Overheard at playtime

Jane was languidly rocking in her little toddler rocking chair, while Michael pushed her and sang the words to Rock-A-Bye Baby. Or rather, he sang the first line over and over again, because she seemed to like it.

Michael: Rocka, rocka, rocka...
Me: You know, you're going to be in danger of the council.
Michael: Never mind! She doesn't speak Greek!

A somewhat indelicate topic

But one which demands addressing, nonetheless.

Last night we went to our electric cooperative's annual company picnic, mainly for the free BBQ dinner and promised Mayfield ice cream truck. We hadn't read the minutes, didn't pay attention to the meeting, and left before the final drawing for the grand prize.

We arrived in a somewhat frazzled condition, having been held up for two hours by a terrible wreck on the highway right in front of us. We didn't see it happen, but it must have happened just a minute or two before, as we could actually see clear highway ahead and saw the ambulances zoom past a few minutes after we came to a complete standstill. They actually stopped traffic going the other way so as to land helicopters on the road (why couldn't they have landed the helicopters on the road in front of the wreck? That was nice and clear), and cars were giving up by the droves, crossing the grassy median, and turning back for the last exit, nine miles distant. We weren't sure our car could handle the dip in the middle, nor were we sure how to get there from the wrong exit, so we stayed put and ended up sitting there for just over two hours.

So our condition upon arriving at the picnic, just before they stopped serving the food, was not ideal. Normally I try to avoid unsanitary bathroom conditions, but after spending longer in traffic than I even intended to be out, circumstances dictated otherwise. There was a small cluster of rented toilets off in a corner of the parking lot, and would you believe it, there were three for women and three for men!! Completely unsatisfactory for a crowd of that size, and sure enough, there was a whole line of women waiting while the men trooped happily in and out of their bathrooms. It infuriated me to the point of waxing philosophical, to wit: 1) Why would anyone manufacture male-specific portable restrooms? 2) Are they somehow cheaper to manufacture than the standard kind? 3) Why would anyone with any PR experience even bother renting male-specific portable restrooms? 4) Whoever ran the statistics for the planning for a crowd of this size? 5) WHY would it be cheaper to make a special kind of portable restroom for men only? Isn't standardization always the best method? And so on.

I was waxing eloquent to Michael about this later, and was considering researching the matter further, calling various port-a-potty manufacturers and demanding to know their costs of production for various units, when Michael informed me that, in fact, all the units were identical, and they were probably just labeled 'Men' and 'Women' because people are used to having separate, designated restrooms.

!!!

Sugar high

Last month at my checkup it was mentioned that next time, I'd get the horrid sugar water to drink for the glucose test at the next visit, and my midwife suggested that I could also take home a bag of jelly beans to eat instead, if I preferred. This got me all excited about the possibilities of eating sugar without drinking the dreadful fake orange juice, and I had just decided to make a batch of toffee for my glucose overdose, when I discovered, this last visit, that it had to be a very carefully controlled dose such that only a certain number of Brach's jelly beans would do. The hassle of tracking down the right brand and size and having to chew all those jelly beans in five minutes didn't seem worth it, so I resigned myself to drinking the orange stuff after all. However, having gotten all excited about making a batch of toffee, I decided to go ahead and make some anyway, which I did.

I have yet to find a good recipe for it; I remember that it requires roughly equal parts butter and brown sugar, which must be boiled for a certain length of time before being poured over chopped nuts and topped with chocolate chips, but the only recipe I found in all my cookbooks required corn syrup and water as well. This didn't sound right, but I tried it, and it turned out pretty well, although the finished product was a bit too chewy around the edges. Perhaps actually having a candy thermometer would have helped.

Trapped

Last night we were eating dinner with friends, and I discovered upon reaching home that I'd left my purse there. The friend graciously offered to drop the purse off at Michael's work today, so I should be reunited with it tonight, but in the meantime I am stranded at home without my cell phone, car keys, driver's license, library card, or any number of those useful things which make the world go 'round. I don't have a bicycle so I can't even bike to a store or the library, and I've gotten several notices that books have come in for me. It's a grey, cloudy day, perfect for curling up with a good book and a cup of hot chocolate, and all I can do is bustle around and clean the house all day. Alas and alack for pregnancy forgetfulness.

Halfway there

Baby is 6 1/2 inches now, or else 10 inches from head to toe. Apparently until 20 weeks, the length is measured from 'crown to rump,' because until then the baby is too curled up to be measurable full-length. Although I must say, there is nothing curled up about this baby. We may have thought Jane was an active one, but this child takes the cake. Whatever the 'quickening' is supposed to feel like, there is nothing fluttery about Baby's movements over the past few weeks.

Some people last week, even after seeing me, didn't know I was pregnant.

We still haven't started taking our weekly profile pictures. At this point, since we have no good 'before' shot, we may just not bother. Also, there is some debate as to whether these pictures ought to include Jane or not.

Sara and me with our babies

Audra and me with our babies

Courtney and me with our babies

Mrs. Hall: Turn sideways and bump bellies!
Courtney: There's nothing to bump.

Reagan playing Peekaboo with Jane

Jane, fallen asleep on the long drive home

Carry me back to Old Virginia

This afternoon we will set off for our family's annual Labor Day campout at a YMCA camp in Maryland. I'm a little nervous about the weather, as we are driving and it appears that we'll be following the storm (or vice versa) all the way up the coast. Yesterday heavy rains hit the Atlanta area, and traffic slowed to a crawl. Not fun for the poor little baby in the backseat, who already thinks a ten-hour-drive is quite long enough.

The following week Michael has computer training for work in North Carolina, and we decided that rather than drive home to an empty house for four days, Jane and I would hang out in Virginia the meanwhile and visit with friends and family before picking him up on Friday. We have no fixed engagements at present, but hope to see everyone while we're there!