tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-279460422012-01-13T01:57:47.370-05:00"YOU'RE moving to Boston? Like...seriously?"jmhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01466095679853703508noreply@blogger.comBlogger5371100tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27946042.post-64741602918406895902012-01-12T12:48:00.002-05:002012-01-12T12:52:09.920-05:00

I just finished reading Jeffrey Eugenides’ The Marriage Plot, and was hooked from the first line, “To start with, look at all the books.” Books and reading are central to the character development, but I especially loved the use of “Sometimes They Were Very Sad” from Ludwig Bemelmans’s Madeline as a section title. Zygote loves Madeline, and so did/do I. “And Sometimes They Were Very Sad” is my

jmhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01466095679853703508noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27946042.post-13448408315816962552012-01-07T11:31:00.002-05:002012-01-07T11:38:02.997-05:00

Money Lessons. Zygote: Where are you going, Daddy?YG: I'm going to Seattle.Zygote: Why?YG: I'm talking to some people about a job.Zygote: Why?JM: Mommy and Daddy both work and sometimes we like to have new jobs.Zygote: Why?YG: Because we want money.Zygote: Why?YG: We want to work hard now and make money so that we don't have to work so hard later and can have nice things now.Zygote: Why? YG: You

jmhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01466095679853703508noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27946042.post-19062614716654093502011-11-22T13:43:00.002-05:002011-11-22T13:46:13.202-05:00

My daddy has a boo boo. And a diaper. Daddy has a boo boo on his pee. I can't touch it. I don't understand why you need the surgery. You can just not have sex. . . Gross. If I can't say "balls," what do you call them? What? Testicles sounds worse than balls.

jmhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01466095679853703508noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27946042.post-38132841789934627022011-11-08T22:37:00.002-05:002011-11-08T22:41:56.231-05:00

Scene: JM finishes telling YG the harrowing story of spending 2.5 hours on a Sunday in urgent care with two sick babies that culminated in some hipster douchebag asking, "is anyone going to do something about that screaming baby?"JM: Well, so I lost it. I told him he could suck my dick.YG: That's so crude.JM: Suck my dick.YG: You know I hate it when you say that.JM: Can you think of a more

jmhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01466095679853703508noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27946042.post-75891043057142549302011-10-31T21:30:00.001-04:002011-11-01T21:31:20.780-04:00

jmhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01466095679853703508noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27946042.post-30541493327504362742011-10-28T20:49:00.003-04:002011-10-28T20:59:45.286-04:00

I'm working on a new project, a new blog that narrows my focus down to the things I get all frothy and excited about: food, clothes, nutrition, "women's issues," etc. I wanted to keep the Like Seriously name, but then I couldn't think of a word for women that wasn't either insulting (Like Seriously Bitches) or too twee (Like Seriously Chicks). I went with Grrrls because maybe, deep down, I am

jmhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01466095679853703508noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27946042.post-88978858381601714692011-10-16T21:17:00.000-04:002011-10-16T21:18:15.896-04:00

Or how I spent my maternity leave.

jmhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01466095679853703508noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27946042.post-30405387681579888872011-09-27T20:42:00.002-04:002011-09-27T20:45:11.125-04:00

Image from Hyperbole and a HalfYesterday was my first day back at work. And then I went back today. And then I had to drink beer. My placard: Will work for new job.

jmhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01466095679853703508noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27946042.post-81262440811927273212011-09-22T23:59:00.003-04:002011-09-23T00:05:17.463-04:00

Sometimes they look so alike to me. I know they are two different kids with two different personalities, but when they have the same expressions, it can take my breath away. I'm sure this is just the beginning of things that they will discuss later on in therapy. 'YOU never let me be my own person' and whatnot. Z2, taken Sept 2011 back in Whippany in my old bedroom. Zygote, taken Sept 2009 back

jmhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01466095679853703508noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27946042.post-57744249351167556602011-09-14T21:02:00.002-04:002011-09-14T21:09:57.084-04:00

Z2 is lovely for most of the day. And then around 6pm, the screaming begins. Not regular screaming, but ear-piercing shrieks and howls that cannot be placated with food or snuggles or anything. I'm convinced our neighbors think we are torturing this kid. It's terrible under most circumstances, even more so when you are alone and trying to convince the other child not to poop in the tub. Have a

jmhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01466095679853703508noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27946042.post-49025661062106963132011-09-10T23:00:00.002-04:002011-09-10T23:27:55.904-04:00

I have to stop watching all the 9/11 memorials. I feel like that is disrespectful (to whom?) in some ways, but I don't know how I can endure tomorrow unless I go into media blackout. I just sat through MSNBC's special which was basically a rebroadcast of their live show on 9/11/01. Watching all that information filter in, before we knew anything, felt like a punch to the gut. I alternate between

jmhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01466095679853703508noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27946042.post-41330061330982174632011-09-05T22:11:00.013-04:002011-09-05T22:29:46.851-04:00

More on the 35 milestone later. First birthday. Sweet sixteen -- black dress, colored fishnets. I'd still dress this way every day if I thought I could get away with it. Eighteen, right before college. My mom looks like she could be Zygote's twin. Nineteen, before I realized that plucking means shaping the entire brow, not just the Scorcese in between. Twenty. London. With NN and

jmhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01466095679853703508noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27946042.post-13293731109572907492011-09-04T23:47:00.000-04:002011-09-05T00:13:51.260-04:00

