll make a mint on a little right winger. Oh wait, just kidding again.
The other happiness in my day is that Mistah C re-assembled our bed today so that I no longer have to pole-vault into the bed at night. The top of the bed was about hip height for me (I am short, but jeez, I was going to get a stepladder or something soon). Although I know preggos have a tendency to get sore lower backs, I thought maybe hoisting myself into bed every night (and every bio break during the night) was part of the problem. We'll see if having the bed at a lower altitude helps.
Kid news: the kid is big enough that it is pressing against my rib cage from time to time now. I described it to the Boy like having something stuck between your teeth, except stuck in your rib cage. Quite odd. The kid is spending an awful lot of time on my right side, so we're making it watch The Daily Show and read The New Yorker until it gets more left-leaning. No, just kidding. Republicans have a lot of money and generally only want to buy white babies, so we'll make a mint on a little right winger. Oh wait, just kidding again.
Foiled Again!
We ended up back at the baby superstore yesterday to buy a Pack-n-Play and we just were not excited by any of the models. No cool fabrics, blah color combinations, nothing that floated our boat. So we're regrouping.
Friday, May 12, 2006
Baby Product Showcase Showdown
The Boy left for E3 this morning before 0600. I wanted to have breakfast with him before he left since I couldn't have breakfast with him yesterday due to the whole fasting thing. I'm tired, but it's not because of the nap monster.
Finding a Bjorn for the Boy made me jealous that he has a new baby-related toy and I don't, so I actively researched (aka, surfed the 'net) slings, wraps, pouches, and other types of carriers this week. The variety is bewildering. Some of them sound like fruity drinks - the mei tai? Some of them look like you need a Boy Scout badge in knot-tying to get the kid secured, or that you should have been raised as an Indian woman with many saris to be able to get it on.
I've decided on a pouch-style carrier for ease of use. (Part of having a baby is becoming inoculated against the cutesy-wootsy naming crapola that babies seem to inspire.) For your browsing pleasure: right now, the Peanut Shell is winning on the basis of the less complicated sizing; I might consider a Hotsling later once the kid is out and I am no longer increasing in size. The doula who has been coming to our birth classes showed us a Adjustable Fleece Kangaroo Karrier that looked great but maybe it's too warm for August. Their web site has mixed messages about ordering ahead of time versus not ordering ahead of time. They get bonus points for acknowledging that pregnant people like to buy stuff for the baby ahead of time and will allow you to return it after the kid's born (as long as it's not covered in puke or poop), so maybe I'll reward that with my business.
Other baby product research: The next big purchase will be a Pack-and-Play portable playpen with bassinet and changing table. Since I did not take notes Sunday when Mistah C rattled and shook all the units on display in the baby superstore, I cannot give you a specific model to look at. It won't be an Evenflo or an oval-shaped one.
Btw, we are increasingly disturbed that nobody else seems to be road-testing the models in the store. We saw three couples on Sunday with their little scanner gun and all of them seemed to pick a playpen on the basis of looks. We take the item off the little display shelf, shake it like mad, try to take it apart and put it back together again. That seems like a no-brainer when purchasing an item your child is going to sleep in. Nobody else even touched the stupid things; it looked like they were selecting on color: brown plaid, sage green toile, or bright blocks of primary colors?
Maybe we're just anal. I have yet to find my people in a baby superstore. They're probably at home whittling their own cribs from their own home-grown lumber and weaving their own crib sheets from their organically-fed free-range sheep's wool to avoid feeding the baby consumer machine. This is California, you know.
Finding a Bjorn for the Boy made me jealous that he has a new baby-related toy and I don't, so I actively researched (aka, surfed the 'net) slings, wraps, pouches, and other types of carriers this week. The variety is bewildering. Some of them sound like fruity drinks - the mei tai? Some of them look like you need a Boy Scout badge in knot-tying to get the kid secured, or that you should have been raised as an Indian woman with many saris to be able to get it on.
I've decided on a pouch-style carrier for ease of use. (Part of having a baby is becoming inoculated against the cutesy-wootsy naming crapola that babies seem to inspire.) For your browsing pleasure: right now, the Peanut Shell is winning on the basis of the less complicated sizing; I might consider a Hotsling later once the kid is out and I am no longer increasing in size. The doula who has been coming to our birth classes showed us a Adjustable Fleece Kangaroo Karrier that looked great but maybe it's too warm for August. Their web site has mixed messages about ordering ahead of time versus not ordering ahead of time. They get bonus points for acknowledging that pregnant people like to buy stuff for the baby ahead of time and will allow you to return it after the kid's born (as long as it's not covered in puke or poop), so maybe I'll reward that with my business.
