Mario and I took an 8-hour parenting class at our hospital today, which, thanks to the fast-talking teacher (she rivaled me for blithering speed, and I loved every second of it!) only ended up going 6.5 hours. It was 6.5 hours well spent, I would say. The instructor was absolutely hilarious and we got to spend part of the time sacked out in bean bag chairs practicing relaxing breathing techniques. While I can't say I learned a ton I already didn't know, I did find out something valuable about myself: I am actually not grossed out by watching a baby be born! This is a great surprise to someone who has been known (on more than one occasion) to hit the floor, hard, while having an eensey bit of blood drawn. But three videos into the class, my fainting reflex was firmly in check and I was actually quite intrigued with the process. Wonders never cease. Hopefully I can maintain my newfound strong stomach when it's MY girly parts under siege. The only part I'm still pretty sure I'll avert my eyes for is the appearance of the placenta, thank you, but YUCK.
Scarlett kicked, hiccuped, and squiggled through the ENTIRE class. It was an unusually long period of continuous activity even for her. Wonder what THAT means....
Back at home, and trying to avoid the TWO 25-page papers I have due on Monday (I'll get them done, right? Never mind that all I have right now is about 10 pages of notes) I just googled my OLD name (I converted to my married name this week, finally, after clinging to it long past my wedding date) and look at one of the entries that comes up on the first page:
These Oscar de la Renta pumps are very showy. I think the crystal broch on the toes is a bit to flashy. I'm not the biggest fan of this style shoe.
Yes, I must agree that me on the toes would be a bit much...
My sister and her boyfriend got a new dog tonight! I am waiting impatiently for them to come home and introduce him to me and my two crazy pups. I am also waiting impatiently for my husband to come home from an emergency grocery store run with fresh pizza dough. I guess I learned my lesson on how long NOT to let WinCo pizza dough sit in the fridge...I opened a week-old package open tonight, all ready to bust out some fabulous spinach calzone, only to find that the yeast had taken their fermenting duties a leetle far, and the dough now reeked like booze. I did have to spend a fair amount of time convincing my husband that alcoholic pizza dough is a BAD thing...
Okay, back to work.
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2 comments:
I'm glad the class wasn't as much of a bore as you had thought it might be.
You had better post pictures of that pup! What will they call it? Zeppelin? :)
are you dunnzo yet? sheesh. Damn Pimps N' Hoes are taking away all of your blogging time.
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