Saturday, June 28, 2008

That Face

"Those cheeks, that neck, that chin / Will surely do me in"

Oh my god, you guys. My baby is the most adorable baby EVER. I've seen a lot of cute babies in my time , but holy crap my baby is the cutest. Every day I have a full meal with her cheeks as appetizer, her neck as an entree, and her chin for dessert. Yummers nummers!

Diana's Lolo and Lola arrived today from Baltimore for a week-long visit and they noticed that she's a very smiley baby. I know that her "smiles" are really just her getting used to her face, so I'm trying not to read anything into her expressions. I do admit it's fun guessing the various personalities she is trying out.

I call this one Morty, the glad-handing used car salesman: "How ya doin'? What would it take to get you into this gawgeous Chevy Impala?" [Check out that fabulous male pattern baldness.]

This one is Scar, the Pirate Who Only Says "Yarrr!" [Yes, she scratched up her face. Stupid muscle control.]

Gollum wantss the Preciouss!

DJ Kidlat in the hizz, dropping beats like hotcakes! Holla!

The newest one in her repertoire surfaced on Thursday. My baby transformed into [le gasp] Oprah: "I feel your pain, sisterfriend."

So, yeah. My baby is awesome. She's eating, sleeping, and pooping like she's been doing it all her life. I may not be able to post very much for a while, but I'm sleeping way better than expected for someone with an 11-day-old; like four hours at a stretch sometimes. [I just jinxed myself, didn't I?] It wouldn't be possible without my fantastic partner and husband, who is an expert at diaper duty and kitchen cleanup. Go Team Everman! Now with Diana, Wonder Baby!


"That Face" from The Producers

Thursday, June 19, 2008

My Girl

"I've got sunshine on a cloudy day / When it's cold outside / I've got the month of May / I guess you'd say / What could make me feel this way? / My girl"

My darling one has been asleep for the last hour or so -- thanks to Daddy's magic rocking-baby-girl-to-sleep arms -- which means it is almost time for another feeding. I know, I know, I'm totally ignoring the advice of all the people who said I should sleep when the baby sleeps, but a lot of those same people also have been asking about the baby, so they can shut up and read. A longer post will be forthcoming . . . eventually. In the meantime:

WELCOME TO THE WORLD, WEE ONE!

Diana Florecita Everman

Named after Dusty's mom, Diana, and my mom, Florecita
Born on: Tuesday, June 17, 2008 at high noon
Weight: 6 pounds 11 ounces
Length: 19 inches
Hair Color: Brown
Eye Color: Gunmetal Gray
Fingers: 10
Toes: 10
Cheeks: Nummers
Hours I Spent in Labor: 41
Times I've Said "Nipple" in the Last 48 Hours: 135
[I can't say "nipple" while I'm asleep; I've tried.]

Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to go fall in love some more.


"My Girl" by The Temptations

Saturday, June 14, 2008

It's Not Easy Being Green

"When green is all there is to be / it could make you wonder why, / but why wonder, why wonder? / I am green and it'll do fine, it's beautiful! / And I think it's what I want to be."

Well, at least one good thing has come out of my wee tenant STILL ignoring my eviction notices: Dusty and I were able to go to a matinee showing of The Incredible Hulk this afternoon. If Wonder Woman is the superhero I wish I could be, then the Hulk is the flawed and broken superhero I already am. You wouldn't like me when I'm angry. I don't like me when I'm angry. And apparently, Bruce Banner doesn't like himself when he's angry, either. I feel you, brah. Seriously.

About a week ago, I caught the last hour of Ang Lee's much-maligned Hulk on Spike TV. That version starred one of my former boys, Eric Bana, and Dusty's girl Jennifer Connelly, and I still thought it was terrible. Bana's Banner didn't like himself when he's angry, but holy Mary was he more whiny about it than Edward Norton's Banner. Bana was only working with what he was given, but it's still clear that Norton is a far superior actor who can convey emotion with just a furrow of his brow. I also really identified with this Bruce Banner's attempts at controlling or at least channeling his anger. If I must go into "Cookie smash!" mode sometimes, I would like to have a good reason to do it.

Since the new Hulk movie just opened on Friday night, I won't say too much more about it. You really should just go see it. Dusty and I both really enjoyed ourselves and there were so many cinematic treats for fans and newbies alike. Speaking of treats, this is better than the trailer for selling the movie. I just watched it again and peed my pants, and not just because there's an overdue live human being pressing on my bladder.


"It's Not Easy Being Green" sung by Kermit the Frog

Thursday, June 12, 2008

Wait

"When all we wanted was the dream / to have and to hold / that precious little thing / like every generation yields /the newborn hope unjaded by the years"

So today is the baby's due date. The back pains and INTENSE Braxton-Hicks contractions began at 5 AM, but there wasn't a discernible pattern then and there still isn't one now, more than 12 hours later. I went in for my weekly checkup this afternoon and the midwife says everything is going fine and I should be delivering soon. Not soon enough, sister!

To distract myself from the pain and achiness this morning, I cleaned the kitchen thoroughly. You could lick those counters in a totally R-rated way; they're that spotless. Then I made myself some tea and breakfast and booted up the interwebs.

