http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3ninu6q5jc4
So yes, jet-lag receding, I'm ready to reflect on my second annual Memorial Day trip back to the Motherland (by which I mean America, since I'm probably a lot closer to the land of my ancestors right now in France. I don't know exactly which country that is, just that it's wherever pale people are made). Highlights...
The cake the lady at Giant Eagle made says we're having a little She Traveler! For once AH and I had our timing nearly perfect and did our 2nd trimester ultrasound two days before we were set to return, so we only had to keep the secret for three days before we were able to announce in person to both sets of grandparents-to-be, as well as my sister (the hot one in the yellow apron, obvi, as I am the pregnant one who looks like me). As it was, we felt that we had to do something kind of snazzy since we had kept people waiting for all of 72 hours to know the gender of the baby, so we decided to do this newfangled reveal cake thing. For the uninitiated (so probably anyone that's not currently obsessively reading baby blogs), a reveal cake is a cake with either the batter or a center layer of frosting colored either pink or blue so that when you cut into it, everyone learns the gender together. And then you get cake. Of course AH and I being us, we decided that we wanted to do this approximately five hours before we were supposed to leave Columbus for Indianapolis for the big family get-together. But God Bless the USA (and Giant Eagle): we were able to put in an order for a cake before church, and pick it up after service before we hit the road. The novelty of being able to do so did not escape us: I'm pretty sure making such a last minute request of a bakery on a Sunday morning is prohibited in the Rights of Man.
Food. Oh mercy, the food. People have been asking what I have been having cravings for, and the unfortunate truth is that almost all of my cravings have been for American foods. So in two weeks, we did work. Many people have commented that they can now really tell that I'm pregnant; my response is that I'm pretty sure it's just chocolate chip cookies. Pictured above is the first of not one but two Dirty Frank's meals that I was able to consume while home (yes, that is nacho cheese and potato chips on a hot dog. No, that's not just a weird pregnancy craving- this is almost the exact meal that I ate on AH's and I's second wedding anniversary). Many thanks to my mother and mother-in-law for feeding me as though I needed to store up enough sustenance in two weeks to feed their grandbaby until she decides to come to greet us in September.
How every cocktail party conversation now begins in my head: "Hello, have you met my husband? DR. AH? That's right, he's a doctor now. A doctor of physics. That's right, my husband has a PhD in physics. Yes, something with high harmonics. I watched his thesis defense, but it was at 8 am, so I will tell you what I remember: Strong Field Regimes. High Harmonics. Rabbit. Wedges. But yes, he is very smart and important, so give me another one of those mini-quiches. Yes, the ones with bacon. And one of those little cupcakes, too."
Trip to the farmer's market with my mom, and there just happen to be llamas and miniature ponies in a pen next to the store. Like you do. Oh, Ohio, you would.
This is my sister-in-law's chicken condo. It is roughly the size of our old apartment, and probably cleaner. And while we were on that trip (an excursion north so AH could celebrate the new PhD with some college buds and his sister and BIL)...
I think I can speak for AH when I say that this was another highlight for him: doughnuts. Pastries may be his mistress, but doughnuts are probably his One True Love (sometime I'll have to dig out the picture of his groom's cake from our wedding, which was just an artfully tiered mound of Krispy Kremes with a rubber ducky bride and groom on top).
And one lowlight: Driving. Maybe it's a year-long absence from automobiles. Maybe it's knowing that the tiniest little fender bender could seriously endanger little FT. Maybe it's the fact that I was never exactly the best driver to begin with. Whatever it was, what was once a mild inconvenience is now seen as OMG THE WORST IDEA EVER BECAUSE CARS ARE SCARY METAL DEATHBOXES. Seriously, I've seen how inconsiderate, selfish, and careless people can be while walking. Yes, let's put all of these people in control of several tons of metal and machinery and put them out on narrow stretches of land, all trying to get different places! WE ARE OVERCOME WITH OUR OWN BRILLIANCE!!!
So now here was are (semi) settled back in the land of cheese and wine. Compared to last year when I did this (if you remember the post), the transition back has been a bit less angst-filled. That's due to several reasons, I think, and most of them are somehow related to the little person/cookie dough tumor in my tummy. Firstly, I'm pretty sure I'd been using the trip home as some sort of arbitrary marker of, "Oh, I don't have to worry about the fact that I am going to be responsible for a tiny helpless human being soon until after AH has defended his thesis and I have gotten my fill of hot dogs." Well, now that deadline has past, and so most of my angst (it is a limited supply, thank goodness) is being directed towards that quickly dawning realization (seriously, there are different varieties of cloth diapers? And what the hell is a birthing ball? They're going to need to give me stitches where?!). And also, as previously stated, the impending arrival of our Fellow Traveler means that keeping in contact with friends and family back home isn't just a nice thing for AH and I to do: it's a fundamental part of how we want to build our family. My mom has already expressed a concern that little FT won't know to connect her face with her voice. I have a feeling that not only will FT know her grandma (and grandpas, and aunts and uncles, and anyone else who wants to spoil her rotten), but her blonde brownies as well. And I'll be using the "baby wants brownies, mom" excuse for many years to come.
