Crossfit glory!

Our Crossfit gym posted a blog about me and my post-due workouts. I had stopped working out around the end of my 8th month, but then started going again right around my due date to get things moving along. I thought that some moderate activity might initiate labor. Plus I was getting bored. Unfortunately for me (but fortunate for my instructors and fellow gym goers, who were keeping a healthy distance) exercising didn't do the trick. (FYI, I ended up getting induced, and even that didn't go very quickly).

Being 42 weeks pregnant was a bummer, but at least I got some Crossfit glory, plus lots of fist bumps and encouraging words from people who thought it was awesome that I was still working out.

Dave and I went to Crossfit last week for a pot luck BBQ and to introduce Edie to the crew. Here's a great photo of Dave with our little girl.

Now when I'll return to Crossfit to workout is another story...I think I'll start with some bootleg home workouts first.

10 days overdue

I had my suspicions that our baby would be late, since most first timers arrive post-due. Not sure why they take longer to bake, but that's the word on the street. But! I didn't think I'd be 10 days late...or more. Here we are, bags are packed, house is cleaned, baby stuff is ready to go and no baby to speak of. There are some strategies you can try to get things moving but most have been traced back to folklore. Bottom line, the baby comes when it's ready.

I like to view this as my first test as a mom (I'm on the baby's clock, not vice versa). Meanwhile, I'm getting bigger by the moment; people can't avoid looking at me at Green Lake or the grocery store. And my parents have been truly good sports; they've been here for 2.5 weeks now, and I know they're getting antsy.

Honestly, I was more anxious 10 days ago when I felt like labor was gonna start AT ANY MINUTE!! The best way I can describe being overdue? It's like coming in for a landing, then the pilot pulls the plane back up, and while you're ascending and the flight attendant announces that instead of landing, you're gonna circle the airport for 2 more weeks. Ten days ago friends and family were calling me, Dave, and my folks for updates; my phone hasn't made a peep in a few days. It's pretty anticlimatic for us all.

Full term pregnancy is 37-42 weeks; the 40th week is the due date you're generally assigned, but it's not an exact science. The baby can arrive two weeks before or after and still be considered "on time". I chose to see the midwives at my hospital rather than an OB/GYN, and those lovely earth mothers take a more holistic approach to pregnancy and birth. They tell me that the latest research doesn't call for induction until 42 weeks unless there are complications. Since there aren't, I'm looking at next Saturday as the last resort. I hope it doesn't come to that...

Make Lemonade

My parents' cross country journey in a borrowed Minnie Winnie did not quite pan out as planned. After many months of planning and preparing and stocking the Winnebago, they climbed aboard and pointed it westward on July 3rd with Aunt Kitty and Uncle Steve, only to break down in Buffalo, NY. The engine was shot; the mechanic estimated it was going to be quite expensive to fix. Despite the change of plans, they kept a positive attitude. They packed only the necessary items into a rented extended cab and continued on. They visited the Rock n' Roll Hall of Fame in Cleveland, Lake Erie, and then Chicago to meet up with family friends.

While Kitty and Steve returned eastward (as planned), my folks weren't sure how to best get from Chicago to Seattle- plane? train? automobile? (great movie, by the way). A one-way flight was ungodly expensive, so they booked a couple of the last remaining seats on an Amtrak train. The rest of the journey would take about 2 days.

Originally, my parents were going to help out once the baby arrives and sleep in the parked Minnie Winnie in our driveway. With no RV, that meant no place to put them. Dave and I had an idea- the upstairs apartment is vacant, and our landlords have been slowly preparing it to rent. Why not rent it to my parents? Or better yet, have them do the repairs and painting in exchange for room and board? Genius, I know. The landlords were game.

We moved our futon upstairs, along with some essentials (coffee maker, chairs, a laptop, and towels). Okay, so it's a little too minimalist, but how convenient (not to mention incredibly lucky) to have an available apartment upstairs and parents who are ready and willing to do home and yard maintenance?

A few days ago, Kitty called my mom to tell her they'd returned to the Minnie Winnie and salvaged most of the stuff they'd left behind. How awesome!? My mom is notoriously lucky. Actually, we all are.

Now that I'm done with work for a while, I'm just gonna sit back, wait for Little Kitzman, and drink lemonade.

