Write-sizing

Calming down

2012-01-28T10:26:00.000-08:00

Life is calming down a bit and getting into more of a rhythm with babe.

He's generally doing pretty well, although he's gotten little bugs from having older brothers and sisters more than those older brothers and sisters did when they were babes.

He feels a lot like a firstborn in some ways, since we were so out of the baby habit. Because of that, it's nice to delight in his babyness. It's also refreshing to see a baby through the other kids' eyes. I always remember more about them when they were babies while I'm caring for one.

He looks like his own individual self, of course, but I see little family resemblances, and it's amusing to parse those out. He has Paul's long fingers and the 10-year-old's mouth. They all have similar eyes, which the 13-year-old likes to complain to me about: "You gave us all your small eyes."

Rituals

2012-01-25T21:00:00.000-08:00

I'm trying to get my little rituals down again. For one, I like to make at least one pitcher of my iced green tea every day. Now that six of us drink it and four of us really like it, I need more.

The babe's favorite ritual is a tiny little shake. He doesn't like the larger bouncing motion that other kids liked; it's a really quick little vibration. The 15-year-old says it's because I jogged with him.

Falling down

2012-01-21T19:15:00.000-08:00

Here's a first, even for my klutzy self. I fell while carrying the baby.

My footwear was only slightly inappropriate, although I will be retiring those shoes for a bit. The big issue was there was a step down that I didn't see. It's hard to describe, but it was a step that gradually appeared. I was walking around an outdoor art exhibit. The base it was on stayed horizontal, even while the rest of the area around it went slightly downhill. Where I fell, the step down was about three inches, which was enough to throw off my balance.

The babe was sleeping, and I was carrying him like a football with my left arm. I landed particularly hard on my left knee and then my right knee and right hand caught the rest of me. He didn't touch the ground.

And -- surprisingly -- he didn't even wake up.

My left knee has a big ol' scrape and I ripped my tights. But it could have been worse.

Plan news: I guess I should've expected this, but I'm hungry again. That's what eliminating a meal will do.

Weighing in

2012-01-19T13:47:00.000-08:00

I did my first weigh-in since having the baby today.

I'm 22 pounds heavier than my lowest weight, which isn't terrible considering I just had a baby. Most of my clothes still fit -- although not the jeans and not button-up tops. With the nursing, I look like I've had (bad) surgical enhancement.

So this is another Day 1. I'm losing the equivalent of a meal in extra calories.

No more TV

2012-01-10T22:08:00.000-08:00

We gave up our cable at the beginning of the year. It was turning into background noise. We were all watching too much. The quality, too, was questionable. I mean, "Storage Wars" is vaguely amusing, but none of us needed to be spending that much time on it. We have missed it a little because of college basketball season -- but we'll survive.

The last week has been busy with a lot of things. Our 17th wedding anniversary was Saturday, and that was pretty lowkey, what with the insatiable and car-hating baby around.

I haven't had a baby who despises the car as much as this guy. Or maybe some of it is I have more places I have to be at at certain times. In some ways, it's a great thing, as it keeps me home more. The kids are doing more schoolwork, and I'm going through our pantry instead of buying a lot of groceries.

On Sunday, he was baptized. It was just our family and the godparents' family, so that was lowkey as well.

Thirsty!

2012-01-05T15:43:00.000-08:00

The babe is doing a lot of nursing and a lot of sleeping. Because of that, I'm drinking a lot of water, tea and milk as well. The babe is always hungry -- and I'm always thirsty.

I also have a big stack of books I'm going through, but I'm not going to do even perfunctory reviews until I've finished them.

Christmas responsibilities: Paul has been taking over a lot of my duties, particularly on the many days off he got in January, thanks to stock market holidays. He has spent a lot of time with the homeschool moms at our weekly park day.

He came to me yesterday, sheepish, saying that he was going to do more for Christmas next year. He got to listen to all the mothers complaining how their husbands do nothing and that getting ready for holidays is a lot of work. It was apparently eye-opening.

Resolution plans

2012-01-04T09:38:00.000-08:00

I know the new year is a big time for resolutions and that some people have success with them. I never have.

When I succeed in making positive behavioral change, it happens without a big formal announcement. I didn't even tell Paul when I gave up sugar, wheat and flour on Oct. 21, 2007.

My plans for this year do include getting back to my pre-pregnancy weight -- which is unsurprising. Since I haven't weighed since giving birth, I don't know how far off I am -- probably somewhere between 10 and 20 pounds. I really shouldn't be worried about it for a couple more weeks.

But, at six weeks postpartum (next Friday), I'll weigh with Tiffany and go back on the plan for non-pregnant women. That's next Friday. I'll also get a pair of inexpensive jeans that fit, as all the ones I have now are too tight -- and I got rid of the ones that would've fit a long time ago.

Murphy's Law and jury duty

2011-12-31T15:10:00.000-08:00

I'm one of those weirdos who has always wanted to be a juror.

I have been called to jury duty a few times -- always when there was No Way I Could Possibly Serve.

The first time was when my eldest was a newborn. I was also called four years ago, right before we moved back to L.A.

After that, I had about three to four years where it would not have been that inconvenient for me to serve, but I didn't get called, of course. If I had been called even three months ago I could have served. But I didn't get called then, of course.

Today, however, I got summoned.

SuperFreakonomics and Loving Frank

2011-12-29T22:01:00.000-08:00

One side effect of spending so much time feeding the babe is my reading has increased.

SuperFreakonomics is just OK, although it's an interesting gee-whiz kind of read. I've heard a lot of the stories before.

Interesting tidbits: 1) The infamous Kitty Genovese case in New York City, where a crowd of people ignored a woman's cries for help as she was murdered, had probably been greatly exaggerated. The initial attack happened at 3:30 am and was over quickly. Moreover, people had called for help. Genovese had walked away from the first and it was likely that both police and witnesses didn't realize she was in more danger.

2) A bank employee, who developed an algorithm to identify potential terrorists, discovered that one characteristic of terrorists is that they don't buy life insurance. Which I guess isn't surprising.

Loving Frank is novel from the perspective of Frank Lloyd Wright's second wife. I'm generally not a big fan of reading about adultery, as I get irritated with people making stupid decisions -- oftentimes stupid decisions that initially seem innocent. But the book is another entertaining read, and, since it's fictionalized, it doesn't seem real, even though the story is based on the architect's real-life affair.

I'm getting to read more to the 7-year-old as well. Of course, I couch it as "reading to the baby" as the 7-year-old is my one child who doesn't like to be read to -- or at least likes to pretend he doesn't like to be read to.

Chicken soup!

2011-12-28T08:35:00.000-08:00

I've found the secret to making amazing chicken soup, even with factory farmed chickens.

Here it is: First, I've been roasting the bones after removing the meat and before boiling them.

Then, I use my crockpot and cook them for at least 18 hours.

I have a lot of chickens lately because my sweet friends have all been bringing me food, and there have been a ton of roasted chickens.

No Midnight Mass

2011-12-25T23:11:00.000-08:00

One of our family traditions is to go to Midnight Mass.

But not this year.

Some of the kids were too sick and I was too tired to make it.

One of the (many) reasons we like to go at midnight is the church isn't packed. I've got my space issues, particularly with a new baby, whose behavior is unpredictable, and I hate it when we get stuffed into pews like sardines.

So, we went to 7:30 p.m. services instead -- and that Mass time is even more empty.

Things I don't care about anymore

2011-12-24T14:24:00.000-08:00

1) Looking fashionable. Frumpville, here I come. I suspected I'd be going there, but it's amazing how quickly I Just Don't Care anymore. It has to be biological.

Seriously, when I have a yummy-smelling baby to keep happy, my perspective is just a little different. As it should be.

Of course, it's still only three weeks postpartum.

The 13-year-old is benefiting from my changes. She now has a bunch of cute dresses, dresses that I cannot breastfeed in and that fit her.

2) Following the diet. I know, I know -- what is up with that?! I haven't gone off plan, but it requires a lot of habit and a lot of self-talk. Cookie dough as well as completed cookies were tempting me far more than they have in the past.

Sleep when the baby sleeps

2011-12-23T09:45:00.000-08:00

I've been doing a better job at sleeping when the baby sleeps.

I told Paul this morning that I was embracing the "Christmas isn't a deadline, it's a season" philosophy.

"You always do that. What else is new?"

OK, fine -- but this year I have an excuse.

Babe is doing well. He got another weight check (and he saw a pediatric resident, who was -- of course -- better informed about breastfeeding). My regular guy is well into his 60s and he's a high-ranking professor at one of the local medical schools.

'Don't let him use you as a pacifier'

2011-12-17T18:40:00.000-08:00

The babe has been eating and sleeping a lot, as he should be.

I've been happy with how he's doing, and it's gotten even better lately. It seems like new babies are almost constantly wet -- and continually wetting through their clothes. He hit the "wet" stage in earnest around the middle of last week, which means he's getting plenty of milk.

