Monday, June 29, 2015

And Then We Made a Tiny Human...

...and she was born last Thursday to the two happiest parents in the world. Three weeks early and pretty much the best thing that we've ever experienced so far. I mean, it's Day Four, but I think we'll keep her.

So please stick it out with me until I figure out this parenting a tiny human thing and I'll be back eventually with lots of stories. Holy hell there are stories.

Welcome to this crazy world, Rauri! You've already made it exponentially better.

Thursday, June 18, 2015

Friday Wrapup

Let's get to it!


This week's book (thanks, dad!) is "A Spy Among Friends" by Ben Macintyre. Sounds like a book CB would like so I'm adding it to the list of birthday gifts I can't forget to get him since we'll have a newborn and I'll be sleepy by then. Click here to check it out and peruse around for other reading inspiration!


Don't forget that this Sunday is Father's Day! And this was appropriate, selfishly, for us this year since CB is technically already a dad to a baby still on the inside. Plus, these women were much sweeter about the ways in which they told their partners that they were going to be a dad. I said "Um" and CB turned around from looking in the refrigerator and stared at the pregnancy test that said "pregnant" on it for about a minute before speaking and then I said "Ok, I have to go take another one just to be sure!" and ran back into the bathroom like a crazy person.

I'm a delight. Also, CB was incredibly sweet about it and could not have been more excited or happy (or in shock). And this commercial makes me cry because HORMONES. I can't help it.


And now, the Video of the Week. I just like this song and hope you guys enjoy it, too! Happy Friday, Happy Father's Day to all you dads (especially my own), and enjoy your weekend! See you next week!

Conversations from Cohabitation...and an update

Hi all, just wanted to let you know that it's been quite a roller coaster week - baby is fine, we are fine, but we did spend two nights in the hospital wondering if we'd be parents a week or two early! And yes....I'll tell you the story on an upcoming blog next week! (assuming, you know, that I don't go into labor or something before then). What a ride with this sassy baby!

Thanks for all of your notes, sorry for the erratic posts as of late - might be the case for the upcoming few weeks with baby coming but I'll do my best to keep you updated and share some fun stories in between!'s something to hold you over until tomorrow's Friday Wrapup:

Um, so I don't know if you guys heard about Mary Lee - the 3,456 pound shark that has been hanging out near the Jersey Shore or not, but she terrifies me and should terrify everyone. Except, apparently, my husband. (also, for those of you who don't know, this is Matt Harvey, the dreamy pitcher from the Mets).

Me: "I can't even believe you think I'd ever go back into the ocean with Mary Lee swimming around."
CB: "Becky, she's not that close to shore."
Me: "She was spotted 10 miles off the shore!"
CB: "Do you know how far 10 miles is?"
Me: "We were probably close to 10 miles out when you and Matt made me go into the waves last year."
CB: "We need to work on your distance skills. We were about 10-15 feet from the shore."
Me: "Whatever, I have realistic fear boundaries."
CB: "There is nothing realistic about your shark fears."
Me: "Last year you kept telling me to 'swim into the wave' and I'm lucky that I didn't swim right into Mary Lee's mouth!"
CB, laughing: "Beck, the likelihood of you swimming into a shark's mouth is as likely as you getting struck by lightning while making out with Matt Harvey."
Me: "Um, for some reason it sounds like you're saying that's unlikely. I mean, getting struck by lightning, sure. But making out with Matt Harvey could totally happen."
CB: "Yep, totally. Just like you being eaten by a shark while 10 feet off the shore. Same odds."
Me: "I don't like your doubting tone. I'm a catch."
CB: "Yep, a 9 month's pregnant, 37-year-old catch for a 26-year-old stud pitcher in NYC."
Me: "I'm glad we're on the same page."

Happy Thursday!

Friday, June 12, 2015

Friday Wrapup

Let's get to it!


Thanks for all the kind words from Wednesday's post! You guys are the best.

This week's book is one I had to convince my dad to blog about because he thinks that "nobody cares about this stuff." Um, untrue, for one, and two, I personally know that you guys pick up books that we post about on a regular basis, telling me that there's an eclectic bunch of readers out there waiting for the next review! it is! Click here and check out "The Swerve: How the World Became Modern."


We've got a trend going on featuring sassy girls dancing and making my day. This one has some SOUL. I can only hope that if we have a daughter, she'll have this kind of spirit! (thanks for sharing, mom!)


And now, the Video of the Week. I cannot get this song out of my head and it seems like the perfect way to start your Friday and head into the weekend. Enjoy and I'll talk to you Monday!

Wednesday, June 10, 2015

Livin' the Dream

So I’ve obviously been MIA and it’s basically because I’m a creature of habit. And the moment my habits are altered in any way, I pretty much just take a nap and call it a day. Which is a fortunate character trait for my current state of being since I’m basically supposed to be laying still for the next four weeks until a baby comes out of my body.

