Miss Minty Fresh

Apparently this blogger thinks I’m that girl.

Well, me and many, many others who have a personal blog, that is.  I would prefer to actually remember a delicious little loaf of brioche that I shared with my husband on a rainy Sunday afternoon.

Ben just left for his new gig (or as I’ve been calling it, The Circus) this past weekend; it’s putting him on the road for the next seven weeks or so.  While this is obviously not very good timing (he’s coming back less than a week before the due date), it does mean that I can take up the whole bed, work as late as I need to, and listen to the Phillies game without worrying that I’m bothering him (although I do think he’s learned to enjoy Scott and LA by now).  This should be our last time we need to be separated at length while he’s working, so we can certainly deal with this last brief stint.

 I have to say though:  he’s been gone for less than 24 hours and miss him already.

Who am I kidding?  I missed him before he even got in the car.

Safe travels, dearest!

Miss Minty

It’s thirty weeks in

And when I look down, I sigh,

“Goodbye, feet.  For now.”

…I scored over 200 points in Scrabble* for the first time in my freaking life.

Fluke or not, I’m proud.

On a more somber note, Ben is heading out of town next weekend for his new gig with The Circus.  He’ll be away for about eight weeks, returning the week before the little dude is scheduled to make his first appearance.  

It’s of course crappy timing but also incredible timing, as this new gig will be supporting our little family of cats and humans while I’m on maternity leave and beyond as well (we still have no idea if I’m eligible to legally work in Canada past the first week of September).  I hate seeing him go but I’m grateful that our future has finally turned in the direction of stability.  It feels awesome.

Miss Minty 

Toronto’s an expensive place, and I’m pregnant, so it hasn’t taken much effort to mostly lay low and be homebodies.  I did take the bicycle out for a spin several Sundays ago, big belly be damned.  Fortunately, no one here speaks to strangers so I didn’t have to deal with any disapproving clucking about being visibly pregnant and riding a bike.

The view from above at 22 weeks gestation:

My super-comfortable lady bike:

Snicker:

I can tell my internal thermometer is off at this stage in the pregnancy game (and not just because it operates in Fahrenheit)…I’m hot almost constantly.  But despite that, I can tell that the Big Heat of summer is past us.  The air already feels a little bit different.  Bring it on, autumn-in-Canada…your arrival means I’m that much closer to meeting my little dude.

Miss Minty

Love you, Philadelphia.

Hi baby boy,

Before I begin, I wanted to ask you to stop poking your foot into my ribcage; you’ve been at it for the last couple days.  Thanks little dude.

Your dad and I named you a few weeks ago, but I didn’t want to post anything about it until we were really, really sure.  

Kai Apollo.  

Every time I say it to myself I want to smile really widely.  It goes so well with your dad’s last name; almost sing-songy, really.  

Kai was my contribution. It brings to mind a dreadheaded mandolin player who prefers to not wear shoes and likes to hug people.  Maybe it’s just to my mind, but regardless, I like the image it conjures.  This guy’s name is John, but to me, he’s a Kai. 

Apollo was your dad’s idea; representing music and reason in one made-up-but-iconic entity was right up our alley.  Did you know that Apollo is also god of the plague?  Fun!  Additionally, we learned via one of our nerdy podcasts that two of the inscriptions on Apollo’s temple at Delphi read:

“Know thyself” and “Nothing in excess”.

Rather appropriate for our family.  You’ll see when you get here.

Love, 

Mama

I have a thing for elephants.

I collected elephant figurines when I was young; I suppose it’s fair to say I still do. I have always been fascinated and charmed by those big grey critters.

I had this adorable little guy above for years. He’s one of the few elephant figurines that usually moved with me because I loved him so much. He took quite a beating though; broken and reglued and broken again, chips…poor guy. With cats and soon, a baby in the house, he didn’t stand a chance of remaining in one piece for long.

You may notice a tinge of anthropomorphism here. I’ve always been hesitant to throw inanimate objects away. What is it about mere objects that makes some humans loath to part with them? For fear of something ridiculous like hurting its feelings and feeling sorry for it? How exactly does one create such absurd and unrealistic patterns of thought?  Why do we learn to assign personalities to things that aren’t even alive, let alone capable of emotions?  No wonder we get materially bogged down over the course of our lives; it certainly happened to me until some new viewpoints helped me reach a new level of understanding with my stuff. Experiences and the day-to-day and my pictures documenting our life are now replacing “things” and “stuff” as my truly precious possessions, and I’m proud for making that distinction. It’s a slow process, and I have a ways to go, but looking back over the past year of my life, I see definite progress.

I let the elephant figurine go the other day, and I have to admit I do feel a little sad, but I recognize that I am not lacking because I no longer am in possession of it.  Slow and steady wins this non-race.

This past weekend marked the 27th week of pregnancy.  The so-called easy/happy/sexy/comfortable trimester is over, and I can tell.  I’ve experienced a couple bouts of heartburn (first time ever….ugh!); I am feeling positively NOT graceful in movement (“lumbering” is one adjective that comes to mind); and my RIBS…oh my ribs.  They really hurt.  The baby is kicking them, and they seem to be expanding.  Among other things.

Speaking of baby movements, on some days his presence is barely discernable (that I can feel) and other days (like today) completely obvious.  I can tell he’s geting bigger and stronger and that his bones are hardening from the soft tissue they once were.  Ouch!  Like his parents, he seems to hit his stride around 8PM or so.

Emotionally, I felt pretty darn awesome the entire first trimester and mostly good during the second trimester.  Now though, between the uncertainty of my visa (and thus uncertainty of maintaining heath insurance, having some pay for maternity leave, and having a job at all), the prospect of Ben going away for work (someone has to support the family in full if I am legally barred from doing so), and the rather upsetting changes in my body, I’m no longer full of sunshine and rainbows and shit.  It’s a little too easy to get weepy for no good reason.

Even though I’m not feeling my best most days, it’s nice to be reminded that someone still thinks I’m cute:

Only three more months to go!

Miss Minty