so i hung out with my mom and Bà Tiến yesterday who my mom tricked into going up to North County and having dinner with my sister for the whole afternoon and evening. Like most Vinamese people, she prefers the xe máy|moped to the xe hơi|auto as a form of transportation. at least she doesn't get sooo carsick that she's vomiting all the time like most Vinamese people. she's here visiting my Bà Ngoại from Thử Đức, outside Sài Gòn. she has the same country accent as Bà Ngoại; says an emphatic không with that voiceless nasal release at the end that makes many people think that most vinamese words end in a p/b because the lips come together and the sound is unvoiced, and retroflexes all her voiced alveolar fricatives. so dì|maternal aunty sounds almost like rì and dễ thương|cute, loveable sounds like rễ thương.
so in addition to Bà Tiến giving me a nickname based on my condition Bầu (the equivalent of calling me "Preggie". oh, this is where i get that reductive nickname tendency from!*) she also said i have healing powers. so vinamese folks believe a first-time pregnant mom has the ability to heal people by massaging or squeezing or pressing the painful area according to how many vitalities they have (men have 7; women have 9). so she had me acupressure a spot at the top of her head where she had previously given herself a goose-egg/concussion. what could i do but comply. i don't know if her head pain has gone. my mom and dad who don't "believe" nevertheless had me squeeze their painful elbow, wrist as well as Bà Ngoại's more paralyzed right arm. who knows if it'll work. i mean if i can generate Life cell-by-cell, then it stands to reason. what can't i do?
i have healing powers. cool.
oh, and how happy am i that Henry's (the local more natural grocery store now operated by Wild Oats) has bulk mexican candies? i can have my tejocote and be lead-free... mom is under strict orders to memorize the location & serpentina candy appearance so she can keep me well-supplied. i'm already running out and am awaiting my next shipment along with my maternity áo dài.
*it could also be that she finds my Hawaiian name a pain to pronounce since its three syllables. remember its a monosyllabic language.
Friday, August 31, 2007
Thursday, August 30, 2007
rất là ngon!
i've been waiting, patiently (more because i don't have a choice than desire), for food to be delicious during this pregnancy. it's been okay. but, there's always a but; it's too béo|fatty-oily, too bland, too repetitive, too not fresh, too unexciting, always something missing. i thought, maybe i'm just missing home cooking (i can't say mom's cooking, because dad does most of the cooking) because even vinamese food leaves me unenthusiastic whether homemade or restaurant (too much MSG!). so i came home with loads of requests.
last night at dinner, i was a wee disappointed with my dad's hủ tiếu. i added chanh|lemon and thought maybe if i added nước mấm, that might fix it (to my dad's horror; i realized when i was finishing for second dinner how salty it was as a result.) so i resignedly thought maybe food was just going to be blah for the rest of the pregnancy. so sad.
then, mama took the leftovers and made the secret sauce dad forgot to make last night (probably because i was HUNGRY! and he wanted to feed me right away). and there, it was for breakfast--hủ tiếu Bà Năm Sà Đẹc. now if you've been fortunate enough to venture out of phở territory (but please don't do it at a phở restaurant. phở is their specialty, don't wander to the other 25 items on the menu. it won't be good and won't do your tastebuds or the dish justice) most likely in San Jo unless you've been to a friend's mom's house, you may be acquainted with hủ tiếu|pork & seafood noodle soup. i lack words to describe the difference now; prolly the foodbuzz kickin in. look here for more verbiage later XXXX. (um, mom just cursed me and my ancestors|tiên sư mày because i'm back in here typing instead of eating. but i'm full already and am saving the rest for later. i do small meals. if i eat too much, i get indigestion and i look like i'm 7 months pregnant because my stomach & intestines are all topside.)
hủ tiếu Bà Năm Sà Đẹc is a specialty dish created by Bà Năm|Mrs. Five (chinese numbering influence here) of the town Sà Đẹc in the Mê-Kông Đelta. yes, it was so damn good, the dish is hereafter named after her. it's still pork & seafood. it's still glass noodles *except* it's served dry with the secret sauce and the pork broth on the side. the secret sauce is what makes the dish. i had heretofore thought that the sauce was a form of riêu (crab or shrimp roe blended with spices and used to make bún riêu). but it's not. it's dried shrimp--the dense flavorful meaty vinamese kind. accept no substitutes--soaked, strained, pan fried (no oil) to re-dry, finely minced with shallots, garlic & tomato paste. it's better than ketchup, and that's saying alot. this was exactly what was missing last night! dollops of the Bà Năm Sà Đẹc sauce, a little chanh. my tastebuds rejoice! even though 2 times in a row is my max for any dish, i may have to eat more for second breakfast.
ah, and some freshly homemade sửa đậu nành lá dứa|soybean juice flavored with pandan. life is good.
in the words of my friend Tuyền, rất là ngon!
last night at dinner, i was a wee disappointed with my dad's hủ tiếu. i added chanh|lemon and thought maybe if i added nước mấm, that might fix it (to my dad's horror; i realized when i was finishing for second dinner how salty it was as a result.) so i resignedly thought maybe food was just going to be blah for the rest of the pregnancy. so sad.
then, mama took the leftovers and made the secret sauce dad forgot to make last night (probably because i was HUNGRY! and he wanted to feed me right away). and there, it was for breakfast--hủ tiếu Bà Năm Sà Đẹc. now if you've been fortunate enough to venture out of phở territory (but please don't do it at a phở restaurant. phở is their specialty, don't wander to the other 25 items on the menu. it won't be good and won't do your tastebuds or the dish justice) most likely in San Jo unless you've been to a friend's mom's house, you may be acquainted with hủ tiếu|pork & seafood noodle soup. i lack words to describe the difference now; prolly the foodbuzz kickin in. look here for more verbiage later XXXX. (um, mom just cursed me and my ancestors|tiên sư mày because i'm back in here typing instead of eating. but i'm full already and am saving the rest for later. i do small meals. if i eat too much, i get indigestion and i look like i'm 7 months pregnant because my stomach & intestines are all topside.)
hủ tiếu Bà Năm Sà Đẹc is a specialty dish created by Bà Năm|Mrs. Five (chinese numbering influence here) of the town Sà Đẹc in the Mê-Kông Đelta. yes, it was so damn good, the dish is hereafter named after her. it's still pork & seafood. it's still glass noodles *except* it's served dry with the secret sauce and the pork broth on the side. the secret sauce is what makes the dish. i had heretofore thought that the sauce was a form of riêu (crab or shrimp roe blended with spices and used to make bún riêu). but it's not. it's dried shrimp--the dense flavorful meaty vinamese kind. accept no substitutes--soaked, strained, pan fried (no oil) to re-dry, finely minced with shallots, garlic & tomato paste. it's better than ketchup, and that's saying alot. this was exactly what was missing last night! dollops of the Bà Năm Sà Đẹc sauce, a little chanh. my tastebuds rejoice! even though 2 times in a row is my max for any dish, i may have to eat more for second breakfast.
ah, and some freshly homemade sửa đậu nành lá dứa|soybean juice flavored with pandan. life is good.
in the words of my friend Tuyền, rất là ngon!
body-mind connection
it's the sad nature of modern living that we exist mostly in our heads. our bodies are an afterthought. hence the bodily afflictions that ail most of us--migraines, sciataca, the dreaded RSI, -itis, muscular tension, aches and pains, menstrual cycles.
my youngest aunty conceived best while drunk (as the family story goes. at least my version of it). drunk as heo on her wedding. and vacation drunk while trying to get over the depression that the doctor's diagnosis of early menopause (at 40!) and infertility had induced. i hope she fired her doctor who was wrongwrongwrong!
my sister conceived Anabelle after goodbye sex while on a sister's trip visiting me in Oakland over the july 4th weekend.
i have a friend who conceived while celebrating the fact that her artist husband finally finished art school and got a job!
my youngest aunty conceived best while drunk (as the family story goes. at least my version of it). drunk as heo on her wedding. and vacation drunk while trying to get over the depression that the doctor's diagnosis of early menopause (at 40!) and infertility had induced. i hope she fired her doctor who was wrongwrongwrong!
my sister conceived Anabelle after goodbye sex while on a sister's trip visiting me in Oakland over the july 4th weekend.
i have a friend who conceived while celebrating the fact that her artist husband finally finished art school and got a job!