He had only made it to his (wrong) birthweight earlier in the week when I took him to the new pediatrician. I had to take him to a pediatrician instead of our typical family doc because the family doc stopped offering all the vaccines for infants and his office staff couldn't handle the paperwork.

Not to bash doctors, who have a lot of pressure on them and who have gone through so much training, but it's an irritation when I get Really Bad Advice from them.

This new guy, for example, was full of complete and total misinformation about breastfeeding. That's one area where I generally feel confident in my expertise. I edited a publication on the subject for eight years, working with doctors and lactation consultants and veteran breastfeeding mothers.

These are among the gems this guy told me:

1) Don't let him use you as a pacifier.

Sorry, but pacifiers were actually invented as fake breasts, not the other way around. Frequent nursing establishes a supply, a supply that I will need for the next year (at least).

2) Nurse only 10-15 minutes on a side.

Then what to do you do with a hungry baby? Oh, a pacifier, of course!

I'm not anti-pacifier, although my eldest wasn't willing/able to use one, and I didn't bother trying with the younger kids. But I don't understand the desire to push the use of one, particularly with a semi-slow-gaining infant.

Paul thinks I should find a new pediatrician. He actually laughed out loud when he heard what the doc had said.

I'm not sure it matters. It does create a bit of a moral dilemma for me -- in that I feel bad for not trying to correct some of the misinformation. After all, this guy is dealing with plenty of new moms who don't know he's full of it. At the same time, I'm not sure there would be any point to it.

Food!

2011-12-14T09:02:00.000-08:00

With my newly speedy metabolism, I am hungry again.

Of course, what I eat can be (and is) often bizarre. Right now, I'm in an Oatmeal Phase. I eat it baked with a little coconut oil. Or cooked with a ton of water and then milk added.

Salads with my homemade vinaigrette have also been appealing.

Both of those things are super-easy to make, even with a babe on my arm.

What's next?

2011-12-13T11:22:00.000-08:00

For the next six weeks, I'll eat as though I'm still pregnant. At six weeks, I'll go back on the regular version of the plan.

The greatest thing about being postpartum is that I have a jacked up metabolism. My belly is still a bit bigger than normal; otherwise, I can tell I'm pretty close to my pre-pregnancy weight.

The bra I bought a few weeks ago is too big in the band now, now that my belly isn't pushed up so high.

The same yet different

2011-12-12T09:24:00.001-08:00

It's like Groundhog Day here. I remember downy baby heads that look just like this one. Eyes that focus with sharklike intensity, seeking milk. I remember getting hit with hormonal changes somewhere between Day 3 and Day 7 postpartum where I turn into a sopping mess of tears for no apparent reason.

What's different: Having to explain hormones to a poor 7-year-old who isn't used to a mom who cries, let alone to a husband who isn't used to a wife who cries.

Fortunately, it is now Day 10 -- and all that is pretty much over.

But this was Day 8.

Paul: Kathleen, are you crying?!!

Me: Yes, and it's really, really silly.

Paul: What's wrong?

Me: Well, his umbilical cord just fell off, and I didn't get a picture of him with it on.

Paul: You are silly.

With the last baby, Paul had oh-so-helpfully decided it would be good to start a new job and move right around my due date. Which meant I was relatively alone, away from people I knew, when I now had four children under the age of 8. This time, I have tons of help, as it's nearly eight years later.

Plus, my friends are all bringing food over. Paul is amazed. He has seen me make plenty of meals for new moms, but we've never been fortunate enough to get quite this level of post-baby care.

Lucky

2011-12-09T13:41:00.001-08:00

Poor Michelle Duggar. A miscarriage at 20 weeks isn't fun for anyone, even if you already have a bunch of other kids.

I've been incredibly lucky on that front. Five pregnancies. Five births.

This one made me more nervous than the others, of course, and I had enough contractions throughout the pregnancy that I was frequently worried that it was going to end. It turned out, however, that that was just what was normal for this one.

Baby arrives!

2011-12-05T10:16:00.001-08:00

Here's my eldest with my youngest!

Baby arrived on Friday. His birthweight is -- weirdly -- pretty much undetermined, as the scale in the delivery room said 8 lbs. 9 oz. at birth and the one in the nursery read 9 lbs. 2 oz. eight hours later. My milk is good, but it's not that good.

He looks like all my other babies. He doesn't have Paul's chin cleft, which three of the others have.

Delivery went fine, although there were some scary elements. When my water broke spectacularly (a first), there were some signs that baby was in a bit of distress, so I went to the hospital earlier than I might've otherwise. During labor, he was fine. I had chemical labor enhancement (my choice), so it was definitely my most intense labor, as it progressed from halfway there to ready-to-push in 10 minutes (which would normally take three to five hours). The OB did great, and I was happy I stuck with her.

When he came out, the NICU team was there, but he was fine.

I'm happy he's here and healthy.

I had been wanting to post this funny video while I was pregnant, but I also didn't want to post anything that had the slightest bit of mockery of healthy babies before this one got out safe! So, here it is.

Oh, and the baby's name? He's named for a martyr and saint -- the patron of throat ailments, of all things. There's also a famous French mathematician and Catholic philosopher from the 17th century who shares his first name.

Fashion police

2011-12-01T09:03:00.001-08:00

One of my mild worries about going through the whole pregancy/childbirth/breastfeeding cycle again was that I was going to backslide into living in the town of Frumpville again.

Now, I don't regret my days there, as when you have lots of little people with lots of very intense needs, anything beyond basic grooming and just getting dressed and showered in the morning is gravy.

But I've had a good four years of indulging in a higher level of self-care, including eating very well -- and dressing well (for me). And that has been nice, too. I'm a lot healthier, and my husband is happier.

Since I have teenagers, though, even once the baby is here, I probably won't be able to slack on the self-care as much as I had in the past. At least, not without getting a bunch of crap.

The other day, late for the doctor, I needed to find something that a) fit and b) was clean. So, I dug into a bag of my hand-me-down maternity clothes, many of which I haven't worn -- for size or style issues.

I found a big, longish, sleeveless jumper-type dress, which I threw on over a shirt. I knew it wasn't a particularly great outfit, but -- heck -- how much do I really care at this point?

When I got home, my 13-year-old told me I looked just like a pregnant Michelle Duggar. Now, I think Michelle Duggar is sweet, but she's no fashionista. She has modesty standards that far exceed mine.

So, clearly, when I visit Frumpville from now on, I am going to hear about it. I have Fashion Police now.

Carmelized cauliflower

2011-11-30T07:05:00.001-08:00

Here's one of my favorite (and easiest) recipes:

Take cut-up cauliflower and put in on a cookie sheet or roasting pan. Mist or dip in olive oil.

Sprinkle cumin or chili powder (optional).

Cook at 375 degrees until the cauliflower is crunchy and blackened and carmelized. (It will reduce by more than half.)

39.5 weeks

2011-11-29T11:05:00.001-08:00

I'm still pregnant, still feeling good and still very happy with my OB.

She offered to check me this morning, which means give an internal exam, but it's pretty clear the only reason she offered it is that a lot of women want it.

She said that the only way it would help her would be if it turned out I was in active labor and should go to the hospital. Otherwise, it doesn't tell anything about how soon this baby will come. So I passed.

Ms. Empathy

2011-11-28T08:08:00.001-08:00

Paul's latest complaint is how it seems like he's going to the doctor and dentist all the time.

I, of course, have absolutely no sympathy for the Old Man. Between me and the four kids -- braces, pregnancy, etc., etc., I am really there all the time.

Food

I had a great score on the clearance rack of a nearby grocery store yesterday, so I'm cooking up a storm. The 13-year-old's recent vegetarianism poses very few cooking challenges because I've been vegan and vegetarian before myself. It's more logistics. I hope to have a bunch of things prepared -- or close to it -- before baby arrives.

These cannot be my children

2011-11-27T22:34:00.001-08:00

My 13-year-old and I made chocolate chip cookie bars to take to a church event this evening.

She did most of the work, but I put everything in the pan. Which meant getting batter all over my hands. And smelling the vanilla. And butter. And sugar.

When I was done, I had a bowl with the remnants of the dough in it, as well as a wooden spoon.

I went around the house, asking everyone if they wanted to clean out the bowl for me.

I got exactly zero takers. That to me is some small sign that my food issues have not been passed down. I would never have turned down cookie dough as a child, young adult or obese woman.

Sassiness

2011-11-26T22:38:00.001-08:00

"Mom, you need to have the baby soon," the 13-year-old said.

"You're all sassy now that you're this much pregnant."

"Sassy" is her term for irritable or full of attitude.

I guess I need to behave better.

Waiting game

2011-11-25T11:22:00.001-08:00

Paul's getting really excited for the baby to come: "I can't wait to meet this silly baby."

We're getting closer on names, although we always like to see the baby first. We tend to have more disagreements over names for boys than the girls, as I'm more open to nontraditional names for girls.

I'm starting to feel rather sick of being pregnant as well.

