This is long, but I swear I'm not flipping you off,

Friday night I went to the Cheesecake Factory with my mom, Ed, Lucas and Lara. We each had a turkey burger and then went home. I got home around 9:30m since it was dark outside I didn't want Louis to escape, I opened the front door and tried to get in without letting him escape. So I snuck in really and quickly slammed the front door. Louis did not escape ...My finger was not so lucky.

I slammed my middle, right-hand finger in the front door. After the initial impact, my first instinct was to pull my finger up towards my face and grab it with my other hand. With that, blood went flying across my face and all across the walls ... I ran to the bathroom to rinse it off and saw the blood on m face and began to panic. Did I mention the blood?

I got a towel to try and stop the bleeding, but it just kept coming! I became even more scared and decided I needed Greggie to come home ... I didn't want to let go of my finger so I dialed the phone number really quickly and then put the phone on my shoulder to hold it in place and waited for Greg to answer. Unfortunately, Greg was at a bar with a friend and it was loud and he couldn't really understand me ... this is what he said I sounded like, but I think he's wrong ... http://www.killerclips.com/greeting.php?mqg=25205.

I remember saying "The baby is okay, but I slammed my finger in the door and you need to come home." He apparently doesn't remember it the same way.

When he got home I was lying on the floor holding my finger ... he saw the blood all over the house and couldn't really understand what I was saying. Once I calmed down a bit he and Ryan took me to the ER.

The ER is a disgusting place. Everyone looks sick and miserable and you don't want to touch anything. When we first arrived the woman at the check-in station said it wasn't going to be very long ... she was very wrong!

After about 1 -2 hours of waiting I started cramping. Because I'm pregnant that means that you have to go labor and delivery. I was calm at this point, in fact I had calmed down a great deal and in my mind I knew everything was fine ... however, as we walked the long halls, following the signs to "maternity" I started becoming increasingly more nervous. The halls were lined with pictures of babies and healthy families and I started getting very scared. That was when I wanted my mom. What if something bad was happening? What if I had to delivery BHR, he's only a cauliflower?

I hope BHR needs me as much as I need my mom. Not that Greg wasn't helpful or supportive, because I couldn't have done it without him there either, but there's definitely something different about having my mom there. Having both of them in the room with me helped me feel better, or made me feel like I would be okay.

They put us in a room to monitor the baby and make sure I wasn't having contractions. Theyu strapped some belts across my belly and Greg and I listened to BHR's little heart-beat. I start feeling a little more calm and then I heard "Ayeyaiyai" (not sure how to spell that out) ... there was a woman behind the curtain who was actually in labor and she was in pain! It didn't matter that she didn't speak english, all I heard was pain!

I kept saying to Greg "I'm not ready for this, do you hear that lady?" I was so NOT going into labor! I had to be okay ... My finger was still oozing and my stomach was still cramping. Everytime the woman next to me let out a "yelp" I told myself I was okay.

Eventually they let me leave labor and delivery. I was okay and so was BHR, but my finger was still oozing. They plopped me in a wheel chair and dropped me off back in the ER. I had hoped that the site of a pregnant woman in a wheel chair would get me into see the doctor sooner, but unfortunately that was not the case.

My mom raided the vending machines and Greg kept giving me water from my hospital sippy straw and we waited ...

Eventually, probably around 2:30 or 3:00am we got into see the Doctor. He told me that they were going to have to take the nail off my finger, it was already pretty destroyed, and then clean up the nail bed and the sew the nail back on. I had to have x-rays and he would be back to take care of everything else ... with that I started feeling really nauseous, I got up to run to the bathroom. I knocked on the door, opened the door, saw the toilet and barfed all over the bathroom! I guess that explains the cramps.

My mom then came in and tried to hold my hair back for me ... I couldn't stop throwing up and there was turkey burger everywhere! I'm not entirely sure what was so funny, but my mom couldn't stop laughing. I begged her to make the barfing stop, but that only fueled her laughter. I couldn't bend over very well because of the baby, so I just sort of hung over the toilet until the barfing stopped. I had puke everywhere ... it was like I sprayed down the bathroom with a vomit hose. It was disgusting,

My bed was right across from the bathroom and everytime someone walked over to use it I would see them open the door and then close it quite quickly. I hung my head in shame and muttered "sorry."