Wednesday, August 29, 2007
where's the silent majority?
hmm... i was watching Sai-Gon TV earlier today and saw that there was yet another anti-comm!e protest in OC. this time outside the office of OC vinamese periodical VietWeekly. Vinamese newspapers are rarely controversial given the high rate of mortality for Vinamese American journalists--Chauncey Bailey's assasinat!on is not an uncommon occurrence in Viettown; it's an occupational hazard of journalism in our community--so, this is noteworthy and commonplace all at the same time.
i don't have anything substantial to blog. as yet. (mom is reminding me not to sit in front of computer too long since i did work from home on my vacation all pm so... it's almost time for second dinner. hủ tiếu|pork & seafood glass noodle soup. mmm. i pity those whose only experience of vinamese noodle soup is phở. so let's do a san jose trip & revive our eat-around-the-world monthly dates.)
here are the articles:
A History of Violence: A brief history of anti-comm!e attacks
Red scare in Lil Sai-Gon
Waiting with red-baited breath
this is the kind of black-and-white manichean binary as Fanon outs it, that we still have yet to evolve from and that keeps locked in a cycle of violence on a global scale. it's all to easy to deny your opposition/opponent/adversary/competitor their humanity and cast them as the (plug in a derogatory fearmongering -ist adjective of choice: commie, capitalist, socialst, racist, separatist etc.) enemy and to employ the same dirty tactics as you accuse the other side of engaging in.
is freedom of speech really only an ideological tool of the Nation-State that only upper-/middle-class white americans purport to enjoy?
i don't have anything substantial to blog. as yet. (mom is reminding me not to sit in front of computer too long since i did work from home on my vacation all pm so... it's almost time for second dinner. hủ tiếu|pork & seafood glass noodle soup. mmm. i pity those whose only experience of vinamese noodle soup is phở. so let's do a san jose trip & revive our eat-around-the-world monthly dates.)
here are the articles:
A History of Violence: A brief history of anti-comm!e attacks
Red scare in Lil Sai-Gon
Waiting with red-baited breath
this is the kind of black-and-white manichean binary as Fanon outs it, that we still have yet to evolve from and that keeps locked in a cycle of violence on a global scale. it's all to easy to deny your opposition/opponent/adversary/competitor their humanity and cast them as the (plug in a derogatory fearmongering -ist adjective of choice: commie, capitalist, socialst, racist, separatist etc.) enemy and to employ the same dirty tactics as you accuse the other side of engaging in.
is freedom of speech really only an ideological tool of the Nation-State that only upper-/middle-class white americans purport to enjoy?
preggie snacks
though i don't snack so much as have a small meal (hence second breakfast and second lunch, i do on occasion snack. patics when there is no fridge/kitchen/restaurant in sight). ergo, the best pregnancy snacks ever:
- seaweed--contains iron, folic acid and loads of minerals similar in composition to the human body and it flushes out lead & mercury! i love the toasted korean kind with sesame oil & salt. my favorite brand "Well-being" is sprinkled with black sesame. and y'know, the darker the berry, the more nutritious the juice. the toasting kills some nutrients, but it's still tasty.
- bananas with almond butter and maybe some honey drizzled over--some protein, carbs & fiber to get me through the night. that elvis knew a thing about it. and this month he is sposedly 30 years dead.
- broiled bananas--it's like fried bananas without the fried, add some coconut sorbet and mmm! who needs to make a run to the Thai restaurant. or some grated dark chocolate spinkled over. yumyum!
- macadamia nuts--protein & iron to tide you over in between the second breakfast and the first lunch. i'm over walnuts right now. i first trimestered them into untastiness. no macadamia i will never tire of. i used to pick macadamia from the bush on the side of the house on Piikoi crack'em open with rocks and eat 'em raw. i so missed the flavor that my mom once pulled over and asked a random neighbor if she could pick their macadamias for me. yup, i love being the baby of the family.
- mangoes--preferably green with nước mấm đường|fish sauce & sugar OR muối ớt|salt & fresh chile. if they're ripe, then eaten godzilla-style: with skin on, slice mangoes parallel to seed. leave skin on and cut the flesh into cubes without breaking the skin (like an avocado). the victorious sibling gets to eat the best part, the seed. take the cubed slice in the skin and flip it inside out and eat them like godzilla eating all the buildings in downtown Tokyo. reminds me of my childhood on Piikoi Street picking all the green mangoes to my parents perpetual dismay since they preferred it ripe.
- almond butter & raspberry preserves on rudy's organic multi-grain spelt bread--i'm on this wheat & dairy-free diet for my allergies (it's been great! no allergies this spring). and this brand and kind of spelt bread is the only thing that doesnt taste like sawdust or uber-healthy brick bread. peanuts actually being ground legumes absorb soil toxins like a sponge, so almonds are better for you in addition to being good for you. this is my there's nothing in the fridge i want to eat and yet i'm hungry option. i haven't gotten tired of it yet thankfully.
- coconut juice--what's there to say? it's like a sports drink only au naturel choc full of calcium & iron and minerals. keep an eye on this as the next new natural health trend.
- tamarind--this was our favorite movie snack. forget popcorn. crack open the thin shell, peel the fibers and it's mouthwateringly tart and only slightly sweet. only chile could make this better. this is why i love mexican candy.
- dandelion tea/infusion--this pretty weed has loads of calcium folic acid & iron (more than spinach!) and it helps to flush your liver (dee pehl eez in dee rirver). infusion is more concentrated than tea. it's easy to do and its a damn sight cheaper to buy in bulk than to buy pre-bagged tea.
- raspberry leaf tea/infusion--tones your uterus and iron galore! hmm, shall we say pussy galore?
Tuesday, August 28, 2007
little musings
today was rough.
i was vomiting bile from the time i got up and couldn't keep anything down. midwife thinks its morning sickness. i'm a little disgruntled and grumpy by the idea that somehow morning sickness could skip over the entire first trimester and pimp-slap me in my 4th month. i now appreciate how easy i had it and how it could make a woman reconsider having another child.
since it was my last day in the office before my mini-break to see family in San Diego, i had to drag myself in and do payroll (i hope staff appreciates their paycheck!) and all the time-sensitive tasks for the 30th Anniversary Gala at my social justice day-job of which i am the chair having been nominated & voted in by default of being the only non-busy person at the time and virtue of the fact that i had recently put together my wedding (a fulltime job in and of itself), and am the first to volunteer to plan all the office parties, and was therefore the "ideal event planner". i have to fundraise $60K gross. we're about $4k along with less than two months to go. i'm only slightly nervous.
so i held it together for the first hour of a morning program staff meeting i had forgotten about and then passed out on the sofa nearby, absorbing the rest of the meeting via osmosis. i managed to get most everything followed up & in motion with a slurry of emails and headed home early afternoon.
i think either it was the lack of vegetables this weekend since i was at 2 BBQs and hooters (who knew it was so family-friendly. the kids practically outnumbered the adults!). or perhaps its the psycho-somatic thing i've heard about, how emotional well-being impacts your health particularly when you are so pregnant-sensitive and is particularly connected with morning sickness.
today was also my dad's solar death anniversary. twenty years.
it just sorrows me that he'll know know his grandchild in this life. never hứng or cuddle or mock bite or gently tease til bé shrieks with delight. of course my stepdad will be there for bé
and be all those things for her/him. he loves babies unreservedly. and he is a responsible, kind, loving and generous person. they only time i didnt get along with him was those rebellious teenage years. if anything T. is similar to him, a Southerner, though T's a light-skinded one. what they say about marrying your father... my sis and i both married Snakes, like our stepdad. i don't lack for loving Asian men in my life and i'm not playing out my father issues in my relationships unlike say AmyTan kinds of Asian-American women.
and still... i miss Ba, his voice, the distinctive malarial timbre of his cough, the raspiness of his facial hair and how he would tickle me with it, the sound of his laughter, his genuine amusement at my small defiances, his smell, his hugs and kisses soothing me. all the ephemeralia that i can no longer recall, dimmed by time's passage.
here comes the bile again
fallin on my head like a memory
raining on my head like a new emotion
i was vomiting bile from the time i got up and couldn't keep anything down. midwife thinks its morning sickness. i'm a little disgruntled and grumpy by the idea that somehow morning sickness could skip over the entire first trimester and pimp-slap me in my 4th month. i now appreciate how easy i had it and how it could make a woman reconsider having another child.
since it was my last day in the office before my mini-break to see family in San Diego, i had to drag myself in and do payroll (i hope staff appreciates their paycheck!) and all the time-sensitive tasks for the 30th Anniversary Gala at my social justice day-job of which i am the chair having been nominated & voted in by default of being the only non-busy person at the time and virtue of the fact that i had recently put together my wedding (a fulltime job in and of itself), and am the first to volunteer to plan all the office parties, and was therefore the "ideal event planner". i have to fundraise $60K gross. we're about $4k along with less than two months to go. i'm only slightly nervous.
so i held it together for the first hour of a morning program staff meeting i had forgotten about and then passed out on the sofa nearby, absorbing the rest of the meeting via osmosis. i managed to get most everything followed up & in motion with a slurry of emails and headed home early afternoon.
i think either it was the lack of vegetables this weekend since i was at 2 BBQs and hooters (who knew it was so family-friendly. the kids practically outnumbered the adults!). or perhaps its the psycho-somatic thing i've heard about, how emotional well-being impacts your health particularly when you are so pregnant-sensitive and is particularly connected with morning sickness.
today was also my dad's solar death anniversary. twenty years.
