He then says, "But don't you have a book report to write?"
I've been giggling ever since...I didn't realize it, but I guess that's what I've been doing all summer. Maybe I've never outgrown 5th grade.
So last night, as I curled up on the couch with "In the Woods" (all of my favorite books deserve a second - and possibly third - read), Brian asked what I was planning to read next. I told him I hadn't decided yet.
He then says, "But don't you have a book report to write?" I've been giggling ever since...I didn't realize it, but I guess that's what I've been doing all summer. Maybe I've never outgrown 5th grade.
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In case you can't read the caption, it says...
Your mama loves u...even if the other kids calls you fat, she knows uz jes fluffy. Well, today was the big appointment...and all went great!
By all accounts, Baby B is looking amazing on ultrasound. He is practicing his breathing, his little heart is beating away, and all of his parts are in the right place and appear to be the right size. I don't think there is a parent out there that ever gets tired of hearing how "great," "awesome," and "beautiful" their child is. The ultrasound technician as well as the doctor (who usually is a bit more stoic) had nothing but praise for our little guy, which was seriously music to Brian's and my ears. And the big news...Baby B seems to have skipped over the featherweight division and is cruising to be a heavy weight by birth. He weighed in today at a whopping SEVEN POUNDS, NINE OUNCES. Yes, I have almost 8 lbs of baby in my uterus at 34w5d. This child is measuring in the 98% on all growth charts. I would be concerned about his gi-normous size, but every test has come back showing no sign of any kind of problem. He's just a really, really, really big baby. The doctor came in and asked both of us which parent we blame; I, of course, pointed to Brian and his 10 lb birth weight, and Brian was just as quick to point to me and highlight my Jr. Whooper and brownie addiction. Whatever is going on, this kid clearly has a healthy blood supply and a highly-functional placenta; he is not going hungry, that's for sure. I've always strived to be a good hostess, and I think this is the ultimate compliment. :-) Other news included that as of next Saturday, August 8th, I will be off ALL of my medications (!!) AND I will be off of bedrest. The doctor was quick to caution me not to hit the gym (um, no worries, dude), and to take things slowly, but I can already taste the freedom. He also believes there is very little chance I will reach my due date and instead will go into labor in the next three weeks. For those of you who read the post about Kelly's scheduled c-section, this puts us squarely around the time frame. Again. :-) But, it's not in our hands at this point, it's in nature's hands. So, whatever happens, I'm sure our little guys will enjoy sharing a birthday, or at the very least, the same birth month. But unfortunately, not for me.
No, the good news comes for my sister Kelly. She had her 34 week appointment yesterday and they booked her c-section! Nothing has got to be more surreal than scheduling the birth of your child. She called all breathless yesterday afternoon with the details, and it sounds as though little Ben will be joining us on August 18th, 2009 at approximately 9:30am. I love that Kelly insisted on the first surgery of the day. In her words, she wanted her doctor "at his freshest." Nice. Not only do we have an estimated time of arrival, but Ben is also already engaged in the pelvis and the cervix is shortening. This kid is locked and loaded, ready to go! So in just under three weeks, Kelly will officially be a mom and I will be a proud aunt! So exciting. I remain a question mark. Baby B seems to very content hanging out in the Four Seasons of wombs. My doctor (regular doc today, specialist tomorrow) commented that there is an ample amount of room in there for him to stretch out and swim. Great. I mean, why would he want to leave? Room service, complete maid service, and luxurious accommodations. Funny how just four weeks ago (hell, three DAYS ago) I was frantic to keep him as long as possible, and now I'm clawing for an end date. Obviously, we want to keep him in there as long as possible, but I wouldn't mind just knowing when he will arrive... Kelly, of course, is handling the good news as only Kelly can. According to her, when the doctor gave her the date, one of her comments was, "So this is really happening, huh? There's no going back?" That totally cracked me up. I will be sad to lose my partner in pregnancy, since we've been doing this together since gestational week 6. I'm also concerned since my uterus clearly heard our conversation, and it will decide to kick into labor right around August 17th or something. I don't trust my uterus to not act up at exactly the wrong time. My poor parents don't know where to fly and when, although the picture is starting to form more clearly. There is talk of a trip to Minnesota first, and then possibly flying from there to Vegas and then back. So if you see a nice couple wandering around Midway or O'Hare airport in mid-August, looking weary and anxious, please be nice to them. It just might be my folks. I think all we know for sure right now is that the next 30+ days or so will be a very exciting time for our family! Okay, I admit it; this is the book that kept me from paying serious attention to the Bachelorette Finale. And can you blame me? As Jillian/Kiptyn/Ed droned on about love and longing, I had 466 pages that captured their sentiments far better and more articulately than those three ever could.
