Our New Baby Girl!

by Ruth
As many of you have probably heard from email, facebook, or excited friends and family, our newest little family member has arrived!

Juliana (ju-li-ah-na) Grace
Born Sunday, September 19
6lb 13oz, 19.75in

She is absolutely beautiful.  Of course I would think that because she is my baby, but really, she is surprisingly beautiful.  I would think she was beautiful even if I didn't know her.  Everyone says she's beautiful (of course they would say that anyway, but they're actually telling the truth).  We're not sure if she looks more like mommy or daddy (One friend said, "I'm not sure who she looks like. Would you mind putting a beard on her and taking a few more shots?").  She seems to have Kevin's nose, a little cleft chin, and lots of hair.  Other than the cleft, her chin looks more like mine, and she definitely has my super long fingers (she has already shown some interest in the harp, so maybe she's got a musical future).  All in all, she seems to have gotten a combination of our best characteristics, because while I'm not saying we don't look incredibly attractive ourselves, she has definitely got us beat.

The labor ended up being pretty difficult.  It was about 15.5 hours, which I guess is about average for the first time.  The first part wasn't bad.  I mean, I wouldn't want to do it every day, but it was definitely manageable.  The breathing and relaxation practice from our childbirth classes really came in handy.  Things got substantially more difficult though because the baby turned to the face up position, putting her full force on my back (ouch!) and got stuck.  Then she turned and got stuck with her head twisted around to the side.  The general gist is lots of pain and no progress.  I hadn't wanted an epidural, but at this point I was feeling like I couldn't keep it up.  I was on a preparatory IV with the anesthesiologist on the way when the midwife checked me once more and said, "I don't think you want this epidural - you're ready to push!"  After just about 40 minutes of pushing, Juliana was born and immediately started yelling at the world.  A bunch of doctors and nurses were waiting to check her out, since they had a few concerns, but she was perfectly healthy.

In the middle of the worst part, I just wanted to get this baby out, however it ended up happening.  It would have been fine if I had had a epidural - I wouldn't feel like any less of a person, or whatever.  But I'm glad I was able to do it without one.  It's kind of neat to look back and see that I was able to survive and go on for much longer than I thought I could.  It was terrible in some ways...but at the same time I'm really glad I experienced it.  And of course, it was worth it!

I definitely wouldn't have been able to do it without a lot of awesome support.  Kevin was really actively involved in the whole thing.  He spent hours in all manner of incredibly uncomfortable positions so he could be there to put pressure on my back, help me to relax, guide me in breathing through contractions, and tell me I was doing great.  It's strange how an experience that was so difficult (and not exactly something I'd like to repeat anytime soon) was also so meaningful.  I thought (not at the time -when I wasn't thinking much of anything- but later), surely this is the essence of marriage.  Connected, laboring together (literally), breathing together even, profound pain matched with unbelievable reward. 

My cousin, who gave birth almost exactly a year ago, was also the most incredible support a person could get.  I don't think she woke up that morning thinking, "Maybe I'll help bring a baby into the world," but that's what she did.  She stayed right beside me during all the difficult hours, holding my hand, feeding me ice chips, reminding me to breathe, assuring me I could do it.  I know that without having her and Kevin there as such constant support, I would have given out long beforehand.  I told her she should consider an alternate career as a doula because I think it would be hard to find a better one.

My midwife, who I really loved, was out of town, but a different midwife was there, and she was also great.  She was very supportive and knew what she was doing.  She kept trying different things to get the baby to turn and for the labor to progress, rather than just insisting on a c-section.    She quasi-tricked me into persevering (a lot of "Just five more minutes, you can do it for five more minutes"...with each 5 minutes turning into 20) and tried to postpone the epidural as much as possible - but she also didn't try to prevent me from getting it.  She gave the firm encouragement that I needed, completely confident that I could make it when I was just about sure that I couldn't.

Juliana had to spend an extra night in the hospital because of elevated bilirubin levels.  She had to be on a little 'grow light' all the time except when feeding.  She wasn't a big fan, and it was hard to not be able to hold her at all, but now her levels have dropped, her coloring is improving a lot, and she is getting all the holding and snuggling that she first missed out on.  The jaundice just makes her super sleepy.  She sleeps all the time (which might make many people with new babies quite jealous!), so she's had a hard time with nursing, but that's been getting better as well.