it just sorrows me that he'll know know his grandchild in this life. never hứng or cuddle or mock bite or gently tease til bé shrieks with delight. of course my stepdad will be there for bé
and be all those things for her/him. he loves babies unreservedly. and he is a responsible, kind, loving and generous person. they only time i didnt get along with him was those rebellious teenage years. if anything T. is similar to him, a Southerner, though T's a light-skinded one. what they say about marrying your father... my sis and i both married Snakes, like our stepdad. i don't lack for loving Asian men in my life and i'm not playing out my father issues in my relationships unlike say AmyTan kinds of Asian-American women.
and still... i miss Ba, his voice, the distinctive malarial timbre of his cough, the raspiness of his facial hair and how he would tickle me with it, the sound of his laughter, his genuine amusement at my small defiances, his smell, his hugs and kisses soothing me. all the ephemeralia that i can no longer recall, dimmed by time's passage.
here comes the bile again
fallin on my head like a memory
raining on my head like a new emotion
Friday, August 24, 2007
whatta man, whatta man, whatta man
what a mighty good man
T. says if i'm going to tell people about all his funny messups then i have to balance out with how good he is to me. so without further ado, my man is the best cuz
You know he has my heart
He is my shining star
My girls, they understand
I'm talking about my man
T. says if i'm going to tell people about all his funny messups then i have to balance out with how good he is to me. so without further ado, my man is the best cuz
- today, i woke up at 3am to pee & eat, and woke him up because our door hinges squeak. (yeh, we need some beeswax) we lay restlessly awake for an hour and half. and then he gave me a massage so i could fall back asleep.
- he always knows when i'm thirsty and gets water for me before i even ask
- he always gets food & heats it up for me when i'm hungry and lazy
- he cooks when i don't want to touch or smell food and is always willing to walk over to Lucky and get whatever veggie/meat i feel like eating
- he does the yard work (it's a quarter acre. this is significant.)
- he is never disappointed or judgemental when i have coffee
- he downloads all the episodes of my fave shows and burns them on a DVD
- he understands my lazy non-verbal vocalizations (mostly)
- he thinks my baby bump is hot (even when its mostly gas)
- he carries heavy things so i don't hurt my back again
- he talks to the baby in vinamese
- he chiều-s me (this isn't quite translatable. closest is indulge.)
- the way he hứng me (if you don't know what this is, i don't have the heart to tell you what you're missin out on)
You know he has my heart
He is my shining star
My girls, they understand
I'm talking about my man
Thursday, August 23, 2007
Wednesday, August 22, 2007
paletas deliciosas
LA Times just did a food piece on paletas (mexican fresh fruit popsicles. are they quiescently frozen?). now, when i was a young'un coasting about in San D, Tijuana and Cuernavaca, tamarindo was my favorite so i never did try the other flavors so much.paleta de mango con chile sounds really really good right now. as does piña con chamoy. mmm chamoy. even thought they have lead i them, i miss mexican candy. pulpa rago de chamoy, chaca chaca, lucas, vero elotes, pulpitas, pulparindo, pelucas, pelon... funnily enough, it's similar flavors as VN food--sour, sweet & spicy all at the same time.
Monday, August 20, 2007
the land of maternity
i've gained approx 5 lbs and 2 inches on my bust, waist & hips. va-va-va-voom. i need to eat every 2-3 hours and i still have to pee a whole lot. oh and i'm mental toast by 9.30pm. i still fight it like i am 7 trying to finish a book under the covers with a flashlight waaayyy after bedtime, but i'm mentally useless. let's not even bring up what's going on downtown.
though i look relatively un-pregnant in the mornings (in my own estimation since everyone else seems to think they can tell. maybe its me knitting baby booties that's the dead giveaway? or is it just my "glow"?), by day's end through the effluvia of digestion, anatomical positionality of my intestines, and the gassiness that accompanies pregnancy (no one tells you about the gassiness!), i look like a very pregnant lima bean and waddle a wee bit. in other words, everything is still functioning like it did B.P.|Before Pregnant. i spose i could suck it in, but i'm pregnant and my ego has allowed me to let go of that particular vanity. but don't think i haven't noticed all the random strangers staring at my belly. or at least it seems that way.
i've been able to get away with the rubberband trick of wearing my jeans unbuttoned and partially unzipped with only a rubberband to hold it up, with a maternity band or a long tank as cover. but it's getting to that unsightly, uncomfortable point. we're talking muffin top and pressure on the bladder/womb. plus it's summer. i spose i could just wear sweatpants to work, but it's summer. i did get some great hand-me-downs from Lily, but they're mostly fall-winter clothes and it's y'know, summer.
so this saturday T&i ventured maternity clothes shopping. harder than it sounds. apparently all the maternity stores are in Marin or Walnut Creek well over 25 minutes away (may not sound like much to non-Bay Area folks, but that's a different county, the post-meltdown MacArthur Maze & the San Rafael toll bridge *or* the Caldecott tunnel in traffic so add on an additional 30 minutes!). y'know, the burbs where apparently people actually procreate. so we ended up in the small way way back section surrounded by newborn clothes at a local ghetto Old Navy which has dirt cheap sweatshop maternity clothes that are relatively stylish on this side of the millenia (meaning it's not above the belly farmer pants). because why would i pay more than $20 for something i'm only going to wear for a few months?
okay, so maternity clothes suck. you can either look like you are trying to hide your belly like a modern version of some victorian shame (or in my adolescent reality, the highschool cheerleader in denial. i knew a lot of those. my high school if we had not already established, was 'tween the barrio & the base and a third the girls were knocked up by senior year.) or you can look like you are trying to show off your belly like you're any number of knocked-up blond celebrity.
and at this stage (i'm between 13 to 15 weeks depending), you're a little screwed. you're not showing enough to wear the huge belly accomodating maternity clothes and you're not fitting into non-pregnant clothes. factor into account, seasonal needs, undergarments, and you get the complicated idea. oh, and somemommy please explain to me what a maternity bra is and what is the modern miraculous feat of adjustable engineering that will enable me to wear this for the next 5 months without chafing? (no one tells you about the chafing!)
and what's with all the ruching? maternity clothes are ruched up the yin-yang. i didn't like ruching B.P. (does nothing for my curves but make me look stocky), so why the heo, would i like it now?
so i got some khaki cargo capris that are only somewhat odd fitting (Old Navy is anything but consistent) with an underside-of-the-belly, wide elastic waistband (great for those multiple pee breaks. great invention that elastic.). but i spose i'll "grow" into it and long tanks still provide great coverage as per usual. and also some narrow elastic, below-the-belly "double waistband" brown pants that fit great on my hiney, are not bootleg (does anyone do straight leg any more?) and are only a little snug on my thighs (my perpetual dilemna since i got thick peasant legs but i'm used to that by now).
it's great to take your babydaddy maternity shopping btw. when i asked his opinion, T peered at my thighs close up and very helpfully said "weo, hopefully your thighs won't get any bigger."
no, i didn't not kick him, though he was well within range and deserved it. he got an amused, incredulous look and when he realized what he said, he tried to smother me with kisses and hugs and "beautiful-mother-of-my-child" platitudes. he's a regular babydaddy comedy routine. so i promised/threatened to broadcast his faux pas to all my girlfriends and let the ladies have at him. boys, shake your heads in disbelief and vow never to say such things when your babymomma is having a my-clothes-don't-fit-me-and-maternity-clothes-make-me-look-ginormous moment.
i just need to figure out how to milk this for all its worth.
so, this is my exciting life as a petry dish for procreation. ooh, time for second breakfast.
though i look relatively un-pregnant in the mornings (in my own estimation since everyone else seems to think they can tell. maybe its me knitting baby booties that's the dead giveaway? or is it just my "glow"?), by day's end through the effluvia of digestion, anatomical positionality of my intestines, and the gassiness that accompanies pregnancy (no one tells you about the gassiness!), i look like a very pregnant lima bean and waddle a wee bit. in other words, everything is still functioning like it did B.P.|Before Pregnant. i spose i could suck it in, but i'm pregnant and my ego has allowed me to let go of that particular vanity. but don't think i haven't noticed all the random strangers staring at my belly. or at least it seems that way.
i've been able to get away with the rubberband trick of wearing my jeans unbuttoned and partially unzipped with only a rubberband to hold it up, with a maternity band or a long tank as cover. but it's getting to that unsightly, uncomfortable point. we're talking muffin top and pressure on the bladder/womb. plus it's summer. i spose i could just wear sweatpants to work, but it's summer. i did get some great hand-me-downs from Lily, but they're mostly fall-winter clothes and it's y'know, summer.
so this saturday T&i ventured maternity clothes shopping. harder than it sounds. apparently all the maternity stores are in Marin or Walnut Creek well over 25 minutes away (may not sound like much to non-Bay Area folks, but that's a different county, the post-meltdown MacArthur Maze & the San Rafael toll bridge *or* the Caldecott tunnel in traffic so add on an additional 30 minutes!). y'know, the burbs where apparently people actually procreate. so we ended up in the small way way back section surrounded by newborn clothes at a local ghetto Old Navy which has dirt cheap sweatshop maternity clothes that are relatively stylish on this side of the millenia (meaning it's not above the belly farmer pants). because why would i pay more than $20 for something i'm only going to wear for a few months?
