Amber Alert

Tonight Adam and I were watching TV and this Amber Alert came across the screen.
It made me so sad. Granted I've heard other alerts, but this one really affected me. The child who was kidnapped was a one year old. Trixie is one!
The father killed the mother and took off with the baby. All I can think about is how scared that baby must me. I hope she didn't see her dad kill her mom. I hope she knows her dad so that she's not too scared, and I hope he's being good to her.

Without being too sappy, I am grateful everyday that Adam and I have a happy marriage, this really helped to make me even more grateful. There is just so much turmoil around children nowadays. We're supposed to honour our children, not fight about them, and I see so much fighting.

Adam, my love. I am so grateful for you. So is Trixie, she tells you every time she drools on your head or gives you hugs with her slimy, drooly fingers.

Family Photos....

Becasue I can....

It will grow flowers....

Adam may have been right....

I'm a hippy.

Today my midwife came over to pick up her birth pool and give us a receipt and I sent my placenta home with her. Initially I asked for it from the hospital because I wanted to encapsulate it, but since I needed stupid drugs I can't use it, so it's just been taking up space in my freezer. She said that she would take it home and use it in her garden, which makes me happy that it isn't just going to get thrown out. But that's not what makes me a hippy. As I was pulling it from the freezer I peeked into the outer bag and thanked it.
Yes, Internets I thanked my placenta. And the scary part is I didn't realize I had done it until I handed the bag over and realized that I thanked it.
I know that some people highly regard their placentas and some hold special ceremonies or other rituals to thank their placentas for what they've done. But I didn't know I was one of those people. I guess I am.

I think I need to go and buy some birkenstocks now... I wonder if they make baby ones too?

24 months ago.

Today Adam and I have been married for 2 years. Not many people know our actual anniversary date because we had a very small ceremony at his parent's house, it wasn't until June that we had the big white wedding that everyone remembers.

The ceremony 2 years ago today was interesting, we had no rings and it was all very tense. I've never talked about it on here before, but everyone knows so I figure there's no harm. I was made to sign a pre-nup, which was very, very hard for me. I have some clear ideas in my head of what makes a marriage and trust is a big one for me, and I felt that I was being told I couldn't be trusted. To make a long, painful story short, Adam didn't want me to sigh the pre-nup, he saw that it was tearing me up and didn't want to cause me that much hurt. The anguish I felt over that was similar to what I felt when my grandparents died. I know that some people will think I'm silly to feel that way, but like I said, I hold my marriage vows sacred and I felt that I was just signing a pre-divorce, I felt rejected and demoralized, it hurt me a lot.

However something powerful came out of my anguish. Until that point I had never really let anyone in my personal shell, I'd never let anyone see my cry that way, and I'd never been that vulnerable in front of another human. I remember leaving the office in the back of our house a total mess, I was sobbing after being told that there was no way out and some other stuff that will haunt me for a long time. I stumbled into the living room where Adam was waiting, and I crawled onto the couch and curled up next to him and cried. Adam sat there and held me, stroked my hair and just was. I couldn't say anything all I could do was cry, the ugly cry, the snotty nosed, breath catching in your throat cry. Adam sat there and let me cry, let me soak his shoulder and he comforted me. Eventually when I could explain to him the situation and the options we had, we came up with a solution, which we all know was for me to sign the agreement. But I think on that night we truly sealed our relationship, I knew that he was perfect for me, and that he did trust me, it was like the ceremony 3 days later was a formality. We made our vows to each other that night, as we sat in the dark with Adam consoling me, and me trusting him and what he was saying. And here we are 2 years later, our relationship is stronger than ever, despite the pre-nup and reminders that 50% of marriages fail. Despite fertility issues and changing countries. I know that we have a strong relationship, one that is destined to last for a long time, even if there is a stupid agreement out there that made me feel like a nasty gold digger.

To be fair I understand why I had to sign it. But that does not negate how I feel about it, and how I felt about it. The whole situation hurt me deeply, and caused a lot of problems for me on a personal level. Adam is aware of how I feel, it's something we talk about often. It wasn't something we could file away under "taken care of", and I don't think we will be able to file it away for a long time. Anyhow the moral of the story is I love Adam, and he loves me, and 2 years ago we made it official. Despite the ugly that happened I'm happy I married him, I'm happy with the way our life is going and there is no one else I would want to share my life with.

Regrets

It's getting to be that time of year when we look back and reflect on the year.
This year has been mostly good to me. It started out rough and left me hopeless 5 times, and ends on a high note. I have a lot to be happy for, a baby on the way, a new house to move into in the New Year and a strong, secure, happy marriage where I get to laugh with my best friend every day.
I'm sure if I were to look there would be some regrets. However, honestly I don't look. I don't see how it's productive to look at what you did wrong and lament over it. When I do make a mistake I try to learn from it, but beating myself up over it is counter productive. That being said I have a small regret....
I missed seeing the Spice Girls reunion tour when it was in San Jose. I heard it was great. And man I loves me some Spice Girls!

Sometimes Facebook creeps me out.

