Sunday, October 04, 2009

Some Stuff, From Lately (this post brought to you by Pregnancy Brain)

"Mommy! A deer! I'm scared because it will eat me."

"No, it's okay, deer don't eat people."

"Only goats eat people?"


33.5 weeks. Measuring normal size. Still eliciting untold numbers of borderline rude comments from passers by, more than last time, I believe. Doing a moderately good job of following low carb diet. People seem horrified at the idea of having to do fingersticks four times a day. That is not the problem. Here is the problem: not eating carbs.

In retrospect, I feel like I may have had some insulin resistance the first time also that just developed a bit later. See: 1st baby born at 95th percentile and quite puffy.


"[kid at daycare] was making poor choices at naptime!"

"What did he do?"

"Made poor choices."


Activity Update

Soccer = not as fun as it could be. Dylan seems to be taking what I think of as the Aaron approach to rowdy groups of fellow-children participating in organized sports, which involves patiently waiting for the herd to pass safely by, then slowly and deliberately doing whatever was asked of her. Or grabbing the ball with her hands so it doesn't get away. Really it's just too late in the day and she's sort of done by then. I think we'll wait a couple years to do anything like this again.

Swimming = another story for another day.


I got asked to review a paper, like a real grown up scientist. It was...bad. I said so nicely though, with suggestions on how to be less bad. That's how I talk to Aaron too, when I have suggestions about his status in the marriage, occasionally with a written report. Am thoughtful.


The Heat is On

We stuck out a full week of really awful 40-degree rainy whether before breaking down whimpering and heating the home. We made it to October, good enough.


"I think she needs a size 8, but these look too big."

"Oh, we use UK sizes. I don't know where you got her measured [myself, via a printout from the Internet, but I am sure I am right as she has outgrown the size 7, yet the size 9 is too big] but I will have to remeasure her feet."

[Also don't you just subtract a size? And that = UK size?]

The nice man measures Dylan's feet, which she thinks is quite cool.

"She'll need a 7."

Goes to get the ones I asked for. Has none of them, tries to convince me that really, going half a size too small is actually a wise idea for kids' shoes anyway.


Might Dylan suggest these helpful questions to lead your discussion group?

Why deer no eat people, Mommy?
Why baby brother not coming out yet, Mommy?
Why you checking your blood, Mommy? Can I watch?
Why he make poor choices?
Why we going to soccer? Why we not going to swimming?
Why you need to go to work?
Why I need to wear pants?
Why I need new shoes?
Mommy, why you head hurt? Do you need medicine? Can I have medicine?

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