Happy Hallo-wizzle Schnizzle!

I thought I could make myself stand out amongst the others in your Google Reader with that title.

The important stuff:

Biggie slept the whole time we trick-or-treated.

THE END

PS - That was a ballet costume from high school. 1000 points for me for fitting into it OVER my jeans & shirt, even though I weigh 30 more pounds right now than I did back then (extra 10 lbs per boob, remainder spread like delicious frosting layer over midsection). God Bless Spandex. And America. And Reese's Peanut Butter Cups.

THE END FOR REALS

Enjoy Every Minute...It All Goes So Fast

When I was days away from delivering Oliver, a 60-something woman in the gym locker room smiled at my enormous shape dressed in one of the few maternity dresses that still fit me. She was heading to her swim aerobics class and I was just finishing up getting ready for the day after swimming in the pool - a type of exercise I don't really like, but it was all I was physically able to do at that point. She told me about how her neighbor, a woman in her thirties, was not enjoying her pregnancy. This kindly older woman just couldn't understand it. She had loved being pregnant! It was the best time! Didn't I think it was the most special time of my life?

I couldn't stop myself. I smiled back at her and said sweetly, "I threw up this morning."

Because I had. Of course I then played it off with a laugh, sharing that my morning sickness had come back and I was just feeling a bit tired because I also had a toddler, but I was trying to enjoy it, blah blah. I can't actually be an asshole to random strangers, though I might want to at times.

This type of interaction happens on a regular basis to me and I imagine to most people with young kids. I always smile and chat with the stranger, but the truth is that I get so frustrated every time one of them gives me the "Enjoy every minute! It all goes so fast." spiel.

Because right now? I am not enjoying every minute. I am so horribly sleep deprived and I feel like I'm functioning at such a low level. I continue to force myself to do regular things - cook dinner some nights, bring the kids to the library, keep up with the chores, but it's ridiculously difficult to slog through the day. So when it comes to the passage of time? I do want it to go fast. It can speed right through the next few weeks of truly terrible sleep and bring me to a time when both kids are sleeping relatively well.

This makes me feel like a bad person: a whiner, a complainer, negative. I really want to be loving this time. But I am having the hardest time soaking it all in and basking in the pleasure of it all when I feel physically compromised much of the time - first with a rough pregnancy, then with a challenging postpartum period, and most recently with the sleep deprivation. It makes me mad that this supposedly delightful time is marred with what amounts to normal life stuff. Because all my "hardships"? NORMAL. COMMON. And there we go back to the first sentence of this paragraph.

This is not to say I don't savor sweet moments. I do every single day. Every day I laugh out loud and feel joy and absolute delight at this life I'm living. Husband and I will look at each other over the kids heads and smile so contentedly to each other that it would be incredibly disgusting to anyone else who saw it. I keep track of the happiness in my writing and take pictures often. I make myself slow down during those happy times and just be.

But enjoy every minute? FUCK NO.

Because I did not enjoy vomiting during pregnancy while a toddler climbed on my back. That was a time that could not go fast enough. I also struggled to enjoy gazing on my jaundiced newborn glowing in his bili-bed while I felt like warmed-over death after my postpartum hemorrhage. That was another time that life could move along at a rapid clip without complaint from me. And now, after a night of 10 wake-ups, I dealt with a full hour of crisis management - crisis of the baby/toddler sort, obvs - running from the crying baby who just woke up to the screaming toddler who just fell while climbing furniture back to the crying baby because he rolled over and got stuck and then back to the toddler who needed help pooping right back to the crying baby who needed holding and then back to the toddler who stuck a big piece of super-sticky moleskin to her hair to fix her boo-boo thus creating a new boo-boo. I can assure you that these were minutes I did not enjoy! Eventually I found myself nursing a fussy baby while the toddler danced around me naked, begging me to make a tent with her. Oliver began to smile and coo and I forced myself to really SEE him and smile and coo back, but every nerve ending was fried after last night's non-sleep and I just wanted to hide under my bed and cry. I swear if you had touched me you would have felt electric prickles.

I can see my luckiness all around me every day and I am grateful for it, often listing what I am grateful for in my head. Healthy Husband and children. Healthy self. Happy marriage. Nice home in a great neighborhood. Vacation coming up. Parents coming to visit and help out when Husband has two long business trips next month. Husband has a good job. I am doing exactly what I want to be doing by staying at home. We have enough disposable income to pay a baby-sitter to come over two mornings a week. The list goes on forever. I have A LOT. Too much. I don't deserve it.

But I'm not enjoying every minute of my children's early days. And frankly, right now it's quite OK with me that it all goes so fast.

Hodge-Podge (Photo Bomb Style)

Thank you so much to everyone who commented on my drama llama post about sleeping. You all gave me lots of suggestions, some of which I hadn't even heard of so thank you, thank you, thank you. And I totally forgot AGAIN about the 4-month sleep regression thing. Because brain = broken. The reminder that there are many others in my boat is reassuring. Plus things aren't so bad. Bella is back to being a happy camper since her 2-year molars came in and naps daily AND the kids naps & bedtimes have synced up - yippee!

Now onto today's important matters.

Item 1.0: I trust you Endust?
I had a few minutes to myself today and I picked up my November Martha Stewart Magazine, the very same one that I have studiously ignored since seeing that it had an article about the charms of taxidermy (!?!). I absentmindedly flipped through it until I came to this ad:

Re-he-he-heally? Marketing team, tell me who praytell, is your target market? WHO? Because I suspect it's me. And OMG, no. Just no.

OMG, LOL, right? Not ROFL, but LOL. Or maybe not quite LOL. Maybe more SQIMH*.

*snicker quietly into my hand

Item 1.54: Like Father, Like Son
My friend Susan gave Oliver the most awesome baby gift one could give the son of a William & Mary alum. BOOM!

How cute is Biggie in his W&M sweatshirt? I tried to replace Husband's well-worn version last year, but he rejected all the ones I showed him online because they did not meet specific "reverse-weave by Champion" criteria. Oh, I wish I was kidding. What is with the highly picky sweatshirt preferences? Or maybe the reverse-weave business is just a cover. *COUGH*securityblanket*COUGH*

Have I ever told you about how random Minnesota people think his name is William? By extension I get to be Mary. Makes me feel really founding father-ish slash lame in the sense that people think I would marry someone who wears a sweatshirt with our names on it.

Item 2 and 5/8ths: Cat Piles

In 1986 I thought that cat piles were awesome and would try to forcibly create them with our cats. Now it's 25 years later and cat piles scare me a little. Too much cat. Meow.

Item 3.14159265: Love in a Time of Sleeplessness
I sent Husband this pretty picture when I was up rocking Biggie after his first waking last night. I thought expressing my emotions through an iPhone self portrait would soothe my savage breast.

I know what you are thinking. And you would be right. I do have really pretty irises.

Husband sent me this back.

As I look at it again now I'm reminded that I wanted to see if his nostrils really are that different or if it was a magical trick of the iPhone camera. I have been with this man for 7 years and I've never given his nostrils a good look. That will all change tonight. Things really are just as exciting as when we first met...

10 Short Naps in a Row Does Not a Night of Restful Sleep Make

Oliver's sleep has gone from fine (up 2-3 times a night) to eh (3-5 times a night) to bad (5-7 times a night) to HOLY HELL I AM GOING TO DIE (9-10 times a night) over the past month. I got so little sleep last night that I feel crazy stupid and every little thing sends me through the roof with irritation. I could hear Husband clipping his nails upstairs this morning. HOW DARE HE!? I am physically weak (?) and mentally taxed and just overwhelmed. And then all that leads to me sort of hating myself for not being able to function. Yeah. I have a lot of happy moments everyday, but there are a lot of not-so-happy moments, too. Like yesterday, when I was dragging myself through grocery shopping and I dropped the stupid can of organic beans on my foot because I can't function enough to hold a can and I pretty much just wanted to cry. A big bean cry.

