Happy Halloween

Just call me Clifford the Big Red Dog. I'm wearing red Clifford ears, I drew a doggie nose on my face with make-up, and I even found a black choker that could pass for a collar. I wore my costume to work today despite the wemblings of my conservative husband. As far as I've seen, only one other person dressed up today; she came as a bloody surgeon. My theory is that people refrain from dressing up because they're afraid they won't be taken seriously. I don't worry about that: nobody takes me seriously anyway.

Anyway I'm having a great time. Everywhere I go people smile at me and tell me how cute I look, sometimes they even give me candy. People should behave this way every day! I just love Halloween.

Tonight I have class so I won't be able to see all the Trick-or-Treaters. Can you believe this is the second year in a row that my class has fallen on Halloween? I have a presentation today too, so I couldn't be "sick". Just as well, my group will probably get an A+. I mean, how could anyone give a bad mark to a big red puppy?

Baby Show!

Today Adam and I went with my parents and my nephew to the Today's Parent Baby and Toddler Show in Toronto. We got all kinds of free baby stuff (wipes, formula, rash cream, etc.) and entered our name in a million draws for a million baby gift baskets. We also got lots of pamphlets teaching us new and exciting ways to blow all our money on things like freezer space for our kid's umbilical cord blood and videos to teach him how to read when he's 3 months old.

More importantly, we got a five minute demo of one of them newfangled 3D ultrasounds. Here is the souvenir pic:



For some reason this scan makes children look all gold and lumpy, but I think our son was the most adorable one there. Now the big question: who does he look like?

Adam:


or me:



You can vote on the poll on the sidebar there ----->

The twilight zone canning

For about a month I've been doing menial work for a financial company (in this case the word "financial" is code for "a place for rich people to dump their money"). When I say menial, I mean requiring fewer brains and less skill than a data-entry clerk. My job was to pull some stuff out of a file, fax to the next room, put the file back, then repeat the process for 50 files a day. Despite the rotting braincells, I enjoyed myself. Most of the people I worked with were friendly and easy to talk to.

Fast-forward to Monday: the twilight zone events. I finished my work day, and said "see you tommorrow" to my coworkers. That evening I got a call from my temp agency lady. She said they didn't want me anymore! "Huh?" said I. I wasn't near done my extra-important monkey work.

"You're work was great, but you were a bit too chatty" was my boss's opinion of me, relayed third person via the British accent of my temp agency lady.

Okay, I freely admit I'm chatty. But wouldn't it be prudent to tell me that? I'm obedient to the point of self-deprivation and would gladly work in silence if asked. But nobody asked. In fact, the last time the supreme commander (VP with the authority to can me) talked to me at all it was my second week, to ask if I could stay until mid November! I rarely saw the woman, except the odd time when she came to use the photocopier.

Having said that, if she wanted me gone that's her call. It's the way it was done that has me baffled. I suppose it is the nature of temp work that supervisors can avoid unpleasant confrontations by simply asking the middleman to send in the next monkey. I couldn't believe anyone could be so cowardly and uncourteous. I'm not even saying that in a way that means: "That &$#@%! How dare she do this to me!" I'm thinking more along the lines of: "Huh? Do people in the real world really behave this way?" The whole thing was straight out of dreamland.

Luckily the folks at my temp agency were just as flabbergasted, and immediately got me set up with a new gig. Now I'm working in Oakville, in a warehouse full of Lego and porn, for these two supervisors who don't have time to do all their daily data-entry. Most of the time I'm alone in their office (no opportunity to be "chatty") but every once in a while one of them will come in and squeal with delight because I've finished all his boring work. It's nice to be appreciated.

Guess who came for dinner...

So my inlaws came over for dinner yesterday, which of course requires a whole day of cleaning and cooking. (I handled the cooking. Adam's better at cleaning, he's his mother's son). I made pierogi lasagna and spinach and salad. For dessert: store-bought chocolate pudding cake and ice cream.

Then for the evening's entertainment, we played Rummikub.
This is a game I used to play with my grandmother, a common activity for the McNicoll Clan. The Filipowicz's, however, never play board games as a family. They can be a pretty rowdy bunch when asked to compete.

In any case, a good time was had by all.

Best Hat Ever

My father-in-law went to Vulcan and brought me back this supercool hat. It's hillarious that he would even go to Vulcan (which is in Alberta, what were you thinking?) because he thinks everything to do with science fiction or fantasy is "for kids."