The Doctor eventually came back and I had to have two shots of numbing medicine in my finger and 10 or 11 stitches on my nail bed and 3 more to hold the nail in place. The numbing medicine began to fade towards the end and I thought I was going to pass out from the pain. Greg held my hand the entire time and didn't get sick once. The doctor's kept offering him a chair, in fact they encouraged him to sit down in case he got squeemish and fainted, but he didn't need it. Maybe he was preparing for September when everything gets a bit more real and bit more gross?

They finished sewing me up and gave me some pain meds and a prescription. The three of us headed out of the ER as if we had just been in battle ... I was wearing two hospital gounds, beige socks, a big white bandage and barf. We stopped by Walgreens at 4:00am to pick up the pain meds and my mom dropped us off at the scene of the crime, still splattered with blood. I'm pretty sure I could not have made it through this without Greg or my mom. It was a practice round, on a much smaller scale, for what it's going to be like in September. I'm hoping I'll be much more prepared by then.

What makes it all worse is that I have a final exam this evening. As if law school wasn't bad enough, right? It consists of 50 multiple choice questions all of which I have to bubble in on a scantron. Not sure how that's going to happen since I can barely do anything with my right hand, but I'm sure I'll make it work. I'm not asking for miracles, this is law school and McGeorge for cryin' out loud, I just want to pass.

So, if you see me out and about and it looks like I'm flipping you off, I'm not, it's just a giant band- aid reminding me that whenever things seem challenging, there's always something worse that can happen.

What's BHR going to look like?

I've been wondering about what BHR might look like...so I dug up some pictures of Greg and I.

Cauliflower

BHR is almost 2 pounds this week, like a head of cauliflower, and is about 14 1/2 inches long with his legs extended.

I prefer brocoli when given the choice, but that's to eat, not to grow.

Bangs were a bad idea ... should have gone to Il Fornaio

I'm feeling uninspired with my writing these days ... maybe it's the weather and the smoke is clouding my brain? Maybe it's the law school exam that I have hanging over my head? Maybe it's the fact that I should have never cut bangs and now I have to live with this silly decision for the next 4-6 months until they grow out to a manageable length? Maybe it's the dissappointing lunch experience that I had today? Who knows ...

Today was supposed to be a happy day. Pluot day! I marched over to the farmer's market, ready for my pluots and they weren't right. In fact, something was very off. They were green, like smushy green apples. I found some others and I hope they're okay, but maybe they're feeling uninspired as well.

I went to my cherry stand and there's only one more week of cherries left! I wasn't as dissappointed as I thought I'd be. The cherries had run their course, but it feels so soon. Pluots were supposed to fill the void, but not this week.

My dissappointing lunch should have been the sign. The sign that I need to be more patient and make sure I get what I really want. Instead of settling for stinky park cafe, I should have gone to my new favorite place ... Il Fornaio sandwich stand place!

Oh Il Fornaio, how I love your tasty bread with your delicious chicken. How you make me feel happy and pleased with all of my selections. Oh how I love your tasty lemonade and zesty salad dressing. I could eat you everyday ...

Labor and delivery

Monday morning I realized I hadn't felt BHR kick in quite a while ... I thought about it and realized I hadn't felt his morning movements. The feeling that he is trying to push me up out of bed. Sometimes I think that he is trying to motivate me to get up and get going.

On my way to work I decided to call the Doctor just to be sure everything was okay. I called and told the nurse I hadn't felt BHR move since Sunday sometime and she told me "you need to call work and tell them that either way you are not going to be in this morning ... you need to go home, drink some ice water and count the movements ... " there was more talking and then I heard "and then go to labor and delivery." I think that's when I freaked out.

I called Greg ... he ran home! Almost listerally running. My godmother actually said she saw Greg running down 65th street. Luckily I felt BHR move a bunch after the ice water before Greg and my mom came over, but it was scary. Hearing the words "labor and delivery" was not something that I expected to hear. I wasn't ready, I'm still not ready...

I think I'm ready to be a mom, but I'm not ready for labor ... is that bad? When I was driving home after talking to the nurse, I thought "what if I did this? What if it was because I complained about being fat and ugly and I made him feel bad?" Once I felt him move around I was so relieved, I promised him that I would try and stop complaining about how I look, he's not making me unattractive on purpose.

