baby showers and other random thoughts (pt 2)

Random thoughts:

1-I had dinner with my friend Carol tonight. Carol is one of the sweetest, loveliest human beings I know and one of my blessings....unless you say "Sarah Palin" or "John McCain" or "Wall Street Crisis" or "Trickle Down Theory." Those are her trigger words. But then, after she gets it out of her system? Right back to Loving Carol. We're both Unity Christians. Except she was raised as a Unitic, and I was raised by a lapsed Catholic/Presbyterian and a Methodist. And yet both her parents and her sister are faithful, uncompromising Republicans and totally voting McCain all the way this year. Which shocked me, because I thought all Unity Christians were basically 21st century hippies (except without the acid trips). Carol can't figure it out either. Huh.

But we found out we have another thing in common: being the lone wolf (dare I use the word....MAVERICK??) liberals among staunch conservatives. And we both love them all unconditionally. Even if my mother does go off on illegal immigrant tangents that have nothing to do with what I just said about taxes.

But pretty much EVERYONE (my staunch conservatives and hers) agree: Sarah Palin? Cuh-RAY-zee.

2-Here is how you tell that John McCain is working reeeeally hard not to go batshit ape crazy angry all over Barack Obama's butt: He gets this really tight smile on his face. And then he talks like my PopPop (grandfather): "....you know who didn't? That one." Charles says it's racially tinged. I say it's old and doddery. Sexy and smooth Obama...Old and Doddery McCain. I keep telling all you conservative thinkers: Vote Sexy and Smooth on Nov. 4, or you'll be up Poop Creek without a paddle, man.

On to baby showers!

Baby Shower I

I had a work baby shower. It was going to be held Oct. 6 or something, but I made them change it to Sept 23 because of due date uncertainity. Carol says: "That was a good call! That's your Pisces intuition coming out!" I say: "Actually, that was Charles' Pisces intuition coming out." Because he was the one who originally freaked me out. (He actually IS a Pisces. Except I think he's an Aries/Pisces, whereas I'm a Pisces/Pisces.) (Translation: He's a Pisces who uses rational thought processes to get him through Life...and political election campaigns; I am a Pisces who only knows emotional reaction processes to get me through Life...and election campaigns.)

Here are pictures. With comments!



Cake shot! (We had 2 tons of this cake left. I said: "I'll take a couple pieces home to Charles, but put the rest in the Teacher's Lounge"...because teachers are known vultures when it comes to cake. And sure enough, by 8 AM the next day? No more cake. I really think Social Scientists should conduct research on this phenomenon.)



Hideous toilet paper holder! (There's a long, White Elephant Christmas party story to go with this. Basically, my teaching department likes to torture each other with it as much as possible. If you get pregnant (or married) (or win the lottery), you know: there's a hideous toilet paper holder in your future, friend.) (In fact, as I opened the bag--signed, "With Love, ESOL"--I said out loud: "This better not be that hideous toilet paper holder!" Now I have to figure out who to give it to, and I have to be devious about it.)



All my first grade teacher friends! I love them all, to various degrees.



All my ESOL teacher friends! And two things about this picture: (1) Carol, whose chi is totally aligned most days...unless you use one of her trigger words...is in the blue flowered dress; and (2) I can no longer sit with my legs together. I can no longer cross them, and I can no longer sit Indian style in a chair with them, one of my favorite positions (except Indian style is incredibly un-PC, and so I will self-correct and use the 1st grade term "Criss Cross Apple Sauce"). Also, I think this wide leg approach to sitting is probably good labor practice...but it also makes me look like I'm asking for trouble.)

Baby Shower II

...aaaand my family/friends baby shower.

Important to know before we begin: This baby shower took place at a little French bistro called La Madeleine. La Madeleine is actually a little fast food chain French bistro, but unlike McDonald's or Burger King? You can enjoy a bottle of wine AND a mini sacher torte at the same time. Also, when you use the bathroom, you can listen to faux French people talking French (being piped in through the ceiling).

The French would be tres degoute (muy disgusted) by La Madeleine. "Teepeecal Amay-ree-CAHNs," I believe they might add.

But consider THIS French people! When the Italians (from Olive Garden) were all "No, we do not-uh have-uh baby showers at our restiorAHNtay," my mother suggested Golden Corral. Here's a little true story about Golden Corral, just to give you an idea of why this suggestion horrified me: 500 lb man walks into a Golden Corral. Eats for 3 hours. Vomits almost all the contents of his stomach across the table, over chairs, on the floor. Gets up, not helping to clean at all, goes to sit in car. Waitstaff cleans up the mess. 500 lb man comes BACK into said Golden Corral and goes ballistic on servers when they try to make him pay for another buffet...because Golden Corral is an All You Can Eat buffet, and man has already paid his $12 or whatever, and only left briefly because he had to empty his stomach...so insists he's entitled to continue buffet-ing.

