<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7075648795761456017</id><updated>2011-09-30T13:59:37.966-04:00</updated><category term='Motherhood'/><category term='Picture'/><category term='Baby Z'/><category term='Third Trimester'/><category term='Friends'/><category term='Thoughts'/><category term='Aspirations'/><category term='S'/><category term='Test'/><category term='Ultrasound'/><category term='Insurance'/><category term='Moving'/><category term='natural childbirth'/><category term='Stuff we like'/><category term='Symptoms'/><category term='First Trimester'/><category term='baking'/><category term='Travels'/><category term='Food'/><category term='video'/><category term='the final stretch'/><category term='PUPPS'/><category term='Second Trimester'/><category term='work'/><category term='ARG moments'/><title type='text'>Life's Little Surprises</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buddingviolet.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7075648795761456017/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buddingviolet.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Angie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13343787859995799488</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YTu9cbydh4M/TTeCCu8vCNI/AAAAAAAAH2o/fNYX7IRub2Q/s1600-R/cauliflower_purple_cape.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>86</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7075648795761456017.post-8372225693249541341</id><published>2011-06-21T11:05:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2011-06-21T11:05:48.768-04:00</updated><title type='text'>June 2011</title><content type='html'>My last update wasn't &lt;i&gt;that&lt;/i&gt; long ago, right? I mean, I'm at the same job. I did relocated to a hip neighborhood and gained too much weight though.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Boyfriend and I (and son) moved into an amazing two bedroom apartment. We have an absentee landlord (we've never even met him!) and an awesome kitchen. Boyfriend is very excited about the dishwasher, a title he previously held. I am excited about not having to pay for cooking gas, although I do less baking now that I'm a slave to my desk (not really though) eight hours daily.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We went to Bonnaroo a few weeks ago. We drove. To Tennessee. From New York. Luckily, we had the foresight to leave the kid at home, with grandma. We camped (my first time!) and saw a lot of bands and it was awesome sauce. It was also our last vacation this year and well into next year until we have made a significant dent in our debt. It's all about the staycations from now on!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm going to be a bridesmaid for the first time. A really good friend is getting married in September. It's all good and fun, except she's really traditional and all this wedding hoopla is affecting my wallet. There's a bridal shower, a bachelorette weekend getaway, the dress (which, thankfully is not hideous) and the wedding present. Oh, and a hotel room because the wedding is not close to home. This is going to cost as much as our trip to Bonnaroo!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Back to our apartment. We moved in May but still have not fully unpacked. It's been a busy two months. Last night we finally unpacked the scale. I stepped on it and gave myself a heart attack. So this morning I left for work 30 minutes earlier than usual, took the train to Union Square, then walked the 30 additional blocks to Midtown. Google maps said I could walk it in 30 minutes. It took me 20. I'm significantly proud of myself, mainly because I've found a way to get some kind of exercise within my time limits. Did I mention that I plan on walking back to Union Square after work and repeating this for the rest of the summer? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All in all, besides being uneasy about being in debt, life is sweet. Boyfriend is an amazing caretaker and Z absolutely adores him. This past weekend we went to Coney Island's Mermaid Parade. Z was originally dressed as Super SpongeBob, with a yellow spongebob shirt, red superman cape and red briefs. It was so hot that the ink on the tag on the shirt started to melt and rubbed off on his back. We decided that it was better to have him be a shirtless Superhero. The mohawk only added to the effect:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-LIVrxNy3Q8c/TgCya1JHh2I/AAAAAAAAH34/T4V3AbG4-5Q/s1600/SuperZaine.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="400" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-LIVrxNy3Q8c/TgCya1JHh2I/AAAAAAAAH34/T4V3AbG4-5Q/s400/SuperZaine.jpg" width="300" /&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*Sigh* My baby is growing up way too fast.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7075648795761456017-8372225693249541341?l=buddingviolet.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buddingviolet.blogspot.com/feeds/8372225693249541341/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://buddingviolet.blogspot.com/2011/06/june-2011.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7075648795761456017/posts/default/8372225693249541341'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7075648795761456017/posts/default/8372225693249541341'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buddingviolet.blogspot.com/2011/06/june-2011.html' title='June 2011'/><author><name>Angie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13343787859995799488</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YTu9cbydh4M/TTeCCu8vCNI/AAAAAAAAH2o/fNYX7IRub2Q/s1600-R/cauliflower_purple_cape.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-LIVrxNy3Q8c/TgCya1JHh2I/AAAAAAAAH34/T4V3AbG4-5Q/s72-c/SuperZaine.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7075648795761456017.post-6771648666217814509</id><published>2011-03-28T12:50:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2011-03-28T12:50:36.553-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Moving on up</title><content type='html'>I spent Sunday grocery shopping with Z. Since I didn't have a regular job for a good while, I used to avoid the supermarket on the weekends. Surprisingly, it wasn't as painful as I thought it would be. The lines weren't ridiculous, and it was nice to see other families shopping with their babies in tow.&lt;br /&gt;Z loves hanging out in the shopping cart. He helped me pick out green beans, put them in the plastic bag I was holding, and then placed the bag behind him in the cart. Mommy's little helper. It wasn't so helpful when he started grabbing everything and throwing it in the cart ("No Z, I don't need shallots!") but I placated him with grapes and other stolen goodies. (Shh!) &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We're moving soon. Waiting for our application to be approved by building management. Since I just started working, I don't have an actual paystub yet, but I have sent in both a letter from my employer and my employee contract. They called yesterday wanting contact information for my previous employer. They called today wanting contact information for our current landlord. This is annoying but hopefully it's a means to an end. We have already started packing. Move in date would be mid-April.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7075648795761456017-6771648666217814509?l=buddingviolet.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buddingviolet.blogspot.com/feeds/6771648666217814509/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://buddingviolet.blogspot.com/2011/03/moving-on-up.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7075648795761456017/posts/default/6771648666217814509'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7075648795761456017/posts/default/6771648666217814509'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buddingviolet.blogspot.com/2011/03/moving-on-up.html' title='Moving on up'/><author><name>Angie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13343787859995799488</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YTu9cbydh4M/TTeCCu8vCNI/AAAAAAAAH2o/fNYX7IRub2Q/s1600-R/cauliflower_purple_cape.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7075648795761456017.post-444312801053550816</id><published>2011-03-24T18:00:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2011-03-24T18:00:57.191-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='ARG moments'/><title type='text'>Goodbye AMEX</title><content type='html'>ARG.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I got a call on my cell phone this morning as I was entering the elevator to go to work. An automated voice informed me that American Express has made changes to my card and I needed to call a number to find out what those changes were. So they basically called me to tell me to call them? They couldn't just tell me what the damn change was? Since I was in an elevator and nowhere near a pen, I didn't get to write down the number. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fastforward to this afternoon when I get an email from them explaining the change. They lowered my credit limit. Lowered is generous. They cut my credit limit in half. Which means I'm almost at my credit limit. Which means I can't used my credit card.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dude. I'd understand if I was missing payments, or late with payments. I'd understand if I had a high outstanding balance for a lengthy period of time. I'd understand if my credit was shitty.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Not the case. I had a high balance back in September, then I got a "student loan" and paid it off. Been consistently paying off my balance until recently. Since I found out I'd be employed again, I got generous with my use of the card, because I know that I will be able to fully pay off my balance in a few months.This should not matter to the credit card company since they are charging a nifty amount of interest on my balance. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway. I'm done with American Express. I am paying off this balance as quickly as possible then canceling the card. They will never again earn interest from me. Take that you assholes. Looks like my other cards will be benefiting from this change. Visa, you're welcome.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7075648795761456017-444312801053550816?l=buddingviolet.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buddingviolet.blogspot.com/feeds/444312801053550816/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://buddingviolet.blogspot.com/2011/03/goodbye-amex.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7075648795761456017/posts/default/444312801053550816'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7075648795761456017/posts/default/444312801053550816'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buddingviolet.blogspot.com/2011/03/goodbye-amex.html' title='Goodbye AMEX'/><author><name>Angie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13343787859995799488</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YTu9cbydh4M/TTeCCu8vCNI/AAAAAAAAH2o/fNYX7IRub2Q/s1600-R/cauliflower_purple_cape.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7075648795761456017.post-121702026840120765</id><published>2011-03-21T15:36:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2011-03-21T15:36:00.561-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Baby Z'/><title type='text'>TGIF</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="https://fbcdn-sphotos-a.akamaihd.net/hphotos-ak-ash4/198225_10150108708951439_706916438_6396405_4491066_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="https://fbcdn-sphotos-a.akamaihd.net/hphotos-ak-ash4/198225_10150108708951439_706916438_6396405_4491066_n.jpg" width="240" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;We played at Brooklyn Bridge park. S dressed Z in the most adorable red corduroy overalls ever. This is life. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(Contemplating a move to tumblr.) Hmm.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7075648795761456017-121702026840120765?l=buddingviolet.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buddingviolet.blogspot.com/feeds/121702026840120765/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://buddingviolet.blogspot.com/2011/03/tgif.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7075648795761456017/posts/default/121702026840120765'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7075648795761456017/posts/default/121702026840120765'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buddingviolet.blogspot.com/2011/03/tgif.html' title='TGIF'/><author><name>Angie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13343787859995799488</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YTu9cbydh4M/TTeCCu8vCNI/AAAAAAAAH2o/fNYX7IRub2Q/s1600-R/cauliflower_purple_cape.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7075648795761456017.post-2233667363273510263</id><published>2011-03-18T17:40:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2011-03-18T17:40:49.430-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='work'/><title type='text'>Week one wrap up</title><content type='html'>1/2 hour to go to the end of week 1 at work.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes I feel like I'm in way over my head. But mostly, I welcome the challenge. &lt;br /&gt;Yesterday I went out afterwork with a group of friends. They asked if it was hard to be away from Z. Quite frankly, it's not. Although I definitely would love having a little more time to spend with him in the afternoons, I'm quite happy in my new role as worker bee. Routine is good. Who knew?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7075648795761456017-2233667363273510263?l=buddingviolet.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buddingviolet.blogspot.com/feeds/2233667363273510263/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://buddingviolet.blogspot.com/2011/03/week-one-wrap-up.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7075648795761456017/posts/default/2233667363273510263'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7075648795761456017/posts/default/2233667363273510263'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buddingviolet.blogspot.com/2011/03/week-one-wrap-up.html' title='Week one wrap up'/><author><name>Angie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13343787859995799488</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YTu9cbydh4M/TTeCCu8vCNI/AAAAAAAAH2o/fNYX7IRub2Q/s1600-R/cauliflower_purple_cape.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7075648795761456017.post-1610501520158179659</id><published>2011-03-16T13:31:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2011-03-16T13:31:05.958-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='work'/><title type='text'>Midweek means something again</title><content type='html'>It's my third day at work and I'm blogging during my lunch hour. Just ate a healthy green salad I brought from home. This is to counterbalance the excessive amount of food I consumed on a cruise last week. We went on a 7-day trip to the Bahamas. It was very relaxing and the perfect end to my very, very extended maternity leave.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Life certainly has changed. I wake up at 6am, and am out the door by 7:30. I get back home by 7:30pm, have enough time to have dinner with the family and play with Z before heading off to bed and doing it all again. Surprisingly, it's not tedious. Perhaps it will get that way in the future, but for now I am enjoying the 9-6 grind. S is a stay at home dad, mostly. He either takes Z to work with him or works nights and weekends. His clients love Z, and don't mind having him around. S has wholly embraced the role of SAHD. So far, everything is working out perfectly. Z is growing up so quickly. I'm so happy that I was able to be there for his first 1 1/2 years. And quite thankful that we didn't need to put him in daycare.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Work itself is promising. I'm learning a lot, and re-learning even more. When you've been out of the game for almost 2 years, you tend to forget the basics. Its slowly coming back to me. By next week I'll be up to speed, fingers crossed!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7075648795761456017-1610501520158179659?l=buddingviolet.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buddingviolet.blogspot.com/feeds/1610501520158179659/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://buddingviolet.blogspot.com/2011/03/midweek-means-something-again.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7075648795761456017/posts/default/1610501520158179659'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7075648795761456017/posts/default/1610501520158179659'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buddingviolet.blogspot.com/2011/03/midweek-means-something-again.html' title='Midweek means something again'/><author><name>Angie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13343787859995799488</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YTu9cbydh4M/TTeCCu8vCNI/AAAAAAAAH2o/fNYX7IRub2Q/s1600-R/cauliflower_purple_cape.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7075648795761456017.post-2686883624022480269</id><published>2011-02-22T00:24:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2011-02-22T00:24:33.408-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='work'/><title type='text'>Happy post</title><content type='html'>I wrote this who blog about the process and how I got to where I am, but deleted it because it's not relevant. What is relevant? &lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;I GOT A JOB!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Not any job. A job I never knew I always wanted. A combination of travel, teaching, accounting knowledge, and computer software. At a growing firm in an industry that's not going anywhere anytime soon. The possibilities are endless.&lt;br /&gt;I start in a few weeks. Am currently in the process of booking a vacation for my family. It's been a long time coming.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The moral? Life always works itself out. The key is not getting discouraged when doors close. Just look for the window. And kick it in.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7075648795761456017-2686883624022480269?l=buddingviolet.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buddingviolet.blogspot.com/feeds/2686883624022480269/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://buddingviolet.blogspot.com/2011/02/happy-post.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7075648795761456017/posts/default/2686883624022480269'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7075648795761456017/posts/default/2686883624022480269'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buddingviolet.blogspot.com/2011/02/happy-post.html' title='Happy post'/><author><name>Angie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13343787859995799488</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YTu9cbydh4M/TTeCCu8vCNI/AAAAAAAAH2o/fNYX7IRub2Q/s1600-R/cauliflower_purple_cape.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7075648795761456017.post-6010045044614618788</id><published>2011-02-21T07:23:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2011-02-21T07:23:36.471-05:00</updated><title type='text'>thought this was interesting</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href='NYTimes: Blogs Wane as the Young Drift to Sites Like Twitter &lt;br/&gt; http://nyti.ms/gaIV4B'&gt;NYTimes: Blogs Wane as the Young Drift to Sites Like Twitter&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style='clear: both; text-align: center; font-size: xx-small;'&gt;Published with Blogger-droid v1.6.7&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7075648795761456017-6010045044614618788?l=buddingviolet.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buddingviolet.blogspot.com/feeds/6010045044614618788/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://buddingviolet.blogspot.com/2011/02/thought-this-was-interesting.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7075648795761456017/posts/default/6010045044614618788'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7075648795761456017/posts/default/6010045044614618788'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buddingviolet.blogspot.com/2011/02/thought-this-was-interesting.html' title='thought this was interesting'/><author><name>Angie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13343787859995799488</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YTu9cbydh4M/TTeCCu8vCNI/AAAAAAAAH2o/fNYX7IRub2Q/s1600-R/cauliflower_purple_cape.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7075648795761456017.post-6960114700945344096</id><published>2011-02-15T20:42:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2011-02-15T20:42:49.537-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Baby Z'/><title type='text'>Nerves (and Z update)</title><content type='html'>I'm nervous about tomorrow. I'm so nervous that I don't want to write about what I'm nervous about, b/c I don't want to jinx anything. Superstitious much? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In other news, Z had a check-up on Monday. He's 16 months, 25 pounds and 32 inches tall. Which means he's over-tall and under-weight. Or perfectly normal and healthy. He also has all 16 of his teeth. The last four incisors came out this past month. Which would explain why he'd wake up crying in the middle of the night. He's saying simple words like dog and cat, and of course, mama and dada. We're trying to teach him body parts, but he doesn't have it down yet. The cutest thing happened at his cousins house. We were talking to their nanny, a Chinese woman whose name is pronounced I-E. (No idea how to spell it.) I looked over to Z, who is adamantly pointing to his eye! When we said I-E, he heard eye!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7075648795761456017-6960114700945344096?l=buddingviolet.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buddingviolet.blogspot.com/feeds/6960114700945344096/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://buddingviolet.blogspot.com/2011/02/nerves-and-z-update.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7075648795761456017/posts/default/6960114700945344096'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7075648795761456017/posts/default/6960114700945344096'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buddingviolet.blogspot.com/2011/02/nerves-and-z-update.html' title='Nerves (and Z update)'/><author><name>Angie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13343787859995799488</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YTu9cbydh4M/TTeCCu8vCNI/AAAAAAAAH2o/fNYX7IRub2Q/s1600-R/cauliflower_purple_cape.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7075648795761456017.post-8010824477646798469</id><published>2011-02-15T10:20:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2011-02-15T10:20:21.813-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='work'/><title type='text'>test</title><content type='html'>Am writing from an Android phone. Not as easy as typing from a full length keyboard, but it's good to know that I have options.  &lt;br/&gt; I got a job on Wednesday. Was supposed to start on Monday but they called on Friday to tell me that they can't afford to hire me until April.  &lt;br/&gt; Ha.  &lt;br/&gt; It might be a blessing in disguise. That phone call motivated me to try as hard as possible to find another better job before April, just so that when they do call, I can take extreme pleasure in turning them down.  &lt;br/&gt; We'll see what happens. &lt;div style='clear: both; text-align: center; font-size: xx-small;'&gt;Published with Blogger-droid v1.6.7&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7075648795761456017-8010824477646798469?l=buddingviolet.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buddingviolet.blogspot.com/feeds/8010824477646798469/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://buddingviolet.blogspot.com/2011/02/test.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7075648795761456017/posts/default/8010824477646798469'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7075648795761456017/posts/default/8010824477646798469'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buddingviolet.blogspot.com/2011/02/test.html' title='test'/><author><name>Angie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13343787859995799488</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YTu9cbydh4M/TTeCCu8vCNI/AAAAAAAAH2o/fNYX7IRub2Q/s1600-R/cauliflower_purple_cape.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7075648795761456017.post-7020966224359351022</id><published>2011-02-04T01:10:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2011-02-04T01:10:23.511-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Friends'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='S'/><title type='text'>30</title><content type='html'>I turned 30 a few days ago. I still can't believe it. You think you're going to be in college forever and onc day you wake up and you're 30. S surprised me with a road trip to Philadelphia to see one of my favorite bands perform. We stayed with friends. The band performed the night before my birthday, which was a fitting end to the decade. Afterward, we met our friends at a bar, (while their teenage daughter babysat Z) and they brought out a cake at midnight. It was sweet. &lt;br /&gt;Tomorrow I'm meeting friends and dancing the night away. It just wouldn't be a milestone birthday celebration without some booty shaking. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Job search is...going. Today I got a call about a position I turned down a few months ago. They offered me more money.It's still not enough, but I will probably take it. As much as I love hanging out with my family, I need to be busier. It's the only way I can get things done. &lt;br /&gt;Things seem to be falling into place. Thirties are the new twenties, right?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7075648795761456017-7020966224359351022?l=buddingviolet.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buddingviolet.blogspot.com/feeds/7020966224359351022/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://buddingviolet.blogspot.com/2011/02/30.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7075648795761456017/posts/default/7020966224359351022'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7075648795761456017/posts/default/7020966224359351022'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buddingviolet.blogspot.com/2011/02/30.html' title='30'/><author><name>Angie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13343787859995799488</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YTu9cbydh4M/TTeCCu8vCNI/AAAAAAAAH2o/fNYX7IRub2Q/s1600-R/cauliflower_purple_cape.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7075648795761456017.post-2370735287335045358</id><published>2011-01-29T21:00:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2011-01-29T21:00:51.040-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Food'/><title type='text'>Helper</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://sphotos.ak.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ak-ash1/hs895.ash1/180370_486984701438_706916438_6005245_6142281_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="300" src="http://sphotos.ak.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ak-ash1/hs895.ash1/180370_486984701438_706916438_6005245_6142281_n.jpg" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He begs and begs and begs until I pick him up to show him what's for dinner. He sits on the kitchen floor and plays with the pots and pans, "cooking" up his toys, stirring, tasting, just like mama.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7075648795761456017-2370735287335045358?l=buddingviolet.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buddingviolet.blogspot.com/feeds/2370735287335045358/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://buddingviolet.blogspot.com/2011/01/helper.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7075648795761456017/posts/default/2370735287335045358'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7075648795761456017/posts/default/2370735287335045358'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buddingviolet.blogspot.com/2011/01/helper.html' title='Helper'/><author><name>Angie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13343787859995799488</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YTu9cbydh4M/TTeCCu8vCNI/AAAAAAAAH2o/fNYX7IRub2Q/s1600-R/cauliflower_purple_cape.