Reality Check.

Sometimes, I get so busy and my life is so cluttered with this and that, that I rarely let it sink in that SHE IS COMING. FOR REAL. And in only a few short months away. During the holidays, we usually have to cling for dear life, as very few people buy dance classes for themselves at Christmastime. This year, we didn't have that problem, as I got smart and had a sale. Plus, Vega Dance+Lab is more so the apple of people's eyes this year than ever, as we are just older and people know about us. So thankfully, THAT wasn't a problem this year, but staffing was a wee bit challenging.

I have spent this holiday season working away, and spending less time at home and with Oliver, less time relaxing and relishing this growing baby in my belly.

Then, this morning I got news from Shannon that one our students had her baby one month early. ONE MONTH.

Dear god, in my land of tight schedules, I was figuring we wouldn't even start on our Operation Build a Baby Room until we were a month away. What if she comes early and I have to put her to bed in a dresser drawer?

Not only does OBBR involve an extensive build-out of our basement (digging out the window wells so we can install larger windows, dry walling, electrical, build a bathroom, three bedrooms and a laundry room) but we still have to finish our build-out of the studio lobby!

And need I mention the giganticly proportioned project that Husband has been working on? I have no idea when I will even have time to sit and start a list of the things I will need to have to be ready for baby.

If it weren't for that pesky problem of needing money to do it, I would be all over these action items. Hire this dude, buy that thing, order this. But alas, we are going to be doing it all ourselves and as funding permits. I know that we will get it done, because that is how the Grahams roll. And once it's done, we are going to have a house that is two times bigger than it is now, which is going to be amazing. But I needed to have a public freakout about it first.

Holiday Recap.

Hello, there. I am just dropping a line to say we're all fine. Just fine. Christmas was very lovely. My mom step person, Dan, came down from Arlington to spend the night eating snacks and watching Oliver open his Santa gifts on Christmas morning.

The Christmas Eve menu was an array of appetizers, alongside homemade clam chowder. Here is a list of my snacks:

Artichoke and goat cheese bruschetta
Asparagus rollups (yes, there was cream cheese in there. And bacon.)
Blue cheese stuffed mushrooms
Crispy tortellini dipped in roasted garlic parmesan sauce
Hot Mamas - whoa, these were just delicious. Cheese, more cheese, egg, jalepenos. Baked and cut into squares. Sweet Jesus.

Dinner was clam chowder made from a hundred-year-old recipe from a restaurant in Maine. I have never been to the restaurant, nor have I ever been to Maine. I found the recipe on the internet and decided to go for it. It was delicious.

We were all stuffed to the rafters with food, but it was so fun to chop and cook and crumble and stir and chat with Rita the whole time.

Oliver got a very nice selection of gifts from everyone. Joe and I gave each other gifts with a ten dollar maximum spending limit. He chose an iPhone cover for me, and I made him an iTunes mix and burned it onto two discs. It was really fun to do it this way, and made us really think about what the other person would want but never buy themselves. Although, ahem... I probably wouldn't buy myself a pretty Tiffany initial pendant, either. Just sayin'. For next year... or hey. I have a birthday coming up AND a day or two (hopfully not two again) where I will pushing a new little awesome family into the world.

Surrounding the holiday, we have just been working a ton at the studio, teaching, and seeing a few friends here and there. Namely, Jessica and Cyrus, who are visiting from New York and who I love dearly.

I got to have a couple of sleepovers with Jess, a lovely dinner with all the girlfriends (I still don't know about escargot), and Joe and Cyrus boozed it up and down Mississippi Avenue last night. Very glad Joe got to have some bro time since he is mostly accompanied by this pregnant chick who feels and smells everything very intensely.

Today was back to work as usual, subbing the afternoon class for Amory, who is in Germany this Christmas, choreographing tonight's new hip hop combo, and teaching class/working the desk. Funny though, with all this extra dancing, I don't seem to be losing any weight. In fact, I keep getting bigger...

One awesome thing about working so much during the holidays is a) so many people have continued to show up despite the holiday craziness and join us for dancing, and b) I get to see Shannon at work and have our daily chit chats, which is so refreshing since mostly I just talk to Oliver and Joe.

Oliver got to go to his best friend's birthday party on Sunday(Happy 2nd Birthday, Milo!) and he had a marvelous time supervising the opening of gifts, being shy, and commandeering Mindy's lap. He is almost as tall as she is, so I give her props for hanging in there for so long!

If I don't write again before the First, please have a very fun and safe New Year's Eve celebration. And may your New Year's Day be filled with food, sweats, slippers and good tv.

X-Rated

I mean, in terms of chromosomes. It's a girl. We are completely pumped.

Visions of genitals dancing in her head...

Tomorrow I have my Level Two ultrasound. This one is a biggie for really being able to see if there are any abnormalities with the baby, and a by-product is that we will hopefully be able to see some "bits & pieces", as Joe calls them.

Almost everyone I know is getting girl vibes, one friend swears it's a boy, and I have absolutely no idea. Okay, I do. I kind of think it's a boy. Or maybe a girl. No, boy. Um, girl. Poop. I don't know.