This happened with Bella, too, at pretty much this same time. Is it me? Am I doing something so incredibly wrong that I create my own misery? Or could it be the fact that Biggie grows super fast - almost a pound a week (now almost 20 lbs)? Or that he is busting through milestones - most notably the rolling? Or is it that he is getting his first two teeth?

The teeth thing seems the most suspect.  He's wanting to gnaw on everything and I can see the two little spots where they will come in, but I'm not a rookie and I know that those first teeth can take months to come in. Months of this kind of sleep? I really will die.

For the record, I'm not feeding him with every waking and we have tried several positions & places for him to sleep - co-sleeper, in bed with me, laying on our chests, and in the swing. Last night he wanted none of it except constant nursing, which hasn't really been his M.O. up to this point. He was previously only nursing when hungry and then done.

What's the latest in teething treatments? All I remember from Bella's tinier days was that Hylands teething tablets turned out to be all sorts of bad for some reason and that Infant Tylenol was recalled a frightening number of times. Which leaves...? I'm not even convinced that I want to give Oliver anything, but Husband is all, "MUST DO SOMETHING!"

And now I must be done. Oliver is up from his nap and Super Why is ending. Commence slogging through another day fueled by 4 cups of coffee. Arg. At least my non-rookie status has me remembering that this does end and it does get better and I will sleep again. Just probably not tonight. Or tomorrow. Or several more tomorrows after that. Weepcakes.

Here we have Biggie Smalls this morning, wearing, yes, pink polar bear pjs. Because I'm way behind on laundry. Bin of size 9-month baby girl clothes to the rescue!

When Two Weirds Collide: Our Love Story (Chapter 7)

Previous: Chapter 6

Chapter 7

When my alarm started beeping at me on Friday morning, my first thought was email. I sprinted from my bed and ran to the living room and checked it.

Nope. No new email from Raj. I sat for a moment, feeling disappointed. With the wind taken out of my sails, I became acutely aware of the earliness of the hour. As much as my bed was luring me back for another couple hours of sleep, I knew I needed to get out the door ASAP to beat morning traffic on my way back to Fargo.

Fighting inertia, I forced myself off the couch and just got ready enough for a car ride by putting in my contacts and giving my teeth a quick brush. Then I loaded Team Gray into their cat carriers. When it came to Toonses I simply had to hold it out and he jumped in there (he loved the car and took his namesake very seriously) but big, fat Stevie took some clever maneuvering. With a final shove on Stevie's backside, they were in and secure. Once everything was brought down to my car, I got in myself and cracked open my first Diet Mountain Dew of the day. The early morning soda was a vice I had picked up in college, and frankly, I loved it and had no intention of giving it up in spite of my mom's look of horror and shock each time she saw me do it. I made my way through the still and quiet streets of Uptown and got onto I-94, heading west. Stevie was bleating like a goat but soon he would go to sleep and the only sound would be my Garden State CD.

After I got outside the first tier of suburbs, traffic was practically non-existent and I settled in for the easy drive. Once I passed St. Cloud, the scenery offered it's usual array of small towns and farmland and my nose was accosted at regular intervals by the smell of manure. As boring and mundane as this impossibly flat stretch of highway could be, I liked the forced thinking space. Today I was especially appreciative for it. I could sit alone with my thoughts and indulgently come up with every permutation of what might happen next between Raj and me.

A few hours later I turned onto the small stretch of gravel road that joined the 24 houses of my tiny town called North River. It was just a few miles north of Fargo and located, not surprisingly, along the Red River. As much as I had no desire to return to Fargo as an adult, I liked my childhood town. It was safe and comfortable and, quite simply, home. I was glad I had come. I needed this respite from being an independent adult, from being the grown-up that I was supposed to be now.

My mom came out to greet me with a hug and we chatted as she helped me lug things in from the car. After raiding the well stocked fridge, I decided to make a sandwich to have with the mandatory chips & Cass-Clay french onion dip that I couldn't find in Minneapolis. We sat together and ate a quick lunch and then my mom went to her home office to get some things done while I set up my study area at the dining room table. I booted up my computer and had every intention to get to work right away.

But first, I would check my email. Really quick. Just to see. Then I would hold off for four, no three, no two hours. Yes. That was a reasonable goal.

I had one new message.

I shouted to my mom, who was three rooms away, in that obnoxious way that only a child would do to her parent. "Mom! He wrote me!" I had kept her in the loop, conveniently leaving out any bit about inappropriate Paris Hilton references.

I happily clicked on the email and began to read.

To: Laura Guiseppe
From: Raj Rijwani
Subject: Weirdo
Date: Fri, 08 Oct 2004 9:55

You're weird. That's a big compliment in my book.

Actually, I have two tickets to see a performance that reviews Fosse's work as well as to Chicago. The Fosse show is on Sunday the 17th of October at the Ordway and Chicago isn't until December 19th. Do you want to come to one of those shows? I don't normally find people who are into dance. I love the stuff.

We can talk about me doing a dance for you then. I have a centrifugal dance that I could show you. It's hilarious. I'll check out the Little Prince.

Have a good weekend.

Raj

I sat there staring at the words, his words, feeling dazed. There was just so much in that email that was exactly right. The amazing thing was that Raj was saying things that I would say. You're weird. That's a big compliment in my book. I had always prided myself on my weirdness, yet all of my exes had seemed annoyed by it at times. Or at least, they preferred I not be so obviously kooky.

I sat back in my chair, feeling overwhelmed by him asking me out and by the utter perfection of him calling me weird as a compliment. Was it possible that we were the same brand of weird? I hadn't expected that.

"Mom! He asked me out!" I shouted again. She came out of her office to see what I was shouting about since she couldn't hear me from so far away. I looked up at her, "He asked me out! To a show. Next Sunday! EEEEEEEEEEEEE!" My mom smiled. She had been nothing but supportive about this Raj crush. In fact, she was far more enthusiastic about me getting involved with someone than she had ever been in the past. I was pretty sure this had little to do with Raj and a lot to do with it not being my ex but it still felt so nice to be able to be open with her.

"Wait," she said, "Aren't you going to North Carolina next weekend?"

Oh no. I had been so caught up in him actually asking me on a date that I had totally forgotten about my trip. I had bought a ticket to go to Raleigh to visit my sister and her boyfriend as a reward for completing the dietetic exam. I was so excited for that trip but now I cursed the bad timing. There would be no date next weekend and no creepy Fosse show with Raj. Bummer.

"Well, you'll find another time. There's a lot to do in the Twin Cities," my mom reminded me before excusing herself again to get some work done.

I wanted to give myself all the time in the world to respond to Raj's email and to daydream and be giddy, but I really did have to buckle down and study. Grudgingly, I dug out my flashcards and began to review. Soon I was drowning in a sea of metabolic alkalosis, the grading of beef, and the practice of FIFO when storing foods in a refrigerator. I wondered if I would have chosen this same career route had I known this was where it would take me: studying a cow's ass in order to memorize which steak comes from where.

Hours later, I finally gave myself the chance to reply to Raj.

To: Raj Rijwani
From: Laura Guiseppe
Subject: You're weird, too.
Date: Fri, Oct 08, 2004 4:00 PM

I am definitely a big weirdo. It's part of my charm.

That is awesome that you have tickets to those shows - are you a season ticket holder? I was sad though, when I saw you are going to Fosse on Oct 17th - I'll be in Raleigh, NC visiting my sister. I swear I'm not normally such a jet setter. Not that being in Fargo this weekend should in any way be considered jet-setting. But you for sure have to keep me in mind for Chicago. I have been wanting to go to a musical/play/cultural event for a while, but I just haven't gotten around to it.

Have you done dance in the past? Or musical theater? Or perhaps you are a metrosexual and thus highly cultured? I'm just curious, because as I'm sure you are aware - guys aren't normally into dance. But its very cool that you are.

