Monday, September 28, 2009
home schooling, not just for fundamentalists
the baron read this article this morning, and was surprised to find it very persuasive. the baron hasn't been made a home-schooling convert, but isn't nice to know that there are ways out of the box?
Wednesday, September 23, 2009
a brief interlude (die, morning sickness, die!)
the baron has been thinking about the next part of her story - the pregnancy story - but frequently finds herself unable to complete her thoughts. she wants to write about the process of having a baby (complicated by her medical history), about this one more adventure she and the husband will undertake.
but, reader?
the baron is sick. so sick, in fact, that she white-knuckles it through most days, barely making it into the early afternoon before having to leave work for home. it's the morning sickness.
(an aside: please, spare the baron any advice you have about remedies for morning sickness, for she has tried them all. ginger pills, ginger tea, ginger ale, 7-up, bland foods, zofran, lemon slices, sea sickness bands, laying down, excercise... all of it amounts to nothing. well, nothing but the same nausea.)
the baron has never, really, been one to think about food. she's vegetarian, and she likes organic things on principle, so there's been that aspect to her dining habits for the last 10 years or so, but beyond that... she pretty much has always eaten when and what she wanted.
but.
for the past 6 weeks, the baron has been obsessed about food. OBSESSED. she thinks about it all the time, from the moment she wakes up to about 30 minutes before she falls asleep. what to eat, and when did she last eat, and does she have at hand what she wants to eat? and will this thing that she's eating stay down? and if it doesn't what will she eat instead?
she unable to eat the same thing more than two days in a row, which means that, reader? if you're talking to her, it might appear that she's listening, but really she's thinking about something new to eat. at first it was bagels with cream cheese, then grilled cheese sandwiches, then edamame, then sourdough bread toasted with butter, then chicken wings, then top ramen, then grape nuts cereal, then corn pops, then corn flakes, then honey combs, then smoothies, then soup from a can. now she's onto microwave dinners - enchiladas turned out to be a disaster, so she's trying pasta with cream sauce. also, last night she had a turkey and swiss cheese sandwich on white bread, with mustard. notice, please, the total absence of fruits and vegetables. such is the joy of pregnancy.
there are times, though, when nothing sounds good, when the baron sits in her office or lays in her bed and tries her best to imagine something to eat, because reader? the only thing worse than the nausea is being hungry AND nauseous at the same time. while the nausea does occasionally lead to actually throwing up, hungry AND nauseous guarantees that the baron will keel over the toilet (or a sink, or her office trash can, or whatever plastic bag is handy, or - this one unfortunate time - the husband's tropicals planting bed) and vomit up bile.
this is tricky, beacuse it means that the baron can never let herself get hungry. which means that she has to eat every 90 minutes or so. which means that every 90 minutes, she's faced with the difficult task of imagining what, GOOD GOD WHAT, to eat.
she can barely function throughout the day, between thinking of eating, eating and slamming shut her office door to express whatever she's just eaten into the trash can. she can barely sit through meetings without having to hunker down and exhale deeply through her mouth to beat back the nausea rising up her esophagus. she can barely think of what to write here; most days she doesn't even remember that she has a blog, such is the joy of pregnancy.
however, she's trying. to write. so be patient, and bear with her.
but, reader?
the baron is sick. so sick, in fact, that she white-knuckles it through most days, barely making it into the early afternoon before having to leave work for home. it's the morning sickness.
(an aside: please, spare the baron any advice you have about remedies for morning sickness, for she has tried them all. ginger pills, ginger tea, ginger ale, 7-up, bland foods, zofran, lemon slices, sea sickness bands, laying down, excercise... all of it amounts to nothing. well, nothing but the same nausea.)
the baron has never, really, been one to think about food. she's vegetarian, and she likes organic things on principle, so there's been that aspect to her dining habits for the last 10 years or so, but beyond that... she pretty much has always eaten when and what she wanted.
but.
for the past 6 weeks, the baron has been obsessed about food. OBSESSED. she thinks about it all the time, from the moment she wakes up to about 30 minutes before she falls asleep. what to eat, and when did she last eat, and does she have at hand what she wants to eat? and will this thing that she's eating stay down? and if it doesn't what will she eat instead?
she unable to eat the same thing more than two days in a row, which means that, reader? if you're talking to her, it might appear that she's listening, but really she's thinking about something new to eat. at first it was bagels with cream cheese, then grilled cheese sandwiches, then edamame, then sourdough bread toasted with butter, then chicken wings, then top ramen, then grape nuts cereal, then corn pops, then corn flakes, then honey combs, then smoothies, then soup from a can. now she's onto microwave dinners - enchiladas turned out to be a disaster, so she's trying pasta with cream sauce. also, last night she had a turkey and swiss cheese sandwich on white bread, with mustard. notice, please, the total absence of fruits and vegetables. such is the joy of pregnancy.
there are times, though, when nothing sounds good, when the baron sits in her office or lays in her bed and tries her best to imagine something to eat, because reader? the only thing worse than the nausea is being hungry AND nauseous at the same time. while the nausea does occasionally lead to actually throwing up, hungry AND nauseous guarantees that the baron will keel over the toilet (or a sink, or her office trash can, or whatever plastic bag is handy, or - this one unfortunate time - the husband's tropicals planting bed) and vomit up bile.