You see, a few weeks ago I headed in for my regular OB checkup, which at this stage in the game, is a weekly occurrence. I walked in during my lunch break from work, sat down, got my blood pressure taken, hung out, and then found my concerned doctor rushing into the room to comment on my “swollen face and extremely high blood pressure” and immediately ushering me off to labor and delivery.

Which, as you can imagine, did wonders to lower my blood pressure and raise my fragile self-esteem that had me feeling like a bloated buffalo.

And so I casually strolled over to labor and delivery, texted CB and was like “yeah, don’t worry, I’m sure they won’t make me have the baby today, they’re just being overly cautious.”

Cut to: one hour later when the head of labor and delivery was like “so, if this doesn’t get better we’re going to have to induce you.”

To which my response was to immediately looked for snacks in my bag because I’ve heard you can’t eat once labor begins and I HAVE PRIORITIES, PEOPLE.  

But the good news is that they were able to stabilize my bp (by making me lay still for three hours) and sent me home with strict instructions for bed-rest from hereon out – no more going into the office, no more working out, no more….moving. Basically. Until the end of this month when I’ll be full term and can then jumping jacks this kid out of me if I want to. (I mean, they didn’t say that, but I read between the lines.)

Anyway. That’s what I’ve been up to – working from my couch, taking my blood pressure all the time, making a fun little “emergency” trip back to labor and delivery at 9pm Sunday night because apparently being awake makes my blood pressure sky-rocket, and not blogging.

However, I’ll keep you guys posted and will have a Friday Wrapup for you so that we all have something to live for. There’s a new little girl dancing video that I’ve basically watched on repeat because that’s what you do when you’re on bed-rest/your world has become very small.

What have you guys been up to?

Happy Wednesday, everyone!

Friday, June 5, 2015

Friday Wrapup

Let's get to it!


First of all, thanks for sticking with me while I adjust to my new schedule and trying to keep this kid inside of me for a few more weeks! You guys are the best, most loyal readers and I appreciate it!


The book of the week is "Dead Wake" by Erik Larson. My dad has been doing the heavy lifting in the blogging world these days and I could not be more appreciative! Plus, he and my mom read more than any two humans I know, and so I'm glad he's sharing what he's been reading so that you guys can get some ideas, too! Click here to check out the book review and look around for other inspiration!


Um you guys? We totally saw our baby's face yesterday on a 3D ultrasound and it was basically the best. Warning: this parenting thing is going to turn me into an insufferable sap, I think, because I got all teary looking at a somewhat blurry, black and white baby face inside of my uterus. So, you know, this kid is screwed when it comes out and I won't stop smothering it with what I call love and he/she calls "I'll be in therapy until I'm 50 because my mom has boundary issues."

But you know who has no boundary issues? The person who wrote this book.

My baby shower was this past weekend and it was pretty much the best. My parents were in town, our friends and family came out, and it was basically an awesome day. Plus, we got a ton of books so we could stock BC's bookshelf!

Well, last night our friend Beth came over and was like "Wait, did you get 'I'll Love You Forever?' It'll creep you out." And we didn't unfortunately/fortunately. So she started telling us the story about how this mom ends up rocking her grown-a$$ son in his sleep like a creepy psycho.

Which is what I'm going to try not to do to my adorable, in-utero baby when he/she comes out. But no promises because apparently this parenting thing makes you an insane person? Or write/read really disturbing books to your kids.


YOU GUYS. Watch this video if you do nothing else today. My mom showed this to us while they were in town over the weekend and our whole family was in tears from laughter and pure joy over watching this little girl basically slay Zumba. She. Is. The Greatest.

When she claps in the air?  I cannot. I must watch it on repeat. You must, too.

So this is the Video of the Week! Because she's just too much to handle and you will be so happy this is how you spent your Friday. Enjoy!

Wednesday, June 3, 2015

Wait, what day is it? is Wednesday and I didn't blog! I'm the worst. And will be the worst tomorrow. But I'll be the best on Friday!

Ok, so this new schedule of mine will take some getting used to but I'll get there soon....

Thanks for your patience!

Monday, June 1, 2015

Good News and Bad News

The good news is, you'll be getting more regular blogs from me in the coming weeks! The bad news is that it's because I'm essentially under house arrest for the next few weeks until the baby comes.


Um duh, I'll blog about it Wednesday!

But stay tuned and thanks for your patience! CB has informed me that my "fans" don't like checking in and coming up empty! (Read: CB wants something to read on his lunch break.)

Talk to you Wednesday!

Wednesday, May 27, 2015

Wait...How Old Am I?