The kids have been really helpful. If I manage to get myself stuck in a low chair, they'll give me a boost. They also helped a lot on Thanksgiving. I did a traditional dinner, and the 13-year-old made the stuffing and peeled and boiled the potatoes. The 9-year-old helped prepare the brussel sprouts and got the table set and ready. Even the 7-year-old handled veggies and gravy (from a can, as the only one in my family who will eat it is Paul). The 15-year-old spearheaded the cleanup, which was a huge help in itself.

We had been having some pretty major computer issues. (Can you say "First World problems?") First, my hard drive was dying. In the process of attempting to resurrect it, we managed to fry our wireless connection. We almost considered a new computer, but it turns out the new hard drive has been great, and the system is working so much better than before.

The race begins

2011-11-21T14:11:00.001-08:00

Supposedly, baby could come "any day now."

I am in complete and total get-things-done mode. Between Thanksgiving and organizational tasks I have to do, there is a ton of stuff. Fortunately, I do have the "burst of energy" that pregnant women often get in the time leading up to delivery.

My friends threw me a lovely shower on Saturday. I was really happy because I emphasized that I don't need new things -- or really a lot of "stuff" in general -- for baby No. 5, and they gave me a lot of cool stuff, including cloth diapers and covers, which would've cost a lot to replace. I was happy that most people took my "clean out your baby stuff" request seriously and didn't spend a lot of money -- or they found good deals somewhere.

More baby-ness

2011-11-18T08:43:00.001-08:00

I found a $20 changing table, which will make life a bit easier. Of course, it requires some home reorganization.

Also, I (finally) went and got a nursing bra, in the biggest letter size I have ever had to purchase, darn it. Let's just hope I don't get any bigger.

In wonderful news, it turns out I am Group B Strep negative with this pregnancy, which will mean that I won't need IV antibiotics during labor and that I won't need to go to the hospital as soon.

In more great news, my OB told me that for her last birth, she was in labor for two days (and that was earlier this year). The fact that she was OK with that (as was the hospital where she was giving birth, the same one where I will deliver) gives me hope, just in case my labor gets at all stalled. This is going to sound all hippy-dippy, but my labors have gone so much better when I don't feel rushed and when I trust my labor attendants.

Pumping gas

2011-11-16T18:04:00.001-08:00

Here's a first: Some guy offered to pump my gas for me today. He said that he didn't want me having the benzene exposure. It was very nice of him; of course, since I do 99 percent of the driving in my family, I've pumped plenty of gas so far.

My consultant

2011-11-14T07:32:00.001-08:00

My greater-than-usual spaciness is a new source of Paul's amusement.
I dismiss it with a "Oh, it's just pregnancy brain." Since Paul is not particularly in touch with his feminine side and he definitely has never been pregnant, he's not buying it.

"What kind of an excuse is that?! Pregnancy brain?! Come on!"

Yes, Mr. Empathy is coming out to play.

Wait a minute, I say, since when are you an expert on pregnancy? What do you know about being pregnant?

"Nothing. That's why I'm your pregnancy consultant. I'll consult on childbirth as well -- and breastfeeding. Since I can't do it, I'll just tell you what to do."

That's one of his long-running schticks. He says I do 90 percent of the work around here, but he's my "consultant," who sits around and watches and critiques. That's not fully accurate, but it's nice and self-mocking, and it's an allusion to the distaste he has for the consultants who used to come in to work and tell the employees what to do.

Teen running

2011-11-12T18:08:00.001-08:00

My 15-year-old is the new runner in the family.

He used to run with me, but even before I got pregnant, I just started holding him up.

At the same time, he still hasn't beaten my best 5K time, which is odd. It's clearly not because he can't. I think it's more a matter of miscalculation. I don't have anywhere near his athleticism, but it's a matter of strategy as well.

I'm hoping he'll annihilate my time soon.

I think there's a good chance he will; some of his problem is that he was concerned with how his heart behaved after sprints. So, one of my doctor errands this month was to take him to get a treadmill test.

The results were outstanding. Everything is normal. In fact, according to our family doctor, he's in excellent condition: "You must run," the doc said.

One surprising thing I enjoy doing again

2011-11-11T22:23:00.001-08:00

Now that I'm really, really pregnant, I'm enjoying talking to men I don't know again.

When I was "just a little" pregnant and looked tubby, they had stopped starting conversations with me. Before that, I was getting a lot of irritating, condescending kinds of attention from young men -- and semi-sleaziness from older ones.

Now, I have much more wholesome, friendly dealings, which I prefer, of course. There's nothing like being nine months pregnant that takes any weirdness out of the equation. I'm sure there are pregnancy fetishists, since there are fetishists for darn near everything -- but I haven't been (un)lucky enough to encounter any.

Things I don't want to do anymore

2011-11-11T22:19:00.001-08:00

1) Prepare vegetables. So, when we go out, I make sure I eat a ton.

2) Stand. I'm fine walking. I'm fine sitting. Standing still, however, is incredibly exhausting.

3) Get up. Having to rise from a chair or -- even worse! -- the ground has turned into a huge pain. I'm just happy to stay sitting there doing my Jabba the Hut impression.

Bump photos

2011-11-09T19:37:00.001-08:00

OK, here is the picture. Yeah, I'm just a little high and all in front.

Because the 13-year-old took the pics for me, she then made this request:

"OK, now do a peace sign and fish lips like a teenage girl's Facebook picture."

And I indulged her.

Being overdue

2011-11-09T17:05:00.000-08:00

Here's a video of a woman dancing herself into labor at just over 40 weeks, while pregnant with twins.

I've been there. Well, not the twins part. And I certainly wouldn't choose the Black-Eyed Peas to dance to. (I am a complete and utter music snob, and I hate the Black-Eyed Peas more than I hate Coldplay.)

But my 13-year-old came 20 days "late." It was more that it wasn't a good due date, which I told the OBs from Day 1. In fact, that's what started my habit of "answering the question they want to know rather than the one they're actually asking."

You see, they calculate the baby's due date by asking you the first day of your last menstrual period, and they assume that the baby is conceived about two weeks after that.

For those of us who know when we ovulate (the whole Catholic thing) and who know that it wasn't on that magical two-weeks-later date, the due date is then completely wrong. I've conceived babies more than a month after the doctors would expect as well as earlier.

So, ever since the debacle of 20 days "late" Baby No. 2, I take my ovulation date and subtract two weeks, give that date to the docs -- and then I get a more accurate "due date." All my other children have been born within in a couple of days of their date.

I'm hoping, though, that I won't have to do any baby dances.

A month of appointments

2011-11-08T14:51:00.000-08:00

I finally realized that oh-my-goodness-I'm-having-a-baby-soon. Yes, I know I should have figured it out a while ago, but I just hadn't.

So, this month, I'm doing lots of things I should've been doing over the last few months -- like getting the other kids their physicals and -- just imagine -- nesting a bit. I'm doing baby errands like washing the clothes in Dreft and trying to get organized for the chaos to come.

I now have doctor's appointments every week. I was getting weekly phone calls from a nurse who was part of a program to avoid premature births. But I have, as she said, "graduated" because I'm now 36 weeks along.

In other pregnancy news, Michelle Duggar of "19 Kids and Counting" fame announced today that she is pregnant with No. 20. She's someone who makes me look sane and rational on the reproductive front.

Seriously, although I admire her commitment to her faith, it just seems foolhardy to me to do that, considering her age (older than me) and the fact that she and her baby nearly died with her last pregnancy.

I'm more of a "Trust in God -- but lock your doors" type. I tend to prepare for things -- and that's one reason I'm being more conservative with this birth plan than I have been in the past.

Watermelon, pumpkins and other weird things people say

2011-11-04T22:44:00.000-07:00

Lady ahead of me in line at the grocery store: "Your baby is cute. It looks like a watermelon!"

Lady at the food bank, during our conversation about some promised pumpkin donations: "Did you eat one?"

Chivalrous guy at the 99 Cents Only Store, who offered to let me go ahead of him in line, when I told him I was expecting my fifth: "I have four, too. But there won't be a fifth. Because now I'm gay." (He was kidding.)

Paul's baby

2011-11-02T07:01:00.000-07:00

I hate, hate, hate it when I can't do something and have to ask for help, but that problem is simply hubris, and I've gotten better at getting over it. It also helps that, aside from Paul, I have two other people who can help. Particularly when it comes to moving things, both the teens are as strong or stronger than me and can help. With past pregnancies, I had to wait until Paul got home or do it myself. So, of course, I did a lot myself that I probably shouldn't have. To no apparent ill effects, of course, but it just wasn't prudent.

I asked Paul to move a box for me yesterday because I told him I wasn't ready to have the baby yet.

After he moved it, he said, "What's in here? Rocks? I almost had a baby."

Goofball.

Lentils

2011-11-01T20:47:00.000-07:00

We've been eating a lot of lentil soup and stew lately.

My kids (believe it or not) all like it, providing I'm cautious with the vinegar. I throw whatever leftover vegetables we have in the fridge in, and it's healthy and filling.

