Tic Tac Toe Bite

Over the past two weeks Russell has digressed to his former role as the fussy super villain whose sole goal is to bring down the powers of righteous peace and quiet and kill any already limited spare time that I have. Plus, he's decided that a scheduled nap time just isn't his cup of tea anymore and could I please just hold him while he plays with his toys because the ground is all of a sudden too hard for his delicate baby backside! I didn't know what his problem was - all I knew is that something was rotten in the state of Conrad.

Then we were over at my sister-in-law's place for Christmas Eve where we played a marathon of Rook and Hearts and Russell army-crawled around the distance to the moon and back. He decided that it might be a good idea to crawl underneath the table and bite his Grandmother on the toe. As it turns out, it was a good idea because that is how we found out that dear, dear little Russ had just cut his very first tooth and he left a mark on Granny's toe to prove it. So that was what all the torturing Mommy and Daddy was about? Getting a tooth? Try getting your braces tightened or, better yet, your gall bladder removed!! It's a good thing that Mommy doesn't over-react like you do or Daddy would have moved out right after you were born!

Anyways, he has teeth which means he is more a toddler and less a baby which means he's growing up and he's doing it too fast!!

Happy New Year everyone! Enjoy those little "spots of time" where the clock pauses and you are able to appreciate just how blessed your own life really is.

J

And Then There Were 77...Organs That is

My gall bladder is gone and I have four holes in my stomach to prove it! Unfortunately, they did not let me keep it or even take a picture of the pesky appendage. Everything went well though - at least as well as can been expected - and for the last few days I have felt like absolute crap! Nevertheless, I am alive and semi-well.

The only time I got scared was when they wheeled me into the O.R. and I had to let go of Ken's hand as he wasn't allowed to accompany me in. I saw those big lights overhead - people in scrubs busied themselves preparing this and that for the surgery and I thought to myself "what if I fall asleep and just never wake up?" I wasn't able to freak myself out for too long though because soon after and, without warning, the anesthetist sent me whirling into oblivion. Afterwards, Ken told me that when they started to wheel me away, the same worry invaded his thoughts and he felt the sudden urge to run after me. But...I woke up...so phew!

And soon I shall return to a normal but gall-bladderless existence a little wiser, a little lighter perhaps, and a little more grateful.

J

One Organ Short of a Full Set

Tomorrow I am finally going into surgery to get my gall bladder removed. So far, I haven't really been nervous about it but that's because I try not to think about it too often. It's a fairly simple surgery and, apparantly, the surgeon I have has done it many, many times. That all sounds great and I was feeling fine about everything until this morning when I made the mistake of watching a video of the surgery on YouTube (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ycvwAfx3yF0&feature=related) - don't you just love the music? It's pretty cool how they can just go in with two little tube-like tools and remove it without opening me up but it's also disgusting and nauseating to watch so beware. Wish me luck!

-J

Move over Men

Lately, as I've been out and about with Russell on walks or in shopping malls, I've made a very frustrating observation: the men are not moving. Let me explain.

In one instance I was walking on the right side of the sidewalk and a couple of men were walking towards me going in the opposite direction. Neither of them made any attempt to move over for the mother and her baby but kept walking straight as if I wasn't there. Out of curiosity for what might happen, I stayed the course as well and the man closest to me ended up bumping into the stroller with a grunt. He gave me a look like "how dare you take up my space." In that instant I secretly had the desire to mow him over completely. Is stepping down off the curb such a sacrifice??!!

On another occasion, I was shopping in the mall and Russ was just having an "I'm hungry so feed me right now or I'll keep screaming in your face!" type of fit. So I looked around for a seating area so I could make him a bottle. I'm not joking, in every single area a single man sat in the middle of the bench with arms and legs outstretched as though claiming the area entirely. Finally, unable to find any free space, I just sat down beside one of them; I was sitting so close, because the punk wouldn't move, that it looked as though he had his arm around me. Yet still he held his ground and looked as though he was about to get up at any moment to pee all over the bench to mark his territory!!

I sure hope this isn't a trend among male strangers out there who have formed some sort of "say no to motion" unspoken agreement signaled by hormones or pheromones or secret hand shakes or who knows what. Tis the season to move over, okay? Like Nike says, "Just do it."

J

Tis the Season

It took a lot of self control for me to wait until December to start decorating for the holiday season. Finally, December arrived and, voila, it's Christmas with the Conrads. Now all I have to do is finish making Russell's stocking.

J

P.S. I love the holiday fireplace channel!