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7075648795761456017.post-5894870583391102288</id><published>2011-01-29T08:45:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2011-01-29T08:45:55.088-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Food'/><title type='text'>Pumpkin</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://windowstorussia.com/wp-content/uploads/2010/06/pumpkin.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="200" src="http://windowstorussia.com/wp-content/uploads/2010/06/pumpkin.jpg" width="200" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You may not know this from the way it's treated here in the US, but pumpkin is a vegetable. And a great one at that. It's high in beta carotene and fiber and potassium, etc, etc. I grew up in South America, and we ate pumpkin on a regular basis. And not as a dessert either. My boyfriend, who was born and raised in Brooklyn, once mentioned that he wouldn't know what to do with a pumpkin, other than make a pie. A quick internet search for pumpkin recipes shows the same sentiment--dozens of recipes for pumpkin desserts, and little else.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last week I bought a piece of fresh pumpkin without knowing what I'd be doing with it. My son has recently developed an aversion to green foods, so I needed new ways to get vegetables in him. I did the usual internet search for inspiration, but came up empty. So I got creative and made pumpkin gnocchi.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The process was simple: Steam the pumpkin until tender, then combine with an egg, seasoning (nutmeg is excellent with pumpkin), and enough flour to form a dough. Then roll the dough into a rope, cut into "pillows" and throw into boiling water. Cook until the gnocchi floats. That's it. For something extra, you can saute the gnocchi in some butter. It was quite yummy and my son ate it up with no complaints. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The second recipe is even simpler. Saute onion and garlic in a pan, add chopped pumpkin, spices (s+p, cumin and curry powder) and cover, letting the steam cook the pumpkin. Cook until the pumpkin breaks down. Serve over rice. Another dish the whole family enjoyed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I now buy pumpkin on a regular basis. A chunk costs less than $2 and feeds a family of three. Cheap, delicious and nutritious!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7075648795761456017-5894870583391102288?l=buddingviolet.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buddingviolet.blogspot.com/feeds/5894870583391102288/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://buddingviolet.blogspot.com/2011/01/pumpkin.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7075648795761456017/posts/default/5894870583391102288'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7075648795761456017/posts/default/5894870583391102288'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buddingviolet.blogspot.com/2011/01/pumpkin.html' title='Pumpkin'/><author><name>Angie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13343787859995799488</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YTu9cbydh4M/TTeCCu8vCNI/AAAAAAAAH2o/fNYX7IRub2Q/s1600-R/cauliflower_purple_cape.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7075648795761456017.post-5793412585055997243</id><published>2011-01-19T00:57:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2011-01-19T00:57:26.557-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Food'/><title type='text'>Direction</title><content type='html'>I can't be unemployed forever, right? At some point it's going to get better out there and I'll manage to get myself one of those job things again.&lt;br /&gt;At this point, I'm not trying as hard as I could be. It's so easy to waste the day away, especially when you're taking care of an attention-grabbing toddler. There's a two hour break in the middle of the day when he takes his nap, and I'm supposed to do the things I'm supposed to be doing. You know, the marketing, the self-promotion, the networking. Phone calls and emails and follow-up phone calls and emails.&lt;br /&gt;But those two hours are even better for zoning out on the couch.&lt;br /&gt;And so it goes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Been thinking more about where I want this blog to go. I want to be writing about all the wonderful things that are happening in my kitchen. But I don't want to be cliche and post recipes and pictures. That's been done, better than I will be able to.&lt;br /&gt;But I do believe that there is value in what I'm doing in the kitchen. For one thing, even though I make everything from scratch, I rarely ever spend more than half hour on a meal. So many people are afraid of the kitchen, and of prep work. And vegetables. I want people to see that it is possible to cook nutritious and delicious food, if only you'd put a little love into it.&amp;nbsp;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7075648795761456017-5793412585055997243?l=buddingviolet.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7075648795761456017/posts/default/5793412585055997243'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7075648795761456017/posts/default/5793412585055997243'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buddingviolet.blogspot.com/2011/01/direction.html' title='Direction'/><author><name>Angie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13343787859995799488</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YTu9cbydh4M/TTeCCu8vCNI/AAAAAAAAH2o/fNYX7IRub2Q/s1600-R/cauliflower_purple_cape.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7075648795761456017.post-1211724410135152680</id><published>2011-01-19T00:25:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2011-01-19T00:25:48.444-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='baking'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Food'/><title type='text'>Buttermilk Biscuits</title><content type='html'>I recently bought 25 pounds of flour from Costco. It's really not a lot when you do as much baking as I do. However, when I tried making cakes with it, the results were rather flat. All flour is not created equal. Something about the gluten/protein ratio. I don't really care, I just want fluffy, not rocky.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This morning I scored a small victory. I needed to use buttermilk I had in the fridge, leftover from my attempts at red velvet cake. Decided to make biscuits. I did some research, and ended up using a recipe that used melted butter added to the buttermilk. Do you know what happens when you add melted butter to cold buttermilk? It clumps. And when you add that mixture to the dry ingredients, the clumped butter stays in the batter. The biscuits from that batter are light and airy, moist and buttery. It also helped that I doubled the recommended amount of baking powder, which compensated for my crappy flour. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;AND. I also added some shredded cheddar to the mix. And crumpled bacon.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bacon Cheddar Buttermilk Biscuits. They were as good as they sound and then some.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7075648795761456017-1211724410135152680?l=buddingviolet.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7075648795761456017/posts/default/1211724410135152680'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7075648795761456017/posts/default/1211724410135152680'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buddingviolet.blogspot.com/2011/01/buttermilk-biscuits.html' title='Buttermilk Biscuits'/><author><name>Angie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13343787859995799488</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YTu9cbydh4M/TTeCCu8vCNI/AAAAAAAAH2o/fNYX7IRub2Q/s1600-R/cauliflower_purple_cape.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7075648795761456017.post-7500540457498211665</id><published>2011-01-17T23:58:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2011-01-17T23:59:27.970-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Food'/><title type='text'>Cake</title><content type='html'>I received a kitchenaid mixer for Christmas and haven't stopped baking. Over the weekend I made three birthday cakes: a traditional red velvet for a close friend's 30th, a pink princess cake for my niece's 3rd birthday, and a "road" cake, topped with three matchbox cars, for my nephew's 16th birthday. Am contemplating blogging about baking, but I don't have a camera that would do the cakes justice. This one comes close--I tried out macros:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YTu9cbydh4M/TTUdV5_TBRI/AAAAAAAAH2g/2IIezFQuCVM/s1600/DSC07946.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="300" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YTu9cbydh4M/TTUdV5_TBRI/AAAAAAAAH2g/2IIezFQuCVM/s400/DSC07946.JPG" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7075648795761456017-7500540457498211665?l=buddingviolet.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7075648795761456017/posts/default/7500540457498211665'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7075648795761456017/posts/default/7500540457498211665'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buddingviolet.blogspot.com/2011/01/cake.html' title='Cake'/><author><name>Angie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13343787859995799488</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YTu9cbydh4M/TTeCCu8vCNI/AAAAAAAAH2o/fNYX7IRub2Q/s1600-R/cauliflower_purple_cape.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YTu9cbydh4M/TTUdV5_TBRI/AAAAAAAAH2g/2IIezFQuCVM/s72-c/DSC07946.JPG' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7075648795761456017.post-7143769904612093116</id><published>2011-01-02T13:00:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2011-01-02T13:01:41.578-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Courtesy of Postsecret.com</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_a7jkcMVp5Vg/TR_3oABYGFI/AAAAAAAAN00/ooOyOwbHZN0/s1600/%2524mas.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="267" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_a7jkcMVp5Vg/TR_3oABYGFI/AAAAAAAAN00/ooOyOwbHZN0/s400/%2524mas.jpg" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7075648795761456017-7143769904612093116?l=buddingviolet.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7075648795761456017/posts/default/7143769904612093116'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7075648795761456017/posts/default/7143769904612093116'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buddingviolet.blogspot.com/2011/01/blog-post.html' title='Courtesy of Postsecret.com'/><author><name>Angie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13343787859995799488</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YTu9cbydh4M/TTeCCu8vCNI/AAAAAAAAH2o/fNYX7IRub2Q/s1600-R/cauliflower_purple_cape.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_a7jkcMVp5Vg/TR_3oABYGFI/AAAAAAAAN00/ooOyOwbHZN0/s72-c/%2524mas.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7075648795761456017.post-6255900969756073333</id><published>2010-12-20T19:55:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2010-12-20T19:55:52.190-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Ho hum</title><content type='html'>Didn't leave the house for three days. Then got over it. Sort of. I'm still stressed, but perhaps I'm handling it better?&lt;br /&gt;Medical procedure went well. They knocked me out. It was awesome.&lt;br /&gt;Now it seems I've caught a stomach flu thingie. Been unable to eat much for the past three days. Being a girl who loves food, this is quite disappointing. Everything makes me want to throw up. Was able to keep down plain boiled potatoes and pasta today. That's about it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wondering who still reads this. Kinda hoping that no one does anymore. I haven't told anyone that I started writing here again, and after such a long hiatus it's possible that this little corner of the web is forgotten for good. Who knows if I'll keep updating regularly. Life isn't too interesting these days.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7075648795761456017-6255900969756073333?l=buddingviolet.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7075648795761456017/posts/default/6255900969756073333'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7075648795761456017/posts/default/6255900969756073333'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buddingviolet.blogspot.com/2010/12/ho-hum.html' title='Ho hum'/><author><name>Angie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13343787859995799488</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YTu9cbydh4M/TTeCCu8vCNI/AAAAAAAAH2o/fNYX7IRub2Q/s1600-R/cauliflower_purple_cape.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7075648795761456017.post-7517818955940805085</id><published>2010-12-14T01:28:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2010-12-14T01:28:42.749-05:00</updated><title type='text'>FML</title><content type='html'>When it rains it fucking pours.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just put my boyfriend's acoustic bass on the stand only to have it fall over. It's fallen over before, and it's usually fine. But this time, this one time, the neck breaks. Not just a crack, a full break. The bass is in two pieces. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is bad. I'm up right now on the couch feeling immense guilt for something that was an accident. It's a fitting end to a long string of unfortunate events.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I lost my wallet on Friday night. But perhaps I should go back one week.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That was when I had my annual checkup. My routine checkup didn't bring back routine results and now I have a procedure scheduled for next Saturday. I found this out on the day of an exam for one of the classes I'm currently throwing money down the drain for. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The exam didn't go well, and I spend much of last week moping around.&lt;br /&gt;Oh yes, our TV also decided to go haywire. Luckily that's still under warranty and will hopefully be fixed tomorrow, a week and a half after we called the problem in.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So on Friday, I finally decided to push myself out of my slump. I needed to take drastic measures. So I cut all my hair off. It was about seven inches. It felt amazing. I decided to take all my cash and all my cards to the hair salon because I wasn't sure what I'd be doing afterward and wanted to be prepared. &lt;br /&gt;The haircut felt so cathartic that I wanted to celebrate a bit. I hadn't seen my friends in a while either. So I went to happy hour where I spent a minimal amount of cash on dirty Kettle One martinis. It felt really good to be out.&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All was right with the world until I discovered on Saturday morning that I didn't come home with my wallet. I distinctly remember picking it up from the bar. I walked half a block to the car. &amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I feel really irresponsible. I feel punished. I don't feel like a woman about to turn 30. I have been religously checking my bank and CC accounts online, and so far no fraudulent charges have occurred. I am hoping that the wallet finds its way back to me. I keep asking myself why I had EVERY card with me that night. ID, bank card, credit cards, library card, wholesalers club card, laundry card (Seriously, WTF??), health insurance cards, college ID.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm scheduled to be working on Saturday. I can't do it because of the procedure, for which I have to pay out of pocket twice the amount of money I'd be earning that day. I may also be missing work on Sunday, depending on how I feel. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Plus, Christmas presents need to be bought. I have never felt so hopeless about money. I have my days, but this, this fucking shitstorm is really taking everything out of me. And to top everything off, I just broke his bass.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7075648795761456017-7517818955940805085?l=buddingviolet.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buddingviolet.blogspot.com/feeds/7517818955940805085/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://buddingviolet.blogspot.com/2010/12/fml.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7075648795761456017/posts/default/7517818955940805085'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7075648795761456017/posts/default/7517818955940805085'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buddingviolet.blogspot.com/2010/12/fml.html' title='FML'/><author><name>Angie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13343787859995799488</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YTu9cbydh4M/TTeCCu8vCNI/AAAAAAAAH2o/fNYX7IRub2Q/s1600-R/cauliflower_purple_cape.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7075648795761456017.post-8651550452103962800</id><published>2010-12-08T09:53:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2010-12-08T09:53:20.925-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Aspirations'/><title type='text'>Integrals and derivatives</title><content type='html'>Here's one of life's little surprises: This girl right here doesn't want the dream she thought she wanted.&lt;br /&gt;Ugh, I hate writing in the third person. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm closing in on 30 and I feel more and more like an 18 year old everyday. Confused about life and where it's headed. It's always the same thing. What do I want to be when I grow up? &lt;br /&gt;I figured I'd give the teaching thing a try. Would go to grad school for a masters in middle school math. But first, I needed a few undergrad math credits. So I took two math classes at a local college.&lt;br /&gt;Well, I figured out that I don't like taking math classes. Especially advance ones with anal professors who insist that you remember all the calculus you learned way back in 2000 when you first attempted to be a math major.&lt;br /&gt;On the plus side, that dream is dead. No more imagining the possibilities. I got that s*#@ out of my system.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7075648795761456017-8651550452103962800?l=buddingviolet.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buddingviolet.blogspot.com/feeds/8651550452103962800/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://buddingviolet.blogspot.com/2010/12/integrals-and-derivatives.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7075648795761456017/posts/default/8651550452103962800'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7075648795761456017/posts/default/8651550452103962800'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buddingviolet.blogspot.com/2010/12/integrals-and-derivatives.html' title='Integrals and derivatives'/><author><name>Angie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13343787859995799488</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YTu9cbydh4M/TTeCCu8vCNI/AAAAAAAAH2o/fNYX7IRub2Q/s1600-R/cauliflower_purple_cape.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7075648795761456017.post-7643655866595391219</id><published>2010-10-20T19:17:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2010-10-20T19:17:29.671-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Motherhood'/><title type='text'>Toddler</title><content type='html'>We bought TWO red Ikea end tables a while back, because for some reason we thought that what the apartment &lt;i&gt;really&lt;/i&gt; needs is more tables. I think that I thought it and then talked S into it. We ended up having a dining room table, 2 end tables, and two coffee tables, all in our living room. We have subsequently gotten rid of one coffee table and the dining room table (and chairs). They are currently residing at my parents house. The end tables have been moved around a few times, as we have been making more and more room for the massive amount of toys that have been creeping into our lives. We realized that the end table is sized perfectly as a kid's table. So yesterday S went to Ikea and bought two red&amp;nbsp;miniature&amp;nbsp;chairs. And today at lunch Z sat at his very own table on his very own chair and ate a meal.&amp;nbsp;It was really spectacular. Moments like these are really what make life wonderful. A year ago he couldn't lift up his head. Now he's sitting on a chair (without the aid of a 5-point harness) eating by himself, drinking water from his sippy cup.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, and he's WALKING! Somehow that doesn't leave as big an impression on me as the eating thing. Perhaps because it's been a progression. He's been slowly replacing crawling with walking. A few steps there, a few steps here, and before we knew it, he's walking from one end of the apartment to the other, like he's been doing so all his life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have always had an irrational fear of death. Perhaps it's because I don't believe in an afterlife. Death is the End of life. And that saddens me. But I think that if I were to die tomorrow, I'd be okay with it. My life, up to this point, is everything I have ever hoped for. Sure, there are more children to bear, a career to figure out, &amp;nbsp;and a heck of a lot more roads to travel. And the rest of my life to live out. But should disaster strike, I have no regrets.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7075648795761456017-7643655866595391219?l=buddingviolet.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buddingviolet.blogspot.com/feeds/7643655866595391219/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://buddingviolet.blogspot.com/2010/10/toddler.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7075648795761456017/posts/default/7643655866595391219'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7075648795761456017/posts/default/7643655866595391219'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buddingviolet.blogspot.com/2010/10/toddler.html' title='Toddler'/><author><name>Angie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13343787859995799488</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YTu9cbydh4M/TTeCCu8vCNI/AAAAAAAAH2o/fNYX7IRub2Q/s1600-R/cauliflower_purple_cape.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7075648795761456017.post-906515854231108410</id><published>2010-10-13T22:59:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2010-10-13T22:59:54.091-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Motherhood'/><title type='text'>Milk</title><content type='html'>My son turned one this past weekend. I've started weaning him from breastfeeding, even though he's not ready. It makes me feel guilty because baby-led weaning really is best, and I feel like I'm denying him more of the immunities that come from mother's milk. But I selfishly need to get my body back to a state of normalcy. I'm going to miss the intimacy of breastfeeding, but at least I made it one year, which will hopefully give him some edge over peaky colds and diseases.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The transition to cow's milk has not been difficult, although I feel like we've taken a small step back. He drinks water from a sippy cup, but because it's not as easy to drink from one, (as opposed to a nippled bottle) he doesn't drink as much liquid. 16-24 ounces of cow's milk is recommended daily, so I've been giving him milk in a bottle. I'm hoping to transition him to a cup once he's completely weaned.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The one year mark is an important one for me. I've devoted the last year of my life to my son, and I wouldn't have it any other way. But financially, we are struggling. And it's time for me to get off my ass.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7075648795761456017-906515854231108410?l=buddingviolet.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buddingviolet.blogspot.com/feeds/906515854231108410/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://buddingviolet.blogspot.com/2010/10/milk.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7075648795761456017/posts/default/906515854231108410'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7075648795761456017/posts/default/906515854231108410'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buddingviolet.blogspot.com/2010/10/milk.html' title='Milk'/><author><name>Angie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13343787859995799488</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YTu9cbydh4M/TTeCCu8vCNI/AAAAAAAAH2o/fNYX7IRub2Q/s1600-R/cauliflower_purple_cape.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7075648795761456017.post-1367901316499093601</id><published>2010-10-03T12:07:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2010-10-03T12:07:07.154-04:00</updated><title type='text'>What if?</title><content type='html'>I should at this very moment be figuring out the volume of a parallelepiped using the cross product. Baby and baby daddy are staying away so that I can get my "studying" done.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe all my blogging has emerged from an intense need to procrastinate whenever a deadline is looming. Ha!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wonder constantly if the path I'm taking is the right one. I'm going to need to get into debt again. I hate debt. Unlike most Americans it seems. There's this commercial for one of those superstores. The woman is going to buy a Wii and wants to pay it by splitting the cost among several credit cards. But her friend happily informs her that there's now layaway! So, in addition to the umpteen credit card bills she most likely pays the minimum balance on every month, she's got that new layaway bill to pay. Ah, the American Dream: To buy whatever you want, whenever you want it, regardless of the&amp;nbsp;escalating&amp;nbsp;cost and impact on your future.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Is my path a Wii? Is it some pipe dream that's going to get me into debt and the realization that maybe I'm not cut out for this career path anyway? I think about that everytime I sit in a multivariable calculus class and the prof breezes past a topic I should already know, and in some corner of my brain do know, but haven't accessed in 10 years. I'm rusty. I think about going back to accounting, about suffering through it, because I don't want to get into debt, and because the stability of a 401K and good health insurance is what's best for me and my son right now. I wonder that maybe I'm being too selfish.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What if I fail? What if I succeed and hate it?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7075648795761456017-1367901316499093601?l=buddingviolet.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buddingviolet.blogspot.com/feeds/1367901316499093601/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://buddingviolet.blogspot.com/2010/10/what-if.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7075648795761456017/posts/default/1367901316499093601'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7075648795761456017/posts/default/1367901316499093601'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buddingviolet.blogspot.com/2010/10/what-if.html' title='What if?'/><author><name>Angie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13343787859995799488</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YTu9cbydh4M/TTeCCu8vCNI/AAAAAAAAH2o/fNYX7IRub2Q/s1600-R/cauliflower_purple_cape.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7075648795761456017.post-1146026426006558810</id><published>2010-09-27T01:06:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2010-09-27T01:06:35.177-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Done, and Done?</title><content type='html'>Done with the writing all together. Inspiration isn't there. Writing (for me at least) requires a loose grip on reality, and I'm so grounded that it's an effort to let go. Perhaps it is for this very reason that I should be writing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Creative focus has shifted to cooking. Would consider culinary school (pastry school actually) if it didn't cost so much. And lead to a job with long hours. