Emotional Breakdowns

We’ve all seen the stereotypical pregnancy-hormone-induced dramatic episodes depicted in Hollywood or on television. The kind where a woman hears a sad song on the radio and bursts into tears, or screams at her husband for buying the wrong kind of potato chips to feed her midnight craving. Up until now, they made me laugh. They made me think, “No one is that crazy. Surely I would never be so irrational.” Oh, how I stand corrected.

The Beginning:

It started when my nausea was in full swing (which is over now, thank God!) and I could hardly look at any food without wanting to run to the nearest bathroom. Every evening, my loving husband would come home and say hesitantly, “what do you want to eat? We’ll go wherever you want.” One day, I just knew I wanted a muffaleta from Jason’s Deli. But alas, when we arrived I looked around at the people eating their sandwiches and read the descriptions on the menu and could think of nothing I wanted more than to yarf on every plate in the restaurant. Drew must have seen this on my face because he quickly said, “We don’t have to stay, we haven’t ordered yet.”

I nodded and hung my head and we exited the premises. As soon as we got into the car in the parking lot, I let loose. For some reason it was a matter of pride for me to be able to stuff down the muffaletta I had decided upon earlier, but I had failed. I cried until I started laughing at the ridiculousness of crying over a sandwich. This just further confused poor Drew, who was sitting in the driver’s seat struggling for a solution and began to grasp at straws. “Are we sad? Happy? Is this funny? Should I be crying or laughing? I’ll take you wherever you want to go.”

When my brief moment of insanity stopped, we went to KFC where I ate a side of mashed potatoes and a side of mac and cheese. It was delicious.

At the time, I was hoping that was it. I’d gotten all of my emotional mess out in one embarrassing episode and from then on it would be smooth sailing. But two weeks later, I really one-upped myself.

The Beginning of the End:

I should’ve seen it coming that Wednesday morning as I drove to work, scanning for a song on the radio. I couldn’t find anything I liked so I let a country song play out. The chorus mentioned “Tupelo honey,” and made me recall a news story I did in Florida with a beekeeper who made Tupelo honey. All of the sudden I realized there were tears in my eyes. “That was weird,” I thought, and I walked into the office.

Later that day, I was tasked with finding a conference room for some visiting producers. Seems like a pretty ordinary, menial task, right? Wrong. At the time, it was daunting and overwhelming. There are so many conference rooms to choose from! I needed to find one that’s big! And Dark! That’s when I felt the transformation happening. Angry and frustrated, my body began to expand. My muscles bulged and my veins popped out. My skin darkened into a murky shade of green. I ripped off my shirt, and stormed down the hallway. I believe someone snapped a photo of the creature I’d become:

Okay, maybe it wasn’t that dramatic, but it sure felt like it. As I ran to a co-worker to ask for help, she could sense the irrational level of stress rising in me. We checked out a conference room together and she was walking me back to my office (which I share with 2 other people) as I started to return to my natural state, and as we entered the room she said, “you know, I think you might be having one of those pregnancy hormonal moments.” Then, she made the mistake of hugging me. When I’m upset, a hug is like gasoline on a fire. Her nice gesture resulted in the most embarrassing and involuntary verbal explosion I’ve ever uttered in public:

“My uterus is the size of a grapefruit and I threw up in the shower this morning… FOR THE THIRD TIME!”

Then came the tears. Luckily, my coworkers are all my friends and they responded with a resounding, “awww,” each one offering either a piece of food or a tissue. The flood gates had opened. I spent my lunch break crying into a bowl of pasta for a half hour for absolutely no reason. I gave my husband permission to have me committed for the next 6 months.

That bad day got worse when my car broke down a couple of hours later. Remarkably, a co-worker who had earlier witnessed the Bruce Banner to Incredible Hulk transformation came to my rescue immediately. Perhaps it was out of fear that the beast would unleash again and take down the entire city of Phoenix.

Aside from getting into her car and immediately chugging the rest of her bottle of water instead of my own by accident, I handled the car trouble pretty well, with minimal tears. I guess the situation just didn’t seem as dire as eating a bowl of pasta.

The End… or most likely to be continued

When I got home from work, I googled “public pregnancy breakdowns” just to see if anyone else’s story could make me feel a little more sane or at least give my misery and embarrassment the company it deserved. I got the biggest laugh from a story about a woman whose husband said hello to a waitress in a restaurant and she responded by throwing a plate of cheese and storming out, leaving him to pay.

What I find most interesting about any crying I’ve done lately (which I guess thankfully has only been on a few occasions,) is that even at the time I know it’s irrational, but I just can’t stop. Drew has shown incredible patience during this time, and I appreciate that he didn’t take me up on my offer to be committed.

