It's funny to hear about cravings during pregnancy. What might be one woman's craving might be the very thing to send another running for the bathroom, barely suppressing the nausea. There are the stories of husbands running out in the middle of the night to buy dill pickles, ice cream and pretzels. Hormones are often blamed for pregnancy cravings, but the truth is that nobody really knows the true cause.
I know that sometimes I get into patterns even while not pregnant. There are some periods when I could eat a grilled cheese sandwich every single day for lunch. However, when I was expecting X, my biggest craving was for mayonnaise. Not so much mayo on sandwiches, which was my typical mode of mayonnaise delivery -- as lunch meats are a no-no during pregnancy. So, instead I ate mayonnaise-based salads. Egg salad was a particular favorite. Tuna salad, chicken salad, potato salad, macaroni salad. I even ventured to the deli counter for things I don't normally eat -- cole slaw, ham salad, broccoli salad. If it was made with mayonnaise, I wanted it in my belly!
It's funny. Now that I am writing this out, I can't remember the last time I ate any of the above mentioned foods. Maybe now that summer time is just around the corner, I will start making some of my favorites again. The only downside is that I am the only one in my house who even likes mayonnaise. My husband won't eat it, ever, and X is still too little! Ah, well. More for me, I guess!
Bring on picnic season -- I'm ready!
Wednesday, April 27, 2011
Sunday, April 17, 2011
There's No Place Like Home
My area was hit pretty hard by the tornadoes that went through North Carolina yesterday. My house and neighborhood, despite being in the path of the storms was totally skipped over, thank goodness!
Some of our friends have not been so lucky -- a couple I know have gone to Asheville to stay with relatives because their condo was hit head-on. Many others are without power. My husband is in Raleigh now, helping out with the effort to clear up debris in a neighborhood that was particularly hard-hit, where we have good friends.
Please send all good thoughts, prayers and karma our way. It has been devastating.
Some of our friends have not been so lucky -- a couple I know have gone to Asheville to stay with relatives because their condo was hit head-on. Many others are without power. My husband is in Raleigh now, helping out with the effort to clear up debris in a neighborhood that was particularly hard-hit, where we have good friends.
Please send all good thoughts, prayers and karma our way. It has been devastating.
Sunday, April 10, 2011
Clap Hands, Clap Hands
X's new skill (clapping hands!) reminds me of a rhyme that my mother used to sing/chant with all of us (well, I imagine with all of us -- I am the youngest, so what do I know?), and now chants with her grandchildren and great-grandchildren whenever they would come to visit at around X's age:
Nobody to whom I have ever repeated this rhyme has heard it before! Is it a Brooklyn thing? Of course, with a quick Google search, I find lots of variants on the rhyme.
Speaking of Brooklyn, there is a song that my father taught us all when we were little, Dunderbeck's Machine. It's probably a song that he learned from the Brooklyn firemen who were a big part of his childhood, or maybe from a neighbor. It is the story of a man who has created a sausage grinder and his terrible demise at the end! Again, none of my friends had ever heard it. The internet, being a wonderful thing, has revealed many variations of this grisly song. There are even videos now on Youtube! This is the closest to the song as my father taught it to us, but there are differences in melody and lyrics, as in all folk songs. Perhaps a bit more research will unearth the origins of this song, but I will teach my version to X, so he can gross out all of his friends when he's older!
Enjoy!
Clap hands, clap hands
'Til Daddy comes home
Daddy has money
And baby has none!
Nobody to whom I have ever repeated this rhyme has heard it before! Is it a Brooklyn thing? Of course, with a quick Google search, I find lots of variants on the rhyme.
Speaking of Brooklyn, there is a song that my father taught us all when we were little, Dunderbeck's Machine. It's probably a song that he learned from the Brooklyn firemen who were a big part of his childhood, or maybe from a neighbor. It is the story of a man who has created a sausage grinder and his terrible demise at the end! Again, none of my friends had ever heard it. The internet, being a wonderful thing, has revealed many variations of this grisly song. There are even videos now on Youtube! This is the closest to the song as my father taught it to us, but there are differences in melody and lyrics, as in all folk songs. Perhaps a bit more research will unearth the origins of this song, but I will teach my version to X, so he can gross out all of his friends when he's older!
Enjoy!
Monday, April 4, 2011
Love Letters
I have been transcribing the love letters of my husband's great-grandfather to his great-grandmother over the last few weeks, and realized as I was typing this one up, that I was doing so on the 112th anniversary of this particular letter itself.
What I find so endearing about these letters, is that they are so truly heartfelt. Glass was obviously educated, but not refined. He was about 26 years old when he courted Nellie, who was 22 at the time. She ran him around quite a bit, but this letter is one of the earliest of the bundle my mother-in-law left with us. It was the beginning of the courtship. He seems so nervous, so eager to impress, so anxious to know that his feelings are returned.
I wish that Glass had been as careful in saving Nellie's replies. I only have one side of this story, but, of course I know how it ended.
