Long time no type, eh?
All's well here; (at the extreme risk of grossing you out) my cervix is still in lock-down mode. Gozer isn't going anywhere anytime soon, which is good because both my doula and my mother are going to be out of town this weekend!
* ~ * ~ * ~ *
Two weeks ago, my family hosted a couples baby shower, where most everyone wore a Halloween costume of some sort. Hours before Mr. Hubby and I were going to leave our house, we told our dog Suki "car ride to Grandma and Grandpa's house for party".
BIG MISTAKE
Suki immediately trotted over to her collar and leash, and upon, hearing "no, wait" she went to her window perch and looked outside, presumably to see if Grandma and Grandpa were in the driveway. Fast forward half an hour to Mr. Hubby being in one bathtub and me in the other - Suki barged in each bathroom multiple times to give us exasperated sighs, and ultimately settled on wandering the hallway whimpering and crying. As cruel as this may seem, listening to a beagle/Japanese chin pout is actually very funny. Perhaps we could have gotten away with not immediately delivering on the promise of a car ride, or a party, but adding Grandma and Grandpa was going too far.
When we arrived, we decorated the house in black, orange, pink, and light blue, which may sound hideous but is fantastic for a Halloween-themed shower. True to family form, it was a fantastic party; a fire pit in the backyard complete with hot dogs and marshmallows, beer and wine for the guests (I rocked the root beer), an ecstatic Suki-pup wandering around off leash (we were confident she wouldn't wander far from a party involving food-mooching opportunities), and relaxed conversation.
My smartie-pants brother-in-law modified the "guess the baby food" game by adding copious amounts of food coloring to the jars - purple infant mac&cheese is more disgusting than words can describe.
Absolutely everyone we invited at least stopped by for as long as their schedule (or tired toddler) would allow. None of the men present (other than Mr. Hubby) had ever attended a baby shower before, and I was especially glad to demonstrate that there is no need for baby showers to be stuffy, boring-as-hell affairs.
That evening, Mr. Hubby returned home so he could get to work early the next morning. My sister, brother-in-law, Suki, and I decided to spend the night at my parent's house - all of us were too tired to consider driving over an hour to get back to my house. Given the hissy-fit that Suki threw earlier, I should not have been surprised that I was rejected at bedtime; she chose to sleep between my parents - diagonally, because they were either too naive or too charmed to stop her from hogging the bed.
The best part of the past two weeks is that I was able to spend two days with my sister Alie and my brother-in-law. As if throwing a shower wasn't enough, the woman helped me clean my fish tank! And it was her idea! Talk about love.
* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *
Last Friday, a friend of mine from work hosted an office baby shower for me (yes I've had _three_ total). It was sparsely attended, but I had a very good time regardless. I think/hope the problem was that we gave people paper invitations in their mailboxes, rather than emailing them. I knew that a few people had schedule conflicts that afternoon, but did expect more than three people (out of 12 invited) to show (6 attendees total, counting me, the hostess and her adorable 3 year old son). I did receive a very apologetic email and gift from a gal who thought the party was this Friday, a explanation and gift from a gal who had an appointment at the same time, and a apologetic explanation from a friend of mine who has a very young child (she's completely not allowed to gift anything to me since I've already received an absolute glut of gently-used baby supplies from her).
I'm not writing about this to pout, but rather to point out how fantastic pregnancy hormones have been to me lately: under normal circumstances, I would probably feel stood up, unliked, ignored, whatever - but instead, I simply don't give a crap. I do feel bad for the hostess who put time, money, and effort into throwing a party for a bigger group, but as it turned out, I got to really visit with everyone there and had fantastic leftovers to take home that evening.
* ~ * ~ * ~ *
On Saturday, Mr. Hubby and I go to be stats-takers for my derby girls. This was the first home bout I have attended without being the volunteer coordinator. I thought that I would feel disconnected, or less "important" to the bout production, but I *loved* every minute of it. Three 20 minute periods go by in a blink when you're keeping track of who is on the floor and what they're doing at any moment. My teammates played a phenomenal game, and lost by two points, which is a ridiculously close margin for roller derby. I'm convinced that they would have won if there were a few more minutes left on the clock.
* ~ * ~ * ~ *
These days, besides continuing to work full-time, I've been keeping myself very busy getting ready for the baby to arrive. I visited a lactation consultant today and bought new parts for a gifted (used) breast pump. Yesterday, I started packing my hospital bags, and my project for this weekend is to make sure I've got all the baby toiletries/medicines/gear I need so I don't have to send people out on errands once we're home from the hospital. (Okay, slightly fewer errands . . .)
And, I kid you not, at this moment I'm getting fantastic mommy practice:
as I type this, my friend's 5.5 month old is draped over me, fast asleep. What particularly cracks me up, is that she has to straddle my belly in such a way that her foot visibly moves when my baby delivers a good kick.
Showing posts with label roller derby. Show all posts
Showing posts with label roller derby. Show all posts
Thursday, October 25, 2007
Tuesday, September 25, 2007
We must prepare for the coming of Gozer
My unborn child has a derby name already: "Gozer the Destructor".
I actually chose that name for myself, and was briefly registered under that name, but later decided that the reference was a bit too obsuse for the general public, and I wasn't sure how I felt about being called "Gozer" on a regular basis.
For anyone still not in on the joke:
I actually chose that name for myself, and was briefly registered under that name, but later decided that the reference was a bit too obsuse for the general public, and I wasn't sure how I felt about being called "Gozer" on a regular basis.
For anyone still not in on the joke:
"Gozer the Traveller; he will come in one of the pre-chosen forms. During the rectification of the Vuldronaii, the Traveller came as a large and moving Torb. Then, during the third reconciliation of the last of the Meketrex Supplicants, they chose a new form for him -- that of a Giant Sloar! Many Shubs and Zuuls knew what it was to be roasted in the depths of the Sloar that day I can tell you!"
In my warped little mind, I thought it would be very funny for Gozer to take on the form of a badass roller derby girl.
Just a few weeks after taking on a new name, I found myself several weeks pregnant, and it was decided that this upcoming baby indeed WAS "Gozer the Destructor", in that he/she destroyed my derby season.
Anyway, Gozer attended his/her third in-utero bout this weekend, and is making quite the bulgy appearance as I do my damnest to get one of my gals ready to get back out onto the floor and knock some bitches down.
Compare that to how I looked on March 24th, the day I found out about Gozer's imminent arrival. (I'm in the red shirt, showing off a flat belly).
ANYWAY - only 7 weeks to go! I am (sadly) done volunteering for my derby league's bout production committee so I can concentrate on getting things squared away at home and at work before baby arrives. So much to do, so little time . . . but I keep reminding myself that I'm a box of preemie diapers away from "just fine" if baby decides to make an early appearance.
Monday, September 17, 2007
horomonal much?
Saturday afternoon - I was happily chatting away while on a van ride, describing my relationship with my dog Suki: "I think one of the reasons [Mr. Hubby] and I are so crazy about Suki is that she seems to be a good representation of our collective personality: slightly spazzy, incredibly optimistic, moderately well behaved, and fun to be around".
I still consider that to be true, but the flip side is that I can nosedive into anxious funks then have trouble climbing back up. I get frustrated, impatient, demanding, and am likely to hand out pot-meets-kettle criticism, then follow that up by feeling rotten for handing out criticism.
Sunday afternoon - I got pretty snitty with some of my roller derby bout production committee pals via email; it was simply a matter of me being out of an information loop, but since I was missing that particular bit of information (no Betti, the sky is NOT falling) things got mighty ugly in the land-o-Betti.
Since I can't skate, I take my role in derby production (perhaps too) seriously. I thought that my lack of action/attention had allowed for a big problem to develop, and since I had previously failed at my feeble attempt to drop out of my production position, I rapidly fell into "Crap! I KNEW this was going to happen, I can't keep up with everything!!" mode. That turned into "the bout will suck and it's my fault" which turned into blind panic, (oh so not fun, especially while 7 months pregnant) which turned into anger, which turned in nervous exhasuted wreck who sleeps badly and dreams of spreadsheets and pre-bout setup gone wrong.
Mr. Hubby has seen me fall into this mode many times before, and responded by turning off a football game and fixing me meatloaf - I've known for him 8 years now, and he still makes me swoon. Without Mr. Hubby's intervention, I'm sure I would have been much more anxious for a longer period of time.
Lucky for me I don't have the attention span (or energy) to stay angry about anything for very long. Especially because there is no problem to solve, I'm feeling much better. I kind of feel like a little kid who has become completely exhasuted by throwing a temper tantrum. I think I'm a nap away from just fine, and when this upcoming derby bout turns out to be a raging success I'll be back to Suki mode.
I still consider that to be true, but the flip side is that I can nosedive into anxious funks then have trouble climbing back up. I get frustrated, impatient, demanding, and am likely to hand out pot-meets-kettle criticism, then follow that up by feeling rotten for handing out criticism.
Sunday afternoon - I got pretty snitty with some of my roller derby bout production committee pals via email; it was simply a matter of me being out of an information loop, but since I was missing that particular bit of information (no Betti, the sky is NOT falling) things got mighty ugly in the land-o-Betti.
Since I can't skate, I take my role in derby production (perhaps too) seriously. I thought that my lack of action/attention had allowed for a big problem to develop, and since I had previously failed at my feeble attempt to drop out of my production position, I rapidly fell into "Crap! I KNEW this was going to happen, I can't keep up with everything!!" mode. That turned into "the bout will suck and it's my fault" which turned into blind panic, (oh so not fun, especially while 7 months pregnant) which turned into anger, which turned in nervous exhasuted wreck who sleeps badly and dreams of spreadsheets and pre-bout setup gone wrong.