Maybe he was sleeping, maybe he was exhausted from the Babymoon ... I don't know. He's bouncing like crazy right now. maybe trying to escape law school and community property.

I've never seen this much water in a raft!

So I'm sitting in class and barely paying attention ... BHR is trying to flee my tummy and escape the misery as well. Only one more class to go and then an exam and then another break. I can't wait! I received an angry email today, apparently I've been slacking on my entries, so here's what we've been up to...

Greg and I went to Lake Tahoe this past weekend for our "babymoon". We stayed in a small condo near Tahoe City and the best part was that Gary got to come with us. Friday night I woke up around 2:30am in picked my head and Gary was lying next to the bed staring at me. As soon as I picked my head up and started wagging his tail as if to say "Are you ready to go? Is it time?" I had to tell him that it wasn't time and he put his sad little head back down on the floor. We repeated this process a few more times over the course of the night.

On Saturday we took Gary up the tram to high camp at Squaw Valley. We hiked up to a monument about 1 1/2 miles up. Gary saw snow for the first time and made snow angels. I felt okay, but slow. Greg walked behind me, maybe to make sure I didn't feel bad for making him walk so slowly or maybe to make sure I didn't fall backwards. We got to the top and realized that we were on part of the Western States 100 mile race course. At that point, I was glad I wasn't able to run. After High Camp we wandered around the village and looked at bad artwork. People complimented Gary and Greg and I acted like proud parents. We then took Gary swimming in the lake ... he never gets tired!

On Sunday we took Gary rafting. Gary swam along the side of the raft for most of the trip. When he was in the raft he was shaking with excitement. The river was mostly peaceful until the very end, right before you return the raft...we were just following the current, made it the whole way without any major disasters and then right before we were supposed to de-raft, we got stuck. Stuck on one giant rock. I stayed in the raft holding onto Gary and the backpack, while Greg tried to get us "unstuck." I watched each one of our oars float by and then each one of Greg's shoes. I sat and watched all of the "raft guys" on the dock look at us in amazement. Finally one of them hopped into the river, helped Greg and off we floated to the dock. As we got out of the raft, each "raft guy" commented on the amount of water in our raft ... "holy sh*t, I've never seen this much water in a raft" "oh my god, look at all this water!" Yeah, yeah, yeah ... there was a lot of water in the F-ing raft, move on.

Gary and I slept the whole way home ... peaceful and relaxed.

This is a long one, but pluots are so tasty!

Today is the farmer's market. Technically, there's a farmer's market everyday, but for some reason I really like today's the best. It's close to my work, but that's not why I like it. I like the park, I like that it's round and I can walk in a circle and see all of the fresh produce and breads. It reminds me of being Italy last summer with Greg. Not that we went to a bunch of farmer's markets when we were there, but it feels fresh and healthy. Even if I were to buy a giant pastry from the bread people, it would still feel healthy. However, I have to say, I have not been impressed by the bread people at the farmer's markets ... it looks sweaty, like the bread is screaming on the inside to be let out, there are little sweat beads on the inside of the bag.

My new favorite things for the day are pluots! I've never really been much of a plum fan or an apricot fan, but put them together, and they are one tasty fruit!

When Lucas and I were kids we had a plum tree in the backyard. We would swim all summer and pick the plums by the pool. Lucas would throw them into the pool and then we'd go diving for them. Those were the days when I didn't hate swimming. We'd spend the entire summer with our friends hanging out in the backyard and playing. I miss those days ... when summer was actually summer. It wasn't just going to work on days when it's hotter outside. Summers meant something ... school was out and it was fun. We'd go to summer camps and have BBQ's and sleep over at our friend's houses on weeknights. Our biggest worry was which movie were going to rent at the video store.

I remember when I was around 12 years old and my best friend and I really wanted to see the movie "Casual Sex" with Leah Thompson and Andrew Dice Clay. (Not sure why). My mom was very hesitant to let us rent it, completely understandable. So, we went up to the video store on the corner, Flash Video, and Katie and I were begging her. I remember she carried the movie around with her and then from the back of the store she yelled all the way up to the front, "What do you think about casual sex for 11 and 12 year-old girls?"

