Old News...

I know pretty much everyone knows this already, but I've had a good reason for not posting (as opposed to my usual laziness reason for not posting).

Isaac Vincent made his arrival on May 6th at 3:57pm. Weighed in at eight pounds, 2 ounces and was an even 20 inches long. Screamed like a banshee right away and pinked up quite nicely, to the point where he pretty much matched the pink on my sexy hospital gown.

Just looking at this picture... he's changed so much in just the past four days. Time to take some more pictures...

Rusty Voicebox

I feel like 95% of the "talking" I've done over the past few weeks has been internet-based and in typed form. Now, there's nothing wrong with that. It's sure as heck cheaper than making a bunch of telephone calls. But I often wonder whether I'm losing the capability for normal human speech. I also wonder if the baby will forget what my voice sounds like. ;)

Shaun arrives today. I can tell, because the weather has turned kinda nasty. The weather gods don't want him getting homesick for the Tundra, apparently. Up until I woke up this morning (at 5am... who wakes up at 5am voluntarily? Me, apparently...), I hadn't seen a cloud in about a week. Highs have been in the lower 50s, for the most part, with little wind. This morning, however, I heard a noise that has been conspicuously absent from my life since leaving Nunapitchuk... the wind. It's 38, windy, with light rain. I feel like I'm back in the village.

In addition to my dearest darling husband, who'll be here for... well, until we go back to Nunap with the baby, a bunch of other friends will be in town for the weekend. Four friends, to be mathematically exact about the whole thing. I'm going to have social opportunities coming out of my rear end.

I just hope my voice still works. Perhaps I should sing at the top of my lungs for a while, just to make sure.

... and Waiting

I'm here. Whilin' away the time in good old Anchorage, AK.

It's funny. After the pukey, tired, sick, miserable first two months or so, this pregnancy FLEW by. Work helped me not focus too much on how much pregnancy I had left, and pregnancy helped me not focus too much on how much school year I had left. Next thing I knew, it was April 7th, and I was leaving for Anchorage.

Now, however, time seems to have slowed to a crawl. I keep myself pretty busy... I spread out appointments so I have something to do most days, I try to get to the YMCA to swim five out of seven days per week, and I have craft projects that I haven't even TOUCHED since I've been here (although that's my plan for tomorrow afternoon). But still, without the daily distraction of work, I can't help but notice the passing of every day. The past week was probably the slowest of my entire pregnancy.

Not the most terrible week, mind you. I'll take slightly under-occupied over actively vomiting any day. It's not that I'm horrifically sick of being pregnant or anything. It's not so awful, really. I guess I'm very much aware of the passage of time. I'm not insanely bored or anything. I'm just... waiting. Like being in line at Space Mountain at Disney world. There's lots of fun stuff to look at and make the wait less mind-numbingly boring, but you're still acutely aware that you're waiting for the "real part" to start. You know you're just waiting for something to happen.

I know, I know, I know... enjoy it while it lasts. Everyone keeps telling me that.

Anchorage-ing

Yup, still just chillin' in the big city. I got a bus pass and a YMCA membership for the month, so I'm set for transportation and at least an hour of entertainment per day through the end of April. Swimming is fun. I look like a beached whale, but it's lots of fun.

Good news... baby is head down and "very happy in there." I just hope he's not so happy that he decides to take after his mom and Auntie Mel and book an extended stay.

Bad news... well... there's some sad news back in Nunap that I really don't want to get into.

That's about it, really. I'm trying to fill my days with things that don't cost huge amounts of money. Sure, I could eat out at a different restaurant for every meal, and that would be QUITE entertaining and take up a lot of time... but that stuff adds up quickly. Right now, I'm enjoying having a bunch of fresh vegetables and dairy products (I've been on a yogurt kick; and apparently one company makes a tub of yogurt twice the size of the regular "large" tub of plain yogurt). And Jelly Bellies. I may have bought some Jelly Bellies. But that was my only junk food purchase, I swear. I'm tryin' to end this pregnancy on a healthy note.

Well, Here I Am

I type this at a keyboard in a house on a street (a street... not a boardwalk) in a neighborhood of a city that is connected by road to other cities. I type this having returned, carrying bags containing vegetables and yogurt and cottage cheese and maybe a bag of Jelly Bellies, from a grocery store larger than my house. I type this on unfiltered, non-school internet. I type this, in other words, from Anchorage.