Mr. Hubby has seen me fall into this mode many times before, and responded by turning off a football game and fixing me meatloaf - I've known for him 8 years now, and he still makes me swoon. Without Mr. Hubby's intervention, I'm sure I would have been much more anxious for a longer period of time.
Lucky for me I don't have the attention span (or energy) to stay angry about anything for very long. Especially because there is no problem to solve, I'm feeling much better. I kind of feel like a little kid who has become completely exhasuted by throwing a temper tantrum. I think I'm a nap away from just fine, and when this upcoming derby bout turns out to be a raging success I'll be back to Suki mode.
Thursday, September 13, 2007
Derby Fever!
So I'm supposed to be working on my birth plan right now, my "Childbirth and Parenting Education" binder is across my lap, I've got food and water within arms reach, and all I can think about is DERBY. I have not been on wheels since FEBRUARY, people!
My gals' second home bout is next Saturday, and I did a piss-poor job of stepping down as volunteer coordinator, so I've been busy busy busy - I'm also studying for my childbirth class, overhauling my neglected home filing system, altering the space-time continuum, and doing massive amounts of data (re)entry thanks-very-little, stupid hard drive crash!
Peh . . . . I'll quit whining . . .
THE POINT of this post is to direct you to this website, which currently boasts some photos of my beee-yuuu-ti-ful teammates.
I can't believe how far we've come since the beginning of 2007!
Whoa . . . resuming whining - I don't know that "teammate" is the proper noun to use since I have not been a skating member of the team for quite some time now. Gah! Identity crisis!! To be made much worse by the fact that I certainly CAN NOT fit into my old derby clothes; what the hell will I wear to next Saturday's bout?
My gals' second home bout is next Saturday, and I did a piss-poor job of stepping down as volunteer coordinator, so I've been busy busy busy - I'm also studying for my childbirth class, overhauling my neglected home filing system, altering the space-time continuum, and doing massive amounts of data (re)entry thanks-very-little, stupid hard drive crash!
Peh . . . . I'll quit whining . . .
THE POINT of this post is to direct you to this website, which currently boasts some photos of my beee-yuuu-ti-ful teammates.
I can't believe how far we've come since the beginning of 2007!
Whoa . . . resuming whining - I don't know that "teammate" is the proper noun to use since I have not been a skating member of the team for quite some time now. Gah! Identity crisis!! To be made much worse by the fact that I certainly CAN NOT fit into my old derby clothes; what the hell will I wear to next Saturday's bout?
Sunday, June 10, 2007
a day of extremes
I may be developing an addiction to yoga - yesterday at 10am I found myself at back on the mat, listening to PeacefulMama's instructions as her baby boy (YogaBaby) happily gurgled at us from his pillow perch nearby. You'd think it'd be disrupting to have a three month old in class, but so far he's been nothing but a happy focal point that occasionally needs to be fed. I stayed nearly an hour after class, enjoying not being surrounded by projects I should be working on at home (nursery? what nursery?). PeacefulMama, YogaBaby and I just lounged around and swapped stories. Since she usually only teaches on Saturday, I'm feeling really good about the classes I took with her earlier this week, and looking back am glad I had a stumbly start: to know me is to endure my often-stumbly social skills, I am a foot-in-mouth guru.
I then drove to the location my rollergirl friends were preparing themselves for a photo shoot; they've got bouts coming up soon and need to look sassy in the programs. I was happily greeted by many people I've slammed into and been slammed by, and was laughed at for my baggy pregnancy shorts since I still look like a kid playing dress-up when I wear maternity clothes. I intended on taking a quick "what do you need me to pick up for you" order then return in my old derby shirt so I could sneak into a group photo, as "support staff" on home bout days.
My day took a nosedive and didn't get back to "good" until much later in the evening.
To summarize,
I was stranded at the mall for hours becuase my ginormous light blue 1990 model land-yacht of a car needed a new battery installed, which turned into also needing a new starting mechanism, which means I've now spent over $600 on my vehicle while I'm supposed to be saving up baby money.
I arrived to the group photo incredibly late; I also had aspirations to have makeup on and my hair fixed, especially because everyone else was looking freaking fantastico, but I looked about as sexy as a pork chop since there was no time for me to slap on any eyeliner, much less actually do my hair. I did manage to get some lipstick on between photo 1 and photo 2, but it was of little consolation to me.
Two friends of mine (one I've become very attached to over the years, one I hope to get closer too soon) have been in really poor health lately, and are not getting better yet. I want to DO something about it, I want to fix their problems, and I can't. I'm encouraged that yet other friend of mine is on a steady path to recovery from her own health issues, but I won't be a completely happy camper 'till everyone has the energy to make it through a gentle day.
Then my day returned back to happy; I spent the evening at a pitch-in barbeque with Mr. Hubby, my dawg, friends I hadn't seen in many months, and friends-of-friends who were fantastic company. The neighborhood cats were very entertaining, the weather was gorgeous, the bugs weren't biting, and I ate and ate and ate and ate . . . . I hope that I'm actually on my way to gaining some weight on the kid's behalf - if I get another "you lost weight?!" speach from my midwife I'll be disappointed.
Mr. Hubby headed off to a birthday party and I headed to bed with the dog and a "so you've got a baby on the way" book - before falling asleep, I *think* I felt the kid move, but it may have been food gurgling around?
I then drove to the location my rollergirl friends were preparing themselves for a photo shoot; they've got bouts coming up soon and need to look sassy in the programs. I was happily greeted by many people I've slammed into and been slammed by, and was laughed at for my baggy pregnancy shorts since I still look like a kid playing dress-up when I wear maternity clothes. I intended on taking a quick "what do you need me to pick up for you" order then return in my old derby shirt so I could sneak into a group photo, as "support staff" on home bout days.
My day took a nosedive and didn't get back to "good" until much later in the evening.
To summarize,
I was stranded at the mall for hours becuase my ginormous light blue 1990 model land-yacht of a car needed a new battery installed, which turned into also needing a new starting mechanism, which means I've now spent over $600 on my vehicle while I'm supposed to be saving up baby money.
I arrived to the group photo incredibly late; I also had aspirations to have makeup on and my hair fixed, especially because everyone else was looking freaking fantastico, but I looked about as sexy as a pork chop since there was no time for me to slap on any eyeliner, much less actually do my hair. I did manage to get some lipstick on between photo 1 and photo 2, but it was of little consolation to me.
Two friends of mine (one I've become very attached to over the years, one I hope to get closer too soon) have been in really poor health lately, and are not getting better yet. I want to DO something about it, I want to fix their problems, and I can't. I'm encouraged that yet other friend of mine is on a steady path to recovery from her own health issues, but I won't be a completely happy camper 'till everyone has the energy to make it through a gentle day.
Then my day returned back to happy; I spent the evening at a pitch-in barbeque with Mr. Hubby, my dawg, friends I hadn't seen in many months, and friends-of-friends who were fantastic company. The neighborhood cats were very entertaining, the weather was gorgeous, the bugs weren't biting, and I ate and ate and ate and ate . . . . I hope that I'm actually on my way to gaining some weight on the kid's behalf - if I get another "you lost weight?!" speach from my midwife I'll be disappointed.
Mr. Hubby headed off to a birthday party and I headed to bed with the dog and a "so you've got a baby on the way" book - before falling asleep, I *think* I felt the kid move, but it may have been food gurgling around?
Wednesday, June 6, 2007
perhaps my "heart light" needs new batteries?
I attended my first prenatal yoga class yesterday afternoon, and discovered a few things about myself:
1) I'm *mostly* inflexible.
I have a few idiot-savant joints in my body, but that's where my stretchy-talent ends. The yoga instructor said "now flatten your palms out on the mat" and my fingers were dangling several inches above, with no chance of even swiping the mat.
2) I'm a giant smartass and really need to learn how to behave.
I'm assuming that a normal part of this prenatal yoga class is for the instructor to say positive birth-related "affirmations" to the class, to rev them up for labor. This is new to me, caught me off guard, and I was really afraid I'd start giggling at the relative crunchy granola-ness of it all.
I managed not to giggle. Score.
- and yet -
When the instructor repeated the phrase "I am surrounded by strong women", I heard myself mutter "well, smell isn't everything" loud enough that everyone could hear me.
Now I HAVE to go back to her class so I can apologize for acting like a brat.
(Before yesterday, I probably already secured my spot in the "unenlightened" section of hell - I am the same gal who while sitting in the front row of church snuck tic-tacs to my friends after we took our first communion)
3) I really miss roller derby practice.
My favorite phrase from roller derby practice is "knock the bitch down!" - it gives you a rush and the confidence to purposefully slam yourself into another human being while trying to keep your wheels beneath you.
The phrase I heard repeatedly in this yoga class was "let your heart-light shine out".
Umm . . . I'm attending class because I'm yoga-curious, my ass hurts, and my new-mother friend at work loved it.
To quote Stan and Kyle from Southpark, "I'm all about peace and love and all that hippie stuff" - but I was not prepared for that phrase. I was concentrating on not falling on top of another pregnant woman, and now I had to concentrate on not smirking too?