Things don't change much. I remember the same sort of nervous excitement when I first started dating my husband, and X was not even a twinkle in our eyes.
What I find so endearing about these letters, is that they are so truly heartfelt. Glass was obviously educated, but not refined. He was about 26 years old when he courted Nellie, who was 22 at the time. She ran him around quite a bit, but this letter is one of the earliest of the bundle my mother-in-law left with us. It was the beginning of the courtship. He seems so nervous, so eager to impress, so anxious to know that his feelings are returned.
I wish that Glass had been as careful in saving Nellie's replies. I only have one side of this story, but, of course I know how it ended.
Things don't change much. I remember the same sort of nervous excitement when I first started dating my husband, and X was not even a twinkle in our eyes.
Postmark April 4, 1899
Orange Springs, Fla
April 4
Miss Nellie Lang
Ft. McCoy
Dear Miss Nellie
Please don’t think because I asked you to correspond with me that I can promise interesting letters because I fear you will be disappointed.
The weeks seem to me as though they get longer & to look forward to the Sunday coming seems an age & I think were it so I could get just a short missive from you between times it wouldn’t seem quite so long. I truly hope you won’t think I am asking to much of you when I beg for a few lines this week.
I found my way out the new road Sunday night OK & arrived home on time to attend church but felt as though I needed to sleep & soon found my self in the happy land of “nod”.
I didn’t know it was cold until I left you but I came near freezing, however it wasn’t so bad as having dreamed I was a fish & the flat woods was an Ocean.
I came near letting Mrs. Uptons axe get misplaced. You should come for it by all means this week because it wouldn’t do to loose it. Have you had anymore propositions to go driving!! Ha. Ha. Well the nickel is yours don’t forget it.
You know if I had enough cash I would propose to you that we buy a buggy on the installment plan. You furnish the money & I pay the installment & we own equal parts in the buggy. So long as you are accepting or rather getting proposals on going for a ride I’l make you this one & we can ride real lots then.
The top buggy. Gray horse & pretty girl. Your Father made inquiry of us about was Mr. Wimberly of this City & Miss Broughton. She would be considered I guess as one of Klondykes Fair Maidens as she live out from you on Citrus road about 3 miles.
Miss Nellie:: doubtless you’l be surprised when I state to you that I have not forgotten that you told me you could not give me your heart but would exchange it for mine. I know you thought I’d forget it but I didn’t – C – !!
Now you seem to think that mine is in several parts which I must admit that you have good reasons for thinking so, however let me assure you that I can easily get mine all in a lump when you can make up your mind to make the exchange.
Now Miss Nellie I feel that I am unworthy to make such an exchange with you as this; yet I beg of you to think the matter over where you can’t find any think else to think of. Then why should I wish to make such an exchange unless I could feel that I was getting something that I was unworthy of then I could feel the more proud of the exchange. This is why I can assure you that I am heart whole & fancy free & stand ready to make the exchange with you.
Now I’l tell you of the dance last eve.
I saw we couldn’t find enough young ladies to have a good dance so I proposed to take my harp & Guitar and play for them to waltz.
They were thoughtful enough to accept my proposition consequently I played until the end of my finger fell off.
The lady of the house was kind enough to play one waltz on Piano for me so I got to waltz. Just think of it only one time.
I wish you had been here Monday to help me eat Bananas. I fixed them Sunday am to take out with us on our drive Sunday aft noon & laid them & really I didn’t think of them until Monday when I saw the package tied up & an examination found it was the Bananas that belonged to you & I. I thought of you while eating them (and several times since) & ate one and a half for you.
I’l be on time Sunday, trusting that I’l have a letter from you ere that time.
I am your friend truly
W. Glass Meggs
P.S. Remember the nickle’s yours.
Sunday, April 3, 2011
Happy Hulas For Your Luau
Tiny bubbles. That's what X's first kicks felt like. At the time, I didn't know that was what they were. I suspected it could be, possibly, the first kicks, but it was too early. I was only 15 weeks pregnant. I was a first-time mother. I wasn't supposed to feel movement until 22 or 24 weeks, according to the books, the experts, the online forums. Baby would be moving, but I wouldn't know what it was. It was so easy to mistake gas for baby's movements!
I was driving to work, listening to hula music. Traffic was heavy and I was running late. I felt a little pop-pop-pop, like carbonation, low in my abdomen. It happened, then happened again after a few moments.
When I got to work, I went about my business until, a few hours later, I felt the bubbling again. Pow-pow-pow! This time I knew. This was definitely kicking. I didn't care that I shouldn't be feeling it yet, or know what it was. We had connected. I could feel the baby moving!
I was driving to work, listening to hula music. Traffic was heavy and I was running late. I felt a little pop-pop-pop, like carbonation, low in my abdomen. It happened, then happened again after a few moments.
When I got to work, I went about my business until, a few hours later, I felt the bubbling again. Pow-pow-pow! This time I knew. This was definitely kicking. I didn't care that I shouldn't be feeling it yet, or know what it was. We had connected. I could feel the baby moving!