So I have this cold and on Tuesday I was in night class, blowing my nose and feeling miserable. I left class early because my brain was all clogged with snot. Some women smoke crack all through their pregnancies, all I want is a Neo Citran. Anyway, I got home just before ten, all bummed out and stuffy.

It turned out my hubby had been over at his parents house and had brought back this hat. It made me happy. (No easy task). Next time I see my father-in-law I'm going to give him a great big hug.

BTW: Here's my most recent preggers belly shot:

Baby Kicks

Yesterday we went to Caroline Wiles' launch of her new CD "I'd Like to Know." Adam and I have been fans of hers since we saw her perform at Angela's Cave (owned by my Mom's friend Angela, also a fabulous singer). Anyway the baby was kicking through most of the performance. Either he really loves loud music with a nice beat, or he hates it. If you want to become a big fan of Caroline's too check out the sound bytes on her website.

Today I hung out with my best friend Amy and her sister Steph. I subjected them to my wedding video then we went out for dinner (with the husband) and watched a DVD of the Johnny Cash movie "Walk the Line." Again, my son either loves that movie, or hates it. Or maybe he wasn't paying any attention to it what so ever and was just using the time to practice his acrobatics.

He's not big enough yet to hurt me when he kicks, but he does think my bladder is a squeeze toy.

Baby Dreams

I had two dreams last night related to babyness.

In one both me and my sister were about to give birth. Robin gave birth first to a boy named Tyler. It was like in the movies where the newborn looks like a five month old. Anyway Tyler was some sort of genius. He already knew some simple words and he had this chart where he could point to certain words and communicate that way. Adam came (you know because I was in labour) and asked if I was still pregnant. I said yes, but my sister had her baby. This all took place at my Mom's house.

In the other dream I went to the doctor's. Except instead of an office the appointment was in a car and there were two doctors. One was my regular family doctor, Dr. Jhirad, and the other was a trainee doctor. The trainee was handling the appointment and Dr. Jhirad kept poking his head in the car to see how the trainee was doing. I asked the trainee to check to see if I had a yeast infection and he got all flustered. Dr. Jhirad said that was the kind of thing we needed to do in the office. We went inside, but I lost track of where the doctors went and the place was ridiculously large. I sat down in a waiting room with overly fancy chairs. I had an ultrasound photo with me, but instead of being all grainy, it had a real picture of a baby (looked like Tyler from the previous dream). Some little girl came up to me in the waiting room and started talking to me about the photo. She asked if it was my ultrasound and I said no, it's just a picture of a baby. She said she liked how I incorporated the background. The girl's mother told her to stop bothering the nice lady.

Happy Birthday Mom

It's my Mom's birthday!

Anyway this is what's been happening this week:

I've started working at this financial company. It's a place where rich people hide their money from being taxed by making charitable donations. I got this job throught one of my many temp agencies who recently decided "Hey, this girl's pretty cool. We should give her work."

My job is looking through files to find specific documents, faxing the documents to the next room, then putting the files back where they came from. It's meanial, but it's easy and the people I work with are friendly.

The good thing about my job is that it's right near the lake, so I always eat my sandwich there at lunchtime. One time I saw a whole flock of monarch butterflies, beautiful. They must have been migrating because the very next day it started getting cold.

I work with this Irish lady who is totally amazed at how unpregnant I look and how enormous my breasts are. Yesterday we went to the employment agency together to pick up our cheques, and she told the employment agency that I was pregnant. I hadn't told them yet, and my Irish colleague felt bad to have outed me. "It's okay", said I. If I wanted to keep it a secret I wouldn't have worn my "Yummy Mummy" t-shirt. "Aren't her boobs massive?" said the Irish lady.

Anyway, once again, happy birthday MOM! (My Mom is the greatest. All my friends know my Mom and say how cool she is, even when they only met her once or twice. I'd give examples, but you'd really have to meet her to experience her full coolness.) Go Mom!

BTW: Yes I know this post wasn't really about my Mom, but she likes to know what's going on with my life.

The Name Game

As you can see on the right, my husband has created a mini poll so all you bloggers can have a say in the naming of our baby. I predict that all the names Adam likes best will win (he likes to cheat and vote several times). Oh look, I see the vote is 100% William. What a surprise. Anyhoo, I thought I'd provide you with some pros and cons to influence your voting.