While I hope that the episodes described in this blog are the only breakdowns I will have worth mentioning, I know I’ve still got at least 6 months of hormonal racquetball happening in my body, so that may not be the case.

So please, keep an understanding mind if you see me throwing cheese.

Coming Soon: Baby Bautista!

You read that right! Drew and I are adding to our little family. Max will be joined by Baby Bautista next February, and that means a lot of changes in our household and of course, in me!

I found out I was expecting shortly before our second anniversary, so I thought to myself, “what better way to tell Drew?” Here’s how he found out:

After our wonderful anniversary dinner, we set out to buy a copy of “What to Expect When You’re Expecting,” so that we could read up on the months ahead. For me, pregnancy meant making some major adjustments. I didn’t want to do anything halfway, so anything in or on my body that could potentially have a negative effect on the that little one now sharing this space, I gave up. Here are just a few things from that long list:

-Alcohol

-caffeine (yes, coffee AND soda)

-Sushi

-Feta, Brie and Goat cheese

-Rollercoasters

-Saunas

-Bumper cars

-Any and all skin products with harmful chemicals (Which included my entire collection of facial cleansers and anti-wrinkle products)

-Any and all crazy death-defying activities like bungee-jumping or sky-diving

The good news is, pregnancy isn’t all sacrifice. There are many symptoms that most women experience either during the first trimester or their whole duration. Some of those symptoms are like superhuman powers! Here are my new superpowers:

– superhuman sense of smell

– super-efficient kidneys

– super fast growing hair and nails

– super ability to nap through anything

I realize these are the absolute lamest superpowers of all time, but I’m still trying to think of a good superhero name to go along with these powers. All I could think of so far is “The Amazing Potty-Dancing Narcoleptic.” Suggestions are encouraged.

In addition to the powers, I acquired a few weaknesses. That includes a constant fatigue, on and off nausea and food aversions to- at one point it seemed like everything. I originally intended to eat a healthy, all-natural organic diet of mostly fruits and vegetables. Those intentions quickly turned into eating whatever didn’t trigger nausea upon sight or smell. For about a month, my diet consisted of Ritz crackers, toast, gingerale, and then tacos. Lots of tacos. For some reason I will eat anything as long as it’s in taco form.

Another staple in my diet is popsicles. Every pregnancy comes with its own challenges, and like many situations, Arizona presents a particular challenge in this case. Most doctors and books will tell you not to submerge your body into temperatures that are above 101 degrees. This means no hot tubs or saunas. But what if you live in a sauna? It’s August in Arizona. Nine weeks into my pregnancy it was 118 degrees outside and hadn’t rained for 4 months. Just getting into my car to drive to lunch knocked the wind out of me and brought the morning’s lovely nausea back in full force. Staying hydrated and staying cool posed a problem. My solution: pineapple popsicles. As the long Summer continues, you may want to invest in Dole, because those icy treats are succeeding in keeping me below my boiling point, and providing a delicious healthy dose of fruit for me and this little one:

Needless to say, from this day forward, Our Life in A-Z will revolve around the little one we love so much and can’t wait to meet. In true future-mom-blog fashion, here are the monthly photos so far:

No, not much has changed on the outside. But trust me if you ask my lovely husband who recently drove through two restaurants just to get me what I wanted for dinner- he can verify. I’m pregnant.

Playing with Fire

It’s become an Independence Day tradition. This year, Drew and I celebrated the 4th of July with a cookout and lots of swimming at his sister’s house, and continued a holiday tradition that is most likely the result of putting too many photography nerds in one place. For a few years now, we’ve been painting with fire.

My 4-year-old nephew joins in the fun as we set up a camera with a manually-controlled shutter and light the sparklers. Every year, we try to come up with new designs or creative ways to play with light. Writing is especially difficult, because it has to be a mirror image and in cursive. It’s always fun to see how the photos turn out after a first attempt. Here is an example of an end result:

Because of the risk of wildfires, consumer fireworks are only legal in Gilbert about 4 days out of year, (New Year’s Eve and 4th of July weekend) so we have to take advantage while we can. It was another 4th of July spent drawing with sparklers and catching a glimpse of the big fireworks show over the rooftops of the neighborhood, filled with good food and surrounded by family.

Sled Vs. Blocks of Ice: An AZ Childhood Experience

Every now and then when I speak to an Arizona native, I find myself in foreign territory when it comes to childhood experiences. I spent my winters sledding in the backyard, my summers catching fireflies or going to the beach. For a child growing up in the desert, life can be a little different. There aren’t many fireflies around here, and the closest beaches are across the Mexican border. It’s a far contrast from the Jersey Shore and the boardwalk I came to know so well. During a recent conversation, the Arizonans referenced something I’d never heard of before as if it were a universal childhood activity: Ice-Blocking.

