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Hitting the big time

Yeah, that’s right. This blog is movin’ on up in the world: we’re about to have a guest blogger. You know, like the big kids do. My friend S. has some thoughts on the whole birthing experience, and since her story is a doozy I thought y’all would be interested. Be on the lookout for her post sometime in the next couple of days.

Friday Squotient Blogging

The category: drinks. Real drinks.

Squabby: Anything in a tiki mug. Lots of variety, free fruit/parasol/sword (or all of the above, if you’re lucky), and plus you can keep the mug! (Yes, I’m a sucker for these. You should see the cute panda tiki mug I have at home … no, maybe you shouldn’t.)

Squinny: A cosmopolitan. Classic, sophisticated, sassy. (Note: some squins may prefer martinis.)

Squotund: Single malt scotch. Neat. Why would you bother with anything else?

Monitorlicious

So, for the past few weeks, and until I actually spawn, I go to my doctor’s every Thursday for a “biophysical profile” (BPP). For the uninitiated, this is a series of procedures that check in on the fetus just to make sure it’s still doing A-OK in utero. Most women don’t have to do this, but because I have the double whammy of gestational diabetes and (mild) hypertension, I get the deluxe treatment. Now, I’m all about keeping tabs on this young one, and there are aspects of the process that are sort of fun, but I’m also experiencing a fair amount of performance anxiety, and frankly, I don’t need the stress!

The way it works is, there are two parts to the BPP, and each part gets a certain score. The first part of the BPP is an ultrasound. This section is worth 8 points. The technician lubes me up and we look at the baby until it moves and “breathes” enough times to get a passing score. At a minimum, you get monitored for about 10 minutes; maximum (if the kid’s not cooperating) you get monitored for 30 minutes. If the baby kicks around and makes breathing motions right away, you’re golden. If not, you wait around and hope. Hoss is pretty kicky, so the movement part is normally no problem (yesterday Hoss was holding one of its feet with its little hand, which was pretty cute to witness). The breathing motions usually take a little longer, but eventually we’ll see the accordion-like movements in Hoss’s ribcage, and I’ll get 8/8 points for the ultrasound. Seeing the little squirt on a weekly basis is kind of fun, I admit. And while it’s a little stressful when Hoss is being coy or sleepy or whatever, so far he or she has been fairly cooperative and the ultrasounds have been OK.

The second part of the BPP is what’s called a “non-stress test.” This is where they sit you down in a faux leather recliner, tilt you back, and strap a couple of monitors to your belly. One tracks you, one tracks the baby’s heartrate. What they’re looking for in this section is the baby’s “reactivity,” which means that instead of seeing a nice, steady heartrate, they want to see some fluctuations of at least 15 points from the baseline. So if Hoss’s regular rate is about 135, they want to see some spikes to at least 150 (usually the rate spikes when the baby moves, or “reacts” to something). This is the part that is stressing me OUT. Because it would seem that I have a particularly mellow child. It’s not that Hoss doesn’t move around while we’re being monitored – he/she turns and kicks pretty regularly. But that damn heartrate will not spike. It’ll fluctuate some, sure, but not enough to count. The stressful part about it is that I can see the monitors the whole time, so I feel like I’m engaged in some kind of fucked-up biofeedback system. Like, when I feel Hoss move and see the numbers not spiking, I get this irrational urge to will the numbers higher. I should be able to control it, right? It’s my body!! Only, of course, I’m sharing that body right now with my own personal yogi-baby-parasite, who can apparently perform great feats of contortion without significant exertion. So every time I go in, I get 8/8 for the ultrasound, and 0/2 for the non-stress test. (Non-stress, my ass.) I can’t lie – it feels like failure. I usually ace exams! I studied hard for this one! Heck, last time I even “cheated” and drank coffee right before the exam just for a little performance booster! Why can’t I get those last two points?!?!

What’s silly about this is that under normal circumstances I’d have nowhere near this level of scrutiny, and it would probably be just fine. As long as I could still feel the baby moving and things seemed healthy, no one would worry – and rightly so. And, in fact, my doctors aren’t really worried – as long as the ultrasounds look good, they seem OK with the results overall. I mean, maybe the baby IS just mellow – I should be so lucky! Nevertheless, it bothers me at some fundamental level that I can’t manage a perfect score. It’s irrational, but there it is. A high-risk pregnancy is already fraught with tensions and worries that normal pregnancies know not of (so to speak). For the most part, the heightened level of care associated with this pregnancy has been as helpful in alleviating my anxiety as it has been in tracking the progress of my soon-to-be baby. It’s interesting to me (at an intellectual level, anyway) that the exact opposite outcome is equally possible. They say ignorance is bliss, and in this case, I tell you what: I believe it.

Personal DNA

I am a …

Seeing this one everywhere – it’s pretty fun to take! Mouse over the color blocks to see my results, or click on the link to find out your own.

Bisy Backson

Show opening this week.
Doing scenic design.
Also still unpacking.
Plus: pregs.

Upshot: no posting today. Maybe tomorrow?

She’s annoying because she’s SHALLOW, not because she’s female.