Hope the work lunch thing was fun today. Team Gray (my two gay gray cats - Toonses & Stevie) and I arrived in Fargo this AM and plan on getting lots of studying done. Woo-hoo! Anyway, hopefully there will be a chance for me to hang out with you and the other work people soon...unless I have to suddenly travel to Europe or Asia or Africa or something like that. Because I'm extremely busy and important. ;)

See you later,
Laura

PS - While I don't personally believe in emoticons, I am wont to use them and for that I apologize.

PPS - Don't have high expectations for The Little Prince. From what I remember watching it in 12th grade french class, it's creepy and bizarre...and I think it's meant for children. But maybe then it will be right up you alley- you know, with your PB&J addiction and stuff.

After sending the email, I found myself wishing I had sent it earlier in the day - that way Raj would have still been at work when he got it and therefore more likely to reply. I was beginning to rely on these emails in a way that was a little scary. But now it was Friday night and he probably had plans. An unpleasant thought struck me: what if he met another girl this weekend? And then it would be all awkward come December because who would he take to the Chicago show? I felt frustrated that I couldn't say yes to the date on October 17. I needed to find another substitute date that we could go on. I decided to look at City Pages online to see what was going on around Minneapolis.

After coming up with a few ideas - there was a ballet at Northrup and some indie films playing at the Lagoon theater -it occurred to me that I could google Raj. I had never been in the position to google a future date before. How modern and "Sex in the City" of me. I typed in Raj Rijwani and hit return. There was a famous Raj Rijwani Bollywood actor. I squinted at the picture, just in case Raj was secretly famous, but it didn't appear to be my Raj. (My Raj!) I narrowed the search by adding Minnesota. And Raj turned out to be very, very Google-able.

His real age was revealed from several hits of previous 5Ks he had run: Raj was 30. So definitely old. And a runner. That was kind of hot. I scrolled down the page. His named was listed as an author on a few scientific articles, not too surprising. And a short film? What was that? It showed a picture that was clearly Raj, although he looked a bit different. So he was in videos on the internet, after all! I tried to click on the short film, but it was a dead link. It was all highly intriguing.

Then I realized I was going to have to pretend not to know certain things when we finally had our date. That could prove tricky. Raj might not find a pre-date google as socially acceptable as I did. Or was it possible that he would google me? I checked my name, but nothing interesting came up. And then, I quickly typed in my ex's name, just to see, but nothing surprising came up there, either. I was annoyed at myself for even doing that. Let it go, I reminded myself for the umpteenth time.

I decided I had done enough for one day and I also willed myself not to check my email for a few hours. I dumped my study materials on the floor by the table and went into the kitchen to help my mom make tacos for dinner. We ate when my dad got home from work, just as we had done thousands of times in the past, but it felt odd not to have my siblings in chairs on either side of me. I helped to clear the table and even washed a few dishes, something I wouldn't have willingly done in my youth. Maybe I was growing up after all. And then I finally gave in and let myself check my email.

I was rewarded - he had written. Maybe I had a leg up on that phantom girl he was going to meet tonight after all. My boring weekend in Fargo - disconnected from Raj - was turning out to be not so boring or disconnected after all.

To: Laura Guiseppe
From: Raj Rijwani
Subject: Thanks
Date: Fri, Oct 08, 2004 6:52 PM

Weird is charming.

I'm not a season ticket holder but I do have some sort of preferred status; some marketing thing for buying tickets for multiple shows.

Let's just plan on you going to Chicago then and if something comes up for you in the meantime then you can let me know, otherwise the ticket is as good as yours.

If you're into "musical/play/cultural" events then I'll let you know when I'm going to one because I go out for a lot of them. I make films and am into all kinds of "artsy" type stuff so I'm always into experiencing new things. I have done dance like ballroom, got into swing, latin, etc. but never anything really formal. You can just say that whatever feels good to me I do no matter what the "general" opinion of that activity is. As for guys not normally being into dance I think that guys are extremely careful about what they say they like because they don't want anyone to think they're gay but I don't care if someone thinks that because I'm a pretty secure guy. I don't even know what emoticons are so use them as often as you like. Have a good weekend.

Raj

P.S. You seem to like P.S.'s

So I had an official date! In...December. Two months away. I had to laugh. At least Raj seemed on the same page as I was with giving each other an out - who knows where we would be in two months? Mind boggling to think that far ahead. So he was into random film and art things? Interesting. He wasn't turning out to be what I had expected at all.

*               *               *               *               *          

    

I let myself sleep in the next morning and that sense of giddiness over Raj's emails and his invitation for a date - the two-months-away date - remained strong. I grabbed a cup of coffee- how nice to have someone else make it! - and typed a response to Raj.

To: Raj Rijwani
From: Laura Guiseppe
Subject: A Education in Emoticons
Date: Sat, Oct 09, 2004 10:17 AM

Here are emoticons (icons of emotion...or something gross like that):
:)    ;)    :(    :-/   etc.

You can also get creative and do body parts:
(.)(.)=boobs

I could do other parts, but that would be R-rated. This keeps it PG-ish.

I apologized for using them cause men usually find them in the category of irritating things women do that includes wearing capri pants, wanting to watch bad romantic comedies with Freddy Prinze Jr, and talking about cats. And of course I do these things for I am woman. Roar.

I am super excited for Chicago. Have you done any museum-ing lately? That's another thing I have been meaning to do. I should just make a nice list of the things I want to do. I like lists. Do you go to some of the more artsy/documentary movies in Uptown? I saw Garden State a few weeks ago and really liked it (of course... I do have a crush on Zach Braff so that might have had something to do with it). Motorcycle Diaries is also playing right now-have you seen it?

Nutrition flashcards are so very, very lame.

Ok, talk later.

LG

PS- Damn straight I like PSs.

Surely after emailing him e-boobs, he would jump on one of those other suggestions I offered him for a date? I felt a little twitchy about being so obvious, but why not be a little obvious? I wanted to go on  date with him and I was going to make it happen.

Oh my God. I was going to go on a date with him. It was going to happen. This was all going so fast. And so slow.

I studied the rest of Saturday, but felt disappointed when each email check left me without a new message from Raj. I went to bed on Saturday night questioning the last email I had sent, wondering what Raj was doing and wondering why he didn't email me back. Had the e-boobs been too much?

Sunday morning once again left me email-less, unless I wanted to count the email from h0tC0cK for XXXViagraXXX.  Raj had probably met someone and my two-months-in-the-future date wasn't going to happen.  He was setting up two-months-in-the-future dates with her.

Or not. Deep breaths.

By Sunday afternoon I was feeling good about having studied enough and I decided that a movie night sounded good. I volunteered to run out to Blockbuster and also Hornbachers, the beloved grocery store chain in Fargo. We had run out of french onion dip and I was experiencing withdrawal.

As I drove the short distance into town, I was struck with the horrifying thought that I could run into my ex. While we didn't meet until the fall of freshman year, we were both originally from Fargo and his parents had moved up to the north side of town a few years ago. Logically, I knew the chances of randomly running into him in Fargo were extremely slim - especially when you considered we lived less than a mile apart in Minneapolis - but I did not want any surprises. I desperately wanted to be in the position of seeing him first and getting the option to flee when that inevitable moment came where we were in the same place at the same time. Besides, even if my ex was in Minneapolis, his parents were still very much in Fargo and I also wanted to avoid any awkward conversations with them. Why must life be so endlessly complex?

Thankfully, the trip was non-eventful beyond seeing a couple of high school classmates and I procured my dip and also rented the new movie "Saved!" with Mandy Moore. Driving home I was struck by a sense of deja vu, having driven this stretch of highway in the dark so often in high school. I arrived home, parked in the driveway and on the short walk to the front door I was suddenly aware of how quiet and still it was. The only sound that broke the stillness was the mild whooshing of the wind blowing through the pine trees that bordered our large front yard. I automatically looked up at the sky, and there it was: a wide open expanse of starlit sky. As much as I might make fun of North Dakota, it had a stunning night sky. How many times had I looked up on both humid summer nights and frigid winter ones at that sky? I realized how much I missed seeing it on a regular basis. The night sky was never so brilliant in Minneapolis.

