Inspiration

My daily commute on the T is such a great time to just stop and think. As the stations roll by and people get on and off I can let my thoughts ramble on. It was during one of these rides that I envisioned my next quilt.

My thought process went something like this: For Halloween I was planning to get a blonde wig and a cocktail glass and go as Britney Spears. That never quite materialized, but it was fun to have a costume that works specifically when you're pregnant. So I started thinking of who else I could have gone as and that brought me to Hester Prinn from the Scarlet Letter. Then that reminded me of a quilt block I once saw that incorporated Hester Prinn.

For those of you not as fascinated by the quilting world as I inexplicably am, let me introduce you to the "Sunbonnet Sue" block. Let me also explain why this block makes me nigh on violent. Although I can appreciate things that are well-made, or witty, or naturally beautiful, I have an aversion to things that are overly cutesy and sweet. Sunbonnet Sue just happens to fall into this latter category. She's not only impossibly boring, but sickeningly adorable. Usually her dress or bonnet or both are made of a floral pattern. I find a floral pattern I like about once every leap year. I know, that means I should find one this year but I'm kind of busy being pregnant. So anyway, when I come upon a Sunbonnet Sue quilt it makes me want to tear off my own arm just so I have something to throw at it. I feel the same way about Anne Geddes, Build-A-Bear, and Janice Kapp Perry music. *shudders* I just can't handle that kind of stuff. It rubs my cynical self the wrong way... the WAY wrong way. And no, it's not because I'm afraid to get in touch with my sensitive side.

So Hester Prinn and Sunbonnet Sue? you may be asking. Well, once upon a time my sister sent me a link to a website that shows various "bad" Sunbonnet Sue's and a Hester Prinn version was one of them (see http://www.geocities.com/Heartland/Oaks/6813/badsue.html). My sister knew this was my kind of website. I love the Mob Sue, the Firing Squad Sue, the Sue shaving her cat! Once I made this connection with about 10 minutes to go on my train ride, my mind started spinning. I could make my OWN version of the bad Sunbonnet Sues! A whole quilt of them. I would delight in defaming this saccharine sweetheart and depicting her at her very worst. Sunbonnet Sue MUST have a bad side... everyone does! I could do a Word of Wisdom Sue whose smoking and drinking! A Road Rage Sue letting out a string of profanities with a raised fist! A Yankees Fan Sue!!!! That one would be the MOST fun to make! Of course I had to call my sister and tell her all about my epiphany and she was completely on board. Surprisingly, Brent wasn't so much. I think that's just because he likes Anne Geddes :). That's okay, I can make this one without his support. Now if only I could find the time...

Parenting Tip

I got this in a mass email from my Aunt Janet with the title "Why Waste a Temper Tantrum?". I love how even the dog is in on it.

Just Push?

I have to admit I've only read 2 pregnancy books. One is The Girlfriend's Guide to Pregnancy which my friend Chelsea told me to read because it's just THAT funny. Long ago I was hanging out in Harvard Square and decided to stop by The Coop to glance through it. I found myself laughing out loud and decided to get it even though childbirth was so remote a possibility. The second book is Pregnancy Sucks For Him. I was in my first trimester when I spotted this one and a phrase on one of the pages caught my eye, "If she's finally able to sleep, don't wake her up. Ever." I decided to get it for Brent but ended up devouring it myself. Other than that, no obsessive reading, no gossiping with girlfriends, no watching A Baby Story. I just didn't want to freak myself out when it wouldn't do me any good. So it's with this limited knowledge that I went to our birthing class today.

Even though I knew this class would be a frank and honest discussion of what to expect, there were some surprises I wasn't entirely prepared for. So here's my Top 10 Things That Shocked My Socks Off About Labor:

10. Somehow I thought I'd have a small amount of sweat around my hairline, and my cheeks would be rosy with all the exertion. Brent could look down on his glowing wife and be proud of how she was such a trooper. Turns out that's not the case. We watched videos. I saw woman after woman looking like she'd been dragged out of the dumpster... in Hoboken. The looks of panic combined with the rolling eyes and moaning. Oi, not a pretty picture. My visions of retaining some shred of my beauty in this whole process melted. BTW- I haven't been that terrified of an instructional video since I took Driver's Ed.

