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

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.

Dear Tomorrow:

Today my hair was really greasy. I mean, so greasy my fingers could barely tolerate a run-through. I cringed when someone commented sweetly, "I like your hair, Miss Winterhalter." Eeewww.

Students gaped at me after I asked the question, "Does that make sense" in several different ways, over a period of at least three minutes. Gaped. Gawked. Glared.

"Are you serious?" I responded.

Yawn. Glare. Yawn.

"Let's start over, then," I said.

My biggest disappointment so far: a cheater. Not your general, write-the-answers-on-my-hand-and-sneak-a-look kind of cheating. The raw meat, plagiarism kind of cheating. A whole paper. Do I look that stupid? Do they not realize that if they buy an essay off of the internet, I can easily find that essay on the internet, too, with a simple Google search? What makes students so desperate that they feel they need to cheat so ignorantly? At least make an effort to be a little more covert, a little more subtle. Don't insult my intelligence.

Tomorrow, I need to borrow some things from you. Actually, not borrow--receive--because I'm not going to give them back. 1) Gym... it's time to tear up the treadmill. 2) Patience and grace for me and my students. 3) A real fantastic premier of the Office. Don't let me down.

Yours,

Am