Dancing to induce labor

Posted by random olio

Yes babies are on the mind. I am growing fast and my belly will not stop itching which leads me to believe that this little boy is growing fast inside me. Of course as things become a major focus in your life you begin to see certain ideas everywhere. Such as the recent pop-up (for me) of pregnancy videos of women trying to induce labor. I have been told so many things in recent weeks. Making eggplant parmesan, using castor oil, sex, and dancing — like this mom-to-be that dances to Thriller:

I can promise you that I will not be creating a YouTube video that can be shared millions of times of my belly (in the hospital or at home) while I try to bring this ‘lil man into the world. I have no skills on the dance floor, and while I might try yoga moves, sex, or a massage — making my YouTube debut is not one of them. Also, you can spend quite a bit of time just searching “videos” of pregnant moms sharing their dance to induce videos. You will see songs, bellies, and dance moves of all shapes and sizes.

#Iamnotdancingforyou

Boy + Dog + Dad = Thrilled

Posted by random olio

There is a lot of my childhood I do not remember. Since my parents are no longer around it is hard to know what I was truly like as a baby, toddler, or even as I got older. Was I quiet, or sassy? Did I talk a lot? What was I like with my parents? Did I like to cuddle? I think about all of these things as I begin to think about the little boy who is going to join our family in around 10 weeks.

I have no idea if I got excited to see my parents when they came home from being away. I do remember we had three large picture windows in our front room (filled with plants) but still giving me access to look out the window at the trash truck, or my dad’s pickup truck arriving home. This video I found recently brought a huge smile to my face. While my house is not designed for a visible window/door to the driveway/garage, I hope regardless my son gets just as excited to see me.

https://youtu.be/APnKowuUvII

Such a greeting would make your day, right?

She talked for 5 hours straight

Posted by random olio

Somehow every time I come back from a trip I have annoying airplane stories. For my flights to/from Maui I think the worst was the woman sitting directly behind us on our way to Maui who literally (I am not exaggerating in the least) talked for the entire flight. How the poor woman sitting next to her made it through the flight I will never know. Chris kept offering me his noise canceling headphones but I do not think I should have to block it all out. Rather I think that individuals need to have more self-awareness! Especially when you have a high-pitched voice.

I did tell Chris that he can NEVER tell me I talk too much. I do not think I could ever talk for that long!

The next story has nothing to do with my trip but was an article I read last week about a man on a Portland bound Jet Blue flight that was sleeping and woke up and began peeing on neighboring passengers and their belongings. What, what, what? What is wrong with people these days? What has happened to the art of traveling, the luxury, and the excitement? We no longer seem to care about what is happening around us.

I definitely think a lot before traveling these days. What will my TSA experience be like? What will my overall travel experience be like, and how will the other passengers around me act? A colleague of mine’s spouse is a flight attendant, and they share horrifying stories about the things that people do on airplanes. We need to elevate our travel experiences both for ourselves and those around us.

Bae, bae, bae…

Posted by random olio

I am getting old. I kept seeing this word show up on social media #bae and yes, I had no idea what it meant. So of course I googled it:

“Bae,” Urban Dictionary says, is an acronym that stands for “before anyone else,” or a shortened version of baby or babe, another word for sweetie, and, mostly unrelated, poop in Danish. Jul 25, 2014

Okay. I get the “before anyone else” and I also actually love that it is also “poop” in Danish. How do these urban words start? This one is also in the name of a Pharrell Williams song: “Come Get It Bae.” I guess I missed that one when it came out. I tried to listen to it as I wrote this blog post and it did nothing for me. In the last year there have been articles from Esquire and Time, and many other online magazines asking the same question I am, only I am a year too late.

I am definitely getting old. I am not one to call Chris my baby or babe anyways, so maybe that is another reason it does not strike me, and yes I am no longer in my twenties. Over time I have come to the realization that I am a: “say-what-you-mean-in-a-direct-way” kind of woman. Just say it. Just like you mean it. No fluff. No shortened social media acronym. Why should I try to guess what you mean? Am I making myself any younger?

Maybe I will just resort to using it when I tell Chris “I need to bae, bae” aka: “I need to poop, babe.” Let him figure out what I mean. Ha.

Scared shitless

Posted by random olio

I have a few phobias. Snakes. Bats. And one I will not go into on the Internet involving personal safety. I freeze when I see a snake and depending on where I am and where it is, I imagine every time that I am going to shit my pants. I have not yet, but there are still many years left for that to happen.

Bats. I have a story from about five years ago involving a bat and my house. I was on a conference call with my boss at the time. I worked from home in Portland and my team worked remotely, with my boss in Boston. I am sitting in my office at my desk, with my old school headset (corded) connected to my BlackBerry when I see a black flying object zoom past my head, just grazing me. I screamed (and I have lungs) and jumped. My headset went one way, my BlackBerry went another, and I ran like hell out of there. I run back and decide to try to shut the door to the closet so that I can lock the sucker in the office.

I freak out some more. Try to call Chris on the phone at work and do not get an answer. I go outside. No one was out and we barely knew our older neighbors. I look down the street and see a landscaper. I run down and ask him if he can help me. Shit. He does not speak English. I flap my arms, know I have the most panicked look on my face, and motion for him to follow me. He does.

Back in my house, I open the door and basically lock him in the office and then go outside to show him through our sliding glass door how to open the door to let the bat out. It takes a while of back and forth and he eventually does. I am petrified and wonder how the bat got in so I, being so scared shitless, bring the man around the house and upstairs through the different bedrooms to see if he can figure out where it came in. We are not communicating well and I start to realize I have just brought a strange man into my bedroom! I realize I need to thank him and get him the hell out of my house. Hoping there are no more bats where that came from, I finally breathe, and realize I was on the phone with my boss. About 15 minutes have passed and I call him back. He was so worried that he had not heard from me and due to the loud scream followed by the disconnected call, he was in the process of calling my local police to have someone sent out to my house. Wow.

What scares the shit out of you?