In Defense of the Crazy

Today my dad told me that until my brother graduates from college, whenever he and my mom fly without him, they are going to take separate flights. My initial reaction was to tell my dad he was crazy and that it wasn't logical. To which he responded it wasn't crazy and everything didn't have to adhere to strict logic. Were they going to start driving in separate cars, I asked? No, just taking separate flights.

After I hung up with my dad, I called my friend and told her about this odd development. She immediatley agreed that it was crazy. My parents would never even think of that she said. Like that validated them as completely sane and my parents as completely insane. She proceeded to tell me her mom would make fun of a person who did that. Well, I immediately flew to the defense of my parents saying that who knows why parents do what they do and maybe we would both feel that way someday when we become parents. I told her how my parents baby my brother, in large part because he has diabetes. How it really effected them when he was first admitted into the hospital. We discussed the issue for a long time, and in the end, I almost had myself convinced that it wasn't such a crazy idea after all. And, maybe it isn't. Or maybe I just didn't like the idea of other people calling my parents crazy and judging my parents. In the end though, what my parents are doing isn't really negatively effecting anybody else, and it's something they want to do, for whatever reason, and it makes them feel better. Ultimately, it's out of love, crazy love, maybe, but love nonethless, and who can fault that?

Being Pamela Anderson

When I was a young girl, I like many others my age, read Are You There God, It's Me, Margaret. The book was about a group of girls who were pretty much obsessed with puberty and becoming women - getting their periods and growing breasts. They had this little exercise they would do where they would pump their arms and repeat "I must, I must, I must increase my bust." After reading this book, I think I may have tried this myself once or twice, just to see what they were doing. But, I don't ever remember being really concerned about the size of my chest. I guess I've been lucky to have good sized breasts, especially for an Asian woman. So, I don't think I've ever really wished that they were bigger.

When I found out I was pregnant, getting bigger breasts wasn't one of thing things I was hoping for. Though, I didn't really think it would be a bad thing. And at first, it wasn't - my breasts looked rounder and perkier, and I liked that, and so did my husband.

Then, things started to creep past that line of just too big. I felt like I was beginning to look a bit like a cartoon of sorts, small frame, gigantic breasts. I think the worst was when we wen to Nordstrom's and I shopped for some new bras. Normally, 32 C, so I figured I'd try D. Wrong. I was actually kind of horrified when I was in the fitting room and the Ds did not fit. I couldn't take it. I went outside and told my husband that it wasn't working, the Ds were too small. "Try on the bigger ones," he said. No, I said, slightly panicked. "Have you seen what the double Ds look like?" I pulled one out of the rack to show him. "Good God!" he said and burst out laughing. The cups were the size of my head, so we left.

But, maybe I should have tried those on. Because in the end, we went to Motherhood Maternity where I ended up getting a nursing bra in the right size. "What's that?" my husband asked, pointing at the clip on the shoulder strap. "You don't want to know." I said.

At least there though, the sizes run bigger, so I was still able to get a D. Although I was a little frightened by the fact that the sizes went up to like a G. Thankfully, at my last doctor's appointment, she reassured me that no, my breasts will not just continue to grow during the entire pregnancy. Phew.

A Big Beginning

Since this is my second attempt at blogging, I thought I'd kick it off with a big announcement - my husband and I are expecting our first baby in May! We were both shocked and thrilled when we found out because we thought it would take us months of trying, and actually, we got it on our first cycle! It's still sort of a secret, as we've only told my in-laws and a few friends, mainly out of necessity. I'm extremely superstitious by nature, and didn't want to tell anyone until after the first trimester. Even typing this makes me a bit nervous. We've actually already had a couple of scares (more on that later). I am waiting to tell my parents when I see them over Thanksgiving because I really want to be able to tell them that they will be grandparents for the first time in person. We are nearing the end of the first trimester (fingers crossed!) and because of aforementioned scares, we have actually been able to see the baby via ultrasound three times. This last time we were actually able to see the profile and make out its distinct facial features and see it kicking its leg and moving its arm. We even got that classic baby sucking its thumb profile, which we have a print out of at home. So, bear with me, this blog may center a lot around pregnancy and parenting musings because, wow, I'm going to be a mom.