Whining

Did you miss me? I haven't blogged in a while. On Friday, Michael and I both took off work to get some things done around the house, and good thing we did. I also had my baby doctor appointment that day, where my doctor, after examining me, said that he felt sure I would go into labor earlier than expected, substantially earlier. Yeah, I know, doctors say that all the time and it often doesn't happen. But for a psycho planner like me, that was chilling news indeed. Due to my medical history, we have decided on a planned C-section, which we have already scheduled. It is in three weeks. Three weeks, I said. But according to my doctor, Sprout didn't get the memo about the schedule. I just knew this kid was going to turn my life upside down. So needless to say, Michael and I spent the weekend doing all the things that we thought we have plenty of time to do. The nursery is now ready, except for a few decorative touches that I'm very little concerned with just now. I have packed my hospital bag, mostly, and I washed the five million baby outfits and blankies that we have gotten. Certainly, there is still stuff to be done, but I've made a list and schedule for those things.
In addition to the frantic activity over the past week, I have just become downright huge. Well maybe not huge, but my belly definitely precedes me when I enter a room. And my feet are swelling. I know it happens to every pregnant woman, but I'm not every pregnant woman, I'm me and I'm just going to whine about it for a minute. Okay. All done. Thanks for indulging me. Thus far, I have been consoling myself with ice cream, which has been surprisingly helpful. It's supposed to hit ninety degrees here tomorrow, which means I should probably stock up on more ice cream.
Thanks to some budget-based restructuring fallout at work, I have a new boss. I think this will work out fine, although the timing certainly could have been better. I had rather hoped just to coast until going on maternity leave, but the new boss has given me a big, research-intensive assignment. And this at a time where I can't manage to wrangle and hold one single thought in my head. So yeah, there's a little stress there too. Just when I get the stress under control, another Braxton-Hicks contraction will hit, sending me into super panic mode again.
So really, I'm sorry for all the whining I'm doing here, but I felt like getting all these fears down and out would be beneficial. We'll see. But make no mistake, I am absolutely thrilled at the prospect of meeting my baby boy. I'm just a little terrified too.

Momentous

May marks the one-year anniversary of this blog. Not that, you know, that's such a huge deal, but I thought it warranted a mention. What is a huge deal is that today, I got to cast my vote for a woman for President of the United States. I know that Hillary's chances look slim, but I can't tell you how much I appreciate her staying in the race long enough for me to have the opportunity to vote for her. A lot of people say she's hurting the party by remaining in the race. Let me tell you something: If the democratic process hurts the party, then it isn't much of a party to begin with. Politics is changing, and the old farts and the media need to accept that. I think the country is better for having had a real, honest-to-goodness primary race. No matter how you voted, if you live in Kentucky and voted today, then your vote was a momentous one. Well, if you're a Democrat anyway. If you're a Republican, then congratulations, you got to vote for another old white guy. Don't you feel just grand?
Kentuckians almost never get a say in Presidential nominees, but voting in this primary was particularly gratifying. Actually, I am always gratified by getting to vote. I am a blind woman. For most of this country's history, I would have been denied the right to vote, but not anymore. Today, I went to my polling place, chatted with the nice poll workers, and was shown to a talking voting booth that I could use independently. Independently! There is much wrong with our country, much that I hope our next President will work to fix, but today, I voted. Independently! Even ten years ago, that was not a possibility. It's proof that things can change. Think about this: A blind woman voted at a talking voting machine and had the option to cast her ballot for a woman or for an African American. How can you read that sentence and not feel a sense of national pride? It isn't often that I feel optimistic about the United States, but I absolutely did this morning.
If you live in Kentucky, please get out and vote today. And no matter where you live, if your reason for not voting has to do with your registration or some such technicality, please make it a point to rectify the situation by November. We have all heard time and time again that people fought and died for our right to vote. I think we hear it so much it's a cliché, meaningless. But I know the meaning. Today, I voted independently, and it meant a hell of a lot to me.