9. Epidural. Good idea, right? Everyone's talked about it like it's the Taj Mahal of the birthing experience. Turns out anesthesia won't even consider doing one until you've had a bag of fluids via I.V. in you... no matter HOW hydrated you are. This brought up many fond memories of the last time I had to get a bag (or two) of fluids for dehydration. Oh, and it takes about 20 minutes for the entire procedure and another 20 for the whole thing to take effect. That's over an hour of dealing with the contractions unmedicated. Not to mention of all the epidural fans I've talked to, not one mentioned the requisite catheters (note, PLURAL) that go along with it.

8. Along those same lines, I found out the epidural can significantly slow down the labor process and eventually you may be headed for a Cesarean. I know many a woman who's a fan of the Cesarean. Not so much.

7. Brent has to breath WITH me. That's right, all that silly huffing and puffing you see belabored women doing? He's supposed to do it with me because supposedly I'll forget everything we learned today when I'm writhing in excruciating pain.

6. I really don't like stinky feet. I realized this near the end of the day when the woman to my right took off her slippers to relieve her swollen feet. While I sympathize with her, I almost choked on the fumes. Of course, I didn't say a word because her husband had a t-shirt that said, "Maine State Prison" on it. Besides, they were really nice people.

5. There's a variety of fluids that will be flinging out of my body while I'm in labor from vomit to blood to well, the baby I guess. Essentially my innards will become my outtards. There's no other way to put it... it's just plain gross.

4. Water helps to bring on labor. So my love of baths, warm showers and the like may just come in handy. Hooray, I feel like I've done something right!

3. Yoga, it makes more sense now. Our instructor talked about how we needed to breathe deeply so we'd stay "relaxed" during the intense pain. Reminds me of when I'd be in the down dog pose with my posterior in the air, all that weight pressing on my tiny little arms and wrists and my yogi would say, "Breath into the pose.... now relax... deeper." I thought those yoga instructors were just sado-masochists. Now I'm seeing their relation to the circle of life.

2. Somehow I was hoping all the unsolicited advice would stop once I had the baby. Turns out that just continues... for the rest of this child's life. Luckily I haven't had TOO much regarding labor and delivery. My favorite was the girl who told me to try and put off having my epidural for as long as possible because it would help me with the pushing. This is the girl who's planning on adopting because she's terrified of labor.

1. I was under the (false) impression that all the ugliness of labor and delivery would be erased once you saw that perfectly beautiful creature. Hmmm, I guess that's actually not QUITE what happens. The instructor showed us a variety of pictures of things that shouldn't throw us off when we finally meet our offspring. In one of the videos, the mother even commented about her newborn, "It doesn't even look like a baby!" Yeah, between the cone heads, vernix, swollen faces, slime, genitals, blood, purple hands and feet, rashes, "stork bites", peeling skin and other lovely normalcies, turns out that's not entirely the case. Soooo, ooohkay.

I guess I'll just take the advice of the birthing instructor and take things one contraction at a time.

Laughed So Hard, Almost Went Into Labor

Solitude by Ella Wheeler Wilcox

LAUGH, and the world laughs with you;
Weep, and you weep alone.
For the sad old earth must borrow it's mirth,
But has trouble enough of it's own.
Sing, and the hills will answer;
Sigh, it is lost on the air.
The echoes bound to a joyful sound,
But shrink from voicing care.


Rejoice, and men will seek you;
Grieve, and they turn and go.
They want full measure of all your pleasure,
But they do not need your woe.
Be glad, and your friends are many;
Be sad, and you lose them all.
There are none to decline your nectared wine,
But alone you must drink life's gall.


