Disjointed Friday

Do you watch Basketball Wives? When did it turn into the Jerry Springer show? Watching it makes me feel dirty.

I was so lazy and relaxed yesterday after my massage that I told Kadin I'd have sex with him if he cooked dinner (it was my night to do so).

Last night, we started reading Cat in the Hat to Sabine before bedtime. (Is that the longest, most rambling book in America or what? One shouldn't underestimate the value of a good editor.) Sabine told me to stop reading and then asked Kadin to turn off the light. Um, this never happens. Never.

Recently, we let tiny monster watch Tangled (the story of Rapunzel). She now completely freaks out anytime another woman tries to talk to her, clutches me like a wet kitten and says, "No, this my mama."

I wish I could see the Radiohead show everyone is talking about.

I'd rather be tarred and feathered than go to Coachella. I'm too old to concert camp, hike to a stage and rub shoulders with thousands of sweaty teenagers in cut-off jean shorts.

Sabine's new favorite song is Prince's I Would Die For You. God, I love her.

My cousin (a mother of four) is about to run the Boston Marathon. I'm exhausted and impressed just thinking about it. The only thing I've run for lately are tacos, cheesecake and the sofa.

I'm super excited to see the new Domino magazine.

I'm not super excited that bathing suit season is upon us. How long can one where a maternity swimsuit after having a baby? 

Even though I complain about my pregnancy aches and pains and joke about being an old lady, I'm immensely and wonderfully thankful that I'm able to be pregnant and carry this tiny human at all. I don't take it for granted for even one second.

TGIF. No, really. We finally have zero plans!

via Observando

Design Matters

Cool ideas for your nest.

via Pinterest

Vacation: All I Ever Wanted

Today I'm going to the doctor (until now, Sabine has come with me to every single appointment) ALONE while Kadin takes Sabine to the zoo, her favorite place on earth. After seeing the doctor I'm getting a pedicure (I can't see my toes but other people can) and a prenatal massage. 

I'm so happy I could cry. No, really (hey, my hormones are off the hook. What did you expect? I'm forty and pregnant for godsakes). 

Can a 35-weeks pregnant lady even fit on a massage table? (PS: I look nothing like the lady in the image below while wearing a bathing suit, which I try not to do--especially while pregnant.)

via The Beauty File

The Need for Inspiration

Sometimes just looking at fashion/style photos can pull me out of my t-shirt and yoga pants rut.

Funny Stuff and Difficult Things

My sister told me the funniest story about a conversation her three kids had in the backseat while she was driving the other day. They were on the freeway when she swerved to avoid a dead, smushed bunny in the road. Her oldest child asked, "What was that, mama?" She replied that it was a dead bunny.  (Note: this is when I would assuredly lie, calling the object in the road a fuzzy piece of trash to avoid a conversation about death and cute, furry animals.) There was a long silence before one of her girl twins said, "Maybe it was one of the bunnies we see when we walk with dada in the morning." (They love running into those bunnies by the way.) My sister replied that she didn't think it was one of their local bunnies because they were too far from the house. Insert an even longer silence before the twin then said, "Maybe it was the easter bunny." This time, there was dead silence and looks of horror all around. The oldest child, very upset, started yelling and going on an on about how there was no way it could be the easter bunny because he doesn't use the freeway, only goes to people's houses and does so during the night when they're sleeping.

Hilarious.

In other not so surprising news, I'm seriously struggling with carrying around what seems to be a ginormous baby inside my body. Unlike when I was pregnant with Sabine, I have many more aches and pains, none of my clothing fits, it hurts to sit upright and I continue to get an alarming amount of comments about the hugeness of my belly, making me feeling like some kind of carnie freak.

At about one o'clock each day, I physically crumble and need to lay on my side cause the pains are too great. Sabine has been a trooper. Thank goodness she's now into painting and coloring and stickers.

I'm seriously struggling here and cannot imagine feeling like this for at least another three and a half weeks. I asked Kadin for another short back massage last night before we went to sleep. He begrudgingly obliged in silence and with one hand. Then I started going on about how I don't think he has any idea how insane this is/feels or what a struggle it is every single day. His response? "Oh I think you're handling it pretty well." Then he turned over and continued watching TV. Dude, I get more sympathy from my two-year old.

I guess the bottom line is that carrying, giving birth to and then being the main caregiver to a tiny human is by far the hardest and most trying thing I've ever done. But I guess a guy, even a beloved life partner, can never really understand that.

via Observando

Best Dress

If I were ever to have a wedding, I'd wear this.

via The Beauty File

The Professional

One of our close friends, Caren Kurlander, took these images of us and mostly Sabine over the weekend. Isn't she super talented? Sabine was seriously making out with that giant lollipop while the stripes on my dress were seriously working over time to cover the giant baby inside my giant belly. If you're interested in having Caren shoot you, too, send me an email (lmaukcaines@gmail.com). She's sweet, brings fun props and makes you feel ridiculously comfortable.