After watching "Saved!" with my mom, I decided to head to bed early. I would be heading back to Minneapolis the next day and still needed to do a bit more cramming. I checked my email one last time for the day: nothing. I told myself that feeling so sad over not getting an email from a man with whom you have a two-months-from-now date was ridiculous, but there it was: major disappointment. Maybe he really had found another girl that weekend. I felt sick at that thought.

As I lay in bed reading that night I found myself reading the same paragraph in my book over and over. I felt frustrated and set the book aside. For the first time that weekend I really looked around at the weird transitional room I was in. It had been my younger brother's room growing up but I had switched with him once I left for school since I had had the much larger bedroom. This odd little space had only been "my" bedroom the summer after freshman year. Thus the laminated theater posters from junior high and high school were never hung on the walls, but other youthful paraphernalia had made its way over. Pink satin point shoes hung from the ceiling and framed prom pictures featuring my high school guy, a chlorine-scented swimmer boy with overly-gelled hair, were on the dresser and on the shelf behind my bed. As far as first boyfriends could go, he had been one of the best. I remained in touch with him and he often crashed at my place when he stopped by the Cities, usually giving me about three hours notice. It drove me nuts, but he was one of my oldest friends and since I had no romantic interest in him, I didn't really care.

I picked up one of the framed prom pictures of us that was displayed on the shelf behind my bed and studied the younger version of me. I had thought myself so pudgy back them, but my bony shoulders clearly indicated otherwise. I looked at my updo with the two carefully curled tendrils framing either side of my face and remembered how my boyfriend had thrown a fit when he realized he had forgotten his Lactaid at home and he had wanted fettuccine alfredo at the fancy country club restaurant. I smiled, thinking about how annoyed I had been at him that night. I still teased him about how he had been such a dud for my Senior prom. Then I remembered something else. I had framed that prom picture two years AFTER we had gone to prom. It had been done in yet another ridiculous attempt to make my college ex jealous.

The first time I saw my college boyfriend's childhood bedroom had been spring break of Freshman year. I had been unpleasantly startled to see it was an ode to girlfriends past. Various memorabilia from his Junior year girlfriend was tacked on one wall and then prom pictures and even a picture of him kissing his Senior year girlfriend hung above the head of the bed. The fact that he had never tacked up a picture of the two of us in his dorm room pushed my insecurity to the brink, especially because I was convinced he still had feelings for both of those other girls. On that chilly spring night I had returned to my own childhood home and had framed up a few prom pictures at 1 AM. Here I was, nearly 6 years later, and I couldn't even recall if my college ex had ever seen the prom pictures that I had so carefully displayed. I didn't think he had.

I snorted in laughter at how ridiculous I had been. How futile it had all been. But the laughter died away when an unexpected rush of tears flooded my vision. I pressed my hands to my eyes, trying to ward off the sobs that threatened to overtake me. It really had all been so ridiculous and futile.

As much as I tried to shelve things that had to do with my ex, it wasn't going away. Coming to Fargo had only triggered more unpleasant memories, especially tonight as I ran errands. Just below the conscious level, there was a horrible realization that I had gotten so very lost from myself in the past several years. So pathetic. Constantly trying to one-up and plant seeds of jealousy in him to assuage the jealousy that constantly roared up in me, whether we were together or apart. Even those times I had dated other guys when we had been on a break, it had been yet another attempt to get his attention. I felt guilty, acknowledging that those other guys had really only been pawns in the elaborate game of my relationship with my ex.

Was that what I was doing with Raj? Finding another guy to fill in the gap? Was I truly unable to be on my own and had become a person who bounced from relationship to relationship in order to avoid ever having to face the ugliness that existed below the surface?

I felt sad to think that Raj might just end up being another fling and nothing more than that. But hadn't those other mini-relationship started out fun and exciting, only to lose their luster a few weeks in? Was that what was going to happen with Raj? Would his seemingly parallel weirdness become a grating annoyance in a matter of days?

I didn't think so. But I didn't know. There was just so much that I didn't know or understand.

Life seemed to be changing so uncomfortably fast. I felt like I couldn't keep up with it, but it wasn't like I had a choice. It was so clear to me now how deeply I had relied on my ex as a life raft. Our relationship had been terrible and we always brought out the worst in each other but it had been my terrible relationship. As much as I had acted shocked each time we split up - and those break-ups had usually been my doing over his bad behavior - it had all been really quite predictable. I had known what to expect. It wasn't like this big scary open-ended life that I was now living.

I set the prom picture back down on the shelf, laying it flat on the shelf this time instead of displaying it and turned out the light. I lay there, trying to sleep, but the questions wouldn't go away.

What was I doing? In every aspect of my life, what was I doing?

To be continued... 

Next: Chapter 8

More Indoor Activities for Toddlers

It's getting to be that time of year - six months of winter is coming! Yay! (Nooooooooo. Make it stop.)

In my original post featuring indoor activities for young toddlers, many of you readers chimed in with AWESOME ideas and links in the comments. So awesome that someday I'll write it all up and make it a separate page to click on in situations of winter despair. I could pretend like I'll do that soon, but that would be totally pants on fire.

Here are a few things we've done lately on chillier days (or on baby-napping-and-it's-too-complex-to-leave-the-house days).

Magazine Collages
Oh, my do I heart collaging with a fervor unmatched for any other art project. Always have, always will. I even brought magazine collages to a place where magazine collages were never meant to go: an Honors Shakespeare class in college. For reals. PROOF!

(Somehow got an A+ in that class? What?)

So let's be real clear when I share these next few collage projects with you - it was all about me wanting to collage and I was maybe a little sad that Bella didn't show the project the reverence it deserved. She was half-interested and needed a lot of guidance. I'll have to keep trying. My children WILL love to collage. It must be so.

Supplies - Old magazines & catalogs, glue sticks or tape, markers, large sheets of paper, and we also include those foam stickers that meet a child's band-aid fix with all the peeling off of sticker backings.

Seasonal Collage
Bella is now aware of the changing seasons and loves talking about leaves falling and winter coming, etc. I randomly signed up for a two year subscription to Midwest Monthly (It was cheap? Or something? You can make fun of me, I deserve it.) and I never do anything with the magazine, but I do admire the pictures. And that was enough to inspire all this collaging. We started with a fall collage and I plan to do another with winter pictures and then spring. I would think you could find good seasonal stuff in many magazines, including freebie catalogs like Pottery Barn.

Tree Collage - I cut out leaves using fall-colored pictures and had Bella glue them to a tree. Then she stuck sea-themed foam stickers to it, which was awesome.

House Collage -  Fill the rooms of the house with the appropriate stuff. Totally lets me peruse the Crate & Barrel catalog.

Rice & Beans Play Bin
I originally intended for this to be a construction site-type activity for Bella. I filled a large plastic storage bin with dried rice & beans. I thought Bella would have fun with her dump truck scooping & digging (she's very interested in construction), but then she decided it was more fun to pretend to cook. I added the plastic bowls & measuring utensils that we don't use anymore and she goes to town and makes us cakes. I spread an old tablecloth underneath each time and then carefully fold it up and shake the stray bits back into the large bin when we are done.

Homemade Music Shakers
We did this at music class, but it can be easily replicated at home. Fill disposable coffee cups (available at Target) with dried rice or beans or a mix, tape on the lid securely and decorate. Turn on the Pandora toddler station (love) and shake your booties.

Colored Ice Cubes
Got this idea on Pinterest. I froze colored cubes and then Bella played with them in the tub. Just make sure to dole them out slowly to extend playing time. The first time I dumped all 12 in at once and the fun was over in a few minutes. Oops.

Anyone else want to chime in with something fun they did lately? I plan to use Pinterest to find lots more ideas this winter.

But winter isn't really right around the corner, right?  LALALALALALALALA!

When Two Weirds Collide: Our Love Story (Chapter 6)

Previous: Chapter 5

Chapter 6

I was left with a feeling of anticipation after my chance to talk to Raj over lunch was cut short. What was going to happen next? I spent the remainder of the day on Wednesday and all day Thursday hoping - expecting, really - to run into him again. But to my supreme disappointment, our paths never crossed. I tried to think of a reason I could email him, but nothing sprung to mind. What could I possibly say?

