Thursday, September 25, 2008

Weight Watchers

You have to check out this site--Weight Watcher cards from the 1970s.

(Don't worry: I'm not dieting while I'm pregnant, I just think its hilarious and can't resist passing it along.)

Particularly check out the gruesome fish sauce and Mexican Shrimp-Orange Salad. Oh and the uber-icky melon mousse that looks like jellied cat vomit. (I have three cats: so I know of which I speak.)

On the pregnancy front: all goes well. The little bean continues to squirm once or twice a day and I'm finally showing a little. Now I actually feel pregnant: for weeks I just felt abnormally busty and strangely hungry all the time. Next week we go in for our 20 week scan to make sure everything's okay. (You know, like the babe has a fully functioning heart, two arms, two legs etc. No vestigial tails or anything like that.)

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Friday, September 19, 2008

But I Have TV

My father's an oncologist who specializes in prostate cancer and as such he's got more than a few stories about kooky patients.

Like this little exchange he told me about a while back:

Guy comes into the clinic. My Dad, as part of his routine, asks about the guy's personal life, since so many cancer patients suffer from depression. (And depression can affect the success of their treatments.)

The man is retired. He's not married. He has no real friends. He has no hobbies. He has no siblings and both of his parents are dead. He has no pets.

My dad--deeply worried--asks: "Don't you get lonely?"

The guy's astonished: "Lonely!" he says. "Why would I be lonely? I have TV."

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Thursday, September 18, 2008

Wanna know why I love living in Brooklyn and rue the day I'll eventually have to move out to the burbs? Take a look at this photo I took--with my new swanky iphone no less--at the Fairway grocery store last weekend.

The guy's making fresh mozzarella right there at the counter. Can you believe that? I never saw anything like that at any of the grocery stores in Washington, DC, the DC suburbs, or central Virginia. Even San Francisco, folks. And it was good mozzarella, too.

(Mmmmm. Sorry: took a blogging break to grab a slice of that gorgeous cheese.)

Plus they've got a whole bar of pickled things made right there in the store--not just cucumbers but olives and green tomatoes (which I've been craving like mad lately.)

Why the cravings, you ask? Why, yes: I am pregnant again. Actually four and a half months along. I still can't believe that we got pregnant again so soon after the miscarriage, but there you go: and it seems just about fitting that the little munchkin's gonna get here right around Valentine's Day. Well, give or take a week, maybe two.... These things are notoriously hard to predict.

Aside from the cravings--and subsequent exuberant fondness for stores that provide satisfying answers to said cravings--I haven't really had any symptoms. No morning sickness. Not that much weight gain yet. Haven't felt any movement yet either. Slight indigestion but that may be because of my tendency to eat past satiety. Other than that I think I actually understand those women who don't realize they're pregnant until the fifth or sixth month. If I only got my period sporadically? I'd probably just think I'd put on a few pounds.... Well, of course there's the strange sensitivity to smells and the mysteriously expanding boobs. Seriously: I've gone up two cups sizes since June 1. It's kinda like going through puberty.

I kept the secret long after the first trimester out of superstition. There was a part of me that really believed that the first pregnancy ended last March because I'd revealed too much too soon. And I wasn't about to do it again this time. That in some way I'd failed to protect her/him. Now, I know that's totally unrealistic--most miscarriages are due to some chromosomal abnormality--but feelings have a funny way of ignoring reality. At least mine do.

I'm in the second trimester now. 18 weeks today, actually. And I'm eagerly awaiting that first flutter of movement. I was going to wait to blog about it until after the 20 week anatomy scan--after I knew everything was okay with his/her heart, limbs etc.

But I'm tired of feeling apprehensive. If something bad happens, I'll deal with it. In the meantime: I'm going to let myself feel happy, feel hopeful.

Even start to think of myself as Mommy.

Sounds strange, huh?

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Thursday, September 11, 2008

I'm sitting in a coffee shop in the Village called Think--my usual hunt on City writing days. I'm surrounded by young NYU students engrossed in their laptops and books. Next to laptops lie cell phones and iPhones and blackberrries and half of the kids are wearing ear phones plugged into their computers.

And what do you think is playing at a slightly louder than comfortable level? Echoing almost in the coffee shop?

Bob Dylan's greatest hits.

And as I'm sitting here listening to his words I'm struck by how eerily right and accurate they are--even after all this time. Words from a generation before mine still speaking to the generation after mine.

Sometimes? Life is just too beautiful it breaks my heart.

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