The best part of being pregnant is that I can blame this baby for EVERYTHING right now. Once he or she is out, I'm sure I'll find a way to continue to do so. But for the time being, it's quite helpful.

Especially because I think I've actually started to lose it, as evidenced by this text exchange from the other day with CB:

Happy Wednesday!

Wednesday, May 20, 2015

What I Learned by Stalking Rich People

So every day I walk by a bunch of galleries and high-end furniture stores on my way to work in NYC. I glance into the windows and wonder who actually shops there, since everything as far as the eye can see costs more than my month’s salary, I’m pretty sure. But it’s all so perfectly decorated and laid out that I gaze longingly, though I’m clearly not their target audience. I’m pretty sure these places are catering to a class of people who wouldn’t want to hang with me unless they were doing a charity outreach program to people who shop at Target and consider Pottery Barn “a little rich for my blood.”

But as I longingly peer into the lives of people much richer than I will ever dream of being, I also think to myself: Super Rich people are weird.

Because, as you’re about to see on the visual virtual tour of my walk to work every day, super rich people like some wacky stuff, you guys. I mean, this isn't a scientific study, I suppose, but I'm pretty sure the seven pictures I'm about to show you sum up ALL SUPER RICH PEOPLE. Because that's how science and opinions work.  

Let’s proceed: 

1. This terrifies me every day. It's the ad for an art exhibit about a block from my office and it makes me happy that my unborn baby can't see through my skin. 

The exhibit is called "Enchanted Space." However, this photo always gives me "Horrific Nightmares." 

What is happening here? I don't get art and I kind of don't care? I really, really, really hate art exhibits. Like, to the point that I think maybe there's something wrong with me. Because the last thing I ever in my life will ever want to do is go look at art - pretty much any kind. I mean, if you're my friend and you've done something artsy and I'm coming to support you? Cool. But I'm banking on free champagne and hor duerves to get me through the event, and we should both know that going in. 

Even "good" art, which I deem as anything not "modern" and/or made during the Baroque period. I'm pretty sure the last time I went to an art exhibit and spent any sort of real time there is when I was visiting a hot guy I was in love with who lived in Vienna and he thought it'd be "fun" to take me to a super-boring Viennese art exhibit. I woud've preferred just going to have coffee and looking at his face, but instead, we looked at a bunch of paintings of people who looked depressed sitting perfectly still and sometimes eating fruit.

I mean, I just don't get it, and I don't really care if I ever do. And stuff like this just confuses me instead of enchants me. I'm so uncouth! (also, I realize that you don't have to be rich to appreciate art. However, this art exhibit looks so fancy that I'm pretty sure you have to dress up to go inside. Sort of like those stores in Beverly Hills from "Pretty Woman" where she wasn't dressed well enough and so they wouldn't even serve her. I'm guessing it's the non-prostitute version of that.) 

2. This is the first of many random animals that rich people supposedly like to decorate their homes with. This, I think? is a cheetah. Or a house cat on steroids. Or some exotic rich cat found in the wild on safaris that I've never been on. 

It also looks like it's thinking of eating me and so I'm struggling to reason why you'd want this in your living room. 

Do super rich people like to be scared in their homes and/or while enjoying leisure time? Because between the art exhibit and this, I'm deducing that the answer is yes. 

I should have a PhD in sociology, you guys. 

3. It took me a minute to figure out what this was, but it's, duh, giant grapes on a table. 

Super Rich people love giant things! 

But seriously. Where do you put this? Is this, like, instead of flowers as your centerpiece? I'm guessing it goes on a table since the display has it on a table, but it just a grape display table? Because you can't really functionally use that table to, like, work from home or eat a snack. Right? 

And when you visit someone with giant fruit on their table, are you obliged to acknowledge it? Like "Hey, where did you get your giant gold grapes? I've wanted something to complement my enormous bowl of peaches for a while and just haven't quite been able to find the right accent piece." Oh, also, rich people say "accent piece," not sure if you knew that. 

4. Now, to be fair, I'm guessing a super rich person with taste wouldn't have ALL of these things in their home at the same time. Maybe, like, the giant grapes and the cheetah go in your primary home, and the horse heads and the snail (below) go to your lake house? Because that would be too many oversized animals/food products in one place, right? 

But this just creates more questions than answers for me. Is the snail a garden piece? Would you be foolish to have this in your foyer (pronounced "foyAY" if you're fancy) and your other friends would all talk about you behind your back after the cocktail party and be like "Wow, Elaine really has no eye for where that giant bronzed snail should go. How could she NOT know that it belongs in her atrium?" 

And AHHHHHH! Where do the three giant sheep go??? This is getting out of control!!!!

What if you can't afford all three? Is it just not done to have one sheep? Or two? Are they for counting at night? Are these bedroom sheep? I need answers about the giant sheep, you guys! Plus, do you have to buy the sheep pedestal that the one king sheep is on in the display? Do rich people just know these things?? This is so stressful!!!! 