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Have started the school thing. Was nervous at first, but am in the groove now. Am sad about getting&amp;nbsp; back into debt. Must think of it as an investment.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;An ex-coworker was killed a week ago while riding his shiny new motorcycle on the West Side Highway. He was 27. I worked with him. He was brilliant and it was an absolute tragedy. Perhaps its unfair to blame the motorcycle, but I keep thinking that if he was not on it, he'd be alive today. I think about his poor family and wonder if I can keep my own child protected forever.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Perhaps I'm not done with the writing all together. But it's not something I make the time for anymore. It's 1am on a Sunday and the house is asleep. I should be getting back to these matrix equations. They are not going to solve themselves.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Perhaps the next snippet will be in a month or two. Don't hold your breath.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7075648795761456017-1146026426006558810?l=buddingviolet.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buddingviolet.blogspot.com/feeds/1146026426006558810/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://buddingviolet.blogspot.com/2010/09/done-and-done.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7075648795761456017/posts/default/1146026426006558810'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7075648795761456017/posts/default/1146026426006558810'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buddingviolet.blogspot.com/2010/09/done-and-done.html' title='Done, and Done?'/><author><name>Angie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13343787859995799488</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YTu9cbydh4M/TTeCCu8vCNI/AAAAAAAAH2o/fNYX7IRub2Q/s1600-R/cauliflower_purple_cape.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7075648795761456017.post-8781670728936761429</id><published>2010-04-20T06:35:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2010-04-20T06:35:59.655-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Baby Z'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Travels'/><title type='text'>Back in the USSA</title><content type='html'>S and I came back to NY this weekend and have both been really sick. S has it the worse since he's got body aches. He slept all day yesterday. Thankfully, Z hasn't caught it (yet.) I'd really hate for this first bout of sickness to be this horrible virus we brought back from Thailand. S has been staying away from him and I've been trying to have as little contact with him as possible. Luckily he's ok playing on the playmat by himself. Been washing my hands a lot. I'm breastfeeding, and hopefully the immunities will help stave off the virus. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;His week with my mom and dad went very well. We were able to use Skype to video conference with them a few times, and that was great. It's amazing to me that a phone call from the US to Thailand costs more than video conferencing (free w/ our hotel's wifi connection.) Z is now sitting up all by himself, and is getting on his hands and&amp;nbsp;knees. He's still wobbly and not really moving yet but it's&amp;nbsp;definitely a milestone! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thailand was damn awesome. I'll write more about my trip when my head isn't so foggy.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7075648795761456017-8781670728936761429?l=buddingviolet.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buddingviolet.blogspot.com/feeds/8781670728936761429/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://buddingviolet.blogspot.com/2010/04/back-in-ussa.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7075648795761456017/posts/default/8781670728936761429'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7075648795761456017/posts/default/8781670728936761429'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buddingviolet.blogspot.com/2010/04/back-in-ussa.html' title='Back in the USSA'/><author><name>Angie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13343787859995799488</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YTu9cbydh4M/TTeCCu8vCNI/AAAAAAAAH2o/fNYX7IRub2Q/s1600-R/cauliflower_purple_cape.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7075648795761456017.post-765600736220732881</id><published>2010-04-12T03:17:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2010-04-12T03:17:50.165-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Short wait in Hong Kong before connecting to Bangkok. I left my baby behind. It was relatively painless. He's in good, capable hands.&lt;br /&gt;I bought a manual pump to take on the trip so that I can keep up my breast milk supply. I can't save it, because of the long flight, and because we'll be moving around a lot in Thailand. It's such a waste pouring good milk down the drain. I pumped in the airplane bathroom. Felt bad b/c it took a while, and when I came out, the line was really long. Well, I had no choice. It's not like there's a pumping station on the plane.&lt;br /&gt;There were several infants on board and for an instant I felt guilty for not taking Z along. That guilt went away when I heard the screams. I would not be able to handle my child screaming like that. He's better off with my overprotective mom.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Flight's boarding!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7075648795761456017-765600736220732881?l=buddingviolet.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buddingviolet.blogspot.com/feeds/765600736220732881/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://buddingviolet.blogspot.com/2010/04/short-wait-in-hong-kong-before.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7075648795761456017/posts/default/765600736220732881'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7075648795761456017/posts/default/765600736220732881'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buddingviolet.blogspot.com/2010/04/short-wait-in-hong-kong-before.html' title=''/><author><name>Angie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13343787859995799488</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YTu9cbydh4M/TTeCCu8vCNI/AAAAAAAAH2o/fNYX7IRub2Q/s1600-R/cauliflower_purple_cape.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7075648795761456017.post-1285748746366430110</id><published>2010-04-08T17:40:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2010-04-08T17:40:58.358-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Thoughts'/><title type='text'>Weight</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;The heaviest of burdens is simultaneously an image of life's most intense fulfillment. The heavier the burden, the closer our lives come to the earth, the more real and truthful they become. Conversely, the absolute absence of a burden causes man to be lighter than air, to soar into new heights, take leave of the earth and his earthly being, and become only half real, his movements as free as they are insignificant. What then shall we choose? Weight or lightness? - &lt;/em&gt;Milan Kundera&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;S left for Thailand this morning and I feel like I'm missing something. That's the only way to describe it. It's strrange not being able to communicate with him. Even when we are apart, we are constantly texting and calling each other. I miss sending him silly texts about the trivial stuff. At the moment he's been in the air for seven hours, and will be for another 10. I knew I'd miss him, but I didn't think it would be this extensive. I thought baby Z would be a distracttion. But there's no distraction from the fact that our little family is missing a major component. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Unbearable Lightness of Being talks about choosing&amp;nbsp;a life of&amp;nbsp;lightness or weight. There used to be a time when I didn't know which direction I wanted my life to go. I felt truly weightless a few years ago, when I left it all behind and fit everything I needed in a backpack. Now, I am weighed down. The responsibilities, the bills, the car, the relationship, the kid. These are all welcome burdens. I feel connected. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe that will change. Nothing is infinite. We are continuously reincarnating ourselves, changing directions, changing plans. But right now, in this moment, I am so grateful for this burden.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7075648795761456017-1285748746366430110?l=buddingviolet.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buddingviolet.blogspot.com/feeds/1285748746366430110/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://buddingviolet.blogspot.com/2010/04/weight.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7075648795761456017/posts/default/1285748746366430110'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7075648795761456017/posts/default/1285748746366430110'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buddingviolet.blogspot.com/2010/04/weight.html' title='Weight'/><author><name>Angie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13343787859995799488</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YTu9cbydh4M/TTeCCu8vCNI/AAAAAAAAH2o/fNYX7IRub2Q/s1600-R/cauliflower_purple_cape.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7075648795761456017.post-7148280036680007648</id><published>2010-04-05T09:33:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2010-04-05T09:33:07.299-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Motherhood'/><title type='text'>When the parents are away...</title><content type='html'>My mom is taking care of my child for a week and I am scared. Not for his safety, I'm 100% sure he's going to be in one piece when we return. I'm afraid he's going to be a whiny brat when she gives him back. &lt;br /&gt;The thing is, we have been lucky and have the least fussy baby in the universe. He doesn't need constant attention, and only gets a little pouty when he's hungry. As long as this baby is well fed, he's perfect. We have been nurturing this by letting him play by himself. I put him in his exer-saucer and walk away, or sit him on the floor (propped up by his boppy so he doesn't fall over) and out his toys in front of him. We put him to bed while he's still awake and let him self-soothe, and fall asleep on his own. We take him everywhere. He's been to dinner, to happy hour at bars, he's been held by&amp;nbsp;random strangers, he's even&amp;nbsp;been to one of his father's rock shows. I fully understand that you can not do this with 99% of the babies out there. I am aware of how easy we have it, how lucky we are. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My mother can not leave my child alone for more than 2 minutes. She is constantly holding him. If someone else (like my dad) is holding him, she can go about 10 minutes before she takes him back. She hovers. She is constantly trying to entertain him. She puts him to sleep in her arms. No amount of reasoning with her is working. She smiles and nods, but does not follow through. So I'm worried that all the training that S and I have put in will be lost during the&amp;nbsp;week we are not around him. They say that it takes 3 days to make a habit. What will seven days do?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hope that at some point (by the second day or so) my mom will realize that she needs to shower and has to put him down. She'll realize that, right?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7075648795761456017-7148280036680007648?l=buddingviolet.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buddingviolet.blogspot.com/feeds/7148280036680007648/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://buddingviolet.blogspot.com/2010/04/when-parents-are-away.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7075648795761456017/posts/default/7148280036680007648'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7075648795761456017/posts/default/7148280036680007648'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buddingviolet.blogspot.com/2010/04/when-parents-are-away.html' title='When the parents are away...'/><author><name>Angie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13343787859995799488</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YTu9cbydh4M/TTeCCu8vCNI/AAAAAAAAH2o/fNYX7IRub2Q/s1600-R/cauliflower_purple_cape.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7075648795761456017.post-3613157905788009342</id><published>2010-04-04T12:19:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2010-04-04T12:19:04.815-04:00</updated><title type='text'>The hunt</title><content type='html'>I've been actively looking for a job. My timing is shitty, with the economy being what it is. No one is hiring, and the ones who are can be and are very selective. I'm not even pretending that I can come even close to the salary I was making before. Plus my resume is weird. I have been meeting with lots of recruiters, but it's all the same story. "The job market is just tough right now, but we'll let you know!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To top it off, S is not having a good month. There was a major issue at one of his biggest clients. So, we are just watching the bills pile up, hoping that something works out for either of us. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At this point, we are putting groceries on credit cards, and its not by choice. I should be worried, and some days it gets me down. But I can't help but be happy. It's just enough to know that we have each other. My little nuclear family is healthy and safe, and at the end of the day, that's what matters to me. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I read a book, &lt;a href="http://www.notesoncooking.com/"&gt;Notes on Cooking&lt;/a&gt;. It's not a cook book, just short bullet points giving tips and techniques. (Another happy side effect of not having disposable income: rediscovering the library.) One of the points that stuck with me: "Revel in the mundane." It was referring to the chores, like washing dishes or prepping vegetables. Doing these repetative tasks frees your mind. There isn't much thinking involved in peeling potatoes, and you can let your mind wonder. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've started applying this line of thinking to my life outside of the kitchen as well. Life isn't always exciting or spontanous. But in those mundane moments, great things can happen.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7075648795761456017-3613157905788009342?l=buddingviolet.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buddingviolet.blogspot.com/feeds/3613157905788009342/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://buddingviolet.blogspot.com/2010/04/hunt.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7075648795761456017/posts/default/3613157905788009342'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7075648795761456017/posts/default/3613157905788009342'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buddingviolet.blogspot.com/2010/04/hunt.html' title='The hunt'/><author><name>Angie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13343787859995799488</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YTu9cbydh4M/TTeCCu8vCNI/AAAAAAAAH2o/fNYX7IRub2Q/s1600-R/cauliflower_purple_cape.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7075648795761456017.post-667233613704241232</id><published>2010-03-31T11:57:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2010-03-31T11:57:37.929-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Friends'/><title type='text'>Friendship lost</title><content type='html'>In the process of reclaiming this blog. That is, giving Baby Z his own space on the internet so that I can get back to writing about me. It's tricky right now because we're having computer issues. Stay tuned for his big blog reveal! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;====================================================&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have been going though a friendship breakup. I went through the classic signs.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Denial:&lt;/b&gt; Just because my life is different now does not mean I can't still have the same friends! Friendships are not meant to end. Maybe we are just entering another phase of our friendship.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Anger: &lt;/b&gt;Yeh, the phase where I call and call and get no response.That's really fair! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Bargaining:&lt;/b&gt; Maybe if I just wait it out. She'll come around.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Doubt&lt;/b&gt;: What did I do? What did I not do? Why won't she call? &lt;br /&gt;And finally &lt;b&gt;acceptance&lt;/b&gt; came when I finally allowed myself to be in control again. Waiting around for someone's friendship is just as bad as pining away for the captain of the football team. At some point you pull your head out of the clouds and deal with the fact that friendships, like relationships, need nurturing, and two people who are equally committed to making it work.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;“This is my wish for you: Comfort on difficult days, smiles when sadness intrudes, rainbows to follow the clouds, laughter to kiss your lips, sunsets to warm your heart, hugs when spirits sag, beauty for your eyes to see, friendships to brighten your being, faith so that you can believe, confidence for when you doubt, courage to know yourself, patience to accept the truth, love to complement your life.”&lt;/i&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7075648795761456017-667233613704241232?l=buddingviolet.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buddingviolet.blogspot.com/feeds/667233613704241232/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://buddingviolet.blogspot.com/2010/03/friendship-lost.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7075648795761456017/posts/default/667233613704241232'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7075648795761456017/posts/default/667233613704241232'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buddingviolet.blogspot.com/2010/03/friendship-lost.html' title='Friendship lost'/><author><name>Angie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13343787859995799488</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YTu9cbydh4M/TTeCCu8vCNI/AAAAAAAAH2o/fNYX7IRub2Q/s1600-R/cauliflower_purple_cape.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7075648795761456017.post-4703916605782776509</id><published>2010-03-18T10:33:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2010-03-18T10:33:34.763-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Asparagus pee</title><content type='html'>I guess this is why there is no asparagus baby food sold in a jar. Pediatrician recommended that we give Z more veggies, as I've been feeding him more fruits. (This is b/c I've been making it myself, and fruits are just easier since there's no cooking involved.) So I steamed some asparagus and put it in the chopper. At first he wasn't thrilled by it, and I even had to mix the last few bites with apple sauce. But I think it was more because it was warm, and he's used to food being room temperature, because he ate up the second serving and wanted more.&lt;br /&gt;And now, we know exactly when he's peed in his diaper because the smell is so, so strong. He's getting changed a lot more frequently today!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7075648795761456017-4703916605782776509?l=buddingviolet.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buddingviolet.blogspot.com/feeds/4703916605782776509/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://buddingviolet.blogspot.com/2010/03/asparagus-pee.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7075648795761456017/posts/default/4703916605782776509'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7075648795761456017/posts/default/4703916605782776509'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buddingviolet.blogspot.com/2010/03/asparagus-pee.html' title='Asparagus pee'/><author><name>Angie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13343787859995799488</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YTu9cbydh4M/TTeCCu8vCNI/AAAAAAAAH2o/fNYX7IRub2Q/s1600-R/cauliflower_purple_cape.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7075648795761456017.post-3248457537547203248</id><published>2010-03-16T22:50:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2010-03-16T22:50:00.705-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Fifth month</title><content type='html'>5th month check-up today.&lt;br /&gt;Weight: 16 1/2 pounds (75th percentile)&lt;br /&gt;Height: 27 1/2 inches (90th percentile)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pediatrician was impressed with his sitting and grasping skills. Afterward, we took the subway into the city and visited the two grandmothers at work. They were very pleased to be able to show off the grand-baby to their co-workers.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At the moment Z is sticking his big toe in his mouth and sucking it like a thumb. And it's the cutest thing I've ever seen.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7075648795761456017-3248457537547203248?l=buddingviolet.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buddingviolet.blogspot.com/feeds/3248457537547203248/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://buddingviolet.blogspot.com/2010/03/fifth-month.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7075648795761456017/posts/default/3248457537547203248'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7075648795761456017/posts/default/3248457537547203248'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buddingviolet.blogspot.com/2010/03/fifth-month.html' title='Fifth month'/><author><name>Angie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13343787859995799488</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YTu9cbydh4M/TTeCCu8vCNI/AAAAAAAAH2o/fNYX7IRub2Q/s1600-R/cauliflower_purple_cape.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7075648795761456017.post-2738708109872532063</id><published>2010-03-14T23:19:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2010-03-14T23:19:55.586-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Baby Z'/><title type='text'>5 months</title><content type='html'>Having a child forces you (well, me at least) to think of your own mortality. You welcome this responsibility, and want to be there to guide them through the milestones of life. I've never been a person who takes risks, but now I think even more about the dangers of life, and about how it can all come to an end. Just. Like. That. I drive more cautiously, and think quite often about worst case scenarios, no matter how remote.&lt;br /&gt;So, S and I are going to Thailand in April for a friend's wedding. He leaves a few days before I do. My mom is all set (and excited) to watch Z for the week. We come back on the same flight. I naturally think about what would happen if something happened to us on the flight back.&lt;br /&gt;Ah, but even that possibility is too much for me to dwell on. Although the thought of my son growing up without his parents upsets me more that the thought of me dying.&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, there is a lot that goes into leaving your 6 month old child for a week. He's eating solids now, but his primary nutrition still comes from breastmilk. I have to ensure that I have pumped enough to last the seven days, and also that my supply doesn't go down from not breastfeeding for those 7 days. I plan on purchasing a manual pump and hope that I am able to pump regularly while in Thailand. I don't plan on keeping the milk, since it's probably going to go bad during the 22 hour journey back to the US. It's going to be such a waste of superb breastmilk.&lt;br /&gt;I also have to mentally prepare myself for the separation. Right now, I have no clue how I'm getting on that plane without my son. (And no, bringing him wasn't a feasible possibility.) I have one month to work on the separation anxiety.&lt;br /&gt;=========================================&lt;br /&gt;In other news, Z is knocking those milestones right out of the park. He's a great eater, and, luckily, seems to prefer savory to sweet. He'll eat butternut squash with glee, but makes faces when I try to feed him pear. He's sitting up on his own, and interacts with his toys. He loves hitting objects with his hands. It's a joy to watch him hit the keys on his toy piano, xylophone and drums.&amp;nbsp; S's passion is music, and Z is going to play at least one instrument. At least. &lt;br /&gt;Now that the weather is warmer, we have been taking more walks, particularly to the local library branches. My passion is books, and Z will have a library card as soon as he says his first word. Which will be mama. Or papa.&lt;br /&gt;We are lovingly pushing our agendas on Z. If nothing else, he will be a well rounded child.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7075648795761456017-2738708109872532063?l=buddingviolet.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buddingviolet.blogspot.com/feeds/2738708109872532063/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://buddingviolet.blogspot.com/2010/03/5-months.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7075648795761456017/posts/default/2738708109872532063'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7075648795761456017/posts/default/2738708109872532063'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buddingviolet.blogspot.com/2010/03/5-months.html' title='5 months'/><author><name>Angie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13343787859995799488</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YTu9cbydh4M/TTeCCu8vCNI/AAAAAAAAH2o/fNYX7IRub2Q/s1600-R/cauliflower_purple_cape.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7075648795761456017.post-6829549035509130077</id><published>2010-02-27T09:15:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2010-02-27T09:15:34.676-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='video'/><title type='text'>Solids!</title><content type='html'>&lt;object height="364" width="445"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/gjYUmMk_yms&amp;hl=en_US&amp;fs=1&amp;rel=0&amp;border=1"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/gjYUmMk_yms&amp;hl=en_US&amp;fs=1&amp;rel=0&amp;border=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="445" height="364"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We first tried to feed Z solids at 4 months and he just pushed it out of his mouth. We tried again 2 weeks later and he loved it! Been feeding him rice cereal mixed with breast milk and he eats it up with great satisfaction. Yum!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7075648795761456017-6829549035509130077?l=buddingviolet.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buddingviolet.blogspot.com/feeds/6829549035509130077/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://buddingviolet.blogspot.com/2010/02/solids.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7075648795761456017/posts/default/6829549035509130077'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7075648795761456017/posts/default/6829549035509130077'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buddingviolet.blogspot.com/2010/02/solids.html' title='Solids!'/><author><name>Angie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13343787859995799488</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YTu9cbydh4M/TTeCCu8vCNI/AAAAAAAAH2o/fNYX7IRub2Q/s1600-R/cauliflower_purple_cape.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7075648795761456017.post-6232277201214023836</id><published>2010-02-05T00:25:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2010-02-05T00:25:19.203-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Baby Z'/><title type='text'>Early Potty Training</title><content type='html'>I wonder about following practices just because they are popular as opposed to logical. That's one of the main reasons I chose to give birth naturally, without the drugs. I can understand why this seems strange to the majority of the country, because of its popular and its been working then it must be the right way. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;While I was pregnant I came across this &lt;a href="http://diaperfreebaby.com/"&gt;website&lt;/a&gt; about elimination communication. At the time, S and I had a good laugh. On the surface it seemed that the practice was to have your infant without diapers and clean up after him. The whole idea of "sensing" when he has to go to the bathroom and getting him there in time seemed a little ridiculous.