Sunday, September 23, 2012


This is Syd pretending to be me at work. I love how she nailed the bored, far-off stare...

Friday, September 21, 2012


We got an inmate on the unit a couple months ago, and on the first day he was assigned to someone else's caseload. As I walked past his cell he called me over and asked, "Do you like Linkin Park?" I gave some vague, short answer because this type of question is usually a lead in to, "Hey, what's this is in my hand?! So sorry, I didn't see you there. Please keep talking." Eww.

A few weeks later, this inmate was still on the unit, and he again called me over. "Hey, aren't you the one I was asking about Linkin Park? You never answered." So I gave another vague, but less defensive answer because if you're there that long, it's usually because you're crazy. Something along the lines of "Yeah. They're pretty good. Why do you ask?" Then I went to my office and Googled "Linkin Park" because I'm not really as cool as people think I am.

The next day he was on my caseload, which gave me the opportunity to figure out what this guy's obsession with Linkin Park is. Turns out, he's not all that into them, but he "knows" that I used to hang with them, and he was letting me know that my secret was safe. Apparently I'm WAY cooler than people think I am.

This dude kept this up for several more weeks. Never outright saying it, but always alluding the idea that I had this shady past hanging out with drug dealers/musicians. I wasn't even a groupie, but more a member of their inner circle. And then I hung that all up to talk people out of eating paperclips and smearing shit on the windows. Living the dream...

Reason #4567 that my job rocks: I'm pretty fucking awesome in other people's delusions.

Thursday, September 20, 2012

For future reference

Because apparently there's no such thing as too neurotic in my universe, I'm now obsessing about, ready for this?, not getting fat enough. So I present photographic evidence that I am in fact rotund, and ask that you slap me across the face with it four months from now.

Thursday, September 13, 2012


A totally impulsive decision that worked out pretty well, if I do say so myself.

Side note: Did you know that at the cheap place with the sails, they have to charge extra if they brush your hair? Chick had to sneak the brush over and then hide it behind my purse.

Tuesday, September 11, 2012

Honest Woman

I had to pry my ring off this morning, and it wasn't pretty. Apparently with your third your wedding ring shrinks. That has to be it, because there's no way my fingers swelled up that much in four months. Ten bucks later and I'm an honest woman again.

Sunday, September 9, 2012

Three years later

Excuse the radio silence, but you know how it is when you're trying not to talk about something? Baby Waldo was a bit like that. We had a bit of a rough start. But now that we're solidly past the first trimester, I'm hugely showing, and I've started to feel the tiny rolls that suggest it's not just a food-baby, I feel like I can publicly document Waldo's introduction to our family.

On the fourth of July we started thinking, "Hmmmm." July 7th and we were thinking, "Oh crap! What have we done?" I called to make the doctor's appointment and laughed when we couldn't find a day that didn't conflict with my vacation plans. "Ha ha! This isn't my first rodeo! Remember with Eli I was practically sitting in front of the office for six weeks?" We scheduled our first appointment for the Friday before our epic road trip.

Fast forward to that appointment. The doctor was lovely. I smugly reported that I'd been feeling great! Can I keep training for my 10K? Oh no, this isn't my first. This'll be number three. Yep, a six year old and a two year old. How many pregnancies? Three. Wait. Four. Oh.

That one. We don't talk about That one. It was three years ago. Six weeks pregnant and excited to give Eli a little brother or sister. C, Eli, and I went on a road trip to Duluth, where we had grand plans of seeing the Great Lakes and the Duluth Zoo. On the way up, C and I joked that we needed to come up with a nickname for this one before he/she was forever branded "New one." We stayed in some hotel that had vacancies when we pulled in at 9:00 that night. The next morning I ran downstairs to grab breakfast before they closed up the donut cases. For some reason there wasn't an elevator. Walking back up the stairs, balancing plates of donuts, waffles, and orange juice glasses I had an unmistakable feeling. Back in the room I quietly put down the plates and went to the bathroom. There, staring at the yellow speckled linoleum peeling on the floor, I knew. I frantically tried to convince myself otherwise, but I knew. We called the doctor and they gave us the generic, "Nothing we can do. Keep your feet up. Hope for the best. Go to the hospital if..."

For some reason, probably hoping that normalcy would change reality, we didn't cut our trip short. C and Eli went to the Zoo while I laid in bed with my feet as high as I could get them. We drove by the Great Lakes and C brought a cup of the water to the car so I could feel how cold it was. I cried, a lot. I remember thinking that I hadn't "earned" the right to be this sad, that we'd only just found out about this little being of potential, that I'd never truly understood grief before. Finally home, I continued to cry. There kept being this sliver of hope, this chorus of "Too early for a heartbeat" and "it might be fines." But we knew. And the tests confirmed it. We cried, we grieved, and three weeks later (against conventional advice) we were pregnant with Syd. You all know how that turned out.

All that came rushing back as I sat in the doctor's office, waiting for the big reveal. The doctor pulled out the ultrasound and, somewhat apologetically said, "I prefer to jump right in and we can talk about the other stuff after." And I flippantly said, "Let's make sure there's someone in there." She started the ultrasound and there was silence. And more silence. She told me not to judge anything by her face and I told her that I knew what we weren't seeing. She finished and apologized, saying that it was still a little early but that it didn't look good. Come in for the tests. Your trip isn't timed well. I'd be cautious about telling people unless you want the extra support. Go to the hospital if...

That appointment was three years, almost to the day, after that weekend in Duluth. Another weekend, this time just waiting. More tests. More waiting. Bracing myself for what may be coming. And then, an e-mail on Monday morning saying, "Your tests look great. Let's do a better ultrasound." And then Monday afternoon, in a darkened room, with a tech and I both making polite chitchat and avoiding the elephant in the room, there was Waldo. Heart beating like a tiny little beacon. Strong and clear.

I was so relieved I almost puked. Although that might have been the morning sickness, which hit with a vengeance the next day.

Thursday, September 6, 2012

Monday, September 3, 2012

Guess I'll keep him...

"I love all that you have done for me Thank you Mom I Love You sooooooooooooooooo MUCH!"