The Adventures of Zube Girl: June 2007

Because the other list is aging.

1. Dude? Is, like, my favorite word.

2. I have a cousin. We're five months apart. She's always been my best friend. We call each other Bubbaloo. It started one drunken evening when we were returning from down the shore. We still call each other that. Our husbands think we're crazy. Sometimes I call her when our song is on the radio. Runaway Train. Only we changed the lyrics. Runaway Brain.

3. I have another cousin. He and Bro and I hung out all the time. When we found out My Belle was knocked up too, he sent me an e-mail.

hey think about it. three cousins all the same age. all i have to say is i think this has happened before. rule#1. hide the beer. rule # 2, hide the pot. rule#3, no living in the basement. if everyone follows these three rules the little ones should avoid the perils three other cousins close in age came to experience. oh yeah just because this joke hasn't been used in awhile; rule#4 no michael jordan posters.

I have 97 more things to write. Perhaps I'll tell the Michael Jordan tale in one of them.

4. After my junior year in college when I was all sad and depressed, I moved into my parents basement. My college roommate, D (who is due to have a baby in August, Woot!), lived with me. My cousin, Bro, D and I fucking rocked that basement. Suffice it to say that at the end of the summer when I was about to go back to college, my parents decided to clean the basement out and were surprised to find hidden among all of the basement crap empty beer box after empty beer box after empty beer box. Hee. That was a really fun summer despite my sorrows.

5. I love all of my cousins fiercely. I hope Little Zee experiences the same loving loyalty, though she likely won't live near her cousins. I worry about that.

6. Little Zee, whom we called The Turtle while she was chillin' in the womb, actually makes a turtle face quite regularly.

It's nice to know, after the fact, that we nicknamed her so appropriately.

7. Right now, I'm wearing a t-shirt with dribbled formula all over my left boob and sweatpants with spit up on both legs. I'm such a Mom. It's a great feeling.

8. I want so badly for Painting Chef to get knocked up with a keeper, it hurts. Infertility is not fucking fair. I don't know why I got so lucky while others are still in wait.

9. Little Zee squeaks. Only when she squeaks, it doesn't really sound squeakyish. Zube Boy's sister pointed out, she sounds like a pterodactyl. It's awesome. And appropriate. Since her room is covered in dinosaurs.

10. At night, I like to leave the little lights above the stove on. It annoys Zube Boy because those bulbs are special and expensive. But, he lets me get away with it because he knows it reminds me of sleeping over my Mommom's house as a kid. She did the same thing.

11. I have one memory from when I was about twelve. I was delivering papers on my bike. It was raining. I was at the furthest house on my route. The house was way, way back from the street. I comtemplated just throwing the paper in the yard. But I didn't. I walked all the way up to the house and tucked it inside the screen door. For some reason, my twelve year old self told me I wanted to remember that moment for the rest of my life. And I did.

12. Being pregnant somehow managed to shrink my ass. That bums me out. I had a sweet plump ass once upon a time.

13. When I was about sixteen, I went shopping. I was trying on a purple suede skirt and a colorful sheer blouse. The salesgirl was black. When I came out of the dressing room, she proclaimed, "Damn, girl! How'd you get an ass like that? You got a black girl bootie." I blushed. And bought the outfit. I've been strangely proud of my Zube Booty ever since.

14. The diversity in my little town sucks. There are a few black people from Africa who live here. But not many Americans. There's the one guy who works at the liquor store. And another who dj's. I worry about raising Little Zee in a not so diverse place.

15. I work with a guy from Senegal in Africa. His wives live over there. We argue the merits of having one wife or two. I tell him Zube Boy says one wife is enough. He tells me two wives can talk to each other and bother you less. So far no one has won the debate. Different strokes. Though, I do believe Zube Boy would argue that having just one wife who lives in another country is ideal. So maybe we both win.