Scene: YG shuffles the deck of Uno cards for Uno Smackdown Night, also known as what married people with kids do on a weekend night. JM: Did you fart? YG: . . . JM: Seriously, you like fart all the time now. YG: I'm you now. JM: . . . YG: And now I am the Uno Master. JM: You really are me. YG: Role reversal. JM: You fart all the time, you're the Uno Master and you are angrily beating up

jmhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01466095679853703508noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27946042.post-22016848908387758402011-09-04T19:26:00.002-04:002011-09-04T19:46:35.542-04:00

Not as much as I would have liked, but good enough. One phrase recaps: * When You Are Engulfed in Flames by David Sedaris. Funny enough to read in the hospital with a screaming baby. * That Old Cape Magic by Richard Russo. Russoesque, but not as good as his other stuff. * I Could Do Anything If I Only Knew What It Was: How to Discover What You Really Want and How to Get It by Barbara Sher and

jmhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01466095679853703508noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27946042.post-32659087394400381942011-08-25T23:25:00.002-04:002011-08-26T00:23:30.160-04:00

The years fly by, but the afternoons last forever. I've heard that expression twice this week, and holy crap, does it resonate. This has been the week of both 'Look at her. Look at her. Look at how she smiles at me' and 'Maybe I should just go away someplace. Some people really shouldn't be parents. They would be better off without me.' Every week is Bipolar Awareness Week here. The Terrible

jmhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01466095679853703508noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27946042.post-46130389151152900362011-08-19T20:56:00.004-04:002011-08-19T21:10:53.108-04:00

JM: * had nothing bitchy to say to the woman who told her the stroller was taking up too much room on the bus. If you have nothing bitchy to say, don't say anything at all. * is a bit like Leonard Cohen except I chafe in the places where I used to play. * wants to drop these screaming kids off on the Sears' door. Attach yourself to this, fuckers. * needs a mommy cause to really fit in with

jmhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01466095679853703508noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27946042.post-841785691368983392011-08-18T21:25:00.002-04:002011-08-18T21:30:13.110-04:00

JM: It's gross. YG: How do you not like this? It's just vanilla pudding. JM: With balls in it. YG: You like balls. Together: In my/your mouth. #married well.

jmhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01466095679853703508noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27946042.post-77812474998834662212011-08-16T01:45:00.002-04:002011-08-16T02:02:51.266-04:00

Re: News Dad to Mom: You know, Brian listens to that National Public Radio. NPR? JM to sister: THAT National Public Radio. Re: Transgendered Members of the Family Person 1: Well, of course, I accept it, but it's hard. You know in my day, a homo was a homo and a regular person was a regular person. Person 2, in heavy NY accent: I have to say, it all gets very confusing. Re: Genetics Mom: The [

jmhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01466095679853703508noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27946042.post-15120946793450437102011-08-08T17:11:00.002-04:002011-08-08T17:21:41.885-04:00

Vacationing in Long Island. . . jm: The Mosquitos are crazy out here. They keep attacking me. jm: it must be because I taste so sweet. YG: and not because you are a big sweaty horse. jm: ...blink...did you just call me a fat horse? YG: Yes. jm: . . .blink... YG: because of your running. You are so equine. jm: ...blink... YG: strong and sleek. jm: ...blink... YG: equine. Not...bovine. jm:

jmhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01466095679853703508noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27946042.post-85282727915901557032011-07-20T22:43:00.002-04:002011-07-20T22:47:25.388-04:00

YG: I've been obsessed with rims lately.JM: RIM SHOT!YG: Let me rephrase that. I've been looking into new rims.JM: Yeah, baby, I'm going to get new with your rims.YG: I don't even remember who built my rims.JM: God made your rims. YG: You really are a twelve year old boy.

jmhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01466095679853703508noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27946042.post-48920847910888336492011-07-19T15:47:00.002-04:002011-07-19T15:53:02.467-04:00

Examples of why I need to clean up my language:* I was working on an essay and went to describe something as "that's so gay" and thought that I needed something better that wouldn't offend the mos. The first thought that popped into my head as an alternative was, "that's so retarded." Hmmm....* During a particularly bad toddler tantrum, I said, "Oh.My.God. You need to stop it with this

jmhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01466095679853703508noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27946042.post-29988146963003930872011-07-17T22:36:00.003-04:002011-07-17T23:17:49.963-04:00

The Casey Anthony TrialI didn't really follow any of this and in fact, finding that Wikipedia link was probably was the most information I've ever consumed about the case. Generally my rule is that if Nancy Grace is talking about it, it isn't worth following because she is a fear mongering nutcase. Of course, I am horrified by the murder of this child, but I honestly don't understand all the

jmhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01466095679853703508noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27946042.post-3756097189345760912011-07-15T14:33:00.002-04:002011-07-15T14:47:32.934-04:00

Z2 turned six weeks old today. As with Zygote, the time has alternatively flown by and dragged ridiculously. It's amazing how little I manage to get done with all this supposed time. Z2 is doing well. She's a porker (12 lbs at 1 month old), so the vast majority of my time has been spent feeding her while watching lots of TV (finally jumped on the Glee bandwagon!) Other things I have been doing:*

jmhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01466095679853703508noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27946042.post-10040373462008902622011-07-09T21:51:00.001-04:002011-07-09T21:52:42.657-04:00

I am taking pleasure in the small accomplishments. I finished two books since Z2 was born. Nothing major, but a reminder that I still get to be me sometimes.

jmhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01466095679853703508noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27946042.post-39385896826706784172011-07-09T21:42:00.003-04:002011-07-09T21:51:18.373-04:00

Another blogger pointed me toward 30 Lessons My Parents Didn't Teach Me, and it deserves much more praise and reflection than I can give it right now. But it resonated deeply with me. I have been spending A LOT of time with my parents lately, and I am grateful for all of their help post baby, but with parents and kids there is always baggage. But now I'm the parent, so how do and can I prevent

jmhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01466095679853703508noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27946042.post-13526853057195735702011-07-06T17:31:00.001-04:002011-07-06T17:32:59.563-04:00

Email from YG: Please keep the weekend of November 18 free as I am going to need a ride and will be on the couch. Subject line: Big V - Snip, Snip

jmhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01466095679853703508noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27946042.post-71562382501990608002011-07-02T17:02:00.001-04:002011-07-02T17:03:34.138-04:00

I gave myself a month to just be with Z2. No projects, no writing, no real reading, although I did manage to finish a David Sedaris book that made me pee my pants a little. Z2 turns one month tomorrow. Time to find a real job.

jmhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01466095679853703508noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27946042.post-26659906317735716262011-06-26T16:33:00.004-04:002011-06-26T16:38:10.850-04:00

Old pics. Me as a baby with my mom, and my mom as a little kid. Followed by Z and Z2.

jmhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01466095679853703508noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27946042.post-6242319766876619972011-06-22T11:05:00.001-04:002011-06-22T11:07:29.732-04:00

That about sums it up. That's one of Larry Smith's, founder of the Six Word Memoir Project, best ones yet. Check his blog post on Isis.

jmhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01466095679853703508noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27946042.post-14547624851117540452011-06-12T15:44:00.002-04:002011-06-12T15:49:58.197-04:00

Unedited. Dear Z2 –Here is the story of your birth. As with your sister, for some reason, we never really expected you to come early. I prepped my hospital bag around week 37, and your dad and I made arrangements for someone to take care of MG and Zygote, if needed. Still, we just knew you would be hanging around in utero for a while. We both went to work everyday; Zygote went to daycare

jmhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01466095679853703508noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27946042.post-83274056631328919532011-06-09T16:56:00.001-04:002011-06-09T16:56:32.840-04:00

I cried. CRIED.

jmhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01466095679853703508noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27946042.post-32239169688769438782011-06-02T21:26:00.001-04:002011-06-02T21:26:35.757-04:00

Wish us luck, and catch you on the other side.

jmhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01466095679853703508noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27946042.post-11930501647111931032011-05-27T21:09:00.002-04:002011-05-27T21:17:59.165-04:00

That's one week from today. If nature doesn't run its course before then, at this time next week, I will likely have a new baby and will be spending my first night in Mt. Auburn. Baby by appointment. Weird. Z2's 37 week ultrasound showed him or her measuring at 8 lbs 15 oz. Those measurements are notoriously fickle, but I feel like this is another big kid. I read a story on the Internets about a

jmhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01466095679853703508noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27946042.post-53452770205088177122011-05-23T20:10:00.004-04:002011-05-23T20:30:45.168-04:00

Via blog stalking, I stumbled across this awesome site, Curve Appeal. Lots of cute, curvy chicks in their underpants, sometimes more, sometimes less. It's refreshingly honest. My favorite feature is the 'search by size' one because it makes my own body dysmorphia really apparent. I look at the other women my size and think they are adorable and curvy and hot. Look at myself? Not so much. I'm

jmhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01466095679853703508noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27946042.post-2234295441297381742011-05-21T20:16:00.002-04:002011-05-21T20:19:45.846-04:00

Well, I'm still here. But just in case the world was going to end, I made sure to gorge myself on grilled meats and about 10 slices of a lemon sheetcake from Verna's, or essentially a giant cake of lemon donut. Go ahead and judge me -- tis the season, after all.

jmhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01466095679853703508noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27946042.post-27811076772403865992011-05-17T20:27:00.003-04:002011-05-17T20:39:59.386-04:00

Google Analytics always makes me happy. You have found me using the following search terms:* I really had to poop (who googles this?)* Brother sister pee stories* Jesus is risen blog (this one makes me laugh only because I wonder if Jesus 2.0 is going to tweet about his impending arrival)* Peed my pants at a babysitter* Woman who pooped on herself Poop, pee and Jesus. Well, I guess I have a niche.

jmhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01466095679853703508noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27946042.post-59243589275642797332011-05-14T22:37:00.002-04:002011-05-14T22:41:06.552-04:00

YG: [unintelligible mumbling] beauty sleepJM: What? What are you talking about?YG: Can you listen for Zygote in the morning so I can sleep in? I got up with her. JM: I always listen for her.YG: ....JM: It's not my fault that you get up with her. YG: Just listen harder.JM: How about you listen to my fist up your butt? YG: [Shakes head, walks away].Seriously, it's MY issue if he gets up with her?

jmhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01466095679853703508noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27946042.post-55991359245567706202011-05-13T15:04:00.002-04:002011-05-13T15:32:10.970-04:00

And much like last time, I am still here, kind of hanging out with nothing going on. I have another big kid and another "tight as a drum" cervix. I have heard that expression used three times this week, and while I never really imagined what kinds of adjectives and terms one might use to describe a cervix, that one just sounds wrong. I had a brief moment of imagining that things might be

jmhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01466095679853703508noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27946042.post-6061610409123157012011-05-10T18:22:00.002-04:002011-05-10T18:58:32.672-04:00