The guy at the front was probably around 16 or 17, or at least in my mind he was, and he turned bright red. My mom then realized what she asked and sort of scrambled to clarify her words "I mean, the movie! Not actual sex for young girls!" (or something like that). I think I was embarrassed because my mom mentioned my age, I'm sure I didn't realize what she actually asked. When your 12 years old, I think everything your parents do or did in front of a boy was embarrassing. We got to rent the movie and probably didn't understand anything that happened. We felt grown-up and adult. The movie was PG-13 and it was summer and everything was fun and perfect.

Looking back, I hope I'm able to laugh and spend time with BHR the way my mom did with me and Lucas and our friends. We have so many stories of laughing together and being together. Recently Ed found a school assignment that I made in grade school ... one of the one's where you say "what's your favorite color" or "what's your favorite animal." This one asked "if you could be any type of car, what would you be?" I wrote, a "Plymouth Voyager" and drew a picture of my mom's mini-van with the wood-paneling. We called that car the "power machine". I have so many fond memories of being in that van ... even when the door was falling off and we were trapped with dog barf and diarhea in the backseats, that car seemed magical because I feel like we were always laughing. I remember my mom singing Whitney Houston and wishing I could one day sing as well as her; leaning forward to make the car go faster; traveling to school field trips. These are things that I hope I'm able to do with BHR. Not necessarily getting stuck with dog barf in the backseat of a minivan, but creating fun and interesting memories with my family.

Summers in Sacramento are hot, but I've lived here almost my whole life and when I think back, it's not the heat that I remember.

Best Day Ever!

Gary and I started our morning off with a one hour walk with our friends. What a beautiful morning ... Friday's are my happy days. No school, laid back work day and the beginning of the weekend.

The best thing about today is that Gary got to come to work with me. There are only 3 people in the office today and they said it was cool, so I packed up all of Gary's toys and necessary items and headed off to the office.

Here's what I've decided. If everyone were able to bring their animals to work, having to go to work everyday would be much more enjoyable. He smiled the whole way ... he freaked out a bit in the elevators, but otherwise he seems to be very happy. He's holding his giant aligator baby and lying on the floor. Everytime I get up from my desk he follows me and smiles as he trots along side.

"What could possibly make today better" I asked myself and then it appeared ... A giant box of Cap'n Crunch! Oh Cap'n Crunch, how crunch in my mouth and delight my tastebuds with your sugary goodness.

Today is the best day, not just because I'm spending it with the best dog ever, but also because he loves spending it with me and now we have a giant box of sugary goodness.

First Semi-Real Pictures

I have been resisting taking pictures of myself since I became pregnant. I have never really liked having my picture taken, but living with a photographer I knew how to position myself and make the experience okay ... if you lean forward your face will look smaller, make sure it's my good side and make sure it's not too much "nose." These are all things I learned in my previous body, I knew how to avoid the "fat face."

My mom and other people have been asking if I'm taking pictures of myself ... the answer is no. I have not. However, at a wedding that I attended recently my mom happened to be the photographer. I don't know why I resisted so much, I should have known if anyone was going to take a good picture of me, it would be my mom. She's very talented.

Sweaty Laptop Inferno

Summer school started last night ... it wasn't going to be bad. I thought it would just be something to make the summer go by faster and the faster the summer goes by, the sooner I get to meet BHR. Also, summer school would be another safe haven to get out of the heat, sit in some air conditioning and pretend to learn stuff ...

It was awful! AWFUL! The classroom was packed. Probably 100+ students piled into the classroom, almost all had laptops ... laptops generate heat. It felt a little like first year. I didn't recognize a lot of the people, it was loud, I didn't know what to expect and I was uncomfortable. On top of it all ... the air conditioning was OUT! NO AIR CONDITIONING!

My back hurt, but that wasn't the worst part ... I was dripping with sweat and I couldn't pay attention. I was getting angry and irritated. I have never really liked law school to begin with, but this sealed the deal. I have tried to patient, I tried to be zen and find my inner chi, but law school keeps fighting me.

I was actually looking forward to the class last night and I think that may have been the problem ... I let law school get in my dome, get in my head if you will. Law school should never be trusted no matter how cool the professor is or how many of my friends are in the class, it is always awful and should be resisted and fought at all costs. Otherwise you will end up sitting in the fiery inferno of sweaty laptop stress and that's what happened to me last night!

Let's hope the AC is fixed tonight, or me and law school are going to have some serious words ... I'm not sure what it will accomplish, but the last plan didn't work either, so it's on to plan B.