The High Fidelity Issue

Nick Hornby's High Fidelity is one of my Top 5 all time books (and the movie's pretty good too). The protagonist, a lovelorn record shop manager, makes Top 5 lists for all sorts of things (i.e. dream jobs, songs for a Monday morning). I play this game on road trips or when conversation gets stalled at a bar with friends... but we often get distracted so we shorten the game to Top 3. In honor of two weeks to go, here's my pregnancy-related Top 3s.

Top 3 businesses that I might've single-handedly supported:
1) Molly Moon's Ice Cream
2) Dahlia Bakery
3) Chutney's Indian Bistro


Top 3 things I will miss about being pregnant:
1) Baby kicks- it really is cool to feel my little buddy move around
2) Farrah Fawcett-worthy hair...or at least that's what it feels like compared to my pre-pregnancy mane
3) Extra friendliness from strangers

Top 3 things I will not miss:
1) Limited physical ability and energy level
2) My maternity wardrobe. Most of my shirts are now belly shirts and I've started wearing skirts as tops. Holla!
3) Restless nights (although I suspect that will continue for a while...ha)

Top 3 things I'm looking forward to consuming one the baby arrives:
1) Sushi!
2) A summertime margarita (on the rocks, with salt)
3) Turkey straight out of the package

Top 3 things about being pregnant in Seattle:
1) It's not ridiculously hot or humid (but I want it to be once we have our little baby)
2) Over-abundance of prenatal yoga options
3) Cherries!

Top 3 inventions that have come in handy:
1) Skype
2) Tennis balls (for my DIY back massages)
3) Barca-lounger

Top 3 annoying people I've encountered in the last 9 months:
1) Militant natural home birthers
2) Old bags who ask "Are you sure it isn't twins?"
3) Casual acquaintances who ask if it was planned. Really?

Top 7 awesome things you can say to an expectant mother:
1) "You move well for a pregnant lady"
2) "Can I get you anything?"
3) "You don't even look pregnant from the back" (thanks Dave!)
4) "You are gonna be the coolest mother"
5) "Do you want me to order a pizza?"
6) "You look beautiful"
7) "You are a rock star. There's no way I would've worked out like that while pregnant. I bet you're gonna have an easy recovery".

Welcome to the fox den!

Okay so we're pretty proud of our fox den. We've been dedicating some time to it each weekend (when I get a burst of energy I retreat to the den and see what I can do). For comparison purposes, here's the fox den a month ago:

Luckily, our landlord offered to paint the room before we moved in, and we'd already picked a color. He also installed the overhead light I custom ordered, saving us from a crash course in electrical wiring.
First Dave put together the crib:

Then he hung some curtains:

(I always know when Dave is doing a home project because I hear some drilling followed by "sh*t".)
I put up my foxy wall decal, which I bought from Blik and, unfortunately, didn't hand paint myself. Flexing my artistic prowess while perched on a ladder isn't on my agenda these days.

We had some art to hang, and I scored a sweet letterpressed fox clock at my baby shower.

I've been washing sheets and folding little blankets like it's my job.

I also cleaned up this dresser that we scored for free from the neighbors, lined the drawers with contact paper and filled them with baby stuff.

And now we just need a happy little baby to make the room complete!

Quick, before I forget.

This weekend was family fantastic. Ashley and Jeff arrived late Friday night, and we wanted to go to bed but were too distracted catching up. I set the alarm for me and Ashley to wake up early for the shower that my mom threw me from CT. My aunts had sent me boxes chock full of baby goods over the last few weeks, and it was my mom's brilliant idea to open them over Skype while she served up a French Toast casserole and filled their mimosas. We quickly put on dresses and our glasses, but no makeup and our hair was all mussed up.

It was essential that Ashley was here for my virtual shower- made it much less lonely. When we signed off, we sat on my bed and dished about pregnancy. Then we both went back to sleep. These days I'm up early right on through the weekends. I'm a great sleeper but I always wake up when it gets light out and feel that I should seize the day. Being an early bird isn't so bad, but sleeping in seems so enticing and indulgent. Sometimes I wish I could just sleep all morning.