I'm not a huge fan myself, but the lentils are nice and cheap in addition to being highly nutritious. Plus, cooking with them is easy, particularly with my crockpot -- but even without it they are a simple one-pot meal. Lentils always remind me of this story, about the philosopher Diogenes:

Diogenes was cooking lentils one day. One of his friends, who had a better position with the king because he had been sucking up to him, told Diogenes: "If you would only learn to compliment Dionysus, you wouldn't have to live on lentils."

Diogenes replied, "But if you would only learn to live on lentils, you wouldn't have to flatter Dionysus."

Pomegrantates return

2011-10-28T08:53:00.000-07:00

The kids and I are delighted because pomegranates are back in season. We all love them, and they make one of my favorite breakfasts or snacks: 1 cup pomegranate arils, 1 cup plain yogurt (Greek is wonderful, but other kinds are really good, too) 1/2 tsp. cinnamon.

Thrifting: One of the things I hated about California when we moved here is that I was used to doing a lot of thrift-store shopping in Indiana -- and the prices out here were usually way too high. It turns out that was just where I have happened to live.

I've found the greatest thrift stores ever, about 60 miles north of me, and they have Indiana-level pricing. We don't go up there often, but when we have a field trip -- like yesterday -- they're can't-miss stops.

Forgetting my pants

2011-10-27T20:53:00.000-07:00

I used to be able to pull off leggings with some of my longer non-maternity sweaters.

Not anymore.

Yesterday, I left the house with the leggings/sweater combo I wore earlier in the pregnancy. I was feeling a little bit self-conscious, so I planned on returning home to add a skirt -- but I figured I could do a quick run to the grocery store. It wasn't all that bad -- or so I thought.

Now, I don't look pregnant from the back. So, in the parking lot of the store, I heard a wolf whistle from behind me. The forgot-my-pants look was to blame, as the belly was pulling the sweater considerably higher.

I hustled out of there to get more adequately dressed.

Baby picture

2011-10-26T09:55:00.001-07:00

Yes, now I am one of those women who puts ultrasound baby pictures on the Internet.

It was the 3D one that pushed me over the edge.

The perinatologist said he has my 9-year-old's nose. Doc went a little crazy with the pics. I think it was partially that he got lucky and got a great angle -- and also that this doc has to deal with all kinds of crazy situations. Oftentimes, it's the weird situations that intellectually engage doctors, in my experience, because they deal with so much that's standard and "normal." For a guy who has nothing but complications and weirdness, something normal is refreshing.

Paul says the baby looks really grumpy. ("And what does he have to be grumpy about? He's got it made!") He's just forgetting that all our new babies have a bit of a grumpy look.

Oh, I forgot to mention that baby is nice and "head down" as well.

34-week checkup

2011-10-25T20:46:00.000-07:00

Everything continues to look great with this pregnancy. My blood pressure is low (high blood pressure is one thing they worry about at my age).

Today, I had another fancy ultrasound with the fancy-dancy high-risk doctor. I got in to see him at about 5:15 p.m. for a 1:30 p.m. appointment. He was warmer than usual because I brought my 9-year-old. He pronounced everything "normal," estimated the baby's weight right now at 6 lbs. 11 oz. and gave me some amazing 3D ultrasound pictures.

I will post one tomorrow.

Granola!

2011-10-23T21:06:00.000-07:00

I made a big thing of granola for the kids yesterday. The problem, of course, is that homemade granola is nothing short of amazing.

But I can't eat it because of the sweetener, even though my homemade granola isn't particularly sweet.

So I made some that I can eat -- it's basically oats, fat and walnuts. The fact that that is still delicious for me is yet another example of how the palate changes.

Friday Flashback: What I Think About When I Think About Running

2011-10-21T20:45:00.000-07:00

This is from 2009. I'm bringing it back because it's the day before this year's "Marathon Kids" kickoff event, which is the program that got me to run (probably more than it did for my kids). Of course, what I think about when I run now is how long I can do it without starting contractions. (So I don't do it much.) And I think about how I miss it.

What I Think About When I Think About Running

With apologies to Haruki Murakami and his wonderful book, What I Talk About When I Talk About Running. . . .

When I run, I think about nothing.
Or the tunes I'm playing.
Or how I'm sick of constantly having to pull up my pants.
Or how long I've been going and how much longer I think I can go.
Or how there are dogs up ahead that I have to watch out for. Or sometimes it's the toddlers, depending on where I am in the run (there are some places on park trails where the path goes right by the playground).

In short, I think about really mundane things. Maybe that'll change as I get in better shape and can focus better. Who knows.

(I also have the rosary on my iPod now, too, and that's a good thing to focus on instead of the ridiculously mundane items.)

After I've run, though, I think about running in a different way.

First, it still blows my mind that I can do it.

At the same time, it's really not that special. In the same way I used to see pregnant women everywhere when I was pregnant, I now see runners everywhere.

What is cool, though, is making the mind leap into doing it. I'm someone who has lived so much more in my head than in my body. The intense physicality of childbearing and mothering kicked me a bit more into my body, but that's still not where my natural strengths lie.

I also think about how I am very grateful, though, to the fact that I have friends who have inspired me. Very quietly, too. It's not like I've really even talked much to them much about running. Or plan to, as I'm in a far different place. Plus, I'm selfish about it. I like to pretend it's special, that it's my thing. I also have to be very much in my own head while I'm running. But, before I started, I heard enough about people (mortals!) I knew doing it that it did become something I thought that maybe I could do.

Then, I also had my "Great Santini" moment with regard to running. My kids started a program, Marathon Kids, sponsored by these same running friends, where the kids recorded their running distances. There was a kickoff/pep rally, and I became aware that I had never and I wasn't sure I could even jog around a 1/4-mile track, which was part of the rally. My girls had no trouble.

At that point, I decided I was not going to be in a situation where my kids were beating me at something physical at the ages of 6 and 10. I read a ton of books (of course!) and figured out my own plan.

It wasn't that long ago that I was detailing my excitement at being able to run for 1/3 of a mile straight (maybe four minutes). Now, I can and do run for hours each week. I've also switched my focus. It was inspiring at first to think about my running in terms of miles; now, I focus on the amount of time more than the distance. Maybe I'll switch back to distance at a certain point, but for now I'm happy with measuring the minutes, not the miles.

Running itself hasn't really seemed to help with the weight loss, although it undoubtedly will, but it definitely has helped my mood and my resting heart rate.

And that's even better.

No longer cold

2011-10-20T09:20:00.000-07:00

Since I lost weight, I had been struggling to stay warm, even out here in Southern California.

I would dress in layers -- and still feel a bit chilly. If I were running, of course, I'd be feeling plenty warm.

Thanks to baby insulation, I am warm again most of the time, a little too warm. Thank goodness the weather is cooling down.

New boots

2011-10-17T06:34:00.001-07:00

I'd had my eyes on these boots for nearly a year.

But I didn't really *need* them. I had a pair, a pair that I have since worn out.

I can't figure out how pricing works sometimes, as when they dropped to under $100 a few weeks ago, I snatched them up. They're now well over $200 and fully stocked in all sizes and colors. When I bought them, there were just a few left.

I had wanted them in red, but since they've arrived I'm glad I went with a more sedate black. There's a bit of a shine to them, and the look can be a little too fetish-y/flashy. When I wear them, I'm turning heads again, even with the massive belly. It would've been that much worse in red.

They're tighter in the calves than I expected. Even though I lost something like 15 inches off my waist, I lost only about 1/2" in each of my calves. It's funny how that works. When I was huge, my legs seemed pretty skinny. Afterwards, they looked more in proportion. I'm assuming I have some slight swelling now as well.

Staying closer to home

2011-10-16T13:14:00.000-07:00

We went to a great party at some good friends' new place last night.

Paul was stressed out by it, though, because it was up a curvy and steep mountain road. He worries about our minivan with its 175,000 miles.

But, also, he's starting to worry about me. He doesn't want me going too far from civilization any more, since I look about to pop, even though I'm quite a ways away.

Clarification

2011-10-14T07:28:00.000-07:00

Of course, I'm not eating the cereal cookies!

I'll admit that I've definitely had more cravings of late, but there's no way I'd eat cookies (or croissants). I'm coming up on my four-year anniversary, and being on plan is as much a habit now.

There have been incidents of people going off plan with cookie dough, so I'm always extra cautious around it, as it is a temptation.

Things I'm loving right now

2011-10-12T13:57:00.000-07:00

1) Cereal cookies: I only buy cereal when I get some tremendous deal. What that means, though, is that I sometimes buy cereal that the entire family ends up turning its collective nose at. Of course, I don't eat the stuff anymore, so I can finish it off. What I can do is make these cookies, which have always tasted great, particularly if I add chocolate chips.

2) My daughter's new Girl Scout troop: The Leader and the other girls have accepted and included her willingly.

3) The book, Make the Bread, Buy the Butter by Jennifer Reese. Paul picked it up for me at work. One thing about working for newspapers is that you oftentimes get free books. It happens less so than in the past, as the publishing industry is changing as quickly as the newspaper ones.