William
Meaning "helmet of will" or "determined protector"
Pros:

• It was my grandfather's name
• It was Adam's uncle's name
• It has a bunch of different short forms to choose from: Will, Willy, Bill, Billy, Liam
• It's been around forever and nobody is likely to think that it's a weirdo name or an old man's name

Cons:

• My grandfather went by his middle name (Allen) anyway
• Our friends Becca and Drew are probably going to name their son William (and Becca's going into labour first)
• I'm worried that it will be too common. As a Jennifer among millions, I wouldn't want to do that to my son
  

Payton
Meaning: Village of the Warrior
Pros:

• I dunno, it's okay

Cons:

• But only okay

Rogan
Meaning: red-haired
Pros:

• It sounds okay

Cons:

• Our child is unlikely to have red hair
• It sounds a bit like a girl's name. I'm reminded of Rogue from X-men

Eret
Meaning: Honour
Pros:

• It's actually a fun bastardisation of my Mom's maiden name "Ehret"
• Other children are unlikely to have the same name
• The meaning is cool

Cons:

• I don't think my mom even likes her maiden name
• My husband's Polish relatives are unlikely to pronounce it properly

Allen
Meaning: Precious
Pros:

• It was my grandfather's name (or, you know, his middle name)
• It sounds good

Cons:

• It doesn't go well with Adam, which Adam wants to be the middle name.

Clayton
Meaning: clay settlement
Pros:

• It sounds okay
• We can call him Clay

Cons:

• I can't stop thinking of the kid from the Adam@home comic
• The meaning is lame

Bruce Wayne
Meaning: Thicket, woodland (Bruce), wagon-maker (Wayne)
Pros:

• My nephew will be super-pleased because it was his suggestion
• Batman's cool
• It actually doesn't suck as bad as 98% of the names out there

Cons:

• Oh, come on, it's not as if we'd actually consider it

Something Else
Your suggestions are welcome. Keep it mind it must go with the last name Filipowicz (so Philip is out, as is anything that starts with F.)

Bullets but no points

• I got a job and then lost it without working a shift. It was part-time office work through one of my employment agencies, a trucking company that needed a "woman's touch" in the office (no kidding that's how the job was described to me). Apparently the truckers randomly decided they needed someone who had worked at a trucking company before.
• This morning my husband made himself a sandwich for breakfast: swiss cheese, turkey meat, and strawberry creamcheese on a cinnamon raison bagel. Ew!
• I'm going to see a movie this afternoon with my sister and my nephew. Something called Everyone's Hero. Looks cute.
• My husband made a looping version of my ultrasound DVD. Now I can leave it on the tv all day and see my son everytime I walk by.
• For about $150 I can get a 3-D ultrasound (where the baby actually looks like a baby rather than an alien skeleton). I think I'll ask for it for my birthday.
• We're having trouble with names. We had picked out William, but suddenly I'm seeing Williams everywhere. As a Jennifer, I know how sucky it is to have a common name. I don't want to do that to my son. My husband doesn't care as long as his Polish relatives can pronounce it.
• My nephew wants his cousin to be named "Bruce Wayne". It was also the name of his fish.

Jailbreaks, Geishas and Hamburger Yogourt

I dreamt last night that me and my friend Eireann were cell mates in jail. Except our "jail cells" were more like the pens you find in petting zoos. At first we were just hanging out, doing our make-up to look like geishas (because we thought there might be some activity at the jail where we had to look like geishas) but then we decided to escape.

All we had was a backpack each. I pulled something out of my backpack and picked the lock on our pen and we ended up in the pen right beside ours. Our plan was to convince the guard, who was a geisha, to let us out of the building. When the geisha/guard came, she stepped over the the fence to join us in the pen (yes, it was that low). She was nice, but she wouldn't let us out of the building because she was afraid to get in trouble. The warden came by just then and all three of us hid (really obviously by ducking down and covering our heads, since there was no furniture or anything to hide behind).

Seeing that we had managed to get out of our cell, the warden put Eireann and I in another cell. This one was outdoors and was basically a chain-link fence with a hedge on top of it. The warden wanted to be sure we wouldn't escape, so he asked us (first Eireann, then me) to demonstrate how we might climb the fence to get out. I climbed over easily by grabbing onto the hedge and putting my feet in the links of the fence. The warden left, to get some barbed wire or something.

Fortunately there was a very obvious hole that someone had cut in the fence and it lead right onto the street. We were going to leave but we didn't have our backpacks. I called for the warden and told him that I needed a change of clothes and could he bring me and Eireann our backpacks. He agreed and went to get them from the trunk of his car. Our plan was to leave through the hole as soon as we had our stuff.