5. And finally, if you're looking for a luxury condo to put all of your giant animals in, look no further than a place that apparently doesn't discriminate against 18th century people, 18th century people who don't wear tops, and the shockingly buff tattoo artist who kind of gives you the creeps because he lives in the garage behind the shop but also is sort of artsy and aloof in that way that college girls really like? They'll totally take all of those people! I really need to get a wig and/or more tattoos. It'll be my key to success. 

Or so I'm guessing based upon this very specific advertisement that just has the website for the condo building and pictures of these people on it. You must just know what to do if you're Super Rich and like to wear corsets while staring at your giant grapes and petting your massive flock of sheep. But I know for sure that they probably definitely like terrifying art exhibits

Is this what rich people in SoHo look like? I'm learning so much on my way to work, you guys! Thanks for taking the tour with me. 

Happy Wednesday! 

Monday, May 18, 2015

Friday Monday Wrapup

It's that time...only a few days late! Let's get to it.


First: Mama Bear is gettin' irritated, you guys. Poor CB has had to hear me rant (and apparently "yell more than you used to") about people on the subway not offering their seats to an eight(plus) months pregnant person more than they acknowledge and offer. I take the train 10 times per week. On average, I'm seated and/or offered a seat about 2-3 of those times.

I'm terrible at math and even I know that's really bad, you guys.

However, to the people who immediately get up and insist I take their seat? You're saints and heroes and my giant cankles thank you. For the 95% of you who pretend like you don't see me even though I totally saw you see me? YOU'VE BEEN WARNED.

Because step one for me is all of the (in-apartment) yelling I've done after a long day/week of commuting. Step two is me rehearsing in my head what I will say to people when I finally snap (insert: all last week and today). Step three is me snapping and the 5 o'clock news footage of a tired, potentially cry-y pregnant woman talking about manners and scolding strangers because she just can't take it anymore, you guys.

So, society: you've been warned. GET. UP.


On a lighter and way less scream-y note, the book of the week is here! "In a Sunburned Country" had me at the cover. Anything with a kangaroo on the front basically gets my vote. However, it also sounds, as the review boasts, like "a good summer read." And since we're heading up to Memorial Day, this is timely! Go Amos Family!

So click here to check it out and browse around for other inspiration!


You guys. I didn't watch the Billboard Awards because (a) I was probably sleeping and (b) I don't even know who half of these people are anymore because I've purposely aged myself out of listening to or being familiar with any music by someone named Waka Flocka Flame.

So instead, I'm going to highlight a band that popped up on my iPod this morning that immediately brought me back to a specific time and place in my life nearly 6 years ago. I was obsessed with Airborne Toxic Event and when this song came on I fell in love with them all over again. There's just something about music from your past that sucks you back in every time (I'm looking at you, "I Wanna Dance With Somebody"!)


Friday, May 15, 2015

Ahhhh! Happy Friday!

Having some internet/video posting issues today so I'll save the Friday wrap up - complete with a new book of the week - until Monday.

Happy Friday, enjoy your weekend!

Monday, May 11, 2015

I Might Join AARP for the Swag.

I got a letter in the mail the other day from AARP, inviting me to become a member. I kept staring at it, assuming I was misreading. But alas, I was not.

So I showed it to CB, who promptly had a field day with this information.

CB: “Look at the tote bag you’d get! That’s really nice, you should join!”
Me: “I’m not 50 or older!”
CB: “Maybe they’re just going by your average bedtime?”
Me: “I hate you.”
CB: “Plus, we might get discounts and stuff. You should really consider it.”

And then he started reading the letter out loud to me as I walked away to pretend I couldn’t hear his laughter. However, as he got to the last sentence, he started laughing so hard that I started laughing just by watching him laugh, even though I didn’t know what we were laughing about.

CB: “We have to frame this.”
Me: “I hate you.”
CB: “Listen to this last sentence…. ‘It can help you protect your health, your money, your family, your career-“

And then he took a long pause to wipe away laughter-tears:

CB: “-and make the most of life over 50.”

And then he had to sit forward to let the laughter out more, as he clutched the favorite piece of mail he’s never received in his hands.

I’ll begin speaking to him sometime this fall. 

You do have to admit, though, that's a pretty sweet bag. 

Friday, May 8, 2015

Friday Wrapup

Let's get to it!


This week's book is "The Road to Character" by David Brooks. I kind of dig David Brooks. I don't always agree with him (which I could say literally about everyone...except Beyonce), but oftentimes he makes me think and is so darned rational that I'm like "You know what? I think you're right!"