My "How your baby is developing" email of the week said: "Congratulations on your newborn!"

Dear babycenter.ca: FUCK YOU.

Dear Maricel, Ling, Betsy, and every other woman I may have called during essentially her tenth month of pregnancy "just to check in and see if you've given birth yet": I AM SO SORRY.

Dear anyone who is thinking of calling me just to check in and see if I've given birth yet: PLEASE DON'T.

I really appreciate your concern and your good thoughts and wishes, but I'm SUPER cranky about being in pain and having to wait for my body to do something about it. I don't want you to call and catch me in a foul mood. You don't want to call and catch me in a foul mood. Seriously, if I'm in a foul enough mood, I could open one or more of my nine mouths and sing us all into the End Times. I don't want that on my conscience and neither do you.

And so we wait.


"Wait" by Sarah McLachlan

Wednesday, June 11, 2008

They Drink Tea

"There are those who love to get dirty and fix things. / They drink coffee at dawn, beer after work. / And those who stay clean, just appreciate things. / At breakfast they have milk and juice at night. / There are those who do both; they drink tea.”

Yesterday was mostly gray, cold, and wet, so I went to the Old Strathcona Antique Mall, one of my favorite places to while away a rainy afternoon. After spending an hour and a half amongst the treasures of another generation, I purchased two gorgeous teacup and saucer sets and unwittingly became an antiques collector. To celebrate my newfound old-lady hobby, Dusty and I drank our breakfast tea in those lovely teacups this morning, with our pinkies raised.

This isn't the first time I've bought teacups and saucers. Anyone who has been to our house knows Dusty and I are tea snobs who prefer looseleaf tea, so it was only natural that I would gravitate toward collecting teatime dishes. I bought my first "grownup" tea set -- eight teacups and saucers -- at a thrift store in San Bruno, CA, about ten years ago. The entire set was from Pottery Barn and they were immaculate, pure white porcelain with no nicks or scratches. The set only cost $16, but I was a mostly-broke recent college graduate living in a tiny studio apartment, so I questioned the wisdom of buying the set only to leave it in the box for future use.

It was also hard for me to believe someone would get rid of such a beautiful and useful set of dishes for such a low price, so I made up a story about how the owner got rid of it after a nasty divorce. The reason why there were only eight in the set is because she threw the other four cups and saucers at her ex's head. This sordid background story made me really want the set and I went back the next day to buy it. That Christmas, my mom gave me a teapot, sugar bowl, and creamer set decorated with pansies. That tea service and the bitter divorcee's teacup and saucer set have become regular fixtures at our dinner parties.

Shortly after Dusty and I moved to Edmonton, we became friends with Laurel, who has an exquisite collection of patterned teacups and saucers handed down from her mother and aunts. The teacups and saucers are not part of a matching set. In fact, no two are alike. Laurel knew their histories and what styles they were and I really should've paid more attention. All I could think about was that they were as lovely as a field of porcelain flowers. I was clearly falling in love.

A couple of months later, I paid $5 for my first patterned teacup and saucer from Value Village:

It's actually my least favorite because the bowl of the cup isn't quite low or wide enough for my liking, and there are tea stains at the bottom. But it was my first, so it'll stay in the collection. Redheaded stepchildren need love, too.

I got this one a few weeks later at the Old Strathcona Antique Mall:

It's a step up in price and quality. It's only stamped "Made in Japan" at the bottom, just as my first one is only stamped "Made in England", meaning they were both probably mass-produced, but this one seems like it's made of finer material.

So what made me an official collector with the two I purchased yesterday? Well, for starters, their combined cost is double the combined cost of the first two. The handles are more ornate and the colors are more vivid. They are also the first ones that are part of limited edition styles. For example, this one is a Heathcote:

And this one is an Adderley:

I know I wrote that like I know what I'm talking about, but I just read what it says at the bottom of the cup. I don't even know if I'm referring to the parts of the teacup correctly. All I know is that these teacups and saucers are really pretty and I like them a lot.

When one of the vendors at the Antique Mall saw me admiring the Heathcote, he gave me his card and told me he could get me a better deal on Heathcotes, as well as Paragons and Royal Alberts. [The interwebs says some of those styles could fetch up to $40 for one teacup and saucer!] Then he asked me what I look for when I'm "purchasing" for my "collection". [Here I thought I was just buying purdy thangs.] I felt like I should say something intelligent, like "I check that the gilt edges are intact and that there are no markings." Instead, I answered honestly: "I just wait for them to call out to me."

Well, fancy that. I'm an antiques collector now, y'all.

"They Drink Tea" is a poem by Gary Snyder

Tuesday, June 10, 2008

I Will Love You for Miles

"I took her picture / but not of her face / 'cause I love her fingers / every wrinkle and trace. / She sighed when she saw it; / she said, 'They look old.' / And I said, 'Naw.'"

I was in the kitchen making dinner when I heard these words float into the air from the iPod dock speakers. I stopped cutting up carrots and just listened. I let the refrain wash over me: "I will love you for miles. I will love you for miles. I will love you for miles, until this road ends." I wiped my eyes and called my husband at work to ask him to come home right away.