The warden got us our backpacks but he didn't leave. Instead he sat down with us to eat some yogourt. I kept wishing he would go away so we could escape. I took a yogourt that looked like peach but when I opened it, I saw that it had pickles, grated cheese, and a little hamburger meat in it. I realized that I had picked hamburger flavour by accident. Gross. I ate it anyway.

BTW: If anyone wants to view a slightly better resolution of my ultrasound, check out this google video link:
http://video.google.ca/videoplay?docid=-1013516036862659327

It's a boy!

My son (that's right SON) is now the star of his very first film! Hopefully you can view this masterpiece above, I don't know, I'm a video-posting virgin (though obviously not an actual virgin). The husband transferred it from the VHS they sold us at the ultrasound place (VHS is all they had. I think they just upgraded from cave painting.)

Anyway I'm super duper excited that there's a real person in my uterus, with genitals and everything! I really hope the video shows up, you can see his little hands, and his little feet, and his little brain (well, actually it's quite a large brain, you can tell he'll be a smart kid). It's a boy! Woohoo!

My life as a working mom (temporarily)

For the past two days (Mon, Tues) I've been temping at this place called Claybrooke, enjoying many hours of mindnumbing menial labour. My duties included:

• Rolling up posters,
• Sorting posters and other in-store signage for Future Shop and Telus Mobility,
• Taping up boxes, sometimes using that super gluey tape that makes fingers all uggy,
• Putting stickers on boxes,
• Packing skids with boxes (this is kind of like setting up to play Jenga).

Not too bad, easy stuff. My body isn't used to working though and I'm pretty tired. Especially since yesterday I had to go directly to class afterwards. When you start work at 8:30am, getting home at 11pm is just not cool.

The offspring has been kicking a lot lately. Not while I was working, but on the train to class, during class, and at around three in the morning when I was sleeping. I think that last time the little tyke was providing a service, waking me up to tell me I had to pee. What a good little baby. Even though it's way too early to feel the baby move from the outside, Adam puts his hand on my belly everytime I say I feel a kick. Pregnancy is a little one-sided and I can see how a guy can feel left-out when he gets none of the signs that his kid is on the way (other than the fact that his wife is getting curvier and occasionally pukes). Adam also got a stethoscope because he read somewhere that at this time you should be able to hear the baby with it. (BTW: the brand of the stethoscope is "Colorpro". The hell? What kind of colours can you get from a stethoscope exactly?) Anyway, the husband had fun listening to me digest pizza and pretending it was his son/daughter.

Pig update: Lokai seems okay, not showing any signs of sickness, or grief. With Bele gone though, he does seem a bit bored. He chases himself around the cage and it's just not the same. I've been feeding him carrots to ease the pain (he'll have fewer treats now that he has noone to steal them from).

Adam's got a blog too

Not to steal to much limelite from Jen's Blog, but I have one too
and ive just posted! http://simianguy.blogspot.com

Bele Filipowicz 2005-2006

Yesterday he was his usual chubby furry self. Today...

I went to the Lokai and Bele's cage to make sure they had enough food and water. Lokai squeaked and chirped the way he always does when there's even a slight possibility of carrots coming his way. Bele has always been the shyer, more skittish of the pigs so I didn't think it odd that he wasn't coming out of his hut to greet me. Then I saw him, lying stretched out, not moving or breathing. I knew he was dead, but I didn't really believe it. I still don't.

The thing is Bele was so young, a teenager by guinea pig standards. So why, why, WHY, did he go so soon? I don't know. Here's some things I do know:

• Bele died in his favourite place, his Riu Palace wooden hut.
• He had plenty of food and water, so he didn't go hungry or thirsty.
• He was loved.

Bele is survived by his adoptive parents, myself and Adam (though my husband hates it when I refer to the rodents as his children), and by his brother Lokai.

Algonquin Anniversary

It seems like only yesterday that Adam and I knotted ourselves together, but it's actually been a whole year (and one day). We celebrated the milestone by taking a weekend camping trip (bonus that our anniversary falls on Labour Day Weekend). I still have that cold (no pukies though), but at least I had plenty of used Kleenex with which to kindle our campfires. Anyhoo here are some pictures:


Some fine campfire cuisine. No, we were never able to get the corn quite right even though we tried soaking it, not soaking it, wrapping it in foil, not wrapping it in foil, and cooking it at various lengths of time. We finally declared it the fault of the corn and vowed never again to buy corn for 99 cents/dozen. The potatoes turned out yummy though. And the S'mores. Yum!