The Curious Case of Russell Conrad

In my opinion, there are many things that Russell resembles: some sort of elf a-kin to Yoda or Dobby, Ken, or an 85 year old man. This pictures really brings out the latter in him don't you think? Too bad we didn't have a cane handy.

J

Catching Up

Today I talked to a friend that I haven't seen or talked to in years. It reminded me of the time he and my sister were in charge of the decorations for a Stake Youth activity (I was 14 and they were 16 at the time) and I volunteered to help them paint murals in my parent's garage. I flirted shamelessly with him and we soon became distracted by my great grandfather's wheel chair that was being stored there. He wheeled me down to the park where we lay in waiting for some unsuspecting passers-by to take advantage of. Then he pushed me down a great big muddy hill, pretending all along that he lost control of the wheel chair. I played my part perfectly and flew from the wheel chair (that was real), landing in a gross mud puddle at the bottom and faked that I couldn't move my legs. The joke became less funny when the couple we were "duping," genuinely concerned, ran down the hill to help me up. Rather than admit that we had played a joke on them, I continued to keep up the charade and let them help me back into the wheel chair. You would think that we might feel a little shame after that but...no...we just did it again to another couple but this time I pushed him down the hill. Awww...so stupid. We laughed and laughed and I had the hugest crush on him.

"The young are permanently in a state resembling intoxication." - Aristotle

J

The Mediocre Loser

There are some very fortunate women out there (a.k.a. freaks of nature) who snap back from having kids like a rubber band to their svelte pre-pregnant bodies. I,too, am like a rubber band but more like one of those bands that has been stretched around a dusty file folder for too long, is all dried out and won't go back to its former shape no matter how much you want it to. No, I am not one of "those" women. However, I do happen to know a few and when I think of them I get all bitter inside.

Therefore, I shall not dwell on how blessed they are but shall celebrate my own successes as fully distinguished and separate. Which leads me to announce that after 6 weeks of healthy eating and exercise I have reached my first milestone: I have lost 12 lbs!! I know, it's not all that impressive. The weight is coming off slowly but it's coming off. Only 30 more lbs to go...ugh. Man, I feel like a burger.

J

Modesty Patch

This laundry room sink has seen many a naked baby and they all come out of it smelling like lavender. Maybe that's why Russ is smiling so wide; he likes smelling like flowers.

J

My Husband's Brain

Just insert "Ken" where "Scientist" is. J

Jingle All the Way

Yesterday my mother-in-law, my sister-in-law and myself participated in the Jingle Bell Walk/Run for Arthritis in Heritage Park. It was a pretty cold morning but it was great to get out, get active, have fun with the girls and support a worthy cause at the same time. I forgot my Santa Clause hat but was supplied with an ample amount of bells to tie to myself. It was festive but boy did hearing those bells get old. Next time, if there is a next time, I will not forget the hat.

J

The Kearls: a.k.a. "The Hippies"

The older I get, the more and more I appreciate the relationships I have nurtured, and will continue to nurture, with family. I also think we start to look a lot more alike - a phenomena that the girls in the family all took note of recently.

Last week Russell experienced his first plane ride to Langley to visit his BC relatives - or "hippy" relatives as Ken likes to call them. They aren't especially liberal; in fact, they are quite conservative. However, Ken thinks anyone from BC is a hippy...haha...so I guess that makes me one to. I'm okay with that. Russ was a very good flier! He immediately fell asleep when the plane started moving and didn't wake up until the plane touched the ground again. It was great.

We were in Langley for four very eventful days of birthday parties, baby showers, marathon chats and Rook matches. It was great to be back in the comforting and welcoming arms of "home" but it's even better being back in the new home I have helped to create with my own growing family. I sure do have a great template though.

J

It's a Bird, It's a Plane. No - it's...a Crayon?

Who knew that a baby dressed up as a crayon could be so cute?? Seriously, this kid is so my hero!

The Snotacoughaclingasaurus!

Russ has a COLD! And in true male fashion, his reaction to being sick is hugely disproportionate to the severity of his sickness. My goodness, the boy is a stage 5 clinger. At first I thought it was really cute because he doesn't often like to cuddle for long periods of time but now, as I sit here in the pajamas that I haven't taken off yet with sneeze juice all over them and tissues and burp cloths tossed in various places because my son SCREAMS like I just pulled out every one of his nose hairs with tweezers when I put him down, I have realized it is definitely not cute. I have not yet reached the stage where I just need to put my disease-riddled child down yet and leave the room for his own safety because Mommy is going insane; however, I can definitely see how it could go in that direction. Let's just hope he gets better soon. Even now as I'm typing with sicko-baby in my lap, he's making these pitiful whining/wheezy noises. Poor Russ! And poor Mommy!