Another Random Friday

I have very little in the way of interesting stuff to write about today, but Michael said he likes to read my blog while he's eating his lunch, so I'm feeling some pressure here to make my husband happy. He is after all, about 20% of my regular readership. Sweetie, be warned: Keep your expectations low.
Michael's 8-month-old niece had to be taken to the hospital in an ambulance yesterday after she fell off the bed onto the hardwood floor. Thankfully, she is fine. A CT scan showed nothing out of the ordinary, but what a terrifying few hours. I know her mother is feeling a great deal of guilt, but seriously, this kind of thing could happen to anybody, and frequently does. I wake up at night in a cold sweat that I will do something that will end up harming my baby. Mostly I worry about this because I am blind, but I realize accidents happen to children of all kinds of parents. What I learned from this is to never put my baby on the bed. No doubt, that is the point at which Sprout will decide it's time to learn to roll over or crawl. I'm only setting my kid down in things that have safety straps or side rails.
The other night, between the time I got home and the time I went to bed, I ate a slice of Black Forest cake that my mother made me for Mother's Day, a double cheeseburger and fries from Sonic, and a pint of butter pecan ice cream. No kidding, I am now officially huge.
I have never seen an Indiana Jones movie. I think we might rent at least the first one this weekend. I won/t be seeing the new movie at the theater because I hate movie theaters (too cold and too loud), but a favorite author of mine, James Rollins, has been commissioned to write the novelization of the upcoming Indiana Jones movie. I generally think making a book out of a movie is stupid, but it kind of works for me. I'll get far more out of that than today's special effects-heavy blockbusters. And I think the book comes out next week, so I guess I need to figure out what this Indiana Jones business is about. Yes, I am an old person.
Tuesday is Kentucky's Presidential primary. For the first time in a long time, my state will actually have a say in who gets elected. I can't wait to vote!
This month marks the one year anniversary of this blog. As this post will attest, this blog is somewhat directionless. I've kicked around the idea of starting another blog, one that would have a narrower focus, but as I'm not sure what that focus would be, I'll probably just stick to spewing out disconnected thoughts here. I hope that's okay with my five readers. How does one increase one's blog readership anyway? And do I really even care? Yes, it's life's big questions that I'm pondering today folks.
Well, that's it for this Friday's edition of mind-numbing boredom. Join me back here next week when I explore the question: "Why do I have even five readers?"

Thursday Thirteen: Things that Really Annoy Me

1. Diane Sawyer-- Really, I cannot stand her. She asks questions like, "So how did you feel when your child was violently murdered?" Well gee Diane, I bet it put something of a damper on her day. Good grief woman, quit fishing for melodrama already. You are just such an after school special.
2. When people tell me how incredibly busy they are-- If you have the time to tell me how busy you are, you probably aren't that busy.
3. Getting coupons in the mail the day before they expire-- This has been happening to us a lot lately, and really, I would have like that 10% off a breast pump.
4. Rap music blaring from a piece-of-shit car with rattley speakers-- Admittedly, I don't like being forced to listen to the musical selections of others while waiting at stoplights, no matter what the music is, but really, it does tend to be rap an overwhelming percentage of the time. And that rattley speaker noise just makes the roots of my hair hurt.
5. When people that I have not spoken to or thought about in more than a decade come up to me and say "Hey, I bet you don't know who I am, do you?" Well, you're an asshole, and that's pretty much all I need to know.
6. Disney-- I have adopted Molly's stand on Disney. Michael has been reading a story to the baby every night, and unfortunately the majority of the books we have so far are Disney. First, Bambi's mother got killed, then there was Pinocchio, then last night was the cruelty heaped on poor little Dumbo. I just couldn't handle it and we had to stop reading only a few pages in. I just can't take it when people are mean to babies right now. I'm very emotional just now. Disney, I hate you.
7. When our entire neighborhood decides to mow their lawns on Sunday morning-- It's loud, it stirs up my allergies, and it makes us feel guilty about the unruly weed field that is our yard.
8. Wow, looks like I've got some aggression issues today, huh?
9. When my local Barnes and Noble doesn't have a book I've been waiting for on the day of its release. Or worse, when they have the print book, but not the audio book. Or worse still, when the only audio book edition they have is abridged. I swear off our local Barnes and Noble on a monthly basis.
10. When it's cold and rainy in May-- We've been getting a lot of this lately.
11. When people offer to help with something and then seem surprised or even affronted when you actually give them something to do.
12. When visitors drop in without calling. I am likely to mistake you for a Jehovah's Witness if you visit without calling on a Saturday morning, and let me assure you, the ensuing scene will not be pretty.
13. Jehovah's Witnesses-- Really, does this one require an explanation?