I look at her sometimes and just can't believe she's really mine.  She's so perfect!  I love those few times a day when she actually opens her eyes and looks around.  I always think she can't get any cuter and then she does.  I love when she snuggles up next to me and gets all calm because she knows who I am.  I don't really love the lack of sleep, but I'm surprised by how how happy I can still be (with the possible exception of 2am when she's screaming bloody murder) even when I'm too tired to quite see straight.  When I get worn down by the tiredness and discomfort and what feels like constant feedings, she opens her eyes or yawns a huge yawn or makes her little squeaky noises, and I remember that my life is simply amazing!

The Waiting Place

by Ruth

So far as I know, nobody has ever been eternally pregnant.  Eventually, one way or another, the baby always comes out.  But I bet that most pregnant woman, by the time they get to those last weeks, have the sneaking suspicion they are going to be the first to break the rule. 

About 6 times a day I am convinced that Ruvina is just not going to be born.  She seems to be totally content with her living quarters, just hanging out and experimenting with the power of her muscles and newly ossified bones on my insides.  A few months ago I pictured her as a tiny superhero, ready to burst out with fist in the air.  Now I picture her lounging back, thumb in mouth, thinking, "Why spoil a good thing?  I think this whole birth deal is overrated."  She's never coming out!

And it's still a week till the due date!  Imagine how I will feel if I'm still sitting here just as pregnant in another week or even--the HORROR--two weeks.

All this waiting.

It's like being engaged.  I didn't like that very much either - I just wanted to get on with it and get married.  But at least I knew when it was going to happen.  There was no, "maybe it will happen tomorrow...maybe in a couple more weeks."

It's like sitting in the airport waiting for a flight that keeps being delayed.  You're just waiting.  Watching the board.  Listening for another announcement.  They can't come out and tell you, "We're sorry, this flight will be delayed 5 hours."  Instead it's 15 minutes and another 15 minutes, each time giving you a false hope that maybe this time we'll actually get on the plane.

Do you get the sense I'm feeling impatient?

RUVINA...I just want to meet you.  Everyone wants to meet you.  You will be a star.  We will dress you in soft, cute clothes.  You will have plenty of room to kick around, but we can wrap you up tight if that would make you feel more at home, too.  We'll take care of you and be really, really nice to you.  It's not a bad world out here.  Don't you want to give it a try?  (Today is an awfully nice looking day, by the way.)

Blog Recommendation

by Ruth

I am excited because this year, some of my good friends from college have started teaching in China!  Chip spent one year in China just after graduating, but this is Mallary's first time.  They aren't exactly close to us but if you live in China, just having someone in the same country is a good deal, even if they are an overnight train ride away.

Chip and Mallary have started a blog, and I thought you might want to check it out.  So far they have been updating it very regularly as they get settled in.  Chip also includes some interesting little facts and news about China.  The things they share will probably have a lot of similarities to our lives as well, since they're doing very similar things, just at a different school.

In the next few months I'm guessing our lives will get pretty busy, and we might not be updating quite as regularly.  So if you want to supplement your blog reading (say, you like to read blogs when you are procrastinating), I would suggest you check theirs out!

Still Here

By Ruth
All the other teachers have returned to China.  Our teammates are back in Weinan, our students are starting back to classes, and it's already almost September!  It's a bit strange to know I'll still be in America for another two months!  We're not used to being around when the summer is ending.  I know it doesn't officially end yet, but I am seeing the first signs that fall is approaching.  School buses are back in route.  The weather has actually been almost cool (meaning not unbearably hot) these past days.  And I have seen two flocks of Canadian geese.  Neither of them were in a hurry to get anywhere.  One flock was leisurely strolling single-file across a parking lot.  So I haven't yet heard the pleasant honking sounds as they fly overhead, something I have really missed in past years, but all of this is a sign of things to come.  By the end of October, when I finally do return to China, fall really will be here!  If I'm awake enough to notice.

I have gotten several sweet/funny emails from students expressing their excitement about the coming baby and wondering when we'll be coming back.  I told one student about how we had received so many baby gifts, and she responded with, "I'm so excited that your baby has become wealthy!"  I can't email students too often though, because they continually remind me that using the computer is bad when you are pregnant.  I don't want to worry them needlessly.

In other news...yeah, there really isn't any other news.  But we'll keep you posted...

The Summer of the Flood

By Kevin

All summer long, flooding has ravaged the world. Within the last couple weeks alone, thousands have died and millions people have been displaced in places like Pakistan, central China (including Sichuan, Gansu and Weinan) and northeast China and North Korea (along the Yalu River very close to Tonghua, where I used to live). Floodings apparently followed us home this summer.