What is ice-blocking?

To me, it appears to be a sad excuse for a sledding experience, only it’s done in the summer. Take a block of ice, find a hill, and commence. Here’s a pretty accurate example:

http://youtube.googleapis.com/v/YOBd-uk49Vk&source=uds

Prior to this conversation, I didn’t even know one could actually purchase a big block of ice aside from maybe an ice sculptor who I just assumed bought their supply online or something. I’d honestly never thought to look into it before, but apparently they’re available at any regular convenience store. I guess I missed that section? I know they sold bags of ice, but I swear I’ve never seen it come in large blocks.

Just as I was contemplating giving this experience a try, I found out the activity is now banned. I guess the authorities didn’t think careening downhill on a slippery, rapidly-melting mode of transportation was the safest idea for kids. Either way, I think I’d rather go sledding.

The Good, the Bad, and the Weird

Arizona is home to some of the most beautiful scenery I’ve ever seen, some of the most controversial problems in the country, and some of the… well just plain weirdest stuff I’ve encountered. And I lived in the Florida Panhandle for three years.

Just a couple hours North of Phoenix, Sedona Arizona is a hub for both the beautiful and weird. People flock from all over the world to gaze at the spectacular red rock formations, gain spiritual clarity, and if they’re like me, indulge in a little curiosity.

A couple of weeks ago, I had the pleasure of visiting Sedona with my dad and stepmom. We enjoyed the crystal shops, psychic signs and vortex tour brochures just as much as the famous rocks themselves. I see myself as a very scientific person, but I think it’s fun to step out of your comfort zone every once in a while, read up on vortexes, and take a slight detour to a “UFO Center” that actually turned out to be a creepy purple trailer next to a creek that I swear must have been featured in the beginning of an episode of Bones.

It’s the off-beat characters, stories and places that are my favorite things about living in the desert. Where else can you find this many UFO sightings, or chupacabra believers? Even the plants look like they’re out of a Dr. Suess book.

The highlight of our trip was a Pink Jeep Tour that took us up close and personal to the rocks. We even got to see an old sinkhole that’s now home to hundreds of bats. It was a bumpy ride (extremely bumpy!) but worth it. Definitely a trip to remember.

Conquering the Kitchen

Anyone who knows me knows how much I love food. Drew and I love trying new restaurants, recipes, and have even gotten hooked on a few cooking competition shows (cupcake wars, top chef, chopped, the taste,) just a few….
The Phoenix area is actually a great city for foodies, with more than a handful of restaurants that have been featured on The Food Network, and even more undiscovered gems we’ve had the pleasure of dining in recently.
One place I feel I’ve never reached my full food-appreciating potential has been my own kitchen. It’s something I’ve been trying to change. That road, however, is long and winding. There have been ups and downs, and some epic fails.
Those of you who know me well may remember the forgotten-water-in-the-brownies blunder of ’05, or the sea-salt-attempted-brownie bungle of ’11. You also may have seen the cupcake massacre of 2012:

This little doozy contributed to the subsequent oven fire of 2012.
While I haven’t had many proud moments in the past, I can at least say I’m not completely alone. Drew has proven himself to be a spectacular cook on a regular basis, but every once in a while he throws me a bone and comes up with a mess to rival even my most embarrassing culinary disasters. There was the Chipotle-rice-replication attempt that was…. let’s just say lime-tastic. More recently, there was our first attempt at utilizing a slow cooker for beef stroganoff:

Luckily we live so close to family that we knew just who to call, just in time for dinner. It’s hard to believe I actually tried …whatever this is… and managed to keep a straight face until Drew spit his out, giving me the okay to do the same. To his credit, we discovered it was actually the appliance at fault, and after purchasing a new crock pot he redeemed his recipe and his reputation. I can vouch, it was delicious.
My adventures may be doomed to continue on a roller coaster, but I am proud to say I came up with a healthy and successful meal just this week after a recent decision to maintain a healthier lifestyle (a.k.a trying to reduce my sugar intake to something below 75% of my diet.)
This is a broiled salmon-steak in a honey sauce with a side of mashed cauliflower. Yes, that’s right! And, it’s a great substitute for mashed potatoes. I made a pretty big mess, but it was worth it.

From Spring to Summer in a Day

It seems like Arizona really only has two seasons: Cold, and hot. One of those seasons is much longer than the other. This week, our high temperatures graced the 70’s and 80’s, and then settled into the 90’s. The flowers are blooming and the plants are turning a temporary shade of green so I guess we could call this Spring, but I think the rest of the country has a different word for it.
Nonetheless, this time of year is when the weather just begs you to get outside. It inspired Drew to buy a remote-control boat for the pond near our house, and last weekend we all met at the park to play with that boat and with Max of course. He is adjusting very well to his new home, and he is feeling 100% after getting over an ear infection and kennel cough. While he doesn’t show very much interest in toys and he’s a wallflower at the dog park, we’re working on some new tricks:

Max is also great at running. He (and I) have been running about 2 miles every other day around the canal and pond near our house. It’s a great way to get him out and about to exercise, and to take advantage of this great weather. While it lasts.