Baked Orzo

Here’s a recipe that we tried for the first time last night. I got it off Food Network's “Everyday Italian.” Here’s a link to the recipe online. It was a hearty pasta dish that was made interesting by peas and mushrooms. NOTE: Next time, I’ll probably double the amount of mushrooms because they really make the dish. If you do that, I assume you’d have to adjust the butter and Marsala wine accordingly. Also, it calls for fresh mozzarella and fontina cheeses. Doubtless, it would be better that way, but groceries are wicked expensive right now, and this being my first time with this recipe, I opted for the substantially cheaper Italian blend of shredded cheeses. If I were making this for company, I’d definitely get the better cheese.

Baked Orzo with Fontina and Peas

4 cups chicken broth
1 pound orzo pasta
3 tablespoons butter, plus more to grease the baking dish
1 onion, chopped
8 ounces mushrooms, sliced
1 cup Marsala wine
1/2 cup heavy cream
4 ounces shredded fontina cheese (about 1 cup)
4 ounces diced fresh mozzarella cheese (about 1 cup)
1 cup frozen peas, thawed
1/2 teaspoon salt
1/2 teaspoons freshly ground black pepper
1/2 cup bread crumbs
1/4 cup grated Parmesan
1 teaspoon dried thyme
Preheat the oven to 400 degrees F. Butter a 9 by 13-inch baking dish. Bring the chicken broth to a boil over medium-high heat in a medium saucepan. Add the orzo and cook until almost tender, about 7 minutes. Pour the orzo and the broth into a large bowl. Set aside. Meanwhile, melt the butter over medium heat in a medium skillet. Add the onions and sauté until tender, about 3 minutes. Add the mushrooms and continue to saute until the mushrooms are beginning to turn golden around the edges, about 7 minutes. Add the Marsala. Scrape the brown bits off the bottom of the pan and cook until the Marsala has reduced by half, about 5 minutes. Add the mushroom mixture to the orzo in the large bowl. Add the cream, fontina, mozzarella, peas, salt, and pepper. Stir to combine. Pour the mixture into the prepared baking dish. In a small bowl combine the bread crumbs, Parmesan, and dried thyme. Sprinkle the bread crumb mixture on top of the pasta. Bake until golden, about 25 minutes. Enjoy.

I am about to begin cooking and freezing meals for Michael and me to eat after the baby comes. If I don't do this, the temptation to just order pizza or run out for fast food will be too overwhelming. Even with a store of healthy meals, there will probably be a lot of fast food consumed. So if anyone has any recipes, cookbooks, or websites that contain freezer-friendly recipes, I'd appreciate the suggestion. You know what that means: It's time to pull out those casserole recipes. Thanks.