Reese, a a recently laid-off journalist and cook, goes through and figures out what kinds of foods are worth making from scratch -- from the perspective of cost, time and quality.

She has recipes for bacon and croissants, among other things. I had made croissants as a project when I was single, and they were amazing but incredibly time-intensive. I have no plans to raise chickens or cure my own meat, but I did enjoy reading about her adventures along those lines.

Measuring 'big'

2011-10-07T21:13:00.000-07:00

Well, the OB confirmed what strangers all over L.A. have been saying: My belly is bigger than usual for 32 weeks.

Of course, I have big babies, so she was not upset in any way.

Otherwise, things continue to look great: My total weight gain is only 20 pounds. With any luck, I'll get to stay under 200 pounds for the first time in any of my pregnancies. My blood pressure is low.

I'm going to get to go for another fancy ultrasound with the high-risk OB -- not that there are any indications that anything is wrong, just because he had seen some incidences of structural issues with the babies turning up later in pregnancy and he's trying to help avoid surprises.

I'm not on the "ultrasounds are evil" kick that I think I was for at least one of my pregnancies. I find with this baby that I just don't care all that much about all the natural mama stuff. I just want the baby out and healthy. I've had all my drug-free births; this time I feel the need to just make sure he gets out as healthy as possible.

There's no question that life experience has changed me on that front. I've had two friends who have lost babies in homebirths; my sister had a baby die when she was 26 weeks pregnant. It's not that I don't lean crunchy anymore; it's that my natural-is-always-better perspective has been altered from a little Too Much Life.

Being 'cute'

2011-10-07T08:25:00.000-07:00

For the first time in my life -- well, maybe since I was a baby -- I am "cute."

At least that's what the women I run into say.

This is definitely the "smallest" I've been as a pregnant woman -- but the belly is still pretty out there, hence the "cute" description.

Movie review: Moneyball

2011-10-05T20:03:00.000-07:00

Part of my problem with "Moneyball" has to be with my expectations.

I love that book. One of the reasons I love it is that I grew up around professional baseball. More than any other baseball book I've read, Michael Lewis captures the vocabulary and rhythm of the language of the baseball men. It makes me remember my father, who died in 2001.

But, because I love the book so much, I really wanted to love the movie, too.

Unfortunately, it didn't do it for me. There was no baseball "feeling" in the movie. It was basically a made-for-TV-style movie loosely based on the book. Brad Pitt did a decent-enough acting job in it, but I'm not a huge Pitt fan. He's a good actor, but I don't get the fussing over his looks and all that. (Of course, because I married a light-haired and light-eyed man, it is generally dark-haired and dark-eyed ones who intrigue me more. I once told my brother about my irrational fondness for Keanu Reeves. His response: "So you like guys who look really stupid?" Maybe that's another contrast-to-Paul thing.)

Anyway, the plot never really went as deep as I would've liked. Paul had a similar reaction to the whole thing; he has even less tolerance for schmaltz than I do.

Another review: The sanitized, broadcast TV version of "He's Just Not That Into You" was a similar disappointment to me. I also thought that the book version was pretty much brilliant, but the movie -- although enjoyable enough to watch -- ended with a fairy-tale conclusion that was nowhere near true to the book.

Funny comments

2011-10-05T08:30:00.000-07:00

People say the silliest things. At least, with the pregnancy, the silly things don't bother me. The stuff is easier to dismiss.

Here's the latest incident:

I was buying the 15-year-old a CD at the used record store when the clerk (guy around my age) got all friendly.

"How much time do you have left?"

Oh, about eight weeks.

"It looks like you could go any time. My wife never got that big."

Oh, I have big babies. They're always over nine or 10 pounds.

"Are you sure you don't have two in there?"

For some reason, remarks about the size of my belly don't really concern me, nowhere near like the pick-up lines I used to get, which did used to mess with me. I told Paul the story, and he asked if it bothered me.

Then he says, "Well, but you're not particularly thin-skinned, which is a good thing, since you're married to me, Mr. Sensitivity." Even Mr. Sensitivity understands that talking about how big a pregnant woman is isn't the classiest move.

Shrinking

2011-10-02T18:53:00.000-07:00

We've been trying to figure out how tall the kids are going to get. The 15-year-old boy is 5-10, and the 13-year-old girl is 5-8. I'm only 5-6, but Paul hit a top height of just a bit under 6-3. Whenever the 13-year-old lords it over me for being taller, I tell her that the only reason she's taller than me is that I chose a tall father for her.

I've been looking at him lately and realizing that he's just not there anymore. Today, we put him against the wall and measured him, and he's down to about 6-1, more than an inch shorter than when we first met. Of course, that's an inevitable shift; I'll be going down that road eventually as well. Still, for guesstimations of the kids' future heights, I still use the 6-3 figure.

Community property

2011-10-02T11:24:00.000-07:00

One thing a lot of pregnant women complain about is the fact that people want to touch their bellies.

Now, I am one of the least "touchy" people I know. I am not a "hugger," although I do do it and like it when I know and trust the person -- or if there are social expectations. But I'm not the type who routinely greets friends with hugs.

Despite this, I really don't mind it when people touch my belly. For some odd reason, it doesn't feel like "me." If people were touching my belly when I wasn't pregnant, I would have a definite problem. At eight months along, it is totally fine with me.

Whininess

2011-09-28T23:43:00.000-07:00

I promise things won't degenerate further into a whine-fest.

But I have to say that I had forgotten how annoying the last trimester is.

And, as pregnancies go, this one has been pretty great. It's still so much harder to move it isn't funny.

My feet haven't even swelled up, but I'm wearing pretty much one pair of slip-ons with slight heels (for a great 75 percent off Target bargain price of $6.24).

I am getting the comments from people who expected me to get bigger all over: "No offense, but I expected you to be bigger. You're just all belly." I have to credit the eating plan for that.

First concert: Mike Watt

2011-09-27T07:58:00.000-07:00

I took the kids to their first concert today. It wasn't really their first hanging-out-at-a-park concert. It was the first one for the kind of music I would've gone to see pre-kids: Mike Watt and the Missingmen.

The 7-year-old stayed home with Paul, and that was probably a good thing. The 9-year-old probably should've stayed home, too, but she insisted she wanted to come.

Because of the marijuana in the air, I took a walk with the youngest even though the show was outside (and free), just because I didn't want to have to breathe the stuff.

The eldest absolutely loved it.

The fair

2011-09-23T09:26:00.000-07:00

We did our annual trip to the county fair yesterday. Before we left, I stopped off at the grocery store and bought lunch supplies, including some goodies, so the kids wouldn't be tempted by all the terrible food.

The older kids basically don't want to go anymore. It was too hot, and I ended up sitting down a lot.

I had to make sure I drank enough water. And rested, of course.

I was aiming to go on a cool day, but I think it hit 90 degrees yesterday.

Appearances

2011-09-22T21:42:00.000-07:00

I'm sort of a bad blogger, I know, in that I don't get into making all these online friendships. Oh, I have my bloggy favorites and plenty of blogs I like and people with whom I've developed pleasant relationships, but I prefer real and in-person contact.

So, although I've gone through phases where I'm buddy-buddy with the weight-loss bloggers or the running bloggers or the fashion-y bloggers, I'm very bad at maintaining these "relationships." I also don't expect all that much.

Recently, there was an issue with one of the fashion bloggers being accused of doing some really dishonest things. There's been a lot of understandable hand-wringing over the situation. Because I've never gotten into that particularly bloggy clique, I was surprised, but not particularly upset by the situation. The blogger in question wasn't one of my personal favorites, and we had never had any contact whatsoever. One of my blogging friends was an apparent victim, but I hadn't heard about the issue ahead of time.

So I'm a bit distanced. Part of that is that, of course, I'm older than the majority of the fashion bloggers (and fashion's not really the focus here, although I do talk about how appearances/fashion affects how a person is treated). I also had a real-life friend pull that kind of stuff and get away with it in a similar way. If you have a reputation for being sweet, people don't believe it the evidence that is right in front of them. I definitely questioned the evidence right in front of me for while. No one wants to believe that a sweet woman could be lying and stealing. But they do.

When I worked for small newspapers in the Midwest, lots of women would be charged with embezzling from companies or from the small governments for which they worked.

Women don't usually hold up banks or convenience stores. White-collar thievery? Pretty darn common, unfortunately.

Losing mobility

2011-09-18T20:46:00.000-07:00

I'm at the place in pregnancy where it's getting pretty difficult to move. I was a lot heavier in the past, but my weight was distributed more. Now, it is completely centered in my belly, so it's even more comical than usual to try to watch me roll over or get up.

Here's a dressing-the-thinner-pregnant-body challenge: I really need a Size Large to cover the belly comfortably. My shoulders are a Medium. What that means is I'm having to worry about having wardrobe malfunctions with v-neck tops, as they come down too far, showing too much. Plus, I still have no butt to speak of. The large that covers my belly falls off in the back. The medium that fits my butt is uncomfortably tight on the belly. So, basically, nothing fits -- at least not like it used to when I was a consistently XL pregnant woman.