16. While we're on the subject, when I was in fourth grade I brought a baby name book to school. My friends and I spent some time looking up the meaning of our names. Melanie, a black girl, looked hers up. It said, "dark and melancholy." She said, "I'm not melancholy!" I said, "But you are dark." All the other white kids gasped and looked at Melanie. She laughed her ass off and said, "That's true." I didn't get what the big deal was. Were we supposed to pretend she wasn't dark?

17. It kind of annoys me when people say they're color blind. But I don't feel like it's my place to be annoyed. I mean, if you're color blind, it also seems to me that you'd be blind to the obstacles people of color face.

18. My head is kind of spinning from going back and forth between past and present so quickly. It's not a bad kind of spinning, but a good kind. Like, when you're a kid and you spin around in circles until you get so dizzy you fall down giggling. It's like that.

19. In my dreams, I've always had two boys and a girl.

20. Sometimes I think, though, that having another girl would be cool. Hoot and My Belle are my bestest friends and I'd like that for Zee. But, then again, so is Bro. I'd like that for Zee, too.

21. My favorite number is 21.

22. Sometimes at work, I'll say I'm in a bad mood. And then I laugh. I'm never really in a bad mood. When someone at the front desk pisses me off? My boss knows they must be a real asshole.

23. I had three miscarriages and only missed three days of work. After the third miscarriage, I said I needed some time to myself. I took off three days. I hate missing work.

24. I tried breastfeeding. It was hard. Really, really hard. One night, while Little Zee was crying and hungry and I was crying and feeling dejected, I decided, fuck this. My kid wants food. I can't get it right with the boob. Breastfeeding is healthier, this I know, but it can't be healthy, the two of us sitting here crying. I gave her formula. And when she looked so sweetly up into my eyes while downing her bottle, I knew that I'd made the right decision for us.

25. Really, I wanted to breasfeed because it was cheap. When it wasn't working, I was surprised by how let down and inadequate I felt.

26. My brother and I were formula fed. My sisters were breastfed. Mom says my brother and I never got sick, while the girls did. I know it's just anecdotal, but it makes me feel better.

27. I live at 9,600 feet altitude. This means that you actually DO have to follow the high altitude instructions when you're baking.

28. It also means that when I go down to sea level, I can outdrink the best of them.

29. The song, "Lean on Me," makes me cry every time I hear it.

30. So does "Leather and Lace." That was Zube Boy's and my wedding song. It is totally us.

31. When My Belle went into labor, I was astounded by the urge I felt to run to her. I don't know if it was because she's my sister or because she's the baby. Or maybe it's a combination.

32. I'm in love with you. You who read me. I still can't believe so many people were out there supporting us during the miscarriages and difficult pregnancy. Those who've been around for a while. Those who are new. Those who lurk. I go back and read your comments from the day Little Zee was born and after and cry. It's an "I Appreciate the Everloving Shit Out of You" kind of cry.

33. A girl named Becca commented here. She had three miscarriages and is pregnant with a baby girl. Her first keeper. I think about you Becca. I hope you're doing well. Feel free to let me know when that baby girl makes her debut! And also feel free to send me a photo of her in her "Worth the Wait" onesie.

34. The instant Little Zee was born I knew that I would walk, hop, skip, somersault, cartwheel, or Zube dance to the ends of the earth for her. I knew that before, even. But I didn't FEEL it until a couple of weeks after she was here. I felt like a really shitty Mom because of that. I swore I'd never tell anyone. But I decided to share it after all. It's not abnormal. It doesn't make you a shitty Mom. It's just that people who do experience it usually keep it a secret because they think they're all alone. And they're not.

35. I really and truly didn't believe I'd have a baby. Not even on the operating table getting prepped for my c-section.

36. Zube Boy and I were prepared for our baby to be relatively quiet after the c-section. Maybe a couple of squeaks. The nurses said that c-section babies are sometimes quiet after they're born because they haven't gone through the exercise of birth. When Zee emerged, she screamed her little fucking head off. It was the best gift she could have given me.