I like Facebook for the ability for me to keep in touch with all of my friends at home in a really easy manner. I like it because I've been able to reconnect with some old friends from high school. Sometimes it's fun to run across your ex's profile and see that's he's not aged so well, then you can gloat a little. And sometimes I get really creeped out when skeletons from childhood friends past emerge and leave me messages, all shocked that I'm married and grown up.
I send back nice messages that, YAY California is wonderful, I have an amazing husband, yadda yadda. But what I really want to say is "Dude I'm 30, so my being married isn't that weird! And also there's a reason I don't have my maiden name on there!" But I don't instead I end up friending them, and they languish on my friend list, and we never converse again.
Sometimes Facebook is so weird.
But it's a great place to put Chachi pictures! AND SCRABBLE! I haven't mentioned the scrabble. I loves the scrabble so!

This post coming to you as fuzzy black lines.

My glasses are in the other room, and well it's hot and I'm pregnant. Okay, also lazy. Moving on.
First when did I become so blind that I need glasses to see the computer screen well? Damn aging process! Oh well at least it's just a little fuzzy vision, no other things that I am scared of. (arthritis, diabetes all the stuff my grandpa had)

Anyhow today my dear sweet husband bought me two pies, a lemon one and a chocolate one. They were good, I had some of both. My argument was that the baby NEEDED them. Adam couldn't argue. Hmm pies. I have noticed that I have the appetite of a sparrow. It's rather odd and a little disturbing. I can eat half a sandwich and a cup of milk. I guess this is a good habit for me to continue. Perhaps it will after pregnancy also. I'm also a little disturbed at my total and complete distaste for meat. I can eat a little in stuff, like a sandwich, or a ham and pineapple pizza, but the thought of a breast of chicken on a plate makes me a little pukey. So I've ordered some rice protein powder since all I have is soy, and I had to swear off soy while I was getting pregnant. And now I learn that it can interfere with hormones during pregnancy also. Okay. No soy for me, well except soy sauce and miso, 'cause I would not be able to live without miso. (also they are fermented so they aren't as harmful apparently)

So I have been working on this theory that we humans are like dogs, and pure breeding has made us a little volatile. (Pure breeding as in not mixing ethnicities.) I've come up with this when I was diagnosed as being a carrier of Cystic Fibrosis. Whoo hoo! As it turns out I have the worst form of the mutation in my genes, which is the most common mutation. It will never harm me as I am only a carrier, however if Adam is a carrier there is a 25% chance that the baby would have the disease, and a 50% chance that the baby would be a carrier. So Adam was tested and after a week of waiting we were informed that he is not a carrier. So now the baby has a 25% chance of being a carrier and a 1 in 241 chance that the baby will have the disease (from a misdiagnosis on Adam not being a carrier). So I am happy with these odds and moved on. (For the record I didn't really freak out, the genetics councillor that I was talking to was excellent and spelled everything out to me really clearly.)
Anyhow my theory. There was an issue at all because Adam and I are both Caucasian, if either him or I weren't it wouldn't be an issue since this disease is mostly a Caucasian thing. Hence the inbreeding of us white folk*, like Dalmatians. Remember when the movie 101 Dalmatians came out and there was a surge of Dalmatians as a result? Do you also remember all of the reports of viscous Dalmatians as a result of being over bred? It reminds me of this situation, like I said if Adam or I weren't so blindingly white my being positive would have been a non issue.
Oh and lets not forget that the inbreeding isn't only a Caucasian issue, there was a whole list of potential genetic issues that could arise if both parents were of the same ethnicity. Unfortunately I don't have this list in front of me, but it was interesting how every ethnicity had it's own problem. But from my understanding if a Asian woman and an Eastern European man were to have a baby they would have less chance of passing on any genetic disorders because it would be less common for them to both be a carrier of the same issue. Am I making sense? So with the popularity of chihuahuas there are more problems with hips and other issues, but if you were to have a mutt they are generally healthier since it's less likely that a problem would be shared by both parents.
So there you have it, humans as dogs.
Also don't you just think that a blended ethnicity baby is so pretty? Some of the most pretty people in the world are "mixed". It's not to say that my baby won't be pretty, I'm sure s/he will be, but this baby will also have a host of other issues, like looking like the sibling of Casper the ghost. (This baby is going to have really fair skin, like transparent fair.)


*I hate being called white. I'm not white, my skin is not white. It's not appropriate to call people by colours so why is it okay to call me white? I get irritated when I have to check a box on some form and it lists the options, white, African American, Asian, Indian etc etc. No one else is a colour! Okay rant over.

Monday's Mumblin's

Wouldn't it be a great idea if I had 7 new blogs, one for each day of the week? Like Monday's Mumblin's, Titilating Tuesdays, Weird Wednesdays, Thrillin' Thursdays, Friday's Forcast, Sloshy Saturdays and Sober Sundays? Good idea? No?