okay, so maternity clothes suck. you can either look like you are trying to hide your belly like a modern version of some victorian shame (or in my adolescent reality, the highschool cheerleader in denial. i knew a lot of those. my high school if we had not already established, was 'tween the barrio & the base and a third the girls were knocked up by senior year.) or you can look like you are trying to show off your belly like you're any number of knocked-up blond celebrity.
and at this stage (i'm between 13 to 15 weeks depending), you're a little screwed. you're not showing enough to wear the huge belly accomodating maternity clothes and you're not fitting into non-pregnant clothes. factor into account, seasonal needs, undergarments, and you get the complicated idea. oh, and somemommy please explain to me what a maternity bra is and what is the modern miraculous feat of adjustable engineering that will enable me to wear this for the next 5 months without chafing? (no one tells you about the chafing!)
and what's with all the ruching? maternity clothes are ruched up the yin-yang. i didn't like ruching B.P. (does nothing for my curves but make me look stocky), so why the heo, would i like it now?
so i got some khaki cargo capris that are only somewhat odd fitting (Old Navy is anything but consistent) with an underside-of-the-belly, wide elastic waistband (great for those multiple pee breaks. great invention that elastic.). but i spose i'll "grow" into it and long tanks still provide great coverage as per usual. and also some narrow elastic, below-the-belly "double waistband" brown pants that fit great on my hiney, are not bootleg (does anyone do straight leg any more?) and are only a little snug on my thighs (my perpetual dilemna since i got thick peasant legs but i'm used to that by now).
it's great to take your babydaddy maternity shopping btw. when i asked his opinion, T peered at my thighs close up and very helpfully said "weo, hopefully your thighs won't get any bigger."
no, i didn't not kick him, though he was well within range and deserved it. he got an amused, incredulous look and when he realized what he said, he tried to smother me with kisses and hugs and "beautiful-mother-of-my-child" platitudes. he's a regular babydaddy comedy routine. so i promised/threatened to broadcast his faux pas to all my girlfriends and let the ladies have at him. boys, shake your heads in disbelief and vow never to say such things when your babymomma is having a my-clothes-don't-fit-me-and-maternity-clothes-make-me-look-ginormous moment.
i just need to figure out how to milk this for all its worth.
so, this is my exciting life as a petry dish for procreation. ooh, time for second breakfast.
Friday, August 17, 2007
life lessons... with a breakbeat
have you ever had to sing "the wheels on the bus go round and round, round and round, round and round.. (from the top)" or "we just got a letter, we just got a letter, we just got a letter, wonder who its from?" or "hot dog hot dog hot diggety dog hot dog hot dog hot diggety dog!" or "We're gonna do the monkey (oh oh ah ah oh oh ah ah), Do the monkey (oh oh ah ah oh oh ah ah), Monkey, Monkey (oh oh ah ah oh oh ah ah), That's alright" or heaven forbid, the barney song?
you ever notice the only way to dance to those folksy songs is to rock from side to side or do the knee bend squats and maybe, if the kid is coordinated enough, clap in unison. odd pre-eminem white people dances that don't involve the hips, the shoulders, fluidity, sensuality (in its least erotic sense). without a rump-shaking bassline, how's a kid sposed to get any sense of rhythm and learn to dance? i've wondered. in white bread SD north county-burbia, i've seen the product of those breakbeat-less songs--i had to sit though Ms. Jamie's dance studio recital in may just to see Lily boss the other girls and yell-sing doing their little butterfly ballet performance for three minutes, and i witnessed Ms. Jamie's teen kids breakdance and weo,... they have timing, but they ain't got rhythm. the other product of those bassline-less songs is the noodle dance (no relation to the chicken noodle soup dance) usually performed by a barefoot white girl with fake-dreadlocks, multiple piercings, midriff baring halter top, and a gypsy skirt (african or indian), which involves pseudo-tribal writhing hips shoulders arms and a lack of sense about personal space. give wide berth to the flailing body parts. it really is an under-studied phenomenon; they congregate at Burning Man.
then i meandered across this new kids show with a breakbeat, Yo Gabba Gabba! clearly it was
created by someone who grew up in the 80s. (click on Foofa, the pink flower bubble to check out the videos). okay so the characters cant breakdance worth shit (or even do a credible version of the cabbage patch or the running man or the snake--and why cant Plex the robot actually do The Robot?--but then they are wearing bulky fuzzy costumes that render subtlety a moot exercise in futility. i'm not sure what DJ Lance's excuse is), but then neither can a 2 year old. i guess it's a good thing they aren't introducing downrock, headspinning, butterfly kicks or other power moves to your toddler b-boy/b-girl -in-training. now, the lyrics are still silly kid-friendly with a moral, but at least the beats are fresh & tight.
check out biz's beat of the day. learn to beatbox kids!
i am a big fan of saving money over proprietary licensed merchandise because paying over $25 for a onesie is outrageous (though i do secretly want a Baron Davis baby jersey) so i like that they have DIY YGG! iron-ons.
i like free even better than bootleg.
you ever notice the only way to dance to those folksy songs is to rock from side to side or do the knee bend squats and maybe, if the kid is coordinated enough, clap in unison. odd pre-eminem white people dances that don't involve the hips, the shoulders, fluidity, sensuality (in its least erotic sense). without a rump-shaking bassline, how's a kid sposed to get any sense of rhythm and learn to dance? i've wondered. in white bread SD north county-burbia, i've seen the product of those breakbeat-less songs--i had to sit though Ms. Jamie's dance studio recital in may just to see Lily boss the other girls and yell-sing doing their little butterfly ballet performance for three minutes, and i witnessed Ms. Jamie's teen kids breakdance and weo,... they have timing, but they ain't got rhythm. the other product of those bassline-less songs is the noodle dance (no relation to the chicken noodle soup dance) usually performed by a barefoot white girl with fake-dreadlocks, multiple piercings, midriff baring halter top, and a gypsy skirt (african or indian), which involves pseudo-tribal writhing hips shoulders arms and a lack of sense about personal space. give wide berth to the flailing body parts. it really is an under-studied phenomenon; they congregate at Burning Man.
then i meandered across this new kids show with a breakbeat, Yo Gabba Gabba! clearly it was
created by someone who grew up in the 80s. (click on Foofa, the pink flower bubble to check out the videos). okay so the characters cant breakdance worth shit (or even do a credible version of the cabbage patch or the running man or the snake--and why cant Plex the robot actually do The Robot?--but then they are wearing bulky fuzzy costumes that render subtlety a moot exercise in futility. i'm not sure what DJ Lance's excuse is), but then neither can a 2 year old. i guess it's a good thing they aren't introducing downrock, headspinning, butterfly kicks or other power moves to your toddler b-boy/b-girl -in-training. now, the lyrics are still silly kid-friendly with a moral, but at least the beats are fresh & tight.check out biz's beat of the day. learn to beatbox kids!
i am a big fan of saving money over proprietary licensed merchandise because paying over $25 for a onesie is outrageous (though i do secretly want a Baron Davis baby jersey) so i like that they have DIY YGG! iron-ons.
i like free even better than bootleg.
Wednesday, August 15, 2007
prenatals
we had our first medical prenatal yesterday. the experience was very different from our previous prenatal with our midwife.
WAITING ROOM
Selena, midwife--couch, play area for kids, water cooler, birth artwork
Dr. Chan, ob/gyn--chairs, magazines, pee on demand in a sterile cup, lovely baby & mama b&w glamor shots
WAIT TIME
midwife--5 minutes
ob--1.5 hours (approx one hour spent naked in a hospital gown and a tissue paper sheet.) medical assistant takes blood pressure and weighs me. i've gained about 5 pounds.
