Yesterday Baby H and I had the busiest of all busy days. First we awoke at 5:00 AM, because I ACTUALLY HAVE NO IDEA WHY WE DID THIS AND IT WAS DUMB. Then we made oatmeal. It was the real kind that takes awhile, so while it was cooking, we swept Reese’s fuzz up off the floors. After breakfast and other whatnot, we went to yoga. It was a tougher class than the first one, but we were still the stars, I am sure. (Is it possible I do not have the correct personality for yoga?)
After yoga, we went to the Old Navy on Alameda, where a sale on maternity clothes was underway. See, I had recently fallen into a chasm in my wardrobe... most things are too short to make it over the belly, and some other things are still too big. Every morning I do much putting on and taking off of shirts to find one that fits somewhat appropriately. And I decided that the luxury of being able to put on a shirt and know that it will fit over my belly is really not so much to ask. Especially when there is a sale. I also congratulated myself for extreme achievements in the self-control division when I did not buy Baby H a puffy vest.
Once the wall of frugality was broken, there was nothing left to do but go to the supermarket and spend all our money. We bought the Baby Daddy’s favorites (chips and cottage cheese, chips and salsa, Greek yogurt, peppered salami, and beer), in honor of his coming-home-day. We also bought the baby’s favorites (fruit, instant pad thai, cinnamon rice chex, and sparkling water), in honor of his being a baby who is still too young to spoil. Then we realized we would fall over if we did not eat something NOW. So Baby H and I got ourselves a nonfat-decaf-coffee-frappuccino-no-whip (his first!) and hurried home, where we ate some red grapes, obviously.
At this point it occurred to me that in all this running around, NO ONE had wanted to talk to me about my baby. Can you imagine? What was wrong with the world? This made me a bit fretful for a few minutes, and now it also occurs to me that it is going to be a cold shock to my system when I am suddenly deprived of all this lovely attention.
But I couldn’t mope for long, because we had a party to prepare for. An engagement party! Around the Halekas house, we are much in favor of all things love and marriage and parties, so this was no time for moping. It was time for making sangria and tapenade. Here’s a tip: people find it very impressive when you make your own tapenade. But it’s really an incredibly easy thing to make. Mine has figs and olives in it and it is delicious and I don't mind saying so. I serve it with goat cheese and some sort of a bready vehicle and then I have to spend the rest of my day fending off marriage proposals.
The sangria, I am told, was strong. All of my cocktail concoctions these days are strong, it seems. I don’t measure, and I don’t taste, and so you get what you get. Jasper is my official taster these days, but I have long-since trained his palate for the wondrousness of cocktails on the martini end of the spectrum, so... it’s not so much a trouble with my cocktails as it is inadequate training on the part of my drinkers. And I can’t do much about that, now can I? Motivation has to come from within.
The party was fabulous. It was possibly Baby H’s favorite party yet (and he’s been to lots!) He danced and people talked about him a lot. These are both hallmarks of a great party. We also ate tons of delicious food, heard stories of recent 100-mile races, and met a two-year-old who also has a baby boy in her belly. Seriously, what are the odds? Her baby’s name is Collin. Baby H’s Auntie V also talked up the virtues of tequila for pain-management during labor. So, you know, we’re looking into amending our birth plan.
Could this post be any longer? It could, because we still need to cover the produce report.
This is another one of those disappointing weeks when we all wonder if the baby could be shrinking? But the actual lesson to be learned here is: navel oranges weigh more than you thought. And Baby H weighs as much as four of them, which is apparently around 3.3 pounds:
After yoga, we went to the Old Navy on Alameda, where a sale on maternity clothes was underway. See, I had recently fallen into a chasm in my wardrobe... most things are too short to make it over the belly, and some other things are still too big. Every morning I do much putting on and taking off of shirts to find one that fits somewhat appropriately. And I decided that the luxury of being able to put on a shirt and know that it will fit over my belly is really not so much to ask. Especially when there is a sale. I also congratulated myself for extreme achievements in the self-control division when I did not buy Baby H a puffy vest.