In closing:
I've got to continue with this yoga-gig, 'cause I'm about as flexible as toast and I fear that I will physically shatter during labor. I've got to scrub out the Beavis&Butthead/Seinfeld/snarky part of my brain for an hour at a time a few times a week, and not be close-minded. I already admire many things about the yoga instructor, and already like many of the participants - there is something very fun and very funny about being surrounded by other pregnant women. Good griefy, this is gonna be tough.
IN OTHER NEWS:
I received two HUGE bags of baby clothes last night and resisted the urge to dress my pets. I'm going to sort the the clothes by neutral/boy/girl then size so I can pack all the neutrals into the kid's dresser and have the other stuff either ready to pack or give away.
1) I'm *mostly* inflexible.
I have a few idiot-savant joints in my body, but that's where my stretchy-talent ends. The yoga instructor said "now flatten your palms out on the mat" and my fingers were dangling several inches above, with no chance of even swiping the mat.
2) I'm a giant smartass and really need to learn how to behave.
I'm assuming that a normal part of this prenatal yoga class is for the instructor to say positive birth-related "affirmations" to the class, to rev them up for labor. This is new to me, caught me off guard, and I was really afraid I'd start giggling at the relative crunchy granola-ness of it all.
I managed not to giggle. Score.
- and yet -
When the instructor repeated the phrase "I am surrounded by strong women", I heard myself mutter "well, smell isn't everything" loud enough that everyone could hear me.
Now I HAVE to go back to her class so I can apologize for acting like a brat.
(Before yesterday, I probably already secured my spot in the "unenlightened" section of hell - I am the same gal who while sitting in the front row of church snuck tic-tacs to my friends after we took our first communion)
3) I really miss roller derby practice.
My favorite phrase from roller derby practice is "knock the bitch down!" - it gives you a rush and the confidence to purposefully slam yourself into another human being while trying to keep your wheels beneath you.
The phrase I heard repeatedly in this yoga class was "let your heart-light shine out".
Umm . . . I'm attending class because I'm yoga-curious, my ass hurts, and my new-mother friend at work loved it.
To quote Stan and Kyle from Southpark, "I'm all about peace and love and all that hippie stuff" - but I was not prepared for that phrase. I was concentrating on not falling on top of another pregnant woman, and now I had to concentrate on not smirking too?
In closing:
I've got to continue with this yoga-gig, 'cause I'm about as flexible as toast and I fear that I will physically shatter during labor. I've got to scrub out the Beavis&Butthead/Seinfeld/snarky part of my brain for an hour at a time a few times a week, and not be close-minded. I already admire many things about the yoga instructor, and already like many of the participants - there is something very fun and very funny about being surrounded by other pregnant women. Good griefy, this is gonna be tough.
IN OTHER NEWS:
I received two HUGE bags of baby clothes last night and resisted the urge to dress my pets. I'm going to sort the the clothes by neutral/boy/girl then size so I can pack all the neutrals into the kid's dresser and have the other stuff either ready to pack or give away.
Thursday, May 31, 2007
reunited with rollergirls and other goodies
As previous posts suggest, Wednesday was not a fantastic day for me.
I can't help but to wonder if I brought some of the misery upon myself by "overdoing" the weekend (gasp! I actually attended a barbeque, helped clean the house, and hauled crap off to Goodwill!)
Tuesday was rough at work (nausuea. backaches, exhaustion) but I stuck it out like a trooper. My prize at the bottom 'o the cereal box? When I got home, I was THRILLED to see a huge diaper box waiting on the front porch for me!
My brother-in-law (Mr. Hubby's side) and sister-in-law packed it full of the most awesome hand-me-down harvest of pregnancy books, infant clothes, accessories, and toys I could imagine. I’ve had so much fun unpacking and repacking that box – I’m determined to put fresh shelf paper in “the kid’s” dresser before filling it with goodies. I presented one of the tiny onesies to Suki (my 2yo 15lb Japanese Chin/Beagle mix) for a sniff-test and she had never looked more puzzled by anything in her life. I’m hiding all the booties away ‘till there are tiny human feet to occupy them, for fear they turn into pet toys, and because I’m very very tempted to put them on Suki and watch her march around looking bewildered by her own paws. Oooooh, having typed that, I wonder if any of the baby clothes I have now would fit my cats?
Later Tuesday evening I attending a rollergirl’s 40th birthday party; her husband rented the entire rink so every person there was a birthday guest. It was very very strange for me to see how much my teammates have improved - time didn't stop without me? And even stranger was not skating myself - both my regular doctor and my midwife are against me rollerskating for fear I take a hard fall. . . my "but I'm trained to fall properly!" argument is received by deaf ears. I figure if I'm not going to allow myself something as probably harmelss as Diet Coke, I really should stick to the whole "no skating allowed" gig. I actually managed to not be jealous of their mobility (perhaps I was afraid I had forgotton how to skate?) and I cheered people on instead.
I had a good time catching up with many people for the first time in 10 weeks, and may let myself get roped into becoming a “volunteer coordinator” for our local bouts. I'm just afraid of succumbing to "helium hand" (over willingness to volunteer for tasks) then find that I'm too sick and tired to do a decent job. At minimum, I think my derby team needs a visibly pregnany cheerleader to waddle around for drama's sake.
The only minor bump in the evening was that out of the blue, one of my teammates said "whatever you do, if it's a girl, don't name it XXXXXXX". I was perplexed because I had no recollection of telling her that was #1 on my girl-name list. She went on to say, "My sister-in-law named her girl XXXXXXX, and since it is one of the most popular baby girl names I'm just sure she's going to be completely confused once she hits pre-school . . ." I responded by blushing and stuttering something along the lines of XXXXXXX being one of my top-five names. Just a few moments before, another rollergirl did a really bad job of hiding absolute confusion at my #1 boy-name. So I'm thinking it'd be a good idea for me to shut the hell up about what I may or may not name this spawn?
Forgetting that I am indeed quite pregnant and now a giant wuss, I made the horrific mistake of not leaving the party until 9 getting to sleep until 11 “on a school night” which surely contributed to my hideous Wednesday. Shame on me for attempting such badassitude. :)
I can't help but to wonder if I brought some of the misery upon myself by "overdoing" the weekend (gasp! I actually attended a barbeque, helped clean the house, and hauled crap off to Goodwill!)
Tuesday was rough at work (nausuea. backaches, exhaustion) but I stuck it out like a trooper. My prize at the bottom 'o the cereal box? When I got home, I was THRILLED to see a huge diaper box waiting on the front porch for me!
My brother-in-law (Mr. Hubby's side) and sister-in-law packed it full of the most awesome hand-me-down harvest of pregnancy books, infant clothes, accessories, and toys I could imagine. I’ve had so much fun unpacking and repacking that box – I’m determined to put fresh shelf paper in “the kid’s” dresser before filling it with goodies. I presented one of the tiny onesies to Suki (my 2yo 15lb Japanese Chin/Beagle mix) for a sniff-test and she had never looked more puzzled by anything in her life. I’m hiding all the booties away ‘till there are tiny human feet to occupy them, for fear they turn into pet toys, and because I’m very very tempted to put them on Suki and watch her march around looking bewildered by her own paws. Oooooh, having typed that, I wonder if any of the baby clothes I have now would fit my cats?
Later Tuesday evening I attending a rollergirl’s 40th birthday party; her husband rented the entire rink so every person there was a birthday guest. It was very very strange for me to see how much my teammates have improved - time didn't stop without me? And even stranger was not skating myself - both my regular doctor and my midwife are against me rollerskating for fear I take a hard fall. . . my "but I'm trained to fall properly!" argument is received by deaf ears. I figure if I'm not going to allow myself something as probably harmelss as Diet Coke, I really should stick to the whole "no skating allowed" gig. I actually managed to not be jealous of their mobility (perhaps I was afraid I had forgotton how to skate?) and I cheered people on instead.
I had a good time catching up with many people for the first time in 10 weeks, and may let myself get roped into becoming a “volunteer coordinator” for our local bouts. I'm just afraid of succumbing to "helium hand" (over willingness to volunteer for tasks) then find that I'm too sick and tired to do a decent job. At minimum, I think my derby team needs a visibly pregnany cheerleader to waddle around for drama's sake.
The only minor bump in the evening was that out of the blue, one of my teammates said "whatever you do, if it's a girl, don't name it XXXXXXX". I was perplexed because I had no recollection of telling her that was #1 on my girl-name list. She went on to say, "My sister-in-law named her girl XXXXXXX, and since it is one of the most popular baby girl names I'm just sure she's going to be completely confused once she hits pre-school . . ." I responded by blushing and stuttering something along the lines of XXXXXXX being one of my top-five names. Just a few moments before, another rollergirl did a really bad job of hiding absolute confusion at my #1 boy-name. So I'm thinking it'd be a good idea for me to shut the hell up about what I may or may not name this spawn?
Forgetting that I am indeed quite pregnant and now a giant wuss, I made the horrific mistake of not leaving the party until 9 getting to sleep until 11 “on a school night” which surely contributed to my hideous Wednesday. Shame on me for attempting such badassitude. :)
Sunday, April 15, 2007
hello, hello again, shaboom and hopin' we'll meet again
Note: this post title made more sense when I was using a less-than-fantastic blogsite and I ended this rant by asking the blog-o-verse to help me relocate to greener pastures . . . I was exhausted and nearly ready to give up on blogging entirely.
With lots of help from Mr. Lee, a great portion of the universe has been told that I am pregnant. Fair enough, he was the third person I told - he would have been expecting me to be ready to go to watch a roller derby bout, and I needed to be told by a test that _didn't_ come from the dollar store that the "two-stripe" news was for real.
