Defenses Against the Dark Arts

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I’m not saying that since moving to our new apartment we’ve actually been infested with cockroaches, and I’m not saying that now and again seeing the rogue roach crawling to its lonesome death in your living space is the worst thing that could happen to a person.

What I am saying is that stepping barefoot, in the dark, on a roach and feeling its insides squishing out against your naked sole flesh might be the worst thing that could happen to somebody — it’s got to be, right? — and that only narrowly escaping this experience even once is enough to change the way you think about walking around barefoot at night. And narrowly escaping it more than twice is enough to make you take regular precautionary measures for your midnight hangouts with your tiny baby:

1. Always wear footwear if you remember where you last left it.
2. When sitting, keep your feet off the ground.
3. Most importantly, before taking any steps on the ground, be sure to employ the flashlight on your phone to scare away any monsters that might be hiding under your feet.

I call it all — especially the flashlight part — my defense against the dark arts. It’s almost as good as a wand.

(As a side note: I would take a lone cockroach sighting every few weeks over even one scorpion encounter, so color me grateful here. Living in the desert. Who needs it?)

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Caution: Extreme Cuteness to Follow

It’s a pretty sure sign you’ve let your blog go to ruin when you check it and the only activity that’s happened since the last time you were on is months’ worth of spam comments promising you in really bad English that they know all the things for getting more followers. Turns out being a parent is kind of life-consuming. Who knew?

This is what our life’s been focused on for the last several months:

Day One

Day One

Heading Home From the Hospital

Heading Home From the Hospital

One Week Old

One Week Old

Two Weeks Old

Two Weeks Old

One Month Old

One Month Old

Two Months Old

Two Months Old

Three Months Old

Three Months Old

Four Months Old

Four Months Old

To show the whole outfit.

To show the whole outfit.

Five Months Old

Five Months Old

It’s kind of weird to see what has felt like ages summed up in just a few photographs, but there it is. As The Bitty and Jordan and I continue to get the hang of this thing called real life, maybe I’ll also figure out how to include blogging in the mix more often.

The Public Life of a Pregnant Woman

It’s been a long time since I’ve blogged. I blame it on the fact that I have been pregnant, and that so far for me the word “pregnant” has been synonymous with feeling miserably ill. The fact that I am pregnant, of course, is not miserable. That is very exciting and exactly what Jordan and I wanted. I just wasn’t expecting the sickness part of pregnancy to feel quite so, well, sick.

This is our baby's adorable little butt and legs. I just about die over this every time.

This is our baby’s adorable little butt and legs. I just about die over this every time.

I’ve had a few better days lately. Better enough to allow for real reading and, most importantly, writing. I thought it would be nice to check in on my blog.

Being pregnant has been both fascinating and odd for me. I guess I’m used to keeping most things about my body fairly private, but pregnancy makes your body suddenly very public. The expansion of your stomach, the pallor of your face when you’re fighting off nausea, the involuntary teenage-boy-worthy belches. It’s all there for everyone to notice, and to comment on.┬áIt can be freeing, actually, but it can also lead to some pretty weird moments.

I’m just barely into my 2nd trimester, so I’m guessing I’ll have many more interesting encounters to pull from as the months go on, but here are just a few of the quirks–both good and weird–I’ve noticed about the “public life” of a pregnant woman:

  1. There’s something about you being in the process of bringing a new life into the world that makes even strangers genuinely–sometimes giddily–happy for you.
  2. Before you even start announcing your pregnancy there will be women who have been pregnant themselves who will pick up on the signs and will find you out.
  3. Some people–and nice people too–have no qualms about openly pooh-poohing how sick you are feeling because it is “just pregnancy,” or “you should just be grateful to be pregnant,” or maybe their own pregnancies were not as hard.
  4. When you meet another woman who is or has been genuinely ill during their pregnancy, it’s like having an immediate best friend. Like you’re both part of a club of commiseration and caring.
  5. A lot of people will joke that the pregnancy is “the man’s fault,” which has been weird for me because, at least in our situation, I clearly remember both of us having pretty much an equal share in the process.
  6. Lastly for today, but not leastly–and maybe this is just my experience because I’ve been lucky enough to surround myself with some pretty wonderful people–friends and family really come out of the woodwork to be supportive and helpful. At those moments when my cheerfulness has faded and I’ve just been exhausted and sick and crying, there’s almost always been someone that has reached out to me without even knowing I needed it just then. And so many people have offered their help that I know I’ve always got someone I can turn to.

Overall, I feel pretty grateful to be able to experience this part of life, even though some days I can’t help balking at just how many more months of this pregnancy thing I’ve got to go through before our real reward comes. But come it will, and I’m so excited.

Modeling my first pair of maternity pants and my even more obvious now pregnant pooch.

Christmas Day, modeling my first pair of maternity pants and my (much-more-obvious-now) pregnant pooch.