You know? All things considered and ruthlessly mentally compartmentalized, we had a really lovely week around here. Jason made me an amazing dinner for Valentine's Day. I opted for Just Buy Something Shiny route and picked out a Le Crueset tagine for him, thus ensuring that he would ALSO make me dinner for the rest of the week in his excitement to try it out. Our house smells like a Moroccan restaurant all the time now, and Noah thinks couscous is the best thing ever. Noah is not wrong. On Wednesday, I had my 24-week OB visit, where I finally got to celebrate the packing on of FOUR WHOLE POUNDS. I know I sound like such a dick every time I bring this topic up, but holy hell, this pregnancy is so weird. Me at 24 1/2 weeks (and looking so very terribly excited about it!). No, those are not maternity jeans. Yes, that is a belt. Because somebody ate my hips off. I at least look pregnant from the side, right? The kid is big and strong enough to visibly jiggle a bowl of pudding balanced on my belly with the force of his kicks (what? it was a... Read more →


The American Cancer Society asked me to write an additional post for the More Birthdays campaign. (I was supposed to write one more, next month, and that was it.) I suppose I can assume this means they've been happy with the response so far and you guys have been clicking over and retweeting and like-buttoning or whatever the hell it is you youngsters do these days with your Internets and smartyphones and...and... What was I talking about? I got distracted by some deep thoughts about prunes. Oh! Right. Another post for ACS. Another look at a topic that should inspire at least a dozen entries from me on any given day, eleven of which are all but guaranteed to make a significant portion of the Internet cry. Or at least, lie about crying in my comments section. Don't think I don't know you do that. (And don't think that I don't love you for it.) But oh. I'm tired of it. It hurts like a bruise, and some days just thinking about it feels the same a swift kick from pointy shoes. My dad...well. Things are about the same. He still believes he'll be able to continue chemo, somehow. And... Read more →


Okay. We need to talk about something important. For once! We need to talk about my hair. This topic is so intensely important, I felt compelled to create some illustrations. You know I'm serious when I bust out the stick figures and paintbrush tool, yo. First, this was me (and my hair) back before I ever decided to have babies: I mean, not that thin or out of proportion, but you get the idea. Stick-straight, fine hair that did very little besides sit there. It was very good at sitting. Also: hanging, limping, and flopping. I found it incredibly boring, and spent every other year wondering if "bangs would help," and then every other year in between THAT attempting to grow out my stupid bangs. Then, I went on Clomid, fertility pill of the devil himself: That shit made my hair curly. Suddenly, I had tons of natural wave and body. Of course, I also had NO BABY and a raging case of major depression, panic disorder and OCD. So I had to stop taking the Clomid. I still kind of miss That Hair, though. A few months later, though, huzzah! I was pregnant. And sometime around the second trimester,... Read more →


Whoa. I've been away so long that Typepad logged me out of my blog publishing-y thing. And I couldn't remember my password. Or the real, actual word I'm thinking of when I call it my "blog publishing-y thing." So we went to New York! It was fantastic. I think I finally succeeded in gaining a million pounds, thanks to Travelocity and Restaurant Week and Mario Batali's Eataly where I ate pasta and then had a cheese plate and more pasta for dessert. Or maybe that was considered pre-dessert. We were there for like, four hours and didn't stop eating once. That was also where I spent a good 45 minutes staring at some poor random guy a few seats down from us at the crudo counter that I SWEAR was on an episode of Law & Order or something, only to realize once he got up and I was actually sitting directly next to Andrew Zimmern. You will all be terribly proud of me, I think, for managing to NOT start pointing and shouting "BIZARRE FOODS! Hey! You're BIZARRE FOODS! What up, BIZARRE FOODS. I TOTALLY CAN'T THINK OF YOUR REAL NAME RIGHT NOW, BIZARRE FOODS." Jason, always the bad... Read more →


I Really Hate Coming Up With Titles Some Days. (There. Done!)

And two days later...it's still a boy! What? Not quite as exciting anymore? Damn these follow-up posts. They're such a letdown. I spent all day yesterday in rapid reverse-gear, solely fixated on my older existing-model child and visiting our kindergarten options for next year. A variety of special education flavors and regular strength. I started off the day with a pre-existing belief in one of them, only to end up with that belief shaken and stirred and coming home to wail that I DON'T LIKE ANY OF THEM, EVERYTHING IS WRONG. One option is too this and the other is too that. I still haven't come to any great revelations about the day and the experiences and what I saw, other than to randomly decide that I think I'm going to sign Noah up for a karate class. That will solve...none of the big issues at hand, but it's a DECISION. About SOMETHING. Everybody golf clap. DO IT. Oh, and I bought like, five boxes of chocolate truffles. They were on sale, because they're tied up with Christmas ribbons, and they're practically PRESCRIPTION truffles. Because once again, I showed up at my OB appointment having gained zero pounds. The baby... Read more →