Which goes to say, "The Likeness" is not a romance - or even romantic - novel. Ha - not even close. Unless you count dead college students romantic (and if you do, well, that makes you weird). "The Likeness" is Tana French's second go with Detectives Cassie Maddox and Rob Ryan on Dublin's Murder Squad. Set six months after "In the Woods" ended, this story is from Cassie's point of view. If you read "In the Woods," you've probably come to know and like Cassie; she's a scrappy, tough, and extremely likable woman with a good head on her shoulders and the courage to match. In short, the exact opposite of Emily Giffin's and Sophie Kinsella's normal bubblep-headed, shoe-obsessed protagonists. Cassie finds herself drawn into a mystery of mind-numbing proportions. Her former handler in the Undercover department, Frank Mackey, brings her onto a case of a person who never existed: Lexie Madison, her old alias. Cassie's Lexie was invented in Frank's office several years ago when Cassie infiltrated a known drug ring at Trinity College. But that Lexie was stabbed several years ago and Cassie resumed her normal identity. But one bright Irish morning yields a dead woman in a cottage who not only bears a striking resemblance to Cassie but also holds carries a Trinity College ID with the name Lexie Madison. While Lexie might never have existed, the dead body is certainly real enough. Frank then suggests the impossible; in order to catch the killer, he encourages Cassie to resume her former identity. By telling Lexie's roommates that she was merely wounded, not killed, Cassie must learn all of Lexie's quirks and interests to pull off this stunt. This novel, similar to the last, is more of a study in character development than a true 'Gotcha!' murder mystery. Without giving too much away, the most shocking part of the book is that Cassie-turned-Lexie finds a home for the first time; orphaned at the age of five, Cassie has never understood what it's like to be surrounded by loving people. With her roommates at Whitethorn House, she finds the draw of family more enticing than her adrenaline-laced job with the Irish garda (the Garda is the police force, for you non-Irish speaking folks out there). The line between reality and fiction starts to blur, and Cassie runs the risk of seriously loosing her professional objectivity. **SPOILERS AHEAD. READ AT YOUR OWN RISK OR SKIP THE NEXT TWO PARAGRAPHS** Now you know the basics of the book, it's impossible to talk about this novel without referencing (and spoiling) plot aspects of "In the Woods." We know whatever love/camaraderie happened between Cassie and Rob died at the end of the first book, but in "The Likeness," you find out more. Sam is the head detective from Murder assigned to Lexie's case, and also Cassie's boyfriend, but he must watch as Cassie and Frank weave more lie after another, possibly jeopardizing his relationship with her. And Cassie seemed okay letting it happen. I personally was dying to find out what happened between Cassie and Rob and seriously had my fingers crossed for the entire book that she would ditch boring Galway Sam for psychologically-traumatized but dashingly-handsome Rob. This book also had me wondering if I'm more of a romantic than I realized. While I love a good mystery, I will admit, I was far more interested in the Cassie-Rob-Sam dynamic than I was in Lexie Madison and the Whitethorn group. Rob is only mentioned by name in the book, never making an appearance, and the mystery between the failed relationship (I mean, besides the fact Rob freaked out completely and acted like a complete idiot) is revealed in two small paragraphs embedded in the novel's ending. Those two paragraphs had me bawling - literally, sobbing - at 1:30am while sitting in the baby's nursery. (I really wanted to finish the novel last night, and Brian had to go to bed. Sitting in the glider in the nursery seemed like a good option at that point, even though I had no idea what I was in for.) And with those two paragraphs, it all made sense. I cannot say enough about a writer who cleverly tucks the most powerful of plot lines in the most unlikely of places. And you know what? Now I'm totally Team Cassie. And I hope she and Sam are very happy together in the future. Rob can sit and rot for all I care. (how is THAT for change in attitude?) **SPOILERS OVER. CONTINUE READING** Tana French really needs some major publicity, Oprah-style. I would love to see either novel made into movie-form, though the lovely