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After Z was born I came across this idea once again. This time I did more research. In the US, children are potty trained after the age of 2, and 1/3 of children are not trained by age 3. Disposable diapers are now made to accommodate children up to 125 pounds. In contrast, the rest of the world's children are trained soon after they learn how to walk. This used to be the same in the US, until a paid spokesperson for the diaper industry "recommended" that disposable diapers should be used until the child was "ready" for the potty. These days, they say it's psychologically damaging to try to train your child too early. I say, what's really damaging is having your child, who at this point is able to walk, talk, and eat by himself, in a dirty diaper. To me it seems logical that if your child is able to communicate with you, and able to sit by himself, he is able to eliminate waste. At a certain point in a child's development, you're either teaching them to go in their diapers or you are teaching them to go in a toilet. I think that waiting to potty train only benefits the diaper industry.&lt;br /&gt;All this was just research until I talked to my mom. I was walking, talking, and potty trained by age 1. Her method? Taking me into the bathroom with her. She recommends starting around seven months, and I am inclined to agree.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Links are below. I really think it's worth taking a quick look. &lt;br /&gt;http://www.pottytraining.com.au/early_potty_training&lt;br /&gt;http://diaperfreebaby.com/&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7075648795761456017-6232277201214023836?l=buddingviolet.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buddingviolet.blogspot.com/feeds/6232277201214023836/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://buddingviolet.blogspot.com/2010/02/early-potty-training.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7075648795761456017/posts/default/6232277201214023836'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7075648795761456017/posts/default/6232277201214023836'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buddingviolet.blogspot.com/2010/02/early-potty-training.html' title='Early Potty Training'/><author><name>Angie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13343787859995799488</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YTu9cbydh4M/TTeCCu8vCNI/AAAAAAAAH2o/fNYX7IRub2Q/s1600-R/cauliflower_purple_cape.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7075648795761456017.post-3706012591903779739</id><published>2010-01-13T22:36:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2010-01-13T22:42:57.147-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Picture'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Baby Z'/><title type='text'>3 months and change</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://lh4.ggpht.com/_YTu9cbydh4M/S00_OLI6_7I/AAAAAAAAH0M/4a4mIUacG5c/s640/DSC04657-1.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 640px; height: 480px;" src="http://lh4.ggpht.com/_YTu9cbydh4M/S00_OLI6_7I/AAAAAAAAH0M/4a4mIUacG5c/s640/DSC04657-1.JPG" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well baby checkup today:&lt;div&gt;Weight: 13.5 pounds&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Height: 25 inches&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Got a shot in his butt. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'm excited b/c we get to start him on solids at 4 months, starting with rice cereal. Yummy! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;He's giggling and rolling over these days. Love him. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7075648795761456017-3706012591903779739?l=buddingviolet.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buddingviolet.blogspot.com/feeds/3706012591903779739/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://buddingviolet.blogspot.com/2010/01/3-months-and-change.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7075648795761456017/posts/default/3706012591903779739'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7075648795761456017/posts/default/3706012591903779739'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buddingviolet.blogspot.com/2010/01/3-months-and-change.html' title='3 months and change'/><author><name>Angie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13343787859995799488</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YTu9cbydh4M/TTeCCu8vCNI/AAAAAAAAH2o/fNYX7IRub2Q/s1600-R/cauliflower_purple_cape.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://lh4.ggpht.com/_YTu9cbydh4M/S00_OLI6_7I/AAAAAAAAH0M/4a4mIUacG5c/s72-c/DSC04657-1.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7075648795761456017.post-8803826042086087419</id><published>2009-12-31T10:38:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-12-31T10:47:47.297-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Aspirations'/><title type='text'>2010</title><content type='html'>New Year's Resolution: Get Shit Done. &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I feel like a new person every time I'm even a little bit productive. I finally, finally have a finished resume, at least if I was pursuing a job/career in the accounting field. The "Teaching/Tutoring" resume still needs works. As in, still needs to be created. Been slowly sending out the accounting resume to contacts and networks. Though I do so with a heavy hand. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The question remains the same. Did I really quit my job and career and go traipsing around the world just so that I could come right back to everything I ran away from? &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;No. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7075648795761456017-8803826042086087419?l=buddingviolet.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buddingviolet.blogspot.com/feeds/8803826042086087419/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://buddingviolet.blogspot.com/2009/12/2010.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7075648795761456017/posts/default/8803826042086087419'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7075648795761456017/posts/default/8803826042086087419'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buddingviolet.blogspot.com/2009/12/2010.html' title='2010'/><author><name>Angie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13343787859995799488</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YTu9cbydh4M/TTeCCu8vCNI/AAAAAAAAH2o/fNYX7IRub2Q/s1600-R/cauliflower_purple_cape.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7075648795761456017.post-6140710917931516654</id><published>2009-12-22T14:14:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-12-22T16:15:22.062-05:00</updated><title type='text'>My sleeper</title><content type='html'>One day Z decided that he wouldn't bother his mommy during the night anymore. He decided that he would go to sleep at 10 and not wake up until the sun came up. At first I thought we'd have to train him to do such a thing. S and I read &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="text-decoration: underline;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.amazon.com/Twelve-Hours-Sleep-Weeks-Step/dp/0525949593"&gt;12 hours sleep by 12 weeks old&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;. In it they talk about taking it step by step, gradually decreasing the amount you give him at nighttime feedings, while increasing the amount of time he does between feedings. It made sense. &lt;div&gt;But before we could even try out the techniques outlined in the book, Z skipped ahead of us and started sleeping through the night with no prompting from us. At this point, all we do is put him in his crib around 10, kiss him goodnight, turn on the mobile and night light, and walk away. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And this is how it has been with everything. He's a perfectly content baby, only unhappy when he's got a dirty diaper or needs to be fed. This has allowed S and I to regain a somewhat active social life. We can take him with us anywhere, because he doesn't get fussy. He's also just as calm at his grandparents houses, so we get to leave him when we are going to have a late night out. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7075648795761456017-6140710917931516654?l=buddingviolet.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buddingviolet.blogspot.com/feeds/6140710917931516654/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://buddingviolet.blogspot.com/2009/12/my-sleeper.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7075648795761456017/posts/default/6140710917931516654'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7075648795761456017/posts/default/6140710917931516654'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buddingviolet.blogspot.com/2009/12/my-sleeper.html' title='My sleeper'/><author><name>Angie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13343787859995799488</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YTu9cbydh4M/TTeCCu8vCNI/AAAAAAAAH2o/fNYX7IRub2Q/s1600-R/cauliflower_purple_cape.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7075648795761456017.post-132716237869815488</id><published>2009-12-02T12:48:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2009-12-02T13:32:25.202-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Picture'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='S'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Baby Z'/><title type='text'>Bliss</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;I try not to be completely unreasonable. The disagreements between S and I are so few and far between (I think this was the second) that we don't even know what each other's fighting styles are. I tend to clam up. I gain a lot of perspective by writing, much more than by talking, when I can easily say things I don't mean. Usually after some time alone I'm ready to forgive or apologize. Or both.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I spent last Tuesday in the Bronx with baby Z. Came home and forgave and forgot. Co-habitational bliss once more. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Z is 8 weeks tomorrow. He's becoming more and more aware of his surroundings. He's awake for longer periods throughout the day and sleeping longer and longer at night. This morning I went to his crib at 9am and found him staring with great interest at his mobile. I turned it on and he was fascinated by the music and movement.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Yesterday I took the subway into the city solo. It was the first time in months and months. Got a haircut. Actually, chopped about 10 inches off. It was damn liberating. Am also in the process of updating my resume and starting a hardcore job hunt. It's been five years since I interviewed for a job and I'm excited. It's nice to have something else on my plate besides dirty diapers. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YTu9cbydh4M/SxayHPvFbII/AAAAAAAAHto/mGsoJbvJkeg/s320/IMG_2420.JPG" style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5410707839885077634" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7075648795761456017-132716237869815488?l=buddingviolet.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buddingviolet.blogspot.com/feeds/132716237869815488/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://buddingviolet.blogspot.com/2009/12/bliss.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7075648795761456017/posts/default/132716237869815488'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7075648795761456017/posts/default/132716237869815488'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buddingviolet.blogspot.com/2009/12/bliss.html' title='Bliss'/><author><name>Angie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13343787859995799488</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YTu9cbydh4M/TTeCCu8vCNI/AAAAAAAAH2o/fNYX7IRub2Q/s1600-R/cauliflower_purple_cape.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YTu9cbydh4M/SxayHPvFbII/AAAAAAAAHto/mGsoJbvJkeg/s72-c/IMG_2420.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7075648795761456017.post-6706859775756499514</id><published>2009-11-24T12:38:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-11-24T12:52:36.265-05:00</updated><title type='text'>The post in which I air my dirty laundry</title><content type='html'>I'm a little lost. And a few things need to happen before I can find myself again. &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I need to move out of this goddamn neighborhood. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I need to be closer to my friends and the people who matter to me. Because having only one person at your side day in and day out breeds resentment. I can feel it brewing underneath the surface. It comes out subtly, in conversation and actions. No one should have to be my everything. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The incident, it wasn't anything much. At the very least didn't warrant my strong reaction. But I can feel what's going on under the surface. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;He did something without telling me. Because I was asleep. When I asked why he didn't wake me up, he said it was because he thought I'd stop him. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And the honest truth is, I don't know if I would have or not. I don't know if I've gone so far away from my self, the person I want to be and thought I was, that I now openly prevent others from doing the things they want to do. Have I really become that controlling? &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;More importantly, he sees me as that controlling. And therein lies the underlying issue. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So, moving. Because I need it to be easier to see my friends and family. I need perspective. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Also, finding a job. Becoming more financially independent. God, I need my independence back. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7075648795761456017-6706859775756499514?l=buddingviolet.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buddingviolet.blogspot.com/feeds/6706859775756499514/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://buddingviolet.blogspot.com/2009/11/post-in-which-i-air-my-dirty-laundry.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7075648795761456017/posts/default/6706859775756499514'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7075648795761456017/posts/default/6706859775756499514'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buddingviolet.blogspot.com/2009/11/post-in-which-i-air-my-dirty-laundry.html' title='The post in which I air my dirty laundry'/><author><name>Angie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13343787859995799488</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YTu9cbydh4M/TTeCCu8vCNI/AAAAAAAAH2o/fNYX7IRub2Q/s1600-R/cauliflower_purple_cape.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7075648795761456017.post-1807111748812022834</id><published>2009-11-19T20:09:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-11-19T21:13:26.560-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Motherhood'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Baby Z'/><title type='text'>Life with Z</title><content type='html'>Tried a few times but I can't seem to bang out a whole blog post because I keep on going back to where I left off, talking about the delivery and everything that followed, but then the blog gets too long and I lose interest or have to interrupt myself to go tend to Z. There are quite a few entries in draft form, and they're going to stay that way because I don't edit. &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So, I'm writing in bullet points. And this will probably not be in chronological order. But at least if I have to stop before I'm finished I can just finish off my bullet point and post. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Here goes:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;Z is 6 weeks old today. He's starting to cluster-feed in the evenings, and is getting fussy around this time as well. Clusterfeeding as in he constantly wants to be on the boob, and can't wait the customary 2-3 hours he normally does. At the moment he's on my chest, resting, not quite asleep, and will probably want to nurse again in another 15 minutes. I used to worry about this behavior, before I researched, before I found out that it's so common that it actually has a name. It happens in the evenings, before he goes to sleep for 5-6 hours straight. What's great is that he started sleeping for these long stretches at 4 weeks, without any training from us. We are the luckiest parents in the world. &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;He's an angel. And I'm not saying that because I'm his mother. I was prepared for the worst. I was prepared for constant crying, sleepless nights, and other terrible situations that new parents go through. What I go from the first second of his life outside the womb was a calm, Zen-like baby. When they took him up to the nursery he was the only child in there who was not screaming his head off. He was also bigger than most of the babies, but that's another bullet point. In the beginning all he did was sleep, eat and poop. He only cried (and cried is a strong word, whimper/whine are probably better descriptions) when he needed to be nursed. (He also latched onto my nipple right away, and has also not had any problems being fed expressed breast milk from any bottle.) &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;One of the ironic things is that I'm not a Zen mother. I constantly worried over him in the beginning. I didn't sleep the entire two days I spent in the hospital because I was way too nervous. I analyzed every detail. Everything seemed too perfect. I was constantly waiting for the other shoe to drop. I also experienced the  "baby blues" during the first two weeks, which did not make things any easier. I was constantly crying about nothing. I expected the mood swings, but I also worried that it would last longer and turn into post-partum depression. Luckily, my hormones normalized after two weeks and I started feeling like myself again. I also lost 30 pounds, and was back to my pre-pregnancy weight after two weeks. Yes, I'm a lucky, lucky gal. &lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7075648795761456017-1807111748812022834?l=buddingviolet.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buddingviolet.blogspot.com/feeds/1807111748812022834/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://buddingviolet.blogspot.com/2009/11/life-with-z.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7075648795761456017/posts/default/1807111748812022834'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7075648795761456017/posts/default/1807111748812022834'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buddingviolet.blogspot.com/2009/11/life-with-z.html' title='Life with Z'/><author><name>Angie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13343787859995799488</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YTu9cbydh4M/TTeCCu8vCNI/AAAAAAAAH2o/fNYX7IRub2Q/s1600-R/cauliflower_purple_cape.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7075648795761456017.post-4352339741610635977</id><published>2009-10-17T09:36:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2009-10-17T09:41:08.528-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Picture'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Baby Z'/><title type='text'>Hiatus</title><content type='html'>Writing elsewhere for a while. Clearing my head without feeling like I have to censor myself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Baby is beautiful and a joy to be around. Here he is at 1 week:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YTu9cbydh4M/StnJMB6XUhI/AAAAAAAAHsU/DhHjDhACRh0/s1600-h/7935_1235580739807_1537867459_614622_8359358_n.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YTu9cbydh4M/StnJMB6XUhI/AAAAAAAAHsU/DhHjDhACRh0/s400/7935_1235580739807_1537867459_614622_8359358_n.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5393563237261726226" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7075648795761456017-4352339741610635977?l=buddingviolet.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buddingviolet.blogspot.com/feeds/4352339741610635977/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://buddingviolet.blogspot.com/2009/10/hiatus.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7075648795761456017/posts/default/4352339741610635977'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7075648795761456017/posts/default/4352339741610635977'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buddingviolet.blogspot.com/2009/10/hiatus.html' title='Hiatus'/><author><name>Angie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13343787859995799488</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YTu9cbydh4M/TTeCCu8vCNI/AAAAAAAAH2o/fNYX7IRub2Q/s1600-R/cauliflower_purple_cape.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YTu9cbydh4M/StnJMB6XUhI/AAAAAAAAHsU/DhHjDhACRh0/s72-c/7935_1235580739807_1537867459_614622_8359358_n.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7075648795761456017.post-8173542582481338383</id><published>2009-10-09T00:00:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2009-10-09T00:05:34.421-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='natural childbirth'/><title type='text'>hes here</title><content type='html'>baby z was born at 3:55pm on oct 8th, two days b4 due date.&lt;br /&gt;i birthed all natural, no drugs. never felt better. no pain afterwards. i'm tired and sore and tore but im fine. baby z is so amazing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;will write more when im not tired&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7075648795761456017-8173542582481338383?l=buddingviolet.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buddingviolet.blogspot.com/feeds/8173542582481338383/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://buddingviolet.blogspot.com/2009/10/hes-here.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7075648795761456017/posts/default/8173542582481338383'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7075648795761456017/posts/default/8173542582481338383'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buddingviolet.blogspot.com/2009/10/hes-here.html' title='hes here'/><author><name>Angie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13343787859995799488</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YTu9cbydh4M/TTeCCu8vCNI/AAAAAAAAH2o/fNYX7IRub2Q/s1600-R/cauliflower_purple_cape.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7075648795761456017.post-5133458160424154283</id><published>2009-10-08T08:20:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2009-10-08T08:26:59.638-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='the final stretch'/><title type='text'>LABOR!</title><content type='html'>Contractions started at 5:30 this morning.&lt;br /&gt;Water broke at 7:30. It was a small gush. At first I thought I peed myself but it was a lot of liquid. I had S smell it b/c my nose is clogged. Not pee.&lt;br /&gt;Contractions are 10 minutes apart and mild&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Have appt with Dr. Pepper at noon. Think the plan is to go there at that time, have him confirm that I am indeed in labor. (It just seems too good to be true.) Then its off to my friend's upper east side apartment to labor in comfort until I get to 5-1-1 or 4-1-1. That is, when contractions are 5 or 4 minutes apart, lasting for 1 minute and have been consistent for 1 hour. At that point its off to the hospital.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm off to bake a cornbread and maybe some muffins.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7075648795761456017-5133458160424154283?l=buddingviolet.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buddingviolet.blogspot.com/feeds/5133458160424154283/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://buddingviolet.blogspot.com/2009/10/labor.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7075648795761456017/posts/default/5133458160424154283'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7075648795761456017/posts/default/5133458160424154283'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buddingviolet.blogspot.com/2009/10/labor.html' title='LABOR!'/><author><name>Angie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13343787859995799488</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YTu9cbydh4M/TTeCCu8vCNI/AAAAAAAAH2o/fNYX7IRub2Q/s1600-R/cauliflower_purple_cape.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7075648795761456017.post-4657955173375416975</id><published>2009-10-06T05:31:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2009-10-06T05:44:48.794-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='the final stretch'/><title type='text'>Sick</title><content type='html'>At the moment, it's 5:30 am and I'm up, drinking green tea and eating fruit. Nope, I'm not in labor, just trying to fight a cold. I spent the last couple of weeks staying away from everyone with a cold, which was pretty much everyone, period. However, S wasn't so cautious so he caught a cold, or maybe 2, since it seems like the past 2 weekends he's been sick, and now I have a cold. Five days before my due date.&lt;br /&gt;So, now I'm hoping to go into labor after the cold is gone. I can't imagine having to deal with a stuffy nose and contractions. Plus I don't want to hold my baby for the first time with any sort of infection.&lt;br /&gt;I should be over this thing by Thursday. *fingers crossed*&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7075648795761456017-4657955173375416975?l=buddingviolet.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buddingviolet.blogspot.com/feeds/4657955173375416975/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://buddingviolet.blogspot.com/2009/10/sick.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7075648795761456017/posts/default/4657955173375416975'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7075648795761456017/posts/default/4657955173375416975'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buddingviolet.blogspot.com/2009/10/sick.html' title='Sick'/><author><name>Angie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13343787859995799488</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YTu9cbydh4M/TTeCCu8vCNI/AAAAAAAAH2o/fNYX7IRub2Q/s1600-R/cauliflower_purple_cape.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7075648795761456017.post-1725295071348782899</id><published>2009-10-03T13:13:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2009-10-03T13:26:55.079-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Third Trimester'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='the final stretch'/><title type='text'>Closer and closer</title><content type='html'>Yesterday:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Spent the morning grocery shopping solo&lt;br /&gt;Lost my mucus plug&lt;br /&gt;Met S for a walk in Prospect Park&lt;br /&gt;Went out to a birthday dinner with a few of his friends&lt;br /&gt;Met a few of my friends at a bar for another birthday celebration&lt;br /&gt;Came home around 10:30, exhausted and with a pain in my lower back that wouldn't go away.&lt;br /&gt;Pain lasted all night. It was on the left side, the side I usually sleep on. I spent the night tossing and turning in pain, half hoping it was back labor, because I want to get this labor business over with, half hoping it wasn't, because I was too exhausted to efficiently deal with labor at that point.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The pain went away at some point in the early morning hours. I feel fine again. I don't want to feel fine. I would like to get this labor over with. Just when I think my stomach can't get any bigger, it does. I look ridiculous:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YTu9cbydh4M/SseIgl54h4I/AAAAAAAAHsM/Fr_PMjU5k6g/s1600-h/DSC04222.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YTu9cbydh4M/SseIgl54h4I/AAAAAAAAHsM/Fr_PMjU5k6g/s320/DSC04222.