Remembering

I once had a psychology professor at UW-Whitewater, Dr. Paula Poorman (who was unfortunately killed in a car accident by a drug addict) who told students, on the first day of class in Abnormal Psychology, to "go out and do something abnormal." "You have fifteen minutes."

I went out, found a classroom, built up courage for about 10 minutes, burst into the classroom, and said, "Welcome to Whitewater! Have a great semester!" The professor muttered, "can I help you?" before I said anything. After I addressed the audience, I promptly turned around and left. The professor was dumbfounded, and the class laughed. One guy said, "You too!"

Another person ran around with his shirt off, in his hand, waving it around and yelling. Someone else stood in front of doors to a building and, when asked why, said, "no reason." A few people followed strangers around. One stranger stopped and asked, "would you like to walk with me?" Another stranger was completely freaked out. I think another person randomly shouted at random strangers as he walked through the center of campus. Fun!

Assignment: In honor of Dr. Poorman, do something that may be considered abnormal. Be safe and respectful. Do it again or figure out something else. Have fun! Push your limits, but safely and respectfully. You have the rest of your life to complete this project.

We Haz an Us

Here's a cute picture.



We had posted this on Facebook a while ago, but we wanted to post it here too.

Here's another one, too.



Both pictures are from icanhascheezburger.com.

Why I Love Him

As our wedding approaches and I look longingly at the decorations sitting in a growing pile on the living room floor, I am inspired to write. Not about the wedding or the baby, but about the man I am marrying. Daily I am reminded of how lucky I am to have such a wonderful man in my life. And I am inspired to share some of his wonderfulness. So here are couple of the reasons (and these are just a very brief sampling) why I love Chris.

1) He wants me to be safe.
It was late one night, just after we started dating. We were curled up in bed. He turns to me and in his most serious sweet tone says "Kyra, can I ask you something?" I was already half asleep (his arms are like a sedative for me). I mumbled some thing like, "Yeah, what babe?" "Do you feel safe?" he asked. I woke up a bit and looked at him (or looked at him as best I could in the dark). "Yeah babe, of course, why?" "Just wanted to make sure." The reason he asked was rather obvious: I had just gotten out of a controlling and rather abusive relationship. The guy I was with convinced me that nothing I did was right, from the clothes I wore to the things I said. And every mistake I made was evidence of my crucial character flaws. By the end when it escalated to physical violence, I was terrified not only of him but of myself, terrified of how "wrong" I was.

When I started dating Chris, I apologized for everything: spilling food on the counter, dropping books, misusing a word, convinced that like my ex he would explode at every little thing. It took some time for me to accept that he didn't see me like that, that he saw more of what was right with me that what was wrong, and could forgive my occasional klutziness or lack of eloquence. He wanted me to know that I was safe to be myself around him, and that it was me, as I was, that he was in love with, would always be in love with. And though I have regained much of my confidence, he still asks me from time to time, in those moments when I feel most unsure of myself. And I do feel safe with him, safe to make mistakes, safe to be myself, safe to love and be loved.

2) He supports me.
One day while randomly searching on craigslist, shortly after finding out I was pregnant, Chris found a post that read, "Lead teacher wanted for bilingual Chinese/English preschool in Madison." I was elated when I read the post and inquired immediately. Finally, something in my field to get me out of the mindless desk job I had been working to pay the bills since graduation. I got a response and an interview almost immediately, after which I was offered the position. There was a catch, several actually: 1) for the first three months this job would be a pay cut from the already abysmal salary at my current job, and 2) there was no health care. When I told Chris, as my future husband, he had every right to say, "What? Are you nuts? You have a college degree and you want to take a job with pay like that? And no health care? You're pregnant! What on earth are you thinking? No way!" But he didn't. He took my hand, looked me straight in the eye and said, "I know this is really what you want to do. It's important to you. We'll find a way to make it work."

Can't help lovin' that man o' mine.

These are only two of a long long list, but as I said, I felt inspired. Chris has that effect on me. What can I say, I love him.

My Mother, The Sewing Queen

I bow to my mothers superior sewing skills. She is the queen of seamstressing. She has taken a sixty year old dress made out of parachutes silk, made by my great-grandmother, worn by my grandmother and my mother herself for their wedding, which smelled of rotting lace and moth balls when we found it, and resurrected it to fulfill my wish of wearing it at my wedding. I proudly posts the fruits of her labor.



And I don't care if I'm ruining the surprise by posting the dress (and is will look even better when its done so...). I think everyone should see how awesome my mom is. All hail the queen.

Week Seventeen: Getting My Kicks

This week the baby is 3.5 oz, about the size of a hand spread open. I realized its been a while since I posted a picture of what the baby "looks like" (mainly because the week to week changes weren't very dramatic or interesting) but I thought I would so this week. See below:

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The baby has doubled in weight over the past two weeks, and is looking more and more human and less alienish as time goes on, mainly related to the fat it's beginning to accumulate.

This week as I was laying in bed one night, I felt a little poke in my lower abdomen. I had been anxiously awaiting the baby's first kick, so at first I thought I might be imagining things. But the poke came again, a few seconds later, and in the very same place. Since then I have felt the baby kick while reading to my kids and while singing to Evanescence (apparently our baby will be a hard rocker). I don't feel it every day, and its not very frequent or prolonged, all of which is normal at this early stage.

All goes well with me at this point. My hips are doing much better, energy is up, and other than the occasional "the baby is squishing my intestines" feeling, I am pretty comfortable. I have gained about ten pounds since the beginning of the pregnancy, which is on track with where I should be (I think).

P.S. Walking around with an extra 10lbs is hard!