Yes, I'm "waiting." That's what you do when you have a baby in the Bush. At some point, you go into Bethel or Anchorage "to wait." It's just what it sounds like. You take time off of work (over half of my maternity leave will likely be used up before the baby is even born), go somewhere, and do nothing but gaze at your navel and wonder when the baby lurking beneath it will appear.

Five hours, and I'm already kind of homesick. Sure, there are restaurants and movie theaters and stores and Other Assorted Things Not Found in the Bush, but it's not home. I'm lucky enough to have a coworker from whom I can rent a house for the month-plus I'll likely be here. Shaun will join me here when I get closer to my due date.

I'll admit it... I'm kind of homesick. Our house in the village is really nothing special, but it's our house. Home. Home containing a husband and wildly-shedding dog.

But, bare minimum, I'm homesick in a place with fresh vegetables and fruits that I won't have to cut the bad spots off of.

Intercultural Flatulence Exchange

This week has been... standardized testing week. It's also my last week of work, for the record. In addition to EVERY student, grades 3-10, having to take a test, the state of Alaska has added this year a Science test for grades 4, 8, and 10.

Several of the students in our 4th grade classroom are actually third graders according to the state, so while the rest of their class slaves away at bubble-filling, they're hanging out with me. We had some work to do, but at this point, we're just hanging out, chatting, listening to some Mexican music, and being artistic. They were especially interested in the Mexican music. We found Mexico on the globe and everything.

Suddenly, the inevitable happens, someone passes wind.

Student 1: "Student 2 FARTED! AAAAH!"

Me: "Everyone farts sometimes. It's not a big deal. But for the rest of the day, if we have to fart, let's try to go over by the door."

Student 2: "Okay."

Student 1: "Everyone farts?"

Me: "Yup."

Student 1: "Even 50 Cent?"

Me: "Yeah, if he eats a lot of beans or drinks a lot of milk or something."

Student 2: "Even Mexican people fart?"

Me: "Yes. Even Mexican people. Everyone farts."

Our Baby Wears Many Hats

Or, as it were, many pairs of pants. For one so young, he really has a lot of different personalities.

Sometimes he's a prisoner (note: these are actually shorts).


Sometimes he's a pirate.


Sometimes he just wants to be a dirty, filthy hippie.



This is waaaaaaaaay more fun than buying baby clothes! Seriously, ONE cute handmade item is like 500x cooler than anything we've purchased thus far. Especially the Pirate Pants. How do you say "YARR" in baby-talk?

Place Your Bets Here, Ladies and Germs...

Will I have a May baby or an April baby? My original (and, as far as I know, still my official) due date is May 1. BUT, when I looked at my charts (I did one appointment in Wisconsin, so got copies of my charts to take with me), they had my "adjusted," as in what they think it'll be after seeing him on ultrasound, due date as April 27th.

So... April baby or May baby? When do YOU think this little guy will arrive? Pick a date and make it your own. Closest guess wins... well... probably nothing. You just get the joy of being a winner. Make your guess as specific (date, time, etc) as you want.

The OPPOSITE of a Bargain Baby

No, I didn't go blow $300 at Baby Gap. I blew significantly less than that at a wonderful yarn store in Anchorage, Knitting Grounds.
There's something to be said about GOOD yarn. I'm talking about Malabrigo. Tough on the wallet, easy on the skin. This stuff gives my fingers happiness. There is also something to be said for a good pattern. I'm talking this time about Little Turtle Knit's Picky Pants Pattern. Now, at this point, you may be thinking one (or two) of two things... "But Sara, you PAID for a PATTERN? Aren't you the self-described cheap bastard who can't follow directions any better than your students?" OR "Sara... wool? On a baby? Are you daft?"

Well, I followed directions, thankyouverymuch, and they came out awesome. This pattern is actually worth the money. Most knitting patterns suck. This one gives you a whole bunch of options and a wide range of sizes, so I'll be able to use it many, many times. And I plan to. And as for the WOOL ON A BABY?! screamers amongst you, let me assure you of a few things. This is not like the wool you find at your local Mega Craft store. This stuff is... amazing. And as far as washing goes... well... these (and the second project, shown below the pants) are designed to be worn over a cloth diaper. Wool is awesome for that. Keeps liquids in, if you lanolize it correctly (which I sure as heck hope I manage to do).

Here be the Picky Pants, knitted in Malabrigo Azul Bolito (note: they haven't been blocked or lanolized yet):


And my other project (knitted in... crap, I forget, but some kind of yarn slightly less awesome than Malabrigo, but still pretty great), is a soaker I made from a free pattern I found online. I'd give credit, but the pattern was saved on my computer, which has again decided that it doesn't need to function. It's in a bigger-butt size. I'm trying to sew and knit things in various sizes, since I'm sure I won't have time after this moving mass in my abdomen makes his way out into the world. These haven't been blocked either, but the yarn is a VERY hand-spun kind of yarn, so it varies a lot in thickness. Even after it's blocked, it'll be pretty... wavy. I think it adds character.