As troubling as those floods are, this story isn't about the kind of real life-threatening floods that kill people and ruin lives. This is about the kind of floods that comes from pipes. More of an inconvenience than anything.

Four times in the last few months, we've had to deal with our own floods. Call it the Summer of the Flood.

Flood #1:

It all started in China. As you may remember, Ruth posted about me waking up in the middle of the night wet because water was dripping from the ceiling onto my bed. We were afraid there was a huge water leak, but we discovered that it was due to a leaky hose on Christina's washing machine, which had been pouring water into her laundry porch, then seeping into the floorboards right above our ceiling and percolating down through cracks in our ceiling. Thankfully it was an easy fix and as soon as she replaced the hose, the dripping went away.

Apparently the water troubles followed us home this summer: three times in the last three weeks, we've spent hours trying to get water out of the basement here in Georiga.

Flood #2:

First, the washing machine flooded. Anna had gone down to move her laundry into the dryer and came rushing back upstairs shouting, "the basement is flooded!" The water was a couple inches deep in places, and covered about one-third of the basement floor, but we were able to get it all out with a few hours of sweeping, squeegeeing and Shop-Vacking the soapy floors. When Ruth's Dad got home from work, he figured out what had happened: Apparently a mouse had chewed its way through a plastic hose, making the washing machine unable to shut itself off. He fixed the hose, so we figured that the problem would go away. It didn't.

Flood #3:

A few days later, the washer flooded again. Apparently mice like to eat plastic hoses. I recalled my Honda Civic, which I just sold last month right as we were leaving California (thank you Craigslist). While we were away in China, mice had eaten through the plastic windshield wiper fluid container, prompting my Dad to leave rat poison in a tray under the hood, next to the replacement. This Georgia mouse ate through his second hose in less than a week.

Thankfully, we'd honed the cleanup process a bit, and since most of the boxes in the garage were still displaced from the previous flood, we got the majority of the water out within an hour or so. Washing machine hoses have been replaced with something more indestructible, but a washing machine watch has come into effect any time a load of laundry needs to be done. An exterminator came and trapped the culprits. Ruth's parents decided now's the time to buy a new washing machine. Ruth's mother and sister even went and rescued a cat from a couple on Craigslist looking for a good home for their pet (the local animal shelter apparently only had two waiting for homes, so they branched out) hoping to keep the mice away. If only she'd leave the friendly confines of the carpeted upstairs climb downstairs onto the slippery hardwood floors once in a while, she might drive away the mice. Then again, she might see a mouse and get so frightened that she'd dart right back upstairs. She's still a bit jumpy.

Flood #4:

The fourth incident came last night. It was late and I couldn't sleep. So, after an hour of tossing and turning, somewhere around 1 a.m., I decided to go into the other room to read a bit. The refrigerator was making some strange sounds, but I figured that it was just the ice maker, since it sometimes emits some strange groans and Ruth's Dad had just fixed a problem with it last week.

An hour later, when I figured I was finally tired enough to get some sleep, I made my way through the kitchen and found myself sloshing through water. I rushed and turned on the light. Water was seeping out from under the fridge. A huge puddle had formed in front of it. I didn't want to wake everyone else, so I grabbed some towels and sopped up the mess so the hardwood floors wouldn't be ruined. Then I realized that water was still coming out. I rushed down to the basement, looking for a shutoff valve to turn off the water (keep in mind, this is Ruth's parent's home, so I don't know where these valves are).

Flipping on the light and turning the corner, I couldn't believe my eyes.

The floor was flooded. Again. I stared in dismay. Water was seeping through the ceiling. At least this time the washing machine wasn't the culprit.

I woke up Ruth and she awakened her parents. We repeated the same process as with the washing machine in hopes of saving the basement from mold damage. Thankfully, the water was only an inch deep and limited thus far to about a quarter of the basement, but it was the same part as had flooded before. We realized that water was seeping into the fuse box, so we turned off the power to that section of the basement so we wouldn't get electrocuted. Ruth's father sopped out the water and covered it. We set to work on moving work benches, covering tools and squeegeeing the water out. Candy kept saying, "You're never going to want to come home again."

By 3:30 a.m., we had turned on the dehumidifier (something I never would have dreamed of, coming from dry Southern California, where we use swamp coolers to ADD humidity to the air), dried up the rest of the water under the fridge, and gone back to bed.

