The Naming of She-Blob, Part 5 of Several

More contenders....

Tynella - suggested by our friend Ty, who says he's responsible for bringing me and Bree together. We decided to give a shout-out to his wife Janelle, as well.

Analy - suggested by a friend who likes "Nataly" and wanted a variation on the theme.

Corteen - suggested by our friend Steve in honor of the street he and Bree grew up on.

Radburn - suggested by my friend Jessica in honor of the neighborhood in Fair Lawn.

Corvi - suggested by me, in honor of the painting Bree got me for my birthday. It means "crows."

The field is still wide open.

Gifted

This weekend, the non-baby shower, 3 months in the making, was had. Throughout the past few months, decision had been made, wheels had been set into motion, registries had been agonized over and selected, and now there no turning back from the inevitable.

There were certainly some minor hiccups in the plan - for one thing, back in April when we decided that we wanted to hold the festivities at our house, we had not accounted for the fact that by the time our 40+ guests arrived in June, our "kitchen" would be a gaping hole with bare plank floor and exposed electrical sockets, accented with more holes and plastic sheeting reminiscent of hazardous waste areas or that weird room the kept E.T. in for all those experiments.

We also couldn't have predicted that the weather would be a balmy 111 degrees, making the back-up plan of having the party outside about as viable as ice skating in the 9th circle of Hell. But we were not to be deterred.

Jessica, arriving from NYC in a flurry of activity, decided she was single-handedly going to overcompensate not only for her absent co-hostess Kate (who is off chasing tornadoes right now - no joke) but for everyone else who had ever planned a party anywhere.

I was happily along for the ride as food was ordered, a color scheme selected (and immediately abandoned when we discovered that Party City does not party in shades of brown or jungle motif), poems were attached with ribbons around mini (the only shout-out to babies) palms, balloons were purchased and strategically placed in front of the aforementioned haz-mat sheeting in an effort to disguise or at least distract from it. A trick that for reasons that defy logic seemed to work.

When Saturday, the food, the cake, and, most importantly, the booze arrived it almost looked like we had meant to have a party. The margaritas were mixed, the guests were in place, my dog heroically withstood the heat and prodding of 4 toddlers (one of whom also amused himself by trying to eat our glass coasters and sticking his fingers in electrical sockets), and by all accounts it seems that a good time was had by all.

I thrilled to the lack of shower games! I relished the fact that I didn't have to open gifts in front of a throng of people! I basked in the absence of pink ribbons! But even more importantly, I glowed in the presence of so many friends and family who had traveled from near and far to be with us and celebrate She-Blob.

***

Sunday afternoon, nearly 24 hours after the guests had departed, Bree and I stood in our backyard, hose in hand, surveying the damage. We were sweaty and tired. Literally barefoot and pregnant, I sported a white wife-beater. As we did dishes on our lawn, occasionally spraying each other down with the hose to cool off, we had to laugh. In spite of better judgement, we'd pulled it off. And got some cool-ass swag to boot!

Last Blast, or, Goat Farming in Harmony

This was our last pack-of-3 hurrah. Friday, Bree, Foster and I left the cares of city life behind for a weekend of seaside walks, wine tasting and window shopping in Cambria and Paso Robles. It's a trip we've been planning for months, complete with a scenic drive and an inn that caters to our 4-legged charge.

Escaping the beginning of oppressive LA summer, we made our way north. It was a lovely meander up the coast with a stop-over in Santa Barbara for the dog to walk and us to eat. The Cambria Shores in was fantastic and extremely dog friendly, with Foster enjoying the rare chance to sleep in bed with us. Or rather, on us.

We tasted wine (and bought too much, and joined a wine club); we walked along the beach (and Foz confronted, and overcame, his fear of boardwalks); we had extravagant picnics overlooking oceans and vineyards; we watched a flock of vultures have an extravagant picnic eating deer carrion in a vineyard; we saw elephant seals (and took too many photos of them); we got over-run with squirrel-like beach creatures, who may or may not have been rabid, but were certainly fearless; we drank more wine.

