Tuesday, August 22, 2006


If you'd like to see pics of the li'l one, check them out here and here. The second "here" shows the full array of shots from yesterday. S/he moves around a lot, and either wasn't trying very hard or really can't touch his/her toes yet. Ah, the flexibility of papa Steve. Also, seems to know how to start directing an orchestra (raised hand high) or got really into the praise & worship in his/her. Not sure which. Hm... other notables -- see the picture where s/he's waving at us? If you took that shot at a different angle, both hands are palm to palm as if s/he were praying.

I'm looking forward to the day I can drop that slash (and maybe one letter, we shall see) from this whole s/he business.

Ah, yes, and the best news: I was right. Due date confirmed for February 17th. I still may say "around valentine's day" just so people can remember easier. HAHA doc! Take THAT! :) (see this post if you don't understand where this is coming from.)

Friday, August 18, 2006

Baby Names?
Take your pick!

Thursday, August 17, 2006


This is the equivalent of a master's thesis, and has been the bane of our existence (okay, HIS existence, it really hasn't affected me except that I've made dinner more often lately) for the last two or three months. Yesterday I proof-read. It felt much like the one academic economics paper I read in undergrad. I enjoyed the introductory paragraphs. I grasped the lit review, I even understood the conclusion. The masses of pages (which, I dutifully read) of a mix of math and prose BETWEEN the intro/lit review and conclusion, however, were utterly incomprehensible. I could READ it, I could go line by line, I could even find a few places where Steve had left out a necessary conjunction or pronoun. That said, I could NOT understand it. It was like reading while riding in a van in the middle of the night, where streetlights pass only every couple of seconds to illuminate your page. You try to read straight through, as if you could, but the text only becomes clear (or understandable in my case) to you every couple of seconds. Then it goes dark again. In the end, because of the darkness, you end up loosing much of the argument altogether. For me, the dark parts tended to be the math. LOTS of Greek symbols. Ah yes, "honey, it's all Greek to me."

That said, it's now only a matter of hours away from being done! And then he MUST turn it in and walk away. We cross our fingers and hope for a "pass" after this, but the WORK is DONE!

THIS deserves a "woot." ... "WOOT." What the heck, let's be wild. TWO woots. "WOOT WOOT!"

-Your personal cheerleader.

Wednesday, August 16, 2006


My doctor and I disagree. She says my due date is Feb 8th, based on my last cycle. I say it's Feb 18th, based on what the sonographer told me at early ultrasounds (unfortunately, my doc doesn't have a record of this) and based on the middle-of-the-night cramping that came about ten days after I expected it to.

I'm tired of trying to figure things out with both numbers in mind. I didn't want to feel like the first trimester was over until the later date for the end of the first trimester (which was August 6th, instead of July 27th) just to be clear, but then my doc keeps scheduling things for my OTHER date, so I've got to keep both in mind. For example, right now I'm simotaneously 13 weeks, three days along and one day away from the start of my 15th week. Confusing, eh? I thought I'd have had it figured out by now, that my doc would have relented, but it hasn't happened.

Given that the gestational period of a woman varies from woman to woman and pregnancy to pregnancy by up to two weeks on either side of a due date, and given that the "due date" is just an approximation anyway, and yet given that EVERYONE asks you on a regular basis how far along you are and it's way too confusing to most to say, "Well, my doc things THIS, but I know I ovulated late, so it's THIS" -- especially since most people don't want to really ever HEAR the word "ovulate" much less know that you know when it last happened to you -- I've decided to compromise.

It would make sense to take the middle date, February 13th, but let's face it, (a) I know I'm more right than my doctor, so it should be closer to my date, (b) 13 is an ugly number, and (c) it's only ONE DAY off from Valentine's day. So, what the heck, since I know I'm more right than my doctor, I'm now declaring it, as officially as I can:

Our baby is due on February 14th. Valentine's Day.

Now I've gotta figure out how far along I am based on this new information...

Ah, nice. I've just started my 14th week. This is the week that I might first feel the flutter of tiny feet in my belly. Unlikely, but possible. And I'm now through the "sick" stage (which I already knew). I have exactly 26 weeks to go, so 65% of my pregnancy left, and for this 2/3rds, I'll "know" how far along I am. No more keeping track of two dates.

Friday, August 11, 2006


Which Princess Bride Character are You?

Thursday, August 10, 2006

Well this is a bit Ironic.


Which Princess Bride Character are You?
this quiz was made by mysti

In case you haven't heard, you should be aware of this:



All I have to say is, wow.

Tuesday, August 08, 2006

Greg Boyd Article

As many of you know, Greg Boyd, former professor of my alma matter, has been making the news a bit lately. When cleaning out my spam trap/junk mail box, I ran across this link to a "news article." Seeing as it was on a former professor of my alma matter, I thought I'd check it out.

And then I learned a lesson that all should note. What is traped by a spam trap or junked by a mail box, is best left trapped, as it is likely to be just that: junk.

Angered by the poor arguments of this author, who is (I guess) well-renowned and all that (I read his bio), I wrote this.

Please, feel free to comment (on either the link or my response). Steve says I should "get some discussion going, make some people mad, that's what blogs are for." This is my attempt at that.

I'm a wimp.

In my mind, I've set the meeting for next week. Won't do it this week.

Therefore, I'm a wimp.

Think of me next Tuesday. (Or Wed, or Thursday...)

Tuesday, August 01, 2006


Over the last day or so I've slowly come to the realization that I have a belly. I've always had a "soft figure," but now it's an official belly. Like, one you could set a book on if you wanted to hold it up while you're reading. (Actually, that's kind of cool. I haven't tried using it for that yet. I should.) That realization that the belly is now a part of my being just happened again. I forget sometimes. I went to the fridge to grab some ginger ale, looked down, and "EUREKA! It's a BELLY!"

I'm very worried about this, because I have not yet told Mr. Boss Man, and don't particularity WANT to tell Mr. Boss Man, but know that I must tell Mr. Boss Man before he guesses, if things are to go smoothly. Now that I'm a third of the way through this whole adventure, it's about time to tell him. Of that I'm acutely aware. So, how much longer can I keep this a secret?

When I first discovered the belly yesterday, I asked a dear (and anonomous) friend if said friend thought I was showing yet. Friend said, "No, you just look like you gained weight." "So, I look fat?" "Yeah, but... no, because your face looks the same." "So, I look like I'm showing, then?" "Well... um..." "Have I ever looked this fat before?" "No, you look fatter now than you ever have before." Hearing this was, well, strangly comforting. At least I'm charting new territory.

Right. So, it's getting to be time. Wish me luck! In a week's time (or two, if I'm really chicken) Mr. Boss Man will know. And work may never be the same again.

A side note, I went out to eat with a couple of coworkers yesterday. One is particularly health-conscious. I wonder what he thought as I chowed down on the all-you-can-eat chips before my food (and after my food) came. He didn't touch the chips. Probably was thinking, "Look at what it did to this poor girl! She just keeps getting fatter! Does she realize it? Really, she should stop. Should I say something?" Meanwhile, I ignored his looks, and kept on eating. Yum. Corn chips. Yum, eating.

This page is powered by Blogger. Isn't yours?