Other baby product research: The next big purchase will be a Pack-and-Play portable playpen with bassinet and changing table. Since I did not take notes Sunday when Mistah C rattled and shook all the units on display in the baby superstore, I cannot give you a specific model to look at. It won't be an Evenflo or an oval-shaped one.
Btw, we are increasingly disturbed that nobody else seems to be road-testing the models in the store. We saw three couples on Sunday with their little scanner gun and all of them seemed to pick a playpen on the basis of looks. We take the item off the little display shelf, shake it like mad, try to take it apart and put it back together again. That seems like a no-brainer when purchasing an item your child is going to sleep in. Nobody else even touched the stupid things; it looked like they were selecting on color: brown plaid, sage green toile, or bright blocks of primary colors?
Maybe we're just anal. I have yet to find my people in a baby superstore. They're probably at home whittling their own cribs from their own home-grown lumber and weaving their own crib sheets from their organically-fed free-range sheep's wool to avoid feeding the baby consumer machine. This is California, you know.
Thursday, May 11, 2006
Prenatal Checkups: Now Every Two Weeks
Today was my GTT. The whole glucola thing is overhyped. It tastes like Orange Crush, maybe a little sweeter, but not disgustingly so. The fasting is worse; I miss my tea and toast in the morning.
The prenatal visit was fast, fast, fast. Mistah C dropped me off at the Birth Center and took off to find me some decent high-protein food (Kafir shake and Odwalla) and I was in to see Sarah before any time had passed. I didn't even open a magazine. Bronchitis fine, blood pressure fine, fundal height fine, baby's heartrate fine, weight fine, urine fine. Then I had two vials of blood taken, scheduled an appointment in two weeks, and that was it. I went out to the waiting room and lo and behold, Mistah C is there waiting for me, looking like he's waiting for me to come back from the typical pre-visit urine test and weigh-in. "I'm done!" I say and we leave.
Compared to how worried I was about the AFP test, I didn't even ask when my test results for the GTT would come back. I'd be surprised at this point if I have gestational diabetes, so I guess I'm just not concerned.
The prenatal visit was fast, fast, fast. Mistah C dropped me off at the Birth Center and took off to find me some decent high-protein food (Kafir shake and Odwalla) and I was in to see Sarah before any time had passed. I didn't even open a magazine. Bronchitis fine, blood pressure fine, fundal height fine, baby's heartrate fine, weight fine, urine fine. Then I had two vials of blood taken, scheduled an appointment in two weeks, and that was it. I went out to the waiting room and lo and behold, Mistah C is there waiting for me, looking like he's waiting for me to come back from the typical pre-visit urine test and weigh-in. "I'm done!" I say and we leave.
Compared to how worried I was about the AFP test, I didn't even ask when my test results for the GTT would come back. I'd be surprised at this point if I have gestational diabetes, so I guess I'm just not concerned.
Wednesday, May 10, 2006
Bradley Class #6: Intro to Second Stage Labor
It's early here and if that wasn't enough of a tip-off for you that I might be cranky today, I could paint a picture of one small white cat knocking everything off every high surface in this room to better grab my attention, my being unable to find the cat sprayer to convince him that this was not how he wanted to grab my attention, and finally locking him out of the room I am in because I can't find the sprayer and I don't have the patience to deal with cat + gravity yet today.
Class last night was a grand improvement over the last class. Second stage labor means "the part where you push and the baby comes out." We watched a birth film which made six water births look pretty easy, although I did not care for the New Age-happy music that swelled dramatically after each birth. It was a step away from the pop songs during the credits of Japanese animation. Water births make me wonder when you get to shower, though. Even regular baths leave me feeling like I need a quick rinse; with all the stuff that comes out with a kid, I would want a shower.
I also have a hard time with the "practice" exercises. I have a hard time imaging what a contraction is going to feel like, but since it's the contraction of involuntary muscle, I'm sure it'll be different than tightening up any voluntary muscle in my body and relaxing it. I have mastered the squat enough that I don't like to be leaning on the Boy during a squat; it throws my balance off. It'll be different when there's a kid coming out, I'm sure.