* Take note: Dollar store pregnancy tests _do_ work just fine, but are less sensitive than more expensive tests. If you want to know if you're harboring a hitch-hiker ASAP, plan on spending more than a buck to find out.
First, I called up Mr. Hubby, who was out of town, spending time with his family - I felt bad that he wasn't there the moment I found out; I was expecting a negative response! I just wanted clearance for a Saturday night of beer and roller derby spectatorship!!
Second, I called up my parents, who are estatic. I would have preferred to tell them in person, but I was home alone and understandably rattled - as if I could wait!
a side note: I should also mention that my status daughter has changed a bit, to my perception, I am now she who carries our first grandchild, and am forbidden to curse because "Sweet Baby doesn't need to hear that!".
Third, I called up Mr. Lee and said "I'm running late getting ready to leave, please go buy me a pregnancy test that costs more that $10." He sounded like he was gonna wet himself laughing at me. He quickly arrived with at $13 test that looked like it could diffuse a nuclear bomb, strawberries, and a fruit smoothie.
I decided to stick with my plans to attend the roller derby bout so I would have something to think about other than my entire life changing. I planned on telling my derby friends _after_ the bout was over, since it is important to watch other teams play in order to learn what to do and more importantly, what NOT to do in a bout situation. Mr. Lee was sitting at the opposite end of some bleachers and my friend Tony questioned our atypical tardiness "Oh, she's pregnant" was his reply, followed by a chorus of "what!?" and "Huh?!?". As I told my fellow derby girls who didn't over hear that blip of news, their faces vaccilated between shock, glee, and horror. "You can't skate!" was the most common response, followed by "ohmygawd, I completely slammed into you last week, I'm so sorry!"
So within a few hours, my family, my husband's family, and my derby friends knew - and I was desperate to stop the news from getting any further because I was convinced I'd jinx my hopeful future baby.
My logic? We'd been "not not trying" to concieve for quite a while and nothing was happening, so I was overjoyed to focus on being a derby girl instead, and gave little to no thought to conception. My ovaries were ingoring me, I could ignore them right back! As soon as I really got my skates under me, was well on my way to fufilling all WFTDA bouting requirements, and had all the equipment I needed . . . ta daa! Time to hang up the skates. In my mind, a logical extension was "as soon as everyone knows, I'll lose the poor kid and have to tell everyone about that".
I'm no longer afraid of miscarrying, although I know it is a very real possibility, first time through and all. Now I'm far too busy concentrating on trying to stay awake and keeping up my yakk-free streak. My new mantra is "13 weeks . . . . midwife says I'll feel better at 13 weeks . . . ." I hope the next four weeks fly by quickly, if it weren't for that pesky full-time job of mine I'd just attempt to sleep through the next month.
I broke the "official" news at my parent's church on Easter Sunday, I was walking around looking like death w/ inflated boobs anyway - I doubt I could have fooled anyone. In fact, I was called out by my kindergarten teacher; I abruptly sat down in the middle of the world's longest prayer, and hit my head on her hymnal behind me. Mr. Hubby and my mom both looked like they were going to leap out of their skin until I indicated that I was just tired, not fainting. After the service, I turned around and said "so . . . I've got some interesting news" and she just laughed at me "Oh, you're pregnant!"
I intended to send out a swarm of emails on Sunday night and on Monday, but instead spent all that time sleeping, sans quick trips to the kitchen and the bathroom. Ever slept for 15 hours in less than a day? It's wieeeeeeerd, and leaves you wanting only more sleep.
Short version: I hope I don't deliver early so I can be a pumpkin for Halloween. Kiddo will be here before Thanksgiving and I really hope I'm up for turkey, cranberries, and stuffing by then!
COMMENTS (harvested from old account)
Autumn - 2007-04-13 16:45:01 Congratulations!!!
-------------------------------
Alie - 2007-04-13 21:53:43 Glad your blogging again! I was tired of checking your page and seeing that disguesting elvis tatoo. I of corse am estatically happy for you!!! Seeing as I will be and AUNT! That's right blogging nation! I'm outing myself as betti's sister. And can I just say what a kick-ass-fabulous-wonderful-wierd-outragesouly wonderful sister she is!
-------------------------------
Alie - 2007-04-13 21:55:13 Did I mention that she's wonderful? oh yeah and "super kewl" (insert Cartman voice)
-------------------------------
Madame D - 2007-04-13 22:17:01 Whooo! Of course, you know, this means that I'll have to make you a mountain of baby things. Because I have the time, the yarn, and nothing better to do. Congrats, and don't feel too bad about Mr.Lee telling everyone. I still hold a grudge against my ex for telling everyone who went through his line at work, which meant I only got to tell three people. Who were out of state. Whose numbers he didn't know.
-------------------------------
Mari - 2007-04-14 14:05:38 You'll have to buy a domain name, and then you can link something like blogger to the domain name- host the blog there basically.
-------------------------------
alfredsmom - 2007-04-15 11:06:05 CONGRATULATIONS!!! AHHHHHHH!!!!! AHHHH!!!!!!! AHHHH!!!! Wow! I suppose that explains the blogging hiatus. Of course, now you'll be expected to post even more and OF COURSE post belly pictures. PErsonally, I really like Typepad.Check it out.
-------------------------------
Denise - 2007-04-15 19:04:34 i agree with alfredsmom about typepad -- now, i don't know anything about this shit, but a buncha people i know who DO know something about this shit think typepad's pretty cool. and hey, it's what cuteoverload uses. c'mon! ....oh, and yeah....congratulations!!! thanks for the play-by-play of notification...i LOVE that shit. have a great time with it, and know i send my blessings along!
-------------------------------
nikki - 2007-04-16 10:47:34 Yeah! I've already congratulated you, but I will do it again! Congrats! I hope the early pregnancy ickies go away soon.
-------------------------------
Catazon - 2007-04-16 15:30:37 Congrats, and thanks for the great story about your first few weeks of pregnancy! One of my teammates is due any day now, and she can't wait to skate with us again. I use Wordpress for my blog and host it with a guy that does websites for librarians, lishost.org, but you can get a Wordpress blog at wordpress.com without paying the $10/month hosting fees.
-------------------------------
Denise - 2007-04-20 13:43:42i *just* got your title! life is but a dream, sweetheart!
With lots of help from Mr. Lee, a great portion of the universe has been told that I am pregnant. Fair enough, he was the third person I told - he would have been expecting me to be ready to go to watch a roller derby bout, and I needed to be told by a test that _didn't_ come from the dollar store that the "two-stripe" news was for real.
* Take note: Dollar store pregnancy tests _do_ work just fine, but are less sensitive than more expensive tests. If you want to know if you're harboring a hitch-hiker ASAP, plan on spending more than a buck to find out.
First, I called up Mr. Hubby, who was out of town, spending time with his family - I felt bad that he wasn't there the moment I found out; I was expecting a negative response! I just wanted clearance for a Saturday night of beer and roller derby spectatorship!!
Second, I called up my parents, who are estatic. I would have preferred to tell them in person, but I was home alone and understandably rattled - as if I could wait!
a side note: I should also mention that my status daughter has changed a bit, to my perception, I am now she who carries our first grandchild, and am forbidden to curse because "Sweet Baby doesn't need to hear that!".
Third, I called up Mr. Lee and said "I'm running late getting ready to leave, please go buy me a pregnancy test that costs more that $10." He sounded like he was gonna wet himself laughing at me. He quickly arrived with at $13 test that looked like it could diffuse a nuclear bomb, strawberries, and a fruit smoothie.
I decided to stick with my plans to attend the roller derby bout so I would have something to think about other than my entire life changing. I planned on telling my derby friends _after_ the bout was over, since it is important to watch other teams play in order to learn what to do and more importantly, what NOT to do in a bout situation. Mr. Lee was sitting at the opposite end of some bleachers and my friend Tony questioned our atypical tardiness "Oh, she's pregnant" was his reply, followed by a chorus of "what!?" and "Huh?!?". As I told my fellow derby girls who didn't over hear that blip of news, their faces vaccilated between shock, glee, and horror. "You can't skate!" was the most common response, followed by "ohmygawd, I completely slammed into you last week, I'm so sorry!"
So within a few hours, my family, my husband's family, and my derby friends knew - and I was desperate to stop the news from getting any further because I was convinced I'd jinx my hopeful future baby.
My logic? We'd been "not not trying" to concieve for quite a while and nothing was happening, so I was overjoyed to focus on being a derby girl instead, and gave little to no thought to conception. My ovaries were ingoring me, I could ignore them right back! As soon as I really got my skates under me, was well on my way to fufilling all WFTDA bouting requirements, and had all the equipment I needed . . . ta daa! Time to hang up the skates. In my mind, a logical extension was "as soon as everyone knows, I'll lose the poor kid and have to tell everyone about that".
I'm no longer afraid of miscarrying, although I know it is a very real possibility, first time through and all. Now I'm far too busy concentrating on trying to stay awake and keeping up my yakk-free streak. My new mantra is "13 weeks . . . . midwife says I'll feel better at 13 weeks . . . ." I hope the next four weeks fly by quickly, if it weren't for that pesky full-time job of mine I'd just attempt to sleep through the next month.
I broke the "official" news at my parent's church on Easter Sunday, I was walking around looking like death w/ inflated boobs anyway - I doubt I could have fooled anyone. In fact, I was called out by my kindergarten teacher; I abruptly sat down in the middle of the world's longest prayer, and hit my head on her hymnal behind me. Mr. Hubby and my mom both looked like they were going to leap out of their skin until I indicated that I was just tired, not fainting. After the service, I turned around and said "so . . . I've got some interesting news" and she just laughed at me "Oh, you're pregnant!"