this is tricky, beacuse it means that the baron can never let herself get hungry. which means that she has to eat every 90 minutes or so. which means that every 90 minutes, she's faced with the difficult task of imagining what, GOOD GOD WHAT, to eat.
she can barely function throughout the day, between thinking of eating, eating and slamming shut her office door to express whatever she's just eaten into the trash can. she can barely sit through meetings without having to hunker down and exhale deeply through her mouth to beat back the nausea rising up her esophagus. she can barely think of what to write here; most days she doesn't even remember that she has a blog, such is the joy of pregnancy.
however, she's trying. to write. so be patient, and bear with her.
Tuesday, September 15, 2009
abrupt reversal of a 30 year certainty, or, part one of what will become a very long story
reader, the baron knows she's been scarce around these parts lately. the end of summer always makes her feel a little 'meh', and, um, also she's having terrible, terrible morning sickness. because, oh, yes, she's pregnant.
for those of you who know the baron and the husband, you will immediately note that this seems an abrupt reversal of their previous plan, the one that involved lots of dogs and no children? indeed, when first they met, it seemed serendipitous that neither the baron nor the husband wanted children. this was something they established very early on in their relationship, something that was dispensed with thusly:
"me? kids? no thanks."
"me too. my family's got too many of them anyway."
"really? great. moving on... i'm actually not *that* into fugazi."
**********
that conversation (or one very similar to it) was a very long time ago, almost 9 years now, and in those intervening years, the baron and the husband have had some adventures - madcap and otherwise.
for instance, just before they moved to san francisco:
"i've always wanted to live in san francisco."
"really? it's kind of a hippy town. makes me think of wool socks and birkenstocks, worn together."
"..."
"ok. let's go."
and then, just before they moved to phoenix:
"we'll never be able to afford a house in san francisco. or, really, even a 400 square foot studio apartment."
"not until that earthquake comes and flattens the housing market, probably not."
"let's move, get a mortgage, and pay equity instead of rent."
"ok. where?"
"dunno. somewhere relatively close to my mom so she can dogsit."
"well, california is most likely out, even inland southern california."
"arizona? phoenix?"
"ok. do this soon?"
"ok. think we can fit in house hunting before we leave for greece?"
"hm. find a house in one weekend....? sure."
and just before the husband moved to new orleans:
"i've been offered a job in new orleans. i think i'll take the dogs and move into the w in the french quarter until i can find a rental house."
"ok. meet you there?"
"ok."
and 6 weeks later, just before taking an alternate job in washington dc:
"the husband, i am having the worst friday afternoon ever! my car broke down on the 60 freeway. at 5 pm. and my cell phone is about to die. and i've been waiting for the tow truck forever. and it's so hot!"
"i'm sorry your car broke down. i was assaulted by a large group of baseball-bat wielding youths in the marigny. in broad daylight. i am currently giving my statement to the police. i am not having a good friday either. can i call you back?"
**********
last november, the baron was channel surfing, looking specifically for stacy london and clinton kelly (because, yes, the baron is a fan of 'what not to wear'). instead, on the channel where these two and their sadly dressed prey would normally appear, the baron found, sigh, 'jon and kate plus 8'. this was the baron's first exposure to this show and family, and at first, she marvelled at the sheer number of children. then, she marvelled at the mouth on the wife, because really? what husband wants to be spoken to like that? then, as her attention was waning and she was ready to surf the channels elsewhere, the couple sat down for an interview and the baron heard, "i'm only 32, and i have 8 kids..."
the baron thought, "what? i'm only 31, and i have no kids!", then said, "the husband, you're 36 and you have no kids!"
the husband was startled by this.
**********
the baron wasn't REALLY inspired to have a child by 'jon and kate plus 8', but it did get her mind working.
she thought about all the times the husband would say, "man, my kid would be in so much trouble all the time!" (to which the baron would respond, "with whom will you be having this child? because my child will be in the library. behaving."), or "do you ever think about what our baby might look like?", or "man, my kid will totally skateboard! and play the drums! and be curious about everything!" she thought about all the times she had considered what their child might actually be like; that, if she were very, very lucky, her child would be very much like the husband.
it started to seem like, for a couple of people who had long since decided against children, they were spending a fair amount of time imagining what their family of three bipeds might look like. and that realization, coupled with the fact of the baron's age (she was, last november, 31), and the husband's age (he was, last november, 36), got her thinking.
**********
a series of tense conversations followed before they made the excellent choice to drop the matter entirely until after christmas: they would retreat to their corners and reconvene later to discuss.
in the end, it came down to this:
one would reason, we have a good life.
true, the other would say, but what if? do we want to be in our 50s and full of regret? who can ever reconcile a baby-shaped hole in their heart?
sometime around start of january, the husband said, "let's try. it'll be fun, one more adventure for us. we'll just set aside some time, and if it works, it works, and if it doesn't, well, that's that."
for those of you who know the baron and the husband, you will immediately note that this seems an abrupt reversal of their previous plan, the one that involved lots of dogs and no children? indeed, when first they met, it seemed serendipitous that neither the baron nor the husband wanted children. this was something they established very early on in their relationship, something that was dispensed with thusly:
"me? kids? no thanks."