Anyhow, Adam and I had a great weekend! We were invited to go to a SF Giants game, which thrilled Adam because he's been wanting to go, but I've been dragging my heels because I'm not a baseball fan; rugby: yes, hockey: yes, football: yes, baseball: yawn. But the person who invited us had a suite to watch the game in. So to recap, baseball: not so much, suite at a sporting even: yes please!
Once there I quickly realized that I would be ruined for any sporting event ever again; sitting in second bowl seats at the HP Pavilion to watch the Sharks get beaten by some Canadian team will never be the same again. I'm okay with that. The suite was amazing. It opened up onto a balcony with an amazing view of the field and the harbour, since AT&T Park is built on a pier. The balcony had two rows of roomy seats and plenty of room to walk around and not get dead leg from sitting still for so long. Also there was a roof to the balcony, so when all of the people in the stands were breakin' out the plastic bag jackets as the rain started, we were all dry and cozy, livin' the life.
We arrived just as the game was about to start, so Adam and I took a seat on the balcony and settled in to watch the game. I decided that I would try to enjoy the game, even though I just wanted to marvel at the suite. The game started slow: swing, miss, swing, miss, ball, strike, blah blah blah.... Then Regan came to tell us that she was going to get food and so Adam went with her to get us something. This left me alone on the balcony with someone I had just met a couple of minutes before. I shrugged off my shy girl routine and struck up a conversation.
So he's a baseball fan and was shocked that I had no clue who Barry Bonds was. (Some baseball powerhouse who was rumoured to be all jacked up on 'roids) I had a quick lesson on Bonds and some baseball trivia as we discussed the merits of major league sports. (For the record I think that they are just a giant money making machine, and I don't get that wrapped up in the hoopla, I figure there are better things in life to be passionate about, like the Flames!) So we were watching the Giants who were now up to bat, swing, miss, blah blah blah. Then Barry Bonds came out to take his bat. The crowd hushed as the pitch came. He swung, and connected! The ball soared high into the sky. High, as in straight up, it was a pop fly, and a foul ball. Some fan caught the ball and everyone around him congratulated him. He is now a minor celebrity with his friends and family. Then the next pitch, he swung and BLAMO! The ball rocketed across the field, the centre field guy tried to catch it, but it was above his head. He did make a valiant effort running and reaching, but alas the ball was a home run. The stadium erupted into a massive roar and Mr. Bonds took his bases, reminiscent of a NASCAR winner taking a victory lap with the checkered flag. Bonds reached home base and the Giants had the lead in the game with one to zero. The game ended and the only score was Barry Bond's 739th home run, which is only 16 away from Ruth's record of 755.
After the game ended the stadium emptied in break neck speed, but we opted to enjoy the suite a little longer rather than rush for a train that would be packed with excited Giants fans. Instead we watch the field crew come and repair the field. We watched them groom the pitchers mound and then cover it with a custom made tarp, which fitted exactly. Then they did the same for the spot where the batters bat. Finally they rolled out a huge tarp which they covered the dirt part of the field up with. (Which Adam has reminded me is called the diamond.) It was interesting to watch them do this, and they were equally amused by the crazy people in suite #49 (us) who were cheering them on. (My favourite was the guy in the cowboy hat who was clearly the leader, and also the guy who wasn't wearing the yellow jacket and was clearly the rebel!). Eventually we were asked to leave because they needed to clean and we went to catch our train home.
Fun was had by all.
Once we were back in Sunnyvale, Adam and I went to a local pub for a really amazing dinner, a perfect end to the day.*

Yesterday we had some friends come over and we played lots of games. I lost most of them, which I am fine with since it was the first time I had played most of them. Also, I've come to the realization that while I am crazy competitive in sports and anything physical, I don't care really if I win a board game, because it's just that: a board game. Except when we were playing Settlers last night and I came out of nowhere, all stealthy and totally screwed Adam over. Yes Internets, there is nothing better than humiliating my husband at a board game. Ahem, I mean, I don't have to win, it is a game after all.

And now it's today. How was your weekend?

*I would have taken pictures to document it all, but everyone had such nice fancy cameras and we only have a wee little digital which is so puny. I didn't want to bring it out and subject it to camera envy.

Happy Anniversary!

This was taken at our first wedding, or the one that made us legally married. Which was a year ago today.
SO long story short, I've been married for a year. It's a wee bit surreal to me, but I'm happy. And so in love. And do you know how I know that Adam loves me? He's getting me Christina Aguilera tickets, he hates her. (but he thinks she's hot) And I promised him I would watch all 6 Star Wars. ALL SIX! See I love him. Know why? Because in my 29 years I haven't watched any of them. (if I did as a child I do not remember it) So clearly I love him!

Conversation.

"When I would make hotdogs, I would look for a couple pieces of bread that weren't mouldy, then I would put a couple hotdogs in the microwave, and cook them until they split. And because it was the only time I ate that day I would plie four hotdogs on the bread, with only mustard, 'cause I had no relish and the ketchup went bad."

"Well, you would rather have those hotdogs than the ones I made you last night?"

"You make it a production, with relish and ketchup and oven fries. I have low expectaions, so when you ask what I want for dinner I don't know."

"Low expectations? Good to know. So tonight for dinner, my left over cereal from breakfast."

"Okay!"