A friend in Oz told me about this blog post, The Books That Changed Me. I don't know who this woman is other than what her descriptor says -- "named one of Oz's top 20 public intellectuals and Humanist of the Year 2011" -- but I liked her books, and I was inspired. 1. Anne of Green Gables - Lucy Maud Montgomery: This book kind of started it all -- this lifelong love affair with reading. I

jmhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01466095679853703508noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27946042.post-25697576505453380262011-05-08T10:32:00.010-04:002011-05-08T10:48:05.404-04:00

Because there's not anything very succinct you can say about being someone's mother. Or daughter, for that matter.

jmhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01466095679853703508noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27946042.post-88248760514475825672011-05-06T21:06:00.001-04:002011-05-06T21:06:45.077-04:00

Motherfucker. That.is.all. Two days of steroids, and I am still itchy, itchy, itchy.

jmhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01466095679853703508noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27946042.post-87388317533313963832011-05-03T21:10:00.003-04:002011-05-03T21:27:22.230-04:00

I saw this post, “This Time Last Year…” A Family Reflecting Activity, on Alphamom earlier today, and it put some of my latest headcake into perspective. I keep thinking that I am completely stuck and that things on the career front are never going to change, but a lot can happen in a year. Or five. Five years ago, my little family in this family reflecting activity didn't even exist. This year we

jmhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01466095679853703508noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27946042.post-9852987086513090212011-05-02T16:13:00.000-04:002011-05-02T16:14:07.067-04:00

Unless you are living in the cave that Osama Bin Laden was supposed to be hiding out in (and wasn’t), you know by now that he is dead. Killed in a firefight by US forces in Pakistan. I don’t feel very Christian or human feeling relieved about someone’s violent death. There are people celebrating in the streets and chants of ‘USA! USA,’ and while I understand the sentiment and I’m very proud of

jmhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01466095679853703508noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27946042.post-27219715548244248762011-05-01T20:04:00.002-04:002011-05-01T20:16:59.612-04:00

I didn't realize it and therefore had no very special moment planned. How I spend my time when I am not writing and/or in the place that dare not speak its name (read: work).

jmhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01466095679853703508noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27946042.post-16011542301768745252011-04-30T15:46:00.003-04:002011-04-30T15:52:47.240-04:00

My kid is infuriating a lot of the time, but she makes up for it in cuteness and smarts. This morning she wanted something that I wouldn't give her (I can't even remember what it is right now, as she is always demanding something). I told her that she needed to wait and this immediately set off a set of hysterics and fake wailing that generally sets my teeth on edge. She will hurl herself on to

jmhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01466095679853703508noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27946042.post-86450557481564435742011-04-29T10:39:00.002-04:002011-04-29T11:07:05.994-04:00

So more on the work stuff. Or enough that I feel comfortable sharing. My annual review this year was shitty. Or that's not true -- the review was fine, but the related compensation was not. I got zero, nada, zip -- a 0% raise. And that's something I could probably swallow if the company was doing shitty or there was something in my performance review that indicated I was worthy of NOTHING, but

jmhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01466095679853703508noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27946042.post-74350456218268118992011-04-27T21:00:00.001-04:002011-04-27T21:00:02.096-04:00

In between my last couple of books, I managed to finish the Jessica Darling books with Fourth Comings and Perfect Fifths. I am alternatively thrilled to know what happened and very sad to see them go. While I was trying to find links to the books, I thumbed through some of the reviews and I'm dumbfounded that the vast majority of people didn't like either of them, and thought the first three were

jmhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01466095679853703508noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27946042.post-12388990868427768242011-04-26T19:01:00.003-04:002011-04-26T19:02:34.848-04:00

jmhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01466095679853703508noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27946042.post-29077006742750686482011-04-26T14:57:00.004-04:002011-04-26T15:06:11.909-04:00

April 26, 2008April 2009April 2010April 2011

jmhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01466095679853703508noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27946042.post-78956165732233513062011-04-24T15:39:00.000-04:002011-04-24T15:50:56.799-04:00

Happy Easter all. We had our Easter egg hunt and baskets this morning, followed by church and a few hours in the pool. Now its early dinner and hopefully sunset on the Gulf. I know that posting has been light these past few days, but still I did it. Bloggin for Jesus over 40 days and 40 nights. I have not had a laptop and only sketchy wireless access since we've been here, so hopefully the

jmhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01466095679853703508noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27946042.post-34395602362769663442011-04-23T14:43:00.003-04:002011-04-23T14:54:22.773-04:00

Florida may not seem like "the South" but we keep running into reminders that we are a long, long way from home. These include:* A LOT of Confederate flags* Even better - Confederate flag with "redneck" embroidered on it* Country music. How many times have you heard 'Proud to be an American" where you live? Point.* A much slower pace. Frustrating and kind of great too.* Actual friendly people.*

jmhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01466095679853703508noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27946042.post-54622185988975857912011-04-22T08:38:00.003-04:002011-04-22T08:55:46.318-04:00

On this most holy day, I am going to lounge on my balcony with this cool guy, read some books and swim in the pool. Maybe I will contemplate...something. Most likely not. Or maybe I will contemplate if I should go to the beach later or just stick to the lanai. Such sacrifices.

jmhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01466095679853703508noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27946042.post-14834283659713449472011-04-21T13:55:00.000-04:002011-04-21T13:57:56.148-04:00

