What's that about?

I think I'm some kind of deranged lunatic. At least I am if you judge me by my dreams. Maybe it's just the pregnancy producing some strange hormones while I sleep (some would contest that being pregnant is lunacy of its own). Sometimes I have anxiety dreams that I give birth to the alien or something.



Other times I dream that I'm saying exactly what I think of everyone's comments.


Other person: Maybe you should take a prenatal yoga class so you don't gain too much weight.

Me: Hmm, sounds interesting. I'll get right on that.

Other person: Yeah, I've heard it really helps you stay toned, makes the birth easier.

Me: Great. While I go do that, would you mind carrying around this basketball for me for the next 7 months? Oh yeah, and don't forget to clean it off after you push it through your obviously sizeable ass.


Then there's the combo pissed off/anxiety driven dream where I'm saving my babies from the gestapo or some such. I hate everyone, can't trust them, have to physically exert myself constantly (my true nightmare) and can never sleep (the ultimate torture).

Maybe it's just the acid reflux.

A stroll along the promenade

This weekend, we relieved our own suffocation at home by getting some fresh air at my in-laws in Coney Island. While my husband and mother-in-law took my reluctant little swimmer to the wading pool, I took a walk down Surf Avenue. I was wearing a maternity tube top (this should be an oxymoron) and, what I later discovered was, a see-through skirt. Fortunately for me, the annual Mermaid Parade was going on so the gawkers lined up along the road couldn't care less about a slightly wobbly, glaringly white, elastic clad mommy. I certainly didn't care since I was on the hunt for mint ice cream.

If you look closely, you'll see why this parade is a good precursor to the Pride Parade which happened one day after in Manhattan. What amazed me is that there seemed to be a lot of the usual parade-going daddies with babies on their shoulders. What fun, little Tommy!

Argh

I had to start including pictures, so I decided this would be an appropriate start.

Ah the good old days

A member of my ever burgeoning household rented, "The Last of the Mohicans" and we watched it last night. I'm not one for cheesy pseudo-epics very loosely interpreted from great classic novels. They usually don't fail to disappoint. This one wasn't a great one, for sure. The one thing that did strike me was the brutality with which the "bad" Indians were hacking up the British and the "good" Indians.

It's truly horrifying to imagine being hacked up by a tomahawk, stabbed several times and then scalped, all while still alive and bleeding a slow death. Guns are certainly more merciful than that, right?

Our universal reaction of disgust spurred a discussion about how life is so much easier these days. In some ways, true. But I have to say that people back then would probably find it dizzyingly complicated to live in our contemporary world. I know I do. I think we all need a nap.