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5388425572684171138" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hopefully he'll come out at some point this week. My mom yesterday told me that I was overdue by two weeks! I'm hoping that this is because they didn't calculated correctly. I can't go to 42 weeks. The idea is just inconceivable.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7075648795761456017-1725295071348782899?l=buddingviolet.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buddingviolet.blogspot.com/feeds/1725295071348782899/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://buddingviolet.blogspot.com/2009/10/closer-and-closer.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7075648795761456017/posts/default/1725295071348782899'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7075648795761456017/posts/default/1725295071348782899'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buddingviolet.blogspot.com/2009/10/closer-and-closer.html' title='Closer and closer'/><author><name>Angie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13343787859995799488</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YTu9cbydh4M/TTeCCu8vCNI/AAAAAAAAH2o/fNYX7IRub2Q/s1600-R/cauliflower_purple_cape.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YTu9cbydh4M/SseIgl54h4I/AAAAAAAAHsM/Fr_PMjU5k6g/s72-c/DSC04222.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7075648795761456017.post-4663498337630357856</id><published>2009-10-01T23:27:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-10-01T23:33:57.994-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Third Trimester'/><title type='text'>39 weeks</title><content type='html'>I'm 1cm dialated (which is nothing) and a little bit effaced. Dr Pepper checked my cervix for the first time today and remarked that I have a nice pelvis. Baby Z is still sunny side up, but apparently it's not a big deal because my pelvis can handle it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think I'm going all the way to my due date. Even though my tummy is HUGE, Baby Z is a normal size baby. There's just a lot of fluid in there with him. As much as I want this over with, and want to move onto the next phase of this journey, I can wait until he's ready.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7075648795761456017-4663498337630357856?l=buddingviolet.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buddingviolet.blogspot.com/feeds/4663498337630357856/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://buddingviolet.blogspot.com/2009/10/39-weeks.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7075648795761456017/posts/default/4663498337630357856'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7075648795761456017/posts/default/4663498337630357856'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buddingviolet.blogspot.com/2009/10/39-weeks.html' title='39 weeks'/><author><name>Angie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13343787859995799488</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YTu9cbydh4M/TTeCCu8vCNI/AAAAAAAAH2o/fNYX7IRub2Q/s1600-R/cauliflower_purple_cape.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7075648795761456017.post-3708613073370889591</id><published>2009-09-25T11:28:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-09-25T13:47:50.617-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Third Trimester'/><title type='text'>Hospital Tour</title><content type='html'>On Monday we went on a maternity tour of the hospital I'll be delivering at. It really gave me a good idea of how the process would work. We didn't get to tour triage or the labor and delivery rooms, because they were all full. When they say that more babies are born in September than any other month, they weren't kidding!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As expected, the rate of women getting epidurals vs. going all natural was high: 80-90%. The cesarean rate is 40%. This is not a hospital that's natural-birth friendly. There are no bathtubs in the delivery rooms, and only some of them have showers. Once you're checked into the hospital, you are hooked up to IV lines and a monitor, although you can have your MD request that you be periodically taken off so that you can walk around. There are no battery powered monitors.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All of this is going to make it that much more difficult to birth naturally, and I shudder to think that I'll be spending the most intense part of labor on the hospital bed. But, I still fully believe that I can do this naturally, without drugs or an epidural. S and I have been preparing, getting all the essentials ready to go, both for me and for baby Z.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We also bought a car! We had been looking intensely for the last 2 weeks, and finally found the perfect little car for us. S doesn't have his driver's license yet, (not uncommon for someone who's lived in Brooklyn his whole life) but his road test is scheduled for the end of October.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We're seeing the doctor later this afternoon. I'm two weeks away from my due date, and I feel fine. I've been looking out for the signs that labor is impending, but so far I've just been feeling like myself, only rounder. My tummy is stretched to its limits, as I'm still carrying high, and all in front. So far, that's my only complaint, which isn't too bad. Easy breezy!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7075648795761456017-3708613073370889591?l=buddingviolet.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buddingviolet.blogspot.com/feeds/3708613073370889591/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://buddingviolet.blogspot.com/2009/09/hospital-tour.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7075648795761456017/posts/default/3708613073370889591'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7075648795761456017/posts/default/3708613073370889591'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buddingviolet.blogspot.com/2009/09/hospital-tour.html' title='Hospital Tour'/><author><name>Angie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13343787859995799488</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YTu9cbydh4M/TTeCCu8vCNI/AAAAAAAAH2o/fNYX7IRub2Q/s1600-R/cauliflower_purple_cape.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7075648795761456017.post-7860644919740331893</id><published>2009-09-18T12:26:00.005-04:00</published><updated>2009-09-18T21:44:00.853-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Third Trimester'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='natural childbirth'/><title type='text'>Full Term (37 weeks) tomorrow</title><content type='html'>Today I went out to Ikea and Fairway to pick up a few items. I guess the belly's grown larger because THREE people asked if I was having twins. I'm going to be optimistic and blame it on the dress I was wearing, because I really don't feel &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;that&lt;/span&gt; ginormous. And yesterday's OB visit revealed that baby Z is still under 7 pounds, so he's not that ridiculously big.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Have been getting prepared for the Big day, whenever it comes. I don't feel like it's going to be in my immediate future. I have at least a week to go. Worked out a birth/labor plan that just might work. I might have mentioned before that I was a little concerned about the distance between our apartment and the hospital. I don't want to get there too early, because I don't want to get tied to a bed, but I also don't want to give birth at the side of the road. Then I remembered that a friend of mine lives a few blocks from the hospital! I asked if I could use her apartment as a "labor center" where I could get through the early stages of labor in comfort before going to the hospital for the big moment. She happily agreed!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I bought a birthing ball and a few hot and cold compresses. From what I gather, bouncing on the ball, and doing the breathing exercises help to cope with the pain by getting you into a rhythm, and giving you something else to concentrate on. It was particularly helpful to speak with one of S's friends, a mother of a 1 year old, who birthed naturally and was strengthened by the experience. She reminded me that the contractions are just one minute apart, and you have to remember that they are going to end. In between the contractions there is a rush of adrenaline and other chemicals to the brain, so you feel really good! You just have to remember to live in the moment, and not concentrate on the future contractions. Talking to her left me with a boost of confidence, because she was able to deliver a 9.5 pound baby boy without a hitch. Also, because Dr Pepper loves reminding me that my son has a huge noggin, we've been doing nightly perineal massage to stretch out the Kegal muscle. No episiotomy for me!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I feel confident. Let's do this!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7075648795761456017-7860644919740331893?l=buddingviolet.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buddingviolet.blogspot.com/feeds/7860644919740331893/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://buddingviolet.blogspot.com/2009/09/full-term-37-weeks-tomorrow.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7075648795761456017/posts/default/7860644919740331893'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7075648795761456017/posts/default/7860644919740331893'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buddingviolet.blogspot.com/2009/09/full-term-37-weeks-tomorrow.html' title='Full Term (37 weeks) tomorrow'/><author><name>Angie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13343787859995799488</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YTu9cbydh4M/TTeCCu8vCNI/AAAAAAAAH2o/fNYX7IRub2Q/s1600-R/cauliflower_purple_cape.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7075648795761456017.post-6511917741257302992</id><published>2009-09-11T21:04:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-09-11T23:16:24.781-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Third Trimester'/><title type='text'>36 Weeks</title><content type='html'>Z is a very active being, and if I try hard enough, I can make out where his various body parts are positioned inside my abdomen. The best is when he kicks, and I can feel his foot moving along my abdomen. It makes me feel connected to the life inside of me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dr Pepper says his head is very low so he's definitely not breached anymore, although he is in the occiput posterior (OP) position (facing upwards instead of the more favorable face-down position.) It's okay though, either he'll turn by himself or Dr P will turn him. I'm sure with all the movement I've been feeling recently, he's going to move into the "correct" position all on his own. My baby's a smarty pants. :-p&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At yesterday's visit he weighed 6 pounds, 10 ounces, which is right where he should be at this point. I gained a pound since last week's dr visit, but it looks like I didn't &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;really&lt;/span&gt; gain anything--Z gained it all. My weight has normalized--I'm not gaining the usual "pound a week" I did the first 20 weeks. I really thought I was right on track to gain 40 pounds, but total weight gain so far is 29 pounds, and it looks like it'll stay around that number. Yes!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm not working right now, and quite honestly, I don't know how I'd be able to manage if I had to. Earlier this week I tried to walk to the grocery store and almost fainted. We don't live in the most convenient area and we don't have a car. The subway stations are 10-15 minutes away (on foot) and so are the grocery stores. The walk has never been an issue in the past--walking has always been my preferred (read: only) method of exercise.&lt;br /&gt;So I couldn't possible imagine having to walk to and from the subway every weekday. Not to mention enduring the subway ride. Ugh, and having to sit in an uncomfortable chair all day long! These days, my preferred position is lounging on my left side. I can't imagine doing that at the office!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7075648795761456017-6511917741257302992?l=buddingviolet.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buddingviolet.blogspot.com/feeds/6511917741257302992/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://buddingviolet.blogspot.com/2009/09/36-weeks.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7075648795761456017/posts/default/6511917741257302992'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7075648795761456017/posts/default/6511917741257302992'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buddingviolet.blogspot.com/2009/09/36-weeks.html' title='36 Weeks'/><author><name>Angie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13343787859995799488</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YTu9cbydh4M/TTeCCu8vCNI/AAAAAAAAH2o/fNYX7IRub2Q/s1600-R/cauliflower_purple_cape.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7075648795761456017.post-6848034371146212358</id><published>2009-09-09T14:10:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2009-09-11T21:03:56.589-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Third Trimester'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='natural childbirth'/><title type='text'>(Almost) 36 weeks</title><content type='html'>09/09/09&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last week's doctor's appointment was great. My low carb attempts paid off! Baby's size has normalized and he was over 5 pounds last Thursday, which is right where he should be. My next appointment is tomorrow, where Dr Pepper is planning on doing a &lt;a href="http://www.americanpregnancy.org/pregnancycomplications/groupbstrepinfection.html"&gt;strep test&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can't believe how close to delivering I am. Have been getting mild contractions, that are too far apart to even mention. I feel the pain and think, "He's getting ready!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm also not adequately prepared. Have not visited the hospital, have not taken birthing classes. And yet I'm planning on &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;trying&lt;/span&gt; to deliver sans drugs. The birth plan is very loose, but it hinges heavily on me laboring for as long as possible at home, or somewhere close to the hospital, but not actually in the hospital. The issue with that plan is that I live in Brooklyn, and I'm delivering at a hospital on the upper east side of Manhattan. I've been reading stories of babies born before the mothers were able to make it to the hospital (&lt;a href="http://www.nydailynews.com/ny_local/brooklyn/2009/09/04/2009-09-04_oh_baby_shes_born_on_the_bqe_thanks_to_cop.html"&gt;like this one&lt;/a&gt;). I can just imagine going through the second stage of labor stuck on the BQE during rush hour. Oof.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7075648795761456017-6848034371146212358?l=buddingviolet.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buddingviolet.blogspot.com/feeds/6848034371146212358/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://buddingviolet.blogspot.com/2009/09/almost-36-weeks.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7075648795761456017/posts/default/6848034371146212358'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7075648795761456017/posts/default/6848034371146212358'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buddingviolet.blogspot.com/2009/09/almost-36-weeks.html' title='(Almost) 36 weeks'/><author><name>Angie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13343787859995799488</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YTu9cbydh4M/TTeCCu8vCNI/AAAAAAAAH2o/fNYX7IRub2Q/s1600-R/cauliflower_purple_cape.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7075648795761456017.post-7417686912864968024</id><published>2009-08-31T12:15:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2009-08-31T13:40:09.535-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Third Trimester'/><title type='text'>34 weeks</title><content type='html'>"You look like you're about to pop."&lt;br /&gt;"Any day now, right?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;These and similar comments I get from friends, family, strangers on the street, etc. In truth, Z is bigger than average, but he's not ready to come out. I still haven't dropped. My belly is still high up, resting right up against my breasts and stomach, making it impossible to eat more than a little bit at a time. Of course, that hasn't stopped me from indulging. Yesterday we attended a Hindu wedding of a friend of mine, and ate the most delicious Indian food I've had in a while. We ate during the ceremony, because I had forgotten all about eating lunch, and Z wasn't so happy about that. S graciously pulled the pregnancy card and asked the caterers for food for his baby mama. I got the most delicious sag paneer and chicken tikka masala I've ever eaten. For the rest of the ceremony, all I could think about was the food. I had two plates of hor dourves, followed in a couple of hours by a full dinner and yummy resmilai for dessert. I totally overate and felt bloated and disgusting for a few hours but it was so worth it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Z is a lot more active these days. And when he moves, my entire belly moves. It's fun to watch and to feel. I've accepted my stretch marks. After going through the trauma and itchiness of PUPPS, a few blemishes on my belly is nothing. (Thankfully, the PUPPS is still at bay.)&lt;br /&gt;I see my doctor again on Thursday. He's had me on a low-carb diet because Z is getting so big, and I'm anxious to see if it's done anything. I haven't gained my normal pound-a-week for the past two weeks, so hopefully his massive head hasn't gotten too much larger.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This weekend we held a small gathering in our apartment and received a ton of presents for Z. I am so grateful to everyone for their generosity. We haven't had to buy one single item so far! We also arranged our bedroom to accommodate Z when he decides to enter infanthood. He's got his own little section, with a view, plus 24 hour maid and room service. What more could a boy ask for? ;-)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7075648795761456017-7417686912864968024?l=buddingviolet.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buddingviolet.blogspot.com/feeds/7417686912864968024/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://buddingviolet.blogspot.com/2009/08/34-weeks.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7075648795761456017/posts/default/7417686912864968024'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7075648795761456017/posts/default/7417686912864968024'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buddingviolet.blogspot.com/2009/08/34-weeks.html' title='34 weeks'/><author><name>Angie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13343787859995799488</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YTu9cbydh4M/TTeCCu8vCNI/AAAAAAAAH2o/fNYX7IRub2Q/s1600-R/cauliflower_purple_cape.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7075648795761456017.post-5251372391680703771</id><published>2009-08-16T15:56:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2009-08-16T16:21:23.040-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='PUPPS'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Third Trimester'/><title type='text'>32 Weeks</title><content type='html'>Well, the rash is gone. The itch is very minimal. And I didn't end up using anything except the &lt;a href="http://www.grandpabrands.com/curios.html"&gt;pine tar soap&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;I'm so grateful. The thought of having to spend the remainder of my pregnancy covered in an itchy rash was nightmarish. I don't know if it was the soap, or maybe the rash ran its course, but I don't really care. I'm just glad it's not there anymore. I see Dr Pepper tomorrow to find out the results of the blood test. Since the rash is gone, I'm not that worried anymore. I will deal with the results when I have them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;WOOHOO, THE ITCH IS GONE!!!!!!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7075648795761456017-5251372391680703771?l=buddingviolet.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buddingviolet.blogspot.com/feeds/5251372391680703771/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://buddingviolet.blogspot.com/2009/08/32-weeks.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7075648795761456017/posts/default/5251372391680703771'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7075648795761456017/posts/default/5251372391680703771'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buddingviolet.blogspot.com/2009/08/32-weeks.html' title='32 Weeks'/><author><name>Angie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13343787859995799488</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YTu9cbydh4M/TTeCCu8vCNI/AAAAAAAAH2o/fNYX7IRub2Q/s1600-R/cauliflower_purple_cape.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7075648795761456017.post-337228543044691707</id><published>2009-08-11T16:58:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2009-08-11T17:28:20.932-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='PUPPS'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Third Trimester'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Symptoms'/><title type='text'>PUPPS or bust</title><content type='html'>Yesterday's visit to Dr Pepper was not as fruitful as I had hoped. He didn't really do much, just took a look at my &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;rashy&lt;/span&gt; skin and sent me to a lab to get blood tests done. He said it's either &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;PUPPS&lt;/span&gt;, or another more serious condition. The more serious condition results in infant mortality, and they would have to induce me at 37 weeks to make sure that that doesn't happen. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;PUPPS&lt;/span&gt;, while really annoying and uncomfortable for me, is harmless to both me and Z. I find out the blood test results in a week.&lt;br /&gt;Pepper did give me a prescription for a numbing cream that he said may or may not help. Unfortunately there isn't much that can be done medically to help me. However, he did put me in touch with another one of his patients, N, a woman in her sixth month who got &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;PUPPS&lt;/span&gt; at 20 weeks. She went to a herbalist, got a few remedies, and the rash and itch disappeared!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Right now, I'm waiting for my pharmacy to fill the prescription. It was out of stock and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;pricey&lt;/span&gt;, even with my insurance. I'll see how that works before trying the herbs. I have been using Pine Tar soap, which looks like it's helping with the rash, although not so much with the itching. That's one of the products that N is using.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What does help with the itching is cold. I've taken to sleeping in a very cold air-conditioned room and taking frequent cold showers. It works, but it's also really impractical. I don't want to be stuck indoors for the duration of the pregnancy. Hopefully the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;prescription&lt;/span&gt; or the herbal remedies works.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dr. Pepper also did a quick ultrasound and we found out that Z is back to being breach. He just doesn't like being upside down. Pepper didn't make a big deal out of it; I guess it's the least of my problems at the moment.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7075648795761456017-337228543044691707?l=buddingviolet.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buddingviolet.blogspot.com/feeds/337228543044691707/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://buddingviolet.blogspot.com/2009/08/pupps-or-bust.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7075648795761456017/posts/default/337228543044691707'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7075648795761456017/posts/default/337228543044691707'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buddingviolet.blogspot.com/2009/08/pupps-or-bust.html' title='PUPPS or bust'/><author><name>Angie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13343787859995799488</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YTu9cbydh4M/TTeCCu8vCNI/AAAAAAAAH2o/fNYX7IRub2Q/s1600-R/cauliflower_purple_cape.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7075648795761456017.post-1453374629830183019</id><published>2009-08-09T14:56:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2009-08-09T15:27:49.371-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Third Trimester'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Symptoms'/><title type='text'>Itchy and Scratchy</title><content type='html'>Silly, silly insurance company. They need to find out my medical history b/c my dr tested for gestational diabetes. The test was negative. As in, I don't have gestational diabetes, or any other form of diabetes for that matter. So why do they need my previous medical history if I don't have the condition? If I don't have it now, then how can it be pre-existing? I don't understand this logic at all. All this for a $62 charge. Pain in my butt.&lt;br /&gt;=======&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've had an easy pregnancy so far. It's been drama free, and I've just had to deal with mild discomfort. I should have known better. Last week, I started getting an itchy rash on my belly. I had gotten a similar one a few months back, and it was from excessive cocoa butter use. I figured that it was the vitamin E cream I was using instead so I stopped. But the rash didn't go away. Instead it spread to my thighs, arms, hands, feet and back. Basically everywhere except for my palms, chest, neck and face. (Which I'm very grateful for.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The itch is unbearable. In all seriousness, I'd rather go through the pain of labor than have to deal with an itch I can't scratch. (Of course I say this now, never having gone through labor pains) The itch is continuous. So far, nothing has helped. I've been through a bottle of calamine lotion, tubes of cortizone 10, gold bond ointment, benedryl spray, oatmeal baths, black tar soap, and benedryl tablets.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As someone who has always avoided medication whenever possible, that's quite a list. The benedryl spray works best, but I can't take it in combinaton with the benedryl tablets, as they have the same active ingredient. The Benedryl tablets take about 2 hours to work, and all they really do is put me to sleep. I wake up itching.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As for the cause, I've ruled out everything environmental. I'm pretty sure it's PUPPS, which is a rare condition that affects pregnant women carrying boys. If it is, then I can look forward to being itchy and looking like a leper until I give birth. That's nine more weeks of this torture.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I seeing Dr. Tepper tomorrow. He wants to get a blood test to confirm.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7075648795761456017-1453374629830183019?l=buddingviolet.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buddingviolet.blogspot.com/feeds/1453374629830183019/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://buddingviolet.blogspot.com/2009/08/itchy-and-scratchy.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7075648795761456017/posts/default/1453374629830183019'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7075648795761456017/posts/default/1453374629830183019'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buddingviolet.blogspot.com/2009/08/itchy-and-scratchy.html' title='Itchy and Scratchy'/><author><name>Angie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13343787859995799488</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YTu9cbydh4M/TTeCCu8vCNI/AAAAAAAAH2o/fNYX7IRub2Q/s1600-R/cauliflower_purple_cape.