Froze'd

My pipes froze. Joe is not home, and I couldn't pee, brush my teeth, shower, or brew coffee. The water bureau dudes came out and said there was nothing they could do. That we would just have to wait until the temperature rose and thawed the ground. I imagined us all shriveling up like a withered apple and never being clean again. And then I cried.

And then Mindy called.

Thank you to the following people today:
Mindy, for taking Oliver and me into your home as I tried desperately to cling to my sanity. The shower was exactly what I needed to clear my mind, and your "Backcomb in a Bottle" is my new favorite product.

Jill, for eating lunch with Oliver and me even though you weren't hungry, and then even further keeping me company by eating again anyway.

Husband Joe, for making every attempt to come home from your biz trip early to rescue your family from the House of Frozen Pipes. You needn't have rushed, but the fact you did makes me glad all over again that I married YOU.

The pipes have thawed, and we now have running water again. Mostly because I willed it to be so. Take that, universe. I want more from you.

The Poop Journals... continued.

This REALLY happened.

Oliver was playing some games on my computer, so I made a snack and settled in to watch some more routines from last night's So You Think You Can Dance. I didn't make it very far, however, because he slid from his perch on the chair to walk over and pat my arm. "Mom, I need to go poop."

Inside, I was throttled by this announcement. But I figured I would just play it cool like it's not the gigantic declaration that it is, coming from a kid who fears going Number Two. So I said, "Okay, let's go and I'll help you unzip your pj's."

We walked calmly into the bathroom, and I knelt down to unzip his robot sleeper (so cute, but too small, yet he refuses to let it go) and said, "I am not going to freak out about it..."

"Nah..." I said. "Nothing to freak out about. It's just a little poop."

And then he sat on the toilet, told me the Knock Knock Joke about the banana/orange scenario and I told him to go ahead and poop and I would be right back to help with the results. He said okay, I walked out, he called after me right away and said he pooped.

The end.

Outwardly, I maintained my composure, but inside I was dancing and flailing about like Steve Martin when he's excited. It's too bad I can't really drink right now because I think I would have headed straight for the store for some champagne.

I keep ducking and flinching, waiting for the other shoe to drop. But hey - maybe THIS is the other shoe. Maybe the shoe with gum all over the bottom of it was the whole not pooping nightmare, and the good shoe is THIS. I like that shoe.

Special Purpose.

For almost two years now, I have been trying to determine Bentley's place in our home. What his purpose is. Until today, I have not had anything conclusive to report.

I mean, I know why we adopted him. He's friggin' adorable. But so are many many other puppies. With Bentley, I saw him at the Humane Society one day and was completely mesmerized. My heart was broken after our dog, Simon, passed away from a painful illness, so I was wandering the dog quads at the Humane Society aimlessly, looking for some sort of band-aid. Not really the healthiest way to go about things, but one that took my mind off of the incredible loss I was feeling. (oh boy. Simon, buddy, you are still missed to this day.)

I saw this teensy little puppy who was just sitting there staring at me amidst the romps and rolls of his litter mates and I stopped in my tracks. Not only was he just about the cutest puppy I have ever seen, but I couldn't help thinking that Simon must have looked like that as a baby. We never got to see Simon's puppyness, as he was six months old and gangly by the time he adopted us.

We did an official pet meet, and all this little guy wanted to do was crawl in my lap and fall limply onto my legs. At the time, I thought it was the most precious thing in the world. I mean, he practically melted into my skin. I had to have him.


So we brought him home, and he continued to drape his body over everything and anything, no matter his size, or the size of his makeshift mattress. Mostly, it's Joe. And now that Bentley is around 70 pounds or so, it pretty much drives us all crazy. He knows no boundaries.


So what is his DEAL? I have wondered. Mona is just my girl. She follows me around, does what I say, and she is awesome. Otto is the family dog. The best dog and the nicest dog. Don't even get me started on Otto. He walks on water in my eyes, and I will leave it at that for now.

But Bentley just... is. I know that it's because we got when we were all so busy in life and have not devoted our 100% attention to his development as a good strapping dog. Usually our dogs sink into their roles in the family after a short time and have their "thing" they do. Bentley's thing seems to have been just laying all over us and smothering Joe until we cry tears of blood.

Lately though, I have noticed something really cool. That laying all over people thing? It goes both ways. Oliver can RIDE ON HIS BACK LIKE A HORSE, and he doesn't mind one iota. Today, Bentley was curled up on the sofa and Oliver decided to use him as a bench to sit on while he ate his breakfast. And he just laid there. Mona growls at Oliver and runs away when he tries to hug her (which I admit, must be a frightening image coming at you when you are only 15 pounds), and Otto just slowly gets up lopes off. Bentley, though, he loves it. It's attention! From the boy! I'll take it! Oooh! He's stomping on my back now! A little higher, that's it, THERE. Yawn, I think I will doze off while the boy plays the drums on my head.

Having a dog who is patient with a toddler is HEAVEN. Bentley's special purpose is:

The Kid Dog.

Welcome to the family, dog. Finally.