Which is why I'm glad that my dad blogged about this new book, though reading has been a challenge for me lately (laying down + doing anything but sleeping = not up my alley). I'm going to download this to my Kindle, though, and have it at the ready for when I finally keep my eyes open for longer than 10 minutes while stationary!

Click here and enjoy!


This Sunday is Mother's Day and while I've always loved and appreciated my mom, I think I'm just hitting the tip of the iceberg now that I'm about to be one myself. Holy crap, mom....thanks.

Also, a friend sent this to me yesterday and I've watched it, like, three times and just keep on laughing. Some of my favorite moments are "It’s nice to know that your body wants to destroy you" and "If anyone tries to f___ with me, how f___’ing dare you.”

Every single mother has gone through some form of this, though the getting out of bed and bending over the dishwasher are daily routines I've found myself dreading. Also, found out yesterday that Chubs McGee (that's my new name for our baby) is FOUR POUNDS already. Hence, my Fred Flinstone feet. Love you, Chubs!

Also also, CB and I both accidentally watched/read about birth stuff that happens the other day (mine was an accident, he was the big dummy that read about an episiotomy on purpose) and I've decided that I'll just carry my child on the inside for forever.



And now, the Video of the Week! This is one of my favorite The Streets songs so figured I'd share it! And then I couldn't remember if I'd posted it before. And then I didn't care and so I'm posting it anyway. Happy Friday, Happy Mother's Day Weekend, and see you Monday!

Wednesday, May 6, 2015

Someone has to have me as a mom.

So yesterday, my awesome co-workers threw me a surprise baby shower, complete with cake, balloons, and games. It was great, they’re all great, and I was so surprised that I immediately turned red and started sweating out of adrenaline/shock. It was a good time.

However, one of the games made me realize a few things. It was a baby animal game, duh, where you're given the names of the adult animals and then had to come up with the baby word for that animal.

Sounds easy for a grown up, right?

See below and then let’s focus in on a few things:

  • I literally wrote “baby” in front of a few adult animal names thinking maybe that was actually right. It was not. Also, NOBODY knows what a baby elephant is called. 
  • Everyone but me knew that horses and ponies were two different animals! WHO KNEW THAT? When did you learn it? How did I miss this? I was unsurprisingly, not embarrassed that this was happening in front of my boss and my boss’ boss. At one point, my director put his head in his hands when I mentioned that it’s a good thing I didn’t have to take this quiz in order to get my job. However, I did suggest that we start implementing it as a good way to filter out other dumb people like me so that we don’t hit a critical mass of people who think ponies are baby horses. 
  • Nobody knows what a baby raccoon is called. That’s just ridiculous.
  • Cheater’s tip: if you’re unsure, write “calf.” That was the answer to almost every one I didn’t know. Not “baby _______", FYI.
  • I high-fived my coworker when it was confirmed that a baby butterfly is a caterpillar. Because we had this actual, adult conversation (oh, and yes, we were conspiring because he didn't want to actually play, but is too competitive to not be involved): 
Me: "I'm pretty sure it's caterpillar....right?"
Him: "Maybe? I don't know, are all caterpillars baby butterflies?"
Me: "That's a question for the ages. I'm going with caterpillar." 
  • When writing down “gosling” for baby goose, I then told my director: “Not like Ryan Gosling, in case you were confused.” To which I think he was really impressed.
  • My friend and co-worker pointed out that I’m essentially a 5-year-old in a woman’s pregnant body because I put sad faces next to the answers I got wrong. 
Him: “What are you, in kindergarten? Who writes sad faces next to wrong answers?”
Me: “I do. Why, you don’t?”
Him: “No, I’m an adult.”
Me: “So what do you write?”
Him: “I don’t know, x’s?”
Me: “Wow. That’s boring.”

I’m going to be a mom to someone, you guys.

Happy Wednesday!

Monday, May 4, 2015

I've Become a Giant Marshmallow Man. Plus, CB totally loves life!

Good news: I’m done peeing into a jug.
Bad news: My hands and feet have disappeared and someone has replaced them with the Stay Puft Marshmallow Man’s extremities.

CB is really liking this stage of marriage and life, you guys. It’s fun for him to watch me transform before his eyes, get a running start at sitting upright, and fall asleep prior to 8pm. The upside is that he could literally be leading a much more exciting double-life that starts around 8:15 every night and I’d never know it.  

Also, his life now includes a fun new game called “Becky doesn’t know what she’s talking about but I end up doing a lot of work for nothing anyway.” It’s a working title, we’re open to suggestions.

Example 1:

On Friday, CB bought me gorgeous flowers because that’s how he rolls. So of course I broke our really nice fancy vase a few weeks ago because I’m me, but knew that we had another less-fancy vase somewhere in the apartment.