YG and I are poolside at the Ritz. No kids. Early anniversary present. Life doesn't suck.

jmhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01466095679853703508noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27946042.post-66669365910494040282011-04-20T08:30:00.000-04:002011-04-20T09:39:13.605-04:00

A couple of books I really wanted to like. One I did. 1. South of Broad by Pat Conroy: I couldn't decide if this was terrible or not. The thing keeping me from declaring it truly terrible was the fact that I couldn't put it down -- it just kept getting more and more outrageous. I like Pat Conroy. Is he a genius writer? No. But everything of his that I've read before, I enjoyed. With this book, it

jmhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01466095679853703508noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27946042.post-18276753908350757332011-04-19T20:58:00.000-04:002011-04-19T17:27:31.282-04:00

We are in the airport, heading down to Florida for a week. Traveling with a toddler and a pre-teen while 33 weeks pregnant on a crappy airline with a stopover may not sound like your idea of a great time, but I can't wait to get the hell out of here. Hopefully in a few hours, I will be poolside at my parents' condo, letting other people fawn over these kids. When I was a kid, we went to Florida

jmhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01466095679853703508noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27946042.post-4362677919333408062011-04-18T14:19:00.000-04:002011-04-18T14:21:31.777-04:00

he pregnancy insomnia is KILLING me. I am blurry eyed and zombie-like during the day and ready to polish our floors at 3 a.m. Three dreams I managed to have last night: 1. I was running the Boston Marathon. YG and I were on Boylston Street on Saturday night and saw the finish line which is probably why it was on my mind. Also, the weather is glorious for running right now, and I

jmhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01466095679853703508noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27946042.post-33131369384912306472011-04-17T15:51:00.004-04:002011-04-17T15:55:07.978-04:00

This one is making the Internet rounds right now. It's from Tina Fey's "Bossypants," which I have to have right this second. Thanks, NN, for pointing it out. Given recent conversations in our house, this is very apt. Also, sorry Mom, for years 12-22, that first husband, for teenage angst in my 30s, etc. First, Lord: No tattoos. May neither Chinese symbol for truth nor Winnie-the-Pooh holding the

jmhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01466095679853703508noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27946042.post-63249102270322909312011-04-16T13:14:00.002-04:002011-04-16T13:43:00.625-04:00

YG and I finally got around to watching The Social Network last night after much cajoling by me. I have no idea why he didn't want to watch this movie and think it had more to do with the fact that it was one of "my movies" and not so much the subject matter. Anyway, I enjoyed it. There's been a ton written about how Mark Zuckerberg comes across as such as an asshole, but I didn't really feel

jmhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01466095679853703508noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27946042.post-70208775633978460072011-04-15T19:21:00.002-04:002011-04-15T19:28:10.772-04:00

That, Poem in Your Pocket Day, sounds a lot better than Tax Day, no? It feels like an e.e. kind of day. Not much has changed. the Cambridge ladies who live in furnished souls by E. E. Cummingsthe Cambridge ladies who live in furnished soulsare unbeautiful and have comfortable minds(also, with the church's protestant blessingsdaughters, unscented shapeless spirited)they believe in Christ and

jmhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01466095679853703508noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27946042.post-13172117763696665172011-04-14T21:21:00.002-04:002011-04-14T21:25:42.860-04:00

YG: What's so funny? JM: Do you like that someecards website? YG: What? Really?JM: Yeah, it's pretty hilarious. The signs are the funniest. YG: Blank stare. YG: Really? JM: What?YG: Some retards? That's a website? JM: E.CARDS. EEEEEEEECCCCCCARDS!YG: Oh, okay.JM: You really think there's a website called Some Retards? JM: That I would go to? JM: Don't answer that.

jmhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01466095679853703508noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27946042.post-20434593899251985612011-04-14T20:49:00.003-04:002011-04-14T21:21:38.188-04:00

I listened to Tina Fey's interview yesterday on Fresh Air, and I laughed so hard I almost peed my pants. Then I read the Curtis Sittenfield column in the New York Times and the Motherlode blog post, both talking about how Fey interprets the question, "How do you juggle it all?" as incredibly rude. Comments were as expected, ranging from the "she's rich, how dare she" and "people that outsource

jmhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01466095679853703508noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27946042.post-22309127585447921252011-04-13T18:39:00.002-04:002011-04-13T18:45:06.156-04:00

Or fifteen random memories: * I do not have a lot of memories of my time before siblings, and the two that I do have involve pooping or peeing my pants. In the first, I had a flowered bikini bathing suit and we were in Long Island and I really had to poop. The one bathroom was being used, and I remember doing the dance in my grandmother’s bedroom right outside the bathroom, begging to be let in

jmhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01466095679853703508noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27946042.post-89597874335209787832011-04-12T18:33:00.002-04:002011-04-12T18:46:15.798-04:00

YG and I bought Zygote a toddler bed. She's probably a little young to start sleeping in a bed, but we don't have room for two cribs and we really are trying to stay as decluttered as possible in our small space. When we put the bed together and put all the bedding on a few weeks ago, she immediately began climbing and jumping up and down, yelling "wheeeee!" But when we tried to get her to take a

jmhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01466095679853703508noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27946042.post-2521915878471927452011-04-11T19:27:00.002-04:002011-04-11T19:39:25.666-04:00

