What we've been up to lately:
Last Friday we went to poker night, attended by about 16 of DH's coworkers and their significant others. They get together and do this every week; it was our first time joining the party. I am pretty shy around groups of new people, letting DH be our PR Director (we find that using executive titles helps bring clarity to our marriage). I knew it would be a long evening for me, with two bad signs right off the bat. First, the female guests arrived in ascending order of dress size. So for the first half hour, it was me in all my eighth-month-of-pregnancy glory and a handful of girls who were size zero. On a fat day. I don't think I could fit one of my arms in a leg of their pants. Second, before noticing there was a preggo in her midst, one of the Size Zero Sistas made a comment about how she couldn't understand why anyone would want a baby when they could be out having fun. She followed that brilliant bit of pondering with a joking observation that "there used to be a pregnant girl in the group, but we kicked her out." (They didn't really, of course; that girl and her husband moved out of state right before the baby came.) But ouch. The night improved from there, fortunately, and as everyone else got drunk, it was much easier for me to chat with people. On the down side, however, I discovered that I find poker incredibly boring and pointless. Good thing I'll soon be home covered in baby spit-up instead of out having fun with the tiny people.
On Sunday we saw the movie Juno with one of DH's coworkers and his wife. I recommend you go see it, if you haven't already. Taken on a surface level, the dialog is hilarious and the story is interesting. As a rule, I generally approach my books and movies on a surface level, hence a bookshelf full of fluffy romance novels and a DVD collection dominated by "Family Guy" episodes -- I do enough thinking in real life. (No comments here, please.) But with motherhood and fertility/infertility being the major themes of Juno, this movie did reach me deeper. Without giving away anything, the movie is about a 16-year-old girl who unintentionally gets pregnant and decides to allow an infertile couple to adopt the baby. During the movie, I was a bit nervous... there were several jokes made about infertility that can be hard to take if you've been there (references to the women being "baby obsessed" or "greedily collecting babies" via adoption). The rest of the audience laughed at these, which I do understand, and DH and I squeezed hands in sympathy. But near the end there is a beautiful scene that had me in tears (and crying the whole way home), and I decided I did like the movie. Although it oversimplified and glossed over many of the intense and conflicting emotions that would be involved in a situation like this, there is a wonderful message about what really makes you a mother. Hint: It's not a gigantic belly.
Coming up this month:
- This Saturday evening, I'm going to a mom's night out dinner organized by a mom's group in the area. They seem nice (via email, at least), and it'll be good to meet them before Bean arrives. Plus I could use a few hours away from the dog.
- We are taking an all-day first aid and infant/child CPR class with the Red Cross on the 26th. The brochure says you have to actually pass the class, it's not just informational... great, another test for me to fret about! Motherhood is already so much harder than I thought.
- I broke down and agreed to do the childbirth class with DH. (The sweetheart did actually offer to go by himself because of my high anxiety level, but I thought he'd look pretty silly doing the breathing techniques alone.) It's four consecutive Sundays starting on the 27th.
A couple of people have asked me recently how it's going working from home. There are upsides and there are downsides. For example. Upside: I get to use my own personal bathroom for my 1,427 visits each day. Downside: Toilet paper now rivals car payments as a major expense in our household budget. Upside: I get to wear DH's sweats all day, which is not only very comfortable, but the savings on maternity clothes helps offset the extra toilet paper. Downside: If I stood at the freeway exit, people would toss coins at me because of my resemblance to a homeless person. Poor DH... this probably explains why he's started working late.
Speaking of work, we've set my officially date for maternity leave. Barring an early entrance by Bean (he's 2 years late already, so I figure it's unlikely), my last day will be February 29. This is exciting because February is next month!! Sounds so close, doesn't it? It's a letdown though because it's only 3 days before my due date. When I tried to make an online ticker to count down, it was basically the same as my Bean Counter pregnancy ticker anyway. Lame.
Last segue to a work topic, I promise. So DH has this coworker who is a couple of years younger than us. She is extremely hip, apparently -- scoffing at DH when he mentioned we live in the 'burbs. ("Everyone under 30 should be living in Belltown in the city," she haughtily informed him. You know, I thought I noticed all of our neighbors looking at us funny.) Anyway, she is engaged to marry another hip 20-something who most certainly lives in Belltown too. Yesterday in the lunchroom, she asked DH if I make dinner for him every night. Somehow he kept from falling to the ground and laughing hysterically, or so he told me. (Smart move either way, buddy.) She said it's her intention to make her husband dinner every night once they get married. I know every couple distributes the household chores differently, but let's just say I feel vindicated now about living in the suburbs. I may not wear knee-high boots with tight leggings or rectangle-shaped black rimmed glasses, but I don't pressure myself into filling antiquated gender roles, either. Hubby is making enchilada bake for dinner tonight, and I can't wait!