When we finally got up, we helped Jeff get on his way to Sasquatch (with borrowed camping gear and ever-useful garbage bags), and went to get Saturday morning scones and Americanos. Since we were on a schedule to get out of dodge, we got ours to go. Then we parked in the driveway, eating in silence.

Ashley thinks my belly is "so cool" and can't believe how hard it is; she kept feeling it, and she is one of the few people with license to do that all day. At first when she tried to feel some fetal action, she said it was like waiting at the zoo for the bears to wake up and do something worthwhile. She definitely got to feel some baby hiccups and acrobatics over the last few days.

Our weekend in central WA was great, except Dave's allergies hit hard and basically put him out of commission. Ashley led a mini-boot camp for me and Julie on Sunday, then we went on a hike through rolling hills with some of the others. We hung around with the ladies while the guys played Frisbee golf, monkey balls, and cribbage. For dinner we ate chicken falling off the bone, from the homemade cinder block smoker. We all brought side dishes- fruit salad, potato salad, quinoa salad, and cole slaw. We ate s'mores and my homemade brownies for dessert around the campfire. Ashley later asked if I they were really from scratch, because she didn't know I baked (I do, sometimes).

Although Dave and Jeff were sort of out of the picture, it gave me and Ashley a lot of time together. I feel like I have money in the bank, or a full tank of gas, after spending the long weekend with her. Jeff returned from Sasquatch late on Monday, sunburnt and satisfied. They left this morning as we bid them a fond farewell.

Pre-baby livin'

Our new pad is slowly coming together. Our weekends have been intense, and it seems that we have plans or to-do lists seeping into every available time slot. And yes I still have boxes to unpack. But the good news is we scored two sweet pieces of furniture this weekend and made some headway on home projects. One piece of furniture- a dresser for the nursery- was free, thanks to my keen eye while cruising around the neighborhood. The other, a solid wood wardrobe, was seriously underpriced by a nice rich man over in Medina (you know, where Bill Gates lives). Now we can kiss those packed boxes good-bye....when I have the energy and inclination to do it.

I'm almost 8 months pregnant and I gotta say, I'm feeling it. Some noticeable side effects include disinterest in making dinner, increased interest in the couch, and eager willingness to take a bus seat when offered (which is surprisingly rare; is it a West Coast thing? Or just a modern lack of chivalry? I'm surprised).

We started our birth and parenting classes this week. They take place in our hospital basement all Saturday morning for four weeks. Topics include: how to not be a hormonal wench, how to breathe deeply, how your partner can help (in labor and in general), things to avoid while pregnant and/or breastfeeding (pot brownies, gymnastics, etc), and how to bathe, feed, and swaddle your baby. I think the class will be useful. Maybe we'll even meet some new parent-friends.

In addition to home projects and weekend classes, Dave and I are trying to squeeze in some pre-baby summer plans, including a trip with friends to the Methow Valley and a weekend getaway to the Kitzman cabin (if I'm still in good spirits and not a miserable blimp). Every month that passes and I'm still on good terms with pregnancy feels like a victory. Two more to go.

The Fox Den

Babies is scary.

That's how I'm feeling these days. There a so many unknowns and questions. There are many elements not figured out, and we won't figure them out until we have a little person in our arms to look after. I'm really hoping my motherly instincts kick in, because my last extended encounter with babies was back in the mid 90s when I babysat my cousins. My mom is coming to visit next week and I'm pretty pumped. Sometimes I look at a map of the U.S. and am amazed at how far I am from my family.

This weekend we had some friends over for homemade pizzas and board games. I never think I like board games until I play them, at which point I think we should definitely play more often. Something occured to me that night- our idea of a good time is evolving rapidly. We are turning into homebodies, watching Friday Night Lights on a Friday Night, while I eat Ben and Jerry's and Dave drinks a Spaten Pils. The highlight of my Saturdays are Crossfit, yoga, and taking a nap. Once in a while, we'll go to a show, get a bite to eat late night, and feel like we're really painting the town.

Amidst all the unknowns, a few things have come to light. I decided on a theme for a baby's room: foxes. I was inspired by The Fantastic Mr. Fox, and also a painting that my sister had made for me. I found a couple of foxy art-things, and my friend told me that a baby fox is called a kit. Kit, Kitzman. Get it? From now on, the baby's room will be referred to as the Fox Den.