INITIAL CONSULTATION
midwife--2+hours: big hugs, trung next to me on the couch or bed, conversation about medical history, emotional process, experiences, parenting approach, cultural expectations, nutritional counseling (and some negotiation on getting optimal nutrients from food), expectations of the midwife's role, family involvement, snacks & water for the hungry pregnant lady, something to put my feet up on, pee when i need to in a dixie cup, assessment of our bé|baby's golden-orange aura & spirit, journalling assignments, drawing birth visualization exercise, lie on a bed fully clothed, blood pressure & heartrate, fetascope and gentle palpation on my abdomen, more big hugs, lots of reassurance of normality. no internal exams til 36 weeks.
ob--30 minutes: succinct clinical monotone apology for being one and a half hours late, made trung move his chair 3 feet away from me to make room for the ultrasound equipment, medical history intake, breast exam, crazy transformer dental chair that converts to spread eagled prone position with stirrups and my ass hanging over the edge (the less engagement from patients the better huh? keep 'em passive. though i was mind-numbed from the wait time, at least i wasn't strapped down), pap smear (yugh! do you know how sensitive my cervix is right now? she bleeds if you just look at her sideways), explanation of the practice while conducting an ambush bimanual internal exam (no warning! why do doctors think ambush & distraction is the best policy for unpleasant procedures?), ghost ultrasound and some hokey measurement, mentioning all the ways bé can have birth defects and the standard tests i can take with no explanation of risks, insistence on prenatal vitamins regardless of diet (i can already see her classifying me as non-compliant), no snacks or water (did i mention how hungry i was after 1.5 hours of mindless waiting?), handshake. not cold, but not warm. weo, neither were we.
anyways so after explaining to me that ultrasounds after the first trimester are not accurate in dating me being in the 14th week and all, she plops jelly on my belly and ultrasounds me on the pap smear chair-cum-table (seat came back up) with no where to put my feet. despite having seen my cervix and bimanually felt me up, she still had no idea where my uterus was and kept the device in the middle to no avail. so i finally had to tell her um, my uterus is on the left. and boom, there was the ghost of our bé (ok, maybe not like boom, all we saw were grey & black blurs. and its all grey and grainy like something out of The Ring, but not freaky scary. not bathed in golden light. just grey and ghostly. okay, so on the one hand, here's confirmation that bé has a head, arms & legs and a little chirping heart. a little more real. not just a figment of our imaginations. on the other hand, it's a ghost on a grey-black monitor being controlled, measured and assessed by some stranger who is insisting that according to her admittedly inaccurate ultrasound measurement, baby is only 11 weeks 5 days along and that therefore my due date is in March. and that just does not sound right to me. but then again, the delicate choreograph of menstruation, ovulation and conception responsive to mood, mentality and moon is not exactly science. and flying down to San D that last week of May thinking bà ngoại wasn't gonna make it, maybe that disturbed my biorhythm more than i thought. and maybe that post-bday womb blessing loosened up more than i thought. we'll see...
Dr. Chan didnt seem to believe me when i mentioned that we'll know dates for sure at 20 weeks because the fundus (top of my uterus) will be at navel level (a midwife truism and a universal for all pregnant women). and i forgot to point out that she herself said that ultrasounds were not accurate for dates after the 12th week. i refused the vaginal ultrasound. i don't need a phallic device emitting ultrasonic cellular mutation in or around my already scraped up cervix.
already this medical prenatal had T. worried about folic acid, birth defects, and the normalcy of our bé. bé would let me know if anything was wrong. and though i'm generally a bit of a worrier with some hypochondriac tendencies, i feel content and a sense of well-being. no worries. so T. said he would trust me and bé and not let the doctor/medical establishment control our experience or deny us our rights through manipulating our ignorance.
in this life, this society, either you make informed choices or someone else, someone in a position of power, makes them for you. of course, most of the vaunted "freedom of choice" boils down to consumer decisions like about whether to support government-subsidized, eco-cidal, genetically-modified, irradiating, toxin polluting industrial agriculture corporation or pay the real cost of producing food to a small organic family farmer while trying to balance your own precarious budget. because in this society, money = power. we're trying our best to be engaged and not give our power away without exuding smug about it. it's a thin line. at least we won't be mistaken for those angry hippies in Berkeley Bowl. they need to take another bongh!t or drop a lil more acid cuz their mellow groove has become rude, entitled smuginess.
so on our journey to becoming parents we make the first of many parenting decisions... we're minimizing tetragenic exposure to alcohol, drugs, synthetic/toxic chemicals and ultrasounds. we prioritize good nutrition as the most important factor for the health of our bé. and along with that, we're not doing any of the genetic testing. we oppose eugenicism as a system of oppression, domination & genocide and we're not going to be tricked into it by medical prenatal propaganda about knowing the baby's health.
previously, we received a week-by-week glossy of a baby's development process in 4D. and it just seemed freaky invasive, exploitative and really just pornographic to me like those old National Geographics (or colonial postcards) with exotic naked natives and no captions about who they were, their family, no names, no context, no humanity. what's up with the patriarchal desire for panopticon omniscience and the need to know (and control) the mystery of creation?
so we didnt keep a printout of the ultrasound. i prefer to look within and commune with our bé bathed in the golden light of its spirit and our love, not bond with some externally-generated technology-produced paparazzi ghost image adulated object. we choose to walk the spiritual route, not the material.
smug check! weo, at least we don't drive a hybrid. yet.
still waiting on the hybrid minivan to make its way here from Japan where it's been on the market since 2001. as TLC puts it, "It takes courage to drive a mini-van."
WAITING ROOM
Selena, midwife--couch, play area for kids, water cooler, birth artwork
Dr. Chan, ob/gyn--chairs, magazines, pee on demand in a sterile cup, lovely baby & mama b&w glamor shots
WAIT TIME
midwife--5 minutes
ob--1.5 hours (approx one hour spent naked in a hospital gown and a tissue paper sheet.) medical assistant takes blood pressure and weighs me. i've gained about 5 pounds.
INITIAL CONSULTATION
midwife--2+hours: big hugs, trung next to me on the couch or bed, conversation about medical history, emotional process, experiences, parenting approach, cultural expectations, nutritional counseling (and some negotiation on getting optimal nutrients from food), expectations of the midwife's role, family involvement, snacks & water for the hungry pregnant lady, something to put my feet up on, pee when i need to in a dixie cup, assessment of our bé|baby's golden-orange aura & spirit, journalling assignments, drawing birth visualization exercise, lie on a bed fully clothed, blood pressure & heartrate, fetascope and gentle palpation on my abdomen, more big hugs, lots of reassurance of normality. no internal exams til 36 weeks.
ob--30 minutes: succinct clinical monotone apology for being one and a half hours late, made trung move his chair 3 feet away from me to make room for the ultrasound equipment, medical history intake, breast exam, crazy transformer dental chair that converts to spread eagled prone position with stirrups and my ass hanging over the edge (the less engagement from patients the better huh? keep 'em passive. though i was mind-numbed from the wait time, at least i wasn't strapped down), pap smear (yugh! do you know how sensitive my cervix is right now? she bleeds if you just look at her sideways), explanation of the practice while conducting an ambush bimanual internal exam (no warning! why do doctors think ambush & distraction is the best policy for unpleasant procedures?), ghost ultrasound and some hokey measurement, mentioning all the ways bé can have birth defects and the standard tests i can take with no explanation of risks, insistence on prenatal vitamins regardless of diet (i can already see her classifying me as non-compliant), no snacks or water (did i mention how hungry i was after 1.5 hours of mindless waiting?), handshake. not cold, but not warm. weo, neither were we.
anyways so after explaining to me that ultrasounds after the first trimester are not accurate in dating me being in the 14th week and all, she plops jelly on my belly and ultrasounds me on the pap smear chair-cum-table (seat came back up) with no where to put my feet. despite having seen my cervix and bimanually felt me up, she still had no idea where my uterus was and kept the device in the middle to no avail. so i finally had to tell her um, my uterus is on the left. and boom, there was the ghost of our bé (ok, maybe not like boom, all we saw were grey & black blurs. and its all grey and grainy like something out of The Ring, but not freaky scary. not bathed in golden light. just grey and ghostly. okay, so on the one hand, here's confirmation that bé has a head, arms & legs and a little chirping heart. a little more real. not just a figment of our imaginations. on the other hand, it's a ghost on a grey-black monitor being controlled, measured and assessed by some stranger who is insisting that according to her admittedly inaccurate ultrasound measurement, baby is only 11 weeks 5 days along and that therefore my due date is in March. and that just does not sound right to me. but then again, the delicate choreograph of menstruation, ovulation and conception responsive to mood, mentality and moon is not exactly science. and flying down to San D that last week of May thinking bà ngoại wasn't gonna make it, maybe that disturbed my biorhythm more than i thought. and maybe that post-bday womb blessing loosened up more than i thought. we'll see...