37. Zube Boy said I heaved a huge sigh of relief when I she let out her wail. The biggest he's ever heard.

38. Sometimes I'm still shocked to find that I have a baby. But I never doubt it at 4 in the morning when she's hungry.

39. When Zube Boy and I drive long distances, I do most of the driving. I like driving. And I can't sleep in the car anyway. It works for us.

40. I think writing my first list of 100 Things was easier.

41. The day before Little Zee was born, I bought a pumpkin pie because it was Thanksgiving on the Sopranos and they were eating one. I wanted one, too. I headed out 10 minutes before the grocery store closed and brought my prized pregnancy craving home. I was dismayed to find that it had to bake for 70 minutes and cool for two hours. I decided to make it the next day.

42. The next day, I had a baby. On the way to the hospital at 4AM, I wondered to Zube Boy if I would still want that pumpkin pie when I wasn't pregnant anymore.

43. When we came home from the hospital, Zube Boy had made the pumpkin pie. It was indeed yummy.

44. But not as yummy as I'm sure it would have been if I were still knocked up.

45. I'm wondering if you're still wondering if I'll tell you the story about the Michael Jordan poster.

46. The whole time I was pregnant, I would never read pregnancy or parenting magazines in the waiting room of the OB's office. And it kind of sucked because the only other magazines they had were sports. I found a People and an AARP magazine buried among the others. I read the same ones at every appointment.

47. I just went in for my six week check-up and I starting looking for my old standby magazines. Then I remembered that I had a baby. A healthy baby. And I could probably start reading parenting magazines.

48. Sometimes I wonder if my blog is less of a blog and more of a book. With an ending. I'm not sure if I've sort of come to the ending.

49. I think James Gandolfini is hot. Or, wait. No. I think Tony Soprano is hot.

50. I stopped watching The Sopranos after they killed Adriana. I loved her. And it was the last of a bunch of things to piss me off.

51. The first of which was the fact that Jennifer Melfi's rape was never addressed. Not even in subsequent seasons. I guess I sort of projected my own baggage onto the show.

52. The second was that Ralphie wasn't killed sooner. I hated that asshole. I guess I was supposed to. I was so fucking mad when he killed that poor stripper girl. Fucking cock.

53. I have on DVD the episode where Tony finally killed Ralphie. I've watched it many times.

54. I wanted the Sopranos theme song to be the entrance song into our wedding reception. Zube Boy vetoed that. Maybe that was a good thing.

55. The opening credits remind me of home.

56. I went to the grocery store on Friday after my c-section on Wednesday. People were shocked. I felt great.

57. We took Little Zee and went out for cheesesteaks on Saturday. Zee was four days old. When people asked how old she was and we told them, they tsked us for having her out so soon. We started lying and telling people she was two weeks. Some people still tsked. Fuck 'em.

58. When my Mom was here a couple of weeks ago, I thought she would be holding the baby 24/7. She didn't. She helped a lot, don't get me wrong. But what was kind of cool and what I didn't expect was that she enjoyed watching me be a mom. Now that I think about it, it makes sense.

59. When I was little, I cut my own hair. Then I told my Mom that the girl down the street did it because I didn't want to have to hang out with her anymore.

60. For some reason, I'm thinking I may have already put that story in my first 100 Things. But, I'm too lazy to look.

61. I know for a fact that I mentioned my Mommom coming to me in a dream in my original list. She told me I'd have three kids. What I didn't mention, and what I'd never told anyone because I was afraid to say it out loud, was that she looked sad after she said it and added that there would be problems. And indeed there were. I can say it out loud now because Zee is here.

62. During all three failed pregnancies, my Mommom visited my dreams again. Each one revolved around me being hugely pregnant or in labor. I thought each time that it meant that pregnancy was the one. She never visited me during my pregnancy with Zee. In retrospect, I think she was giving me hope that though that pregnancy would fail, I would someday have a child.