Simple, Delicious

I'm dying for these. So easy to make and eating them won't make you feel too guilty. They're the perfect dessert in my humble opinion. (via thesweetslife)

Cheesecake Stuffed Strawberries
from Nutmeg Nanny

Ingredients:
-1 lb large strawberries
-8 oz. cream cheese, softened (can use 1/3 less fat)
-3-4 tbsp powdered sugar (4 tbsp for a sweeter filling)
-1 tsp vanilla extract
-graham cracker crumbs

Directions:
1. Rinse strawberries and cut around the top of the strawberry. Remove the top and clean out with a paring knife, if necessary (some may already be hollow inside). Prep all strawberries and set aside.
2. In a mixing bowl, beat cream cheese, powdered sugar, and vanilla until creamy. Add cream cheese mix to a piping bag or ziploc with the corner snipped off. Fill strawberries with cheesecake mixture. Once strawberries are filled, dip the top in graham cracker crumbs. If not serving immediately, refrigerate until serving.

Happy Spring!

Watching Sabine hunt for eggs on Sunday was practically the sweetest thing I've ever seen. She had the time of her life (even though her favorite holiday is Halloween). Sometimes I can't believe how lucky I am or that she's mine.

Kitchen Confidential

Dreaming of more spacious, uncluttered, well-designed kitchens--again.

Little Love

In the past two weeks Sabine has learned to ride her tricycle, been completely potty trained and has been accepted to preschool for the fall. Every time I tell her she will soon be going to school, I also tell her that I won't be there with her but that I will miss her and wish she was home with me. And each time, she answers, "No, mama. I need to go to school." That kid is like a bucket of cold water on my head, constantly shaking me out of any romantic notions of motherhood. She moves much faster through stages than I'd like her to. Sometimes I want to just keep her small and under my wing forever and ever.

My size has caused me to be much less patient with her and I feel guilty about it. When I'm driving us around and hoping for a mental moment to myself, I look through the rearview mirror and see her singing along to Prince. She says, "C'mon mama," so I will sing along with her and then I just melt. Or sometimes, in a display of affection, she holds my face in her hands and says, "I so prow uh you, mama. I uh you." (Translation: I'm so proud of you, mama. I love you.)

Even though I'm eight months pregnant and she weighs thirty pounds, I still pick her up when she asks, "Hold you me?" (Translation: Hold me?) And I plan on doing so for as long as I possibly can because I know a day is coming soon where she will either be too big to carry or too independent to want her mama to hold her anymore.

H&M Cuteness

There is some serious cuteness happening over at H&M. Go ahead, buy your little one more clothes she does not need. They're so affordable you can't say no.

Hunger Games

Have you guys heard about all the controversy surrounding race and the Hunger Games movie? I first heard about it here: 37 Paddington.

Apparently, a lot of moviegoers were unhappy that the characters of Rue, Thresh and Cinna were cast  as Black actors. In the book, 12-year-old Rue is described as having dark brown skin and eyes.  Amandla Stenberg, who plays Rue in the movie, in fact has brown skin and eyes. Thresh, played by Dayo Okeniyi, is also described as having dark brown skin. The book's author did not specify skin color for the character of Cinna, the Capitol stylist played by Lenny Kravitz.

In an effort to illustrate the fact that readers/moviegoers were not simply disappointed that whatever image of these characters they had in their minds was not accurately depicted in the movie and that their disappointment was perhaps more about race, it's important to mention another point about the movie's cast. Katniss, the main character in the book, was described as having straight black hair and olive skin. Many people imagined her as Native American, but blonde-haired, blue-eyed Jennifer Lawrence played the part. There was not any backlash in reaction to this casting decision. However, there was a rash of tweets and Facebook comments in reaction to the casting choices for Rue, Cinna and Thresh. Here are some examples:

via 37 Paddington

When I read these comments, I think about the color of Sabine's skin and eyes and the texture of her hair. I think about how I've never known what it's like to be hated because of my physical attributes--things a group of people decided were ugly or offensive or not good enough simply because they are different from their own. I would take a lifetime of that hatred and carry it on my shoulders if it meant that Sabine did not have to experience it. 

When people say we are in a post-racist society, I think they should log on to Twitter or Facebook and check out some the crap they might discover. These tweets and comments speak to the fact that we are nowhere near post-racist.

When Kadin and I talked about this the other night, he said that experiencing that hatred will be a part of Sabine's life. He told me I cannot spare her that and on some level, I need to accept this fact. He added that we simply need to give her as much love, affection, support, confidence and happy moments to combat and carry her through that negativity. So that's what we'll do...for this most beautiful, alive, loving, generous, silly, brave, strong and amazing girl who I'm lucky enough to call daughter.

Bed Dressing

Now that we have a new king-size bed, dressing our sleeping quarters is the next order of business. I'm slightly obsessed with the cloud-like options I've found in the home section of Anthropologie. The colors and the textures are so ethereal and soothing. Now if only someone would give us a $700 gift certificate so that we might actually be able to sleep in such luxury...

Weekend in Review

It's so dizzying how things go from bad to good and vice versa so quickly.

I slept horribly on Friday night. I was incredibly hot and sweaty all night long, got up to use the restroom multiple times and pretty much lay awake from 3 a.m. to 6:15 a.m., when Sabine decided to wake up. Happy Saturday!