Dudes. THIS is exactly what is wrong with America today. Besides the Economy. And so I said to my mother, "Uh, NO. NOOOO, mother. Jessica Alba did NOT have her baby shower at a Golden Corral, and neither will I. Call me a snob, call me an Obama elitist, I don't care. I'm simply NOT in favor of having a shower somewhere where somebody might spew chunks of masticated buffet food everywhere. Gross."

My mother was sad--she has some weird love/obsession of this restaurant.

Okay. Now that that's done. Pictures!

My niece took pictures. Be ware, Britney Spears. There could be a tiny paparazzo lurking in your bushes:






(That's my mom in the background, with her snazzy new 21st century 'do.)



Diaper (and shoes, and baby spoons, and cute thank you cards) Cake!



....and me with cute diaper cake. Which my fabulous sister in law got me, in addition to throwing a beautiful shower. All by herself, yo!



Baby butt cake! Made by my fabulously talented friend Renee. Also, there's a super funny story behind this involving the controversial argument about "good" vs. "bad" hair, but I'm not allowed to tell it. Because it could cause a family rift. So all I'll say is: Had an afro been put on this kid's head, that would have been stinking hilarious! But she's got braids instead...and a straight part! Papa was proud. (Please note: the real Melissa's hair will not actually look this good if I have to do it.)

Miss Grace, who loooooves butts. Here, she is pointing to her favorite body part. And then, right after, she ate it.



You can't see this, but I am about to burst into touched, happy tears (I usually smile through my tears...Charles thinks I'm really weird with this. The only time I don't smile when I'm crying is if I've physically hurt myself. And then I say shocking (SHOCKING!) words. It's really not a pretty sight...or fun to hear).

I am reading a card from my good friend Patresa, who is a talented writer and another sweet, lovely human being who I consistently find has supremely good energy about her:



This is Patresa's gift to Melissa. It's a Mysterio shirt! Here's how Mysterio works: you buy a shirt that decides what career your baby will end up in. They don't tell you what you're getting, and they seal it in a bag. Then you are surpriiiised! when you open it. This was important for 2 reasons. (1) I actually almost bought a Mysterio t-shirt because I found their website a few months ago and it totally cracked me up...that was proof there really is ESP in the world: Patresa read my mind!

And (2) Charles loves (I mean, LOVES) the Mafia. I asked him once: "What's the deal, McNeal?" And he said, "Tony Soprano is cool. Al Capone was icy chill. Frank Sinatra had mafia connections, and he was The Man. But mostly, in the Mafia you have to have supreme loyalty. And loyalty is a trait I value above all others.") (I didn't remind him that, in the Mafia, loyalty can sometimes unexpectedly turn on you, and become "You pissed me off, and so now I'm putting your feet in concrete blocks and throwing you in the river." I'm simply not one to stomp on anyone's dreams, or pop culture beliefs.)

However, clearly Mysterio knows his stuff (ESP!!)...and hopefully Melissa will inherit her father's Math DNA, because if she gets her mother's she could end up at the bottom of a river. In cement blocks.





My friend Kelly sent us buttloads of stuff. In addition to these way cute picture frames, she sent a ton of way cute clothes, like this:



Which I think says: "Mommy just THINKS she's in charge." Well, yeah. I mean, if I'm dealing with a Mafia Accountant, that is.



A little blue jogging suit! Charles was happy. He thinks too much pink sends the wrong message to girls. I think, until their hair grows a certain length, pink is essential so they don't get an early on-set complex when complete strangers call them "he" or refer to them as "a boy." Also, Charles expects Melissa to love the St. Louis Cardinals baseball team and the UCLA Bruins basketball team. He plans to dress her in these uniforms as much as humanly possible. ("But what if she loves the Atlanta Braves? And the Georgia Tech basketball team? When she gets older?" I asked. "Oh no," he said, "That won't happen in our house.") (We'll see what happens once she starts working for the MAFIA!)



My stepfather's sister sent me this--it's a Christmas baby bib! (I also got a Thanksgiving, a Valentine's, a St. Patrick's, and a Fourth of July bib--next year, I'm hoping for Halloween). It's kitschy. And handmade, which I do love a lot. Because when people handmake you stuff for gifts, I think they leave a little bit of their love/spirit behind in them. And that's so nice.

**********************************************************************

Pictures we did not get (Grace got distracted, and suddenly turned into slackerazzo):

Me opening my friend (and another talented writer) Angel's card and gift. But I was already kind of in tears at that point--Kelly overwhelmed me, and then I was surprised by Angel's gift, and then I surprised/overwhelmed by Patresa's and knew I would have to read Angel's and Patresa's cards when I got home. I'm glad I don't have a pacemaker or something in me. The love was too big and burst-y feeling, and sometimes pacemakers cause a big mess when that happens. That's just what blessings do to you.

So. The next time one of you people gets married or (surprisingly) pregnant? Guess what YOU might get at your shower!



I'm diabolical like that. It's a talent.
:-)