Of course, I have only about 2.5 months to worry about this anyway.

The surgery

2011-09-16T21:29:00.000-07:00

OK, Paul was scheduled for some minor surgery today to remove a cyst on his head that had been growing.

He was getting ready to go in, with his IV in and little hair-protection cap on, when the anesthesiologist came in to talk to him. He wanted to ask for more details regarding his heart issues.

During this exchange, the goofball lets it be known that he's been having chest pains sporadically, including some last night.

He said he didn't tell me because he didn't want me freaking out. Considering how little I freak out about things, that should have been an indication that he should have told me. Dr. Kathleen isn't my nickname for nothing.

Anyway, they canceled the surgery, pending an cardiology evaluation, and I was just as glad.

A message?

I got a solicitation to give money to Planned Parenthood the other day. That had never happened before, so it was sort of strange. I said to Paul, "What's up with this?"

"Maybe they think we need it," he said.

Pregnancy brain

2011-09-13T10:05:00.000-07:00

In the last month, I have 1) locked my keys in my car, 2) misplaced my keys many times, 3) forgot to pick the 15-year-old up from church and, now, 4) managed to misplace my cellphone. I know it's in the house somewhere, as I remember taking it with me on one of my walks with Paul. It, of course, has run out of charge, so I cannot call it in order to find it. I know it will turn up. It's a matter of when.

I've always been a little bit absent-minded about objects, but nothing like this.

A different kind of change

2011-09-12T08:17:00.000-07:00

There's something about being pregnant that makes me feel -- literally -- so much younger. It's not the feeling of psychological, immature youth I had a taste of when I first lost weight. There's actually something physical going on, something that has to be hormone related. Or something.

I have to wash my hair more frequently. Makeup falls off my face, as it used to do when I was young. I haven't swelled up much at all, but my skin feels moister.

This pregnancy, too, has been different because I am all belly, which is unusual. In the past, I have gotten big all over. Now, I still have clavicles and, as my hairdresser says, my face hasn't changed.

Turquoise hair

My 13-year-old got braces about a month ago. Dentists and orthos had been talking about how she needed them for years, but I'm not convinced about the need for early orthodontia. What was prescribed for treatment when she was 8 would've taken at least five years of treatment and cost well over $10,000. Maybe as much as $20,000. Now that she's 13, they're saying she doesn't need much at all and that it will take only a year. Plus, we have better insurance now -- and half of the treatment costs are covered -- and we'll end up paying less than $2,000. I think she grew into her teeth better than people expected.

So, she has braces, and her braces have turquoise bands.

She decided she wanted matching hair, so we got her some Manic Panic hair dye. Fortunately, her hair is light enough that we didn't need to bleach it first.

'Go have a cupcake'

2011-09-10T00:04:00.000-07:00

My OB, clearly a bit surprised that I passed my glucose test, told me to "Go have a cupcake" at the end of my appointment today.

No way.

One reason I passed the stupid thing is that I haven't had a cupcake in nearly four years.

She was just being cute and friendly, though. I didn't get into my eating weirdness.

Strangers are now telling me that I'm going to have a boy because of the way I'm carrying -- all in front and with a little pointy spot where my navel is. It's funny that they're probably right, although I put no stock in those kind of goofy predictions. I always carry high and all in front. And I have two girls.

'Normal'

2011-09-08T10:41:00.000-07:00

I got a call from the doctor's office today, and my blood-sugar levels after the fancy three-hour glucose tolerance test are "normal." My guess is I'll take another one in a few weeks, as it's hard for docs to believe the results considering my past medical and family history. I still think the fact that I haven't had a cookie, ice cream or pasta in the past four years has to make a huge impact, even on that strong negative history.

Otherwise, it feels like summer has finally arrived, just as everyone else is going back to school. We spent hours at the beach yesterday and should probably do more of that.

Veins

2011-09-06T12:49:00.000-07:00

My poor mother suffered from terrible varicose veins, and they started when she was pregnant with me, her eldest, when she was 24.

For that reason, she always worried about me and my legs.

I've made it through four pregnancies, a marathon and hundreds of (slow) training miles with only the mildest of vein issues.

This pregnancy, however, is getting me.

I noticed a pain in my calf the other day. When I looked at it, I saw the swollen veins. So, I'm buying support hose -- for the first time since my first pregnancy. With pregnancy No. 1, I wore the support hose just in case. After that, I didn't bother. Now, I'm going to have to.

Glucose test and goofy remarks

2011-09-03T19:58:00.000-07:00

I went ahead a budgeted out three hours to do my blood-glucose test yesterday. We'll see how it goes. I already heard that my iron levels were fine, which was good news -- last pregnancy I was bit anemic.

It was irritating because I usually get wonderful people at my health-care system of choice; of course, I bring out all the charm. But this time, I got the Bitter Post Office Employee handling check-in at the lab. Later, one of his colleagues mentioned to me that he was only checking in and not helping stick patients like he used to, "because he just got promoted."

So, instead of taking three hours, it took closer to four. But I survived.

I had my blood drawn four times -- an hour apart each time.

While I was waiting, I met my first witty stranger so far this pregnancy, who had to ask if I knew how I got pregnant. At least it was a semi-charming older woman. So I started talking about how grateful I am, that many women can't get (or stay) pregnant at my age, that I'm really lucky and blessed. That usually keeps 'em quiet, and it worked this time as well.

Treadmill running

2011-08-30T22:43:00.000-07:00

I ran/walked for a half-hour today on the treadmill at the gym. It was probably the most running I'd done in a while. I have to do my three-hour glucose tolerance test one of these days, so I'm trying to make sure I'm getting some real exercise in.

I have never passed the one-hour screening while in the second trimester, so that's why we're going straight to the three-hour screening. With my third child, I ended up with gestational diabetes (well controlled with diet); with my fourth, I didn't get the diagnosis, although I ended up with a 10 lb. 6 oz. baby (my biggest by 3/4 of a pound), so maybe I had it after all. Age, of course, makes me at higher risk for it -- plus my family history isn't great.

My six-month's pregnant belly causes a bit of a stir at the gym now. Particularly at night, the gym crowd is pretty young and in shape. Of course, I go from not looking pregnant to looking pretty huge pretty quickly. Yes, I will post a pic one of these days as well.

Giving up on the 30-day song challenge

2011-08-29T07:38:00.000-07:00

Too many of the remaining categories in the 30-day song challenge are just too stupid for me to continue with. For example: "Song that Makes you feel Guilty" and "Song You Wish You Could Play on an Instrument."

So I'm finishing up with two that I could do easily.

First, "A Song from My Childhood":

This was on the radio all the time in the late 70s.

And, finally, "My Favorite Song Last Year at this Time":

The coconut

2011-08-25T23:03:00.000-07:00

My kids, particularly the 13-year-old, are on a big coconut kick right now.

So I finally bought them a fresh one tonight.

They got all excited, and Paul opened it for them with a hammer. Then, everyone started talking about how disgusting it smelled and tasted.

It turns out it was rotten. Bizarre. I'd never seen a rotten coconut before in my life. The first one I buy for the kids is fermenting.

I'll have to get them another one very soon.

Any day now?

2011-08-23T20:51:00.000-07:00

OK, I'm at Trader Joe's today, and the young clerk saw my protruding belly.

His comment: "Any day now, huh?"

Uh, no. I've got three months.

My 15-year-old says I should've shrieked, "I'm not pregnant!!!!"

(Just to mess with the poor guy.)

Maybe next time.

He was a young guy, though, so I give him a break.

Looking pregnant

2011-08-21T19:33:00.000-07:00

Strangers, if they have a clue, can now tell I'm pregnant.

It's always interesting because I start getting comments on how I'm growing. A friend told me I look thinner than ever the other day (except for the belly and breasts, of course). She was concerned, but I've been growing as I should.

It's really funny that I'm eating about what I did to lose weight -- and now I'm gaining. I'm not worried about the gaining, as it's how things are supposed to be. But it's still more evidence in the whole lesson of how weight gain and weight loss aren't simply a calories-in-vs.-calories-out situation. There are extenuating circumstances.

Return to the swanky gym

2011-08-21T19:30:00.000-07:00

I went to the gym today, the gym where I usually run on the treadmills and lift weights.

My newly wussy pregnant self did the Stairmaster and walked on the treadmill for a total of 35 minutes.

My Frappuccino

2011-08-18T08:30:00.000-07:00

I occasionally miss my chubby indulgences. One of those was a Frappuccino from Starbucks.

Now, of course, iced green tea or -- if I'm feeling decadent and flush -- a decaf latte or iced latte are my go-to drinks at chain coffeeshops.

I like to frequent the non-chains when I can, though. For one thing, they can make things for me that Starbucks won't. Of course, I might have to cajole them a bit.

A few days ago, I talked a local coffeeshop into making me a blended latte that I could have. They didn't want to do a drink with just espresso, milk and ice: "It won't taste very good. We have to add some kind of powder." Believe me, I finally persuaded them. I will like it.