narrative quality that is so appealing about both books would clearly be lost. If I had to choose, I would say I enjoyed "In the Woods" more than "The Likeness," but both are excellent reads. French doesn't treat the reader like an idiot (thank you!) and she is more the comfortable leaving loose ends by the novel's completion. While this may bother some readers, I love it. I think it just opens the door for further stories involving this group of characters. Also, allegedly, word on the street is that the third book is from Frank Mackey's point of view, which should be hilarious and fascinating. As Cassie's boss, he had the charming, slippery quality that makes you love him and hate him at the same time. I can only imagine the trouble he'll get into. Grade: A It has come to my attention that Tori is Jillian's cousin, not sister as previously mentioned. In order for my theory to hold true, let's just assume that Tori and Jillian grew up on the same street and were extremely close growing up. Thank you.
(I *might* have been reading my book during the first part of the show.) The Bed Rest Book Club regrets the error. As I sit here typing this, I need to warn all of you that I'm not exactly up to full power today. The medication that was increased yesterday can cause some wicked headaches, and by 7pm last night, I was laying on the couch, clutching my head in my hands, moaning. I woke up this morning feeling as though I had just gone on a bender with tequila, though the cruel irony is that I haven't had a sip of alcohol since 2008. So I am sipping tea, squinting at my computer, trying to get my brain to function.
The only word that comes to mind when I think about last night's show is "anti-climatic." I think everyone in the free world had guessed that in the end, Jillian picked Ed. Despite Kiptyn's blandness, Brian and I were both shocked and saddened that Jillian also essentially turned down San Diego by proxy. Maybe it's just us, but we both believe that that little city by the sea is America's version of utopia. I mean, Shamu lives there. What more could you want? It was helpful, however, to finally understand the root of Jillian's insecurity. In two words: her sister. Ouch. As soon as Tori (?) came on the screen, both Brian and I groaned. Tori, with her cute nose, high cheekbones, and shiny hair made Jillian pale in comparison, no doubt the reason behind Jillian's "great personality." Tori was also sporting what looked to be either an engagement ring or wedding band on the left hand, making the difference between the two even worse. I'm sure Tori made the cheerleading squad with ease, aced Canada's version of the SATs, and is married or engaged to her high school sweetheart. Perhaps they have one or two perfect looking Canandian children. ("Hey, dar") I'm sure Jillian was relegated to newpaper editor or perhaps joined the high school band (all not bad things...) to compete, but never felt as though she measured up. In Tori's shadow, Jillian's "adventurousness" seems more like recklessness and this need to find her true love on a TV show comes across as desperate, not self-confident. Poor Jillian. I hope the show gives her the number to a good therapist when the media blitz dies down. Certainly, this helps to explain the low self-esteem and pick the only guy in the show's history to ever willingly leave production for his job. In the words of Wayne Campbell, "I'm not worthy!" Okay, enough about Jillian. I don't think Ed will ever be the same again after that disastrous Fantasy Date several weeks ago. Brian snorted every time Ed came on the screen wearing some variation of a pink and/or gingham shirt. Paired with the green man-kini shorts, well...Ed wasn't boosting our confidence in him. Before they took off on their helicopter date, Brian shouted at the TV, "Don't over-exert yourself, Ed!" to which we both dissolved in giggles. When they flew over the volcano, Brian snorted and muttered, "Irony." And of course, by the end of the date, that shot of the fire-red volcano spewing (ew) molten lava made both of us roll our eyes. I'm sure some some low-ranking production editors are high-fiving in a dark room somewhere in LA, pleased with their cleverness. I tried really hard to give my full attention to Kiptyn during this episode, since in episodes past, I'm only able to fixate on his hair for several seconds before completely losing interest. The guy is just so vanilla. Don't get me wrong - he's like, perfect, wash-board abs, tanned