Grape Did It

Am I only able to talk about one thing anymore?

Coming back from a post about penis foreskin. Aww right.

Let's see, yesterday I stayed home pregnancy-sick from work because I think I've discovered a pretty uncanny connection between not enough sleep and feeling like ass the next day. Perhaps I'm just grasping at straws here, looking for ways to blame my nausea and other crap feelings on something tangible: if I get in bed by 8:30, if I sleep soundly, if I cough three times before I actually sit up and get out of the bed. THEN I MIGHT FEEL OKAY THAT DAY. It is odd how superstitious I become when feeling sick and will twist myself into a pretzel to try and feel better.

So anyway, another unpleasant side effect of this pregnancy has been an inability to fall asleep and I think it has to do directly with the above. I begin to fret that I won't get enough sleep, that work will be hell the next day (on top of the already-hell it is) and thus I cannot fall asleep and the cycle gets worse. I have honestly begin to count sheep, except for it turns into this bizarre scene where sheep are actually falling from the sky and some farmer in large rubber boots is catching them, cradle-style and then straightening up for the next one to fall from the sky. I never claimed normality.

In betters news, it is Friday, and Bud and I are making a little house hunting progress. So long as I remember to bring my peanut butter crackers in the car with me as we peruse neighborhoods.

That went well

Okay, so yeah, I asked Bud last night, "but no seriously, you read what I wrote, would you circumcise our child if it's a boy?"

And I so TOTALLY EXPECTED A FIGHT. Honestly? I was also prepared for him to win because he has the plumbing and I'll speak to things like, "LEAVE HER ALONE, if you know what I mean," when we have teenage daughters. IF. If we don't end up with a gaggle of boys. That's also all IF I can stand more than one pregnancy because YES this one is still giving me a run for my money. (Fun side note: almost fainted in the doorway of a coworker's office yesterday. The walls started crowding in around me and I put my finger up like, um, scuze me but I'M ABOUT TO DIE and then ran to my desk to put my head between my legs.) (Baby, you'd better be worth it.) (I have a feeling you will be.)

Anyway, back to our original story. Here's how the conversation went:

"So, yeah, WOULD you want to circumcise him, if it's a boy?"

"No."

"Really? Why not?" (here I become devil's advocate and don't even know why.)

"Why?"

"No, no, that's MY line. I know why not, I'm asking you why not."

"I mean I just don't see the point."

And that folks, is that.

To chop or not to chop?

So, wow. Just as it has been running through my head recently, it has also been running through the giant head of the blogosphere's, or perhaps it's the other way around. Every website I've visited recently has begun talking, or wondering about circumcision. Mm, hope you're not eating your breakfast!

My inclination is to say no, I do not want my child, if it is a boy, to be circumcised. I know, I know, my mother has already claimed the infection stand-by or others have simply said, "he'll feel weird." And of course this largely also has to do with Bud's opinion on the subject. But. But. Why? The whole increased risk of infection/cancer/hair turning green has proved just as touchy a subject as Global Warming and I find it hard to believe that our intact bodies were somehow designed incorrectly. CALL ME CRAZY.

On the other hand, we're having a difficult time enough trying to come up with names - male or female - so when poor little Dilbert Irkle Virgil Sypert is getting dressed in the locker room, not only will they be mocking his name, BUT HIS PENIS TOO?

I still lean towards the not-to-chop and hope that he will become strong like bull about his...um, potential differences. After all, one does not easily forget a moniker like Hope the Dope Who Doesn't Use Soap. BUT I TOTALLY GREW FROM IT.

12 week photo

Yes, I realize I look slightly stoned in this picture but people, try holding your shirt up, not standing at a terribly unflattering angle AND taking a picture of yourself in the mirror and see how you look. Oh? You do that all the time for your Facebook profile? All right then, I stand corrected. In any event, I'm not sure if that belly is Cider or Cheetos but I am just beginning to notice a little shadow right above my underwear line and it is a little rounder and a little harder than your Thanksgiving dinner variety.

The hand symbol? That's a little joke I share with several people on Facebook and my dad. Also my gang in California.

Pointing out the obvious

I asked Ella this morning what she was eating for breakfast? She answered shur-ee-al and so I asked her if I could have a bite? She responded, nooo, all indignant, and when I asked her why she patiently explained, "Because I's at my house and it's far, far away." Mensa, that one.

No she dinnnn't

I keep trying to wrap my brain around this little office exchange. I called my mom last night on the way home from work and it was just all, I MEAN. WHAT THE HELL. CAN YOU? REALLY?  WAIT, WHAT? Over and over again. The worst part of all this is I continue to be surprised when people take a page out of The Office and enact it, in a SERIOUS WAY, at work. I'm sorry, haven't we seen this episode before? Shouldn't we all be just a little more aware of what constitutes asshole behavior at the office?