J

Caricature Ken

Last night Ken went to a Young Men's activity where they were taught how to draw caricatures of one another. He showed me all the pictures they drew and I was pretty impressed. So I asked him to share what he learned with me and we had a little portrait session at the kitchen table. He refused to draw me because apparently he was told to never attempt such a thing because he might offend me and then obviously the fallout would be divorce. Because I couldn't convince him in any way shape or form to draw me, I decided to draw him. Amazingly, my efforts did not result in a legal separation so I guess I did an acceptable job.

J

Why?

I do not often dwell on the shortsighted (a.k.a. stupid) things people do because I, myself, am so often a victim of stupidity. However, this particular incidence has been simmering in my mind for the past week just begging to be vented about. Thus, vent I shall...and perhaps ramble a bit.

Last week we packed up Russ and headed over to Balzac to check out the new mall in Calgary, Cross Iron Mills. I know, it's not the most creative activity we've ever come up with but, being short on ideas and desperate to escape boredom, we decided to see for ourselves what all the hype was about. It turned out to be exactly what we thought it would be: a bigger and shinier than usual, but somewhat unspecial, run of the mill mall (haha...did you catch the pun? Mill?). I mean, how impressive can a mall get - it's still a mall!

After an hour was spent walking through the entire thing, I started to get that I'm grumpy because I'm in a mall and there's something about mall lighting that gives me a headache and man, I can't stand being in shopping malls with crowds this long for no particular purpose and even saying the word "mall" so many times makes me anxious feeling. To be short, we quickly exited the building to breath a sigh of relief in the nippy fresh air outside....aaahhh. However, my relief was to be short lived.

As we walked through the parking lot to find our car, I observed a young couple emerging from their newly parked vehicle. I don't often stare at people but that woman was quite possibly one of the most beautiful women I have ever seen with long, flowing dark hair and big, thick-lashed blue eyes with a body that even extreme pilates-goers would kill for. She started walking towards the mall but then stopped suddenly mid-stride, held her own hair back and spit a gorilla sized wad of pink gum onto the cement with a "blech." She must have stuffed a whole pack of Hubba Bubba in her mouth to come up with a clod that big! The juxtaposition was jarring. And just two feet away from her was a garbage can! She then continued merrily on her perfect little way. I turned in disgust from the scene to strap Russ into his car seat, when my attention was diverted by a yelp. I turned back to find a poor man trying to pry his shoe from the sticky pink mass.

Lesson: Throw your gum in the trash...or even swallow it. I don't care if it stays in your digestive system for seven years as long as it doesn't stay on my shoe for seven days. No wonder chewing gum is illegal in Dubai!!

J

Avatars

I found this program (http://home.mywebface.com/faceApp/) where you can create your own little cartoon doppelganger. I know, it's pretty much a waste of time but, seriously, I'm at home all day with the wee babe - I have time! So I made a cartoon version of me and Ken. It was actually harder than I thought to capture our likenesses but voila. Do you think they look similar??

J

Sugar Snaps

If any of you have ever admired the pictures I post here it's probably because they were taken by my very talented sister-in-law, Karen. She's great with kids, babies, weddings and family photo shoots. Keep her in mind if you're ever interested in getting pictures taken for any occasion. Check out her website if you're thinking about it : http://www.wix.com/karenhudson/SugarSnaps-Final

The fall of Fall

Unfortunately, Autumn in Calgary this year seems to be short lived - pushed aside by that bully of a season that is Winter. It makes me sad because there are so many things I love about this time of the year: the beautiful shades of color that appear on the leaves and gracefully descend from the branches; the crispness in the air that hasn't yet evolved into the bite of Winter and that all-too-satisfying and nostalgic crunch of leaves underfoot. Aah...oh well...it was beautiful while it lasted.

Thankfully, Russ and I were able to get out and digitally document this blink of a season, filled with colour, cool air and yummy turkey. I hope you all had a wonderful Thanksgiving!

J

Better Than a Hamster Wheel

About a month ago, Ken and I purchased a brand new treadmill with a little financial assistance from the folks. And what I mean by "folks" is my ever-so ready to help you get thin and out of your maternity clothes that you've been wearing ever since you had a baby five months ago mother. Although the concept of being "thin" is somewhat abstract and foreign to me I have, in fact, been using the treadmill regularly and have discovered - or rather re-discovered - that I HATE running. I love the idea of running but the actual running part pretty much sucks.