Me: “I think it’s above the refrigerator.”
CB: “Ok.”
Me, staring at him walking over to the table to eat the hot pizza that just got delivered.
CB, turning to see me staring: “What?”
Me: “Any chance you could get the vase now?”
CB: “Right now?”
Me: “Yes, because then we’ll start eating and watching the movie and then the flowers will just sit there slowly dying on the counter for hours otherwise.”
CB, grumbling about hot pizza while he walks over to the kitchen: “It’s above the refrigerator?”
Me: “I think so? I’m not really sure, but that’s my guess.”
CB, beginning to move all of the liquor bottles we have on top of the refrigerator to get to the cupboards: “Why is everything we ever need in these cupboards?”
Me: “You’re being dramatic. We barely ever use those cabinets.”
CB: “Yes, I’m the dramatic one. And I seem to remember doing this about two weeks ago looking for something that you then found in the linen closet.”
Me: “That sounds unlikely.”

Finally, he moves everything down off the fridge and opens the cupboards.

CB: “I don’t see a blue vase.”
Me: “Are you sure?”
CB: “I’m positive.”
Me, thinking.
Me: “Oh! I remember, I think it’s in the front closet!”

So I went over and opened the closet and there it was.

CB: “You do this just to mess with me, right?”
Me, laughing: “No, I swear I thought it was up there.”
CB: “Ok, but next time, let’s check the closets first, ok?”
Me: "Deal.”

Example 2:

Walking to the car the other day, CB had his hands full of bags as we had this conversation:

Me: “Oh, I think I gave you the car keys.”
CB: “Why would you give me the car keys, you’re driving?”
Me: “I know, but I don’t have pockets.”

So, CB puts all of the bags down and starts rifling through his pockets.

CB: “I don’t think I have the keys.”
Me: “You definitely have the keys.”
CB, searching.
Me, putting my hand in my pocket: “Oh! I have the keys. And pockets! My bad.”
CB: “How did you not know that you had pockets?”
Me: “I don’t really know, I guess I forgot what I was wearing. I think I was thinking about yesterday.”
CB, picking all of the bags back up: “I’m not even going to go down this road with you because I’ll just end up even more confused.”
Me: “Story of your life.”
CB: “You have no idea.”

Happy Monday! 

Friday, May 1, 2015

Friday Wrapup

Let's get to it!


Man, this kid loves dandelions. And it makes me laugh every time. Plus, his name is Buzz - that's kind of the best.


This week's book is "Bring Up the Bodies" by Hilary Mantel, which we posed about a few years ago. But for those of you PBS watchers, you may recognize her name as the author of "Wolf Hall," which is a series at the moment. So, we're timely! Or ahead of our time! Obviously.

So click here to check it out and then click around to some other book favorites - enjoy!


I want to be friends with Amy Schumer.


And now, the Video of the Week. Actually the video this week was going to be "Hero" by Enrique Iglesias for one sole reason: when I was in a coffee shop this morning on my way to work, it came on the radio and these three construction workers, taking a break and having a cup of coffee, started quietly singing along to it. I instantly smiled because the scene was just so....funny.

But instead, here's the new video from the Alabama Shakes. Happy Friday!

Wednesday, April 29, 2015

The Jug

There are a lot of moments in my life that I’m not proud of; or, I should say, lots of moments in my life that others react so shockingly to, that I pretend I’m equally as shocked and appalled at my behavior/misfortune/adventures. But usually, these moments don’t really faze me until someone is like “it’s not normal to consider it a ‘good travel day’ to take a train that caught on fire while you were on it to the airport, where you were then delayed for five hours.” And I’m like “It’s not? I was busy playing solitaire and dominating on my phone. I didn’t really notice.”

But there’s one relatively recent moment that got even me to admit that there are limits to what I’ll share with you guys.  And that’s gotta’ tell you something. I’ve told you a lot. CB cringes all the time. And yet, after this one occurrence, I was like “I cannot ever, ever blog about this.” Partially because I apparently had a certain level of respect for myself, and partially because people at work might read this and then THEY’LL KNOW.

Notice that I used the word “had” in that second-to-last sentence? Self-respect is fleeting, you guys.

So, it starts with a pee jug, as most good stories do, and it ends with two more pee jugs. Which makes sense if you’re in my life.

You see, for several years I had high blood pressure – mainly because my body likes to prepare me for what it’s like to be old because I’m so close to acting elderly as it is, that we figured we’d just go ahead and get there sooner. But also because it’s hereditary and I like salt and yadda yadda yadda. But, since I actually didn’t want to die at 45, about a year and a half ago I changed my diet and exercise routine a bit and was able to marvel modern medicine by coming totally off of blood pressure meds because I’m amazing.