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7075648795761456017.post-342505708891066417</id><published>2009-08-03T19:38:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-08-03T19:53:52.467-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Insurance'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Third Trimester'/><title type='text'>30 week check-up</title><content type='html'>We saw Dr. Pepper this am. Baby Z was breached, but Dr P worked his magic, using his hands against my belly to move Z's head and spine and now he's upside down again, the way he's supposed to be. He weighs 3 pounds 5 ounces, which is a little bigger than the norm (30 week old fetuses are usually less than 3 pounds.) Dr P says it's fine though. I'm still gaining a pound a week, which puts my total weight gain so far at 30 pounds.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Came home to a letter from my insurance company questioning a $65 charge because they believe it to be a "pre-existing condition." It's a little puzzling, as the letter doesn't mention specifics, and I have no medical issues or have ever had any medical issues. Of course their office is closed so I get to mull this over until tomorrow morning. Yay. And FYI, pregnancy is not considered a pre-existing condition.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7075648795761456017-342505708891066417?l=buddingviolet.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buddingviolet.blogspot.com/feeds/342505708891066417/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://buddingviolet.blogspot.com/2009/08/30-week-check-up.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7075648795761456017/posts/default/342505708891066417'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7075648795761456017/posts/default/342505708891066417'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buddingviolet.blogspot.com/2009/08/30-week-check-up.html' title='30 week check-up'/><author><name>Angie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13343787859995799488</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YTu9cbydh4M/TTeCCu8vCNI/AAAAAAAAH2o/fNYX7IRub2Q/s1600-R/cauliflower_purple_cape.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7075648795761456017.post-52829284441233168</id><published>2009-08-03T06:18:00.005-04:00</published><updated>2009-08-03T06:42:21.848-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Third Trimester'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Symptoms'/><title type='text'>Vanity / Self-pity</title><content type='html'>I was/am mentally prepared for a baby. I was not prepared for the toll it would take on my body.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ack. I got stretch marks. They are on the lower part of my stomach, below my navel. It's the part of my abdomen I can't see anymore without a mirror. So it took me a while to realize that they were even there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I did discover them, it hit a little harder because I wasn't expecting them. I had thoroughly convinced myself that I wouldn't get any, because my mom didn't get any and none had shown up by the end of my second trimester. Ah, but my mom only gained 15 pounds the entire length of her pregnancy, an amount I gained in the first 15 weeks of mine. Damn her for giving me false hope.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't have a good reason to be upset. My baby is healthy, and this pregnancy has been a breeze so far, with no complications. But darn it, I wanted to be able to bounce back to my former self with little or no evidence of having pushed a human being out of my body. The kid should be evidence enough. I don't want a pouch, or stretch marks, or saggy boobs! I want my body back!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;"Vanity, definitely my favorite sin."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7075648795761456017-52829284441233168?l=buddingviolet.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buddingviolet.blogspot.com/feeds/52829284441233168/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://buddingviolet.blogspot.com/2009/08/vanity-self-pity.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7075648795761456017/posts/default/52829284441233168'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7075648795761456017/posts/default/52829284441233168'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buddingviolet.blogspot.com/2009/08/vanity-self-pity.html' title='Vanity / Self-pity'/><author><name>Angie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13343787859995799488</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YTu9cbydh4M/TTeCCu8vCNI/AAAAAAAAH2o/fNYX7IRub2Q/s1600-R/cauliflower_purple_cape.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7075648795761456017.post-3196270840779672915</id><published>2009-08-01T11:26:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2009-08-01T11:35:21.130-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Third Trimester'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Symptoms'/><title type='text'>July / 30 weeks</title><content type='html'>July came and went and not a blog post to remember it by.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I entered my third trimester with little fanfare. No big changes with the pregnancy, except I'm more uncomfortable and the heat is unbearable. Stairs are my enemy. Walking up one flight leaves me breathless. My belly is stereotypically a "boy" belly: I'm carrying high. This means the baby is pressing on my lungs, making seemingly easy tasks a nightmare. I'm about ready to move past this stage.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Other memorable July events: went on my first cruise, took and passed a glucose test (Yay, no sign of gestational diabetes!), stopped working (Mid-July).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There is much to write about, and hopefully it won't take me a whole month to post another entry.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7075648795761456017-3196270840779672915?l=buddingviolet.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buddingviolet.blogspot.com/feeds/3196270840779672915/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://buddingviolet.blogspot.com/2009/08/july-30-weeks.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7075648795761456017/posts/default/3196270840779672915'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7075648795761456017/posts/default/3196270840779672915'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buddingviolet.blogspot.com/2009/08/july-30-weeks.html' title='July / 30 weeks'/><author><name>Angie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13343787859995799488</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YTu9cbydh4M/TTeCCu8vCNI/AAAAAAAAH2o/fNYX7IRub2Q/s1600-R/cauliflower_purple_cape.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7075648795761456017.post-1890726887126238489</id><published>2009-06-30T11:02:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2009-06-30T11:44:44.590-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Stuff we like'/><title type='text'>Baby stuff we like</title><content type='html'>S and I have spent the better part of the past week inside most baby stores in NYC. We started a registry at Babies R Us,  mainly because they have decent prices. We've been doing a ton of research, checking every review before adding any item to the registry. We spent many, many hours deciding on a stroller. The winner?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.bambibaby.com/images/redmini.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 356px; height: 500px;" src="http://www.bambibaby.com/images/redmini.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.greatbeginningsonline.com/UserFiles/store_manufactures/Image/baby_jogger_quick_fold.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 800px; height: 250px;" src="http://www.greatbeginningsonline.com/UserFiles/store_manufactures/Image/baby_jogger_quick_fold.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The &lt;a href="http://www.babyjogger.com/city_mini_sngl_dtl.aspx"&gt;Baby Jogger City Mini&lt;/a&gt;, in red. The thing folds with &lt;a href="http://www.greatbeginningsonline.com/UserFiles/store_manufactures/Image/baby_jogger_quick_fold.jpg"&gt;one pull&lt;/a&gt; and is lightweight compared to other strollers out there. Plus you can maneuver with one hand and it's spacious enough to accommodate a growing baby.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At the top of our list of things that we don't &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;need&lt;/span&gt; but want really, really badly is this:&lt;a href="http://www.rockabyebabymusic.com/"&gt; Rockabye Baby&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Specifically this: &lt;a href="http://www.rockabyebabymusic.com/ecom2/index.php/music/rockabye-baby-lullaby-renditions-of-bob-marley.html"&gt;Lullaby Renditions of Bob Marley&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They even have &lt;a href="http://www.rockabyebabymusic.com/ecom2/index.php/music/rockabye-baby-lullaby-renditions-of-metallica.html"&gt;Metallica&lt;/a&gt;! &lt;a href="http://www.rockabyebabymusic.com/ecom2/index.php/music/rockabye-baby-lullaby-renditions-of-bj-rk.html"&gt;Bjork&lt;/a&gt;! &lt;a href="http://www.rockabyebabymusic.com/ecom2/index.php/music/rockabye-baby-lullaby-renditions-of-led-zeppelin.html"&gt;Zeppelin&lt;/a&gt;!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Each album is $16.98 a pop, but priceless really, when you think of the musical education the kid will be getting, straight out of the womb.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7075648795761456017-1890726887126238489?l=buddingviolet.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buddingviolet.blogspot.com/feeds/1890726887126238489/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://buddingviolet.blogspot.com/2009/06/baby-stuff-we-like.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7075648795761456017/posts/default/1890726887126238489'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7075648795761456017/posts/default/1890726887126238489'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buddingviolet.blogspot.com/2009/06/baby-stuff-we-like.html' title='Baby stuff we like'/><author><name>Angie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13343787859995799488</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YTu9cbydh4M/TTeCCu8vCNI/AAAAAAAAH2o/fNYX7IRub2Q/s1600-R/cauliflower_purple_cape.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7075648795761456017.post-526400964287111646</id><published>2009-06-28T09:16:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2009-06-28T09:16:33.889-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Thoughts'/><title type='text'>Let Go</title><content type='html'>I hope I remember this 18 years from now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I believe that the one job parents have is to teach their children how to be self-sufficient. If you can do that well, then you have succeeded. You teach them the difference between right and wrong, you enable them to learn about the world and its ways. You teach them the simple skills and send them off to learn about the more complicated skills. You expand their minds.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then you let them go and hope that they make wise decisions.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The letting go part was the step my mom wasn't the best at. She was wonderful at making sure that I got the best education possible. She made sure I had an innate sense of what's right vs. what's not. But she wasn't able to let me go make my own decisions, to be confident that I would be able to handle those tough choices on my own. The thing is, if you do your job well as a parent, then you need to have the confidence in your abilities. You need to let go.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I woke up thinking of this parallel with the religious ones of the world. The thing is, if you believe that God created you, that's fine. But I think that you should also recognize that maybe God created you, then left you on this earth to make your own decisions. One thing I absolutely abhor are those who refuse to help themselves because they think that God will take care of it all. I think the whole point of the human race is to just live and let live. Just like a parent would like his child to succeed on his own, maybe God as a creator would like you, as a member of the human race to do it on your own, instead of calling out his name every five minutes.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7075648795761456017-526400964287111646?l=buddingviolet.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buddingviolet.blogspot.com/feeds/526400964287111646/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://buddingviolet.blogspot.com/2009/06/let-go.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7075648795761456017/posts/default/526400964287111646'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7075648795761456017/posts/default/526400964287111646'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buddingviolet.blogspot.com/2009/06/let-go.html' title='Let Go'/><author><name>Angie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13343787859995799488</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YTu9cbydh4M/TTeCCu8vCNI/AAAAAAAAH2o/fNYX7IRub2Q/s1600-R/cauliflower_purple_cape.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7075648795761456017.post-6488605067865367226</id><published>2009-06-25T15:10:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2009-06-25T15:54:01.197-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Second Trimester'/><title type='text'>Summer in the City</title><content type='html'>I'm working until July 15th. Then I'm not.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've already started making a mental list of all the things I'll be able to do with myself now that my presence won't be required in Midtown East. First on the list is a bunch of career/academic related stuff, for life post-belly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then there's New York in the summer. I spent last year's summer in India, and while that experience was amazing, I'm looking forward to being in my city with all the time in the world.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We are also making a trip to Georgia at the end of July to visit S's cousin. I'll be 30 weeks at that point. I'm a little worried though, because I have been hearing not so good things about the airline we are flying. A fellow blogger complained about her AirTran experience, and I've been reading even worse reviews &lt;a href="http://www.my3cents.com/companyOverview.cgi?code=84"&gt;online&lt;/a&gt;. I guess that's the hidden cost of dirt cheap tickets.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then there's, of course, preparation for baby Z. The list of crap we will need grows daily. Oy.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7075648795761456017-6488605067865367226?l=buddingviolet.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buddingviolet.blogspot.com/feeds/6488605067865367226/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://buddingviolet.blogspot.com/2009/06/summer-in-city.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7075648795761456017/posts/default/6488605067865367226'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7075648795761456017/posts/default/6488605067865367226'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buddingviolet.blogspot.com/2009/06/summer-in-city.html' title='Summer in the City'/><author><name>Angie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13343787859995799488</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YTu9cbydh4M/TTeCCu8vCNI/AAAAAAAAH2o/fNYX7IRub2Q/s1600-R/cauliflower_purple_cape.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7075648795761456017.post-9109214257088409007</id><published>2009-06-18T14:33:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2009-07-02T12:19:31.872-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Picture'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='natural childbirth'/><title type='text'>Heavy</title><content type='html'>The weather has been wet and dreary for the entire month of June, with sporatic days of sunshine that are replaced by clouds so quickly that you wonder if it happened at all. The temperature isn't much better either, and I long for days when I can wear as little as possible. Then I remember that I'm pregnant. 100 degree weather might not be the best thing to wish for right now. When the weather does get that ridiculous, it'll be nice to come into work, just for the central air.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Our apartment is coming together, slowly. We have been collecting baby stuff. There's already a crib halfway set up in the bedroom, some early baby presents, and a bassinet, waiting to be put together. The crib has become a clotheshorse, collecting random pieces of clothing that S and I have been too lazy to put away or throw in the hamper. I'm waiting for the nesting phase to set in, at which point I'm sure I'll be all about getting the apartment Z ready.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Peanut has been renamed Z. My bladder is now called peenut, for obvious reasons.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have taken to watching natural births on youtube, and every video makes me cry. I'm still hoping to have a drug-free delivery. I watched a video of one mother who was in labor for 12 hours but still managed to resist the epidural. She still opted for an all natural birth the second time around. These stories give me strength.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One of my biggest fears is that Z will be too large and will require a C-section. He's already too big for his age, and apparently I'm too big also. I spoke to my mom, who told me that she gained a grand total of 15 pounds when she was pregnant with me. And I weighed seven pounds, six ounces. I've already gained 22 pounds and I'm only in my second trimester!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YTu9cbydh4M/SjqPfC7pUAI/AAAAAAAAHjk/ojhGR9wGIqs/s1600-h/4870_92062236438_706916438_2003084_1112128_n.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YTu9cbydh4M/SjqPfC7pUAI/AAAAAAAAHjk/ojhGR9wGIqs/s320/4870_92062236438_706916438_2003084_1112128_n.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5348745270981644290" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7075648795761456017-9109214257088409007?l=buddingviolet.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buddingviolet.blogspot.com/feeds/9109214257088409007/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://buddingviolet.blogspot.com/2009/06/heavy.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7075648795761456017/posts/default/9109214257088409007'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7075648795761456017/posts/default/9109214257088409007'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buddingviolet.blogspot.com/2009/06/heavy.html' title='Heavy'/><author><name>Angie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13343787859995799488</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YTu9cbydh4M/TTeCCu8vCNI/AAAAAAAAH2o/fNYX7IRub2Q/s1600-R/cauliflower_purple_cape.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YTu9cbydh4M/SjqPfC7pUAI/AAAAAAAAHjk/ojhGR9wGIqs/s72-c/4870_92062236438_706916438_2003084_1112128_n.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7075648795761456017.post-7142436037164364604</id><published>2009-06-08T14:12:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-06-08T14:46:59.075-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Second Trimester'/><title type='text'>22 Weeks</title><content type='html'>I'm bigger than most pregnant women at 22 weeks. Last night S and I went to see &lt;a href="http://FilmInFocus.com/AwayWeGo"&gt;Away We Go&lt;/a&gt;, a cute movie about a pregnant couple, directed by Sam Mendes. The lead actress was six months pregnant for most of the movie but looked much bigger. She was even denied a seat on a plane because she looked over eight months and they wouldn't let her board without a doctor's note. Ah, I can relate.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This weekend I sucked up my pride and went shopping at a &lt;a href="http://www.motherhood.com"&gt;maternity store&lt;/a&gt;. I was looking exceptionally sloppy at work with my pants unzipped practically all the way. Now that I will definitely be working through the summer, I needed to look a little more put together. The maternity store experience was relatively painless. Of course, just as I suspected, the majority of the clothes were gaudy and matronly. I am not a 50 year old woman!  They did have a few items that looked decent and actually fit. Even though I've gained more weight than normal, I've only gained in my abdomen. The rest of my body is still slim. Hence, I'm still a small. Whew! I left the store with pants, capris, a jean skirt, a dress and a blouse. Not a bad shopping spree!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7075648795761456017-7142436037164364604?l=buddingviolet.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buddingviolet.blogspot.com/feeds/7142436037164364604/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://buddingviolet.blogspot.com/2009/06/22-weeks.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7075648795761456017/posts/default/7142436037164364604'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7075648795761456017/posts/default/7142436037164364604'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buddingviolet.blogspot.com/2009/06/22-weeks.html' title='22 Weeks'/><author><name>Angie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13343787859995799488</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YTu9cbydh4M/TTeCCu8vCNI/AAAAAAAAH2o/fNYX7IRub2Q/s1600-R/cauliflower_purple_cape.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7075648795761456017.post-6189554431818749525</id><published>2009-06-01T16:12:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2009-06-01T17:16:17.852-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Second Trimester'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Symptoms'/><title type='text'>Alive and Kicking</title><content type='html'>Yesterday I took S over to my parents house to meet my mother for the first time. Yes, I've been pregnant for 21 weeks and only now are they meeting. Those who haven't been reading my blogs for long (I've been blogging for over five years) won't get it, because they haven't been subjected to my blog rants about my mother and her irrational behavior, and the ups and downs of our relationship. I've been gun-shy because of her initial reaction to the pregnancy, which you can read about &lt;a href="http://buddingviolet.blogspot.com/2009/03/brooklyn-we-go-hard.html"&gt;here&lt;/a&gt;, and also because of her behavior towards my previous boyfriend, the details of which I'll keep private.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wasn't expecting much, but I daresay it went well. Yay.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last night I also started to feel peanut kicking! The feeling is hard to describe...it's like I swallowed one of those high bouncing jacks balls and feel it bouncing around in there. It's a gentle kicking, a sweet reminder that there's a living thing swimming around in there. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've also been developing other pregnancy side effects that aren't quite as gentle. I already know how I'm going to feel when I'm eighty. My bladder can't hold much liquid and I have to make frequent trips to the bano. Allergies have been kicking my ass this Spring, which isn't necessary a symptom of the pregnancy, but my violent sneezes frequently cause my tiny bladder to squeeze out a little pee, making me feel like I should start wearing depends.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm also achy. I get uncomfortable when I'm in one position for a long time, and its equally uncomfortable to shift positions. I can no longer climb long flights of stairs without running out of breath. Hell, I can't even walk at a normal (New York) pace!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's all worth it though. I may complain and whine (especially to S) but the little things like seeing him on the ultrasound and feeling him make it all worthwhile.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7075648795761456017-6189554431818749525?l=buddingviolet.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buddingviolet.blogspot.com/feeds/6189554431818749525/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://buddingviolet.blogspot.com/2009/06/alive-and-kicking.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7075648795761456017/posts/default/6189554431818749525'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7075648795761456017/posts/default/6189554431818749525'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buddingviolet.blogspot.com/2009/06/alive-and-kicking.html' title='Alive and Kicking'/><author><name>Angie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13343787859995799488</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YTu9cbydh4M/TTeCCu8vCNI/AAAAAAAAH2o/fNYX7IRub2Q/s1600-R/cauliflower_purple_cape.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7075648795761456017.post-4535191325733996035</id><published>2009-05-29T13:45:00.006-04:00</published><updated>2009-05-29T15:12:41.289-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Second Trimester'/><title type='text'>I could use this!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YTu9cbydh4M/SiAfmP4VJwI/AAAAAAAAHi8/CH7OUlgMSg8/s1600-h/BeltzBib.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 249px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YTu9cbydh4M/SiAfmP4VJwI/AAAAAAAAHi8/CH7OUlgMSg8/s320/BeltzBib.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5341303900019697410" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is the &lt;a href="http://jalopnik.com/5261503/the-beltzbib-this-is-why-youre-fat"&gt;BeltzBib&lt;/a&gt;, a bib that attaches to the seatbelt, so that you can comfortably eat your greasy nachos in your car without getting it all over your clothes. When I first heard of this all I could think of was, they should totally market this to pregnant women!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My belly serves as a crumb catcher. Last week I ate an everything bagel with cream cheese on the train. Instead of just falling through my legs to the ground, the crumbs ended up on my stomach. It wasn't until hours later, while I had already been at work for half the day, did I discover a glob of cream cheese on my underbelly. And it wasn't until later when I was sharing this experience with a co-worker that she noticed a second glob of cream cheese on the back of my pant leg!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So maybe someone can invent a chic bib for mothers-to-be? One with a bin at the bottom, like the BeltzBib, that keeps the cream cheese off of maternity clothes? Pretty please?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7075648795761456017-4535191325733996035?l=buddingviolet.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buddingviolet.blogspot.com/feeds/4535191325733996035/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://buddingviolet.blogspot.com/2009/05/i-could-use-this.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7075648795761456017/posts/default/4535191325733996035'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7075648795761456017/posts/default/4535191325733996035'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buddingviolet.blogspot.com/2009/05/i-could-use-this.html' title='I could use this!'/><author><name>Angie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13343787859995799488</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YTu9cbydh4M/TTeCCu8vCNI/AAAAAAAAH2o/fNYX7IRub2Q/s1600-R/cauliflower_purple_cape.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YTu9cbydh4M/SiAfmP4VJwI/AAAAAAAAHi8/CH7OUlgMSg8/s72-c/BeltzBib.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7075648795761456017.post-1941498250810468623</id><published>2009-05-21T14:12:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2009-05-21T14:21:30.894-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Picture'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Second Trimester'/><title type='text'>Belly at 20 weeks</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YTu9cbydh4M/ShWbf_PbsSI/AAAAAAAAHhQ/Sye-METv-oQ/s1600-h/IMG_0214_small.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YTu9cbydh4M/ShWbf_PbsSI/AAAAAAAAHhQ/Sye-METv-oQ/s400/IMG_0214_small.