So there you have it. Stuff I've made. Pretty boring post, I realize.

Bargain Basement Budget Baby

I've kind of been both mortally dreading and pathetically looking forward to the purchasing of baby clothing. Upside: Cute. Downside: Expensive.

Enter, the thrift store (Did I mention we're in Anchorage? Yeah, we're in Anchorage for a prenatal appointment). Ah, the thrift store. Onesies and T-shirts? $.99. Stretchy pants? Also $.99. Some really spendy items (a pair of Oshkosh B'Gosh overalls, an elastic-bottom "sleep sack," etc) were a whopping $4.99. I only bought a few of those most expensive items. Come to find out that most of the items were also 50% off today. Whaddayaknow?

$20 later, our unborn son is the proud owner of four pairs of pants, two sets of bibs (the Oshkosh B'Gosh pair and one short pair), three onesies, two little jacket shirt, aforementioned "sleep sack," and a baseball-style jersey shirt. $20.

The amount of Baby Gap and Other Assorted Expensive Baby Brand clothing there was mind-blowing... and most of it looked pristine. Shaun insisted on buying Baby Gap, out of sheer irony. We are the proud owner of a $.50 Baby Gap long-sleeved onesie. The cheapest price I could find for onesies on the Baby Gap website was 3 for $18. For $18, I could have gotten, if my calculations are correct, 36 onesies.

I'm such a cheap bastard. And darn proud of it.

I've Been Busy

And clearly, I've been busy not blogging.

I've been on a baby-item-making spree, though. I made two little cotton shirts (the collars were HARD, but the second one came out far better than the first, so I'm encouraged) and am currently in the middle of a knitting project (a romper, I guess they're called).

Over Christmas, my mother and I started on this...


... and I finished it the night that Shaun had his little snowmachine adventure. They're a big-baby size, because I figure I might as well build up a stash now, while I'm childless and fairly bored. The pattern called for no pocket and patches on the knees, but I started sewing on the patches and they just didn't look very good... kinda tacky. So I improvised a pocket. Thus continues my streak of being unable to leave anything alone. I can't think of a craft project I've completed "by the book," ever. I just can't leave well enough alone.

Conveniently, it is Chocolate Lab-colored, which is nice because, like everything else in our house, I'm guessing this baby will not be dog-hair-free.


*The flash made the dog shiny... they really are closer in color than this photograph would indicate. I'm very jealous of people who can arrange their craft projects to look all cool and artistic... not me. These are casual snapshots, and I am very OK with that.*

The Rise and Fall of This

I was just looking at the stats over on the righthand side of my blog. My yearly post totals caught my eye...

* ► 2007 (48)
* ► 2006 (162)
* ► 2005 (197)
* ► 2004 (99) [note: I started blogging in August of 2004]

Have I really become so boring? So lazy? So... no, I think boring and lazy pretty much sum things up quite nicely.

2007 has been a pretty eventful year. I got married and knocked up. I'm sure many other, smaller, yet equally blog-able things have happened to me as well, but I have neglected to record them for the ages. I guess that's the ages' loss. Well, the ages and me, since I also promptly forgot everything that I didn't write down. Guess that best-selling life story I was planning on writing just won't be happening. Darn.

For the moment, I'll just go back to gestating this baby. I might even post about it, or something.

So...

Yup, it's a boy.

Shaun posted ultrasound pics. I'd blame the fact that my computer has gone to the land of dead technological things (which is HAS), but let's face facts here, even if my computer were not kaput, he's just more on top of these things than I am. I didn't even know they were going to do the creepy 4-D ultrasound... it seems pretty unnecessary, so I didn't think it was something they just did without asking. All the sudden the tech just switched over to 4-D and started printing out pics! One profile shot would have been MORE than enough of a keepsake for me (and really... a keepsake is not a reason to have a medical procedure... but I digress...), but I guess I'm just kind of weird like that. Also, the 4-D shots really kind of creep me out.

So, yeah. Baby. Has "outdoor plumbing" and is normal, or as normal as the offspring of Shaun and myself could ever possibly hope to be.