My little brother is turning 30 this week which makes me feel old. Nirvana's 1991 album Nevermind celebrates its 20th anniversary this September, which makes me feel old on a number of different levels. I was a little kid when my brother was born, but sometimes I still feel like the same person I was when Nirvana broke big. And twenty years have passed. Whoa, scary. Free association or my

jmhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01466095679853703508noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27946042.post-65943024055515438812011-04-10T15:29:00.002-04:002011-04-10T15:57:24.611-04:00

Medicinal Marzipan is hosting this month's series of Self-Discovery Word by Word. The idea is to get the blogging community focused on self-discovery via one word, and this month's word is change. Besides the fact that "self-discovery" makes me think of Birkenstocks and gauzy skirts and raw foods, I like this idea. As I mentioned earlier, "transition" is the focus of Lent this year, and I have

jmhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01466095679853703508noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27946042.post-64901294396178062532011-04-09T20:07:00.003-04:002011-04-09T20:22:38.517-04:00

One month ago, I started blogging every day. It wasn't really a conscious decision. I didn't set out to blog every day for Lent or anything similar that would set me up for failure. I just started and kept doing it. I did a similar journal writing exercise last year and kept it up for a good three months. Its demise coincided with my exile from the nursing/pumping room at work. Without the

jmhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01466095679853703508noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27946042.post-35349661657851880792011-04-08T11:05:00.003-04:002011-04-08T11:36:17.637-04:00

Count down to shut down! Democrats and Republicans are still negotiating over the federal budget, and the things that are holding them up now are "social issues." According to the New York Times, Republican demands include: No federal financing for Planned Parenthood because it performs abortions. Instead, state administration of federal family planning funds, which means that Republican

jmhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01466095679853703508noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27946042.post-31924080928130591502011-04-07T23:48:00.002-04:002011-04-08T00:02:23.921-04:00

Sometimes I remember exactly why I love living here so much. First, I went to a reading at Harvard Bookstore. Marc Freedman was discussing his newest book, The Big Shift: Navigating the New Stage Beyond Mid-Life. I don't think (or at least I don't think I'm old enough to be in) the target audience for a book about moving through the middle stage of life, but YG had actually been interviewed for

jmhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01466095679853703508noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27946042.post-34989401307700281252011-04-06T20:37:00.001-04:002011-04-06T20:39:27.046-04:00

I don’t write about work. Or where I work and what my day-to-day job entails. Really, I don’t want to be dooced, and um, it isn’t interesting enough to justify blog posts. If you have been reading long enough, you know that I kind of fell into my career and that I am totally at a loss for what I want to do next. I don’t love what I do, but I’ve justified doing it because of the tradeoffs:·

jmhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01466095679853703508noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27946042.post-89378166192359853922011-04-05T20:21:00.002-04:002011-04-05T20:42:36.358-04:00

Two things:1. I was upset about giving up the armoire because it's followed me and my grandparents around for so long. I was out the morning the buyer came to pick it up, but YG assured me that it was a very nice older woman who was very excited to have it. When they were moving it, the woman and her helper removed the drawers and left behind a couple of random tags and receipts that were still

jmhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01466095679853703508noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27946042.post-89335906255138450602011-04-04T19:57:00.002-04:002011-04-04T19:59:56.880-04:00

Despite the fact that this song always makes me think of the recital scene in Mean Girls, this made me tear up a little. Don't judge. I can still kick your ass.

jmhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01466095679853703508noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27946042.post-15196767578100297132011-04-03T20:51:00.002-04:002011-04-03T20:54:14.284-04:00

My friend, SKB, is writing for The Thought Cannon. You should go like her stuff. Like right now.

jmhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01466095679853703508noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27946042.post-54487720556037776282011-04-03T20:42:00.002-04:002011-04-03T20:48:14.297-04:00

Every time you go to a funeral, you hear Psalm 23. Even if you're not religious, you have probably heard "The LORD is my shepherd; I shall not want...Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil: for thou art with me; thy rod and thy staff they comfort me." It's also in a lot of action movies. I heard this version today, a Japanese translation from 1969. The

jmhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01466095679853703508noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27946042.post-36905572077822279752011-04-02T16:49:00.005-04:002011-04-02T19:41:14.881-04:00

Last night we went to see Annie at the MG's school. She was on stage crew. It was pretty much exactly what you would expect out of a middle school musical, but thankfully, they had a music track and not an "orchestra" full of squeaking clarinets. Zygote sat, transfixed, for most of the time which made it a pretty enjoyable evening for everyone. Random musical memories:* I was obsessed with Annie

jmhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01466095679853703508noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27946042.post-27973581587737126902011-04-01T14:08:00.002-04:002011-04-01T14:35:25.959-04:00

Chris Jordan wrote another pretty great post over at AlphaMom, Mothering Meltdowns, Keep Them To Yourself. She starts off by talking about not being her children's friend (something that I FULLY support), but then moves into talking about how the trend in the blogosphere is to share 'bad mommy' stories, to only talk about the bad parts of parenting. Guilty. And it's not just on the blog -- the '

jmhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01466095679853703508noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27946042.post-7676872371405805932011-03-31T16:05:00.003-04:002011-03-31T16:22:32.278-04:00

YG makes fun of me for getting really attached to my things like furniture and clothing, even when some (okay, most) of it is not very good stuff. Prior to YG, almost all of my furniture was hand-me-down stuff with the exception of a futon I bought after college and a couch that my ex-husband and I bought together, or he bought, and I was all, "oh, hey, you bought a couch." I have no real eye for

jmhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01466095679853703508noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27946042.post-87728642664274583052011-03-30T20:28:00.002-04:002011-03-30T20:30:37.126-04:00