For the first time I can remember, it was a blessing that I couldn't sleep. I can't imagine how flooded the basement would have been in the morning otherwise, considering this was probably less than an hour's worth of flooding. But now we can't help but wonder, when will it happen again? What other appliance will fall apart and flood the basement? It's gotten to the point where, when Ruth's Mom calls home, she starts by asking, "Has anything else gone wrong?"

Waiting for Baby

by Ruth
I've heard that women often experience a burst of "nesting" energy shortly before going into labor when they suddenly feel motivated to get everything organized.  Clearly I am not about to go into labor.

It's a shame that pregnancy is such a non-productive time because right now I have more free time than I probably will in the next 20 years.  I still have another five weeks until baby is due, and basically I'm just hanging around waiting.  I'm not exactly complaining about having nothing to do.  If there is ever a time in my life when I am content to sit around doing nothing all day, this is probably it.  And I have things I could do.  I have some nice little to-do lists made up. Sometimes I contemplate actually doing something from the list.  And then I take a nap.

So what have we been doing in these past weeks of waiting?

Well, I have just entered the weekly doctor visit phase, and boy I'm glad to not be traveling 12 hrs to get there!  Actually, my "doctor" is a midwife, and I just love her!  Many people are confused because they think midwife=home birth, but this is not necessarily the case.

Statistical interlude: The percentage of home births in the US has remained at less than 1% while the percentage of midwife attended births had increased  (statistics vary on this, maybe somewhere around 4-8% of US births are midwife attended).  Interestingly, according to WHO, about 75% of European births are attended by midwives.  All countries with lower "perinatal" mortality rates than the US, I might add.

In my case, I have a certified-nurse midwife who works in a hospital.  I can't say I honestly did a bunch of research and after thoughtful deliberation I decided this was the best choice.  I did what I have done for most of my pregnancy and childbirth related decisions: I copied my cousin. :)  She just had a baby last year and highly recommended this midwife and hospital.  And since I wasn't getting here until 3/4 of the way through my pregnancy, having a good recommendation seemed like the way to go.

But now that I have met with this midwife several times, I am so glad I "happened" upon this choice.  I saw 5 different doctors in Thailand, China, and California over the course of the pregnancy, none of whom were bad, but when I finally met with my midwife here I thought, "She's amazing!"  Here are the reasons why I love her:
1. She actually spends time with you instead of rushing in and rushing out.
2. She takes time to answer questions and explains things.
3. She doesn't make me feel dumb or annoying for any of the questions I ask.
4. She seems to be flexible instead of "there is only one right way, and it's my way."  She encourages natural childbirth but isn't one of those people who think you're less of a woman if you opt for drugs.
5. She seems to think it's perfectly normal that we live in and are returning to China.  Which I realize is not a defining reason for choosing a doctor or anything, but it's still pretty cool.

In general, midwives take the approach that most childbirth is a natural process, not a medical problem that needs to be solved.  It's great that we have all the medical interventions when they are needed, but let's not use them just because they are there and we feel like we have to do something.  Also, midwives are apparently around to offer support during a lot of the labor and delivery instead of just popping in at the last minute.

So, there is my plug for midwives.  Or at least, for my midwife.

Other than going to the doctor frequently, we have been attending childbirth class, another advantage of being in the States during this time.  Our childbirth instructor asked us to describe our ideal birth experience and I thought, "Um, I don't know?  I can't say I've thought too much about it.  I'm glad that the doctor and nurses will speak English..."  So far we have talked about things like the stages of labor and different labor positions to try (who knew, you don't have to just lie in bed the whole time like in the movies).  I also created a "birth plan."  I tried to picture coming into a Chinese hospital (maybe not the fancy one in Beijing, but one of your other average hospitals) and saying, "This is my birth plan."  I think they would laugh a lot and then probably cart me off for a c-section.  In the general Chinese hospital, the husband isn't even allowed to be present during labor and delivery.  And somehow I doubt they have quite the same "create your own ideal labor...it's all about you" idea.  It seems like one of those individualist kind of things.

Statistical interlude: According to a NY Times article earlier this year, the US cesarean rate has reached 32% and in China the rate is approaching 50%.  The recommended level, according to WHO, is about 15%.

 Additionally, I have been wading through the piles of baby items we have received.  Have no fear; our child will be well clothed.  I only hope she won't grow to expect this much in later life, unless we can continue to get this many cute clothes without having to buy any of them.  I contemplate how we will get it all back to China and try to imagine what our students will think, when they were already a little overwhelmed by the 5 baby things we had in Weinan.

