In the works

I just returned from a week-long stay in Michigan visiting my parents. It was a much needed break from the hustle of daily life in the Bean, and has definitely shaved some days off from Superman's time away without me feeling it too much. My parents also appreciated seeing the bump and feeling Bebe kick for them for the first time. We even snuck into one of my dad's checkup rooms in between seeing patients, so one of his tech's could perform an ultrasound. I love being able to check in on Bebe every once in a while just to make sure she's behavin' in there.

Now that I'm back, there's a lot happening. A LOT. All good things.

Most of it is "in the works," so I won't count the eggs. But soon there will be more reasons to wake up earlier so I can take a few extra minutes to get polished for work. (Even though few and far between, my rolling-out-of-bed-look must now be sealed in everyone's repressive memory forever).

I know. I hate when people are vague, but lately I haven't been able to sit still long enough to make it all real here yet. But I will.

All I know is that I'm blessed. Blessed blessed blessed blessed blessed...

Soon, I will share the blessings with you.

My new favorite word(s)

So far, I have loved every minute of being pregnito. Trust me, I can say this because based on the stories I've heard from other women, I've had it really easy so far.

But there's one part I'm not looking forward to. I'm sure you can guess that part. I'll give you a big hint. It's the part when it's time for the pregnancy part to be over. I think you get it.

As a woman, I have every right to be scared, nervous, and to get those meds on speed dial.

As for Superman, he doesn't quite get my reservations. Come that fateful day in January when I'm squeezing the life out of his arm and yelling worse obscenities than all the boys in Southie, he'll get it. I'll make sure he gets it, real good.

One night before dinner he said to me, "But I thought you love baby!"

Honey, I love baby. I don't enjoy the daylong rough 'n tough process of bringing baby into this world.

There's a difference.

Later that night, we were flipping through a pregnancy magazine and I came across an article about an emerging trend where the husband gifts his wife with some serious postpartum bling. A thank you for nine months of her not being able to recognize her own body, and an additional I-love-you-so-much-for-pushing-baby-out-of-woo-woo. It's called a "push present."

Push Present. 

And there you have it. My new fave word.

This trend is familiar to me since in the Middle East husbands typically gift something shiny to their wives after baby is born. I don't think Superman took it seriously when I told him the tradition because.... this is the red white and blue, baby.

Well, the fact that we saw it in an American magazine as an emerging trend just sealed that traditional deal.

Face it, Superman. You cannot deny me the fruits of my labor.

The ideas are flowing... So, what are we thinking ladies??

Park it

I love our town for recognizing that I need a parking spot of my own. Granted, it's right next to the handicap spot... 

Still, my waddling self appreciates it. 

Word to the mothers (to-be). 

Gone

Superman left early this morning for a month-long military training. And I'm totally inconsolable.

A month in military family standard time is equivalent to a day or even less in civilian time. A walk in the park.

But for some reason, this time I've been feeling it harder.  (How did I do this for a six month period last time? Or even a year in a combat zone? What has happened to me?!)

Maybe it's because we've gotten used to seeing each other around (somewhat). Or maybe it's because of baby-related hormones. Or maybe it's that I've been feeling a sense of completeness lately with our little growing family...

I have a new found respect for women who go through an entire pregnancy, even babyhood, all while their husbands are deployed. You are all better women than I. Or perhaps you have more balanced progesterone levels...

The worst is that I've been feeling this way for weeks before today. Anxious, nervous, worried, fearful anticipation.

Oh military, you have a sneaky way of just knowing when things are going really good. That's when you figure it's best to throw a wrench in things. And you never forget to throw in that added punch of insomnia, just to put it all even a little more off balance.

As much as I'd love to just sleep away the days, I can't. I can't make us Army wives look weak...

That and seriously, I have some major work deadlines coming up that I can't just wallow away into MIA-hood.

But for the record, it never gets easier -- as much as I'd like to think and say it does.

One month. Here goes.

Happy Day Trip-aversary to Us!

Superman knows I have a soft spot for day trips. He has taken me in a WWII plane, beach hopping on a bike, a river cruise to an Oktoberfest... 

But that was all so long ago. Like some new bling, we were seriously overdue. 

Luckily, Superman gets it. And so off we went for a surprise day trip to a tiny town in southern Mass. 

He called this, the "October Surprise" haha! I'll take it. 

Scratch that

Remember a few days ago when I said all this? 

Well, scratch that. I take it back. Forget the idea of getting that bike back...

Yesterday I witnessed a motorcycle smash into the back of a car. The driver crashed through the back windshield. If I hadn't swerved, I would have sandwiched that motorcyclist in. This isn't the first time I'd seen a bike crash, but it was by far the most horrific as-it's-happening crash I had ever witnessed. I'm not sure what ended up happening to the motorcyclist, whether he lived or died. He really looked in bad shape. Half of his body flew right into the back seat of the car. The other half hung over the trunk of the car. The sound of his body pounding keeps replaying in my head. It shook me. Hard.

It was God's way of saying that we enjoyed that bike while it lasted. For me, that's now good enough.

An Old Stem, A New Leaf

Every year in my twenties has been completely than the year before. Different state, different job, different schools, different point in my relationship with Superman. Friendships have come and gone... 

But no life-changing year has been as radical thus far as the transition from Apple to Bean. 

Some days, I miss the Apple girl. I miss the rush and the attitude and the style of the city. 

And while a part of the Apple will always be with me, I can feel the Bean creeping its way in. 

For instance, in the Apple, if I saw a shady looking women yelling obscenities on the street, I would just walk by. She's shady. She's loud. She's in the Apple. So what. 

Last night, I saw a shady woman on a street corner close to my home and called 911. Even though she wasn't loud, she's a stranger and she's in my town. I was more scared of that than anything I had ever encountered in the Apple. Really. 

In the Apple, a weekly brunch date at a new spot was a must-do. Now, the only apple living I do is go apple picking at an orchard.

Don't get me wrong, I'm embracing the here and now. But I'm fighting to transform on my own terms. There are some things I just won't give up. And at the core, you can see I'm still an Appleite through and through... 

This photo is a bit old, but the sentiment lives. Maybe next year, I'll be in a completely different place in life, but today I say: 

Rock on, domestic diva. But don't let the comfort of the Bean suck the fun out of you.