63. After the six week ultrasound with Zee, and being told by the doctor that her heartbeat was a little slow and we'd have to check again in a week, I went out to my car and stood there for a few minutes. I worried that I was doomed to lose her, too. Then, from deep inside, I heard a voice. It said, "I am strong. I am strong. I am strong." over and over again. At first I thought it was me. And I said, "Yeah, um, not feeling so much the strong right now." It wouldn't be shushed. I finally realized it wasn't me at all. It was Zee. I clung to that moment the whole time I was pregnant.

64. Zube Boy can't stand paisley bedspreads. Or flowery ones. This is severely limiting to my inner bedroom designer. We have a tan suedish bedspread now, and lucky for us both, I dig it, too.

65. We got a new king bed a few months ago. It is so high, I have a step stool to get into it.

66. I probably don't really need the step stool anymore. It was imperative when I was hugely pregnant. But, it's cute and I don't feel like moving it. So I still use it.

67. My friend in college had a life sized Michael Jordan cardboard stand up thing. She was obsessed with Michael Jordan.

68. Heh.

69. When we were little, ahem, and big, we always had to call our Mom if we were out and about and an ambulence siren went off, so that she would know we were okay. Sometimes, even now, 2,000 miles away, I still call my Mom when I hear an ambulence.

70. When Mom was visiting, she took Zee for a walk. An ambulence siren went off. She called me at the office to tell me that she wasn't sure if I was as crazy as her but she wanted to let me know that she and Zee were fine, despite the ambulence driving up the street. I told her that, ironically enough, the ambulence was heading to the hotel for my coworker who suddenly lost part of his vision.

71. This same coworker crocheted Zee a blanket.

He's, like, this huge former college football player guy. I think that's rad.

72. He's okay. Seeing some specialists right now.

73. My brother and my cousin used to come and visit me at college. We'd go out and get wasted at all the college parties. I had a blue sleeping bag with pink elephants on it and they used to fight over who got to use it. It was fucking funny.

74. Our renters came by to pay the rent after Zee was born. I asked one about his father, who found out he had cancer just months before. He said that he had died a couple of weeks before. I told him I was so sorry. He said, "One life ends and another begins," and pointed to Zee. I thought that was very wise and very stoic for a 20-year-old who'd just lost his father to say.

75. Zube Boy changed Zee's first poopy diaper. We were in the hospital and I couldn't move my legs yet. Those first poops? Are nasty. He was so brave.

76. Okay, so someone, I'm not naming names, might've sauntered across my friend's college dorm room in a drunken stupor and decided that the best place to take a piss was on a life size replica of Michael Jordan.

77. I'm afraid I might have built that story up to be funnier than it actually was. But what's funnier is having a Michael Jordan poster inexplicably displayed at someone's bachelor party.

78. I always give Zee the tousled hair look after her bath. Well, except that one time when I gave her a mohawk. See, I figure, she has plenty of years ahead of her to worry about her hair. Why start now?

79. When I was a kid, I wanted to be Amish. I thought the outfits were cute.

80. I had a huge mole on my back until I was 10. It was horrible and kids would make fun of me. They'd call me moley. I'd always come back with the response my mother had taught me, "It's NOT a mole, it's a BEAUTY mark." I finally had it removed. Now I have a long slash back there. I tell people it's a knife wound.

81. I also had a small mole on the back of my left leg. In school, kids would unknowingly swat at it as we were climbing the stairs in between classes thinking it was a bug. I had it removed in high school. I actually sort of miss it.

82. A few months after Zube Boy and I started dating, I sat down one night and started to tell him that I'd been raped. He let me finish talking and said, "I knew." He'd read through the mountain of books I had and found a few titles on coping with rape. I asked him why he didn't say anything. He said he knew I would tell him when the time was right.

