Scientific breakthrough

Because Google has replaced the left side of my brain, I know that peroxide is an example of an “unstable chemical.” I am here to expose to the world the previously unknown unstable characteristics of a well-known chemical identified by its household name of “Fiber.” The scientific process of examination I undertook is unconventional. I call it “using too much of something.” I applied this process during my scientific examination of how eating ginger will affect the symptoms of nausea. In the course of a single day I consumed ginger tea, ginger hard candy, candied ginger, and yes, gingerbread. After this experiment, the result was that the smell of ginger actually induced nausea, which was a scientific breakthrough that will be fully discussed in the Spring, 2007, New England Journal of Medicine. After this successful and illuminating experiment I turned my focus to a widely regarded remedy for constipation known as “Fiber." In the course of a day, I consumed a serving of high fiber cereal, an apple, a bowl of vegetable soup, a bran muffin, and a salad. The unstable nature of this chemical was subsequently revealed and can only be described as, “explosive.” Suffice it to say that I had to take a half day off of my regular job to fully document the results which will be discussed in the Fall, 2007 issue of Viz.

A Bucklegram

Similar to a Labradoodle, a Dalmador, or a Schnoodle, Betty will be a genetic cross-breed of Buckley and Graham characteristics and features. B and I agree that with our genetic codes there will be no escaping curly hair and big noses, but further than that we’ll have to wait and see. We think there is a high probability for nerd tendencies because I have been known to carry that banner and B has a wide geek streak that comes out during star trek episodes, discussions of cloud formations, and anything outer-space related. The play-well-with-others characteristic is a total roll of the dice because B and I couldn’t be further apart on that spectrum: he genuinely likes people whereas I like to be far far away from most people. Athletically, it would be for the best if she took after her Buckley side, but no matter what B says, she’ll do best to utilize her Graham side during board and card games. Either way, people will like her more if she falls in the Buckley category for her competitive nature as mine tends to exhibit itself in accusatory challenges, the phrase, “that’s bullsh*t,” and downright cheating. Physically, for her sake, I hope she takes after me in the foot department, and takes after B in the calf department, but either way her booty is going to be smoking.

Kick it!

A couple years ago B and I went to a Pixies concert in Philadelphia and met the cutest button of a girl from North Carolina while we were having pre-show cocktails on the veranda of the venue… What I actually mean when I say cocktails is beer sold in a plastic representation of a guitar and when I say veranda I mean the designated smoking area to which we retired in 10-degree weather. What. Anyway, we met her after B used the empty plasitc guitar to rip a killer air guitar solo and the primary thing I remember about her besides the fact that she was like five feet tall in platform shoes is that she showed her enthusiasm with, I kid you not, “high-kicks.” That’s what she called it, anyway, “high-kicks.” So she would say something like “I am so psyched to see the F-ing Pixies!” and then kick her leg really high. And she would wind up for it by starting out with her leg behind her so that she could achieve maximum height and velocity. It ranks as one of the funniest things I have ever seen (below B’s impression of an Olympic track runner but only just). Anyway, I have been picturing Betty like this girl because she has been hauling off with the kicks lately and it is a nice image for me. Like when I eat something delicious she shows her appreciation with high-kicks… Thanks Betty! I liked it too! Or when I sit at my desk, talk on the phone, try to go to sleep…whatever! She’s totally into it! Betty’s great.

Betty wont play that

I count myself as lucky that I married a man who cares nothing for products and fashion. He’s a very handsome t-shirt and jeans guy who rocks button-ups for holidays and dates. The up-side to having a down-home guy’s guy for a husband is that I get to be the flashy one with questionable taste. i.e., I can buy jeans with gold embroidery because there is absolutely no danger that B will do the same. The only down-side is B’s unfortunate habit of wearing white tube socks and black leather slip on shoes with shorts, which I have let him know on several occasions is almost the same thing as screaming “I hate you” at the world. You could say it is somewhat of an “issue” with us. But lately I have become more zen about his unfortunate choices below the knee. Why? Because ever since we got the news from the ultrasound technician that the baby was probably not a boy, I’ve known that I will no longer have to bear this burden alone. I rest easier because I know for a cold hard fact that any daughter ever will cut a Daddy down before allowing him to even drive her to school without looking correct. He really has no idea - I almost feel sorry for him.

Project Destroy-my-faith-in-humanity-way

I’ve often heard people who do not want kids mention that the world we live in is too messed up to bring another human being into it. I’ve never subscribed to that particular reason for not having children because I always had all the reason I needed in my empty refrigerator and bank account balance. But last night I saw the light in this argument after an exceptionally disappointing episode of Project Runway. For those who do not follow this paragon of reality television, a female fashion designer was kicked off the show for designing a dress that made her model, possibly a size 2, look “fat.” One of the judges, also a female and obvious dues-paying member of the girl-on-girl crime club, said something like, ‘we can’t believe that as a female designer you would design something so unflattering for a woman.’ This was upsetting because the designer was adorable and had cute designs, but also because the guy who did not get kicked off had designed something that was so tight on his model that she literally couldn’t walk and the judges gave him credit for it because it made his model look taller and slimmer. Since even Cher can’t turn back time, I’m having a baby, and she will be exposed to this madness whether I like it or not. And it suddenly became terrifying to me that somehow I will need to explain to Betty a) crazy body image issues, b) sexism from males and females, and most difficult of all, c) why Mommy still watches Project Runway.

Why Betty will be a genius

This weekend I was the beneficiary of a divine and miraculous connection that was similar in nature to the big bang. Apparently there is a product on the market for lactose intolerance called Lactaid, which allows the intolerant among us to eat dairy without any of the unpleasantness that is normally associated with the experience. Simultaneous to this discovery was an entry in my normally punitive pregnancy week by week guide for this week that suggests eating more fat to encourage brain development. I’d explain more, but it has been thirty minutes from when I ate a frozen yogurt so I feel Betty's intelligence would be better served if I spent my time in pursuit of an extra-cheese pizza for lunch.

Betty's first picture

Here is a shot from our ultrasound two days ago.
The technician said she is pretty sure the baby is a girl.

Completely Reasonable

Although I can’t claim to be a textbook case of how to behave during pregnancy, I make up for some of my weaknesses with a remarkable aptitude for rationalizing my behavior. Yesterday I was horrified to realize that throughout the course of the day I had eaten ¾ of a pound of hamburger. I did the math when I was in bed last night thinking how virtuous I had been for eating a bag of baby carrots and an apple, when it occurred to me that I had tacos for lunch… and the rest of the leftover tacos for dinner. I have not had a hamburger since I got pregnant because meat hasn’t really been very appealing –especially if I can’t smother it in cheese – but the old el paso sang a siren song to me yesterday and I made up for lost time. The fact is my gringo heart will always belong to the hard shell and ground beef that cannot be found on any authentic Mexican menu, which is funny because I am actually taking a trip to Mexico next week... Anyway, this thought process led me to the conclusion that I am subconsciously engaging in a cultural assimilation, which would absolutely excuse the amount of hamburger I ate yesterday and then some. And this explanation allowed me to fall asleep guilt/worry free, which rationalizes my rationalization, thank you very much.