We also found a place to live, which will be ready at the end of the month. I'm glad we have a new home but the truth is, moving still does not fit into my idea of a good time.

Make it Work

These last few weeks, I've been agonizing over whether to move. A few months ago, a colleague offered her rental apartment to us once she bought a house. Although we weren't planning on moving, the perks of her home (bigger place, cheaper rent) were enticing, and Dave and I considered it. We even went and looked at it. Although cute, there were some drawbacks (no dishwasher, coin operated washer/dryer in the basement, and a quirky closet sitch). A few weeks later we concluded that We Did Not Want to Move.

Then I started thinking about all the expenses that are coming down the pike, and in a panic, said "Um, well, maybe we should move". Meanwhile, Dave has been totally consumed with National Boards teaching stuff, and had no spare brain power/time/will to discuss moving until he completed his portfolio. We tabled all conversation until he was done, which was this weekend (!). In the meantime, I made Excel spreadsheets of every possible rental permutation (stay in our condo/move to Stefani's/move to another place). I made a weighted pro and con list (which I learned about on LifeHacker.com...nerdy cool), had multiple internal conversations, and I discussed the predicament with some of my top advisors.

Although Stefani's place had potential, she hasn't even bought a home yet. Closing on a house could take months, and do I really want to move while 7 or 8 months pregnant? No. I also thought maybe we could find a little house. It would be bigger and cheaper, have all of our beloved modern amenities, and be in a good neighborhood. After spending some quality time on Craigslist, I realize that there are some cheaper and bigger places, but they don't have a view, or a short hop to the bus, or a patio, or a stackable washer and dryer. Who knew how precious a household appliance could be? We're totally spoiled, and it's hard to imagine regressing to coin operated laundry. Like, ew.

But the biggest thing I realize is, deep down, I Don't Want to Move. Not this year. We've both lived in four rentals in four years, plus we plan on moving back east next summer. Our condo is small, but so is a baby. We have an office which we'll turn into a nursery. So what if it doesn't have a proper door or a window? I've been watching Project Runway lately, and in the words of Tim Gunn, we're gonna Make it Work.

When I told Dave the verdict, he said "Okay". And that was that. I didn't even have to show him my spreadsheets.

Adventures in finding babysitting

Editors note: I don't mean to hi-jack this blog with all things baby-related, but bear with me, 'cause that's what's on my mind these days.

It seems crazy that we have to look for child care already. And we've been looking for a few months. I have no idea what the market is for infant child care in other towns and cities but in Seattle, there are approximately four open spots for 3,675 babies. The concept of supply and demand are completely out of whack. Which means one thing: wait lists! Or maybe it means two things: nannies! Which we'll need, in case the wait lists don't work out.

First we had to register with an organization, a veritable Day Care Gate Keeper, to access listings of credible providers. Oddly, a simple Google search comes up with a big ol' ball of tumbleweed. I found a few places in my zip code, called them all, left earnest messages and spoke really clearly, and heard back from one. Dave and I went to visit. The good news was, it was close to our home and affordable. The bad news was it had cobwebs and seemed dirty. Nah.

I expanded my search. So what if I need to make a bus transfer with Junior's stuff in tow?

The second place I checked out was run by Eddie, a Springer Spaniel of a man according to his enthuisasm over the phone. (This should've been my first red flag; as illustrated above, most providers don't even answer their phones, let alone jump for joy at the prospect of a new charge). We agreed to meet at his day care on President's Day. He said "Just look for the bright blue house with orange trim. You can't miss it!". (This shouldn't been my second red flag, but I'm starting to feel pressure and and therefore trying to be open minded.)

I pulled up and let out a groan at the site of his electric blue house with a sagging front porch and satellite dish. But I remembered my friend Rachel's advise, to see AS MANY day cares as possible, because they are each unique. I pulled myself out of the car and walked up the crusty porch. A quick look in the windows and I saw a mattress on the floor and a big ass box of Cheerios, but no children to speak of. I knocked on the door and heard a big dog lumber towards the door, which I took as my cue to run away.

I'm not scared of dogs, but I do trust my intution. And my intuition said "This place is a dump. Who are you kidding?"

