First of all, I would like to say "hah" to all those Chinese folks whose kids can eat rice with chopsticks. Last night, Quinn managed to eat rice with a single toothpick. Strange child, I know. But at least I got him to eat rice! It was only the second time he's gladly eaten it. The first was last week in Tallahassee when he ate basmati rice at an Indian restaurant (which was fantastic!). Last night, he ate brown rice, so at least he's getting some whole grains. He used to eat tons of whole grains, but then he turned 2.
Speaking of Tallahassee, our trip was great, but too short. Quinn charmed his Auntie Trish and Uncle Wade, of course, and was in turn spoiled rotten. Big surprise. Here's a link to the pictures Trish took. Quinn sang along to Uncle Wade and Daddy playing Guitar Hero, and then he told them, "You guys rock!" He also behaved like a little punk at most of his meals, too busy showing off and messing around for his "audience." Every time we left Trish and Wade, he would ask, "Where Uncle Wade and Auntie Trish goes? Find it anywhere?" That's his new thing. "Find it anywhere?" And he puts his hands palm up out to the side and cocks his head. It's hysterical. He also spent a lot of time singing his songs: the ABC song; Twinkle Twinkle Little Star; You Are My Sunshine; and the theme song to "Wonder Pets."
The day after we got back, we had to take our first baby class at the hospital, which was actually a tour and orientation of the OB floor. It was interesting to find out what they offer: baby Lojack (an alarm system that shuts down the floor if the baby gets too close to elevators or stairwells), massages for new mommies, and mom and baby rooms (for post-delivery) that are about four times as big as the one we were in with Quinn. Woo Hoo! I don't know if we'll take a Lamaze refresher course or their class called "Meet the Doulas." We'll see if we can fit them in.
Tonight is the manager Christmas party for the Marriott, so I'm trying to get ready for that as well. I found some fairly low-heeled shoes that I can fit my swollen feet into, but it was quite amusing even to me how contorted I had to get to paint my own toenails. I still need to put together some sparkly bling to distract from the fact that I'm wearing boring old maternity clothes and nothing fancy. Time to meet the bigwigs and their wives. (Not trying to be sexist, but it just so happens all of the bigwigs are male there.) Too bad I'll have to be sober. Oh well, I'm getting used to it now. But as the temps dip into the low 30s, I sure am craving a hot buttered chocolate (thanks Kaminsky's for turning me onto the blissful combo of hot chocolote and butterscotch schnapps).
I had to see a male OB yesterday instead of my female doctor. We have to struggle to find someone to watch Quinn just so Jalal can join me at some of my appointments (thank you, H1N1 scare), and when we get there, the receptionist says the doctor is doing an emergency C-section but we can come back in an hour. WTH? I know it happens, and I don't blame them, but this is really frustrating. I had to reschedule last month because we were running 10 minutes late, so that meant turning around and driving from Greenville back to Simpsonville again to pick up Quinn. Then I still had to go by myself. It's so frustrating. Anyway, I asked if I could just see someone else, and so I met one of the male docs. He was nice, and I figure you never know who'll be delivering the baby, so best meet them ahead of time.
Anyway, I better get back to work and nail polish. Duty calls! Love, Us.
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