When I attempted to take a shower, Sabine decided to throw open the sliding glass door--letting all the warmth escape--and stare at me and ask questions the entire time. In my monthly attempt to shave my legs, which I can barely see or reach at this point, I discovered that my last razor was missing. I hollered to Kadin to ask if he'd seen it. He told me it had fallen in the trash and he emptied the trash without retrieving it. Really? Ugh.

When I asked for a towel, he brought me a damp one that had already been used. Normally, my dude-like self would not be bothered by this. But holy crap, I'd been awake half the night, woke up too early, took a shower with the door open, a pair of tiny eyes on me the whole time and with no razor. I just wanted a clean towel.

At the end of my exhausted, pregnant rope, I got dressed as quickly as I could, jumped in my car and disappeared to avoid cracking. I found a cafe where I bought a hot cup of coffee and a bagel. I marched them back to my car and ate them with the doors locked, my seat reclined, some loud Wilco playing and the right amount of drizzle falling on the windshield.

After that, I waddled in and out of stores and drove some more with no particular destination in mind until I figured I should go home again. Sabine was pretty fussy for the rest of the afternoon and evening. Kadin was unusually tired and quiet. I couldn't help but think we deserved a Saturday do-over.

But Sunday! Sunday was perfect. Sabine slept until seven. Kadin drove to get me a chorizo burrito just after we woke up. And when I tell you that this burrito tasted exactly like my grandma's used to, I say it as I thanked him, with tears in my eyes. I really did cry. It was THAT good. Plus, I'm super hormonal. After the burrito, I was sleepy again. So I went upstairs and dozed off and on for an hour and a half while Kadin stayed downstairs and Sabine played and happily went between the two of us. She wasn't fussy or grumpy like the day before which clearly speaks volumes to the fact that the kid should sleep until seven every day. Her refusal to do so is maddening.

Soon enough it was naptime. Tiny monster went down without a fight and Kadin and I watched a movie that we actually liked and took a short nap afterward. When we woke up, we took a walk in perfectly cool and sunny weather. The sky was so blue and you could actually see the craggy mountains against it. We hunted for bugs with Sabine, got smoothies and ran around the library grounds, which are storied and green with red brick walls and the most enormous Lord of the Rings-like tree that has knee-high roots you can climb and jump over.

I have this horrible habit, Kadin says, of not being able to see the forest through the trees. When something is crappy or not going well, it feels in the moment, like that's our life. But weekends like this, weekends that are part exhausting and part blissful, remind me that life is a mixed bag. When you're exhausted and feel like you can't take another second, something simply good can be right around the corner.

via Observando

Time for Bed

We finally got a king-size platform bed. This means my large pregnant body can roll over comfortably and use the seventy dollar body/pregnancy pillow I purchased not too long ago. And Sabine, too, can fit in our bed when she wakes up way too early in the morning.

Now we just have to put it together, even though it came in three separate boxes--and without any directions.

via Apartment Therapy

Invasion of the Body Snatcher

I took a break. A much-needed, two-week break. Look at the picture below and you will understand why. I mean, how does one carry a bump like that around without falling forward?

I'm 33 weeks now. My back is killing me. I'm chasing sleep when Sabine sleeps. I get heartburn if I eat a handful of peanuts. I'll need a vat of Tums to get me through the next five, maybe seven, weeks. Carrying laundry or groceries up the one flight if stairs to our apartment building makes me feel like I smoked a pack of cigarettes then ran a marathon.

If I hear one more person gasp at the size of my belly then tell me there's no way I'll make it until May, I'm going to stuff a sock between their lips. One of my neighbors is also pregnant and due four days before me. Each time I see her she goes on and on about how huge my belly is and asks if I'm sure I'm not having twins. She likes to follow it up by lamenting on how tiny she is. I want to pinch her. Hard.

Two-and-a-half-year-old Sabine is busier than ever. She runs away when I try to brush her hair or get her dressed. She goes to sleep at 9:00 p.m. and wakes up at 6:15 a.m. She likes to try and sit on my belly or lean against it with all of her weight. There's a small someone pushing from the inside and a bigger someone pushing right back from the outside.

To top all of it off, we ordered a new platform bed in February which has yet to arrive. So Kadin and I are sleeping on a mattress on the floor, which makes getting up to pee four times in the middle of the night extra sucky. I need a bedside crane.

When I've sat down to write this blog recently, I've felt guilty or strained because it takes me out of the moment. It takes my mind and my hands and real time away from Sabine. And it's time that I can't help but think will be limited once this baby is born; time I will never have alone again with this amazing little being who lights up my world, makes my heart skip and who has changed my entire being.

At the same time, this blog is also my baby book, Sabine's growth chart, my love letters to her and a place for honesty--all invaluable things that I've created for her (and our family) so she will know me as a mom and as a person. And so she will know--always--how she was loved more deeply than the depths ocean or endless sky.

Here's my low budget self portrait so you, too, can take a gander and marvel at the size of that belly...

Monday Wisdom

A little religion:

And a little honesty:

images via Observando