Happy Friday

It's garbage truck day.  And just at the point where we had decided to get dressed and get on with our day the garbage truck came and there was no turning back--Claire has been at the window for at least 20 min watching him go from one part of our complex to the other (we have a really good vantage point from the window in living room.  So now I'm folding laundry, straightening up the house and listening to Elton John.


Some days are just like that

What Doesn't Kill You

I'm going to come clean right from the start.  I love bad pop music. Like really love it.  Like I have to sneak onto youtube all the time to figure out what songs I'm hearing on the radio.  I then listen to the song over and over and over again.  If I still love it I splurge and spend the $1.29 and add it to my own personal music library.

One of my favorite sources of new music is the gym.  My 2 favorite classes at the gym (here and here) (which if you have not tried out you should.  Do not use my current physique to judge the effectiveness of these classes.  They are incredible and I assure you, you are only 1 month away from actually seeing muscles in your arms) have a very pop-heavy soundtracks right now.  

Today the chest press track was this little number by Kelly Clarkson

Here are the lyrics for the chorus.

What doesn't kill you makes you stronger
Stand a little taller
Doesn't mean I'm lonely when I'm alone
What doesn't kill you makes you fighter
Footsteps even lighter
Doesn't mean I'm over 'cause you're gone

Now, these lyrics seem very appropriate for chest presses.  What doesn't kill you in the chest press arena of life makes you stronger, but as I was hitting the third round I realized that I don't actually believe the saying "what doesn't kill you makes you stronger."  I understand the sentiment behind the saying and I think there are lots of cases where we go through really hard things and consequently we are stronger when we come out of it.

But... the trouble is that that isn't always the case.  There are things that I have been through that have not made me stronger.  There are scars that I carry from dealing with relationships with other people that are still weak places--that will never be strong places. 

The other trouble I see comes when you turn it around.  If we believe that what doesn't kill us makes us stronger, we also believe that what we do to other people, no matter how terrible will eventually make them stronger--like we each have an excuse if we do something mean to other people because it will just make them stronger.

Maybe Hemmingway put it best. So let us be very very careful with one another.

The world breaks everyone and afterward many are strong in the broken places. But those that will not break it kills. It kills the very good and the very gentle and the very brave impartially. If you are none of these you can be sure it will kill you too but there will be no special hurry.

Ernest Hemingway, A Farewell to Arms, 1929

So let us be very very careful with one another.

The Reader

I think the best part about this picture is that after I took it she made at least two more trips to get books and take them back to the bathroom.

A Sunday afternoon at the Swami Meditation Garden

Happy Weekend

I just dropped Claire off at a friend's house, stopped by Mickey-D's for a diet coke and am now waiting to be picked up to head out on a girl's trip to LA. Here's to a little adventure

Confession

I just got bugged that the neighbor's little dog started yapping furiously at 730 on Saturday morning waking everybody up. Then I remembered that we're bringing home a new baby in two months and I just felt sorry.

2 year old girl going on 12 year old boy

We just ordered the Dr Seuss beginner book series for Claire. It's 5 of Dr Seuss's simplest books.  Each of which is around 60 pages (and believe me, when you have read Green Eggs and Ham 5 times already today you feel every one of those 60 pages). That's 300 total pages.

Here is Claire's favorite page of the whole lot (which is from Hop on Pop).

At random points during the day she'll blurt out "Him hurt him bum" and then she giggles.  Sometimes she goes to find the book so that you will know what she is talking about.

I'd love to blame her obsession with the hurt bum on the hubbs but if you know me at all (or any of my siblings) you'll know that clearly comes from my side of the family.

If you're wondering

If you're wondering if I have avoided work for the last 45 minutes and instead spent the time looking at my favorite retailer's websites dreaming about the day that I can wear real clothes again the answer is yes.

To make matters even worse I am currently sporting skinny maternity jeans and an old button-down with the sleeves rolled up that used to belong to the hubbs (which is just about bursting at the tummy button). Not. Cute. (One thing I still can't figure out is why I think being pregnant makes it okay for me to wear skinny jeans. I would NEVER wear skinny jeans in real life.  I naturally have skinny legs and a big tummy so all I think when I wear skinny jeans is, "you look like an ice cream cone." But somehow I think pregnant ladies who look like ice cream cones are cuter than not pregnant ladies who look like ice cream cones.)

The only positive in the whole scenario is that I did find my dream diaper bag. I spotted it on one of my favorite fashion-forward new mom's at church yesterday and I've been internet stalking it ever since.

And diaper bags?  They always fit and they never make you look like an ice cream cone.

The secret to friendship

For adults the secret to friendship is a complex equation where every person weighs the variables differently. Fortunately for 2 and 3 year olds the equation is not nearly so complex. Take less than 1$ worth of vinegar and baking soda in various kinds of containers. Add food coloring and place somewhere where you don't care if things get messy. Instant. Friendship.

Let's Begin Again Shall We?

I'm ready to read again.

And not just historical fiction about Elanor of Aquitaine and the mystery series that have been taking my time these days.  Last night I started The God of Small Things.

Dang.  I had almost forgotten that there are some books where you can't pound through 50 pages in a night. So what do you think?  Are you interested in joining me?  It's going to take a while to get through so what if we discuss it in a month?  Are you in? Depressing book about India?  Count. Me. In.

A New Destination

Claire and I have added a new destination to our regular daytime outings.  It's the Flying Leatherneck museum at the Marine base just down the street (don't let that website fool you.  It's WAY nicer than the museum).   You may remember that we went to the museum last year.  It's located in a triple-wide and the people who volunteer there are awesome and hilarious.

Claire likes to look at the airplanes but mostly, she likes to pick up the different colors of gravel that they have the airplanes parked on and put them in her purse. We have lots of different color rocks from the museum.

She also likes to point to the airplanes and say, "Black airplane. So cute."

Her grandpa would be so proud.

Bugged

I don't normally use this blog as a place to vent but today I just have to.

I went to the doctor today for my blood glucose test and my 29 week appointment.  Looking at my chart my doctor said, "you've gained 19 lbs so far.  I guess we're doing okay."

Okay?  Really?  I've gained 19lbs in 29 weeks (when the doctor's recommended weight gain is between 25 and 35 lbs) which makes me right on track to gain 30 lbs if I gain 1 lb a week for the last 11 weeks (which is average).

You better believe that I gave her absurdly tiny Asian body (which has never had kids) a really nasty look.

Then I came home and ate 3 Rice Krispy treats. 

Well Done Sister Suffragette

As my amazing friend Frances reminded me on facebook this morning, it is 93 years today since the 19th amendment was brought to the senate and after a lengthy discussion it passed with 56 ayes and 25 nays giving women in the United States the right to vote.

There fight for women's suffrage was long and hard.  Women went to prison, they were beaten, had their children taken away and were left by their husbands all in order to ensure that women today would have the right to vote.  I am very grateful that they did.

Perhaps Walt Disney said it best; "well done, sister suffragette**."




** I do think it's worth noting that the greatest line of this song (and perhaps of any Disney song ever) is:
We're clearly soldiers in petticoats
And dauntless crusaders for women's votes
Though we adore men individually
We agree that as a group they're rather stupid