83. Every single fucking day after school, Bro and I would get home and he'd INSIST on watching either Short Circuit, Space Camp, or the Goonies. I hated all three. Now, though, it's kind of a cute thing to remember.

84. My family came out to visit when I first moved to Colorado. My Belle went tumbling down a mountainside. We laughed hysterically. She started limping. It wasn't too swollen. We told her to buck up and quit being a baby. Three days later, she was still limping, so Mom took her to the doctor. She had three broken bones in her foot. Oops. I felt like an ass.

85. For her birthday one year, I told her not to answer her phone and I called and sang various birthday song messages on her machine. One of them was:

Happy Birthday to you!
You wore one shoe!
When you broke your foot,
And I laughed at you!

86. Hoot has decided that instead of getting married and having kids, she wants to be the crazy aunt. I think that's awesome. I sometimes feel guilty for wanting to add more people to an overburdened planet. When other people have no desire to have children, it makes me feel a little less guilty.

87. I have REALLY ugly pinky toes. They're all turned sideways and the nail is bent in the middle. Ew.

88. When it seems not uncomfortable to do so, I share our fertility struggles with people who ask about Zee. I think it's important for people to know that babies don't come easily to everyone.

89. I feel like I missed out on a rite of passage by having a c-section. That feeling was compounded by the fact that my baby sister gave birth the regular way just a few weeks later. I wonder if that feeling will ever dwindle.

90. But, I won't doubt that we made the right decision because the end result is more important.

91. I'd really like to write a book, but I don't know if I have the self-discipline. Blogging is more my style. And now I'm sucking at that.

92. Recently, I've been thinking about the girl who stared at a bottle of pills, contemplating taking them and ending her sorrows, and I thank her for putting those pills down. I had no way of knowing, back then, that I'd ever find joy. But I had faith that I would. I had to have because sleeping forever was pretty damn tempting.

93. I wore Isotoner slippers almost every day of my senior year in high school. They were so cozy.

94. I also brought a travel mug of coffee every day. And it was confiscated almost every day. I thought it was stupid that I couldn't bring coffee with me to school. It became a joke between me and Mr. F, my Coffee Confiscator.

95. One day I was walking down the hall after school before cheerleading practice. I was wearing leggings with umbros over them (ah, the 90's). The principal stopped me. He said that we were not allowed to wear shorts to school. So I promptly removed them. In the hall. In front of him. After all, leggings back then constituded pants, because we all must have been breathing in some polluted fog that made us collectively fashionably stupid, but anyway. He was not impressed.

96. In third grade, this kid started writing his assignment with a blue pen, though the teacher told us to get out our red pens. He had forgotten his red pen. The teacher stopped class and proceeded to yell at him. "Does that pen write red?" He thought for a minute, and wrote the word "RED" on the paper in front of him. "Yes, it does. See?" He was a troublemaker and everyone kind of thought he was stupid. But that was a pretty smart move if you ask me. I wonder about him sometimes. The teacher wasn't impressed, but I was.

97. We have four jeeps. A 2001, a 1994, a 1995 (all Cherokees), and a 1984 CJ7. Now we have a Jeep stroller. And a Jeep baby carrier. I guess you could say we're a jeep family.

98. When Zee was born, Zube Boy called his buddy at work, The Englishman, to tell him the good news. The Englishman announced that we had a baby girl and her name was Cora Jane. One of the guys piped up, "Is her last name seven?" It took Zube Boy a minute to get what he was saying. Then it finally dawned on him. Surprisingly, we did not name our daughter after his offroading jeep, the CJ7.

99. The night that the video for "Thriller" came out, I was at a slumber party. I didn't sleep all night. Not for fear of having my bra frozen because, shit, I don't think I even wore a bra back then, but because the video was so scary.

100. I'm going to publish this before I reread it. Mostly because once I publish things, I'm far too lazy to edit them. And I'd like this to remain untouched.