Dr. Chan didnt seem to believe me when i mentioned that we'll know dates for sure at 20 weeks because the fundus (top of my uterus) will be at navel level (a midwife truism and a universal for all pregnant women). and i forgot to point out that she herself said that ultrasounds were not accurate for dates after the 12th week. i refused the vaginal ultrasound. i don't need a phallic device emitting ultrasonic cellular mutation in or around my already scraped up cervix.
already this medical prenatal had T. worried about folic acid, birth defects, and the normalcy of our bé. bé would let me know if anything was wrong. and though i'm generally a bit of a worrier with some hypochondriac tendencies, i feel content and a sense of well-being. no worries. so T. said he would trust me and bé and not let the doctor/medical establishment control our experience or deny us our rights through manipulating our ignorance.
in this life, this society, either you make informed choices or someone else, someone in a position of power, makes them for you. of course, most of the vaunted "freedom of choice" boils down to consumer decisions like about whether to support government-subsidized, eco-cidal, genetically-modified, irradiating, toxin polluting industrial agriculture corporation or pay the real cost of producing food to a small organic family farmer while trying to balance your own precarious budget. because in this society, money = power. we're trying our best to be engaged and not give our power away without exuding smug about it. it's a thin line. at least we won't be mistaken for those angry hippies in Berkeley Bowl. they need to take another bongh!t or drop a lil more acid cuz their mellow groove has become rude, entitled smuginess.
so on our journey to becoming parents we make the first of many parenting decisions... we're minimizing tetragenic exposure to alcohol, drugs, synthetic/toxic chemicals and ultrasounds. we prioritize good nutrition as the most important factor for the health of our bé. and along with that, we're not doing any of the genetic testing. we oppose eugenicism as a system of oppression, domination & genocide and we're not going to be tricked into it by medical prenatal propaganda about knowing the baby's health.
previously, we received a week-by-week glossy of a baby's development process in 4D. and it just seemed freaky invasive, exploitative and really just pornographic to me like those old National Geographics (or colonial postcards) with exotic naked natives and no captions about who they were, their family, no names, no context, no humanity. what's up with the patriarchal desire for panopticon omniscience and the need to know (and control) the mystery of creation?
so we didnt keep a printout of the ultrasound. i prefer to look within and commune with our bé bathed in the golden light of its spirit and our love, not bond with some externally-generated technology-produced paparazzi ghost image adulated object. we choose to walk the spiritual route, not the material.
smug check! weo, at least we don't drive a hybrid. yet.
still waiting on the hybrid minivan to make its way here from Japan where it's been on the market since 2001. as TLC puts it, "It takes courage to drive a mini-van."
Tuesday, August 7, 2007
Stupid Power redux
okay, i still cant remember my pre-G7 SanD revelation (alas that has gone the way of the Hottentot Venus. obscured in the annals of HIStory, but her disembodied vulva floats in a prurient jar of formaldehyde on a forgotten shelf in an musty Museum of Man only to be found by Stephan J. Gould and revived in an essay about race, gender & western eugenics.) but i came up with another one.
i think my stupid power would have to be the ability to write long convoluted emails using obscure literary, historical and pop culture references.
ms. kyung jin (or Lady K--her airwave ego) adds "and to turn the obscure references into a long diatribe fully equipped with a plethora of tangents that eventually relate to the initial obscure reference."
i think we can all agree that it's a) useless though entertaining, at least to me, and b) could, potentially, under the right circumstances, at the last minute, under great duress, defeat Evil and Save The Day.
one day i will post some of them so you can fully comprehend my deep thoughts around topics ranging from porkism to klingonaase.
speaking of stupid powers, T got me the first five episodes of season 1 of Stan Lee's reality show Who wants to be a Superhero? because laughing at other people's follies makes me feel better about myself.
i think my stupid power would have to be the ability to write long convoluted emails using obscure literary, historical and pop culture references.
ms. kyung jin (or Lady K--her airwave ego) adds "and to turn the obscure references into a long diatribe fully equipped with a plethora of tangents that eventually relate to the initial obscure reference."
i think we can all agree that it's a) useless though entertaining, at least to me, and b) could, potentially, under the right circumstances, at the last minute, under great duress, defeat Evil and Save The Day.
one day i will post some of them so you can fully comprehend my deep thoughts around topics ranging from porkism to klingonaase.
speaking of stupid powers, T got me the first five episodes of season 1 of Stan Lee's reality show Who wants to be a Superhero? because laughing at other people's follies makes me feel better about myself.
DIY baby hammock
who invented hammocks? no one knows for sure, but it was folks in the tropics, caribbean, latin america. all i know is that it is ingenious.
in VN, there is just about a hammock for every adult. every household has at least 4 steel screw hooks bolted into the studs for an instant midday siesta. even government offices close down to beat the tropical heat for lunch & a siesta. though i wonder if they too have hammock hooks tucked in the back. socialist bureaucrats need to snooze off the heat too. indeed the modern vinamese american household has an ancestral altar, a large flat screen TV, karaoke, and a made-in-vietnam steel-framed hammock (and usually some elder firmly ensconced while watchin the newest Pa-Ri Bai Nai|Paris By Night variety show spectacle or phim chưởng|chinese period serial martial art soap opera or cải lương|southern vinamese melodic storytelling). growing up in honolulu, i was lulled to sleep in hammocks from the time i was born. and i was so glad when my mom *finally* found the hammock she got for me in VN in 2001 buried in the depths of the garage which the two older kids use as free storage. (and before you siblings protest the unfairness of that generalization, all i know is that all my stuff was in the shed that exploded and burned down in dad's "shed incident." the only stuff i have in the garage is what mom has been stockpiling for years in the anticipation of another grandchild.) we lugged that hammock shit up from SanD posthaste. and believe me, it wasn't easy.
now that t&i are at that procreating time, we're trying to evade the consumer mentality manufactured by the billion dollar baby product industry, and society at large. looking to expand its market and profit margin and led by multi-culty parents, the baby product industry is beginning to embrace and commodify the "natural" ways the rest of the non-industrial world has raised billions of babies. co-sleeping, baby carriers/slings, attachment parenting, elimination communication, practices & crafts/artifacts the world over are are making their way in the mainstream, being trademarked, branded and packaged as a westernized consumer product.
i'm predicting that hammocks are the next big baby thing. there is one american brand complete with a frame and padded hammock. aussie & kiwi's are getting in it too. why? because hammocks mimic the natural rhythm of in utero, they ergonomically conform to the baby's shape (unlike stiff flat mattresses), they are self-propelled (amazingly, a baby soothing product that doesn't require batteries. yet.) and, most importantly, unlike cribs they don't cost an arm and a leg. in the global context, it's important to remember that hammocks are safe to use because the baby is never left alone. there is always a caretaker whether parent, grandparent, extended family within ear's reach and unlike america, no one anywhere else in the world ignores a baby's cry believing that promotes independence rather than abandonment issues and SIDS.
when i was a kid i used to sit and draw blueprints for playhouses. really detailed blueprint of a playhouse with sunroof, down to the lumber sizes, number of nails, reinforcing beams, crossbeam supported foundation, weather-proofing, etc. i get this from ông ngoại|maternal grandfather who as a self-sufficient peasant could grow rice & produce, raise & train waterbuffalo, make bánh tết & banh chưng|new years sticky rice, pork & mung bean cake and kẹo mè|sesame candy from scratch, build a house from scrap lumber & palm tree fronds, and invent a flapping angel-wing harness for the christmas pageant. nowadays they call a person like him a "renaissance man"--though i'm fairly certain self-sufficiency pre-exists the renaissance & capitalism--i just call him ông ngoại.
so rather than pay $200 for some bourgie plastic & polyester version manufactured in some sweatshop in China that will offgas neural disrupters horribly and break apart or be recalled due to shoddy workmanship, i decide to DIY and make my own. who knows maybe i will make a business plan out of this. may as well make some money off of this. maybe i can market it as phong thuỷ|feng shui hammocks. no one has niche marketed oriental metaphysicism and baby products yet.
disclaimer: this is still under product development, so experiment at your own risk.
PORTABLE BABY HAMMOCK
can be installed anywhere there is a door frame or lintel
clamp the padded C-clamps above the door frame about 1.5' - 2' apart. this will give you a loose parabola.
place the folded baby blanket parallel to the 48" width of the fabric at the vertex of the parabola. this is very important! the baby will lay on top of the blanket. babies should not be placed in this hammock the way an adult would lay for this particular hammock. the legs of the parabola (which are around 48" wide) will prevent the baby from rolling out of the hammock.
lay a bunch of pillows & padding underneath the hammock just in case and test it with some phonebooks (or cats as the case may be) before putting your baby in.
as in all things, use common sense.
PERMANENT INSTALLATION (under construction)
1 steel heavy duty eye screw or screw hook (carrying load of 400+ lbs each)
2' dowel
whipping rope technique
carbiner or quick link
2.5-3 yards
..to be continued...
i started this on 7.5.07 but waited to post so i wouldn't let the cat out of the bag. will finish at some other date.
p.s. the C-Clamps don't work over the lintel. Back to the drawing board. Am considering the Miyo clamp but it's $50 and I'd have to import it from NZ...
in VN, there is just about a hammock for every adult. every household has at least 4 steel screw hooks bolted into the studs for an instant midday siesta. even government offices close down to beat the tropical heat for lunch & a siesta. though i wonder if they too have hammock hooks tucked in the back. socialist bureaucrats need to snooze off the heat too. indeed the modern vinamese american household has an ancestral altar, a large flat screen TV, karaoke, and a made-in-vietnam steel-framed hammock (and usually some elder firmly ensconced while watchin the newest Pa-Ri Bai Nai|Paris By Night variety show spectacle or phim chưởng|chinese period serial martial art soap opera or cải lương|southern vinamese melodic storytelling). growing up in honolulu, i was lulled to sleep in hammocks from the time i was born. and i was so glad when my mom *finally* found the hammock she got for me in VN in 2001 buried in the depths of the garage which the two older kids use as free storage. (and before you siblings protest the unfairness of that generalization, all i know is that all my stuff was in the shed that exploded and burned down in dad's "shed incident." the only stuff i have in the garage is what mom has been stockpiling for years in the anticipation of another grandchild.) we lugged that hammock shit up from SanD posthaste. and believe me, it wasn't easy.