Dear Raj,

Feel free to ask me on another group lunch date! Or a real date, while you are at it. Internet porn is funny!

Yours most cordially, Laura

Yeah, that wasn't going to work. Every potential topic that I thought of seemed like too much of a stretch and smacked of desperation. Bah. I was going to have to wait until the following Tuesday, at the very earliest, to see him again since I was spending the long weekend in Fargo. I almost wished that we didn't get Columbus Day off on Monday, because four days seemed like an interminable length of time to go without the excitement that surrounded all things Raj. It been so much easier to have crushes in high school. You were guaranteed a sighting at least five days a week.

The pile of flashcards on my coffee table that Thursday evening brought me back to reality - four long days could be a good thing when you had a lot of studying to do. The exam that would make me a full-fledged dietitian was scheduled for Tuesday morning.

I gathered the flashcards up along with my other dietetic study materials and packed them into a messenger bag to take home - I would give myself the night off from studying. I finished packing up the rest of my weekend bag and then flopped on the couch. I was feeling so restless. Between the stress of the upcoming exam and disappointment over things coming to a standstill with Raj, I felt out of sorts and unable to relax. Maybe I should spend the evening studying after all.

I turned on the TV and idly flipped through the channels, but after attempting to watch that new Joey show for a few minutes, I shut the TV off. I had always been more of a Chandler girl, anyway. Maybe I would watch ER later. Maybe not.

I went into my bedroom with the slightly obnoxious lavender walls - I wondered if my landlord would ever let another tenant choose their paint colors again? - and sprawled on the bed with Team Gray. I stared at the ceiling for a few minutes and debated just going to bed, even though it was only 8 pm. I turned to my side and caught sight of the copy of "He's Just Not That Into You" that was on the floor. I had thrown it off the bed in disgust a few weeks before. Purchased at Barnes and Noble in something of a desperate move, I'd hoped that it would give me some insight into my previous relationship and possibly answer that persistent question of "Why?"

I had tried to keep an open mind as I skimmed through it that day, but when I had got to the chapter "He's Just Not That Into You...If He Cheats on You," I had had enough. The pithy, overly smug book had triggered more feelings of inadequacy on my part and not the empowerment they were intending. The message that if he's into you, he'll stick around was hardly a comforting thought when you are trying understand just why someone was not into you enough to stick around. Ergo the book went flying through the air and landed on the floor, never to be touched again...at least for three weeks.

I got out of bed, picked up the book and brought it to the living room where I stuck it on the bookshelf. I didn't want to keep seeing it on my bedroom floor and I didn't want to think about what it represented. Shelve the book and shelve the issue.

If only it were that simple.

The restlessness remained, perhaps more so now than before since I was actively trying not to think about my ex. I slowly looked around, trying to figure out what to do - stay in? go out? - when my eyes landed on my computer. My email. I would check my email. It was always exquisite torture to see if maybe, just maybe, Raj had written me an email. I knew the chances were around zero, but why not check? I didn't have anything else to do. I turned my laptop on, helped myself to my neighbor's internet connection per usual and...

I couldn't believe it. Raj had emailed me.

To: Laura Guiseppe
From: Raj Rijwani
Subject: Good luck!
Date: Thu, 07 Oct 2004 7:58 PM

Hey, I wanted to say good luck on your test. I know you're studying for it this weekend but I can't remember when you're taking it. Tuesday?

Anyway, I also wanted to ask if you are familiar with Bob Fosse? He directed a film with Liza Minelli called Cabaret and choreographed a lot of Broadway hits like Chicago, etc.? Have you seen any of his work?

Raj

My heart was thumping in my chest. He had emailed me, which meant he had been thinking about me. Raj was thinking about me. Thinking about me enough to email me at - I checked the time stamp - 8 pm. He had emailed me from home. I felt giddy. What if he was thinking about me as much as I was thinking about him? Was it possible? That he could be daydreaming about me at odd times of the day and hoping to catch sight of me in the halls? The thought left me reeling.

I read the email quickly again. The Bob Fosse thing was totally out of left field. Was Raj a dancer or something? Hm. That was...random. But interesting. And kind of funny. I knew he played kickball after hearing him mention it in the break room, so I had thought of him as more the athletic type. But maybe he was actually more of a dancer guy? Or a theater guy? Or just a fan? Assuming he wasn't simply harboring a fetish for Fosse, this was seemed to be a pre-date line of questioning. Maybe. Possibly. Was there a Fosse show going on in the Twin Cities? That might explain things.

I pulled up Google in a new window to see. YES! There was a three-show Fosse review going on at the Ordway Theater. He was going to ask me out! Possibly. Hopefully. Maybe?

Or maybe this was just a friendly overture? But...it had to be more than that, right? This seemed a little too random for it to be a casual question between friends. Which meant...

Holy shit. I could end up going on an actual date with the guy I had a crush on. Like an alone-and-just-the-two-of-us kind of date that would make me want to vomit with nerves.

But that was assuming that he was going to ask me out. Maybe he was. It seemed like it. Or...?

My heart thumped even more.

Instead of playing a game and waiting to email him back tomorrow or the next day, I decided to write him right then. I bit my lip and stared without really seeing into the distance, thinking about what to say. He had left it so open and vague - what would be the best response? Then my focus cleared and landed on the book I had just been reading. Screw it. I didn't need to write the perfect thing. I was going to be myself and if he was into me ,then he would be into me. The book was ridiculous, but it did have a point: Be yourself and if he's into you, he'll make sure you know it. For me, being myself meant being a weirdo. He could take it or leave it. And besides, if he did have a Fosse fetish after all, then I had free reign to be as weird as I wanted to be.

To: Raj Rijwani
From: Laura Guiseppe
Subject: Thanks
Date: Thu, 07 Oct 2004 21:05 PM

Are you asking about Bob Fosse because you'd like to do a dance for me?

Ha ha, just kidding. Yes, I am pretty familiar with him. I did ballet in Junior High and High School and took tap and jazz classes in college. I'm actually taking a community ed tap class right now - the mix of people in it is hilarious. Picture me and an old women, a young boy, and a few others tapping to some country song. I kept wanting to laugh at the situation. It's only a six week course so it should be fun - and a good source of stories.

Have you seen the Little Prince movie where he does a creepy snake dance? That is the dance I would like you to do for me, please.

I don't want to study for my test. Maybe I should become a marine biologist instead of a dietitian. Or maybe I should be a back-up dancer for Prince. Really, the options are endless.

Alright, ER is on. I'll talk to you later!

Laura

I read it over quickly and decided to go for it. I took a breath and clicked to send it. I hoped it would prompt him to reply immediately and ask me specifically-and-without-a-doubt on a date. And hopefully that would happen in the next, oh, five minutes. I couldn't imagine waiting longer than that.

I turned on ER and tried to watch, but the obsessive checking of my email kept me from following the plot. I stayed up until 11 pm, through the news and the start of Dave Letterman, but there was no new email. I needed to get to bed since I was going to be up early the next day to make the four hour trek home.

I grudgingly got myself ready for bed, checking one last time before giving up for the night. As impatient as I was for his next email, I had to admit there was something fun about the delayed gratification.

I climbed into bed and got comfortable and Team Gray formed their usual lumps on the bed beside me. I knew I needed to get some rest, but all I could think was about Raj - had he seen my email yet? - and the possibilities for what might happen next.

A date! Maybe... Probably... Possibly...

To be continued...

Next: Chapter 7

Life Lately

• Yesterday I took Bella with me to the co-op while Husband stayed back with a napping Oliver. We got our stuff and I loaded her back into the car and then drove off with our bag of groceries (including all the organic/local meat for the month) on the ground in the parking lot. Took me about a mile to realize it. Luckily, a peaceable and non-thefty co-op patron brought it back into the store and I was able to get it. 