The first time I decided to use that torturous conveyor belt I felt as though my body was not my own. I could have sworn my legs used to work properly and that at one point in my life running didn't cause my lungs to spontaneously combust. It was utterly and unequivocally pathetic. However, I am proud to say that after running for 30 minutes three times a week for the last month, my performance has improved dramatically even if my attitude towards running hasn't.

The one great thing about a treadmill is that it keeps you moving whether you want to or not; all you have to do is stay on. Maybe one day I will come to love running. Okay, probably not. Love? No. But tolerate? It's possible. One can only hope. Wish me luck (because I need it)!

J

But Where Are his Powers?

My family has taken quite a liking to calling my four and a half month old son "Dobby." At first, I was not so kean about this playful teasing, but now I kind of get it. There IS a slight resemblance. You be the judge.

J

A Glee Gush

In highschool I was the typical jock who didn't really stray far from the gymnasium. I had found my adolescent niche, I was good at what I did and I was well-liked by my peers. Though it wasn't the highlight of my existence, I loved highschool. It was easy and fun. However, I have but one regret: why, oh why did I not mix sweat with solos - volleyball with vocal - deaks with dance - homeruns with harmony - jockism with jazz hands?!? Because I would have looked absolutely ridiculous, that's why. But I would have loved every minute of it! Just like I love every minute of watching my new favorite show, GLEE. Hurray for vicarious living...in the past. Did that make sense?

J

Finding the Right Fit

Ever since we got married, Ken has, almost without fail, checked the listings on realtor.ca to browse through his dream houses. I, on the other hand, thought that such an activity was merely wishful thinking and somewhat futile, considering that we wouldn't be in the market for a house for at least a couple of years. So why get excited about something you know you can't buy? It's as frustrating as window shopping - man, do I hate window shopping!


However, just recently Ken and I have started to look into buying our first home and I can't tell you how incredibly obsessive compulsive I have become about checking the listings. The possibilities are definitely not endless - we only have so much money to spend - but I now love looking at all the pictures and imagining what furniture would go where and what colour I would paint the walls. It brings up a lot of questions though because before, I never really thought about what exactly I wanted because I saw owning a house as something so far away from the present. So now I have to ask myself all these questions: should we sacrifice square footage for location? Should we invest in sweat equity or go for something that wouldn't require much work? Is a garage more important than yard space? Attached, detached, semi-detached? Basement suite? 3 bedrooms or 4? How many kids do I think I'm going to have anyway?! And mortgages - the mind boggles!


It will probably take us another year just to figure out what we want. Maybe window shopping isn't so bad after all - as long as it's for houses.

Marriage: a competition?

One thing that you need to know about me and Ken is that we are both very competitive people. This personality trait is quite an advantage when we are on the same team/page but when we aren't...well, let's just say that things can get quite "colorful."

Most of the time our competitive constitutions center around who is right and who is an idiot. Examples of this "friendly fire" vary from things as important as whose family should our kid(s) go to if we die? to things as unimportant as who has the most accurate finger flicking aim in croquenot? And while the majority of our banter is, indeed, benign - it can, on occasion take on a more fiendish aspect that results in wounded pride or sore ribs (from the mother of all evils: poking attacks!). Consequently, on "one of those days" a venerable amount of our pillow talk time can be taken up apologizing and laughing about how stupid we are...haha.

You know what, though? I would rather remain in a repartee with Ken for eternity than spend a lifetime getting along perfectly with anyone else. Feel free to gag, scoff and/or mock but the fact remains that even when we attempt to refute and retaliate, defend and disprove - in the end, we always let our relationship win. And that will now, and forever, make all the difference.

J

The Test

I haven't really done any considerable or cardiovascular intensive activities since I first became pregnant a little over a year ago. So when Ken suggested that we do a hike in Banff on Saturday, I was a little hesitant to even attempt it considering my poor conditioning. However, with a little cajoling from him and a goal in mind, we set out for Johnston Canyon with little Russ in tow.

I don't know why but I felt that it was my duty as a mother to carry my 12.5lb son all 6.5k up and all 6.5 k down the trail strapped to my chest. It was a compulsion that I can't quite explain - almost like a natural instinct. Mothers for centuries have worked in the fields or in the house with babies strapped to their backs or hips so it seemed to me more like an honor to entangle myself in the tradition. That was before we started the hike.