A Bad Week, Cholesterol, and Cell Phone Etiquette

So here's another collection of random thoughts from me. Actually, most of my thoughts of late have been of the random variety because this has been the week from hell. Hell, I tell you! There is a pretty nasty budget cut situation going on at work that directly impacted my department but thankfully, not my job. Not yet anyway. That situation brought on one screamer of a headache that kept me down for about two days, two days that I really did not have to spare. Because we are not mentally sound people, Michael and I are involved in a home upgrade project, right here when we're six weeks away from having a baby. This week was the worst of it though, which I'm pretty sure I have been saying every week for two months now. But the carpet layers came this week and that part of the nightmare is over. for now. That finishes up all the indoor work except for the nursery. The backyard is still a giant mud pit, but we're getting to that.
We got Garnet, my 13-year-old black Lab, a new collar. It's pink with silver reflective paw prints on it. It is too precious and she loves it. She's always worn the training collar, standard apparel for a service dog, but she's started using the jingling sound that collar makes to her advantage. My dog has a very devious mind. When she doesn't think we are attending to her needs fast enough-- say, in the middle of the night-- she does that flappy head and ear thing usually reserved for shaking off water. The end result is that she wakes me up several times a night with the collar jingling. So we're putting this new canvass collar on her at night, but putting the training collar back on her during the day. Like I said, she's devious, and knows that I can't hear her without the jingle jingle of the training collar, so she uses this to her advantage. "Garnet, come. Garnet, come! Garnet, get over here damn it!!!" All the while, she's sitting about five feet from me, smirking. Really, she smirks. But she really does love her new collar, so much so that I have trouble getting the old training collar back on her in the mornings. Anyway, so I want to take a picture of Garnet with her snazzy new collar, but as you might imagine, Blinkie here ain't so good with the picture takin'. So I'm going to see if Michael can get to that this weekend, you know, in between the pressing yard work, nursery readying, and Mother's Day. I told you this was the week from hell.
We have not been grocery shopping in ten days. Now, I realize that that's standard for some people, but not for us. We don't eat out a lot, preferring to cook at home and take our lunches to work. We just haven't had time for grocery shopping this week. Well, we probably did but I had that killer headache I mentioned, and then last night, well it was raining, and who wants to go grocery shopping in the rain. Anyway, so for breakfast this morning, instead of our usual healthy whole grain bagel or cereal, we went through the drive-thru at Hardee's. I got a sausage, egg, and cheese biscuit and a large order of hash rounds. Yikes! But really, a cholesterol overdose was just the way to end this week, trust me. There is also the incredibly weird situation going on with my weight. I'm pregnant, as you might recall from my relentless mentioning of that fact, and I had my Ob appointment yesterday. I lost a fourth of a pound. What! Now, I am more conscious of what I eat right now than I ever have been at any point in my life, but I don't think you could say I'm really sacrificing. If I want ice cream (and I want it a lot let me assure you) then I have ice cream. Mmmmm, ice cream. Michael, maybe you had better pick up some ice cream on your way home. I'm pretty sure we're out. Wait, where was I? Right, my weight. So I lost eleven pounds early on in my pregnancy from the morning sickness, and since then have been gaining and losing in turn. Taken from my weight at my first appointment, I have gained a total of less than ten pounds during my pregnancy. Not bad. But I have also lost more weight overall than I have in a very long time. How fair is that? Some sick joke from the diet fairy? So, I figured that lost fourth of a pound entitled me to a sausage biscuit. Ah, I think we might have just hit on why diets never work for me.
One more thing, at the Ob's office yesterday, there were two people in the waiting room talking on cell phones at the same time. They kept getting louder and louder in an effort to talk over each other. Actually, there were way more than two people talking on cell phones, but these two were particularly annoying. It was like listening to Dueling Rednecks. Here's the thing people: No matter how far away the person you're talking to on the phone is, they can still hear you. It's sort of the point of a telephone. There is no need to shout! Really. Honestly. I'm sure about this. I realize the topic of cell phone etiquette is overdone and largely ignored, but let me say anyway that when you can leave the room to talk on your cell phone, then please do so. Your fellow doctor's office waiters will thank you.
So I hope everyone has a great weekend. Don't forget, it's Mother's Day on Sunday. If you forget, you'll never hear the end of it. Not officially a mom yet, I'm only asking for a cake. And really, I'd be asking for that cake regardless of it being Mother's Day. It's that fourth of a pound, you understand.

Derby Day Part II

I blogged on Friday about Derby Day. Little did I know tragedy would befall the race. The only filly in the race, Eight Belles ran impressively, ultimately finishing second to Big Brown. To recap, after crossing the finish line, eight Belles collapsed. I'm not sure how much of it the camera and thus the television audience saw, but the other horses made enough of a commotion to alert the commentators and announcers that something was amiss. Michael and I, like everybody I suspect, watched without a clue that what was going on would be as bad as it was. Announcers were cutting from one to another in attempt to keep coverage rolling while trying to find out what happened. Somebody snagged the veterinarian and they instantly cut to him. And this is when things really got horrific.
The vet said, live and on the air, that Eight Belles had suffered compound fractures to both front ankles, an extremely painful injury, and so had been euthanized on the track.
What?!? Did he just say euthanized? OMG! He did. He said euthanized.
I have to tell you, after just watching such a beautiful horse run like a champion, this was sad and jarring news indeed. In a horserace, you almost expect to see a horse get bumped and go down during a race, or even to see a jokey get thrown. It isn't pretty, but it happens. Horses, after all, are massive and powerful animals. But this? This news after the race is over? No, you don't expect that.
Naturally, the speculation started instantly. There have been calls for an investigation, as their should be, into the jockey, the race, the horse, the trainer, the health of the horse, etc. When something like this happens, no stone should be left unturned. Bring it on, I say. Except to those people who say a filly should not have been in the race. Um, hello. She finished second! If you want to question whether a horse should have been in the race, ask the question of the horse who came in last. I'm an equine feminist as well I suppose.
I must admit, this Derby made me regret my enthusiasm for horseracing. I felt a little ashamed that my interest might have somehow contributed to this tragedy. It is undeniably one of the saddest things I have seen in sports.
I do want to make one point, not about the race or the horse, but about public relations, being a pr practitioner myself. To the vet: doc, you do not announce the death of a horse five minutes after the Kentucky Derby. There is just no way to recover the festive atmosphere after that. If you are forced to make any statement at all, you just say that track officials are looking into the situation. True, but vague enough to keep the program moving along. Let me repeat: You do not announce the death of a horse immediately following the Kentucky Derby. I feel sure Churchill Downs will have just such a policy in place, oh, probably by yesterday.
For my part, this will forever color how I view horseracing and the Kentucky Derby.

