A warbly note

Look, blog, all I’m saying is that you’re pressure I don’t need.

I simply can’t be marginally interesting even half the time, let alone daily.

I’m busy with filling out papers and running all over town for physican’s reports and getting freaking painful PPD injections so I can hang at the preschool with my kid until he gets used to things; I have to polish a 25 page article then cut it to a 15-minute talk (good luck with that one, Captain Garrulous); I have to take a 32-page schlock-fest and make into a 40-page example of my best erudition and then into an awesome 25-page article; I have to plan holiday crapola and travel whosiewhatsis; and I have to figure out how to replace at least half of Peanut’s Halloween stash, because today it was simply magnetic, and the kid will notice. He pours out the whole stash on my bed every morning at dawn, with “mommy, you don’t have to get up, but can you help me pick my candy for today” because I stupidly put a two-piece a day limit and now he’s having this crappy candy for breakfast every day and will be until January. At least. Unless he notices the dearth of nougaty and caramely pieces (kind of sounds like an order of nuns) and calls me out, in which case there’s gonna be a serious meeting about how I’m the Mommy and if I’m gonna blog, I need to mainline sugar, else have nothing to say.

Or at least nothing to say so quickly. Or without proofreading.

Praise be cheeses

Oh, readers, the heavens are on my side today.

Peanut is being adorable.
Snickers, the baby, is being silly.
Long walk resulted in a happy child. Continuation of long walk resulted in errands being completed. Further continuation of long walk resulted in an hour of self-entertained playground operations and a coffee milkshake for me. Continuation of long walk resulted in observation of road work AND a tractor climb for Peanut. Yay water district workers.

Exceedingly long walk rendered me unable to rant at the lazy postal worker or the crappy drivers. And made me even more obsequious in my friendly waves to drivers who stop for us at crosswalks. You people rock.

Peanut has decided he loves spinach. Three meals a day he has raw spinach, with varying dipping sauces. I don’t recognize this kid, but he’ll be strong to the finich.

And Houston, we have preschool.

Paperwork underway, we may begin as early as next week.

Universe, shut the heck up! You’re more awesome than the quantum physicists had me believe!

Holy cow

Please don’t tell anyone who is more than 5 months pregnant, nor my two dear, sweet friends who carried and delivered twins that I said this, but great galloping ghosts, I don’t remember having a 5 month old fetus feeling so damned BIG. I swear I’m more uncomfortable now than I was at 8 months last time. As I said, though, don’t tell anyone whose uterus is, or has been, bigger than a cantaloupe. A really, really, big cantaloupe.

While we’re on that, why do they measure pregnancy milestones in fruit and vegetables? For heaven’s sake, telling me something is as long as a banana or a carrot is just plain stupid. Come with me to the store, you lameass lazy writers, and show me which banana. Do you mean that baby carrot or one of the eight thousand other sizes carrots come in? Why not tell me that my 9 inch fetus is about the length of 9 consecutive big lines on a ruler? Idiots.

The Brits understand. When I sought websites in proper English, hoping they might in terms other than produce, I found their measurements are way more reassuring. 360g?! Holy crow, that’s enormous, right?. 360 of anything is big. No wonder I feel like I swallowed a soccer ball. And 27cm? That’s…ah, hell, I wish we had converted to metric so I’d have some damned idea how long that is, but it sounds just huge.

But then, the Brits said this: “You’re probably feeling quite comfortable these days. This, in fact, may be the most enjoyable time in your pregnancy. ” Ah, man, f— you! Is this going to be the f— you trimester? Cuz I thought that was the 19 weeks of incessantly barfing and exhaustion. No? This is the f— you trimester? I’m not sure. I kind of remember the next one being the exact opposite of a picnic, but what do I know? I had forgotten about feeling that I could never, ever eat again after one almond.

Maybe it’s the eyebrows little Fetalanine just grew, or something, but I am just not large enough to accommodate any more growth.

Or explain jokes about phenylalanine. If you don’t get them, ask the Brits. They explain everything so well.

Fragile X

Time ran a piece last year on a wonderful, loving family pulled even closer together by Fragile X syndrome. The article is interesting in part because it shows how one astute physician can notice a pattern and push genetic disease research forward by huge leaps.

There’s a lot of recent information on this disease, and the research into Fragile X is at the forefront of our understanding of autism. Carriers of the genetic difference are also subject to a host of medical issues that trouble families who don’t even know they carry the gene.

Look into it. Get involved. Support research.

Super Happy Halloween

P: Happy Halloween!
Stranger with candy: Oh, what a great costume. Choose a piece of candy.
P: Can I have two?
Swc: Sure!
M: [silently] damn you, neighbor!
P: Thanks! Happy Halloween!
Swc: Bye.
P: Hope you have fun. Bye. I love you!

Just about died with joy at every single house. Cutest of all cute peas, he wanted to go up to the house by himself. He pushed the button, knocked twice, and stepped back, like each door were an elevator. He only told two people he loved them, because that last line is what he says to Dad every morning when he leaves and to anyone who calls and wants to talk to him on the phone.

So it was an awesome night. Much fun. One boy in spider jammies, vampire vest, mardi gras necklace, stuffed ghost tucked into vest, cowboy hat, and construction goggles.

Small beef: Neighbors, please, could *one* of you give out toys or play-dough or crayons or something instead of candy. Come on. One house with a dentist and toothbrush, maybe? One spider ring or yo-yo or plastic skeleton? Please?

Cowboy spider vampire necklace extravaganza