I soon discovered that an extra 12.5lbs added to the extra pounds I was already carrying made quite a difference but I was determined to make it the whole way without complaint and be happy about it. I can't say that I was happy the entire way and my romanticized vision of motherly tradition became somewhat altered , to say the least (Ken will probably carry the baby next time...haha), but I didn't complain and the hike was beautiful. I was also quite pleased that I had exceeded Ken's expectations. Although he didn't say it, I'm pretty sure he thought I would only make it to the upper falls and then give up before the "ink pots". Take that, Ken! I went double the distance and carrying a baby to boot! I don't want to boast or anything, but I was pretty awesome.

And, thus, baby Russ completed his first hike ever without even killing his mother.

My Little Smiler

I just love that Russell smiles all the time now and the other day he actually laughed! A baby laugh is just the most adorable thing in the world.

Sick and Tired of Being Sick and Tired

About a month ago I woke up suddenly in the middle of the night expecting to see my stomach slashed and all of my vitals organs lying nicely in a steaming pile on the floor. Fortunately, no such event occurred. However, the excruciating pain emanating from some unknown place in my abdomen had led me to believe that I had been the first victim in a B-list slasher flick. I rushed myself to the hospital, was admitted to emergency and, after blood and urine tests, then later an ultrasound, discovered that, no, I had not somehow unwittingly swallowed shards of glass, I had gall stones. Apparently, during pregnancy, my Godzilla-sized uterus managed to cause build up in my bile duct.

I was relieved to know what was wrong but have since suffered several more excruciating attacks which have prompted more trips to emergency just to make the pain go away. THEN about two weeks ago, I started to get incredibly lethargic and discovered at a doctor's appointment that I was jaundiced. The gall stones were now starting to interfere with my liver function causing increased billirubin levels. THEN my entire body started to itch like it was entirely covered in mosquito bites (another symptom of a liver function problem). THEN, I became nauseous.

The only cure for gall stones is to remove the gall bladder entirely and, frankly, I am all for that if it means I can feel normal again. GET THAT MUTHA'-TRUCKA' OUT OF ME! I have an appointment with the surgeon this Wednesday so, if all goes well, I'll have a surgery booked pretty soon and can finally get my life back. We'll see.

J

15 Books in 15 Minutes

Laura posted this in her latest blog and I thought I would carry the torch.

The instructions are to come up with 15 books in no more than 15 mintues that have stuck with you, for better for for worse. Here is my list, feel free to post your own:

1. A Dog Called Kitty - Bill Wallace (My favorite book in grade 4)
2. Treasure Island - Robert Louis Stevenson
3. The Chronicles of Narnia series - C.S. Lewis
4. Mother West Wind Why and How Stories - Thornton W. Burgess (My father read these to me before bed as a child. Sentimentally awesome)
5. Children of the Promise series - Dean Hughes ( a Mormon series set in WW II)
6. East of Eden - John Steinbeck (I don't know who can beat this kind of story-telling)
7. An Instance of the Fingerpost - Ian Pears (a loooong but interesting murder mystery as told by four very unreliable narrators that also describes scientific thought in Restoration Europe. It entertains to teach.)
8. The Alchemist - Paulo Coelho (a spiritual allegory)
9. The Outsider - Albert Camus (the epitome of existentialism)
10. To Kill a Mockingbird - Harper Lee
11. Green Grass, Running Water - Thomas King (formatted to represent Native American oral story telling. Quite interesting and hilarious.)
12. Les Miserables - Victor Hugo (One of the most moving books I've ever read)
13. Dune series - Frank Herbert (a science fiction metaphor for the politics and religious extremism surrounding the middle east and its natural resources)
14. The Fall of a Titan - Igor Gouzenko (Oh how the mighty hath fallen! An extremely powerful cautionary tale of moral descent set in Communist Russia)
15. Wild Geese - Martha Ostenso (A poignant take of Canadian prairie isolationism)

Like Laura, I would also love to read your lists. Sometimes it's funny what sticks with us.

J

When He Grows Up...

As little kids, and even into our teenage years, I think we all remember thinking or saying "When I grow up I'm going to be a...". Well now I find myself thinking about my own little baby. What sport is he going to play if any? What things is he going to take an interest in? Is he going to be a number crunching, logistical super geek like his Dad or a passionate, arts loving, literature buff like his Mom? Maybe both. Maybe neither. All I know is that whatever this little boy of mine decides he wants to do, I will always be one proud mother...unless what he wants to do is sniff glue or hold a Guiness World Record for the most amount of hair plucked out of an individual by a pair of tweezers. My son, "the hairless wonder." It has a nice ring to it, don't you think?