"me too. my family's got too many of them anyway."
"really? great. moving on... i'm actually not *that* into fugazi."
**********
that conversation (or one very similar to it) was a very long time ago, almost 9 years now, and in those intervening years, the baron and the husband have had some adventures - madcap and otherwise.
for instance, just before they moved to san francisco:
"i've always wanted to live in san francisco."
"really? it's kind of a hippy town. makes me think of wool socks and birkenstocks, worn together."
"..."
"ok. let's go."
and then, just before they moved to phoenix:
"we'll never be able to afford a house in san francisco. or, really, even a 400 square foot studio apartment."
"not until that earthquake comes and flattens the housing market, probably not."
"let's move, get a mortgage, and pay equity instead of rent."
"ok. where?"
"dunno. somewhere relatively close to my mom so she can dogsit."
"well, california is most likely out, even inland southern california."
"arizona? phoenix?"
"ok. do this soon?"
"ok. think we can fit in house hunting before we leave for greece?"
"hm. find a house in one weekend....? sure."
and just before the husband moved to new orleans:
"i've been offered a job in new orleans. i think i'll take the dogs and move into the w in the french quarter until i can find a rental house."
"ok. meet you there?"
"ok."
and 6 weeks later, just before taking an alternate job in washington dc:
"the husband, i am having the worst friday afternoon ever! my car broke down on the 60 freeway. at 5 pm. and my cell phone is about to die. and i've been waiting for the tow truck forever. and it's so hot!"
"i'm sorry your car broke down. i was assaulted by a large group of baseball-bat wielding youths in the marigny. in broad daylight. i am currently giving my statement to the police. i am not having a good friday either. can i call you back?"
**********
last november, the baron was channel surfing, looking specifically for stacy london and clinton kelly (because, yes, the baron is a fan of 'what not to wear'). instead, on the channel where these two and their sadly dressed prey would normally appear, the baron found, sigh, 'jon and kate plus 8'. this was the baron's first exposure to this show and family, and at first, she marvelled at the sheer number of children. then, she marvelled at the mouth on the wife, because really? what husband wants to be spoken to like that? then, as her attention was waning and she was ready to surf the channels elsewhere, the couple sat down for an interview and the baron heard, "i'm only 32, and i have 8 kids..."
the baron thought, "what? i'm only 31, and i have no kids!", then said, "the husband, you're 36 and you have no kids!"
the husband was startled by this.
**********
the baron wasn't REALLY inspired to have a child by 'jon and kate plus 8', but it did get her mind working.
she thought about all the times the husband would say, "man, my kid would be in so much trouble all the time!" (to which the baron would respond, "with whom will you be having this child? because my child will be in the library. behaving."), or "do you ever think about what our baby might look like?", or "man, my kid will totally skateboard! and play the drums! and be curious about everything!" she thought about all the times she had considered what their child might actually be like; that, if she were very, very lucky, her child would be very much like the husband.
it started to seem like, for a couple of people who had long since decided against children, they were spending a fair amount of time imagining what their family of three bipeds might look like. and that realization, coupled with the fact of the baron's age (she was, last november, 31), and the husband's age (he was, last november, 36), got her thinking.
**********
a series of tense conversations followed before they made the excellent choice to drop the matter entirely until after christmas: they would retreat to their corners and reconvene later to discuss.
in the end, it came down to this:
one would reason, we have a good life.
true, the other would say, but what if? do we want to be in our 50s and full of regret? who can ever reconcile a baby-shaped hole in their heart?
sometime around start of january, the husband said, "let's try. it'll be fun, one more adventure for us. we'll just set aside some time, and if it works, it works, and if it doesn't, well, that's that."
Tuesday, September 8, 2009
monday conversation
-if we have a baby, there'll be just three of-... i mean, just eight of us.
-you mean, just the whole fucking lot of us? that should be the name of our sitcom.
-you mean, just the whole fucking lot of us? that should be the name of our sitcom.
Friday, September 4, 2009
the best thing...
...is when someone you respect (even from afar) keeps proving himself or herself worthy of your admiration. to wit, the baron loves neil gaiman.
Tuesday, September 1, 2009
caroline is a lovely name
-what do you think about caroline?
-i like it. oh, what about rosamund?
-ack. no.
-what makes you think of caroline?
-this song, it's called 'caroline says' by lou reed. it's about a girl who commits suicide.
-that's really nice. none of our children will be named after lou reed songs... it's like giving them a ticket to heroin addiction right from the start.
-i like it. oh, what about rosamund?
-ack. no.
-what makes you think of caroline?
-this song, it's called 'caroline says' by lou reed. it's about a girl who commits suicide.
-that's really nice. none of our children will be named after lou reed songs... it's like giving them a ticket to heroin addiction right from the start.
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