Speed and thin thighs ...

This morning Gary and I set out for a short walk around the park. Our training group can't make it this week so Gary and I are on our own. It was a beautiful morning and I left the headphones at home.

Gary had so much fun, smiling the whole way. He would walk ahead and then come back by my side and look up at me, as if he was making sure I was enjoying myself as much as he was. While he was looking up at me, I was thinking "How did he get like this?"

Is it because of Greg and I? Does he get his weird quirks from me or from Greg? Will BHR pick up my weird quirks? Maybe he won't like his food to touch, or he'll have to eat everything in small pieces and in sections like me. Maybe he'll rub his feet together while he sleeps like Greggie.

I know that BHR and Gary are different. I didn't create Gary out of my own flesh and blood, but I know he picks up on things...I wonder why he likes to hold his stuffed animals, also known as his babies, while we all sit and watch tv? He doesn't rip the fluff out, he just lays there, gently holding them between his paws and his mouth. Is he protecting them?

I hope I don't make BHR as strange as I am, but I hope he's unique. I know he'll be special, because he'll be mine and Greg's and that's special to me, but I hope he's his own. Of course I don't want him to be completely without my traits, because I think it's neat to think about where I get my characteristics ... like my mom's laugh or her strength or the way that sprint and my dad's style and artistic vision ... It can't all be genetic, because I'm a lot like Ed too and we're not blood - related.

If I were to disect myself, what would I find? Obviously there would be blood and organs and stuff, but I mean, where did I get my aversion to artificially flavored strawberry food? I like thinking that I'm part of the people that have touched me and made me who I am. I hope I can pass along the good to BHR and avoid the bad.

Maybe BHR will get Greg's patience and creativity? But what I'm really hoping for is that he gets my speed with Greg's thighs:) Keep your fingers crossed ...

Size

BHR now measures about 13 1/2 inches and weighs about as much as an average rutabaga which is apparently about a pound and a half.

I think he could be a bit bigger than that after the lunch that I just had, but I guess we'll have to wait and see.

Loose-meat sandwiches

This morning I was walking to a coffee shop around the corner from my office. (I work on 9th and K Street and the coffee shop is the where the old Levinson's Bookshop was on 10th.) I love where my office is and I love walking to this coffee shop ... it reminds me of my dad.

My dad's gallery was on 10th street between J and K streets. In fact, the building hasn't changed, the space hasn't really changed. Bud's Buffet is still downstairs and in the morning it smells like what I imagine a loose-meat sandwich smells like.

I remember spending every other weekend at the gallery with my dad and my brother. 1020 10th street. Once a month we would get to watch my dad in action as he carried his mug and shmoozed with the art-crowd during second-saturday. I felt special. I would get to stand next to him and watch him work his magic. I liked introducing myself to people and having them recognize as me as his daughter. It made me feel important. I felt like he was important.

Lucas and I would spend the day looking at art. I would bug him and answer phones. We would get to walk very "carefully" around the corner down K street to Comics and Comix and Lucas would read comic books and I would eat the gum out of baseball card packs. K street smelled and there were only 3 stores that I remembered; Comics and Comix, Togos and Taco Bell. I'm sure there were more, but I think I was only allowed to go in those three.

I miss my dad. I wonder what he would think about me right now? I'm sure he'd be proud, I'm sure he'd be excited to be a grandpa, but that's not really enough ...

In the 6th grade we did an "Egg Baby" project. I had to care for an egg for a certain period of time and I remember taking my egg to my dad's for the weekend. We took pictures of the egg all over. The exhibit at the gallery happened to be by Jim Adan and it was tall, wooden sculptures; eggs on top of pillars. I put my egg in the middle of the giant sculptures and took pictures for my "baby book." Later, were taking polaroid pictures of the egg in my dad's sunglasses and having fun. My dad had very cool sunglasses. We were at Carrows restaurant. All of sudden my dad slipped and the egg dropped and yolk spread across the table. I was upset, my dad was upset...

He felt awful, probably worse than me. The next day, at the gallery, he wrote a very professional letter, typed it in on a typewriter in fact. I remember the stationary, the "Michael Himovitz Gallery" stationary, it was a thick white paper with grey lettering in the corner. It felt important. I handed it to my teacher. I don't remember if I explained what happened or if I watched the teacher read it, but everything was okay.