J

Characters Worth Remembering

I'm an English major, which means I've read a lot of books in my day. Therefore, last night as I held my darling baby in my arms and tried to block out his cantankerous caterwauls, a random question entered my mind: out of all the literature I've ever read, what five characters are my favorite and why? It was difficult to whittle it down (and I have more favorites) but here it is:

1. MAX from Where the Wild Thing Are by Maurice Sendak. This was one of my favorite books as a child. I have always been a bit of a tom-boy but at one point in my childhood I actually fancied myself a boy and would run around with my shirt off swinging one of my father's socks around with a tennis ball in the end. So when I read this story about a boy who was sent to his room for chasing his dog with a fork and growling at his Mom while wearing a wolf costume only to be transported to the land of the Wild Things where he eventually becomes King - well, what mischief making child wouldn't dream of such an adventure??

2. JIM HAWKINS from Treasure Island by Robert Louis Stevenson. I've read this book about ten times and it still doesn't get old. Pirates, buried treasure, sword play, treachery, and triumph. These are the perfect ingredients to inspire a child's imagination. Did I mention there are pirates? Are we seeing a theme yet? Child empowerment anyone?

3. ALGERNON ("ALGY") MONCRIEFF from The Importance of Being Earnest by Oscar Wilde. Although he's a spoiled London aristocrat, he's just so incredibly witty and hilarious that his immoral and pretentious sensibilities seem like more of a virtue than a vice. I've always admired wit and being able to say exactly what you mean, when you mean to say it and in the cleverest way possible.

4. ELIZABETH BENNET from Pride and Prejudice by Jane Austin. I admire how Elizabeth is intelligent, witty and is able to stray (albeit slightly) from her society's expectations of her and still be rewarded for her deviation. Plus, I love how she is able to insult in a sophisticated way. If only I had that talent - not that I want to insult people.

5. SCOUT FINCH from To Kill a Mockingbird by Harper Lee. Even though she's fictitious, I have such an admiration for this little girl - her spunk and tenacity - as well as her adamant loyalty to her father and his morals. Plus, she's a tom-boy just like I was. There is just such an innocent charm to her rationale and a charming naivete to her narrative.

I'm curious. What are your favorite fictitious characters from literature?

J

The Human EMP

Electronics and me are like oil and water; bleach and ammonia; baking soda and vinegar. I'm sure there are a plethora of other comparisons to be made but the point is this: God thought it would be a great joke to make me a human electro-magnetic pulse. Why? Who knows. What I DO know is that 9 times out of 10 (this instant being that elusive but safe 10%) my dark gift is manifest in blinking blue screens of death on the computer, system failures, electric shocks, viruses, and all manner of mishaps that Ken blames on me for merely looking at an electronic device.

Perhaps one day we will discover a scientific explanation for all of this like my ability to generate electromagnetic forces that I can't yet control or something in my plasma that allows me to emit light energy blasts. Or maybe...those are just character descriptions from X-Men? I guess we'll never know. For now, keep your electronics hidden because who knows when I'll strike next!

And Then it Happened Some More

When we got to the hospital we were instantly set up in a triage room. The nurse then had the audacity to ask, "Why are you here?" I knew she was just doing her job but, seriously, are you blind? I'M HAVING A FREAKING BABY! I didn't have the patience to answer any of her questions after she offended me with the first so I remained mute while Ken spoke for me. Meanwhile, down the hall, I could hear a group of nurses chatting and laughing (and quite loudly I might add) which only further kindled my anger. What is this? A party on the third floor PLC prenatal triage unit? Come on people. I am not laughing through this contraction, therefore, you shall not laugh...EVER. These were the type of thoughts running through my brain but I neither had the energy nor the focus to actually speak them out loud. I was preoccupied with other matters like willing my cervix to dilate as quickly as possible.

My Jedi skills must have worked because when the doctor finally came to check me I was 7cm dilated and I had only been in triage for 30 minutes! They asked me if I wanted an epidural but by the time I got to the labour and delivery room I was 8cm dilated so I decided to just go with the pain. Plus, there was no way I would be able to lean over and stay still while they shoved a needle down my back.

Don't think that Ken was doing nothing all that while. Well, actually, he was doing nothing, but that's only because I wouldn't let him touch me or talk to me. I barely even opened my eyes through the whole labour ( I found out afterwards when I looked in the mirror that this was because my eye lids were crazy swollen). However, he did serve as a good water and ice chip boy...which was much appreciated.