And I can't even talk about it yet. Excuse me for a bit while I go feel sorry for myself and work a little bit more because I love it so much.

jmhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01466095679853703508noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27946042.post-3114048567658863782011-03-29T19:48:00.002-04:002011-03-29T20:10:18.907-04:00

Boston.com ran an article today about whether men or women stay home with their sick children. I love these kinds of articles because I get to experience the whole mountain range of my emotions. I start off relating. It's a problem a lot of working parents deal with. YG and I often have the schedule discussion when daycare is closed and we’re frantically whipping through our calendars trying to

jmhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01466095679853703508noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27946042.post-7017449087261834392011-03-28T20:04:00.002-04:002011-03-28T20:13:07.670-04:00

My friend, SKB, is making these hilarious caricatures of her friends. This is mine. Awesome because: * SKB is awesome.* I really did say "how about I beat your ass?" to someone on the T, but in my defense, it was TOTALLY JUSTIFIED. Really. * I have that blue dress. SKB has it in purple. Old Navy clearance yo.* I really do get that big ol' line of cleavage due to Old Navy clearance being a wee bit

jmhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01466095679853703508noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27946042.post-91349519240238146722011-03-27T21:17:00.002-04:002011-03-27T21:22:20.795-04:00

I live for the Yankees. YG loves the Red Sox. Zygote is being raised in the Yankee tradition. The MG wears a pink Red Sox cap. Right now we are somewhat equal. I say somewhat because you try living in Boston as a Yankee fan. Z2 is going to break the tie...OR Z2 gets to be independent. We're thinking of doing a Facebook poll to help him or her choose. I wanted to do a Top 5 choices, but YG thinks

jmhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01466095679853703508noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27946042.post-56701721515985842292011-03-26T22:37:00.003-04:002011-03-26T22:45:22.576-04:00

We have a night away! My brother and sister are up babysitting Zygote while YG and I hang by the pool at the Hilton, and eat at snooty places on Newbury Street. sweet!

jmhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01466095679853703508noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27946042.post-128442246724211782011-03-25T13:22:00.002-04:002011-03-25T13:41:45.389-04:00

Zygote and I went grocery shopping this morning to get out of the house and to prepare for a houseful of weekend guests. I like to talk to her when we're out and out, describing different things, in an effort to get her to start talking more. I was standing on my tippy toes trying to get some applesauce out of the far corner of a shelf, blathering on about high fructrose corn syrup, when I heard

jmhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01466095679853703508noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27946042.post-24211822105333010552011-03-24T19:23:00.002-04:002011-03-24T19:29:53.270-04:00

I read this post over at AlphaMom about Lent and forgiving yourself, and I wanted to come up with something equally as forgiving, but tonight, I am forgiving myself for not really wanting to write. I want to just sit on the couch and eat pie and read some more Jessica Darling novels and watch t.v. So I'll just steal her list because I kind of love them:I forgive myself for not being a cook and

jmhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01466095679853703508noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27946042.post-45316622020120026242011-03-23T18:50:00.001-04:002011-03-23T18:52:50.087-04:00

Most of you know that I am not a big fan of all the hoopla about our national obesity “crisis.” Not because I don’t think people are getting heavier and not because I don’t think there are health risks associated with being very overweight. Mostly because all of the conversations around this “crisis” seem to always devolve into ‘fat people are lazy’ discussions and/or ‘if we could only educate

jmhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01466095679853703508noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27946042.post-27209566121903958402011-03-22T20:20:00.002-04:002011-03-22T20:24:50.259-04:00

YG and I recently started talking to people in our neighborhood about preschools. And by “talking to,” I mean absentmindedly replying to the question, “You haven’t started thinking about preschools YET?” Apparently, there is a lot to learn about preschools. Stuff that I didn’t really bother to pay attention to since Zygote is 1.9 and won’t be entering preschool until 2.9. I thought we had time.

jmhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01466095679853703508noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27946042.post-37818834638642912482011-03-21T17:48:00.001-04:002011-03-21T17:50:37.891-04:00

Sometimes the small people do pay attention. The MG: Are [My Brother and brother’s boyfriend*] going to get married? JM: Um, I don’t know. Maybe. [Launch standard feminist discourse about how not everybody wants to get married, sometimes unequal institution, blah blah. Subtext being ‘You will not marry some couch hogging n’er do well who wants you to work extra shifts at Dunkin Donuts to support

jmhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01466095679853703508noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27946042.post-64193042279528885462011-03-21T07:15:00.001-04:002011-03-21T07:15:41.030-04:00

Atheist pet watchers. You've committed your life to Jesus. You know you're saved. But when the Rapture comes what's to become of your loving pets who are left behind? Eternal Earth-Bound Pets takes that burden off your mind. Awesome. I confess too that the first time I saw a bumper sticker that read, "In case of rapture, this car will be unmanned," I thought it was some weird, cool sex thing.

jmhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01466095679853703508noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27946042.post-16881792204191153852011-03-20T14:29:00.002-04:002011-03-20T14:59:15.020-04:00