Somewhere along the way, as we made our slow drive back to the heat of LA and the Black Hole of our kitchen, that what we really needed to do is start a goat farm in Harmony, CA. Current population, 18. Soon to be 21 if we move there. Plus one dog.

Black Hole

This isn't really a She-Blob adventure, so much as one for her parents-to-be. Still, living in the womb, she's along for the ride.

In short:

There is a hole where the kitchen used to be.
There are holes in the walls of the hole where the kitchen used to be.
We have erected a "kitchen" in the dining room, using the old kitchen island and whatever appliances happen to plug into an outlet.
We have no sink. We wash dishes in the bathroom.
An unskilled tracker could find us, using the plaster trails we leave throughout the house.
Our lives revolve around picking out appliances and faucets.
In a little over a week, we're planning to host a party for 40+ people here.

We're nuts.

She-Blob Does Colorado

It's kinda like Debbie Does Dallas minus the porn factor. Again, am I saying too much?

This weekend, She-Blob took in the wonders of traveling to foreign lands (well, at least foreign states), natural landmarks, and family weddings. All from the added comfort of a mini van. That's right - after renting a sub-compact and a long sales pitch convincing us to upgrade to an SUV, we discovered that what we'd be driving off the lot was a Chrysler Town & Country. Now, there is NOTHING "Town" about the Town & Country. Instead, it's 3 rows of bench seating, sufficient space to start your own shuttle service. On the upside, Clovie (as we christened her) did remind us of a hippo, both in shape and color.

After a day of taking in the natural beauty of Garden of the Gods and the relief of finding a Starbucks after getting lost on the Colorado Springs back roads, we assembled as a large group of extended and blended family to see Bree's sister, Erica, tie the knot. Decked out in the one formal-ish dress that still fits, and insufficiently disguised by a fish-net shawl that Bree had purchased for me for the occasion, I hid in endless family photos, ate too much cake and sipped my allotted glass of wine. In short, celebrated with the best of 'em.

Flying home, I thought meaningful thoughts about our multifaceted, multicultural, expanding extended family. And how we definitely weren't getting a mini-van. She-Blob just slept.

Saying Too Much

I admit, sometimes the drawbridge between brain and mouth doesn't operate as well and quickly as one would hope. Beyond hearing myself say occasionally inappropriate things with no control to stop it, I also tend to share too much. This blog is evidence there-of.

Last night we had dinner with friends, and as often happens, I got the full pregnancy questionnaire. What does it feel like? Is it weird?

The thing is, there are "acceptable" answers to all these questions.

Yes, the pregnancy is going well - (this is very very true);

I feel SO BLESSED to be carrying life inside me - (do NOT mention my views on the alien/parasitic nature of babies, or that at times I think pregnancy is downright unnatural);

Yes, they do move inside you but it's just soooooooo cute - (don't talk about the part where they have sharp elbows and knees, which they like to use at night);

I LOVE my new, pregnant form. It is just so beautiful - (don't say A WORD about how you're now rotating through 3 pairs of pants and 4 t-shirts that still fit, refusing to buy maternity clothes, and feeling like a baleen whale);

I can't wait until we start classes to learn about how I'll bring my precious bundle into the world - (forget to explain how I chose the class based on the fact that I could complete it in the least number of sessions);

Baby things are SOOOOOOO cute - (except for the ones I don't comprehend, and the breast pump which, if it's only half as terrifying as it looks, belongs in the next installment of the Saw movie torture scenes);

Newborns are adorable - (have you seen any photos of newborns lately? I've seen mine, and let me tell you, I wasn't going to be winning any beauty pageants).

Ok, so maybe I should just smile, nod, and tell people the "truth" they want to hear...

The Naming of She-Blob, Part 4 of Several

Some more contenders enter the ring...

Alexandra - courtesy of my mother-in-law

Venus - courtesy of my father-in-law