I intended to send out a swarm of emails on Sunday night and on Monday, but instead spent all that time sleeping, sans quick trips to the kitchen and the bathroom. Ever slept for 15 hours in less than a day? It's wieeeeeeerd, and leaves you wanting only more sleep.
Short version: I hope I don't deliver early so I can be a pumpkin for Halloween. Kiddo will be here before Thanksgiving and I really hope I'm up for turkey, cranberries, and stuffing by then!
COMMENTS (harvested from old account)
Autumn - 2007-04-13 16:45:01 Congratulations!!!
-------------------------------
Alie - 2007-04-13 21:53:43 Glad your blogging again! I was tired of checking your page and seeing that disguesting elvis tatoo. I of corse am estatically happy for you!!! Seeing as I will be and AUNT! That's right blogging nation! I'm outing myself as betti's sister. And can I just say what a kick-ass-fabulous-wonderful-wierd-outragesouly wonderful sister she is!
-------------------------------
Alie - 2007-04-13 21:55:13 Did I mention that she's wonderful? oh yeah and "super kewl" (insert Cartman voice)
-------------------------------
Madame D - 2007-04-13 22:17:01 Whooo! Of course, you know, this means that I'll have to make you a mountain of baby things. Because I have the time, the yarn, and nothing better to do. Congrats, and don't feel too bad about Mr.Lee telling everyone. I still hold a grudge against my ex for telling everyone who went through his line at work, which meant I only got to tell three people. Who were out of state. Whose numbers he didn't know.
-------------------------------
Mari - 2007-04-14 14:05:38 You'll have to buy a domain name, and then you can link something like blogger to the domain name- host the blog there basically.
-------------------------------
alfredsmom - 2007-04-15 11:06:05 CONGRATULATIONS!!! AHHHHHHH!!!!! AHHHH!!!!!!! AHHHH!!!! Wow! I suppose that explains the blogging hiatus. Of course, now you'll be expected to post even more and OF COURSE post belly pictures. PErsonally, I really like Typepad.Check it out.
-------------------------------
Denise - 2007-04-15 19:04:34 i agree with alfredsmom about typepad -- now, i don't know anything about this shit, but a buncha people i know who DO know something about this shit think typepad's pretty cool. and hey, it's what cuteoverload uses. c'mon! ....oh, and yeah....congratulations!!! thanks for the play-by-play of notification...i LOVE that shit. have a great time with it, and know i send my blessings along!
-------------------------------
nikki - 2007-04-16 10:47:34 Yeah! I've already congratulated you, but I will do it again! Congrats! I hope the early pregnancy ickies go away soon.
-------------------------------
Catazon - 2007-04-16 15:30:37 Congrats, and thanks for the great story about your first few weeks of pregnancy! One of my teammates is due any day now, and she can't wait to skate with us again. I use Wordpress for my blog and host it with a guy that does websites for librarians, lishost.org, but you can get a Wordpress blog at wordpress.com without paying the $10/month hosting fees.
-------------------------------
Denise - 2007-04-20 13:43:42i *just* got your title! life is but a dream, sweetheart!
Thursday, April 12, 2007
I've bitten off all my fingernails!?
I've come across my first *real* conflict with training for roller derby. Fortunately the conflict is not with my own body or any of my (fabu) teammates; the conflict stems from my urge to play in MUD.
Yesterday, my corner of the Midwest offered up weather PERFECT for stirring the compost piles and doing some preliminary vegetable-patch preperations. I've seen pansies placed in the ground around town, and I'm itching to part wtih $20 to plunk some down by my mailbox and up by the front stoop so I can enjoy some color. If I didn't have a meeting to attend after lunch then practice into the evening, I would have stayed outside until my overalls were damp with dew, my hands were numb, my nose was running, and the light had faded to the point I was paranoid of chopping unsuspecting worms in half with my garden implements of doom.
One aspect of my evening was the same: I was very tired, very sore, and very very happy.
On the minus side, my garden is neglected. On the plus side, I shared smiles, body slams, accidental pile-ups, and laughs with an extrodinarly friendly group of people.
I'm telling myself that I can only get away with derby for a finite amount of time. I hope that my yard can wait on me, I hope the vagrant bunnies still stop by to eat clover and don't mind the (potential) absence of salad bar. I hope my kitty-corner backyard neighbors don't think they've "won" because I'm not busy cluttering their pristine Cheml@wn view with my scruffy-looking experiments.
And I wonder why I've recently taken up biting my fingernails, when I haven't done that for years . . . .
I'm *considering* coming up with extra money (that I want to spend on more skating gear) to hire out someone to help my yard along a bit. The criteria being
1) little to no chemical use
2) unless it's edible, it's a native species
3) I'm helping rather than harming native critters
4) tomatoes. Lots and lots of them.
5) tidy-looking enough that my neighbors don't get shitty
6)
7)
I could go on forever.The point is, I want to do this myself and am afraid I'll end up being a ginormous hag to anyone foolish enough to work on my yard on my behalf.
Yesterday, my corner of the Midwest offered up weather PERFECT for stirring the compost piles and doing some preliminary vegetable-patch preperations. I've seen pansies placed in the ground around town, and I'm itching to part wtih $20 to plunk some down by my mailbox and up by the front stoop so I can enjoy some color. If I didn't have a meeting to attend after lunch then practice into the evening, I would have stayed outside until my overalls were damp with dew, my hands were numb, my nose was running, and the light had faded to the point I was paranoid of chopping unsuspecting worms in half with my garden implements of doom.
One aspect of my evening was the same: I was very tired, very sore, and very very happy.
On the minus side, my garden is neglected. On the plus side, I shared smiles, body slams, accidental pile-ups, and laughs with an extrodinarly friendly group of people.
I'm telling myself that I can only get away with derby for a finite amount of time. I hope that my yard can wait on me, I hope the vagrant bunnies still stop by to eat clover and don't mind the (potential) absence of salad bar. I hope my kitty-corner backyard neighbors don't think they've "won" because I'm not busy cluttering their pristine Cheml@wn view with my scruffy-looking experiments.
And I wonder why I've recently taken up biting my fingernails, when I haven't done that for years . . . .
I'm *considering* coming up with extra money (that I want to spend on more skating gear) to hire out someone to help my yard along a bit. The criteria being
1) little to no chemical use
2) unless it's edible, it's a native species
3) I'm helping rather than harming native critters
4) tomatoes. Lots and lots of them.
5) tidy-looking enough that my neighbors don't get shitty
6)
7)
I could go on forever.The point is, I want to do this myself and am afraid I'll end up being a ginormous hag to anyone foolish enough to work on my yard on my behalf.
Monday, April 9, 2007
Cruuuuudd . .
um, someone explain to me how it's Thursday already?
I have _not_ been the devoted blogger I once was. I have a few excuses, but excuses are like assholes, everyone has one and all of them stink.
I suppose blogging has become "low priority" since I started training for roller derby, but I can't help but to think that I should keep blogging regardless of my schedule. I feel like I should continue to blah blah to the pseudo-anonymous void of the internet. As self-centered and vain as most of my entries are, blogging is a good way for me to hop out of my own head, out of my own little universe for a while and make a conscious effort to communicate with people in a passably normal way.
For instance, on Tuesday night, I attended a stretching class that was arranged specifically for my teammates and I. Since rollerderby is essentially controlled combat (yeah, I sell it as an endurance sport because I don't want people to form the opinion that I'm an angry person) we need to be able to recover from knocks and keep ourselves as limber as possible. All of us were learning to do rope-assisted leg stretches so there was alot of squirming and giggling going on with the occasional person sitting upright to watch what everyone else was doing. The instructor said something along the lines of "just wait until all of you can do these stretches in rhythm at the same time, it will be fantastic". Out of my mouth pops "yes, we'll be like starfish migrating across the ocean floor".
Bless the newbie laying next to me who started giggling at me! I wasn't trying to be funny, I didn't even intend to speak - that's just what was going through my head and it made (and makes) perfect sense to me.
I have been doing this since I was a little kid and only rarely have stumbled into an ugly situation because of it, but at the same time would really like to be better at engaging that between-brain-and-mouth filter that other people have or use more often than I do/can.
Not tragic, not really worth whining about, just trying to prevent foot-in-mouth-itis.
My question for you:What was your most notable foot-in-mouth moment? Did the the other person take it well, or were they ticked off?
COMMENTS (harvested from old account)
nikki - 2007-03-08 11:10:56 i have too many moments like those. in fact my foot rarely dislodges itself from my mouth.
-------------------------------
Alie - 2007-03-08 13:40:00 Too many to count! I have been working on my brian mouth filter a lot lately, kinda like a new years resolution. But I still love saying the things I think anyway! Oh yeah! I thought one of my students's anuts was her grandmother by saying "How nice *suzzie* your grandma came to watch you dance today!"
-------------------------------
Betti (me!) - 2007-03-08 14:51:26 Nikki, you must be great at yoga! Alie, that is _not_ the way to get repeat customers! :)
-------------------------------
nikki - 2007-03-09 09:07:32nah, i always fall over and land on my face.
I have _not_ been the devoted blogger I once was. I have a few excuses, but excuses are like assholes, everyone has one and all of them stink.