Finally the moment came: a 10cm dilation and the urge to push. I was so excited! Little did I know that I would be pushing for an hour and a half. I swear in all the movies, the girl gives like 5 good pushes and the baby's out. Was it so unrealistic to expect the same thing? Push after push the doctor kept saying, "You're almost there." By the 20th push I was convinced that she was a compulsive liar, that the baby's head wasn't "right there" and that they would soon have to suction my poor baby out of my lifeless body. But then, eureka, with one last push, the baby shot out (quite literally) and I was soon holding the most adorable blob of goo and amniotic fluid I had ever seen. After 6 1/2 hours of labour, 25 stitches and a plethora of broken blood vessels, Ken and I were gushing over the newest addition to the family. Introducing Russell Ross Conrad - lately pronounced "Wussell Woss". We're going to give our kid a speech impediment but, hey, he's alive...for now.


J

And Then it Happened

Because I have just undergone a massive life-altering event (the birth of my first child), I find it necessary to chronicle the details of his emergence into the world. And so it begins...

I was due April 29th but had been told numerous times not to expect the baby to come on the actual due date as this was quite an improbablity; only something like 1% of deliveries take place when they are supposed to. Anyways, on the night of April 28th Ken and I settled in for a peaceful night's sleep that would soon prove to be not so peaceful. I experienced a strange dream where I would see myself from a bird's eye view in labour. That might not seem so strange but then throw me into a hospital bed in a meadow full of flowers on top of a mountain being watched by a purple Lynx and suddenly it gets a lot stranger. This dream reoccurred at least four times and on the fourth time, I began to feel this awful and uncomfortable tightening in my lower abdomen - and more precisley, my uterus. The feeling woke me up and at 4:17 am I soon realized that I was having contractions and they were already seven minutes apart!

I waited until I had four regular contractions before I turned to Ken, shook his shoulder and said, "Oh Kenny-boy, we're going to have a baby...like literally...and in the very near future." Normally, it would have taken my sleeping beauty a full five minutes to recover his senses, stretch, yawn, turn over onto his side and rub his eyes before waking from his slumber but this time he threw back the covers, instantly jumped out of bed and cried, "Are we ready? Do we have everything? How far part are the contractions?" while he rummaged around in the desk for a paper and pen to record the contraction times. At this point, the contractions were still light enough that my face was able to register my amusement.

Within an hour the contractions became closer and closer together and more and more uncomfortable until it was time to make that ancient and well-travelled journey: the trek to the hospital.

...to be continued...

-J

Craving

Just a moment ago I felt the great need to devour a piece of creamy, delicious chocolate and absant-mindedly expressed this desire to my husband, who wisely (and curtly) responded like so: "But we just had dinner. If you're still hungry, have an apple or something." Oh Ken, you just don't understand. One does not eat chocolate because one is hungry. Being hungry has nothing to do with it, unless, of course he meant "hungry" as in desirous as opposed to a condition resulting from a lack of food. I strongly infer that based on his usage of the word, Ken meant the latter. I apologize - I digress. The point is, sometimes a gal just needs a palatable pick-me-up and chocolate is a prime candidate for pick-me-up-ness. I think someone needs to explain what a "craving" is to this husband of mine and then remind him of his obligation -nay duty - to indulge my cravings (at least every once in a while), given my "delicate" state. Eat an apple! I scoff at the very idea.

J

Sleeping Beauty

I just have to say that there is nothing worse than being forced to breath through your mouth while sleeping at night to accomodate that nasty reoccurrence: the stuffy nose. I certainly did not wake up feeling refreshed, unless "refreshed" feels like a residued mouth and hairy teeth. Moreover, discovering a few saliva stains on the pillow was just the icing on the cake. Take a hike congestion - I need my beauty rest because no straight thinking person would ever kiss this morning glory.

"Luke" Vetoed

They say that speaking to your baby whilst he/she is still in the womb will help the baby recognize your voice and, therefore, make bonding after birth more seamless. This piece of information was reiterated to Ken and I at our last prenatal class and since then, Ken has made more of a conscious effort to speak to the baby through the many protruding layers of my stomach.

I soon discovered, however, that Ken's version of "bonding" was speaking to the baby in a hypnotic, Darth Vaderesque voice and telling him how much better his Daddy is than his Mommy. For example,

Ken: Hellooooo baby. This is your Daddy speaking. Listen to MY voice and not to
Mommy's because Mommy doesn't love you as much as I do. Mommy is always
complaining about you kicking her in the ribs but if you were kicking ME in the ribs I
would consider it a great privilege. Did you know that -OUCH.....!

And this is when I might let Ken know what the baby kicks feel like by poking him mercilessly in the ribs. Now the baby will learn to distinguish between that imposter, Darth Vader, and the common wimperings of his real father.

J

Oh Happy Day!