Derby Day

As a Kentuckian, I feel a responsibility to mention Derby Day. To be honest, I have never been to the Derby, most Kentuckians haven't. We either can't afford it or choose to avoid the insane crowds. I live in the southern part of the Commonwealth, and am actually closer to Nashville, Tennessee than to Louisville. I think of Louisville as more of a Midwestern type city than a Southern one, except, of course, on Derby Day. On Derby Day, Louisville brings out its decorous sunhats, it's deceptively dainty-looking mint juleps, and puts on the Southern charm. This is not, in my experience, the Louisville of say, the first Saturday in October.
It is something to have such an international sporting event so close to where I live, I must admit. The Queen of England and several Arab princes, not to mention countless millionaires and celebrities, have come to Kentucky just because of our reputation for superior horses and for the spectacle that is Derby Day. I believe Hillary Clinton is due to be in attendance this year, with Eight Belles being her pick. The filly in the race is a good choice for the first woman to run for President. (Three fillies have previously won the Kentucky Derby.)
My family has honored a few Derby Day traditions, but they have been largely abandoned in recent years. We used to always have a cookout before the race and share in a pool to pick the winning horse. I am not bad at picking a good horse, which is owing to nothing more than sheer dumb luck, let me assure you. This year, I'm letting Hillary lead the way, and I'm going with Eight Belles. Probably, Michael and I will stop our Saturday chores (working in the yard and readying the nursery) long enough to watch some of the pre-race coverage and the three minutes of the actual race. And like always, I'll get a little misty when the University of Louisville Marching Band plays "My Old Kentucky Home" because how can you not? The state of my birth doesn't offer up very many points of pride: We are routinely near the bottom in things like funding for education and healthcare and near the top in things like smoking and drug use, but one thing we do know about is spectacle. Much of Derby Day is sickeningly sentimental, but I'd put money on mine not being the only teary eyes tomorrow as those magnificent horses parade proudly to the gate in their quest for immortal glory.

Thursday Thirteen: Thirteen Things about Me

1. I always hit elevator buttons twice. Maybe it's a trust issue.
2. I love movie soundtracks and movie trailers but rarely ever watch movies.
3. I have a love/hate relationship with socks. I love big warm woolly socks in winter, but can't wait to free my toes in spring.
4. Before leaving the house, I always check to see that the toaster is unplugged, even if nobody used the toaster that day.
5. I cannot judge amounts. Michael has to pour our morning breakfast cereal because I usually pour enough for six people. And I don't just do this with the cereals I like. I even do it with Michael's crappy healthy cereal.
6. I love purses, the cheaper the better. The less they cost the more of them I can buy.
7. My husband has exactly seven letters in all three of his names-- first, middle, and last. Who else but me would have bothered to count?
8. I am addicted to Chap Stick.
9. In knitting, I knit extremely loose with circulars and extremely tight with double pointed needles. I have to buy circulars at least one size smaller than a pattern calls for and dpn's at least one size larger.
10. I drink at least a liter of water everyday.
11. I have never had a cavity.
12. I am mortally, horrifically afraid of grasshoppers. Shiver.
13. I am a chronic station flipper when it comes to the car radio, and we have XM satellite radio, so this can get pretty annoying.
So that's thirteen random, quirky things about me. If you'd like to play Thursday Thirteen, just leave me a link to your list in the comments.