I suppose blogging has become "low priority" since I started training for roller derby, but I can't help but to think that I should keep blogging regardless of my schedule. I feel like I should continue to blah blah to the pseudo-anonymous void of the internet. As self-centered and vain as most of my entries are, blogging is a good way for me to hop out of my own head, out of my own little universe for a while and make a conscious effort to communicate with people in a passably normal way.
For instance, on Tuesday night, I attended a stretching class that was arranged specifically for my teammates and I. Since rollerderby is essentially controlled combat (yeah, I sell it as an endurance sport because I don't want people to form the opinion that I'm an angry person) we need to be able to recover from knocks and keep ourselves as limber as possible. All of us were learning to do rope-assisted leg stretches so there was alot of squirming and giggling going on with the occasional person sitting upright to watch what everyone else was doing. The instructor said something along the lines of "just wait until all of you can do these stretches in rhythm at the same time, it will be fantastic". Out of my mouth pops "yes, we'll be like starfish migrating across the ocean floor".
Bless the newbie laying next to me who started giggling at me! I wasn't trying to be funny, I didn't even intend to speak - that's just what was going through my head and it made (and makes) perfect sense to me.
I have been doing this since I was a little kid and only rarely have stumbled into an ugly situation because of it, but at the same time would really like to be better at engaging that between-brain-and-mouth filter that other people have or use more often than I do/can.
Not tragic, not really worth whining about, just trying to prevent foot-in-mouth-itis.
My question for you:What was your most notable foot-in-mouth moment? Did the the other person take it well, or were they ticked off?
COMMENTS (harvested from old account)
nikki - 2007-03-08 11:10:56 i have too many moments like those. in fact my foot rarely dislodges itself from my mouth.
-------------------------------
Alie - 2007-03-08 13:40:00 Too many to count! I have been working on my brian mouth filter a lot lately, kinda like a new years resolution. But I still love saying the things I think anyway! Oh yeah! I thought one of my students's anuts was her grandmother by saying "How nice *suzzie* your grandma came to watch you dance today!"
-------------------------------
Betti (me!) - 2007-03-08 14:51:26 Nikki, you must be great at yoga! Alie, that is _not_ the way to get repeat customers! :)
-------------------------------
nikki - 2007-03-09 09:07:32nah, i always fall over and land on my face.
Sunday, April 1, 2007
mild injury #3 / some info about roller derby gear
Derby-training injury #1 was in mid-January; I was attending an open skate session at my local rink and fell on my knees while not wearing knee pads, which resulted in a mild bruise beneath my left knee. No big deal.
Derby-training injury #2 has been an ongoing battle between my skate and the arch of my right foot - I've learned how to tape up my foot so it is no longer blistered/mangled by friction, my socks are now blood-less, and I don't have to pause mid-practice to adjust shifting bandages. Kinda painful in short bursts, but again, no big deal.
Derby-training injury #3 was definitely the most fun to acquire. Yesterday, we practiced knocking each other over via controlled bodyslam. Essentially you skate after someone (who is acting like a "Jammer", the person who skates laps around/past a cluster of other skaters) and try to knock them over (or at least slow them down) by quickly bumping your shoulder-thru-hip into their shoulder-thru-hip, avoiding using your head, elbows, hands, or anything below the butt to bump into them. I was knocked over at least three times and made very good use of my mega-dorky looking butt-pads and tailbone protector. However, I have nothing padding my upper arm from an unexpected shoulder slam. At one point, I happened to be practicing with one of our referees-in-training who hadn't figured out that you use the entire side of your body, _not_ just the bony part of your shoulder. I should mention that he's a very sturdy dude with very broad (and apparently bony) shoulders. So now I have a bruise on my arm, a few inches down from the shoulder. I have no complaint about the mild pain; my complaint is that the bruise is definitely not picture-worthy. Many derby-team web sites have a section devoted to pictures of injuries, I suppose because even as adults we like to show off our boo boos.
* ~ * ~ * ~ *
Speaking of showing off, I'm assembling quite a collection of (goofy) skating outfits. I find that I'm most comfortable training in:
Derby-training injury #2 has been an ongoing battle between my skate and the arch of my right foot - I've learned how to tape up my foot so it is no longer blistered/mangled by friction, my socks are now blood-less, and I don't have to pause mid-practice to adjust shifting bandages. Kinda painful in short bursts, but again, no big deal.
Derby-training injury #3 was definitely the most fun to acquire. Yesterday, we practiced knocking each other over via controlled bodyslam. Essentially you skate after someone (who is acting like a "Jammer", the person who skates laps around/past a cluster of other skaters) and try to knock them over (or at least slow them down) by quickly bumping your shoulder-thru-hip into their shoulder-thru-hip, avoiding using your head, elbows, hands, or anything below the butt to bump into them. I was knocked over at least three times and made very good use of my mega-dorky looking butt-pads and tailbone protector. However, I have nothing padding my upper arm from an unexpected shoulder slam. At one point, I happened to be practicing with one of our referees-in-training who hadn't figured out that you use the entire side of your body, _not_ just the bony part of your shoulder. I should mention that he's a very sturdy dude with very broad (and apparently bony) shoulders. So now I have a bruise on my arm, a few inches down from the shoulder. I have no complaint about the mild pain; my complaint is that the bruise is definitely not picture-worthy. Many derby-team web sites have a section devoted to pictures of injuries, I suppose because even as adults we like to show off our boo boos.
* ~ * ~ * ~ *
Speaking of showing off, I'm assembling quite a collection of (goofy) skating outfits. I find that I'm most comfortable training in:
- a helmet and mouth guard - because concussions suck
- wrist guards with cut-up socks as liners - I broke my right wrist back in '83 at a skating rink, and already spend time in wrist braces, duh.
- sports bra or regular bra covered by tight tank top - protect the girls! Even if it means squishing them into oblivion!
- long sleeved cotton top - so the elbow pads don't rub bonus sweat-absorbing qualities, and protection from being scraped by someone else's padding
- cotton undies - animal prints or cartoon characters please! If I have to have my clothes cut off by a medical professional, I might as well entertain them in the process.
- thick (footless) tights - so the kneepads don't rub, animal prints or stripes preferred
cotton bike shorts/tiny tight shorts/padded bike shorts - so my tights are more modest and I have something hold my butt pads in place and latch my tailbone protector onto. - (I have to mention that even if your tailbone protector is in its proper place, it makes you look like you dropped a giant load in your pants. Which is preferable to an injured tailbone, if that gives you an idea of how bad an injured tailbone can be).
- -and- top off the three layers between my butt and the floor with a miniskirt (in a feeble attempt to hide my butt pads)
- Of course I'm also wearing a pair or two of socks under my skates
Just wanted to shatter any possible illusions that I'm lookin' hawt, or even trying - I too have seen girls skate in thigh-high fishnets, tiny skirts and questionable undies. Although it's a very entertaining look, I don't think it’s for me -or- I'm too chicken to try anything like that just yet. I've seen too many photos of fishnet-print floor burns and wheel-shaped butt bruises to give much consideration to attempting vixen-on-wheels. At this point, I'd completely settle for not-disastrously-uncoordinated!
COMMENTS (harvested from old account)
Mari - 2007-03-02 13:30:21 I think you look really cute in your skirts/tights. Especially that pink striped candy look you had going on last sunday. I'm gonna do the fishnets when we're actually bouting. Over nice thick protective tights and with knee socks. Because, why not? It's fun and what other excuse to I really have to do that. But I'm all about these skirts with the built-in shorts. They look all sassy, but you can't actually show the world anything!
Madame D - 2007-03-04 07:18:41 Oh yes, I totally understand comfort/no pain vs. style. They can KEEP it!
nikki - 2007-03-05 09:49:35 mother fucking elvis on a stick! (love that line!)
Wednesday, February 28, 2007
(a belated) Elvis Wednesday: replacing curse words
Hoo boy. I am apparently on a mission to make a neverending to-do list at work. Last pay period, I worked 44 out of 80 hours. I was either blissfully sleeping off a flu bug or spending time with my lovely sister so I don't regret my absense from the cubicle.
Apparently my cubicle wasn't feeling so amicable. Although I stopped by often enough to keep my plants and Betta (fish named Flipper) alive, my absence was noted.
There are tiny larve of some sort keeping Flipper company in his large glass vase and he's not looking his best. I'm going to have to find time to do a complete water change later on today, which is creepy because I don't have a spare fish bowl for Flipper to stay in while his vase is being cleaned. He swims in my giant mug/bowl I eat oatmeal out of. Also, I'm extremely paranoid that I'll lose him down the sink drain.
One of my peace lillies is now home to a swarm of tiny knats. I think I drowned out thier party pretty effeciently yesterday, but time will tell. My other peace lilly and Madagasgar Dragon Tree look forlorn. My spider plant has always protested living under flourescent lights, but looks really pale and wimpy now. I'll try to take some encouragement from 4 office plants who didn't seem to notice my absence.
I used my computer on Monday and didn't notice anything amiss, perhaps I was imagining the cubicle sabotage?
Nope. On Tuesday morning, before I could even see my deskI could hear my computer (that I'm pretty sure I turned off) whining like a cloud of mosquitos; a horrible, high-pitched EEEEEEeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee.
Tech services swooped in to the rescue, and long story short, after 3 hours of tinkering (when I needed to be working to make deadlines) they've loaned me a temp computer and my harddrive is probably toast. I hadn't backed up my work, and I've got very little work stored on a shared drive. Losing 4 years worth of data? A very real possiblilty.