• Sadly, these kinds of shenanigans not all that uncommon lately. Oliver has been waking anywhere from 4-10 times a night, and it's usually something like 6-7. I haven't slept more than two hours in a row since the day-in-the-life that I blogged about a couple weeks ago. And I only get a nap in once a week or so. WOW. Sleep deprived for reals.

• I think Oliver's terrible night sleep is related to the fact that he has started rolling over (Go baby, go!) That took me by surprise since B didn't do that until she was 7 months old (the chub interfered, I think). He is rolling over so often that we had to drop the swaddle. I repeat: we had to DROP THE SWADDLE. Woe. Biggie Smalls still has a pretty big startle reflex so...yeah. Lots of wake-ups.

• Daytime has also been rough because my zany, sweet Bella turned into Bizarro Bella overnight. Bizarro Bella (likely a by-product of some aggressive two year molars) is NO FUN AT ALL. Holy balls, friends. Round the clock whining, crying, yelling, tantrums, general naughtiness and begging to take a nap and then not napping. The not napping thing really took things to the next level of difficulty. She needed that sleep so badly and I needed that break from her antics, but it just wasn't happening. I have never felt the level of frustration with her that I have in the past couple weeks and of course, parenting on very little sleep doesn't help. I hated that she was hurting and I couldn't help much beyond a little Tylenol here and there plus popsicles & frozen bananas but I also wanted to flee to Mexico. The last 3 days have seemed normal again but I live in fear of Bizarro returning. Bizarro is a little scary and very, very exhausting.

• This weekend I was a bridesmaid for one of my BFFs, Lindsey.
  
  
  I have known Lindsey since we were four and I can remember thinking she was so pretty and cool even way back then. My first memory of her is her eating lunch with some other little girls at nursery school. I wanted to be her friend cause she was super neat-o and had dark hair and a pretty dress on. We went to different elementary schools but befriended each other in 7th grade when her friend had a locker next to mine. From there we did summer camps and theater and lots of other things together. We were together so much that we would respond to each other's name without much thought in high school. And we also went to the same college. We have lived within a few miles of each other for over 20 years!!! Anyway, she was such a beautiful bride and I got all choked up seeing her come down the aisle. It was such a weird feeling to simultaneously remember her as a little girl and see her in this pivotal moment as an adult. Pretty sure I will be a heap of emotion when Bella gets married. And I can't even fathom what Husband will be like beyond completely inconsolable.

• Fun fact! Husband officiated their wedding. It will be his last and he came out of retirement just for Lindsey & Seth. He has now married 10 couples. 

• I drank 3 small glasses of wine/champagne at the very fun wedding reception (it was over the course of many hours and with lots of food and other NA beverages) and yet I was horribly hungover the next day. Le sigh. I was always prone to nasty hangovers, but it appears that one drink is truly my limit now. Does this mean my partying lifestyle must come to an end? But I'm such a staple at the downtown clubs!

• Let's talk about pumping in bathrooms, since I did that during the wedding. WOW, my respect for moms that have to pump at work is at an all-time high, especially those with inadequate spaces for pumping. If Bella had been there with me she would have announced in a loud voice, "I smell something!" Indeed.

• I think there were other things I was going to bullet point? Maybe? Like how I'm the youngest parent by 10 years or something at Bella's music class and it makes me feel like a teen mom. Or how our fridge & freezer broke the morning of the wedding just to keep life spicy (SAVE THE BREASTMILK!) Or the joy I feel at being out of vegetable jail now that our CSA is over. There. I was going to tell you those things.

• And one more. I'm hoping to get Chapter 6 of the lurve story knocked out in the next day or so. Can't wait to introduce the love triangle that happened between Raj, myself, and this doctor at the hospital where we worked named Derek. He was so dreamy and looked just like the guy who rode a riding lawnmower in that 80s movie. But then this other doctor named Meredith kept messing things up between me and Derek. I mean, wait... (Chapter 6, the version that really happened, coming soon!)

These are the Days of our Lives

Just like sands through the hourglass, people. Thanks to all for playing along - it was a record number of participants. I do believe we have the North, South, East and West of the US represented, including Alaska and those lovely middle states that no one outside of the Midwest can remember. So let's all crown thy good with brotherhood, from sea to shining sea! I mean, enjoy frittering away your time on the internet. WHEE!

 A Graceful Disaster

Hilde Home

The Blessed Mom

The Antics of the Three 22nds..and their sister!

Live Inside My Bubble

bejogram

Irish Twins Momma's Babybook

Adventures in Tullyland

Dr. Frankenbaby's Monsters

Super Telegas

Brady Balouga

Frugal Vegan Mom

Andrew and Cara

it's all happening!

The Fun Has Just Begun

Blessed Life

My Brain, the Baby & Life

When Two Weirds Collide: Our Love Story (Chapter 5)

Previous: Chapter 4

Chapter 5

I kept re-reading that ridiculous email I had just sent Raj. Had I really referenced Paris Hilton to a grown man? He was going to think I was a total teenybopper, obsessed with celebrity gossip. OK, so maybe I did have a subscription to US Weekly, but still. No need to reveal that piece of information so soon in the game. I re-read the email again and cringed once more. No matter how you sliced it, I had referenced internet porn. Internet porn. I groaned again.

I decided to try to shake off my embarrassment by getting away from the scene of the crime. I grabbed my bag from the bottom desk drawer and took off my lab coat, hanging it on the hook on my way out. I glanced around the halls for Raj as I left and felt very relieved not to see him. Oh God, he was probably reading my email right then. Must flee now.

As I drove home I sternly told myself not to check my email right away. Because if he hadn't written, I would feel even more embarrassed and if he had...hm. OK, maybe I would check my email.

I arrived home after an annoying commute (the stop-and-go traffic on the main highways always drove me nuts) and hurried inside. Team Gray twirled around my legs, begging for their dinner. They would have to wait a minute. I sat on the squishy yellow love seat - trying, as always, not to think of all the random people who had slept on it after a boozy night during its prime as the sole couch in a tiny apartment full of girls. I opened my temperamental lap top and using my neighbor's wireless connection, I got online and logged into my Hotmail.

And there it was. One new message from Raj Rijwani. He had written back. I couldn't believe he actually had replied so soon. I took a deep breath and clicked...

I let out a sigh of relief as I read his email, which included his own tasteless joke in response to mine. He got it. Thank God he didn't think I was a creep. Or maybe we were both creepy. Either way, phew!

And then there was another paragraph.

Have a good one. See you tomorrow. Hey, I think a bunch of us will be going out to lunch sometime this week. Want to go?

Raj

I felt giddy with excitement. Lunch! That's was practically a pre-date, right? Or wait. Maybe it was nothing more than a friendly invitation to a group thing - emphasis on the friend part? I stopped the involuntary squealing that I hadn't realized I was doing. Stevie headbutted me, reminding me of his hunger and I absentmindedly reached out to pet him and wondered what exactly Raj was thinking and what he meant by the invitation. Wouldn't it be kind of weird to invite a potential friend to lunch like this unless you were interested in them as more than friends? So it must mean something. On the other hand, he was old, like 30, and maybe that's how older working people did these things?

Of course I would go to the lunch, there was no question about that. My boss would not be enthusiastic about it but the chance to do something non-work related with Raj was worth the potential raised eyebrow look. I decided I would wait until the next day to email him back. I didn't want to look too eager, especially after the last email I sent. 

Stevie gave me a particularly aggressive headbutt and Toonses began to howl in desperation, so I got off the couch to feed them. After filling their bowls and storing the cat food on the highest shelf in the pantry - Toonses went to great lengths for food - I stood in my kitchen. The sun was beginning it's slow descent in the sky and the room had a glow.

It seemed like there was so much going on in my life right now. And yet, maybe there was nothing much going on at all. Maybe I was just a girl who was getting over a boy by making a big deal of a crush on someone new. Did it matter, really? Couldn't I be moony over this silly crush until I was feeling stronger on the dating and relationship front? I gazed out the window and saw a couple leaves lazily make their way to the sidewalk below. I decided to get outside for a quick walk around the lake, knowing my days for being able to do so were numbered. I figured I only had an hour or so before it was completely dark out.