now that t&i are at that procreating time, we're trying to evade the consumer mentality manufactured by the billion dollar baby product industry, and society at large. looking to expand its market and profit margin and led by multi-culty parents, the baby product industry is beginning to embrace and commodify the "natural" ways the rest of the non-industrial world has raised billions of babies. co-sleeping, baby carriers/slings, attachment parenting, elimination communication, practices & crafts/artifacts the world over are are making their way in the mainstream, being trademarked, branded and packaged as a westernized consumer product.
i'm predicting that hammocks are the next big baby thing. there is one american brand complete with a frame and padded hammock. aussie & kiwi's are getting in it too. why? because hammocks mimic the natural rhythm of in utero, they ergonomically conform to the baby's shape (unlike stiff flat mattresses), they are self-propelled (amazingly, a baby soothing product that doesn't require batteries. yet.) and, most importantly, unlike cribs they don't cost an arm and a leg. in the global context, it's important to remember that hammocks are safe to use because the baby is never left alone. there is always a caretaker whether parent, grandparent, extended family within ear's reach and unlike america, no one anywhere else in the world ignores a baby's cry believing that promotes independence rather than abandonment issues and SIDS.
when i was a kid i used to sit and draw blueprints for playhouses. really detailed blueprint of a playhouse with sunroof, down to the lumber sizes, number of nails, reinforcing beams, crossbeam supported foundation, weather-proofing, etc. i get this from ông ngoại|maternal grandfather who as a self-sufficient peasant could grow rice & produce, raise & train waterbuffalo, make bánh tết & banh chưng|new years sticky rice, pork & mung bean cake and kẹo mè|sesame candy from scratch, build a house from scrap lumber & palm tree fronds, and invent a flapping angel-wing harness for the christmas pageant. nowadays they call a person like him a "renaissance man"--though i'm fairly certain self-sufficiency pre-exists the renaissance & capitalism--i just call him ông ngoại.
so rather than pay $200 for some bourgie plastic & polyester version manufactured in some sweatshop in China that will offgas neural disrupters horribly and break apart or be recalled due to shoddy workmanship, i decide to DIY and make my own. who knows maybe i will make a business plan out of this. may as well make some money off of this. maybe i can market it as phong thuỷ|feng shui hammocks. no one has niche marketed oriental metaphysicism and baby products yet.
disclaimer: this is still under product development, so experiment at your own risk.
PORTABLE BABY HAMMOCK
can be installed anywhere there is a door frame or lintel
- begin with 2 iron industrial C-clamps (6-8 in width) these have a carrying load of 1200 lbs+ each so it can handle a baby no worries.
- circular rubber or silicon pads (glue to the clamp faces to prevent damage to the surface)
- 2.5-3 yards of heavy cotton, 8mm+ habotai silk (also called parachute silk because it is used for parachutes and also for portable hammocks. load of up to 400 lbs.) or sling suitable fabric (36-48 width). the bonus with using natural materials is that they wick away moisture and regulate temperature.
- folded up baby blanket or towel approx the size of the baby.
clamp the padded C-clamps above the door frame about 1.5' - 2' apart. this will give you a loose parabola.
place the folded baby blanket parallel to the 48" width of the fabric at the vertex of the parabola. this is very important! the baby will lay on top of the blanket. babies should not be placed in this hammock the way an adult would lay for this particular hammock. the legs of the parabola (which are around 48" wide) will prevent the baby from rolling out of the hammock.
lay a bunch of pillows & padding underneath the hammock just in case and test it with some phonebooks (or cats as the case may be) before putting your baby in.
as in all things, use common sense.
PERMANENT INSTALLATION (under construction)
1 steel heavy duty eye screw or screw hook (carrying load of 400+ lbs each)
2' dowel
whipping rope technique
carbiner or quick link
2.5-3 yards
..to be continued...
i started this on 7.5.07 but waited to post so i wouldn't let the cat out of the bag. will finish at some other date.
p.s. the C-Clamps don't work over the lintel. Back to the drawing board. Am considering the Miyo clamp but it's $50 and I'd have to import it from NZ...
Monday, August 6, 2007
musings on 42
my sister Uyên just called me out on my lack of "substantive" posts of late. substantive being relative since we all know how i like to ramble on, usually in mid-thought, about esoteric things that pop into my head (like klingon love letters. i can't believe you lost them, Trung! batlh bIHeghjaj! bortaS bIr jablu'DI' reH QaQqu' nay'.) low brain to mouth filter. blame it on the drugs my mom took during labor.
my bloglite excuse is -- weo, how to delicately say -- i am with child|có bàu. yes, T. & i have borg'ed ourselves the old-fashioned way and we are now nguyễn3 (can chú Bình claim credit for taking us to Bải Bàu in Qui Nhơn in april? or the hokey new age-y womb-blessing on my birthday?) as of tomorrow i will be 13 weeks along and almost officially out of my first trimester. par-tay! because it is damn fatiguing to generate a human being!
Uyên made the request for belly shots. for you undomesticated non-breeding folks, that is not cheap tequila drunk from the pierced navel of some young thing who probably doesn't have good hygiene; belly shots would be a progressive montage of the alien being gestating in my womb until it emerges gnashing and clawing from my abdomen to dominate the world. just kidding. yes, yes, children are blessings and a woman's ability to give Life, to Birth, is Sacred. without this, our survival as a species would end. blahblah. how alienated are we from women's reproductive capacity that the major pop culture reference for pregnancy is parasitic and destructive? the misogyny of society. makes you understand why the cesarean rate in the U.S. is almost 28% and voluntary cesareans (that is major abdominal surgery) is on the rise. fear of vaginas.
theoretical physicist stephen j. hawking comments, "I think computer viruses should count as life. I think it says something about human nature that the only form of life we have created so far is purely destructive. We've created life in our own image." he is a genius, an expansive intellectual contemplating the Ultimate Question of Life, The Universe, and Everything (the Deep Thought answer to which is 42, leaving us to ponder, what is the Ultimate Question?), and yet that is an incredibly stupid thing to say. as my bà ngoại|maternal grandmother often rebukes my aunties & uncles with her folk wisdom aphorism "mày nghĩ mày khôn quá hả mày chui ra đít tao!|you think you're so smart, you crawled out of my pussy!" put you in your place, punk! (now you understand where i learned how to curse.) women have been creating Life in our own image from the beginning of human time. it doesn't take a PhD or an MD to accomplish that.
so for the belly shots, weo, i'm not cutely pregnant yet (when if ever does that happen pray tell?). i'm slightly bloated, a beer belly of sorts late in the day. my clothes fit wierdly and why are all the clothes in my existing wardrobe so form fitting & cropped? i do glow though, for the record. absolutely luminous. T. has been documenting the process on the monthly (and sometimes weekly) basis. i might be persuaded to post the belly pix, but that requires bribery. food bribery (see the FAQs below).
for the curious, now that we are pregnant, you no longer have to refrain from asking me about my reproductive status or sex life. now commences the pregnancy phase and the ensuing, mostly welcome questions. for your curious pleasure:
my bloglite excuse is -- weo, how to delicately say -- i am with child|có bàu. yes, T. & i have borg'ed ourselves the old-fashioned way and we are now nguyễn3 (can chú Bình claim credit for taking us to Bải Bàu in Qui Nhơn in april? or the hokey new age-y womb-blessing on my birthday?) as of tomorrow i will be 13 weeks along and almost officially out of my first trimester. par-tay! because it is damn fatiguing to generate a human being!Uyên made the request for belly shots. for you undomesticated non-breeding folks, that is not cheap tequila drunk from the pierced navel of some young thing who probably doesn't have good hygiene; belly shots would be a progressive montage of the alien being gestating in my womb until it emerges gnashing and clawing from my abdomen to dominate the world. just kidding. yes, yes, children are blessings and a woman's ability to give Life, to Birth, is Sacred. without this, our survival as a species would end. blahblah. how alienated are we from women's reproductive capacity that the major pop culture reference for pregnancy is parasitic and destructive? the misogyny of society. makes you understand why the cesarean rate in the U.S. is almost 28% and voluntary cesareans (that is major abdominal surgery) is on the rise. fear of vaginas.
theoretical physicist stephen j. hawking comments, "I think computer viruses should count as life. I think it says something about human nature that the only form of life we have created so far is purely destructive. We've created life in our own image." he is a genius, an expansive intellectual contemplating the Ultimate Question of Life, The Universe, and Everything (the Deep Thought answer to which is 42, leaving us to ponder, what is the Ultimate Question?), and yet that is an incredibly stupid thing to say. as my bà ngoại|maternal grandmother often rebukes my aunties & uncles with her folk wisdom aphorism "mày nghĩ mày khôn quá hả mày chui ra đít tao!|you think you're so smart, you crawled out of my pussy!" put you in your place, punk! (now you understand where i learned how to curse.) women have been creating Life in our own image from the beginning of human time. it doesn't take a PhD or an MD to accomplish that.