But when I got pregnant (since I’d had a “history of chronic high blood pressure” and I’m geriatric) they started monitoring me pretty closely during the sassy baby development process. Basically to make sure I didn’t stroke out and/or make the baby too big or too small, is the long and short of it. I read between the lines.

And part of this monitoring process is a torture device in the form of a giant, brown pee jug.

Here’s what you do: you pee into the jug – AND ONLY THE JUG – for a 24 hour period. You put your dignity and self-esteem in a box, kick it down the hallway, and never think about those two useless traits again. You use a lot of bleach-based products, as well as hand soap and sanitizer, and pretend like this isn’t totally ruining any sex appeal you possessed when describing in detail later to your husband what you were experiencing, even though he really, really didn’t want to know.

And also, you bring the jug to work because the doctors hate you.

You see, they told me that I had to start the next day. And the next day was Wednesday, a day where most adult people work. And I was like “Wait, so I have to bring the jug to work?” and they were all breezy about it, like that wasn’t ridiculous and embarrassing. I mean, they gave me a plastic bag to keep it in after all. Why did I have to be such a diva about it?

And so, because I was taught not to question authority, I packed up the pee jug the next morning, held onto it as if this was normal on the train, and went to work to lead my life like a person not carrying a jug of pee.

Can we think about this a minute? Where does the pee jug go in between visits? How does one covertly bring a giant white plastic bag into the bathroom with them and then try to pretend like people can’t tell that you’re peeing into a big, hollow jug that makes big hollow peeing-into-it noises?


And so you use the private handicap-accessible bathroom so that you have some dignity and privacy, people.

What you also do is fast-forward a few hours to where you bring your pee jug back into the bathroom for a visit and realize that you may have not secured the lid tightly last time and so, yes, the bag is now holding some contents itself. Not in the jug.

And then you quit your job, change your name, and never speak to anyone who knew you pre-jug again.

OR you panic. You stare. You get hormone-tears in your eyes for what’s happening. And you immediately realize that you should always question authority, especially when they tell you to bring your pee jug to work.


I’m going to spare you the details and just skip ahead to the part where I throw the jug in a dumpster, sanitize everything I’ve ever owned or touched, and call the doctor’s office to consult.

Me: “So, I need a new pee container.”
Nurse: “You need a new container?”
Me: “Yes. Something happened to my other one.”
Nurse, sounding confused: “Ok…..”
Me: “I don’t want to gross you out, but basically I lost a morning’s-worth of pee and need to start again.”
Nurse, sighing into the phone: “Well ok……you’ll need to come back to the office to get another receptacle.”

RECEPTACLE! Much nicer word than pee jug. Noted.

Me: “Ok, no problem, I’ll come by at lunch.”

Fast forward to 2 hours later when the nurse met me in the waiting room with a new “receptacle” and brand new white plastic bag and gave me side-eyes while saying: “Now be careful with this one.”

Dear Judge-y Nurse,
You have no idea what I’ve gone through to collect my pee for you people. GIVE IT A REST. I’m building life and just trying to keep it together.

Oh, also, I did it over the weekend that time because they can suck it and I’ll never bring that thing to work with me ever again. It’s called dignity, people. I found it that day at the bottom of that white plastic bag.

However, I put this all behind me, didn’t blog or breathe a word of it (except to pretty much all of my friends), and acted like I was still the lady I’ve pretended to be for years.

UNTIL THIS WEEK. When the jug returned.

Me: “Noooo…..I have to do this again?”
Sympathetic doctor: “Yeah, I know it sucks, I’m sorry. But we just have to check your protein levels again. It’s the last time.”
Me: “Oh man, this thing haunts me.”
Doctor, laughing because she thought I was kidding.
Me: “I’m going to do it over the weekend, if that’s ok?”
Doctor: “Sure, that’s fine. Whatever you’re most comfortable with.”

SEE, Judge-y Nurse? THAT’S how you talk to a hormonal pregnant woman with a pee jug. TAKE NOTES.

Anyway, you’re welcome, blog readers. I’ve literally just shared the most embarrassing thing I’ve done since at least 2014. And that’s saying something. So feel good about yourselves and be grateful that you don’t actually know me in person.

You haunt my soul, pee jug. 

Happy Wednesday! 

Monday, April 27, 2015

And then CB wrote a love song.

So, last week CB and I pretty much sealed the deal on this marriage thing. I mean, it’s not like we were up in the air about it before then, but there were definitely more than a few moments over the course of one day, in particular, that we both looked at each other and were like “well, we’re in this thing now!” And maybe high-fived? Which is how you seal any sort of true love pact, if you didn’t know.

You see, last Sunday I woke up feeling so dizzy that I thought I was going to be sick. The room was spinning, I couldn’t open my eyes, and I basically laid in the fetal position on our bed for about an hour until it subsided enough for me to eat something (which is always my end-game). CB rolled over to see me gripping my forehead in pain and said “You ok?”

