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.