Fortunately, I was issued a new computer a couple months ago, and tech services has been too busy to wipe out my old hard drive, so at minimum, I'll get most of my data back, and will only
be missing the past few months worth of work.
The idea of loosing a few months worth of work is nearly enough to make me march into the local gay bar (cause the manly barmaid makes a strong mixed drink for $3.25) and announce "take me to your Rum". But, I'm keeping it in perspective, and decided to be creative rather than destructive with my rage.
At the same time, I'm on a mission to stop cursing, because it is neither ladylike, sportsmanlike or "rated G" to curse in a rollerderby situation. And since my team wants to sell lots of tickets, we want to be known for being family entertainment, as in not chanting "crap crap crap crap gonna fall" as you whiz around corners looking like a drunk moose on ice.
So, I present to you the ever-flexible phrase:"Elvis Presley on a stick"
As in
"Elvis Presley on a stick - it's cold out here!"
"Elvis Presley on a stick - my knees hurt!"
"Elvis Presley on a stick - my fishbowl has larve in it!"
"Elvis Presley on a stick - there's a knat condo in that potting soil!"
"Elvis Presley on a stick - that girl tries my patience!"
"Elvis Presley on a stick! Your fart smelled like cat poo!"
"Elvis Presley on a stick - I'm surrounded by nimrods!"
I'd present you with a clever Elvis Presley photo, but my failed harddrive ate it.
F*ckin' computer . . . .
COMMENTS (harvested from old account)
Madame D - 2007-02-28 23:23:17 Damn, I don't envy you cleaning up your language. My favorite all-encompassing term is "fuck!" right now, with the occasional "motherfucker!" thrown in. Not generally aimed at people, either. I tried once. Didn't really work.
-------------------------------
nikki - 2007-03-01 09:43:15 perhaps madame d, you could try "mother fucking elvis on a stick"?
-------------------------------
Catazon - 2007-03-01 09:45:08 I'll have to come up with a phrase myself, because I've started cursing a lot more now that MPOW has decided to block my league's website, houstonrollerderby.com. WTF???
Apparently my cubicle wasn't feeling so amicable. Although I stopped by often enough to keep my plants and Betta (fish named Flipper) alive, my absence was noted.
There are tiny larve of some sort keeping Flipper company in his large glass vase and he's not looking his best. I'm going to have to find time to do a complete water change later on today, which is creepy because I don't have a spare fish bowl for Flipper to stay in while his vase is being cleaned. He swims in my giant mug/bowl I eat oatmeal out of. Also, I'm extremely paranoid that I'll lose him down the sink drain.
One of my peace lillies is now home to a swarm of tiny knats. I think I drowned out thier party pretty effeciently yesterday, but time will tell. My other peace lilly and Madagasgar Dragon Tree look forlorn. My spider plant has always protested living under flourescent lights, but looks really pale and wimpy now. I'll try to take some encouragement from 4 office plants who didn't seem to notice my absence.
I used my computer on Monday and didn't notice anything amiss, perhaps I was imagining the cubicle sabotage?
Nope. On Tuesday morning, before I could even see my deskI could hear my computer (that I'm pretty sure I turned off) whining like a cloud of mosquitos; a horrible, high-pitched EEEEEEeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee.
Tech services swooped in to the rescue, and long story short, after 3 hours of tinkering (when I needed to be working to make deadlines) they've loaned me a temp computer and my harddrive is probably toast. I hadn't backed up my work, and I've got very little work stored on a shared drive. Losing 4 years worth of data? A very real possiblilty.
Fortunately, I was issued a new computer a couple months ago, and tech services has been too busy to wipe out my old hard drive, so at minimum, I'll get most of my data back, and will only
be missing the past few months worth of work.
The idea of loosing a few months worth of work is nearly enough to make me march into the local gay bar (cause the manly barmaid makes a strong mixed drink for $3.25) and announce "take me to your Rum". But, I'm keeping it in perspective, and decided to be creative rather than destructive with my rage.
At the same time, I'm on a mission to stop cursing, because it is neither ladylike, sportsmanlike or "rated G" to curse in a rollerderby situation. And since my team wants to sell lots of tickets, we want to be known for being family entertainment, as in not chanting "crap crap crap crap gonna fall" as you whiz around corners looking like a drunk moose on ice.
So, I present to you the ever-flexible phrase:"Elvis Presley on a stick"
As in
"Elvis Presley on a stick - it's cold out here!"
"Elvis Presley on a stick - my knees hurt!"
"Elvis Presley on a stick - my fishbowl has larve in it!"
"Elvis Presley on a stick - there's a knat condo in that potting soil!"
"Elvis Presley on a stick - that girl tries my patience!"
"Elvis Presley on a stick! Your fart smelled like cat poo!"
"Elvis Presley on a stick - I'm surrounded by nimrods!"
I'd present you with a clever Elvis Presley photo, but my failed harddrive ate it.
F*ckin' computer . . . .
COMMENTS (harvested from old account)
Madame D - 2007-02-28 23:23:17 Damn, I don't envy you cleaning up your language. My favorite all-encompassing term is "fuck!" right now, with the occasional "motherfucker!" thrown in. Not generally aimed at people, either. I tried once. Didn't really work.
-------------------------------
nikki - 2007-03-01 09:43:15 perhaps madame d, you could try "mother fucking elvis on a stick"?
-------------------------------
Catazon - 2007-03-01 09:45:08 I'll have to come up with a phrase myself, because I've started cursing a lot more now that MPOW has decided to block my league's website, houstonrollerderby.com. WTF???
Saturday, February 24, 2007
instagoober: just add rum
Schnikies.
THANK YOU to the tenth power goes to the folks I drank with last night; I had a fantastic time.
My memory is fuzzy as to how I earned my five bar crawl "points" . . . next time I hope to earn more and drink less.
- One pint of Bass with dinner - no biggie
- One rum and (diet) coke and a quiet bar/club - buzz approaching
- One half a rum and diet at a loud bar (with an 80's cover band) - increased buzz, rightfully decide not to put on roller skates.
- One rum and diet a tiny, cozy bar - baouirytarwoi tuaweiog farked up!
THIS is where one of my fellow roller girls in training swooped in, (assisted by our announcer) lead me by my arm to the next bar and suggested that I wanted to drink water. It felt fantastic to be the person being drunk-sat rather than the drunk-sitter, and I probably told her that at least 25 times.
But to reiterate:ThankYouThankYouThankYouThankYou . . . . .
I'm still puzzled as to how I went from mild buzz to total blitz so qiuckly. And I'm completely mystified that I'm not yakking and don't think I'm going to yakk.
I'm off to get ready for a two hour drive to attend a hillbilly festival with my family, so long as no one swings chicken livers under my nose I should be fine. . . . .
Question of the day: What's your favorite hangover remedy?
COMMENTS (harvested from old account)
X Libris - 2007-02-25 14:51:13 Alka-Seltzer. 1 package before you go to sleep (with a large glass of water). 1 package when you wake up (with another large glass of water. Works every time, I prommise.
nikki - 2007-02-26 11:29 i haven't had a hangover since before aaron is born, so i have no advice chicky. glad to hear you had a great time!
Madame D - 2007-02-26 22:12:29 I don't get hangovers, but what is good to do is drink a bunch of water before you go to sleep. Alcohol is a diuretic, and that leads to the headache in the morning.
alfredsmom - 2007-02-27 12:56:21 Taco Bell. :) And, Ive been meaning to say how intrigued I am about this roller girl journey you are on. I have never heard of this. Is there a website that explains it more?
Friday, February 23, 2007
if I could rewind time . . .
. . . I would have weighed myself and measured the circumference of my calves, thighs, hips, waist, ribcage, biceps, forearms, and neck (why leave my neck out?)
I'm convinced that I'm drastically changing shape.
I wasn't at my physical worst a month ago (my physical worst was 7 years ago, perhaps more on that later . . .) but I was certainly in a "hey, what's up with my clothes getting snug?" slump.
Making this even more entertaining is going through this experience with lots of other rollergirls-in-training. It is not uncommon to hear "hey! Feel my ass! It's fantastic!" followed by "Damn! That is fantastic!" (I'm more of a "hey, check out these abs" gal myself).
I attended a short laps practice yesterday with badass-didn't-start-skating-till-30-years-old and another fellow newbie. Badass (and buff) speedy skater pointed out that my kneepads were smaller than hers, and followed that with "well, my legs are bigger than yours . . . um, I think all of me is bigger than you".
Under normal circumstances, the smaller woman would blush, internally gloat and say something along the lines of "oh, I've been dieting/working out/blessed with good genetics"
My response?"Give me a little time, I'll get big too!"
I want to have to buy bigger clothes because my muscles (NOT PUDGE) are stretching seams. I want to be the person that opens stuck jar lids - (sounds humble, but I have crappy wrists). I want to be the person that lifts tillers/mowers/whatever out of vehicles. I want to be the person who can rearrange heavy furniture without assistance.
COMMENTS (harvested from old account)
nikki - 2007-02-23 10:36:46 hey, i got a couch that needs to be moved. do ya think you could help?!?!?!?
-------------------------------
Madame D - 2007-02-24 19:15:57 I'll trade! For as long as I can remember, I've been the jar opener/mover/packmule. I'm actually glad that I can no longer easily pick up my child, making him walk.
I'm convinced that I'm drastically changing shape.
I wasn't at my physical worst a month ago (my physical worst was 7 years ago, perhaps more on that later . . .) but I was certainly in a "hey, what's up with my clothes getting snug?" slump.
