Giving birth to Joe Dirt

So, Nick wants me to post at least one last time prior to birthing this monster, so I will. I am to the point where I am so uncomfortable, the thought of two more days is horrible, and the thought of two more weeks is unfathomable. Each day I seem to lose (semi)permanent feeling in another digit - totally bizarre.

Anyway, we had an ultrasound last Thursday and the radiologist said given the size and development of the baby (8lbs-ish and totally developed- functioning, breathing and the like), she would put our due date at Sept. 4 - that's just four short days away. I'm actually OK with that because 1) the very important gear I ordered should be arriving via UPS on Tuesday or Wednesday, and 2) I need just a couple more days at work to clear off my desk to the point where I am comfortable abandoning my co-workers for 3 months.

Also at our ultrasound we of course saw the baby again. I'm with a big HMO, so no fancy 3D pictures for me! We were kind of expecting to "see" the baby- you know, see what he looks like, but that was not the case. Our ultrasound tech was able to point out the short little hairs on top of his head (hello, heartburn)! But wait, then she pointed out the longer hairs on the back of his head....What? Short on the top, long in the back? Could it be? Could our sweet, precious baby boy be an 80s throw-back with a mullett? But of course! This goes along with the other messages karma has been sending me throughout my pregnancy...make fun of cankles? You're sure to get them by the end of your pregnancy. Brag about how easy your pregancy is and how lucky you are? The last month is sure to be a nightmare. Finally, set mulletsgalore.com as your favortie website 10 whole years ago and give birth to Joe Dirt! Oh well.

My Big Fat Irish Baby

Yikes! I went to the doctor early last week, right at my 34 week mark, and measured 38 centimeters! This is no typo, and if you don't know what this means, at 34 weeks I should be measuring between 32 and 36 inches. The doctor was dead silent for a moment and then asked me if there were lots of big babies in my family. Great.

In other news about how big my stomach is, at my shower last weekend my adorable 7 year old niece guessed my belly to be double the size it actually is! Thanks, Olivia!

So, what do you think? Will the baby be early, or late, or on time? My due date is September 17, which seems like a lifetime away...Vote in the poll or leave your comments here!

Lyle Lovett- still in my top five, ten years later!

So, anybody close to my age has seen the Friend's episode with the "Top 5." If you lived under a rock in the late 1990s, I'll summarize: Our friends at Central Perk each make a list of their "Top 5," a list of celebrities they could sleep with guilt free should the occasion arise; a sort of get-out-of-trouble-free card. I think this episode came out my junior year of college. Seeing that this was Cedar City, Utah (where there is really nothing much to do besides watch Friends on a Thursday night), and pretty much none of us (OK, except Mary), were actually in a relationship, we did what only made sense at the time: we each made our own Top 5 list. This was pretty uneventful, except for the fact that I included Lyle Lovett in my Top 5. Nobody could get it (except perhaps Julia Roberts), and I was the subject of relentless teasing. But I stood by my choice then, and I stand by it now.

Last night Nick and I went to the Chateau Ste. Michelle winery in Woodinville, Washington for the Lyle Lovett concert. I am a huge fan (clearly) and I feel that I would be doing my readers (even the world) a disservice should I not just take a moment to stump for the wonderful Lyle Lovett. I am not really a fan of country music. However, Lyle is not really a "country" musician. I would say that primarily he is a song writer - and he writes beautiful songs. He is a master with weaving in small, intimate deatils and painting a vivid picture of whatever he may be singing about. He does this in his folk songs, gospel songs, jazz songs, and yes, even his country songs. And Lyle seems to have a sort of love affair with the Northwest. He comes at least once a year, and Nick and I go see him every couple of years (this was number 4). He was there with (part of) his Large Band (It's not Big, It's Large), although unfortunately Francine, my favorite member of his Large Band, was not present.