"Ultimately, we have just one moral duty: to reclaim large areas of peace in ourselves, more and more peace, and to reflect it towards others. And the more peace there is in us, the more peace there will be in our troubled world." — Etty HillesumI heard that quote today and felt guilty that I hadn't heard of Etty Hillesum. Esther "Etty" Hillesum was a young Jewish woman whose letters and diaries

jmhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01466095679853703508noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27946042.post-64414927415256485892011-03-19T20:33:00.002-04:002011-03-19T20:47:22.278-04:00

"Change is a situational shift. Transition is the process of letting go of the way things used to be and then taking hold of the way they subsequently become." -- William Bridges. I spent the day on Cape Cod for my second annual Women's Retreat. This year's theme was 'The Way of Transition' and our transitions ran the gamut from becoming parents, losing parents, finding new work, retiring, living

jmhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01466095679853703508noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27946042.post-39977430082175809142011-03-18T18:24:00.002-04:002011-03-18T18:27:17.382-04:00

1. New haircut2. Ice cream lunch outside3. Bookstore browsing4. Wax5. Reading in the sun in Copley Square6. Shoe shopping7. Grocery shopping (okay, that always sucks, but it is much more enjoyable sans child)8. Finding out I passed my glucose testGood times, good times.

jmhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01466095679853703508noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27946042.post-77973996043391395662011-03-17T14:50:00.001-04:002011-03-17T14:52:33.118-04:00

And the drunks are already out in full green regalia. I am a little bit jealous.

jmhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01466095679853703508noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27946042.post-53445843590998185262011-03-16T20:05:00.001-04:002011-03-16T20:08:17.856-04:00

You know that scene in High Fidelity where Rob's girlfriend discovers his list of Top Five Dream Jobs? That one spoke to me more than any of his other lists in the movie because I can definitely relate to having dream jobs that would require either a trust fund, learning some new skills entirely and/or would require a time machine. Rob's Five Dream Jobs NME journalist, 1976-1979Producer, Atlantic

jmhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01466095679853703508noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27946042.post-50220220877583083962011-03-15T17:50:00.001-04:002011-03-15T17:53:05.338-04:00

I was reading The Daily Beast’s coverage of its Women in the World Summit, and I found coverage of a panel on women and negotiations. There was some reiteration of the facts that while women are good negotiators, we are often crap at negotiating for ourselves. The one man on the panel, John Donahoe, president and CEO of eBay, shared this bit: “Donahoe told a story where his wife was clerking for

jmhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01466095679853703508noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27946042.post-49728545581959358592011-03-14T20:01:00.000-04:002011-03-14T20:03:42.993-04:00

I read this article in Salon and shuddered nervously, mainly because it speaks to a lot of the big fears that I am grappling with right now.“I had inadvertently become part of an opt-out revolution much different than the one writer Lisa Belkin described in an article for the New York Times Magazine in 2003. In that revolution, upper-middle-class, Type A women opted out of their MBA-fueled

jmhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01466095679853703508noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27946042.post-3117661976280039222011-03-13T16:34:00.002-04:002011-03-13T16:51:40.576-04:00

I am sick. Not my usual sick in the head, but actually sick. I had a really bad cold that flattened me before I left for Conference, and then caught something on the way back that will just not leave. I've got bronchitis. I've got a sinus infection. Because of Z2, I can't take much, so it's all about staying hydrated which means that I am up to pee almost every single hour. End result: exhausted,

jmhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01466095679853703508noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27946042.post-42899233151606405532011-03-12T18:01:00.003-05:002011-03-12T18:03:02.291-05:00

I love this kid. LOVE, LOVE, LOVE. The comments on this and the CNN feed make me sad -- calling a 5 year old kid a bitch for being independent is just....well, I guess, expected.

jmhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01466095679853703508noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27946042.post-27360586293412308032011-03-11T16:05:00.002-05:002011-03-11T16:09:56.406-05:00

The footage from Japan is horrifying. I have an unnatural fear of earthquakes. Drowning too. A coworker was on a plane on the tarmac when everything hit. There's really nothing to say other than I am thinking of all of those people and hoping/praying for miracle rescues.

jmhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01466095679853703508noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27946042.post-63155397059951099522011-03-11T15:51:00.002-05:002011-03-11T16:04:47.590-05:00

When I tell people that I don't work on Fridays, I usually get a variety of responses ranging from "how cool" or "everyone needs an errand day" to the snarkier eye-rolling, "well, that must be niiiice." The people delivering this response are usually white collar workers who have never done a lick of menial labor, but my Fridays "off" (in quotes because um, I don't get PAID) somehow make them

jmhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01466095679853703508noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27946042.post-22244463234992337332011-03-10T10:24:00.001-05:002011-03-10T10:24:55.374-05:00

There are no many things not to like about pregnancy. You go through all this drama trying to even get pregnant and then your body rewards you with some truly weird, puberty-like stuff. That being said, I have enjoyed both of these pregnancies. I’ve been healthy and haven’t had a lot of nausea or other complications, and I can live with swollen feet for a few months if it means that I can pretty

jmhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01466095679853703508noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27946042.post-57624135873540989722011-03-09T18:29:00.002-05:002011-03-09T18:34:30.352-05:00

Remember this? That was the year I was going to blog about being grateful for something every day during Lent. It was pre-Zygote, so I should have been able to get it done. I’m amazed how truly narcissistic I am sometimes – being able to translate "join Jesus” into “the world really wants to hear about my love of America’s Next Top Model EVERY DAY.” Try as I may to be a more spiritually grounded

jmhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01466095679853703508noreply@blogger.com0