Today I checked out a nice place at a Methodist church. I had to pay $35 to get on the waitlist, but it seemed worth it. It was clean, they had a cool outdoor space, a music program, full meal plan, and it was in a good neighborhood. Even though it's at a church, they don't push a religious agenda, and they celebrate diversity by making sure there are black and brown dolls, and books and music that teach about other cultures.

On the bright side, my mother in law will watch the baby one day a week (awesome!) and I have some flexibility with my work schedule. I guess we'll just hope for the best and play PowerBall in the meantime. That way, we can be stay at home 'ballers.

24 carrot

Today I got inspired to document my pregnancy a little better. My half-hearted attempts to keep a journal have been unsuccessful to date. As a testament to the era, the best documentation I have is in my emails and blog posts. So! For those Looky Lous who want a belly shot: here's me at 21 weeks (last weekend):

I wasn't super happy with our photo shoot but Dave has been a very supportive husband/photographer. My favorites are when he tells me to "Modify!" before every Crossfit class and runs me a lukewarm bath so I don't boil little Kitzman in the womb. One thing he has yet to learn is to avoid taking food from a pregnant lady. I've been trying to get him to try these chocolate chip-stout cookies that I bought for $.99, and he's all like "No thanks, none for me." So I asked him to get me one, and as soon as I sit down he has the audacity to ask me if he could have a bite. A bite of a cookie that consists of four bites!? I think I actually said "Get your own f--kin cookie". I'm really going to have to curb my language when the baby arrives.

Each week I get an email update that tells me how big the baby is relative to produce. It started out as a poppy seed, then a sesame seed, then a plum, mango and so on. This week it's the length of a carrot (almost one foot long). I don't know how many other veggie or fruits are longer than a carrot- an ear of corn, sure. But then, what- melons? Cabbage?

So one really cool thing about being pregnant is being outfitted by my mom and mother-in-law! My mom is NOT a shopper. My sister and I had to beg her to bring us to the mall when we were kids. It was her idea of personal hell. TJ Maxx was her jam, and we only went there out of dire clothing necessity. Something about having a pregnant daughter must've sparked a dormant desire to shop, because my mom has been sending me boxes of maternity clothes like it's her job. It's been awesome because I haven't had the time/inclination/money to go shopping. And Dave's mom brought me a cute dress from Target that I've been rockin' at least once a week.

Oh that's another cool thing- you can have 5 outfits in rotation and no one judges.

Walking on sunshine

Is it weird that I don't want to do anything? I guess "anything" is a misnomer, but I have a few things on my to-do list and topping that list is "Work". I definitely don't feel like going to the office on a beautiful Saturday. I would clean our house, or cook or make a collage but boarding a bus and going downtown does not appeal to me.

This morning I went to pre-natal yoga. I've had a rocky relationship with yoga over the past ten years. For example, I was into it while atending a pre-college program at Bennington (coincidentally, that's when I decided to become a vegetarian and learn to sew. Neither goals lasted the year). A few years ago I stated that "Yoga isn't for me. I want a workout that makes me sweat".

Fast forward to 2010: My pregnant friend Dara piqued my interest in pre-natal yoga, partially because she said at the beginning of each class, everyone says their name and how far along they are, and I'm curious about other pregnant ladies/bodies. I'm amazed by women who are past 35 weeks because they are generally so big! Am I going to be that big?! How can it be?!

It took a lot of momentum to get to the community center for my first class. I seemed to come up with excuses really easily (such as I already pay for, and attend, two gyms). But I finally went a month and a half ago and the class was so relaxing and mellow, on my way home I felt like I was walking on sunshine. Although some yoga practices are vigorous workouts, this class focuses on stretches for pregnancy and labor. We also focus on breathing, being in the moment and losing judgement, which is really therapeutic for my hyperactive East Coast mind.

It may be a little crunchy granola, but I am beginning to really look forward to my Saturday pre-natal yoga class. As a side-note, the weather in Seattle has been ridiculously nice. It's been spring-like for a month now. The cherry blossoms are all blooming, adding brushes of pink to the cityscape. It's a nice backdrop to my intense work deadlines. So, about going in to the office...

By the way, this is Chez Moni's 100th post! And I'll post pics of my belly soon.