The item I am currently most excited about is our incredibly cool "Peapod" baby tent!  This travel bed can be used for infants through about three years, weighs less than 5 lbs, and folds up into a little 14" round travel bag.  Take that, Pack n' Play!

On my to-do list for the next month:
- Pack hospital bag...you'd think you were moving to China for all the things they tell you to bring
- Figure out how this whole baby passport/visa process will work
- Read books about childbirth and babies (I have recently developed quite an interest in this subject...)
- Make a baby quilt
- Wash a bazillion baby clothes
- Take a lot of naps

And perhaps...
- Have baby

That's right...we're just over one month (though still 5 weeks) from due date - September 23rd!

Playing with my new stroller.  And a baby doll.  Because I am very grown up.

Funny Places

What we look like these days (except this is a week old, so I now look about twice as pregnant.)

by Ruth
 
The South is a funny place.  Everybody smiles and waves at you on the street, but they're liable to shoot you if they find you trespassing on their property.  They might yell at you first, or call in the dogs, but you can bet they've got a shotgun nearby.  I shouldn't spread these stereotypes because some of you nice Californians who have never been to Georgia are now thinking it's more dangerous than the shady parts of LA, and that's really not true.  All you have to do is talk to someone with a good Southern accent and you'll swear they are the nicest person you've ever met, all shotguns aside.  There's nothing like a good Southern accent.  Except maybe a nice fried-apple pie from the Varsity.

Anyway, we have indeed come to rest in the land of shotguns and fried-apple pies, aka Georgia.  I think it gets more humid every time I'm here, but probably I've just become one of those dry-climate wimps who can't handle a little air-oppression.  Or the 7 months pregnant could have something to do with it.  I have now officially entered the "no-fly" zone.  For most people, not being able to fly for a couple of months wouldn't seem like a big deal.  But for me, it's pretty weird.  After all, let us not forget the 68 flights in the past 5 years. It reminds me of "entering the time of confinement" back in the olden days.

We've been enjoying our summer in the States so far.  One of the best things has been all the time we've spent with friends.  Yes, even better than Taco Bell.  We both miss friends so much while we are gone.  I forget that some people have friends they see more than once a year.  Weird thought.  I love laughing and being sarcastic, seeing friends' kids who are twice as big as last time but still remember you, calling someone up and saying, "Let's hang out," and actually looking at someone while talking to them, with no web-cam delays.  I'll never get tired of that.

I always enjoy being back in America, but this summer has been different because I realized I don't really want to live here.  Which is good since I probably won't be for at least some time.  I enjoy the novelty of it all but recognize that Taco Bell wouldn't be quite so exciting if I drove past it every day.  There are still things I really like about America, things even deeper than Taco Bell.  Like friends that you actually see more than once a year.  And (especially right now) the reassurance of knowing you can easily get to a good doctor if anything goes wrong.  The overabundance of A/C (ok, we're moving back toward shallow...).  Not being the crazy foreigners that everyone stares at.  Our kids being able to grow up around their grandparents and aunts and uncles.  But lately, I can't quite picture living here.  Now that we've been away, coming back would never be quite the same.

We were visiting the other day with some friends who are about to move to China and talking about some of the things we like about it.  It really made me miss China and our students and our apartment and the little restaurants we go to every week and the smiling old ladies who sit by the school gate.  There are still things I really don't like about China, but often I can just shake my head and say, with fond amusement, "China is a funny place." 

Similar to the way I shake my head in amused camaraderie and say, "Ah, the South.  With its shotguns and apple pie.  It's weird, but there's nothing quite like it."

Ruth vs. Mutinous Body ("...and the winner is...Ruvina!")

Ruvina has apparently taken up Tae Bo.  She is very diligent about practicing too.  When it's time to take a break from all the kicking, she switches to somersaults and flips, and sometimes I think she's taken up lap swimming.  I don't know she manages in such a small space, but probably the flexibility from all that yoga helps out.  If I did half as much exercise as she, I'd be in great shape.

She does seem to feel the confinement sometimes, though.  At those times, I watch my stomach rock and jump and bulge as she tries to break out, perhaps confusing herself with a bird in a shell.  Actually, I imagine her getting suited up in a tiny superhero outfit, getting ready to shoot off into the sky, fist in air.

Despite these constant, forceful reminders of Ruvina's presence, it still doesn't seem real that we're going to have a baby in just about two months!  Two months is not long.  But it still seems all vague and distant, and a small part of me is convinced I will just remain suspended in this pregnant state forever.