Gobble Gobble

We hosted Thanksgiving dinner for those in Teacher Housing who weren't going elsewhere. We had nine people gathered around our table (and couches in the living room). Turkey was consumed, as were stuffing, mashed potatoes, and all the usual trappings... plus a whole lot of dessert. All told, to be split among nine people, we had three pies (pumpkin, cherry, and apple), two cakes (one spice and one white with salmonberries on top), and a pan of apple crisp. There was also a loaf of pumpkin bread that, while served with dinner, was probably more dessert-like than entree-like.

And the lasting (for an hour or so, anyway) proof of this soiree... the dishes.



Edited to add... Shaun didn't do all the dishes. We split them in half. We also made turkey stock with the carcass (which can be seen in the stock pot on the stove). Nummmmmmmmmy...

Apologies in Advance

Wow, I had a whole long post, but my computer crashed and it disappeared. So, I'll re-create, but I've lost some of my writing gusto, so it's probably not as exciting as the original. Here goes...

I don't want to turn this into an All-Baby-All-The-Time blog. I really don't. In spite of that, it may just happen... against my will, I swear.

I'll try to blog about other things, but it's hard to FIND other things to blog about. I'm in a comfortable pattern up here, and comfortable patterns, while comfortable, are not particularly blog-worthy.

So... yeah. Baby post. I made a blanket. It's for next winter, really, but I felt the sewing itch now and scratched it. Notice the lack of pastel pink, blue, green, and yellow.

I'm Infected

The Onion: Woman Overjoyed by Giant Uterine Parasite

POP QUIZ!

OK, boys and girls. Since we've got no school today (river is half frozen, so we didn't have enough kids to call it a school day), and I'm feeling teacherly, I'm going to administer a pop quiz. Please study the picture below, and answer the question that follows.



In this photograph, Sara is barefoot and _________ in the kitchen.
a. a man
b. pregnant
c. picking her nose
d. not wearing underpants

If you chose option *b*, you are correct. Due May 1. Shaun wrote a very nice post all about our trip to Anchorage for my appointment. No ultrasound pic to show off, though; they were fresh out of paper for the printer.

AbracaFABulous***

Now, I can usually spot concealed homosexuality in fiction and film with the best of them. In fact, I spot it where it doesn't even exist. My literary gay-dar, it seems, is on overdrive.

But I totally missed this one. I mean, jeez, I ONLY read that book how many times this summer?

I like that Dumbledore's gay. It makes sense. He certainly does have a sense of flair beyond that of your average hetero wizard.

***Shaun came up with the title for this post***

Boob

When it rains it pours, apparently... at least when it comes to first graders saying inappropriate things in cute ways and me just not understanding their intent.

So, the other day, I was just doing my thing, being a teacher. Being educational, and stuff.

Suddenly, a little darling tugged on my shirt. "My boob hurts," she said, then just kind of wanders away without further comment.

I was more than a little dumbstruck.

"Student," I called, "come back here." She kind of bounced back towards me. In a private-conversation-voice, I asked her, "What did you say hurts?"

"My boob," she replied, as if I were asking her a very, very dumb question.

"Your... huh?"

She held up a grubby first grade forefinger. "My BOOB! My THIS KIND" she huffed, pointing to a small cut on aforementioned digit.

Comprehension at last. "Oh," I said, "your BOO-BOO?"

"Yeah. That's what our baby calls them. Boo-boos."

Better than boobs, I guess.

@$$hole

First graders are precious.

Every day, my students take their own attendance. It takes the first graders a little while to find their name on the chart, trace over to the correct day, and make an "X." They're getting faster, but it's still a bit more of a process than I'd like.

They're allowed to talk quietly while waiting their turn.

Yesterday, they were busily marking Xs and quietly chattering about... who knows. First grade things. I was arranging things for the day's lesson.

Suddenly, I hear "Asshole. Asshole. Asshole."

It was directed at no one in particular, and was coming from a nice, sweet, non-swearing kind of kid. He's also a strong Yup'ik speaker, and not as fluent in English, so I thought it a possibility that he just had no idea what he was saying.

I walked over and asked, "What did you say, student?"

"Asshole," he replied. Or so I thought. He was saying it funny. It actually sounded more like "Essole."

So I asked for clarification. "Essole," he repeated.

Then he pointed at my flashlight, which I keep close by because the power goes out semi-regularly and my classroom has no windows. It had "ESL" written on the side in permanent marker.

First graders are just learning to sound out words around this time of the year. He was quite proud of himself. "Essole!"

I had to think of a way to at the same time congratulate him on his great word-detective skills and also inform him that it kind of sounded like he was swearing at someone.