There was another couple with a new baby for show-and-tell last night as well. These people were much more interesting and easy to follow. There was no three-year-old and the baby's daddy was right there (I'm sorry, but that did make it easier to relate). The mother was much more linear and articulate than the previous mother; the father quite pleased and smitten with the kid. The baby was five weeks old and cute. This mom went into labor about 7 days early at her baby shower, which is funny, really.
The father was so filled with fun facts, "Hey men, this woman will not be your wife. Just don't think of her that way for that one day. She's going to say things that you just have to remember, she's not your wife. Oh, and bring a change of clothes, maybe two. Oh, and be prepared early." Yeah, we probably need to get some place for the kid to sleep.
The mom was able to talk coherently not just about the birth, but also about breastfeeding, co-sleeping, slings and the like. She even talked about being at home alone with the kid and being lonely after the baby's dad went back to work. I asked her how long it had taken her to become an adept nursing mom, and she laughed (like she didn't feel adept) and said six weeks was when things started clicking.
I found the two of them to be reassuring because the what to do when you get home is where I'm truly concerned. Yes, birth's hard; it's the rest of my life thing that worries me. I've read enough to be able to say, yes, I want to breastfeed; yes, I want the kid carried around instead of deposited in the infant seat all day, but I still don't know anyone personally who does that. It's reassuring to meet first-time parents who are doing those things.
I would like also to give a shout-out to J & T who took on screener duties last night and watched House then sent me an email saying, no, you don't want to watch it this week. I watched Oprah's Monday show on prostitutes and thought, "Oh God, if we have a daughter, now I have to remember to tell her not to become a hooker." I appreciate the heads-up, especially on the same day Save the Children comes out with a report saying the US has the second highest infant mortality rates among "modern" or "developed" nations, losing the top spot to Latvia.
Class last night was a grand improvement over the last class. Second stage labor means "the part where you push and the baby comes out." We watched a birth film which made six water births look pretty easy, although I did not care for the New Age-happy music that swelled dramatically after each birth. It was a step away from the pop songs during the credits of Japanese animation. Water births make me wonder when you get to shower, though. Even regular baths leave me feeling like I need a quick rinse; with all the stuff that comes out with a kid, I would want a shower.
I also have a hard time with the "practice" exercises. I have a hard time imaging what a contraction is going to feel like, but since it's the contraction of involuntary muscle, I'm sure it'll be different than tightening up any voluntary muscle in my body and relaxing it. I have mastered the squat enough that I don't like to be leaning on the Boy during a squat; it throws my balance off. It'll be different when there's a kid coming out, I'm sure.
There was another couple with a new baby for show-and-tell last night as well. These people were much more interesting and easy to follow. There was no three-year-old and the baby's daddy was right there (I'm sorry, but that did make it easier to relate). The mother was much more linear and articulate than the previous mother; the father quite pleased and smitten with the kid. The baby was five weeks old and cute. This mom went into labor about 7 days early at her baby shower, which is funny, really.
The father was so filled with fun facts, "Hey men, this woman will not be your wife. Just don't think of her that way for that one day. She's going to say things that you just have to remember, she's not your wife. Oh, and bring a change of clothes, maybe two. Oh, and be prepared early." Yeah, we probably need to get some place for the kid to sleep.
The mom was able to talk coherently not just about the birth, but also about breastfeeding, co-sleeping, slings and the like. She even talked about being at home alone with the kid and being lonely after the baby's dad went back to work. I asked her how long it had taken her to become an adept nursing mom, and she laughed (like she didn't feel adept) and said six weeks was when things started clicking.
I found the two of them to be reassuring because the what to do when you get home is where I'm truly concerned. Yes, birth's hard; it's the rest of my life thing that worries me. I've read enough to be able to say, yes, I want to breastfeed; yes, I want the kid carried around instead of deposited in the infant seat all day, but I still don't know anyone personally who does that. It's reassuring to meet first-time parents who are doing those things.
I would like also to give a shout-out to J & T who took on screener duties last night and watched House then sent me an email saying, no, you don't want to watch it this week. I watched Oprah's Monday show on prostitutes and thought, "Oh God, if we have a daughter, now I have to remember to tell her not to become a hooker." I appreciate the heads-up, especially on the same day Save the Children comes out with a report saying the US has the second highest infant mortality rates among "modern" or "developed" nations, losing the top spot to Latvia.
