Woman, believe me

Today I went to Angel's baby shower. She's having a baby girl, Grace Amanah. Kind of like... Amanda, but not (she and Ross are secretly naming the baby after me*).

There were three pregnant women at the party (and several non-pregnant women), an array of mini quiches and mini sandwiches, and lots of games having something to do with babies or being pregnant.

I won a game. Of course you want to know what I had to do to win, don't you? I guzzled several ounces of 7-up from a baby bottle faster than four other women. Honestly, it felt kind of creepy and a little dirty as people were taking pictures of me avidly sucking liquid from a rubber nipple. But I won a cool prize, so let's call it good and forget it ever happened.

I also smelled some daipers with melted candy bars in them. No, I did not visit a cult gathering today.

The shower was great and I got to meet two amazing women who I had heard about but never officially met: Margot and Kelsey. Both have beautiful babies and are obviously wonderful moms.

I love meeting moms. I love meeting pregnant women. I love hearing about their food cravings, how sick they get in the morning, how often they have to pee, what position they sleep in at night. I am crazy.

I don't want, or plan to have a baby for a long, long time (if ever). In fact, if you know me well, you know that I would rather adopt than conceive and labor a baby from my own loins. I just used the word loins. Do women have loins?

But I lOVE hearing about what it's like to be pregnant and have a baby. I love watching moms interact with their children (most of the time). I often ask women I don't even know very well if they had a natural birth, a drugged birth, or a Caesarean. I also ask women I don't know very well what kind of birth they plan to have. Water births fascinate me.

Certain stories, anecdotes, or tales of traditions make me look forward to having my own family someday. I get really, really excited.

I once had a dream that I was pregnant. My face was pretty, my belly was huge and my heart was anxious. I did not want to have the baby. I wanted it to stay in forever because I didn't want to go through the pain of the labor. Then I found myself in a hospital bed laying on my side, fully dressed and having my baby; it was over so fast and it didn't hurt at all. I slurred out loud, "That was so easy! I can have tons of babies this way!" And then I woke up.


*some statements may not reflect reality

Sabbath

My cheeks feel the prick of a cold room and I wake up.

I sit up in bed and peruse a Vegetarian cookbook. The Sheharazad Casserole and Spinach and Feta Pie look good. Everything looks good. I grab a journal and begin a grocery list, then I get hungry.

After breakfast, I pull on jeans and a sweatshirt. I wrap a red knit scarf three times around my neck and fasten the toggles on my white coat. My brown beret pushes my bangs into my eyes, but that's ok.

The drive downtown is easy and the sidewalks are still waking up. I park and meet Katy at Batdorf & Bronson for tea. We talk about our students, our theology, our everything. She has a British accent and I'm still unsure how to say Batdorf... or is it Bardorf? I can't tell, but she says it so musically. I suppose I could just read the sign.

We buy tea at the Tea Lady store and leave downtown to have more tea at her house. I meet Katy's husband, Dan, and we sit in the living room listening to music, talking about music, and looking at her artwork. It feels like home.

Soon it's late afternoon, and Katy and I have shopping to do. We walk three blocks down the road to the Food Co-op. It's my first time buying groceries here. It's a small store, and I'm surprised to hear rap music bumping in the small store speakers. I pick out my produce and write down the PLU numbers in my journal, next to my grocery list. Some things I will buy at Safeway because I can't justify the price difference. But I like knowing that I'm supporting our local farmers in some small way here.

Browsing through the bulk, I see a container marked "Wiccan Women's Brew." Nice. Why don't they just write, "Witch's Brew"? Ingredients: one eye of newt, three dragon scales, the blood of an unhatched chick, fennel seeds, and monosodiumglutimate.

I become a member and check out, two bags full of greenery and some self-righteous pleasure. We walk home and decide to carpool to work on Monday. Excellent.

I make Sweet Potato Pancakes and Grilled Pineapple for dinner. I sit and watch a movie. I blog.

As I turn the light off, I remember the verdant smell of fresh parsley in the back seat of my car on the drive home.

God's Speed

Is it common knowledge that once a woman reaches the age of 49, she loses the ability to make decisions in under 11 minutes?

Sometimes I have no patience for people who can't make decisions quickly.
who forget small, but important, details.
who slow down when the light is still green.
who cry in front of large groups of people.
who have no awareness of other people.
who don't turn their assignments in and try to make me feel guilty for their irresponsibility.
who don't use commas, who use commas incorrectly, or who hate commas.
who can't read my mind when I want them to.

You want to be my friend now, don't you?

Tonight I wanted to come home, lie in a heap on the floor, fall asleep for 12 hours and have a dream about watching a good movie & consuming 1 lb. of jalapeno chips and 2 pints of Chubby Hubby. And a brownie. Dreams don't have calories.

I did something similar, with more calories. Now I'm going to complete the task, put my head down on the pillow and confess my sins.

Good night and God speed.