There was something so seductive about fall. The best weather, but shorter and shorter days. It had always been my favorite season. Maybe this had been ingrained from the time I was a child and loved school. Or was it just school supplies that I loved? Well, whatever it was, I was going to enjoy the season and make the most of these last few nice days. And I would let myself enjoy this crush, silly distraction or not.

*         *         *         *         *

The next morning I sent my carefully crafted email to Raj, telling him that lunch sounded fun and asking him which day it would be. I made sure to sandwich it between two casually funny short paragraphs, I didn't want to appear too eager. Thinking it best, I also I left out any mention of internet porn. I was really hoping he would tell me it was going to be on Thursday because I wouldn't be at work on Friday - that was the day I would head to Fargo to spend the long weekend studying.

An hour and a half later, Raj replied. I marveled at the fact that he was such a quick replier. This email was short and direct: lunch was going to be on Friday and he would get me the details as soon as he found out more.

Shit. Friday. A small part of me was relieved - I wouldn't have to deal with my boss giving me the stink-eye for going off campus and I could also avoid the stress of a social event that involved Raj. I wanted to get to know him better, but it made me so nervous. But a bigger part was bummed. Maybe I shouldn't go to Fargo? It wasn't like I had to go there to study - I obviously could do it in Minneapolis. And that way I could go to the lunch and maybe Raj would ask me out for the weekend and...

No. I shook my head as I found myself making the same old mistake. NO. Hadn't I just spent the better part of the past six years making myself available to someone left and right, just in case? And that had worked out so well. So no. I needed to learn to respect myself and treat myself better. Starting now. If he was "into me", like that dumb book said, he would find a way to ask me to do something again. But what could I tell Raj that would easily open the door to that possibility? Surely there had to be some way to word that email to help make it clear that I wanted to spend time with him, without making it too obvious that I wanted to spend time with him. Hm. How does one say and not say the exact same thing at the same time?

I continued to debate what I would write in my next email to Raj as I went about my morning. I glanced at the clock: 11:40 AM. Just enough time to run lab supplies upstairs to the patient study area. I loaded up the metal cart, every inch of it labeled with our lab's room number - carts were such a coveted thing, and pushed it down the hall to the main elevator bank. As I waited for the predictably slow elevator, I continued to mentally edit that email. More joking? Just the facts about going out of town? Then I reminded myself that this lunch might really just be straight up LUNCH to him. So maybe I was being a total freak by obsessing over what to say in my reply email.

"Hey!" I was startled out of my daydreaming and even more startled to see Raj.

He was wearing jeans (against dress code!) and a t-shirt (double dress code violation!) and had his glasses on again. He gave me a big grin. "What are you up to?" he asked, nodding at the hundreds of blood collection tubes in racks on my cart.

"Oh, just heading upstairs to drop this off. What are you doing?" What was I wearing? Did I have coffee breath? I tried to calm down the nerves that had flared up, reminding myself that (1) I was wearing a cute outfit and (2) I had shoved three Altoids in my mouth five minutes ago when I was pretending they would help my lunchtime hunger.

"I was going to go downstairs and get some lunch." He leaned past me as he hit the down button. His forearms. Oh my. I had always had a weakness for nice forearms.

"Ooh, are you going to get a grilled cheese and tomato soup? That's my favorite."  I was struck by that now very familiar feeling of embarrassment. Why must I be such a tool? Grilled cheese and tomato soup? What was I - an 8 year-old?

But then something occurred to me, "Wait? No PBJ today?"

"Ha. No. KJ and Sarah shoved a GI Joe into my peanut butter to be funny." I tried not to snort with laughter. "Yeah, I know. Hilarious." He grinned at me. "Everyone is always trying to mess with my peanut butter. Anyway, I was going to get a sandwich from the sandwich counter."

"Ah. The sandwich counter. I'm not familiar. I tend to be drawn to the Mexican food counter." Seriously? Were these words coming from my mouth?

"Oh, you need to go to the sandwich counter. Maria will hook you up."

I felt distracted by his eyes. They were this intense brown color. I never knew I liked brown eyes so much.

"What? Maria?" I asked. Who was this Maria? Was she hot? I vaguely remembered a tiny woman in her fifties with big hair who worked there.

"Oh, you should talk to her! I got to be friends with her so now she makes me huge sandwiches." He was friends with the random sandwich lady? Huge sandwiches? Why did this guy make me want to giggle all the time?

"Hey, did you see the email I sent you this morning? The lunch for Matt's birthday will be on Friday," Raj asked as more people gathered around us in the elevator bank.

"Yeah, I did see that just now." So much for getting time to say the perfect thing, strike the perfect tone. "I can't go on Friday, actually. I'm going to Fargo to see my parents and study for my dietetic exam - the one that I told you about. I'm taking the test on Tuesday morning." Ask me out for another time. Ask me out for another time.

Oh God. What if he asked me out for another time?

"Well, next time then." Was I just imagining that he looked disappointed? The elevator going down pinged and he stepped on. "See you in the lunch room?"

"Yes!" I exclaimed and chided myself to tone it down. "Yes. I'll be there in just a bit. Say hi to your buddy Maria for me!" I called out to him as the doors closed. Then the elevator going up pinged. It was nearly full, especially since there was a patient in a wheelchair in there, but I really didn't want to wait another five minutes, maybe more since it was the noon hour. I squeezed in and stood between my cart and the elderly man in the wheel chair. I smiled to myself, nervous about talking to Raj at lunch, excited to see him again, thinking about how cute he wa...

"You know, missy, there would be plenty more space in here if you sat down in my lap!"

I looked down at the elderly man in the wheelchair. He had a full head of gray hair and tattoos of pin-up girls all over his arms. I had been given this proposition by at least four veterans in the past year at the hospital working as a dietetic intern and now as a lab employee. Surprisingly, I had yet to take anyone up on their offer.

I smiled down at the old pervert, "Ah, but there's no need!" The elevator doors opened to the fourth floor.

"We're here! Have a good day." And then I pushed my metal cart at a speed slightly faster than an elderly man in a wheelchair could travel.

*         *         *         *         *

By the time I finished setting up the study supplies and dealing with several minor issues, a full 45 minutes had passed. As I arrived in the break room, Raj was taking the last bite of his sandwich. Damn. I grabbed my lunch from the fridge - turkey and dijon sandwich, yogurt, carrot sticks - and quickly debated where to sit. There was an open chair next to Raj, but also one next to Ruth. Would it be too obvious if I...?

I casually sat down next to Raj and said hi to the group. Not just to Raj. But pretty much just to Raj.

Matt stuck his head in the door of the break room, "Raj! Something is messed up with my real-time samples. I need to get this data to Kumar by the end of the day."

Raj groaned. "Matt, I can't help you every time. I'm eating. You have the protocol."

"Dude! Help me!" Matt looked frantic.

Raj rolled his eyes. "Fine. It's going to cost you. In beer."  He got up and threw away the paper from his sandwich and glanced back at me. "See you later?" I nodded and smiled and felt that now common mixed feeling of relief and disappointment as he left. I turned back to the table.

Ruth had been watching us a little too carefully, with a smirk on her face. Ruh roh. Was it that obvious that I liked him? Or maybe - I almost didn't dare let myself think this thought - was it that obvious we liked each other?

I attempted to give her a casual smile and took a bite of my sandwich. She raised her eyebrow at me, still smirking, and thankfully resumed her conversation with Dan, something about having to rake leaves and her corner lot. And this left me alone to my own thoughts, where I could go over everything that had happened that day.

And as I put it all together, I was pretty sure that something was happening between me and Raj.

Suddenly the bite of sandwich I had just taken felt stuck in my throat.

Shit. Was I ready for a something?

To be continued... 

Next: Chapter 6

Placenta Eater: A True Story

Let's start with a spoiler: I think the placenta pills worked.

