Monday, September 29, 2008

why god whyeee?

I had my monthly check up today. All the usual stuff: weigh-in, blood pressure, doppler to hear the baby's heart rate. My new doctor, by the way, is lovely! It's so refreshing to find someone I really like. And it makes all the prodding and poking during the pregnancy months much easier to tolerate.

Anyway, all fine, until I mention the large bruise on my leg which has been lurking for the last three months. "That's not normal, is it?" I asked Dr K. "I'm afraid it's not a bruise." She says. "You're one of the unlucky ones to get varicose veins." I said "Awww crap! Can you remove them please?" After the baby she can, apparently. Not before

Thank god summer is over and I can hide under long pants until I get the blighters removed. They're not REALLY bad - not like 80 year-old lady bad, but still. I gotta get 'em out.
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Wednesday, September 17, 2008

Gone right off Batman

J and I are at the theatre watching The Dark Knight. I've been looking forward to this: a date, just the two of us on a Friday night, and a whole delicious 90 minutes of Christian Bale. So we're sitting there (no popcorn - maybe that was the problem?), and about a quarter of the way through the show I start thinking... this film is violent. Too violent. Keith Ledger's Joker character is too menacing - with his knife-scarred face and incessant lip-licking. I'm certain the author of Batman didn't intend it to be this sinister. (J assured me afterward that actually it was: the Dark Knight, as the name suggests, has a dark side and happy endings and cupcakes are not part of the plot here apparently)

I start to get fidgety. The baby is kicking me like a tiny footballer because of all the coca cola I've consumed; The person behind me keeps rocking my chair with his foot; The film is too loud; They should not have replaced Katie Holmes with Maggie Gyllenhaal - she's just not right, too drippy or something. I spend the next hour and a half thinking about ways to sneak out the theatre. There's fizzy pop drinks and chocolate out there. Much more appealing.

Before the credits are even up I turn to J and exclaim "thank GOD that is over" slightly too loudly. He peers at me suspiciously, like I've just slammed the Star Wars trilogies. "Really? I thought it was great."

I get the feeling from the excited comments leaving the theatre that everyone else liked it too.

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Thursday, September 4, 2008

The thrill of the race

I get why some, or maybe many Canadians are more interested in the US election than our own. We prefer celebrity stories to politics, and their elections provide more than enough glitz to keep us tuned in.

The last month or so I've seen Sarah Palin on the cover of several gossip rags. But then again she has her own soap opera going on. I won't get into my opinion of her here. Okay just briefly. Let me just say, that this woman opposes abortion even in cases of rape and incest, believes creationism should be taught in schools, and, while mayor of Wasilla made rape victims pay for their own rape tests. No way she'd be getting my vote (nor would any of the other right-wing wrinklies for that matter - bring on Obama!).

So while their juicy campaign stoires are flashing up in the media all the time - do our election leaders seem a little dull in contrast? What do us apethetic audiences need to get interested? Maybe Dion and Harper should sex it up a bit to pull a few more voters to the polls (only about 41% of Albertans voted in the last provincial election).

But seriously, saying that makes me a little sad... as someone who feels it's in everyone's interest - everyone who has a house, job, kids, a car, cares about the environment or uses public services, that is - to follow politics to some degree, I feel a tad disolutioned that we need more sex in our politics to pay attention. Shouldn't we just want to care what's happening to our country?
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Monday, September 1, 2008

Hi honey I think I'm pregnant again

I like pregnancy a whole lot better the second time around. I don't mind so much that every time I look in the mirror my body is different, or that my appetite is sometimes so out of control that I could very well drive out in the middle of the night to the nearest KFC for a bucket of fried chicken. I've become attached to my bulging belly that makes me waddle a little when I walk. Yes, I even quite like the way I look. I may never look this way again, after all.

The first time around, I was so clueless that I buried myself in all the parenting material I could get my hands on: books, magazines, online forums, Internet articles, advice from well-intentioned friends and family and weird advice from random people who felt it necessary to stop me on the street when they saw my bump. I read up on breastfeeding, baby wearing, bathing, sleeping and diapering, like my life (and the baby's) depended on it. By the time Matthew came along I was in such a state of near-hysteria from the thought of all the rules of parenting, that I barely knew what to do with myself. And then, after a few weeks, it hit me. I STILL KNEW NOTHING. None of the stuff I had spent hours absorbing meant a damn thing. I was going to have to get on with it, my way.

A year and a bit later and here I am again. This time much more nonchalant about the whole thing. Mind you, it's easy for me to say that now. I'm in the 2nd trimester pleasant place: not sick, not too big, not too uncomfortable, not too close to the end... yet. I still have plenty of time (4 whole months!) to ponder the idea of becoming a family of 4 (5 if you include the dog).
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