My latest project at work...get ready...is two hours of scanning each day. Just standing at the copier, feeding paper into the machine, marking the work down on a sheet - because where would we be without THAT? - and starting the whole process over again. I don't think I need to explain to you how boring this is. But wait! That's okay. Mundane work is annoying, but if it needs to be done, okay, we get it done, right?

Yesterday was Day 1 of Project Enlightenment and, after I'd been back there for about a half hour people, I had REALLY caught on. I was cranking those sheets out so fast and my marking down technique? Pure gold. I had a system. So when my mother called me, I had no qualms. Felt confident even, chit chatting, turning my awful little project into lemonade while I continued in my zone of good, nay GREAT, work.

Which is when, oh yes, Thing #1 walked back there, pretending to do some work while - I'm guessing - calculating her next words.

"Hope?" (motions to me with a little smile on her face)

"Yes?" (looks at her quizzically, no idea what her hand motions yet mean)

Now she's nodding no, and holding a fake phone up to her head.

Me: "What?" (shrugging shoulders, beginning to catch on, but still incredulous that this is even happening)

Thing # 1: "No, no. Phone OR scanning. Uh uh, not both."

Me: Still staring at her, now slack jawed.

Thing #1: Still trying to smile, AS IF THAT MEANS THIS IS ANY LESS LUDICROUS. "Phone plus scanning, not a good idea. You might make mistakes."

And now I'm asking you, on a truly serious note, what would you have done? I mean, I know everyone wants to say, I would have SHOWED her where that scanner could go! Or, Yeah well, I would have just sat down and finished my conversation. But no, realistically, when faced with such INANE behavior, how do you act?

Everyone should be this lucky

My least favorite part of yesterday's appointment was when the doctor couldn't find Cider's heartbeat with the little hand-held thingy and so I had to wait in the sonogram waiting room for what felt like forever to make sure there was still a baby in there. That part was kind of scary even though the doctor assured me that, "you're not even 12 weeks yet, the baby is probably just buried somewhere in there." Which is when I asked her what a miscarriage would feel like and when she responded the nausea would have gone away I was all PHEW FOR THE NAUSEA THAT PERSISTS.

My second to favorite part of yesterday's appointment was when I nervously chattered to the girl sitting next to me in the little internal waiting room, "Is this your first sonogram?" and when she nodded yes I went on to breathlessly explain that this was my second but only because they couldn't find the heartbeat with the wand thingy which basically left her no choice but to comfort me. So when I realized just how selfish I was being, I muttered, "And oh! Congratulations to you too!" Which is when she informed me she wasn't so much pregnant as had a cyst on her ovary. Well done, Hope.

But by far the best, most spectacular portion of yesterday's appointment was when I finally got to see Cider and YOU GUYS. That picture from yesterday does not even do it justice. IT IS A PERSON UP IN THERE. You always hear these mushy gushy stories from parents to be all, "Oh it was sooo wonderful to see his heartbeat!" "OHMAHGAH I was just BAWLING." TURNS OUT THEY ARE NOT LYING PEOPLE. It really is that cool. And when Cider put his little arm up to his forehead and rested it there a moment? Words. just. fail.

Holy God, there's actually a baby in there

Probably could have made a sweater

Say hello to Chan again. This is Chan in Bud's yard in Texas, post-brushing. No, that is not snow. What I love best about this picture is how he's just chilling all, yeah it looks like two dogs fought behind me and neither one won. So?

And the boobs hurt, sorry mom

Turns out I was off in my counting and so this past Saturday I was ten weeks along. It was a little disappointing when Summer and I did the math over the phone and she said, "Yep, looks like you'll be ten weeks...this...Saturday." I moaned that it felt like I'd been between nine and ten weeks for what felt like nine months, shouldn't this baby be here already? And she remarked that she felt the same, most probably though because I suck at math. Even simple things like, when is your baby going to be born? Um, don't know, but we're hoping sometime this year because that way we can get the hydrangeas in the ground in time.

The morning sickness that pretty much lasts all day has abated some, albeit with days that still sneak up on me and leave me lying in the bed wondering if I will ever be myself again. And that has been the hardest part I think, sort of a first trimester depression, like, Will this ever get better? What did it feel like to tackle housework with energy? Will I ever stop accusing almonds of being the fruit of Satan's womb? And other things like that. That is what I did not anticipate, feeling unhappy. Not just physically but psychologically because of the low energy and the dramatic internal monologue that keeps reminding me, with a little cackle, no, it will NOT get better. You WILL be one of the 15% of women who feels sick the entire time and guess what? Your stupid little rosy vision of ENJOYING pregnancy? THAT WAS A TRICK! And then my subconscious has a good little laugh at my expense.

So then on the days when I do have several hours of non-sick, or almost non-sick, I get a Thomas the Tank Engine feeling and nearly burst into my wretched office singing I THINK I CAN (my GOD, I've just discovered where Obama came up with his tag line!) or at least a feeling that the months ahead of me are do-able and I can finally start feeling the proper emotion of excitement. And DUDE, Cider is the size of a strawberry now! Look at how my baby grows!