And I did.

Facebook drama

2011-08-17T09:42:00.000-07:00

One of my Facebook friends has been posting, all upset, about a fight with her husband. Aside from the fact that those are always uncomfortable to read about, it brought up an interesting issue. The reason she is mad at her husband is that he got mad at her for telling a female neighbor to text her, not him, with regard to scheduling and the like. She got mad at the neighbor because she texted her husband info about her significant other's surprise birthday party.

I think she's overreacting. (As does her husband.)

Of course, I can be conservative on that front myself. I only text or call Other Women's Husbands unless a) the wife has told me to specifically, which often happens or b) it would be stupid and awkward if I didn't -- as in cases where the husband is, indeed, the social director.

I also know, though, that other women, particularly when they don't know me, tend to project much more aggressiveness on me than the men do. Heck, I would have had a lot more fun when I was single if I were half as good with men as other women tend to assume. I had a problem with that when I was single as well as when I first lost weight.

But, anyway, I don't have an issue with other women interacting with my husband; I don't really understand the fuss. Of course, Paul is pretty upstanding, and he has a lovely clueless quality, which would make it hard for any predatory female to have any kind of satisfying interaction with him.

Stretch marks

2011-08-15T22:07:00.000-07:00

Did you know that each baby makes his/her own set of stretch marks?

Not everyone, of course, gets stretch marks. I'm just prone to them. I even got them as an adolescent, just from the normal growth spurt.

So far, though, this baby hasn't done any damage. There's a chance that it just won't happen, as I don't think I'll be gaining the 70 pounds I would need to do in order to get my pregnancy weight equal to what my weight was before the diet.

Day 19: A Song From Your Favorite Album

2011-08-14T22:07:00.000-07:00

OK, of course I have more than one favorite album. "Who's Next?" by the Who is up there. So is "Pet Sounds" by the Beach Boys. I also love "Exile in Guyville" by Liz Phair. Of stuff from this century, I like the Avett Brothers' "I and Love and You."

But, as my teens would say to mock hipsters, those are so mainstream.

One less mainstream (but not completely obscure) favorite albums has to be "It's a Shame About Ray" by The Lemonheads. It's early '90s pure poppiness, and I liked them before I realized what a heartthrob-type the lead singer is, which would've been an irritant in my hipster days. I used to listen to this album all the time, but I saw the video for the first time just now, as I looked for something on YouTube.

24-week checkup

2011-08-12T22:28:00.000-07:00

Once again, everything is normal and perfect at my OB appointment. My blood pressure is something super-low: 100/60. I can see everyone be all shocked, as they're watching me for that because of the whole advanced maternal age thing. I've gained about 15 pounds. I'll be taking another blood-glucose test in the next couple of weeks.

Day 20: A Song That You Listen to When You're Angry

2011-08-11T16:47:00.000-07:00

OK, here's another day in the 30-day song challenge that I cannot do.

I have my definite share of faults, but I am not prone to anger. I'm simply not wired that way. Oh, I can put on a show on occasion to let people know I'm serious, but it's a bit of an acting job.

I think it's hormone- and age-related as well as just general personality. I know Paul, who does have anger issues (which shocks virtually everyone, as he seems meek and choir-boyish to those who don't know him well), struggles much less now than he did when we first got together 18 years ago. When I met him, too, he was much calmer than when he was younger. Women tend to cry when they're angry or frustrated, and I can't remember the last time I did; when I was younger it was more of an issue.

Day 18: A Song I Wish I Heard on the Radio: "For You I Will" by Teddy Geiger

2011-08-09T16:34:00.000-07:00

Teddy Geiger is a much younger, much less sleazy John Mayer-type.

Below is one of my favorite songs by him:

Day 17: A Song You Hear on the Radio All the Time

2011-08-05T17:31:00.000-07:00

There are two answers to this. First, the song I, along with everyone else, cannot escape this summer, is Foster the People's "Pumped Up Kicks." Now, it's an interesting song, but I haven't fallen in love with it. I don't hate it, either. I'm simply ambivalent. Of note: On VH1, when they show the video, they bleep up the words "gun" and "bullets." As my 15-year-old son says, it makes it seems even more bizarre than it is. And it's pretty messed up.

The song I hear on the radio all the time that is the most surprising, however, is "Blister in the Sun," by the Violent Femmes. It was never on the radio when it first came out, at least not in middle America or off the college radio stations. Now, I think I hear it at least once a day. If it's not "Blister," I hear their "Kiss Off," which I like better, as I'm personally less sensitive to drug references than to "big hands" ones.

Walking

2011-08-04T14:55:00.000-07:00

I've been doing a lot of walking, including an hour walk with Paul on Sunday. That became the new standard, but I haven't hit it since.

Otherwise, I'm feeling fine.

We went to see this band on Sunday. I found it amusing, but the kids were not impressed. Unlike most tribute bands, which just play songs from one group, the Platinum Rockstars do a half a dozen, complete with costume changes and different personas.

Day 16: A Song That You Used to Love But Now Hate: Phoenix's "Lisztomania"

2011-08-04T14:50:00.000-07:00

"Hate" is such a strong word, but it's starting to happen with this song, largely because of excessive radio play.

My enemy: Product reformulations

2011-07-29T11:42:00.000-07:00

Why is it that when products get reformulated companies invariably add things that make it so I cannot eat them?

I have to watch which kind of Ry-Krisp crackers I choose, as some of them now have corn (they didn't in 2007).

Today, I discovered that my beloved wasabi mayonnaise from Trader Joe's now has "modified corn starch."

What. The. Heck.

I really like intense flavors. Most wasabi paste has all kinds of additions. The TJ's mayo used to be "clean" for me to eat, and I would make chicken salad or tuna salad with it, in order to get my fix of intensity.

No more.

90-minute walk

2011-07-28T10:47:00.000-07:00

Paul needed the car this morning, and I also needed to get the kids to summer camp (Vacation Bible School).

So we walked. It took 45 minutes to get there and back.

It was good to get some sustained exercise. I like exercise that seems purposeful, and this fit the bill.

Chicago-style pizza and too much food

2011-07-26T12:43:00.000-07:00

No, I can't eat Chicago-style pizza -- but the kids liked it. I was out of white flour, so it had to be whole wheat -- a little nod to healthiness. I'll tweak the recipe when I do it again, but it was rather easy, and last time I made it was probably 10 years ago.

Paul says, "You should make something fancy that you can eat."

I was inspired to make Chicago pizza, though, after we all saw a Food Network show on it; it made the kids remember our last big family trip -- when Paul took three weeks off and we drove back to Indiana. We did a mix of camping and hotels, and the kids got some great memories out of it. I think it'd be hard for my two adult-sized people to stay cramped in the minivan for that long now, but they say they'd love to do it again.

Right now, when it comes to my food, I'm having trouble eating as much as I'm supposed to. I'm just not hungry.

The good news, of course, it that I wouldn't say my morning sickness is 100 percent gone, but it's darn close.

The rose-colored glasses effect

2011-07-25T22:05:00.000-07:00

Right after I wrote about Paul's young-looking appearance, while confessing my possible delusions, I saw this article in today's Los Angeles Times. It's all about the advantages of being romantically delusional.

Getting grief

2011-07-25T07:48:00.000-07:00

I feel sorry for Paul.

My friends are generally polite enough to be outwardly positive about my profligate ways, even if they're thinking something else behind my back.

His friends offer to send him boxes of condoms.

Is is any wonder he hasn't told many people?

One of the guys he works with found out through my Facebook page about my pregnancy. I warned Paul that he might say something at work. This guys is known for being loud and a bit of a clown.

Although he did say something, it was positive and in private and he didn't mention it to anyone else. He knows Paul, and he apparently figured out that discretion would be a good idea. There were no jokes and no loud shouts across the room. I am grateful.

My own shallowness: OK, I'm now Facebook friends with every guy from my oh-so-illustrious past, as it took one of them a while to join the silliness. The thing that is most striking to me on seeing their photos is this: Paul is older than all of them by anywhere from 5 to (more typically) 13-15 years, but he looks better than any of them. Of course, I'm biased, but I think I'm objectively right on this one. He's lucky because he has retained most of his natural tendency to be thin -- plus, he hasn't lost any hair. Those things make a huge difference.

2011-07-24T22:01:00.000-07:00

Our lives change when our physical reality changes.

No kidding, right?

But seriously, a lot of people don't expect that. They expect to move to a different city or a different neighborhood or a different kind of house and recreate their previous lifestyle. Sometimes it works; sometimes it doesn't.

Our life has changed a lot with each move, primarily because our situations are different. We've lived in big houses and small apartments. We've lived in the desert, and we've lived near the ocean.

Although our family life is generally the same, there are nonetheless some changes. When we lived in the desert where the temperature would be over 100 degrees for months, we spent a lot of time in the pool, and I'd do my errands either very early in the day or after the sun went down. When we lived in northern Indiana, sometimes we'd literally get snowed in. Now, we're blessed with moderate weather, and I rarely have to alter my schedule for weather-related reasons.