And now, the rest of the story... (Paul Harvey voice, obvs)

At the very end of June I shared with you that I planned to have my placenta encapsulated.

(Um, it appears that I wrote that two days before Oliver was born. WHAT WHAT? I swear I wrote it weeks before he was born. How is that possible? Isn't it weird how the arrival of a baby splits time so distinctly into before and after and it can feel like a year stretches out between the before and the after? ANYWAY.)

As a quick recap, placenta encapsulation basically means having your placenta dried all Ronco-Food Dehydrator-style and then the placenta jerky is ground up and put into capsules. Consuming your placenta in pills (or placenta smoothies or chowing on raw placenta or whatever floats your placenta boat) is supposed to help with the following:

• a quicker recovery 
• reduced postpartum bleeding
• improved lactation (increased milk production)
• restored energy
• replenished iron stores
• reduced risk of postpartum depression

And to reiterate - I find/found this whole process weird and creepy. Super weird and creepy. And yet! The pros far outweighed the con of ickiness, so if I did it, so can you. Repeating what I said in the other placenta post: WHY NOT?

Here is how it specifically went down for me. I had pre-packed a large glass bowl with a tight-fitting lid in my hospital bag, in addition to a soft-sided cooler that was large enough to hold the glass bowl.  (It only now occurs to me that we must have re-incorporated that glass bowl right back into our lives for freezing lasagna and whatnot. AWESOME!)  Shortly after pooping out Oliver, I mean birthing, BIRTHING Oliver, I delivered the placenta. (That felt like a smaller poop.) The midwife was already aware that we wanted to encapsulate the placenta so she was careful to keep it nice and ... something. I don't know. She just took good care of it. The midwife put it in the glass bowl and then it was put on ice into the cooler. The fresher the placenta, the better the benefits, or so they say.

And here is where I am going to be very helpful-slash-gross and give you a link to the pictures of my placenta, which many of you creepies wanted to see. I created a new Flickr account just for it. God help the people who stumble upon it by accident. I will say, however, the lighting is fantastic. Good job, Husband!

Placenta Pictures

You should know that I did not like having to do anything with those two pictures. NO SIR, I DID NOT.

Once all the post-birth hubbub was over, I gave Placenta Lady Kelly a phone call (highly recommend her if you are in the market for a Placenta Lady). She congratulated me and let me know that she would stop by the hospital later to pick up my placenta. In the meantime, the placenta stayed in its cooler on ice in the corner of the room, where I both eyed it suspiciously and was simultaneously very concerned about it's state of being - JUST LIKE MY NEW BABY! When Husband's family came to the hospital with Bella, he was so excited to show off the placenta. This was the same Husband who had claimed he didn't want his family to know that we were going to be encapsulating it (which I thought was odd of him to begin with since his immediate family consists of a former surgeon who believes in homeopathic and traditional medicine, a nurse, and a hippie-type with a public medicine degree so this was well within their realm of OK-ness).  They all wanted to look at it, which didn't surprise me at all.

Anyway, Placenta Lady Kelly stopped by while they were visiting so they would have found out anyway. Something to consider if you do want to keep it a private thing, but I'm sure Placenta People are used to working with those types of concerns. So off went my placenta with Kelly (better her than me!) and she said she would deliver the pills to our house once we were back home. Turns out we would be back home in less than 24 hours and Kelly was able to bring it about one hour after getting home. The pills look like this:

****WARNING - PUTTING THIS PICTURE DIRECTLY ON BLOG***** 

They just look like brownish supplement pills, but I want to warn the squeamish. Scroll down real fast to the text under the picture if you are scared.

Placenta Lady Kelly actually came into my bedroom where I was laying in bed due to being so feeblecakes from the hemorrhage. She chatted with me for a bit - explaining more about how to take the pills and their benefits. I love this about hippie birthing things. You can comfortably have a stranger come into your bedroom and talk placentas. I do think I would heart home birthing if I weren't a bleeder.

Speaking of being a bleeder, when she heard about the hemorrhage she told me that the next time (and she was SURE there would be a next time), I should have the midwife - brace yourselves, friends - cut off a piece of the placenta which I would then immediately place under my tongue. It helps to get your uterus to contract much more quickly and prevents hemorrhaging.

Did you just die? It's OK. I did, too.

I think it would take me another 100 years of drinking the hippie Koolaid before I could do such a thing, but probably that means only another two years because being a latent hippie is a powerful thing. So look forward to me telling you about that in 2013. (Please no. I just...can't. I simply cannot.) (Bet I totally will.)

OK. So the plan was to take 2-4 pills a day with juice or wine (!? whee!) and to cut back if I started feeling sort of woozy or experiencing first tri-like symptoms. The pills were kept in the fridge. I took 4 a day (2 in the morning, 2 in the evening) since I was in pretty rough shape with the anemia. It was cool to see that many of the potential problems with anemia are addressed by the placenta pills (i.e. replenished iron stores and increased milk supply). In terms of the pills having a flavor or odor, I did notice a bit of an iron smell and taste. It grossed me out, so I tried to take them fast and not think about it too much. The smell/taste got a little stronger over the several weeks I took them.

But icky taste and the weirdness of dealing with one's placenta would not be enough to stop me from doing this all again. Because I really do think the placenta pills were beneficial. Of course there is no definitive proof of this since there cannot be a matched study. I can't compare my two births to each other since the circumstances were different and I can't compare myself to another woman's experience. So this is all just case study type stuff. But I love case studies, and I do think they have their place.

Without further ado, here is why I believe they did help me:

• I never developed postpartum depression even though my postpartum situation was just ripe for it to develop - especially when you consider that I had a history of depression and was dealing with several complications for both Oliver and I - plus I have a needy-pants toddler. I did experience "baby blues", but it only really happened once the thrush set in and it disappeared when the thrush symptoms let up. So I don't know if it's even fair to call it baby blues when it might have just been straight up feelings of being very overwhelmed when having to deal with one more thing. The whole 'straw that broke the camel's back' if you will. Husband agrees that I seemed more even keel this time, despite the multiple added stressors of my postpartum period. There were a couple times I burst into tears, but they were all at normal times, rather than it being so random like it was after Bella. Finally, and this is going to be TMI, my sex drive was back by two weeks postpartum. To which I was like, "What? What is this?" It was not like that during my first postpartum experience. It has remained fairly strong ever since. I don't know about you but having a solid sex drive is a pretty good sign of not being depressed. ANYWAY. Sorry for the overshare. (Not really. BOW CHICKA WOW WOW!)

• My iron levels were back to normal by 5 weeks postpartum. This is within the realm of normal, although maybe it's a little on the faster side.  It can take a long time for others before their iron is back to normal. Hard to say how much placenta pills played a role in this since I was also good about taking my iron supplement and trying to eat iron-rich foods. However, consuming my own iron via placenta pills to get my iron levels back up HAD to be helpful. It's like a custom-made iron pill!

• A common problem with anemia is that your milk is very slow to come in and your supply can be low. My milk came in very quickly and I had over-supply problems. In fairness, I should mention that my milk came in quickly with Bella, too, so maybe it's just my body?

• By 6 weeks postpartum I jumped right back into my exercise plan (by then the thrush and anemia were resolved), which was kind of amazing to me since I had been physically restricted during my third trimester and then was practically on bed-rest for weeks after delivery. Did placenta pills aid in this recovery? I think so.

• When I didn't take my pills for a few days, I found myself having a harder time. Nothing huge, but more feelings of being overwhelmed and exhausted. Once I resumed taking my pills everyday, I felt better.

So that is my experience with consuming my own placenta, just like our friends in the animal kingdom. I wish I had solid, without-a-doubt proof that placenta pills helped me, but I don't. I wonder what my experience would have been like without the hemorrhage and thrush - I suspect I would have glided through the postpartum period with very few "baby blues" type feelings. Regardless of proof or not, I found placenta pills to be helpful - even if it was just a placebo thing.

Questions? Comments? Anyone else chow down their placenta recently along with me?