With Friends like These...

I think at least half the women in the world who have tried to conceive have fallen into the obsessive rabbit hole of Fertil*ty Fr*end. This time I swore it would be different. No more obsessive message board reading and posting: Look at my chart look at my chart! I haven't ovulated yet, but do you think I might be pregnant? Try and decipher the crazy TTC anagrams: DH and I Bd'd right before I O'd. I hate the TWW, my LP is so long anyway! I want to POAS but fear a BFN. So annoying, along with flashing "Army Wife" "Trying for a Boy" and "I love my Furbabies" blinkies.

Well this time it is different. I spend all my time comparing my current chart the one from when I got knocked up with Bebe Lulu. Because that is so much more productive. (HA!)

One week til vacation. I can not wait. In the meantime, my mom is visiting and is currently engaged in a kinder, gentler, Grandma version the bed time struggle. I just heard her tell Bebe Lulu : "You can't lick the floor, you're not momo!" (Momo the dog LOVES to lick the carpet.

The Last 8 of my Recent Fifteen

This is the best story yet. It is so rare that we get to really talk about the issues, as opposed to just giving soundbites. The reporter was with us for 45 minutes. And he could have picked anything we said and we would have been just as brilliant. Too bad the world gets to hear me wrestle with the world "disambiguous."

Milestones

Bebe Lulu has now passed these important milestones:

First movie, being Horton Hear a Who, on the implied recommendation of Becca. And no, we did not think it was an anti-choice parable.

First time eating two dinners in one night. If the key to good eating is dinner at 5:30, we are truly screwed, since dinner at 6:15 would not have been enough.

First cry-it-out session since 2006. No obvious long lasting ill effects, and mom and dad got to relax together for more than an hour.

First denial of fable that everyone else at day care will be exclaiming over tomorrow, with my refusal to prepare an Easter basket. Thank goodness Grams sent a few gifts, otherwise she might grow up feeling deprived.

Fifteen Minutes Continue

more fame!

Fifteen Minutes

Alas, you can't see my star turn online. But you will have a second chance to hear me on Monday, when an interview with the boss, a coworker and me (about the protest at my office, same as the news last night) airs on the local NPR station. That will most likely be online.

Famous

I love love love being on the news. There, I admit it. I was on ABC at 7 and will be on Fox at 10. But its the same story, so its not as impressive.

Green

Yesterday I headed into town early to go the Chamber of Commerce's St. Patrick's Day Breakfast. 500 people in the room. The head of every business, non-profit, bank. As many women as men. And all but two jokes told were sexist. And the only woman to speak that day? The director of the barbershop quartet. Who had to yell, since she wasn't given a microphone. And the two jokes not about women were about priests.

It also dawned on me that the award they give out, to a community leader who embodies community spirit, volunteerism, blah blah blah, would never ever be given to someone who works at my organization, even though we do just as much for the community (family planning! STI services! Sex ed!), more even than some of the other 'mainstream' groups that get recognized. Lame.

Baby fever is burning hot in our house. Hot Hot Hot. So hot that suddenly the insurmountable costs of day care for two seem doable. If we get rid of satellite tv and get vonage. Get rid of tv. And I am okay with that. And all the crazy work things will never end, and the timing will never be right. So I think we are going to go for it.

Besides, we already have nightly bedtime battles, so we might was well not end there and just give up sleep permanently.

Oh, and it must be spring. I read somewhere that women's bodies are still, to an extent governed by changing seasons and we want to engage in baby making in Spring. Apparently this is because we have worked in artificial light for fewer generations than men have. That sounds like bullshit, but I read this in the NY Times.

Red winged blackbirds have arrived!!!!

Dear god, will winter never end???

I am proud to say that I finished our part of our taxes. But I really have nothing else to report.

What will we do when she outgrows the tub? We don't have a big person sized one so it is this or the shower.

It wasn't like this today. Which means Spring nears. Unless you listen to the forecast. Don't listen to the forecast.

Grabs ya by the ears

I sit here tonight on my coach, sipping a nice zinfandel, and awaiting Lost. If you are a philistine like I used to be, you might picture me drinking pink wine. But oh no. I have learned the true nature of the the zin, thanks to last friday's wine tasting (a benefit for my employer and a benefit OF my job, getting to go to parties for PAY.) One of our Board members introduced the zin we tasted by saying, "This one just grabs ya by the ears!" And that's when I realized that grabbing me by the ears is my red wine standard of excellence. There's probably some technical name for this that Californians and city folk know, but for me, that is good enough.

Which leads me to a totally unrelated except for on the level of consumption thought. My doc says I have IBS and so I have been going to Dr.Google and found a list of what I should not eat and on it...everything I love. Cheese, wine, whole wheat, beans, like every fruit, red meat, fat of all kinds. Basically I am supposed to be eating fiber supplements, water, rice and carrots. Oh, and chicken. Come on! So it begs the question: pained, miserable and never too far from a bathroom? Or satisfied? What would Jesus Do?

Life imitates art. It was only a matter of time before the monkeys jumping on the bed manifested themselves in reality and Bebe jumped head first off the couch. All she could say after? "No more monkey jumpin' on bed." Damn right, girlie! And as a reminder someone has a BLACK and purple and red ear.

I'm home today and I am actually going to take a personal day instead of trying to do work (which doesn't mean that I won't be participating in two conference calls. The roads were awful this morning, but now it looks fine. And I am feeling guilty.

I so suck at dieting. I gained weight at these weeks weigh in (work people weighing and paying in each Monday and loser of biggest percentage gets the money.) So I had chick fingers and onion rings for lunch. So I skipped dinner and now can't sleep because I am hungry. I really want to exercise but have no time at lunch to do so and can't afford to give up anymore time with Bebe Lulu. My friggin' commute is really killing me.

Except for the part where she started yelling "BARACK OBAMA!" in the car today. Which is hysterical. (For the record after she yelled BARACK OBAMA! I tried to get her to say Hillary Clinton, but that was all garbled. And she loves to repeat things she hears on NPR. Until BARACK OBAMA it was mostly saying "TEENS!" during the weather report and "GAZA!" during a report on, well, Gaza.)