Making this even more entertaining is going through this experience with lots of other rollergirls-in-training. It is not uncommon to hear "hey! Feel my ass! It's fantastic!" followed by "Damn! That is fantastic!" (I'm more of a "hey, check out these abs" gal myself).
I attended a short laps practice yesterday with badass-didn't-start-skating-till-30-years-old and another fellow newbie. Badass (and buff) speedy skater pointed out that my kneepads were smaller than hers, and followed that with "well, my legs are bigger than yours . . . um, I think all of me is bigger than you".
Under normal circumstances, the smaller woman would blush, internally gloat and say something along the lines of "oh, I've been dieting/working out/blessed with good genetics"
My response?"Give me a little time, I'll get big too!"
I want to have to buy bigger clothes because my muscles (NOT PUDGE) are stretching seams. I want to be the person that opens stuck jar lids - (sounds humble, but I have crappy wrists). I want to be the person that lifts tillers/mowers/whatever out of vehicles. I want to be the person who can rearrange heavy furniture without assistance.
COMMENTS (harvested from old account)
nikki - 2007-02-23 10:36:46 hey, i got a couch that needs to be moved. do ya think you could help?!?!?!?
-------------------------------
Madame D - 2007-02-24 19:15:57 I'll trade! For as long as I can remember, I've been the jar opener/mover/packmule. I'm actually glad that I can no longer easily pick up my child, making him walk.
Thursday, February 22, 2007
postcard from the edge
Dear Diaryland, (I used to blog there, this is my archive)
You suck. I'm so tired of all the spam that I'm tempted to ask for my money back. I am really not impressed.
regards,
Betti
Dear Readers,
I miss posting to this blog and reading your blogs. I'm hella busy now training to be a rollergirl and keeping up with my new responsibilities at work. Promotions are cool on payday, but on other days it can be a bit of a drag to have to constantly navigate unfamiliar territory. Well, not constantly, but I was really comfy in my old rut.
Super short update:
1) I think I'm getting stronger!
2) My skating has improved, and I'm still giddy about derby training.
3) Promotions at work are both cool and sucky.
4) All my pets are happy and healthy - hooray!
5) My sister RULES for helping me de-clutter my kitchen, talk about _love_.
6) I'm going to seriously flip the bitch switch if Mr. Hubby doesn't quit "cheating" in his quest to stop smoking cigarettes.
7) No really, it's driving me nuts. To the point that I'm telling the blogosphere about it.
8) I want to catch up with my blog-reading very soon, I feel very out-of-the-loop.
Smooches,
Betti
COMMENTS (harvested from old account)
Mari - 2007-02-22 11:20:42 Rollergirls drink tomorrow night! Open skate?
-------------------------------
nikki - 2007-02-22 13:22:43 glad to hear you are alive and well. go kick some roller derby butt!-------------------------------
Madame D - 2007-02-23 00:03:11 Doesn't he realize that the whole rollergirl thing is just going to make you more badass, and capable of kicking his still-smoking butt?
-------------------------------
Tony - 2007-02-23 09:36:13 Tell Mr. Hubby I'm going to come over and jam a pencil in his ear in his sleep if he doesn't cut it out. (This threat actually worked when he lived with me.) Crawl with you later!
You suck. I'm so tired of all the spam that I'm tempted to ask for my money back. I am really not impressed.
regards,
Betti
Dear Readers,
I miss posting to this blog and reading your blogs. I'm hella busy now training to be a rollergirl and keeping up with my new responsibilities at work. Promotions are cool on payday, but on other days it can be a bit of a drag to have to constantly navigate unfamiliar territory. Well, not constantly, but I was really comfy in my old rut.
Super short update:
1) I think I'm getting stronger!
2) My skating has improved, and I'm still giddy about derby training.
3) Promotions at work are both cool and sucky.
4) All my pets are happy and healthy - hooray!
5) My sister RULES for helping me de-clutter my kitchen, talk about _love_.
6) I'm going to seriously flip the bitch switch if Mr. Hubby doesn't quit "cheating" in his quest to stop smoking cigarettes.
7) No really, it's driving me nuts. To the point that I'm telling the blogosphere about it.
8) I want to catch up with my blog-reading very soon, I feel very out-of-the-loop.
Smooches,
Betti
COMMENTS (harvested from old account)
Mari - 2007-02-22 11:20:42 Rollergirls drink tomorrow night! Open skate?
-------------------------------
nikki - 2007-02-22 13:22:43 glad to hear you are alive and well. go kick some roller derby butt!-------------------------------
Madame D - 2007-02-23 00:03:11 Doesn't he realize that the whole rollergirl thing is just going to make you more badass, and capable of kicking his still-smoking butt?
-------------------------------
Tony - 2007-02-23 09:36:13 Tell Mr. Hubby I'm going to come over and jam a pencil in his ear in his sleep if he doesn't cut it out. (This threat actually worked when he lived with me.) Crawl with you later!
Thursday, February 15, 2007
a quick(ish) post
1) Yep, I'm alive and hopefully almost over nasty-cold-of-February-2007. I spent to last two days at home due to bad weather and feeling gross. I had the attention span of a knat, which is alright when you're mostly interested in sleeping all day. Also explains why I was such a space cadet at practice on Sunday and at work on Monday . . .
2) My apologies to the Wednesday-Elvis seekers, my home computer is frazzled by the task of uploading new photos. Again, I was interested in sleeping all day, not playing tech geek.
3) We _did_ lose electricity at our house for 6 hours on Tuesday, I must have slept through the first half hour or so. The crock pot was still warm, and thankfully, the water in our fishtank was still warm. I covered it with lots of blankets and the zebra danias and the snail colony survived. The live plants didn't seem aversly affected by the chill either.
4) I did lose some cactus plants but don't have the heart to put them out on the compost pile just yet. They still look alive-ish, but their innards are mush. Given that I have too many houseplants, it's not really a tragic loss, but is a bit of a bummer. Some of them were getting to be the size of submarine sandwiches, and I had raised them up from tiny little golfball-size cacti.
5) I skated last night (yeah, I know that people who are too sick to attend work from 8-5 shouldn't be well enough to skate from 7-9, but nyeeeeeeeh) and kicked some arse, at the expense of wiping out a few times. I learned the painful way that I was not wearing my hip pads in the right position. I don't think I did anything truly nasty to myself, but my left hip, and left shoulder have certainly felt better.
I'm feeling pretty badass about my injury because I earned it while trying to complete an intimidating task: skate 20 (or more) laps in 5 minutes. I wiped out about 2 minutes in and got back up quickly, then wiped out again after another 2 minutes and fell a third time as I was getting up from my second fall. In my defense, the floor was slicker than snot (something to do with cold temperature on the old basketball court floor) and I had no clue that I wasn't running behind. I managed 22 laps - happy dance!!! I still have to improve my "get around the turn quickly" technique so I can skate 5 laps in one minute, I missed that goal by 5(?) seconds. I didn't expect to make it, so I'm not particularly dissapointed.
I was so sad for another derbygirl who missed that goal by only 2 seconds, the look on her face nearly brought tears to my eyes. (I can be such a sympathetic wuss!) Later on, she did almost 25 laps in five minutes, so I know she'll succeed next time we're tested.
6) Gotta catch up on a metric ton of office work, probably won't have time to stop by other blogs since I'll be hanging out with my sister tomorrow. Hooray!!
smooches,
Betti
2) My apologies to the Wednesday-Elvis seekers, my home computer is frazzled by the task of uploading new photos. Again, I was interested in sleeping all day, not playing tech geek.
3) We _did_ lose electricity at our house for 6 hours on Tuesday, I must have slept through the first half hour or so. The crock pot was still warm, and thankfully, the water in our fishtank was still warm. I covered it with lots of blankets and the zebra danias and the snail colony survived. The live plants didn't seem aversly affected by the chill either.
4) I did lose some cactus plants but don't have the heart to put them out on the compost pile just yet. They still look alive-ish, but their innards are mush. Given that I have too many houseplants, it's not really a tragic loss, but is a bit of a bummer. Some of them were getting to be the size of submarine sandwiches, and I had raised them up from tiny little golfball-size cacti.
5) I skated last night (yeah, I know that people who are too sick to attend work from 8-5 shouldn't be well enough to skate from 7-9, but nyeeeeeeeh) and kicked some arse, at the expense of wiping out a few times. I learned the painful way that I was not wearing my hip pads in the right position. I don't think I did anything truly nasty to myself, but my left hip, and left shoulder have certainly felt better.
I'm feeling pretty badass about my injury because I earned it while trying to complete an intimidating task: skate 20 (or more) laps in 5 minutes. I wiped out about 2 minutes in and got back up quickly, then wiped out again after another 2 minutes and fell a third time as I was getting up from my second fall. In my defense, the floor was slicker than snot (something to do with cold temperature on the old basketball court floor) and I had no clue that I wasn't running behind. I managed 22 laps - happy dance!!! I still have to improve my "get around the turn quickly" technique so I can skate 5 laps in one minute, I missed that goal by 5(?) seconds. I didn't expect to make it, so I'm not particularly dissapointed.
I was so sad for another derbygirl who missed that goal by only 2 seconds, the look on her face nearly brought tears to my eyes. (I can be such a sympathetic wuss!) Later on, she did almost 25 laps in five minutes, so I know she'll succeed next time we're tested.
6) Gotta catch up on a metric ton of office work, probably won't have time to stop by other blogs since I'll be hanging out with my sister tomorrow. Hooray!!
smooches,
Betti
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)