That's not exactly my first choice.  I've never been one of those people who desires to be eternally pregnant.  My body is getting as antsy as Ruvina is.  Everyone says the third trimester you feel hot and tired and uncomfortable, and guess what - it's true!  It seems like the day I hit the third trimester, my body suddenly decided, "Enough of this.  I'm staging a protest."

First my joints went on strike.  That's why whenever I stand up and try to walk, I look like I have no hip joints.  My leg muscles had a nervous breakdown and started spazzing out.  Then my back decided to start burning and looting.  Think smashed up cars and yelling crowds and smoke and fire.  My stomach decided to participate by shooting off flares.

My internal cooling system left for vacation, claiming to be overworked and under-appreciated all these years.  As it drove off for the beach, I think I heard it yell back, "Thought you were just naturally cold-blooded all this time?  No!  That was all my hard work.  Let's see how you like mid-summer without me!"  And then there was some evil laughter.

My body's general manager became concerned about the excessive energy output and flipped the switch to "permanent low-power mode."  I read the fine print warning and it says things like, "Caution: Low-power mode will result in tremendous effort to stand up, walk more than 10 feet, or even roll over in bed.  You will almost certainly experience frequent breathlessness, panting after one flight of stairs, continual exhaustion, difficulty sleeping, persistent hunger, decreased brain activity, memory loss, unexplained crying, and irrational thoughts, such as the idea that your body has banded together in mutiny."

Despite all these things, I am strangely happy in this stage of life.  Ever since I got over throwing up all the time, I have been overall very happy.  Kevin might beg to differ, since he gets the most play-by-play in this war of Ruth vs. mutinous body, but it really is true.  I stumble out of the fight tired, hungry, and somewhat disoriented, but I get a good nap or something to eat, and then I'm happy again.  It's like my psyche chose to show mercy and become my ally.  The happy, bubbly Good Fairy decided it's time for "default happy mode."  It's kind of weird, but I'm okay with it.

On a side note, I will reassure you once again that Ruvina will not be the name showing up on a birth certificate.  Although, it does seem like a very appropriate name for a 3lb pre-birth, exercise-fanatic superhero.  We are very close to deciding on a post-birth name.  We are also very close to deciding not to tell the name until the baby is born.  Because, what if we change our mind?  And besides, until the baby is officially born, random strangers think they should still have a say in your choice, and untactful people (don't judge, you could be one of them) feel it is their responsibility to tell you they knew someone with that name who was a total brat/world tyrant/very ugly.  But once baby is born, the only people with so little tact as to tell you they hate your name choice (at least to your face) are the ones who would also tell you your baby is ugly, and we don't speak to them anyway.

So, you may very well be left in suspense for two more months, by which time you will probably be so attached to Ruvina that you refuse to call her by any other name.  And as long as you also say she is the most beautiful/perfect/intelligent/aerobically fit baby that has ever lived, we'll probably let you get away with it.

Beach Photo Shoot

We are enjoying our time in California!  Here are a few pictures from a recent photo shoot on the beach (compliments of Scott, Kevin's brother).  In just about two and a half months we'll be a family of three!!

The Past 5 Days

A disordered and un-comprehensive list by Ruth

In the past 5 days...

I remembered what cheddar cheese tastes like.
I keep forgetting we're supposed to flush TP.

I saw at least five times as many stars as in the entire past year.
I realized the nearest neighbors are so far away I can't even smell their cooking.
I shot ice right out of the fridge door whenever I wanted it.

I can easily eat three kinds of dairy in one meal.
Two of them are probably cheese.

I stayed up til 1:30am hanging out with friends. This is amazing both in the fact that I got to hang out with friends and that I stayed awake past 10pm!
I finally started sleeping past sunrise (yay for overcoming jetlag).

I watched a TV show called "I didn't know I was pregnant" (Uh-mazing by the way, about women who didn't know they were pregnant until they went into labor. To which I would like to say, "Seriously??")
I watched part of a lumberjack contest.
And learned that for 4 years there was a state of Franklin (now part of TN).
On the news, they paused to show a "cute baby of the day." Then they shared a story about two adopted puppies.
My conclusion? American TV is WEIRD.

I went to the doctor and it was only a 45 minute drive instead of a 12hr train ride. So I really can't complain about the wait at the office.
I ate Taco Bell, and it was every bit as good as I've imagined for the past four months.

And I found out (still reading?)...

WE'RE HAVING A GIRL!!!