My Egg Baby made it all the way to the finals for the Egg-O-lympics. We lost in the final round of the Egg Toss. And I got an A, or maybe it was an A-, but in my mind I think I'm going to stick with the solid A.

I miss my dad and I think he would get a kick out of my belly and watching me raise a little person. I love working near the gallery and thinking about it as a place filled with possibilities and underneath, smelling like loose-meat sandwiches.

History Lessons

I was looking at stamps online (I subscribe to a daily news letter that sends me stuff everyday, it's not a stamp news letter, but one of the things they sent was about fun stamps to adorn your summer postcards ... anyway). I was clicking around, thinking about what kind of stamps I could put on my baby announcements and there it was, a stamp of Kelsey Grammar!

I thought "Gee, that's really nice of the USPS to recognize Kelsey Grammar for all of his hard work in acting on Cheers and Frasier. It's so sad that his new show got canceled and he had a heart attack in Hawaii." Then, I realized, "That's not Kelsey Grammar, it's Gerald Ford."

Oops! Let's hope BHR does not get mommy's sense of history, otherwise, we're all going to have problems!

http://shop.usps.com/webapp/wcs/stores/servlet/ProductCategoryDisplay?beginIndex=0&pageSize=10000&langId=-1&storeId=10001&catalogId=10152&categoryId=11834

Here's the link, see if you think the same thing ...

Carbo-loading

I never really believed that much in carbo-loading ... or I should say, it's not that I didn't believe in it, but I mostly participated in it when it was convenient. So, basically when I wanted to over eat carbs. I could say "I'm carbo-loading, I have a big race" or "I have a tournament and I need to make sure I have energy." Really, what I meant was "Mmmm, pizza ... mmmmm, pasta ... mmmm, bread."

Why are carbs so tasty? Why do I only want to eat carbs right now? I'm not running or playing soccer. I am walking a lot and swimming some, but not enough to need the carbs.

I have been viewing my pregnancy as a marathon ... but not just the race, the training as well. Maybe pregnancy is the training and labor is the race? Who knows. Either way, I'm carbo-loading so that I can be ready for the big day.

Oh pizza, pasta and bread, why must you be so tasty? Why must you tempt me so? Why do you never fill me up and allow me to eat all of your fluffy goodness at such a rapid rate?

I'm trying not to be too hard on myself and to allow myself to eat the things that make me happy and make me feel good ...it's fun to eat and then feel BHR bounce around and knock on the inside of my belly. Sometimes I think he knocks harder than others, I pretend its him critiquing my food choices. If that's the case, I think BHR wants me to keep carbo-loading ... I want him to be happy, so carbs I shall eat.

Corn

BHR is now almost a foot long! The length of an ear of corn ... again, hard to picture BHR as a veggie, but he's going to start filling out and then perhaps we'll go back to round fruit.



I'll keep you all posted!

Oranges in Bed

Last night Greg and I ate mexican food and then watched TV on the couch together. BHR must have really liked the mexican food because he was bouncing around a lot. Greg and I sat and watched my tummy bounce in and out. It made me laugh each time and we both sort of sat and looked in awe as my stomach moved in and out ... it's weird to think that there's a person in there. Maybe he's pretending to kick a soccer ball or maybe he's trying to play with Greg and I and wants to chit chat about the day.

I woke up around 3:00 this morning, I just couldn't get comfortable. I read one of my pregnancy books and I rested it on my tummy while I held the flashlight. Every few seconds the book would bounce up and BHR was awake. Maybe he wanted me to read to him or maybe he just wanted to play with me.

When I was younger I used to sleep in my mom's bed and she would wake me up in the middle of the night and say "play with me, I'm bored" and I would wake up eventually and she would then say "If you go and get me an orange I'll peel it." So I would go downstairs, get two oranges and some paper towels and we would sit in bed and eat oranges. It may not sound that interesting or entertaining, but I have fond memories of eating oranges with my mom and giggling together in the middle of the night.

I wonder what BHR and I will do? If we'll have a "thing" 0r if we'll sit up and giggle and laugh? I'm not as light of a sleeper as my mom, so maybe I won't wake him up in the middle of the night to eat oranges, but maybe we'll do something else and we can create our "oranges in bed" experience.