We had a really good time. Besides Lyle, this may have had something to do with the fact that it was our first outing since the bar exam, so really, our first stress-free outing probably since we went to Italy in March. It may also have something to do with the fact that the weather was incredible- a little cloudy, but no rain and about 70 degrees and the sun didn't set until after 9 pm. It also probably had something to do with the venue- Chateau Ste. Michelle was by far the best venue I have ever been to for a concert. Our general admission seats were awesome, and there's nothing more intimate than enjoying a concert on a blanket, with some low-backed chairs, a Costco chicken, some Dubliner cheese, and wine from the winery 20 feet away (none for me). I could probably see anybody at that venue and still enjoy it, but the fact that it was Lyle made it so much better. And just so I don't break my streak of talking about the baby on every post, I will add that he gave his 2 thumbs up as well. He danced away almost the whole concert and was clearly overjoyed at the experience, judging by the state of my ribs.

So, hopefully I have completed my mission, and inspired you to listen to at least one Lyle Lovett song. Might I suggest Sonia? It's the first LL song I ever heard (freshman year of college, introduced by my really-into-music friend Jimi), and still my favorite.

Baby classes

So, I realize that this blog is quickly morphing into "all baby, all the time," but that's pretty much what our lives are morphing into (except for that pesky bar exam thingy). So, this holiday weekend Nick tore himself away from secured transactions and limited partnerships to spend a relaxing 5th of July taking a break from his studies....at a birthing class.

This is the second full day of classes we have taken the first was a marathon a few weeks ago that included the informative Newborn Prep, the eye-opening Breast Feeding Prep, and the I-hope we-never-have-to-use Infant Safety/CPR. Child Birth class was eye opening to say the least. We learned A LOT. Maybe too much. There really were things I just didn't want to know and more things I definitely just didn't want to see. My theory is that by the time the baby comes, I'll be so ready to not be pregnant anymore, I won't care how he comes out! So here is my top three list of things I wish I hadn't seen:

1. The number one thing I could have died without ever seeing is the "birth" of the placenta. I do not plan to watch mine- why would I want to watch someone else deliver their placenta? The placenta is disgusting. And huge. And while I know it serves an essential biological purpose for the well being of the baby, really? A big, meaty, throbbing purple thing? No thank you.

2. We also watched a video- a montage if you will - of women in the mid-stages of natural birth. The sounds coming from many of these women were unnatural. For a while, I thought I was watching video of the psych ward. Really. Makes an epidural much more attractive, and also illustrates why we will not be videotaping the birth!

3. The other thing I did not need to see is my instructor demonstrating Kegel exercises. Can you even see anything? No. So please don't point towards that general direction. (No disrespect meant towards our instructor- who was awesome- it was just SO much to take in).

Baby classes came and went so quickly- I hope we remember everything when the baby comes (maybe not everything).

Baby Registry

One of the most exciting moments in wedding planning is when you and your future spouse go and register for gifts. There is nothing cooler than going to Macy's, getting that little gun, and going gangbusters on all the stuff you need, want, and would never, ever buy for yourselves. Some people think registries are tacky- a big gift grab telling people what to get you. I do not agree- registries are a practical way for the gift giver to ensure that their gift will be wanted, appreciated and used. I am always a fan of giving gifts from a registry, because if the bride and groom want a toaster, they may want the red Kitchen Aid toaster, not the metal style toaster I would pick out from Target. Also, gift registries put all the guests in sync- even though I don't know your Aunt Myrtle, I can see that she purchased 4 of your chosen wine goblets, and I can supplement that with the remaining 4 wine goblets, and you will have the desired set of 8 wine goblets. Brilliant.

Registering for baby gifts is the antithesis of a wedding registry. There is nothing more stressful, anxiety ridden, and confidence shattering than walking into a Babies R Us and recognizing just how inadequate you are- realizing that you will be a horrible parent because you don't know an infant car seat from a convertible car seat, or that you should get a "cool mist" humidifier, or that you should make sure you can't fit a soda can through the slots on a crib. This is what we went through a few weeks ago when we were stupid and naive enough to walk blind into a Babies R Us. On a Saturday. At 2:00 p.m.