Monday, May 08, 2006
Return of the Nap Monster
Yesterday we didn't want to do more baby shopping (although we did end up at the baby superstore yet again but didn't buy anything, so it's a wash), so the quest of the day was to find good Chinese food. We ended up with dim sum at the Emerald. It's not the Chinese food I was looking for, but I like dim sum.
I have no idea what half of what we ate was, but it was good (except for the tea--that was oversteeped and bitter! I have no tolerance for bitter tea). Most of the waitstaff didn't speak much English and we didn't get a menu until the people at the next table left halfway through lunch, so it was all a crapshoot for selections. I know we had the lotus root paste rice cake things, little sesame seed-covered buns with red bean paste, pork gyoza and BBQ pork rolls, but past that it's a wash. There was a lot of things with shrimp and scallops in various wrappings (steamed in gloppy rice wrappers covered in soy sauce, deep-fried, steamed in globs upon shittake mushrooms).
Too full to go sit somewhere, we ended up at the baby superstore to ponder sleeping options for the kid and the merits of a Graco Pack-n-Play (and inadvertently consider the merits of a glider-rocker, which has a lot of merits when you've been walking through the baby superstore and you're tired).
We came home empty-handed although I think we decided that we will need a Pack-n-Play. I was tired (I had been tired all day) and just wanted to lay down for a bit to rest. I slept for three hours. I know we just rolled into the third trimester, but my response on waking up was oh no, not again. Not more naps again.
Most recently upset by the pregnancy: Jake the lap kitty who wants to know where my lap went. As I type this, he is astride my knees and the keyboard tray looking for the rest of my lap. It doesn't look comfortable. Poor sweet kitty.
I have no idea what half of what we ate was, but it was good (except for the tea--that was oversteeped and bitter! I have no tolerance for bitter tea). Most of the waitstaff didn't speak much English and we didn't get a menu until the people at the next table left halfway through lunch, so it was all a crapshoot for selections. I know we had the lotus root paste rice cake things, little sesame seed-covered buns with red bean paste, pork gyoza and BBQ pork rolls, but past that it's a wash. There was a lot of things with shrimp and scallops in various wrappings (steamed in gloppy rice wrappers covered in soy sauce, deep-fried, steamed in globs upon shittake mushrooms).
Too full to go sit somewhere, we ended up at the baby superstore to ponder sleeping options for the kid and the merits of a Graco Pack-n-Play (and inadvertently consider the merits of a glider-rocker, which has a lot of merits when you've been walking through the baby superstore and you're tired).
We came home empty-handed although I think we decided that we will need a Pack-n-Play. I was tired (I had been tired all day) and just wanted to lay down for a bit to rest. I slept for three hours. I know we just rolled into the third trimester, but my response on waking up was oh no, not again. Not more naps again.
Most recently upset by the pregnancy: Jake the lap kitty who wants to know where my lap went. As I type this, he is astride my knees and the keyboard tray looking for the rest of my lap. It doesn't look comfortable. Poor sweet kitty.
Sunday, May 07, 2006
Consignment Store Shopping
Since we officially rolled into the last trimester this week, it occurred to us that maybe the kid will need more than a car seat and our infinite love to survive.
We decided to check out the local baby consignment stores since most of this stuff gets outgrown pretty quickly, so we spent most of yesterday driving around discovering the local stores. We found one good one, one pretty good one, and a couple we probably won't be going back to.
We got some clothes (sleepers and onesies), but the find of the day was the Baby Bjorn.
The carrier issue has been complicated by the fact that we need two. Due to the one foot difference in height between the Boy and me (and the fact that my shoulder width is probably half of his), we need different carriers.
We had checked out the exact same model of Baby Bjorn for him in a certain famous baby superstore the day we got the car seat. This one was in good shape, copyright date on the tag was 2005, and it was $40, compared to the one three times the price at the superstore. Sold.
So now he's got something to cart the kid around on walks and outings and I just need to find a carrier more appropriate for the additional tasks of breastfeeding and standing-to-sitting scenarios. Yes, I know we could both use the Bjorn; that just seems like a PITA to change the straps every time we hand off the kid. For $40, we can afford another carrier and still come out ahead.