Once the wall of frugality was broken, there was nothing left to do but go to the supermarket and spend all our money. We bought the Baby Daddy’s favorites (chips and cottage cheese, chips and salsa, Greek yogurt, peppered salami, and beer), in honor of his coming-home-day. We also bought the baby’s favorites (fruit, instant pad thai, cinnamon rice chex, and sparkling water), in honor of his being a baby who is still too young to spoil. Then we realized we would fall over if we did not eat something NOW. So Baby H and I got ourselves a nonfat-decaf-coffee-frappuccino-no-whip (his first!) and hurried home, where we ate some red grapes, obviously.
At this point it occurred to me that in all this running around, NO ONE had wanted to talk to me about my baby. Can you imagine? What was wrong with the world? This made me a bit fretful for a few minutes, and now it also occurs to me that it is going to be a cold shock to my system when I am suddenly deprived of all this lovely attention.
But I couldn’t mope for long, because we had a party to prepare for. An engagement party! Around the Halekas house, we are much in favor of all things love and marriage and parties, so this was no time for moping. It was time for making sangria and tapenade. Here’s a tip: people find it very impressive when you make your own tapenade. But it’s really an incredibly easy thing to make. Mine has figs and olives in it and it is delicious and I don't mind saying so. I serve it with goat cheese and some sort of a bready vehicle and then I have to spend the rest of my day fending off marriage proposals.
The sangria, I am told, was strong. All of my cocktail concoctions these days are strong, it seems. I don’t measure, and I don’t taste, and so you get what you get. Jasper is my official taster these days, but I have long-since trained his palate for the wondrousness of cocktails on the martini end of the spectrum, so... it’s not so much a trouble with my cocktails as it is inadequate training on the part of my drinkers. And I can’t do much about that, now can I? Motivation has to come from within.
The party was fabulous. It was possibly Baby H’s favorite party yet (and he’s been to lots!) He danced and people talked about him a lot. These are both hallmarks of a great party. We also ate tons of delicious food, heard stories of recent 100-mile races, and met a two-year-old who also has a baby boy in her belly. Seriously, what are the odds? Her baby’s name is Collin. Baby H’s Auntie V also talked up the virtues of tequila for pain-management during labor. So, you know, we’re looking into amending our birth plan.
Could this post be any longer? It could, because we still need to cover the produce report.
This is another one of those disappointing weeks when we all wonder if the baby could be shrinking? But the actual lesson to be learned here is: navel oranges weigh more than you thought. And Baby H weighs as much as four of them, which is apparently around 3.3 pounds:
People continue to tell me I am not very impressively pregnant at all. In fact, yesterday, at the fabulous party, someone who knows me was chatting me up and completely didn’t notice that I am pregnant. Seriously? It’s right there! He must have assumed I had just really let myself go after getting hitched and disappearing from the ultra-running circuit. And what a tragic weight-gain pattern!
This would be sad if I weren’t so pregnant:
Number of prenatal yoga classes Baby H has attended: 2
Number of fabulous and fancy baby seats Baby H owns: 1 (details to come!)
Number of people who greeted me with “You’re gonna have a baby!” this week: 1
Number of people who had already greeted me thus, prior to this week: 2
Likelihood that this greeting makes my pregnant glow that much brighter: very high
Number of blog-stalkers I now know myself to have: 1
How much this delights me to my very core: very much
Baby H’s favorite foods: red grapes, cinnamon rice chex, smoothies
Baby H’s suddenly not-favorite foods: ice cream, peanut butter (!!)
Pounds of red grapes consumed this week: 1.5
Number of smoothies consumed this week: 2
Number of days my baby’s daddy left us unsupervised this week: 4.5
Number of vegetable servings we ate while he was away: 2-ish
Dependably enjoyed tune of the week: Moves like Jagger (Maroon 5)
Surprisingly not-enjoyed tune of the week: Tonight Tonight (Hot Chelle Rae)
In honor of your on-going list of exciting things and events, you can add 2 to the number of blog stalkers you have! I love your blog! So well written and funny and I love that you post so often:-)
ReplyDeleteJessica!!! I'm so flattered to have you as a stalker! Thanks for de-lurking and telling me!
ReplyDelete