Meet Max

After about six months living in our new place, Drew and I decided it was time for an addition. This Valentine’s Day, I received a bouquet of flowers and box of chocolate, along with a stuffed Snoopy and a Snoopy valentine’s card in which Drew wrote, “ready to get your own Snoopy?” Last weekend we went to the animal shelter to pick out the scruffiest, cutest homeless doggie we could find. His name was A3264205. We thought “Max” would be easier to remember. He’s a 4-year-old schnauzer terrier mix who weighs about 25 lbs. Max’s history is unknown, so we’re still learning about his personality, but one thing is for sure: he loves to cuddle! He snuggles up on the couch to watch TV, and he was great around the niece and nephew. Max isn’t a big fan of dog food or dog treats or even dog toys, but we recently found out he loves all kinds of cheese. We’ll have to use that sparingly as it’s not the healthiest treat for training. I’m sure with a little guidance and love he’ll learn how to be a dog.

He’s already proven himself to be a little Houdini. On his first day home, I put up his dog fence to partition him into a section of the house, and I left classical music on the TV to keep him calm while I ran to the store to get groceries. When I got home, he greeted me at the door. His dog gate was still locked and the TV channel had been changed to a PBS documentary. In addition to disliking classical music, we also discovered on his walk this evening that he strongly dislikes skateboards.

Max seems to be adjusting just fine to his new home, his new family, and his new name.

Road Trip

One thing I love about living in Arizona is the opportunity for a great road trip. Phoenix may sit in the middle of the desert surrounded by a whole lot of nothing, but that nothing can look beautiful in the passenger-side window, driving to one of the many destinations within a day’s reach.
Last weekend, our friends flew into Phoenix from Jackson, Mississippi and we hopped in the Prius and headed to Vegas! I love driving a route I’ve never traveled, seeing all of the beauty this country has to offer, and indulging in any spontaneous side-trip. We drove through Joshua Trees, enormous red rocks and plateaus, and stopped at the Hoover Dam to take a full tour. Our tour came complete with an eccentric guide who didn’t fall short when it came to inserting some dam jokes into every opportunity. Neither did I.

Then, we arrived at our destination… Las Vegas! And, well, I guess that’s all the detail I’ll divulge, because you know what they say.
I will note that Drew and I did not lose as much as we had last September during our first trip, mostly because I did far less gambling. Just call me the cooler.

Our road back was just as eventful, as we stopped on the side of the road for an overlook and saw a river at the bottom. We decided to drive down to the water, and on the way we encountered a herd of big-horn sheep by the side of the winding road. When everyone in the car started gasping, I was the last to notice. They stood and stared at us as we parked and stared at them. I’d never seen anything like it outside of a zoo. Then, they went on their way up a hill and we continued down to the water to catch the sunset. That’s why I love road trips. It’s those unexpected moments when you follow a trail or climb a rock or chase a river, only to see something you may have never seen before in your life. I’ll end with one final photo we took after getting back to Phoenix, taken at Papago Park overlooking the city.

Cold Snap

Okay, it’s that time of year when we thin-blooded Arizonans get laughed at by our Northern counter-parts. Because IT. IS. COLD.

I know this may not seem like a wintery high temp to most people, but look at those lows! It still amazes me that the temperature can change nearly 30 degrees from sun up to sun down. Despite my D.C upbringing the sundowns are killing me. But, if I think I’m unmotivated to get out from underneath my covers in the morning and brave the crisp, cold air of day, I need only look to my poor, Florida-born husband, who has been sleeping in long sleeves and a hoodie for the past week.

We have packed our outdoor pipes with towels so they won’t burst (which they often do around here because the desert just doesn’t have the infastructure for freezing weather) and our neighbors have bundled up their cacti for the season.

It may be easy to laugh. I know 25 degrees is nothing compared to the negative-somethings that so many other people must bear. It may be easy to call us wimps, to tell us to toughen up, and in times like these it’s all we hear from the rest of the country, but to that I respond:

I go running in triple digits.

Give me 75 degrees and I’ll wear jeans and drink a hot latte. When it’s 106 we’re outside hiking and playing sports when most would pass out. Yes, we wear camel-backs and drink 2 liters to most people’s 12 ounces of water, and lather on SPF 80, but I’ll take all of that any day over this. Brr!