A blobby ghost baby! Congratulations, self. Oh. Right. One other little thing... It's a boy. We're having ANOTHER BOY. I've been sitting here trying to think of something else to say. Except. ANOTHER BOY. Jason: If this were the 1500s, you'd be really popular. Amy: Seriously. Henry VIII would be all over me. He'd probably have you killed. Doctor: Um, okaaaay...and that's a foot, right there. Another boy. Another giant-headed, adorable, perfect baby boy. Read more →


I Wrote This Because I Don't Know What Else To Do With Myself

First of all, thank you for everybody who commented yesterday with ideas and suggestions and just plain old-fashioned reassurances about Noah's non-hunger strike. At this point, it seems like the kid just isn't hungry yet, with no underlying secondary health issue lurking in the shadows, because he is otherwise completely symptomless. He'll nibble on pizza crusts and Cheerios here and there, then STILL run around like he's been pumped full of pixie stix and caffeine. For the record, I dropped a full 10 pounds during my own flu tussle the weekend before last, just because I had no appetite and couldn't smell anything so food tasted like paste for multiple goddamn days. I eventually just forced myself to eat the paste-food, what with the GROWING AND SUSTAINING OF LIFE side gig I've got going on, but since Noah has no secondary higher purpose like that, I'm guessing he just needs a little more time for the congestion to fully clear and give him his taste buds back. What's been great this winter -- and here you will fully see the low, low depths a mother will sink to in search of something she can describe as "great" -- is that... Read more →


Oh my hell, I am 19 weeks pregnant. And a half! Pregnancy-wise, I am feeling...oddly great. A little tired, a little prone to lightheadedness or wooziness if I jump up off the couch too quickly (solution: don't ever bother getting off the couch), though probably a little MORE prone to snappishness and short-temperedness at my husband and children. I have enough of that last thing sometimes that I have to occasionally ask myself "What the fuck is your problem, man?" And that's when I remember that oh my hell, I am 19 and a half weeks pregnant. That is my problem. LAY OFF ME, ASSHOLES, THIS IS ACTUALLY A LOT HARDER THAN I AM LETTING ON. I was *thisclose* to five whole pounds gained after Christmas -- a job well done, and one that I was quite proud of, those pastry-wrapped sausages didn't just eat themselves, you know -- but then lost seven during the Extended Flu Remix of the past week, and am once again looking at the exact same number on the scale as the day I handed a positive pee stick in an envelope to my groggy, recently anesthetized husband and yelled SURPRISE! REAL GLAD TO HEAR... Read more →


A Pregnant Woman's Ultimate Dream TV Wish List

Or, A List of TV Shows That Don't Actually Exist Yet, But Totally Should Or Or, Why I Should Be In Charge of a Television Network Already Or Or Or, Why I Should Probably Never Be In Charge of a Television Network This post is brought to you by XFINITY from Comcast. Watch all your favorite shows from anywhere with XFINITY TV. The views expressed here are solely those of the author and do not necessarily represent the views of Comcast or its partners. MAN V. (PREGNANT LADY) FOOD In which Adam Richman is challenged to explore and partake of some the craziest, weirdest pregnancy cravings from across the country. Forget pickles and chocolate ice cream, we're talking the seriously gross stuff you eat right out of the fridge when no one's home, like bologna-wrapped summer sausage or black olives dipped in pudding. Got a secret desire for a Wendy's Frosty using barbecue Pringles instead of a spoon? The ever-adorable Adam won't judge, he'll join in and declare it delicious. And in fact, you look so good and pretty and maternal right now, why don't you go ahead and order another one, super-sized this time? A BABY STORY SUPERCUT Takes... Read more →


Today is my birthday. I'm 33, and I just had to do math to figure that out for sure. My gift to myself is a shameless whore-out post with little or no point other than to rack up a lot of comments from people telling me happy birthday. It occurred to me last night that I've never actually been pregnant on my birthday. In fact, the occasion has usually marked the end of a long year of fruitless trying. I know I've made getting pregnant my official birthday wish at least three or four times, with two of those wishes coming true in just a matter of weeks. This time, I thought it would be nice to maybe start LOOKING pregnant by my birthday, if that wouldn't be too much trouble for the Fates or Birthday Candle Goblins or whoever is in charge of that sort of thing. Everything else is going so well, with the no-longer-feeling-like-a-walking-migraine-of-hork and feeling the honest-to-God kicking and OH, I DON'T KNOW, the whole fetus-remaining-alive thing and stuff. So I didn't want to press my luck. I swear I woke up this morning looking like I swallowed an entire tin of Christmas cookies. Which may... Read more →