Feast, and your halls are crowded;
Fast, and the world goes by.
Succeed and give, and it helps you live,
But no man can help you die.
There is room in the halls of pleasure
For a long and lordly train,
But one by one we must all file on
Through the narrow aisles of pain.


This link (below) is from a Japanese gameshow. To think how elaborate U.S. gameshows are and here they use nothing more than a rubber band and marshmellows on string which is FAR more entertaining. Come on 3 people who read my blog! This is an official invitation to laugh with me.

Go ahead, click it! I recommend watching all the way to the end because I think the red team's the best. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fpg3xM-niVw

Appearances Can Be Deceiving

Our baby is going to be born in the ghetto. Not that we don't have good insurance, on the contrary we have fabulous insurance but since this is my first baby, we were picky about the doctor. Our doctor is fabulous. She's everything you'd want in your OB-GYN and I just love her. She's bright and funny yet straightforward and thoughtful when answering my millions of questions. She's just a doll. She also happens to work at Tufts New England Medical Center which is right by Chinatown... in the ghetto (formerly known as the combat zone).

Tonight I had a birthing class so I walked to the orange line stop after work. Brent wasn't going to make this one so I was on my own. The orange line isn't necessarily scary, especially during rush hour. Besides, the T policeman who stands there kind of provides a sense of security. The train was running behind and the crowd waiting at the stop got bigger and bigger. I was a little anxious about being late but the masses were making me nervous. Bostonians are brash, and when push comes to shove, they shove... and then some.

Finally the train arrived and it stopped with the door just to my right. It's common protocol to let passengers off before rushing in. Once everyone was off, the black youth standing right in front of the door, the one with the oversized baseball cap, long gold chain and baggy pants put out his arms to block everyone from entering and loudly announced, "NOPE! Let this lady on first." Everyone looked at me and seeing I was clearly pregnant, stood aside so I could get on the train first. In other circumstances I would have dismissed this boy, but this afternoon he became my hero.

All I can say is his momma taught him right!

RABBITS!

Among the curious and strange traditions of my family is that of rabbits. On the first day of the month, whoever yells "Rabbits!" first has luck for the rest of the month and is entitled to a little treat. Since I grew up in a large family, that meant there were just that many more people vying to get rabbits. The teenagers rarely got it (you had to be an early riser) and there was a time when Dad would sneak into everyone's room, turn up the intercom full-blast and then yell it at the top of his lungs from the main control. It's not that my Dad's immature you see, it just that... well he had a... it's complica... it's INVOLVED. Dad had an interesting sense of fun.

But I digress. When I married I passed this particular tradition along. At first Brent wasn't too keen. He'd look at me like, well, like I'd just joyously yelled out the name of a furry mammal for no apparent reason. "Remind me again, why do you do that?" So I'd explain it all over. After a few months I think his competitive edge caught up with him. Eventually when I got rabbits he'd nod and say, "Oh yeah, that's right!" Then came the day when he gave me a steely stare and said, "Uh FERRET! Or um CHICKEN!" You meant rabbits? He was excited that he'd finally remembered even if he didn't get it perfectly right. Ever since then, he's been beating me to the punch... at my OWN game!

This year Februrary 1 just happened to fall on a Friday which just happens to be the day I have an 8:30 AM meeting and we just happened to be running behind. We decided to drive into work and between being late and Boston traffic, rabbits was the last thing on our minds. I didn't get out of my meeting until 10 and I already had a message. All of my clients are in the Central time zone so it's rare to get a call before 10. I listened to the message and it was my love... victoriously ripping the rabbits rug out from under me... again. My fingers nimbly dialed his work number. I was determined to pretend I hadn't heard the message or at least argue you can't leave a rabbits voicemail. He answered and immediately sang out "RAB-BITS!" Crap, he knows me too well. Okay, so he gets all the luck this month, it's just a game after all.