Today Boyd, Lila, Lou and I braved Berkeley Bowl together, our first major grocery run as a family of four. Berkeley Bowl is my least favorite place, but there’s no denying that it’s cheaper and has a better selection than Whole Foods. So, I agreed to go despite the inevitable brushes with patchouli-dipped hipsters “being… Continue reading berkeley bowl
Boyd and I agree that this will be our last child. There is a small part of me that feels sad at that idea, and of never experiencing this amazing and miraculous pregnancy thing again. It is, after all, an incredible thing to feel another little body growing and moving inside your own. But mostly,… Continue reading golden girl
Given my experience when Lila was born, you can see why I would be nervous about this birth. That first time, I did everything “right”: took a childbirth class, worked with a doula, practiced relaxation techniques and did prenatal yoga every day. My diet was perfect, my kegel exercises constant, my iPod cued up to… Continue reading episode one
When your biggest fantasy about your husband is waking him up just so you can punch him in the face, it’s fair to say that things are not good. Lately, the onslaught of pregnancy hormones have combined with sheer exhaustion to create a cocktail of primal rage that is really not good for the marital… Continue reading hell hath no fury
I love Boyd. However, when the stakes are high, he does not exactly thrive under pressure. I give you the following exchange: Me: “I am as big as a house. There is no clothing anywhere on the planet that is big enough to fit me. I can barely walk across the room without passing out,… Continue reading what not to say
I love our marriage therapist, Paula. She gets all teary in sympathy at my now-sixth consecutive month of morning sickness, and kindly insists that I am not as fat as I think I am. But what endears her to me most is that she looks like someone who would have a really nice house to… Continue reading nap at your house?
My lack of recent posts is due to a bout of paralysis after the unpleasant aftermath of my post, “The Party Guest.” Apparently, even when nobody but your husband knows that you have a blog (which means that nobody on earth actually reads your blog), google searches still work. Thus, people who have their names… Continue reading PTSD