We decided to check out the local baby consignment stores since most of this stuff gets outgrown pretty quickly, so we spent most of yesterday driving around discovering the local stores. We found one good one, one pretty good one, and a couple we probably won't be going back to.
We got some clothes (sleepers and onesies), but the find of the day was the Baby Bjorn.
The carrier issue has been complicated by the fact that we need two. Due to the one foot difference in height between the Boy and me (and the fact that my shoulder width is probably half of his), we need different carriers.
We had checked out the exact same model of Baby Bjorn for him in a certain famous baby superstore the day we got the car seat. This one was in good shape, copyright date on the tag was 2005, and it was $40, compared to the one three times the price at the superstore. Sold.
So now he's got something to cart the kid around on walks and outings and I just need to find a carrier more appropriate for the additional tasks of breastfeeding and standing-to-sitting scenarios. Yes, I know we could both use the Bjorn; that just seems like a PITA to change the straps every time we hand off the kid. For $40, we can afford another carrier and still come out ahead.
Friday, May 05, 2006
You, Employer, are not my favorite charity.
My haircut this morning may have put me too much towards George Clooney (in a bad way), but it grows so fast I don't care.
Work makes it to the blog again! All week I've been waiting for a list of the current projects that are in my queue and I finally got it today. When I added the stuff I knew about to the stuff everyone else apparently signed me up for, I got a whopping total of 322* hours for the month of May.
I could work 14.63 hours every standard work day in May or I could work ~10.4 hours every day in May to meet that.
But I subscribe to the philosophy where giving an extra month's worth of labor away for free is foolish and stupid, especially at week 28 of pregnancy.
Those of you looking for pregnancy news: Kid's been fine and active, woke me up early this morning with the kicking. It's looking like it'll be a hellion.
*The best part is that this number doesn't include the one project I believe people are afraid to tell me about or any productivity time.
Work makes it to the blog again! All week I've been waiting for a list of the current projects that are in my queue and I finally got it today. When I added the stuff I knew about to the stuff everyone else apparently signed me up for, I got a whopping total of 322* hours for the month of May.
I could work 14.63 hours every standard work day in May or I could work ~10.4 hours every day in May to meet that.
But I subscribe to the philosophy where giving an extra month's worth of labor away for free is foolish and stupid, especially at week 28 of pregnancy.
Those of you looking for pregnancy news: Kid's been fine and active, woke me up early this morning with the kicking. It's looking like it'll be a hellion.
*The best part is that this number doesn't include the one project I believe people are afraid to tell me about or any productivity time.
Wednesday, May 03, 2006
Bradley Class #5: 1st Stage of Labor
Last night we were back on track in class, boy howdy. We went through the book (slowly, oh so slowly at times) and answered the questions, then had relaxation time, then a movie.
I think I'm getting better because I am short-tempered, which is always a sign that I'm getting better when I've been sick. Nobody could make me happy last night. The room was too bright; the floor was too hard; there wasn't enough space to lay down without other people touching my pillow with their feet; people were talking during relaxation and the movie. I was aware that I was feeling beastly and so I tried to rein it in.
People are getting more confident in our birth class, though. The horror porn last night was about sweet, young, first-time parents having a natural birth. The movie was pretty benign until the close-ups of crowning came on, and then, oh my (consider this your too much information warning). Watching the top of a baby's head pop in and out of a vagina like a jack-in-the-box is disturbing. The woman looked like she was in intense pain and just couldn't get the gumption up to push the kid past the pain (which of course she did, but by the shots of the clock in the movie, it looked like she pushed for two hours, which is a long time for the top of a kid's head to be popping in and out, I think).
After the movie, Jan asked what we thought of the movie and one of the guys said, "Grody." Then Jan asked if at least it didn't look painful, and I think all the women in the room said, "Oh no, that looked very painful. Incredibly painful." There wasn't even a pause in our responses. "But manageable," Jan says, "and how happy she was at the end."
Yes, yes, everyone's happy with the baby at the end. What's wrong with saying it looks painful? Pain can be managed if you know it will end at some point. The institutionalized birth machine in most US hospitals says that birth is just too painful to endure without drugs/interventions and the natural birth fascists say that birth is just a walk in the park if you just, well, walk in the park during birth. I think the truth is probably somewhere in between. But it's as much of a disservice to tell women birth doesn't hurt as it is to tell women that it is the most blindingly painful thing ever and cannot be managed without meds.
