Pardon the alliteration. It's my attempt at being clever and witty. You see, I have pregnancy brain and it has rendered out my creativity to a thin myelin on my general humor. Mommy medulla, if you will. I'm 26 weeks along and look 35 weeks. The nose dive in attention given to consecutive pregnancies has not been lost on our family. Journals, pictures, sound diet, and general contemplation are all fond memories of a time and place called Pregnancyland. Though my brain seems to have gone there on holiday, I'm living in Toddleropolis and it's quite a disparate existence. Our little guy is healthy in all the ways we can tell from prenatal tests (thanks, state of Cali) and general mommy well-being. We call him Baby BG and, when the few moments of contemplation come, we wonder wonder wonder about him.
Nate is well into his third quarter of school in the Latin American Studies department. His prospectus to an all-Grad symposium was accepted, so he'll be giving a talk this Thursday that will connect an area of his research on a community from the area of Bolivia we lived to the symposium's key focus topic, memory. Nate is also waiting for word, more like an official verification, of a research grant he applied for to study in Bolivia. He is working again at 50% time, still as a graduate student researcher, and as the primary translator for a book written in Spanish, authored by a visiting scholar from Peru. Prioritizing all of that with being a dad and husband has required a herculean effort, not without its drawbacks. The pressure is tremendous.
Speaking of. We have used a pressure cooker on a weekly basis for almost a decade, but two weeks ago as I was just about to turn down the heat after the cooker reached full steam the overpressure plug completely blew out. Our wall is now stained a pale blue and I just paid $2 s/h for a $3 replacement part. It was also very loud.
I think parking is going to be an issue for me, here in California. Not for lack of it, but for the tiny, parallel spaces provided. In most parking situations, I can't open Natalie's door all the way so, while trying not to scratch the neighbor car, squeeze one arm inside to unbuckle (or buckle) and pull her out. A one-armed pull is much easier than the replacement scenario. There are more than a few reasons for moms not leaving the house with the kiddos.