Via the HuffPost I came upon this little opinion piece in the NYT on the widely rumored defection of Katie Couric to the CBS evening news anchor position. Now, I’m not a huge Couric fan – I find her insipid and frankly a really lame interviewer, no matter what the topic – but she doesn’t offend me anywhere near as much as the specious “reasoning” in this article. A few prime examples:

“Ms. Couric has understandably attracted a lot of attention, because the evening anchors who have sat in those chairs and held our hands through wars, terror attacks and natural cataclysms have almost always been men. Part of it is practical — networks need a Zeus to maintain order in the pantheon — and much of it is testosterone. If this a war, then everyone likes having a general around. Or at least, someone who looks like one.”

Um … right. It’s purely “practical” that most evening news anchors have been men. Practical in the sense that the evening news is like … Mount Olympus (wtf?!) … and, er, we all know that Zeus ruled the roost up there, so … um … ergo, male anchors. Yeah. Good one.

“The route to the anchor chair generally travels through a series of foreign and political assignments, weekend tryouts and then, finally, when someone dies or falters, a shot at the bigs. Ms. Couric has usually been the one to get the interview with the president’s wife, not the president, and the only war zone she has reported from is the long-running one among the morning shows.”

OK, first of all, I don’t think this statement is even factually true – Couric has interviewed plenty of big-time heads of state, just as Matt Lauer has interviewed his share of soccer moms. But even if it WERE true, how is that any indication of her abilities? I’m not saying that experience doesn’t count at all in this situation, but surely Couric has picked up the requisite interviewing skills in her tenure at The Today Show.

“Will the head-and-shoulders shot suit Ms. Couric? The two jobs are remarkably different, with the morning job seeming to be the much more difficult one. The evening anchor is generally on for little more than five minutes, doing hand-offs and interviewing experienced network hands. The news is the star.

In the morning, Ms. Couric is on for three hours at a stretch, pivoting between dead Marines and cute dolphins at marine parks. Her husky giggle, which has been music to audiences for almost 15 years, would not get much of a workout at night, and her legs, admired everywhere, would disappear under the anchor desk.”

Oh, give me a fucking break already. So IS it a tough job or ISN’T it? If she’s just on “for 5 minutes” then what’s the problem with not having worked exclusively in political reporting up to this point? And Jesus, can you imagine a legit writer EVER talking about Brian Williams’ “husky giggle” or lamenting that his 6-pack abs have disappeared behind the anchor desk? I think not. The final paragraph really sums it all up:

“Sure, nothing gets competitive juices flowing at the networks like an anchor war. But the fact that networks seem willing to concede that the best man for the job is clearly a woman means that it just isn’t the same job anymore.”

Well, there you have it. If the “best man for the job” is a woman, then clearly the whole industry has gone to shit. Because it’s not like a woman could ACTUALLY be the best – perish the thought!

Grrr. I hate being forced into defending Katie Couric. But this crapola should have been tossed into the shredder before it ever saw the printer.

Grey’s Anatomy Open Thread

Any reactions to last night’s show? My responses: Can George please get a real haircut? And I don’t want Addison and Dr. McDreamy to work it out!

On a side note, could the weather be any CRAPPIER in Minneapolis today? Survey says: no.

Friday Squotient Blogging

The category: Shoes.

Squabby shoe: comfy! Asymmetrical! Plus, snails!

Squinny shoe: high fashion; designer label; intimidating for the uninitiated

Squotund shoe: Simple. Unfussy. Comfortable. Ecologically sound.

Confused? See here and here.

Um … CHLOE?

Like, whoa. That one took me totally by surprise. Santino’s collection was way out of character, so I think he dug his own grave on that one, but I thought for sure it would go to Daniel – his collection was totally the most versatile and wearable! Chloe’s dresses were (mostly) pretty, but she reused the same fabrics too often and the whole line was kind of same-ish. But I will say that Chloe did a much better job contextualizing her collection and articulating what made her different from the others. And it’s pretty awesome that a woman won. I just … never thought she’d get it!

Oh, also – Oscars liveblogging has finally been grabbed off my laptop and can be found here. If you’re innerested.

For the record

1) The moving? And unpacking? In the third trimester? Yeah. Probably wouldn’t do that again.

2) You can read all you want to about the sensation of your ligaments loosening up in readiness for the labor process, but until you actually experience it you have no idea how goddamn uncomfortable it is. Seriously. It takes me a good minute and a half to even be able to WALK after I’ve been sitting down for a while. And I don’t mean walking like a normal person. I mean walking like a disabled penguin. A disabled, retarded penguin.

3) Hoss enjoys: Chinese food (mmm, kung pao chicken), Indian food (mmmm … palak paneer), Italian food (mmm … Fat Lorenzo’s hot meatball hoagie), and virtually any form of cereal, hot or cold. Hoss does NOT enjoy: chocolate milk (wtf, kid?), Power Bars, anything that tastes too fleshy, or anything from Don Pablo’s (because, dude: all your clothes smell like BO after you leave that place. Blech.)

4) Two things that are making me happy this week: Our new dishwasher (oh, sweet jeebus do I love having a dishwasher – it’s been almost 4 years!), and 600 count pure cotton sheets. God, they’re soft. (It should be noted that I owe my enjoyment of both items to my stepmom, who, I need hardly add, rocks.)

5) So, the Project Runway finale is tonight. Who do you think will win? I was thinking Daniel, but now I’m all like, it could be Santino. Not sure how I feel about that.