Me: “No. I really don’t feel good.”


Me, about 30 seconds later: “Um, when I say I don’t feel good, you need to respond.”
CB, sitting up: “I was thinking about it.”

Which is when he became lucky that the room was spinning so I couldn’t locate his torso and slug him. (this is not the love part.)

But then he sprang into action, getting a cold compress for my forehead, bringing me water and a granola bar (I thought maybe I was dehydrated and/or had low blood sugar) and generally being sympathetic to my pain. Which, if we’re being honest here, is all I wanted anyhow.

Eventually, though, the spinning subsided enough for me to sit up, actually eat a proper breakfast, and even watch a little tv before deciding I just wanted to go lay down and read (note to self: when you’re feeling spinny, DON’T READ, dummy.)

Fast forward to about 15 minutes later when the room started violently spinning again so much that I was sure this was not getting better (I should really have gone to med school). So I called to CB in the other room.

Me: “CB…..”


Me, a little louder: “CB…..”


Me, louder and hating him: “CB!!!”

And then he came into the room. (this is still not the love part)

CB: “Yeah?”
Me: “I’m going to be sick. Can you get me a bucket? I can’t sit up.”

And then, though my eyes were closed, I could tell that CB went into panic mode and began running, knowing that my willpower to keep from vomiting on our bed and/or floor was not quite as strong as his desire to really make sure that it didn’t happen. So within a few seconds – and a lot of banging around out in the living room and kitchen - he returned with our recycling bin and a plastic bag. Ingenius.

So I’ll skip the part where I may have missed the bag a bit or that I think all of my insides came outside at that moment while CB held the bucket (we’re circling in on the love part), and will just fast-forward to about 10 minutes later when I was finishing up a call to my OB. She insisted that it was time to head to labor and delivery and make sure baby and me were vomiting and spinning for reasons outside of baby problems. And so I slowly started to get up, with CB’s help (who was still holding the Lysol can he’d been spraying throughout the entire apartment), and we made our way into the city to get checked out.

Three hours, several tests, and an adorable ultrasound later, we were on our way back home with a referral to a neurologist because nothing was wrong with baby, and OB people just do baby stuff. (I’m paraphrasing.) I was still dizzy, but feeling good enough to sing along to the radio, and the Survivor song “The Search is Over” came on.

Don’t pretend like you don’t know that song, you guys. It’s a classic.

So I started singing along and said “It's sort of like the story of us!” 

To which CB responded:

CB: “Yeah, except they left out the last verse.”
Me: “What’s the last verse?”
CB: “Where they get married and he’s cleaning up her puke. Why doesn’t someone write a song about wiping puke out of the wastebasket? Now that’s a love song.”

To which I laughed until there were tears in my eyes, high-fived him in agreement, and realized that we’d pretty much honed in on the love part of this story. Granted, our love part includes puke, but what good romance doesn’t?  

Of course, apparently our love part also includes a week of CB sleeping on an air mattress in the living room so that there was no movement in our bed to make me spinny and pukey again. But if we’re being honest, I think that was a two-fold decision by CB: I have a shot at sleeping and he can sleep on his back and snore without being kicked.

I think we should definitely write a new love song.

Happy Monday!  

Friday, April 24, 2015

Friday Wrapup

Let's get to it!


You guys. I haven't even watched "Grey's Anatomy" from last night and I already know what happens. Thanks a lot, all news outlets.

Also, we should re-examine what we consider "news"......


This week's book is appropriate since all I can think about these days is the fact that a human being is currently living inside of me and will, in about 10-11 weeks, come out.

Which is cool and terrifying and makes me cross my legs, which I think is how you keep it from happening in the first place? Live and learn.

Anyway, it's called "Birth: The Surprising History of How We Are Born" and I just downloaded it onto my Kindle, even though my sister blogged about it several years ago. I'M A LATE ADOPTER, you guys.

Click here to check it out and browse around for some other great books out there!


Speaking of pregnancy and babies, CB and I have had quite a ride over these last seven months. This baby is SERIOUSLY sassy and has caused us to grow closer in ways CB was really hoping we never would. Stay tuned on Monday for the story that kept me from blogging this week! Oh the excitement.


And now, the Video of the Week.

Um, I'm an emotional wreck today, you guys. I, of course, blame the baby. IT'S SO EASY and makes me virtually blameless for pretty much everything. I highly recommend it.

I started full-on CRYING at my desk while listening to a song this morning that isn't even sad! And so I'm very fragile when listening to Pandora these days. You've been warned, people who sit near me.

However, I heard this song on the radio a few days ago while CB and I were driving through the city and it turns out that they're a local band that I am now seriously digging. So, hopefully you guys enjoy them, too!

Happy Friday!