I think I'm getting better because I am short-tempered, which is always a sign that I'm getting better when I've been sick. Nobody could make me happy last night. The room was too bright; the floor was too hard; there wasn't enough space to lay down without other people touching my pillow with their feet; people were talking during relaxation and the movie. I was aware that I was feeling beastly and so I tried to rein it in.
People are getting more confident in our birth class, though. The horror porn last night was about sweet, young, first-time parents having a natural birth. The movie was pretty benign until the close-ups of crowning came on, and then, oh my (consider this your too much information warning). Watching the top of a baby's head pop in and out of a vagina like a jack-in-the-box is disturbing. The woman looked like she was in intense pain and just couldn't get the gumption up to push the kid past the pain (which of course she did, but by the shots of the clock in the movie, it looked like she pushed for two hours, which is a long time for the top of a kid's head to be popping in and out, I think).
After the movie, Jan asked what we thought of the movie and one of the guys said, "Grody." Then Jan asked if at least it didn't look painful, and I think all the women in the room said, "Oh no, that looked very painful. Incredibly painful." There wasn't even a pause in our responses. "But manageable," Jan says, "and how happy she was at the end."
Yes, yes, everyone's happy with the baby at the end. What's wrong with saying it looks painful? Pain can be managed if you know it will end at some point. The institutionalized birth machine in most US hospitals says that birth is just too painful to endure without drugs/interventions and the natural birth fascists say that birth is just a walk in the park if you just, well, walk in the park during birth. I think the truth is probably somewhere in between. But it's as much of a disservice to tell women birth doesn't hurt as it is to tell women that it is the most blindingly painful thing ever and cannot be managed without meds.
Tuesday, May 02, 2006
Pregnancy/Birth Reading List
I've been meaning for some time to add a list of the books that I've been reading about pregnancy, but it's probably extensive. I've added it to the sidebar; you can judge for yourself. I think those are all the books; I hope the links work.
The secret decoder ring to the list is that if I thought the book was worthwhile, I found the link to it at Amazon. If I found it just okay but not compelling or outright gross (like that horrible What to Expect drivel or my most recent irritant, The Expectant Father), I didn't bother.
The secret decoder ring to the list is that if I thought the book was worthwhile, I found the link to it at Amazon. If I found it just okay but not compelling or outright gross (like that horrible What to Expect drivel or my most recent irritant, The Expectant Father), I didn't bother.
Monday, May 01, 2006
I Love a Crusade
I don't really like to blog about work since I think this way there be dragons (and because I like to keep work and pregnancy in different buckets). But I have been accused of being on a one-woman crusade against stupidity recently, and I would like to point out why.
These are the people I would like to give paper cuts and douse in lemon juice this week:
These are the people I would like to give paper cuts and douse in lemon juice this week:
- People who don't use revision tracking. I know people think their writing is so fabulous and erudite that nobody would ever want to change a single word of it, but when I'm trying to reconstruct what you changed so I can understand what that incoherent babbling you've added was actually supposed to communicate, it adds another step and irritation to my processes. If this is a 90-page document, this takes a long freaking time to reconstruct.
- People who don't know how to use the Comments tools. I know it's so easy to write your comments in the body of a document, but there are tools I can use to look at all the comments at once. When I have to hunt through the document for your thoughts, I waste time. Oh, and those of you who feel superior for embedding your comments in someone else's comments? You can cut that crap out too. I see lots of documents a day and trying to decipher whose voice is so rudely clamped onto the end of my chipper little notes wastes my time. At least add your name to the front of the comment.
- People who think I'm a moron. Yes, I saw the edits from someone else half an hour ago; yes, I know to incorporate edits from people other than you. I can even go to the toilet without your help, as amazing as that may be.
- People who can't think like a customer. All writing should answer the "So what?" question of the cynical customer, not be something about how important you are.
- People who are above request forms. No, your time is not more important than mine, sorry. I'm sorry my boss thinks her time is less important than yours, but I want you to fill out the form so I have the information I need to do my job. I will have plenty to do without one more request from you, so it's you who will be feeling the pain.
I've reached the end of my work day and as such I am going to switch crusades from eradicating stupidity to putting the hurt on a pint of Ben & Jerry's Half Baked. Grf!
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