I was excited to go to Babies R Us, waiting to duplicate to pure exhilaration of the wedding registry. This was not to be the case. Instead, we entered an unknown jungle of pregnant woman, reluctant men, infants, and aisles and aisles of items of god-knows-what; but apparently we needed one of each. After several misguided attempts on my part to figure out 1) what we needed and 2) what had the highest safety ratings, Nick assuaged my anxiety by taking the gun away and starting to shoot: he paid no attention to what he was shooting. I pointed, he shot. He shot items that were cool, items that we wanted, and items that we would never, ever buy for ourselves. For a brief moment we had matched the pure high of the wedding registry. For one moment (OK, about 30 minutes) we didn't think about safety ratings, prices or necessity. For
one moment we were free.

We left the Babies R Us, satisfied that we had completed our mission, warm from our victory. We celebrated the day with some drinks (Virgin Pina Colada for me) with friends in Seattle.

The next day I looked at our online registry, and changed every single thing.

Dreams

Since I've been pregnant I've had a lot of funky dreams. I don't know if I am having more than usual, or if they are just more vivid and memorable, or if I am simply remembering them because I wake up four times a night to use the bathroom.

When I was first pregnant, I started having what I'll call the "party" dreams. These dreams all were about good times and living it up. I'm pretty sure these dreams were a manifestation of the concerns I was having on how my life would soon be changing. More recently, I have moved on to the "fear" dreams. These dreams are horrific, and illustrate the subconscious concerns I am obviously having involving child birth, my safety, and the baby's safety. I don't talk about these dreams because they are completely disturbing and they make me wish I hadn't watched so many horror movies in the past, and that I haven't read so many horrible police and CPS reports.

Last night I had a new kind of dream. I am referring to this type of dream as the "absurdist" dream. I hope I have graduated from "fear" to "absurdist" permanently because it was pretty damn funny. Some background: Nick catches a lot of salmon, and he smokes a lot of salmon. He is famous in three counties and four states for his wonderful smoked salmon recipes. He has an old "L'il Chief" smoker he bought from some guy on Craig's List for $20. Lately, Nick has been looking at upgrading his smoker (did I mention I hate smoked fish and the smell of smoking the fish?), and last night he showed me the $250 smoker on the Cabela's website that he would like to procure. Clearly, given the state of things, we will probably not be spending $250 on a smoker anytime soon.

So that is the background to the dream I had last night. (This will be much funnier to those who know us both).

In my dream, I walked into our non-existent garage and Nick was in there packing up our baby mattress and crib (we just got one last week). I asked him what he was doing, and he told me, quite matter of factly, that a guy on Craig's List needed a crib and mattress, and he was going to trade ours for a new smoker. I asked him calmly if he was crazy, told him that we needed the crib, and where the heck would we put the baby? He said "Don't worry, this guy has an old twin mattress he's also giving me; we'll just put the baby on that." Just then the Craig's List guy showed up with the smoker and a mattress: I don't know who Craig's List guy was supposed to be: he was very skinny and hunched over with unwashed hair and an oversized coat. The mattress he dragged in with him was burned out, stained, and just plain nasty. I told Nick I would never put a baby on that thing and he again said, "Don't worry, my dad is going to help me repair it with old sheets."

It was at that moment that I woke up (because I needed to go to the bathroom). When I told Nick he simply relied "You have issues" (which of course I do).

Let's hear it for more absurd dreams!

Graduating from law school...twice!

Nick graduated from law school on May 17th at Safeco Field. I know this was his weekend, but I couldn't help but be just a little proud of my accomplishment: I have now graduated from law school not once, but twice. Besides my little known law school graduation in 2002, it is apparently even more revered to survive three years as a "law school widow." This was a theme not only in the speeches given by the speakers, but in the personal congratulations we received. Apparently the people "congratulating" me were not aware that I have been practicing law myself for almost 6 years now, and, were not aware of the little known secret that the only thing worse than being the spouse of a law student is being the spouse of a lawyer (especially the first few years of practice).

So, that being said, congratulations to Nick, for getting through the nightmare of law school with (relative) grace and (inappropriate) humor, and for surviving living in a home with me through my first years of practice (affectionately dubbed "the alcoholic years"). Also please pray for me, as Nick begins studying for the bar exam and I am seven months pregnant- I'm not yet sure which of us will be more hormonal.