delicious vanilla, but vanilla nonetheless. And again, despite my vow for complete concentration, I found I was more thoughtful about my evening snack (brownie, or brownie sundae?) than I was about Kiptyn's alleged love for Jillian. My only hope is that he entertains all offers from ABC in the coming months, and perhaps pulls a 'Bob' by marrying a soap star that can relate to his love of sit-ups and hair products. And in case you are curious, the brownie sundae won. Do I even discuss Reid? It's kind of like kicking a puppy, in some ways. The poor guy didn't get to meet with Neil Lane (what was up with those rings? Is this is the post-recession look: millions of teeny-tiny diamonds squished together to look expensive? What happened to the clean, flawless look?) and worst of all, he had to show up for the final rose in a red mini-van. Ouch. He popped out of that van wearing what appeared to be a suit coat, buttoned-down shirt minus a tie, some kind of olive-colored khaki pants, and white sneakers. Did the show deny him a stylist, too? I can't believe Jillian would even entertain the idea of Reid's proposal on the same day she was committed to accepting Ed's. Chris Harrison-turned-Mom-turned-therapist was able to steer Jillian in the right direction ("Follow your heart," he advised her solemnly. "What movie is that from?" I asked Brian. He replied, "No, you are confusing that with, "Cover your heart, Indy! Cover your heart!" and we both started giggling again). So sweaty Reid was sent packing, yet again, and hopped back into the presumably un-air conditioned wagon to lick his wounds. I'm not sure what will happen on tonight's "After the Final Rose," but I'm not optimistic. After all, Jillian has been making these cryptic (Kiptyc?) remarks about how "she" is happy with the outcome, not "we." At least this season produced some of the more colorful characters to ever grace the series: dastardly Wes, chivalrous Jake, man-pup Michael. Maybe they'll name Wes as the next Bachelor? Nah. Then the show could only be aired only on VH1. :-) Okay, I'm off to lay on the couch with the lights off and the shades drawn. Peace out. Just when you think you are safe to go back to the perinatologist's office... At this point, I'm sure the good people at our insurance are devising ways to drop me from the plan. I am just simply not cost-effective anymore. When you are on bed rest, probably the most frequent thought to go through your head is, "What can I do to entertain myself today?" It's all about entertainment and staying busy. Too much time to think will cause you to google scary things like, "viability at 32 weeks gestational age" and "likelihood of stillbirth." Google is such an amazing tool, but so dangerous when left unsupervised. Anyways, I woke up this past Tuesday feeling super antsy. I knew I needed to do something to occupy my mind, which is what lead to today...Cupcake Day. The background is that last October, my sister sent Brian the most amazing cupcakes for his birthday. They were from this fancy-schmancy bakery in San Fransicso and were as asthetically pleasing as they were delicious (see picture). I think Brian ate one and I ate 12. They were just seriously heaven. I've been thinking a lot about those cupcakes in recent weeks (early on, my doctor asked me if I had experienced any cravings and I replied, "Yes. High-fructose corn syrup." He didn't even laugh). So randomly, on Tuesday, I decided to order some for myself. The entertainment value came as I was filling out the shipping information. I felt kind of silly ordering a gift for myself, but then the website asked what occasion this was for. I tentatively selected "Baby." Then it asked me to type a message to the recipient. Again, this is where the boredom really hits home. Giggling the whole time, I typed, "Congrats on 34 weeks! You can do it. From, Me." I recognize this is probably not even funny to most people, but it's made me laugh all week. When I told Brian what I did, he just shook his head. When I told him I addressed the card to myself, he looked slightly fearful. But whatever. My cupcakes were delivered today and they are WONDERFUL!!! Happy Cupcake Day. :-) |
About Me
Think of this as the epilogue to Bridget Jones' story. Well, mostly. Bridget marries the handsome lawyer, starts a blog while on bedrest, and decides marathon running sounds like fun. Bridget goes through a divorce but keeps running. Hilarity ensues. Archives
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