Shortly after my last post, the hot water returned to our building. You may be relieved to know that no harm or accident befell Ken. My kindling wrath was doused quite quickly by a soapy, hot shower...aaahhh. I would, however, like to extend a warm thanks to those who, either out of sympathy for my showerless state or out of a concern for Ken's safety, kindly offered their warm showers for my useage. All is right in the world - at least for now.

J

Casualty of Discomfort

What a beautiful thing a lovely warm/hot shower is. It gently awakens you into morning awareness and relaxes the aching muscles of a restless sleep. But, oh, how I have taken this every-day luxury for granted.

For the past four days I have been without the comfort of a hot shower - as have the rest of the tenants in my building. Thank you landlord for speedily solving this problem (heavy sarcasm intended). Yesterday I couldn't stand my non-hygienical state any longer and braved the icey spray. Big mistake; I couldn't stop shaking for an hour afterwards and felt as though all the energy I had ever possessed had evaporated into airy thinness.

If I don't get a warm shower soon, someone is going to have to bear the brunt of my unease and, since proximity is key, it will most likely be my innocent husband. Poor Ken. Is it okay to be evil to someone if you warn them in advance?

J

Lost and Found

It has many names: "pregnancy brain," "baby brain drain," and, as my mother calls it, "prenatal brain fog." It's a "condition" experienced by expectant mothers often characterized by short term memory loss, forgetfullness and absant mindedness. Some say such a condition is a myth but I say screw you baby-brain nay sayers; there has to be some reason my gray matter has turned to mush!

Today I left my wallet at the cashier counter (I kid you not) three times! The first two times, the cashiers were kind enough to run my wallet out to me as I was obliviously vacating the store. The third time, a kind and ever-so beloved fellow-patron at Subway mentioned that he had seen a ladies wallet at the cashier counter and wisely advised that I check to see if I had misplaced mine. A mind that so carelessly and cavalierly capitualtes her cash is a confounded mind indeed (too much alliteration?).

It continues. Last night while watching Jeopordy, I missed the Thomas Hardy reference and confused Operation Torch with Operation Barbarossa, proving that I am not "far from the madding crowd" but smack dab in the middle of it. What kind of English/History major am I? This baby better be brilliant because he's sucking the smart out of me like a Peter's milkashake through a straw.

Hoping to return to the land of the learned soon,
J

P.S. I don't hate my baby.

Let the Wild Rumpus Start

I spend my days working with children of all ages and am consistently amazed by what incredibly imaginative, random and largely ludicrous comments they make. It almost makes up for their manushydrosopaphobic (my version of a hand washing phobia), paper ripping, water spilling, Kleenex avoiding, work stalling, and table kicking predilections. Today’s example: "Max" – a seven year old, sandy haired boy with a gift for masticating rubber erasers.

Today Max was in fine form, deftly appropriating my wrapper-fresh Staedtler Mars Plastic eraser. After rescuing the innocent chunk of rubber from his vice-like jaws, we started to discuss the orthographic tendencies involved in spelling the word “back” (i.e. discovering what letters/letter combinations can make the /k/ sound and then testing each option). While this activity proved to be incredibly engrossing to the small boy, somehow (surprising, I know) his attention was diverted to drawing pictures in the margins of the lined paper.

I decided to indulge him for a few minutes and asked him about what he was drawing. He showed me a charming set of monsters, each in the process of either tearing or burning some poor stick person to pieces. A conversation ensued as follows:

J: Are your monsters good or bad?
M: Definitely good...but they're not MY monsters.
J: Whose are they then?
M: They're the monsters that fight for God.
J: But doesn't God have angels to do that?
M: Ya, but angels can't pee fire!

Touche, Max. Touche,
J

Cuddling Conundrum

My husband and I have been trying to solve this problem for the longest time : where to comfortably place your lower arms when your cuddling face to face in bed at night. Thanks to our favorite web comic (http://xkcd.com/335/) - solution found.


Need I say more?
J

Blog Virgin

Last night I became acutely aware of my complete lack of blog savy. As two close friends freely chatted about their favorite bloggers, I became a little absorbed in an internal dialogue. I haven't even read a blog before? Am I a bad friend for not reading the blogs of friends and family? Am I ready to jump on the blog bandwagon myself and rid myself of the clearly embarassing title of blog virgin? Isn't "blog" an amusing word? Not much of a "dialogue" in the true sense of the word, I know, but it obviously did the trick. This was my first time and it wasn't so scary. Plus, it gets more enjoyable with time and practice right?

A blog virgin no more,
J