so for the belly shots, weo, i'm not cutely pregnant yet (when if ever does that happen pray tell?). i'm slightly bloated, a beer belly of sorts late in the day. my clothes fit wierdly and why are all the clothes in my existing wardrobe so form fitting & cropped? i do glow though, for the record. absolutely luminous. T. has been documenting the process on the monthly (and sometimes weekly) basis. i might be persuaded to post the belly pix, but that requires bribery. food bribery (see the FAQs below).
for the curious, now that we are pregnant, you no longer have to refrain from asking me about my reproductive status or sex life. now commences the pregnancy phase and the ensuing, mostly welcome questions. for your curious pleasure:
MY PREGNANCY FAQS
- are you showing yet?
i am not showing. unless you count my distended intestines that get more compacted as the day wears on. so don't bother touching my belly because you're really just feeling up the detritus and effluvia of my digestion. my Uterus happens to be electric-slide tipped back and to the far left. if you see me rubbing my belly, i am not at this point touchingly bonding with my unborn child, i am really just encouraging some gas to pass. when i lay down and palpate my abdomen (i'm curious too), i can just barely feel her edge (my Uterus is a She btw) tucked deep into my left pelvis. my Uterus and i are in conversation right now trying to reach consensus agreement. i would like her to be upfront and center so that i can avoid having anal internal exams during my prenatals. you read that right. midwife has got to do bi-manual internal exams and palpate to assess baby's growth someway.
- have you seen your doctor yet?
meet my midwife Selena. she's a grandmother, been a doula for many years, owns a birth center, and practices 2nd degree reiki (i'm not really sure what that means either).
we're old-fashioned DIY-ers and we're choosing the safest birth choice possible. we're planning a normal, safe homebirth. babies everywhere else in the world have been born this way since time immemorial. don't see why we should pay an ob-gyn $10K for less than 15 minutes of care and loads of medical interventions. i've seen all the doctor TV shows, i know doctors think of childbirth as a mortally dangerous disease best performed strapped down on her back in a drug-resistant-staph-ridden hospital amongst the ill, the suffering and the dying. not subjecting myself or our child to that. shudder. i'm not that crazy.
- have you seen your baby yet?
ultrasounds have never been monitored for long term risks from exposure. they are a known unknown non-empirical technology. ultrasound machines are not monitored by any safety board, there is no standardized calibration, and technicians receive no training in the technology or its use which is why fools like Tom Cruise can buy one online to use on his cloned spawn. what is known is that there is known cellular mutation with exposure and babies get very agitated in the womb when exposed to ultrasound. there is no safe amount of exposure to ultrasound and one should limit exposure unless medically necessary. that said, we are having one ultrasound later this month. mainly to rule out twins which run in my paternal family. midwives say it skips a generation though.
on a humanistic level, this thinker dude (blanking on the name) commented that the two images that have profoundly changed humanity's paradigm of thinking is the picture of the earth from outer space and the ultrasound image of the unborn. prior to those two images, we could never imagine mother earth as something separate from ourselves, nor could we imagine the baby separate from the mother. when those images were published we furthered our alienation from self, motherhood, nature, etc. which puts us square in this current situation of rampant ecological destruction and fear of vaginas/vulvas-cum-compartmentalized maternity/pediatric healthcare. anyways, ultrasound pictures of babies just look like freaky aliens to me. they don't really generate warm fuzzy "awwww"s from me. its not like i want to bond with an alien. i mean i've watched plenny sci-fi movies. got no love for extra-terrestrials.
- are you having morning sickness?
nope. blessed be! both our moms had easy pregnancies and no vomiting. i have not worshipped the porcelain god this trimester. so i glow. really. it's the increased circulation and extra hormones.
no constipation either. except when our sewer line bust last week and all i had was a bucket for my midnight/early am pregnancy pees.
- are you having any cravings?
i am having a liking for certain things under certain circumstances, but nothing i would call a craving (though ms. Lily says otherwise). but i'm not upset or disappointed if i don't get it, nor am i demanding T. obtain it at odd hours. in general, cravings are your body's way of asking for missing nutrients. so the typical preggers craving for ice cream & pickles is really your body asking for more protein & calcium, and the sour/vinegar to help facilitate the absorption of the calcium. our brains just interpret that in simplistic ways accessible in our modern fast food nation reality. as a rule, T & i eat very healthy and balanced, whole foods, no junk food, not too much processed/fast foods because of my sensitivity to chemicals and allergens. so i'm not having much in the way of cravings. though i will say, i am not desiring sweets, in fact they kinda repulse me. too much sugar, nutritionally empty calories makes me want to hurl. and my lactose intolerance has gotten worse. since i cut wheat and dairy out for a mucus-free diet a few months ago, my allergies have improved immensely. this last weekend, subjected to work retreat and poor lunch menu planning, i had to eat alot of crappy phonebook fast food--pizza & cantonese. bleck. allergies came back in spades both skin rashes and sneezing at nothing. just goes to show food is medicinal. you eat crap, you feel like crap.
we've been getting our nutrients from food so i've been able to stay off the prenatal supplements that generally make one vomit. fyi seaweed is a miracle food in terms of both iron and folic acid and similar minerals content as your own blood. we all came from the ocean at some point.
our biggest challenge is that i've noticed uncooked/unprepared/greasy foods sorta gross me out too as does repetition. by extension, the whole "raw foods" food trend is just blah to me (sorry, Chanda but that was not doing it for me. left me so hungry-tired that i slept 12 hours that night.) which means that i don't want to eat anything in our refrigerator. we're having to do multiple runs to the grocery store in week so it's a good thing we live within blocks of three grocery stores!
so if i crave anything, it's variety. also, i still can't eat anything i didn't like BP (Before Pregnant) like raw onions or dairy but in addition, chicken breast and salmon repel me. and unfortunately i seem to have reached a limit on lao sausage. i'm hoping that just means not for three meals in a row...
simple and mouthwateringly good high end restaurant food really really appeals to me like egg sandwich but a gourmet egg sandwich that is the best i've ever had!!! i'm still waiting for food to taste extra delicious. so the food channel is very dangerous. i just want tasty, nutritious food, my parents' homecooking, meal variety and i don't want to cook. poor T. (many thanx to Lily for rescuing him for 2 nights in a row). so that's why i'm going to SanD at the end of the month, i want bánh giò|banana leaf wrapped glutinous rice flour stuffed with pork & woodear fungus, cua rang muối|crispy salt & pepper crab, canh chua|tamarind fish soup, at least two varieties of xôi|sticky rice--savory & sweet, any kind of gỏi, canh|brothy vegetable soups, chạo tôm|shrimp paste on sugar cane, etc. sigh, heaven. who says you can never go home again?
- is it a boy or a girl?
we're not going to find out. there are so few moments of genuine delight & surprise in life. this is going to be one of them. this also means that we don't want a bunch of pink & blue crap. we like colors--primary colors, bright colors, the whole rainbow of colors, black even. pastels are... okay and in moderation. and then there is the ultrasound issue. and yes, Uyên, it's T's decision too. mr. boy scout likes to be impulsive sometimes too. in a planned and defined manner. we have a workplan and a budget.
- do you want a boy or a girl?
we would love either. personally i loved (and hated) having an older brother who looked out for me and would write gruesome death threats to kids who bullied me. he would also torment me, really TORMENT me, endlessly though with personalized insult songs, so it's a tough choice. i also loved having an older sister (mostly). so yeah, really, i loved being the youngest. and you can't really determine that for your first child. so, we leave it up to the goddesses & ancestors to decide. and yeah sposedly T's sperm. like he has any control over that. our midwife who is also a second-degree reiki practitioner says that its a spirit familiar to us and she also told us what gender energy she was getting from the baby's gold-orange aura and my mom with her maternal psychic intuition has a prediction, but we're not telling. flip a coin.
- what are you going to name her/him?
that's for us to know and you to mis-pronounce. just kidding. we haven't decided. it'll be a vinamese name. no surprise there. so if you would like to contribute to our kids' future therapy fund, please send us a check.
- how many kids do you want?
ideally, four. so they can pair up and no one gets left out. however T. says for every pet we have, that's one less child. we already have two cats and i really want two mini donkeys (because any animal deprived of contact with its own species is going to be mal-adjusted, neurotic and co-dependent) so... its still under negotiation. i say, put the donkeys to work. get them to keep our quarter acre yard trim and rent them out to the neighbors for their lawn & kiddie parties. they don't have to be useless pets, they can be revenue generating!
bad cop, no donut!
Rulebreakin' Thai cops are now being punished for their feckless misdemeanor offenses by wearing the pink Hello Kitty armband of shame around their biceps. bad cop!Expect a new Tony Jaa Sanrio-sponsored movie where Tony fights police corruption with Hello Kitty as
his faithful sidekick.
Streetwalker Hello Kitty says "miiiao?"
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