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5338343907172004130" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7075648795761456017-1941498250810468623?l=buddingviolet.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buddingviolet.blogspot.com/feeds/1941498250810468623/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://buddingviolet.blogspot.com/2009/05/belly-at-20-weeks.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7075648795761456017/posts/default/1941498250810468623'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7075648795761456017/posts/default/1941498250810468623'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buddingviolet.blogspot.com/2009/05/belly-at-20-weeks.html' title='Belly at 20 weeks'/><author><name>Angie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13343787859995799488</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YTu9cbydh4M/TTeCCu8vCNI/AAAAAAAAH2o/fNYX7IRub2Q/s1600-R/cauliflower_purple_cape.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YTu9cbydh4M/ShWbf_PbsSI/AAAAAAAAHhQ/Sye-METv-oQ/s72-c/IMG_0214_small.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7075648795761456017.post-6702559923660395019</id><published>2009-05-21T12:57:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2009-05-21T13:59:39.101-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Second Trimester'/><title type='text'>20 weeks</title><content type='html'>I feel big. I've gained 15 pounds. I'm officially the heaviest I have ever been. The weight gain is mostly all in my belly, so my arms and legs are still stick like. I typed in "20 weeks" at flickr.com and was pleased that at least some of the women look as big as I feel.&lt;br /&gt;Took some pics yesterday. I'll post them as soon as S gets up off the couch to send to me. :-p&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tomorrow is the ultrasound. Yay!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I started SNORING! Apparently loud enough to keep S up at night. The first time it happened he left me alone and tried to sleep through it. Aww, how cute is he? At some point soon I fully expect to be awoken to him repeatedly punching me in the ribs. :-D&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7075648795761456017-6702559923660395019?l=buddingviolet.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buddingviolet.blogspot.com/feeds/6702559923660395019/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://buddingviolet.blogspot.com/2009/05/20-weeks.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7075648795761456017/posts/default/6702559923660395019'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7075648795761456017/posts/default/6702559923660395019'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buddingviolet.blogspot.com/2009/05/20-weeks.html' title='20 weeks'/><author><name>Angie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13343787859995799488</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YTu9cbydh4M/TTeCCu8vCNI/AAAAAAAAH2o/fNYX7IRub2Q/s1600-R/cauliflower_purple_cape.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7075648795761456017.post-7287782411600547158</id><published>2009-05-13T16:32:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2009-05-13T16:50:04.050-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Second Trimester'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Symptoms'/><title type='text'>10 second update</title><content type='html'>Life's good. Haven't felt him move yet, but I'm being told that that should happen soon. Feel very normal, even have "normal" allergies.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Am excited for the warm weather.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Am leaking from the breasts. This is normal but not very common. So far I'm the only one who's started this early. Am taking it all in stride. Seems to happen at the most inopportune times.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Told my supervisor on Monday. Looks like I'll be working past the end of May.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Trying to cram everything into the second trimester before I start feeling tired again. Am not looking forward to the massive weight gain. At least I don't anticipate stretch marks. My mom never got them. Woohoo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mother's Day was one of the best I've had in recent history. My friends sent me "Happy mother-to-be day" texts. It was cute. Also managed to get my mother a present she actually appreciated and will use. That hasn't ever happened. Also saw my grandparents and the rest of the maternal side of the family.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anatomy scan is scheduled for next Friday. He's going to look like a real human being when we see him! Can't wait!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7075648795761456017-7287782411600547158?l=buddingviolet.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buddingviolet.blogspot.com/feeds/7287782411600547158/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://buddingviolet.blogspot.com/2009/05/10-second-update.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7075648795761456017/posts/default/7287782411600547158'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7075648795761456017/posts/default/7287782411600547158'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buddingviolet.blogspot.com/2009/05/10-second-update.html' title='10 second update'/><author><name>Angie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13343787859995799488</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YTu9cbydh4M/TTeCCu8vCNI/AAAAAAAAH2o/fNYX7IRub2Q/s1600-R/cauliflower_purple_cape.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7075648795761456017.post-171899790591181876</id><published>2009-05-01T17:11:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2009-05-01T17:12:38.690-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='natural childbirth'/><title type='text'>Pitocin/Epidural clip - The Business of Being Born</title><content type='html'>&lt;object width="445" height="364"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/3fPauJEy7fc&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;color1=0x006699&amp;amp;color2=0x54abd6&amp;amp;border=1"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/3fPauJEy7fc&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;color1=0x006699&amp;amp;color2=0x54abd6&amp;amp;border=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="445" height="364"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7075648795761456017-171899790591181876?l=buddingviolet.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buddingviolet.blogspot.com/feeds/171899790591181876/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://buddingviolet.blogspot.com/2009/05/pitocinepidural-clip-business-of-being.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7075648795761456017/posts/default/171899790591181876'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7075648795761456017/posts/default/171899790591181876'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buddingviolet.blogspot.com/2009/05/pitocinepidural-clip-business-of-being.html' title='Pitocin/Epidural clip - The Business of Being Born'/><author><name>Angie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13343787859995799488</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YTu9cbydh4M/TTeCCu8vCNI/AAAAAAAAH2o/fNYX7IRub2Q/s1600-R/cauliflower_purple_cape.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7075648795761456017.post-5945201585585784730</id><published>2009-04-29T11:46:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2009-05-01T14:17:24.754-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='natural childbirth'/><title type='text'>Childbirth, cont.</title><content type='html'>There are more issues with giving birth in a hospital. I don't want to go into them in detail, but they mostly have to do with hospital policies. The position that women are put into when delivering only benefits the doctor. Ideally, the woman should be in a position she is most comfortable in, and one that also utilizes gravity. When women lie on their backs, it makes it harder for the baby to go down the birth canal, but it's an easier position for the delivering physician. Also, women in labor need to move around, and switch positions as needed. They need to be able to walk around. This is not efficient when you are attached to 5 different machines and confined to the hospital bed. Women are also not allowed to eat anything, which seems backwards and a total unnecessary precaution, since they need all the energy they can get. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I understand that hospitals need to take precautions. But these precautions are put in place not with the mother in mind, but to mitigate against potential liability. Childbirth is treated like every case is a potential disaster, when we really should be celebrating the joy of life being created. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, with all this in mind, I have decided to forgo the drugs and attempt to deliver naturally. I pondered a home birth delivery for a while, but I really like Dr. Pepper (I'd have to get a midwife otherwise) and since this will be my first delivery, I don't know what to expect. If something goes wrong, at least I will be in an environment that can get me through it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We spoke to Dr. Pepper about delivering naturally, and he had no problem with it. He even agrees that its better because epidurals delay the contractions anyway, and would make my delivery longer than it needs to be. Ideally, he'd like me to go through the bulk of the contractions at home, and only come to the hospital when I'm sufficiently dilated. This way I won't have to fight too much with hospital staff who want to strap me in and drug me up. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So now the next step is to adequately prepare myself for the pain. I've started prenatal yoga, which helps to strengthen and stretch the muscles I'm going to need. I'm going to sign up for birthing classes. A friend of a friend who is a doula suggested I have a close friend or family member in the hospital with me. Someone who knows my needs and will make sure the hospital staff doesn't talk me into something I don't want.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I want to feel. I don't want to be numb. I want the entire experience of giving birth. Watching all those women in the documentary gave me a renewed sense of pride. I am woman. I can do this.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7075648795761456017-5945201585585784730?l=buddingviolet.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buddingviolet.blogspot.com/feeds/5945201585585784730/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://buddingviolet.blogspot.com/2009/04/childbirth-cont.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7075648795761456017/posts/default/5945201585585784730'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7075648795761456017/posts/default/5945201585585784730'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buddingviolet.blogspot.com/2009/04/childbirth-cont.html' title='Childbirth, cont.'/><author><name>Angie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13343787859995799488</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YTu9cbydh4M/TTeCCu8vCNI/AAAAAAAAH2o/fNYX7IRub2Q/s1600-R/cauliflower_purple_cape.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7075648795761456017.post-2718843411867613477</id><published>2009-04-28T12:00:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-04-28T12:11:53.400-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='natural childbirth'/><title type='text'>Childbirth</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;S and I used to laugh at women who opted for natural childbirth with no anesthesia. It just seemed kind of silly not to want to utilize modern medicine. Why go through all that pain when you don't have to?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then one day I was browsing through prenatal yoga videos on &lt;a href="http://www.netflix.com/"&gt;Netflix&lt;/a&gt; and accidentally came across the movie &lt;a href="http://www.thebusinessofbeingborn.com/"&gt;The Business of Being Born&lt;/a&gt;. That movie opened my eyes and changed every view I thought I had on the topic of childbirth. Ricky Lake (of talk show fame) had her first child in a hospital. She was unhappy with the experience and decided to explore other options for her second baby. The film explores the differences between having a baby in a hospital, with all the advances of modern medicine, and having a home birth, with a midwife present. The film also shows in graphic detail, the births of five or so babies. It was the most beautiful sight I have ever seen. Nothing else comes close.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What fascinated me about the movie was the way that hospitals treat laboring mothers. Pitocin is a drug used to induce labor and speed up the contractions. There are significant risks with using Pitocin, including fetal distress. Also, because the contractions are being sped up, it becomes more painful for the woman. Because of the pain, an epidural is administered. In addition to numbing the lower body, epidurals also slow down contractions, making it necessary to again use Pitocin. Which in turn brings on the pain, requiring more anesthesia. And the cycle continues, benefitting only the hospitals, which get a faster delivery and a free bed sooner.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Another alarming trend is the increase in cesarean sections. In 2007 one in three births in the United States has been through C-sections. This is an all time high. One reason for the increase is the use of Pitocin and epidurals in the delivery room. Labor induction too early, before the mother and baby are ready can cause fetal distress, which increases the need for a surgical delivery. Infant mortality rates are also highest in the US than in other developed countries.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hospital staff will often recommend C-sections, even when it might not be needed. This is to prevent liability issues, because a C-section confirms that they did everything that they could do. Also, nine out of ten women who had C-sections, have repeat C-sections because health professionals are unwilling to offer the choice of VBAC (Vaginal Birth After Cesarean sections).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Although one can argue that the documentary is one-sided, it doesn’t make the facts any less true. A co-worker of mine went through the exact steps listed above. She was a healthy 26 year old mother-to-be in labor. She was given Pitocin and an epidural, which caused the baby to be in distress. She needed to have a C-section. When she became pregnant with her second child, her doctor did not even give her the option of a natural delivery, he instead scheduled her delivery again via C-section.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I could go on, and I will, in a future blog post.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7075648795761456017-2718843411867613477?l=buddingviolet.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buddingviolet.blogspot.com/feeds/2718843411867613477/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://buddingviolet.blogspot.com/2009/04/childbirth.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7075648795761456017/posts/default/2718843411867613477'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7075648795761456017/posts/default/2718843411867613477'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buddingviolet.blogspot.com/2009/04/childbirth.html' title='Childbirth'/><author><name>Angie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13343787859995799488</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YTu9cbydh4M/TTeCCu8vCNI/AAAAAAAAH2o/fNYX7IRub2Q/s1600-R/cauliflower_purple_cape.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7075648795761456017.post-5383498771687005628</id><published>2009-04-21T12:50:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2009-04-21T13:50:58.676-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Friends'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Second Trimester'/><title type='text'>Energy! Libido!</title><content type='html'>Oof. It's been a while. I've started four blog posts since my last update but always end up saving them as draft. Sometimes the urge to write hits and the words flow beautifully. That urge hasn't presented itself lately.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nonetheless, there is much to say.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;I'm in my second trimester, and life is back to normal. I no longer get mood swings, and I have energy to spare. And! My libido is back! S is quite pleased about this. &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I have decided not to renew my contract at work. I put a lot of thought into this, and there are just too many negative factors involved with me staying. The only positive is the paycheck, which I admit, is a big positive. However, the reasons I left this job a year ago are still valid. If I don't move forward with my career goals now, I will find myself stuck doing something that I hate for longer than I'd care to. &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Along those lines, I have also decided not to "announce" my pregnancy at work. The two co-workers closest to me know, and there is really no reason for anyone else to know. After I leave (again), I won't be keeping in touch with anyone else here. It's fun hiding my bump. It's not outrageous as yet, so scarfs and shawls have been doing the trick. &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I've been taking advantage of my new found energy. I spent the weekend at happy hour (albeit sober), celebrating two birthdays, watching a baseball game at the newly constructed Citifield in Queens and walking through Flushing Meadow park with a few girlfriends. &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;We have picked out a name for Peanut. We are keeping it under wraps for now, to avoid the usual negative opinions that are bound to come from all sides. I sometimes wish we could wait a little longer before naming the kid, at least until his personality starts to show. That way we can tell if he's a Bob or a Storm. &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;On Sunday I rode the train with a toddler who did not want to sit in her stroller and wasn't afraid to let it known. She threw a tantrum, screaming her head off, taking off her sneakers and throwing them across the train, all the while the mother calmly ignored her. Yikes. I don't know what I would do in that situation. I guess I'll find out soon enough. &lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7075648795761456017-5383498771687005628?l=buddingviolet.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buddingviolet.blogspot.com/feeds/5383498771687005628/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://buddingviolet.blogspot.com/2009/04/energy-libido.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7075648795761456017/posts/default/5383498771687005628'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7075648795761456017/posts/default/5383498771687005628'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buddingviolet.blogspot.com/2009/04/energy-libido.html' title='Energy! Libido!'/><author><name>Angie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13343787859995799488</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YTu9cbydh4M/TTeCCu8vCNI/AAAAAAAAH2o/fNYX7IRub2Q/s1600-R/cauliflower_purple_cape.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7075648795761456017.post-7023547805692484385</id><published>2009-04-03T11:46:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2009-04-03T13:00:46.398-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Friends'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Second Trimester'/><title type='text'>Foiled!</title><content type='html'>On Wednesday S's hairdresser (barber?) noticed my belly. That's two in one week.&lt;br /&gt;I've gotta say, I don't look that pregnant today though. I don't &lt;em&gt;feel&lt;/em&gt; pregnant either. I think it's the second trimester kicking in. I feel &lt;em&gt;normal&lt;/em&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Making another lame attempt to reclaim my social life. I'm going to my regular Friday happy hour destination, my Cheers, where everyone knows my name. I haven't been since last year. Hopefully they still remember my name.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My last lame attempt:&lt;br /&gt;Last Saturday I made plans to go out with a girlfriend. S went off to work, then a concert, then realized that my wallet (read: money, driver's license, credit cards) was in his jacket pocket. So there I am stuck in Brooklyn.&lt;br /&gt;Undeterred, I remember that my metrocard was not in the wallet. Aha, I can still travel! And since alcohol is a no-no, I don't actually need any cash or credit cards. And I have my passport! Wahoo!&lt;br /&gt;I get dressed, and dolled up and was quite pleased with the results. Tight jeans, high heeled knee high black boots, a red halter top with an empire waist that minimized my belly while showcasing my newly ample bosom. I was ready.&lt;br /&gt;I walked to the subway station and swipe my metrocard and swiped only to get the following message:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Insufficient funds&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Curses! My monthly metrocard chose that day to expire. Still determined, I walked all the way back to the apartment (did I mention it was also raining?) to find eight quarters.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then I realized that it just wasn't meant to happen. I'm all for creating your own destiny and paving your own path. But I also know that sometimes you have to give in, and let the universe have its way. So I settled in for the night, watched Made of Honor, and waited for S to come home bearing french fries and the promise of a massage.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7075648795761456017-7023547805692484385?l=buddingviolet.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buddingviolet.blogspot.com/feeds/7023547805692484385/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://buddingviolet.blogspot.com/2009/04/on-wednesday-ss-hairdresser-barber.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7075648795761456017/posts/default/7023547805692484385'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7075648795761456017/posts/default/7023547805692484385'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buddingviolet.blogspot.com/2009/04/on-wednesday-ss-hairdresser-barber.html' title='Foiled!'/><author><name>Angie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13343787859995799488</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YTu9cbydh4M/TTeCCu8vCNI/AAAAAAAAH2o/fNYX7IRub2Q/s1600-R/cauliflower_purple_cape.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7075648795761456017.post-1102039324209117032</id><published>2009-03-31T11:40:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2009-03-31T11:42:34.072-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Second Trimester'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Ultrasound'/><title type='text'>Oh boy</title><content type='html'>I'm proud to report that my baby has a skinny neck. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Yay&lt;/span&gt;, minimal Downs Syndrome risk!&lt;br /&gt;Friday's ultrasound screening went very well. It was amazing to see our little boy on the screen, moving around. Yes, I said boy. :) The technician, although earlier said that it was too early to tell the sex, did notice a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;protrusion&lt;/span&gt; between the hips that was too large to be girl parts. :) She told us there was an 80% chance that it is a boy. I plan on posting the ultrasound photos, as soon as I get motivated enough at home to scan them in.&lt;br /&gt;They said that although the initial neck measurements look good, they won't have a comprehensive picture until they also run blood tests. I got my finger punctured and blood painfully squeezed out to mark five dots on a card. Dr. Pepper will get the results in two weeks, at which point he will give me the okay to tell the world.&lt;br /&gt;At this point we are telling more and more close friends and family. I am about to tell my supervisor at work, because my consultant contract ends at the end of May and I need it renewed to the end of the summer. It's also getting harder and harder to hide the baby bump.&lt;br /&gt;Yesterday the first ever stranger noticed my pregnancy. She took me by surprise when she asked me when I was due. So I guess that means I am officially showing. Time to start shopping at maternity stores?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7075648795761456017-1102039324209117032?l=buddingviolet.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buddingviolet.blogspot.com/feeds/1102039324209117032/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://buddingviolet.blogspot.com/2009/03/oh-boy.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7075648795761456017/posts/default/1102039324209117032'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7075648795761456017/posts/default/1102039324209117032'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buddingviolet.blogspot.com/2009/03/oh-boy.html' title='Oh boy'/><author><name>Violet</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7075648795761456017.post-8546268324785398649</id><published>2009-03-27T15:23:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2009-03-27T15:24:32.035-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='First Trimester'/><title type='text'>The "Big" Ultrasound</title><content type='html'>Today I get my nuchal translucent ultrasound. I'm super excited. It's been four weeks since I've seen my baby!&lt;br /&gt;This is the one where they test for downs syndrome and measure the fetus to determine the exact due date. I'm aware that there could be something wrong, that perhaps I shouldn't be referring to Peanut as my baby just yet.&lt;br /&gt;But I can't help feeling excitement. It's like a loved one returning home from a trip abroad. I'm waiting at the airport, and the anticipation of seeing him/her is growing as the minutes tick away.&lt;br /&gt;First trimester is almost over and I feel fantastic.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7075648795761456017-8546268324785398649?l=buddingviolet.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buddingviolet.blogspot.com/feeds/8546268324785398649/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://buddingviolet.blogspot.com/2009/03/big-ultrasound.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7075648795761456017/posts/default/8546268324785398649'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7075648795761456017/posts/default/8546268324785398649'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buddingviolet.blogspot.com/2009/03/big-ultrasound.html' title='The &quot;Big&quot; Ultrasound'/><author><name>Angie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13343787859995799488</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YTu9cbydh4M/TTeCCu8vCNI/AAAAAAAAH2o/fNYX7IRub2Q/s1600-R/cauliflower_purple_cape.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7075648795761456017.post-271473308692990601</id><published>2009-03-23T15:56:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2009-03-23T16:53:27.605-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='First Trimester'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Thoughts'/><title type='text'>A selfish lifestyle</title><content type='html'>Some days I just don't want to be pregnant anymore. The end of this week marks the end of the first trimester. All I can think of is how much longer I have to go. All the books and websites say it should get better in the second trimester. That my libido will come back, that I'll stop being nauseous, that I'll regain some energy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When? WHEN?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Continuing the previous blog, although my father claims to be okay with the fact that I won't be getting married, he would like us to have a big, fat, fake wedding.