I've found, too, of course, that my personal physical reality makes a big difference in my life. I mean, it doesn't change me all that much, but it definitely changes how others react.

I really discovered that when I lost weight; at the same time, I was also aware that there wasn't an apt comparison -- too many variables. I felt so much better after losing weight that not only did I look better but I had a much more positive "energy," to get all California New Age-y on you.

With early pregnancy, though, I discovered that my physicality was not received nearly as well among strangers as it was when I had more of a waist. I didn't have to deal with annoyingly and condescendingly flirtatious young men. The fiftysomethings didn't leap to get doors for me. I was still feeling pretty good, although less energetic than usual, but I was being ignored again.

For a second, I got a little irritated by it. You see, I had gotten accustomed, again, to the certain level of chivalry that all moderately attractive women receive from strangers. So, as men would push ahead of me in line or look through me, it ticked me off. I would think: "I'm pregnant, darn it -- you're not supposed to cut pregnant women." Of course, I didn't look pregnant. I just looked a little tubby, particularly to a typically untrained male eye.

Now I do look pregnant, of course.

And the chivalry has returned, at least until after the baby comes. But that will be a different experience in itself.

Habits

2011-07-22T14:05:00.000-07:00

I found an amazing story about a month ago about habits and how to change them.

The gist is this: It's easier for people to do something that's good for them every single day rather than to try to start off a good habit slowly or incompletely.

It makes sense.

I mean, when I was running daily is when I felt the best and made the most progress. (I wanted to mention that now I've been getting too many contractions after running to do it regularly or for very long.)

When it comes to eating, I don't do cheat days. Sometimes people think it's weird. I just know it'd be too hard to get back on the wagon.

Even now, my best days start off with immediately getting up and making breakfast. If I get on the computer or pick up the paper first, it turns out that I've lost an hour of some of my most productive time.

New craving: Chicken tortilla soup

2011-07-21T09:27:00.000-07:00

I have no interest in In-N-Out burgers anymore. Now, I'm into chicken tortilla soup (without tortillas!).

I know, it's summer and it's not soup weather. L.A. weather is so strange, though, that there can be a bit of a chill in the air.

I have two recipes for it. One involves enchilada sauce as a base; the other uses a simple chicken or veggie broth. Both have shredded cabbage.

Day 15: A Song That Describes You -- Gold digger

2011-07-21T09:24:00.000-07:00

Yes, I'm kidding.

Finding a "song that describes you" is the ultimate in solipsism, isn't it? Of course, blogging in itself has a strong element of self-absorption.

Anyway, I went with the opposite version, the song that is about as far from me as they come.

Somewhat related: Paul talking about a story from years ago about a man who didn't come home to his wife because he was spending the night with some other woman. "OK, I'm not a woman -- but why would any woman put up with that?" he asked. I told him I thought it was probably related to economic dependency, particularly since this story came from about 30 years ago.

Of course, I'm one to talk. Although I'm very economically dependent, I don't really feel like it, I said. He agreed. "If you were the one working, we'd be living a lot better," he said, in recognition of the fact that I always have been good at advancing professionally when he has struggled with it. We might have more money, but I'm not convinced our lives would be better, as I'm much more likely to make work my life -- even though intellectually I reject the values that kind of behavior reveals. It's too easy to fall into being a workaholic from a lack of mindfulness, at least it is for me.

The tiebreaker

2011-07-19T14:42:00.000-07:00

Great news from my 20-week ultrasound.

Of course, ultrasounds are not 100 percent predictors of anything baby-related. This baby could still come out with some issues -- or be the opposing gender. At the same time, the guy I went to has been doing these things for 30 years and he's seen everything. They call him "Dr. Amnio." They warn you when you go to see him that you'll be waiting for hours because he has so many emergencies among his high-risk patients. The only reason I'm anywhere near high-risk is the calendar, of course, but I knew that doing this would make my regular, non-high-risk OB happier.

Anyway, Dr. Amnio did my ultrasound and baby is free of all the "soft markers" for genetic defects. Baby still could have a trisomy, but it would be unlikely. (Down Syndrome is the most common of these chromosomal issues -- but it's also the survivable one)

Baby's spinal cord is also nice and closed. Since I don't eat flour, which is usually fortified with folic acid (which is needed for proper formation of the spinal cord), I has a teeny bit of worry over that issue -- but I eat so many fruits and vegetables that I apparently had plenty of folic acid.

Anyway, I was just thrilled to hear that there was no evidence of any abnormalities. I would've accepted abnormalities, of course, but it's nice to know any issues are not obvious. I have four genetically normal and perfectly formed and perfectly flawed children -- and this one looks as though he will be following in their footsteps.

And, yes, the good doctor's prediction is that we are having another boy, which will make the score: Boys 3, Girls 2.

Day 14: A Song That No One Would Expect You to Love

2011-07-19T14:14:00.000-07:00

Is it really possible that I could surprise people anymore with my bizarre taste in music?

But one thing I rarely talk about on the blog is my faith life. I still don't plan to do a whole lot of that.

So, because of that, I'm sure this song might surprise people more than my twangy country or hardcore rap. I almost asked for it at our wedding, but I realized that would not be exactly good form. (It's often played at funeral Masses.)

Day 13: A Song That is a Guilty Pleasure, "You're So Vain" by Faster Pussycat

2011-07-16T11:12:00.000-07:00

Yes, I have a thing for late-'80s glam rock Sue me.

Too old for the midwives

2011-07-14T18:48:00.000-07:00

Today started out with a lot of excitement. I found out that there are midwives delivering in one of the local hospitals -- and they take my insurance.

What's great about that is that is satisfies Paul's desire for a hospital birth with my wish to avoid a surgical birth. The C-section rate for women in the midwives' practice is 10 percent, which is about a third of what's typical in the U.S. right now. Although I am found of my OB, the reality is that trained surgeons are more likely to see surgery as a way to fix a problem, even if there are other ways that might work as well.

But, before I got too excited, I figured I better call them. Sure enough, they won't deliver someone my age, despite my darn good track record with regard to birth. The midwife I talked to did suggest that the labor and delivery nurses at their hospital are used to working with midwives and are committed to low-interventions births, so that's definitely good news.

Now I have to do more research to find an OB who is definitely comfortable with low-intervention births as well. Instead of just asking the OBs (including my own), I have my spies out.

Mortality

2011-07-13T08:18:00.000-07:00

As Paul approaches 60, he has become more worried about death. The pregnancy hasn't helped, of course. It also doesn't help that he's just a few months younger than my father was when he died -- and just a couple of years younger than his own father was. He's in much better physical condition than either of our dads were, but that doesn't stop the worries.

So, he comes up with extensive plans for me, plans in case he dies. (Yes, we can categorize this under our "weirdness.") We also talk about what he should do in the case of my death. The reality, of course, is that neither of us would do what the other says we should. We're just that ornery.

He worries about finances, particularly with the new baby coming -- partially because he makes me look like a spendthrift and that's his natural concern. Without the baby, he would have fewer worries, as he knows I'd have no trouble supporting the family if I needed to. He knows how intensely I get into babies, however, and I would have tremendous trouble leaving one, although I did it with my eldest. Paul was the caregiver, and that didn't bother me as much.

He tells me I should leave town and go either to someplace much cheaper or where my relatives are, which is cheaper but not much cheaper than L.A.

So he then starts thinking about what kind of guy I should date. As if I'd have any time. My focus would be on the kids rather than on that kind of stuff. Plus, a mourning, mid-40s woman with five children wouldn't exactly be a hot ticket.

Although health concerns and a conscious awareness of mortality are happy little subjects that have pervaded our marriage (thanks to a scare early on), we had had a bit of a break from them since I lost weight. The baby, particularly with the kind of medical fussing I've received this time, has kick-started some of the worries again.

Day 12: Least favorite song: Surfer Girl

2011-07-13T07:57:00.000-07:00

This is supposed to be "A Song from a Band You Hate," if I were perfectly following the rules of the 30-day Song Challenge. Except I messed up and did that one on Day 2.

The Beach Boys would qualify as a "band I hate" except that Pet Sounds is one of the best albums of all time. What I hate, though, is their "surf music." You know, "California Girls," "Fun, Fun, Fun," "Be True to Your School." Unfortunately, however, that's the majority of their stuff.

"Surfer Girl," however, is one of the worst songs ever.

Day 11: A song from your favorite band

2011-07-12T10:40:00.000-07:00

A favorite band? I've got tons of favorite bands. Picking one? Not very easy.

But, the band I have the most natural and long-lasting affection for is the post-punk-pre-grunge-alterna-band The Replacements, who I found in 1986. They broke up about five or six years later. They're not particularly good musicians, and they tend to be sloppy or drunk so they can sound even worse than they are. But they have their flashes of brilliance, and I think this song, "I Will Dare," is one of them.

Now, my son loves them, of course, too, so I'm getting exposure again.