Twenty minutes later, I watched from the kitchen window as Dusty pulled up on his bike. I heard the door open and Dusty's shoes fall onto the back door rug. I stood at the top step while he stood on the middle step so I could wrap my arms around his neck. "Hi," I said. "Come listen to this song. It made me miss you." He listened, a little puzzled about why it made me miss him. I reminded him of an incident from two weeks ago. He smiled and kissed the top of my head.

About two weeks ago, Dusty and I were watching TV together and I noted with some dismay how swollen my hands and feet had become. I sighed and said, "My fingers look like sausages, all fat and stumpy." And Dusty said, "Naw. They look like baby fingers, all chubby and cute. You're just trying to make sure Button doesn't feel weird about having chubby fingers. They'll look the same as Mama's." Then he kissed my hands.

Husband, I will love you for miles. I will love you for miles. I will love you for miles, until this road ends.


"I Will Love You for Miles" by Danny Michel

Thursday, June 5, 2008

Ready to Go

"You sleep, too deep / one week is another world / Big mouth, big mouth / drop out, drop out / On the rooftops shouting out / Baby, I'm ready to go"

My hands, wrists, and shoulders alternate between numb and sore. My back is giving out and no amount of pillows support me well in bed. My midsection feels like my inner dominatrix is constantly tightening and loosening the stays on my corset. And she's not being gentle about it. My toes and fingers are painfully swollen. I can barely get my hands around each other to make a church and a steeple and when I open it up to see the people, they are all fat and stumpy!

I want to work in my garden, but sitting on the ground hurts my tailbone and squatting for too long with no back support makes my legs go numb. I want to walk around the block, but just walking around the front and back yard this morning to pull exactly five weeds wore me out. I want to sleep when Dusty sleeps, but the alien parasite inside me has decided that human beings don't sleep at 11:30 PM. We apparently only sleep in the middle of the day, for an hour or two at a time, in between eating and running to the bathroom.

I am so very, very tired of being pregnant.

Oh Taweret, ancient goddess of childbirth and protector of women, I invoke thee. This child is due in one week. Help me get through these last few days. And please don't let this kid be on Pilipino time.

I am SO ready to go.


"Ready to Go" by Republica

Sunday, June 1, 2008

I Want Your Sex

"There's things that you guess / and things that you know / There's little things you hide / and little things that you show"

On Friday I went to the opening night of Sex and the City: The Movie with Jenny, Abbie, Cori and Cori's friend Cindy. About half of Edmonton's female population was at South Commons that night; the line for the bathroom was staggering. I only saw two men in our particular theater and they were a couple. A lot of gals were decked out for this premiere in swingy dresses, high heels, even tiaras. Jenny and Abbie got me a tiara just for the occasion [thanks, girls!], so I'm glad that I went home after work to "put my face on" and change my jewelry before heading to the movie.

So did I like the movie? Well, I went into it with every low expectations. After all, SATC was the epitome of Folding Laundry TV for me. The episodes were in 30-minute bites, the drama was fairly predictable and easy to follow, and the players were all one- or two-note-characters. The biggest reason to look up from my task was to gawk at the fashion. Oh, and ogle John Corbett as Aidan. He was the best thing on that show. And he wasn't in the movie. AT ALL. That cost the movie major points.

Something else that cost the movie points: it clocked in at a full 2 1/2 hours. That's five episodes long! And the plot centered on Carrie and Big, arguably the two most shallow, self-centered, and BORING characters on the show. After watching Carrie angsting over Big [AGAIN] while she wore Patricia Field's crazy costumes, I have never been so happy to be a married, knocked-up suburban hippie living in BFE. I just don't think I have what it takes to be a single fashionista living in NYC. Mostly because I think these are an abomination unto the gods:


Those are Christian Dior Gladiator platforms, a style very similar to the ones Sarah Jessica Parker's Carrie was sporting throughout the movie. Yes, they really are that ugly. Yes, they really cost $770.00. And yes, she really wore them with this:

Excuse me while I apply salve to my retinas . . . there.

I suppose if you're a really big fan of the show, you will love the movie no matter what, but I found it to be an overlong and unnecessary appendix to the show. The characters have grown older, but no wiser. They kept repeating the same mistakes they made five, even ten years ago. That might be entertaining for the 30 minutes it takes me to fold laundry, but it gets tiresome when I have nothing else to do but pay close attention to the shenanigans of these self-absorbed neurotic harpies.

If you decide to see SATC: The Movie anyway, three things:

1) Make it a night out with your girlfriends. The main message of the show seemed to be that men and trends come and go, but your girlfriends are forever. As shallow as the rest of it was, that message still rings true in the movie. Make it a Girlfriend Appreciation Evening.

2) Go in with very low expectations. You will not learn anything new, much like the characters themselves. Think of the movie like a scoop of coconut gelato: it's light and fluffy and a nice change of pace, but then it's gone and you can go back to your regularly-scheduled coffee chocolate chunk ice cream.

3) Wear a tiara. That always helps.



"I Want Your Sex" by George Michael