&lt;br /&gt;He wants some sort of ceremony, (he suggested a Hindu one), to please the elders and the religious fanatics in the family. He says it doesn't have to be a legal marriage, just a religious one.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ridiculous.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Considering the fact that I'm an atheist, and my boyfriend is not Indian, going through the motions all the while rolling my eyes is just not going to happen. I told my father that he could just give me the money he would have spent on this charade.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I won't get married just to please other people. If it happens, it will be on our terms.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't understand how people can go through their whole lives just trying to please others. I'm just too selfish to live this way. This may be a negative trait, but I can't imagine the kind of person I'd be if I didn't carve out my own path. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A coworker friend mentioned that perhaps I should have never left the firm. Then I'd have health insurance and paid maternity leave and a job to come back to. Yes, this is true. I perhaps might have still met my boyfriend, as the circumstances surrounding our meeting were not extraordinary. I'd have job security.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But I would have never stepped out of my comfort zone. I would have never wondered a strange and foreign country. I would have never experienced the kind of freedom that comes from living life on your own terms.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am ready for the life ahead. I am ready for motherhood, ready for a steady relationship with the father of my child(ren). And I can look ahead without any regrets, without any desire to do things differently.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7075648795761456017-271473308692990601?l=buddingviolet.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buddingviolet.blogspot.com/feeds/271473308692990601/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://buddingviolet.blogspot.com/2009/03/selfish-lifestyle.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7075648795761456017/posts/default/271473308692990601'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7075648795761456017/posts/default/271473308692990601'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buddingviolet.blogspot.com/2009/03/selfish-lifestyle.html' title='A selfish lifestyle'/><author><name>Angie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13343787859995799488</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YTu9cbydh4M/TTeCCu8vCNI/AAAAAAAAH2o/fNYX7IRub2Q/s1600-R/cauliflower_purple_cape.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7075648795761456017.post-9219207995086394771</id><published>2009-03-17T16:09:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2009-03-17T16:13:32.814-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='First Trimester'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Moving'/><title type='text'>Brooklyn, we go hard</title><content type='html'>I moved this weekend. After much debate and deliberation, my boyfriend and I rented a large one-bedroom apartment in Brooklyn. I didn't contribute much to the actual move, just a little packing. And I moved some throw pillows. ;-) Right now most of the apartment is still in boxes. Working a full day takes a lot out of me, not to mention the longer commute. I get home, eat, and crash. My boyfriend's been doing most of everything, but that's the trade-off for him getting me to move to Brooklyn. I'm hoping to get it all done this weekend.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A few weeks ago I told my parents about the pregnancy. My parents live in the same house, and are legally married, but do not speak to each other and sleep in separate bedrooms. Much of this is due to my mother's inability to move past the past. I thought it would be only fair for me to tell them together.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ha. I underestimated my mother yet again. She got offended that I didn't tell her first, and alone. She, of course, made it all about her. Just as I predicted, she didn't even ask me how far along I was, or who the father was, or anything even remotely related to the baby, until the next day. She instead spent the next few hours talking about herself and about how she's going to be viewed by her family, and about how much of a non-relationship we have. I listened to her until she got tired of talking.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I expected all this to go exactly the way it went. But that doesn't mean it didn't affect me. She called the next day, calmer at first, but that quickly changed into the same song and dance. This time I was less patient and lost my temper. That was the last time we spoke.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I will eventually speak to her again, but it won't be for a few more weeks. I'm waiting until my second trimester. These next couple of weeks are critical, and I don't want to be stressed out by my mother.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My father took the news like I knew he would. He's happy at the prospect of being a granddad. I told him that we weren't planning on getting married anytime soon, and he seemed fine with that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Seemed being the operative word.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;...to be continued.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7075648795761456017-9219207995086394771?l=buddingviolet.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buddingviolet.blogspot.com/feeds/9219207995086394771/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://buddingviolet.blogspot.com/2009/03/brooklyn-we-go-hard.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7075648795761456017/posts/default/9219207995086394771'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7075648795761456017/posts/default/9219207995086394771'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buddingviolet.blogspot.com/2009/03/brooklyn-we-go-hard.html' title='Brooklyn, we go hard'/><author><name>Angie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13343787859995799488</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YTu9cbydh4M/TTeCCu8vCNI/AAAAAAAAH2o/fNYX7IRub2Q/s1600-R/cauliflower_purple_cape.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7075648795761456017.post-3771483399994788417</id><published>2009-03-13T13:13:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2009-03-13T13:15:02.867-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='First Trimester'/><title type='text'>Non-entry</title><content type='html'>I need to write more. I need to start reading again. Life is just too hectic to do either. I feel so boxed in, with no outlet for all that's going on, both physically and mentally. So many changes. It's hard to find a moment to breathe.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Things I need to write about:&lt;br /&gt;Telling the parents&lt;br /&gt;Marriage&lt;br /&gt;My belly&lt;br /&gt;Moving&lt;br /&gt;Domestic partnership&lt;br /&gt;Getaway&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Soon, soon, I hope.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ten weeks and counting...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7075648795761456017-3771483399994788417?l=buddingviolet.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buddingviolet.blogspot.com/feeds/3771483399994788417/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://buddingviolet.blogspot.com/2009/03/non-entry.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7075648795761456017/posts/default/3771483399994788417'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7075648795761456017/posts/default/3771483399994788417'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buddingviolet.blogspot.com/2009/03/non-entry.html' title='Non-entry'/><author><name>Angie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13343787859995799488</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YTu9cbydh4M/TTeCCu8vCNI/AAAAAAAAH2o/fNYX7IRub2Q/s1600-R/cauliflower_purple_cape.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7075648795761456017.post-1517426727463854434</id><published>2009-02-23T16:45:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2009-02-23T16:56:38.050-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='First Trimester'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Thoughts'/><title type='text'>Reflection</title><content type='html'>I'm back to my normal self, save the nausea. The moodiness is gone. This has got to be how depression feels. When I'm out of it I reflect back and wonder why I give little things so much power, and why I get so out of control. When I'm in it though, I have little regard for anything else besides my own feelings. Everything makes me miserable.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This behavior reminds me of my mom at her worst. I've been thinking a lot about her, and I'm beginning to understand more and more her behavior and the way she is. Maybe there is hope for a relationship between us after all.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7075648795761456017-1517426727463854434?l=buddingviolet.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buddingviolet.blogspot.com/feeds/1517426727463854434/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://buddingviolet.blogspot.com/2009/02/reflection.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7075648795761456017/posts/default/1517426727463854434'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7075648795761456017/posts/default/1517426727463854434'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buddingviolet.blogspot.com/2009/02/reflection.html' title='Reflection'/><author><name>Angie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13343787859995799488</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YTu9cbydh4M/TTeCCu8vCNI/AAAAAAAAH2o/fNYX7IRub2Q/s1600-R/cauliflower_purple_cape.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7075648795761456017.post-3543106272009836995</id><published>2009-02-19T12:48:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2009-02-19T13:24:24.472-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='First Trimester'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Symptoms'/><title type='text'>Normalcy</title><content type='html'>I get moody every Thursday and Friday.&lt;br /&gt;I've become clingy.&lt;br /&gt;I'm so attached to my boyfriend that it scares me.&lt;br /&gt;I don't know what to do to make myself feel better. I don't know what will help.&lt;br /&gt;I know the feeling will pass. It usually does. They say the second trimester is mood-free. I can't wait.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;These days, I just want normalcy. He's house-sitting at a wonderful penthouse apartment in Dumbo. The plan was for me to stay there with him. I've been there since Tuesday and I hate it. I hate the lumpy bed. I hate not being able to make myself a decent meal. The owner is an architect with old world taste. He has a nice kitchen but no modern appliances. He has no non-stick pans. No kitchen utensils.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So obviously I need to go back to my apartment, where I'm comfortable, where I feel at home. It's what's best for me and peanut. I'm making myself miserable because I don't want to leave him. I don't want to sleep without him for the next ten days.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm a hot mess.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7075648795761456017-3543106272009836995?l=buddingviolet.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buddingviolet.blogspot.com/feeds/3543106272009836995/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://buddingviolet.blogspot.com/2009/02/normalcy.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7075648795761456017/posts/default/3543106272009836995'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7075648795761456017/posts/default/3543106272009836995'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buddingviolet.blogspot.com/2009/02/normalcy.html' title='Normalcy'/><author><name>Angie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13343787859995799488</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YTu9cbydh4M/TTeCCu8vCNI/AAAAAAAAH2o/fNYX7IRub2Q/s1600-R/cauliflower_purple_cape.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7075648795761456017.post-8870212491028434806</id><published>2009-02-17T12:20:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2009-02-17T13:02:16.472-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='First Trimester'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Moving'/><title type='text'>My Baby Daddy</title><content type='html'>I'm dreading the "Why aren't you getting married?" questions that will come from every angle. Family, co-workers, random people on the street. One part of me just wants to stick a silver band on my ring finger and avoid the questions all together. What's the difference? I'm not trying to trap him. I know he'll be there. We are building a life together, we just aren't legally bound to each other. A piece of paper won't make us but it might break us. It will create a pressure that somehow we HAVE to be together forever. I want us to be together because we want to, not for any other reason.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Things are great with us. We spend ALOT of time together. He's planning on moving into my apartment at the end of this month. We will live there for a few months then move into a bigger space. My lease isn't up until December but I live on the fifth floor of a walk-up so I'll have Dr. Pepper write a note saying that it's become medically impossible for me to walk up all those stairs. Right now the debate is over where to live. I naturally prefer Queens, because it's what I know and where all my family lives. For this same reason, he prefers Brooklyn.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Physically, I feel good. The mood swings are becoming less frequent, and I don't get nauseous anymore unless I go long periods without eating. I gained another pound, but that's probably from the red meat/carb overload this weekend.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7075648795761456017-8870212491028434806?l=buddingviolet.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buddingviolet.blogspot.com/feeds/8870212491028434806/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://buddingviolet.blogspot.com/2009/02/my-baby-daddy.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7075648795761456017/posts/default/8870212491028434806'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7075648795761456017/posts/default/8870212491028434806'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buddingviolet.blogspot.com/2009/02/my-baby-daddy.html' title='My Baby Daddy'/><author><name>Angie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13343787859995799488</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YTu9cbydh4M/TTeCCu8vCNI/AAAAAAAAH2o/fNYX7IRub2Q/s1600-R/cauliflower_purple_cape.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7075648795761456017.post-2437422217281950554</id><published>2009-02-13T16:22:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2009-02-13T16:26:11.827-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='First Trimester'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Symptoms'/><title type='text'>Fatigue</title><content type='html'>I'm definitely pregnant. I have the ultrasound photo to prove it. My due date is early October. We visited the OB/GYN on Wednesday. He's great, and really made me feel at ease. Lets call him Dr. Pepper. He didn't charge for the visit, and didn't do any tests.  When I go back in two weeks (when my insurance coverage begins) all the blood work and whatever else that needs to be done will be done. I've started taking prenatal vitamins and fish oil capsules.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've gained two pounds. It's all water weight and all in my belly. And I'm tired all the time. So far, that's the most annoying part of the pregnancy. I have cancelled afterwork plans multiple times this week because I was just too tired to do anything but go home and go to sleep. I also have lame excuses for my friends since they don't know about the pregnancy as yet. They must think I'm such a flake.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm also still dealing with mood swings. I try to "reason" myself out of them though, telling myself that I'm not really mad/sad, that it's just a symptom. Thankfully, this passes relatively quickly.&lt;br /&gt;The nausea hasn't been too bad either. To keep it at bay, I need to eat every few hours. My fridge is now stocked with lots of fruit, veggies, milk and yogurt. I get a wave of nausea when taking the vitamins in the morning, but that passes after five minutes, and I haven't yet thrown up. [knock on wood.]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My &lt;u&gt;Pregnancy for Dummies&lt;/u&gt; book (recommended my Dr. Pepper) says that the fatigue, mood swings and nausea will go away at the second trimester. Yay! I can't wait to be less tired again!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today I'm telling one of my closest friends. She's been away and we haven't seen each other for about a month, which is rare for us. I'm excited to see her reaction, especially since she's always warning me about the dangers of the "pull-out" method. I believe it was early January that we joked about me already being pregnant and having a Virgo baby. Hehe.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7075648795761456017-2437422217281950554?l=buddingviolet.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buddingviolet.blogspot.com/feeds/2437422217281950554/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://buddingviolet.blogspot.com/2009/02/fatigue.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7075648795761456017/posts/default/2437422217281950554'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7075648795761456017/posts/default/2437422217281950554'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buddingviolet.blogspot.com/2009/02/fatigue.html' title='Fatigue'/><author><name>Angie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13343787859995799488</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YTu9cbydh4M/TTeCCu8vCNI/AAAAAAAAH2o/fNYX7IRub2Q/s1600-R/cauliflower_purple_cape.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7075648795761456017.post-1921417684529301595</id><published>2009-02-05T09:39:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2009-02-05T19:43:38.381-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Insurance'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='First Trimester'/><title type='text'>Fears</title><content type='html'>I don't quite know how to put my feelings into words. I'm so scared of losing it. It's so soon. My boyfriend and I are still trying to figure everything out. He told his mother today. She wasn't pleased. She doesn't think we are financially stable enough to have a child.&lt;br /&gt;It's not perfect, but it feels right. I'm 28. He's 35. It's time. But every once in a while I wonder if we are both crazy. This is a total lifestyle change.&lt;br /&gt;How will it affect our relationship? We did everything quickly. We met, and it was such an instant connection that we didn't wait the customary three days to call, or wait to see each other. From the beginning the chemistry was so palpable, that it was (almost) love at first sight.&lt;br /&gt;So it makes sense that this would be fast as well. The pace of our relationship is just different from what is considered "normal."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Everything is just so new. We are not telling anyone else. Only one person (yes you!) knows about this blog. Two of my girlfriends know. His mother and his best friend know. I want to keep it that way for now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I see a doctor next Wednesday. One of my boyfriend's client is an OB/GYN and he has agreed to see me even without insurance, and won't charge us. He said that he would take whatever insurance we get. That's a huge weight off my chest.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just can't deal with negativity from other people right now. I just need to believe that what I'm am choosing for myself is right without other people's opinions clouding my outlook. This is why I am not telling my mother as yet. I have no idea how she will react. I don't want to deal with it right now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just want to be healthy. These are the most crucial months. Anything could happen.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7075648795761456017-1921417684529301595?l=buddingviolet.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buddingviolet.blogspot.com/feeds/1921417684529301595/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://buddingviolet.blogspot.com/2009/02/fears.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7075648795761456017/posts/default/1921417684529301595'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7075648795761456017/posts/default/1921417684529301595'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buddingviolet.blogspot.com/2009/02/fears.html' title='Fears'/><author><name>Angie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13343787859995799488</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YTu9cbydh4M/TTeCCu8vCNI/AAAAAAAAH2o/fNYX7IRub2Q/s1600-R/cauliflower_purple_cape.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7075648795761456017.post-5905781421839155717</id><published>2009-02-04T15:20:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2009-02-04T15:27:49.174-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Insurance'/><title type='text'>Positively Pregnant</title><content type='html'>I went to planned parenthood today for pregnancy testing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was positive.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I expected it. I'm not so much in shock as I am stressing about how to get health insurance. I signed up for insurance from the Freelancers Union. That won't start until March. I guess I could wait until then to get my first exam, but I don't want to risk it. I know I got pregnant in the month of January. I'm hoping I'm just three weeks along now, but I could be five weeks, which means I'd be nine weeks by March.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I will have to pay for the first exam myself. So now I'm trying to find the right place with the right price for me. And also trying to relax.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is good. I am ready. I have a good man by my side. Everything happens the way it's supposed to. I am going to be a mommy.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7075648795761456017-5905781421839155717?l=buddingviolet.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buddingviolet.blogspot.com/feeds/5905781421839155717/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://buddingviolet.blogspot.com/2009/02/positively-pregnant.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7075648795761456017/posts/default/5905781421839155717'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7075648795761456017/posts/default/5905781421839155717'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buddingviolet.blogspot.com/2009/02/positively-pregnant.html' title='Positively Pregnant'/><author><name>Angie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13343787859995799488</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YTu9cbydh4M/TTeCCu8vCNI/AAAAAAAAH2o/fNYX7IRub2Q/s1600-R/cauliflower_purple_cape.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7075648795761456017.post-4880327100701562212</id><published>2009-02-03T14:32:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2009-02-03T14:34:19.145-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Thoughts'/><title type='text'>How it (could have) happened</title><content type='html'>Early on in my relationship my boyfriend and I discussed birth control methods. He had been using the "pull-out" method for 12 years and had never gotten any of his previous girlfriends pregnant. With a record like that who could argue, especially since I did not want to go back on the Pill.&lt;br /&gt;I told him that this method was fine, but if I ever got pregnant, he would be a father. I am pro-choice, but I know I'd never be able to live with myself if I got pregnant and didn't keep the baby. Especially not at age 28.&lt;br /&gt;I'm mentally ready for children. With my current boyfriend. That's why I didn't object. I know that if I did not want to get pregnant, I would have chosen a safer birth control method.&lt;br /&gt;I realize now that I never wanted to have children with my previous boyfriend, whom I dated for four years. If ever there was a possibilities I'd get pregnant, I would get morning after pills. I took no chances.&lt;br /&gt;Of course the timing is anything but ideal. I have only known my boyfriend for two months. I don't have health insurance and make too much to qualify for public health insurance. My job is ending soon.&lt;br /&gt;But I have a sense that this is right, that this is how it's supposed to happen. Maybe this was where my journey meant to take me. There are no mis-steps in life.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7075648795761456017-4880327100701562212?l=buddingviolet.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buddingviolet.blogspot.com/feeds/4880327100701562212/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://buddingviolet.blogspot.com/2009/02/how-it-could-have-happened.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7075648795761456017/posts/default/4880327100701562212'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7075648795761456017/posts/default/4880327100701562212'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buddingviolet.blogspot.com/2009/02/how-it-could-have-happened.html' title='How it (could have) happened'/><author><name>Angie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13343787859995799488</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YTu9cbydh4M/TTeCCu8vCNI/AAAAAAAAH2o/fNYX7IRub2Q/s1600-R/cauliflower_purple_cape.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7075648795761456017.post-7674748186550811026</id><published>2009-02-02T12:05:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2009-02-02T12:18:15.356-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Test'/><title type='text'>Testing</title><content type='html'>Life is about to change drastically.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've been dealing with eratic mood swings and irrational food cravings. I chalked it up to a severe case of PMS. Until it lasted longer than usual and my period never came.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On a whim I took a pregnancy test on Friday evening. It was the first I have ever taken. It was the kind that creates a plus sign if you are and a minus if you aren't. The first test showed a faint vertical line, but it was so faint and I had no experience with this sort of thing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Two tests came in the box. I had plans on Saturday night that included drinking, so I decided to take the second one just to be sure. This time the plus was so prevelant that I had to sit down.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm going to a doctor on Wednesday to take another one. I'll know for sure at that point.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;...at which point I'll either shut down this blog or have something to write about for the next 9+ months.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7075648795761456017-7674748186550811026?l=buddingviolet.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buddingviolet.blogspot.com/feeds/7674748186550811026/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://buddingviolet.blogspot.com/2009/02/testing.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7075648795761456017/posts/default/7674748186550811026'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7075648795761456017/posts/default/7674748186550811026'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buddingviolet.blogspot.com/2009/02/testing.html' title='Testing'/><author><name>Violet</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