No moose this trip, but we did enjoy the antics of the chipmunks that lived around our campsite. Here they are having a meeting. Even they wouldn't eat our corn.


I asked Adam to send me some pictures that truly represented our trip and he sent me this one. I assume it represents our trip because a) it was taken during our trip and b)I am wearing Adam's shirt in the picture, something I often do while camping. He also sent me a picture of yours truly coming out of the washroom. My darling husband pointed out that I spent most of my time there. True, my bladder isn't what it used to be, but to be fair my body is trying its best to get rid of a nasty virus (and whose fault is that Mr. Filipowicz?). Anyway, I looked horrible in the washroom shot and refuse to post it.

In other news, I heard on the radio on the way home that The Crocodile Hunter was killed by a manta ray. I saw a documentary on manta rays not too long ago and they seemed like such nice folks. You just never know.

Sick Mummy

So the man responsible for impregnating me has now also given me his sore throat and cough. (I love you, Sweetie). All the delicious decongestants, and cough suppressants that the hubby has lying around are off limits to preggers girl, so I have to resort to non-medical remedies. Unfortunately, for some reason my first-trimester queasiness is back with a vengeance and so far most of the home remedies I've tried have lead to various flavours of puke. These include:

• gargling with salt water
• tea with lemon and honey

Oh well, upchucking is one way to get rid of a virus, right? Anyway my doctor says that none of this will harm the offspring. He also says that it's cool if I want to take tylenol. I'm afraid to ingest anything right now, medical or not.

In other pregnancy-related news: I've recently purchased my first pair of ugly elastic preggers jeans, but haven't yet worn them in public. I'm on the cusp of needing them (I'm a wee bit too big for many of my jeans and shorts but not big enough for strangers to ask to pet my belly). I also bought two preggers t's, one that says "What's Kicking?" and another bearing the heroic image of Strawberry Shortcake (who looks way too young to be having kids if you ask me) and the slogan "Yummy Mummy". Maybe I'll wear them next month.

Speaking of preggers shopping, my already oversized girls have grown to gigantic proportions. On Saturday I went to the specialty bra store (the word specialty here meaning expensive) and purchased two 100-dollar H-cup bras. That's right, H-cup. Who knew the alphabet was even that long? Certainly not Sears or La Senza. I'm four cup-sizes bigger than the largest available in the department stores and I'm not even nursing yet. My husband is thrilled.

The Alien that Lives in my Uterus

So we didn't find out this time what kind of creature is growing in my belly (girl, boy, nerd, conehead). Though you can clearly see that my offspring has quite a handsome spine, and a possible future as a contortionist.

Everytime my doctor sends me to book an ultrasound, I think no problemo, routine ultrasound. Then the ultrasound girl looks at me like I have three heads and asks why the heck am I getting this done now? The answer of course is that my doctor LOVES doing tests. He orders chest X-rays when I have a cough. Sometimes he gets my blood tested for HIV just for kicks. Anyway, I might need another ultrasound in a couple weeks so the doc can enjoy more pics of my insides.

Usually before an ultrasound or doctor's appointment I have this irrational fear that they'll tell me that I'm not really going to have a baby and there's just a dead fetus floating in there. But I think I may have felt it move this morning. I can't be sure, it was quite subtle and might have been a gas bubble or my imagination. I choose to believe it was my baby. It's alive, Igor! It's alive!

Oh, and they also took my blood. Vampires.

No Fridge No Phone

So the day before yesterday the fuse blew that connected our fridge. No problem, says my handy husband. We shall replace it. Unfortunately, even with power going to the fridge it was not its normal chilly self. It's then we noticed a gross oily smell.

We called the repair man and described the oily smell. They said such a problem would cost 400$ plus labour to fix. GAH! We had to make a decision fast. Already the popcicles had melted into a mult-coloured puddle that would make you weep.

So I called my mother, who has power of attourney over my grandmother (which extends to our appliances). She agreed that the only course of action was to buy a whole new fridge. So we did. A nice stainless steel one with the freezer at the bottom. It gets delivered on Saturday.

So for the next few days we get nothing to eat but cupboard food. No veggies. No nothing. The only cold thing we have available is the one bag of milk that we squeezed into our super-mini mini fridge.

In other news, still waiting for our phone service. I borrowed my Mom's cellphone to stay connected with reality.

Disconnected from reality

Tommorrow we have one of them nutty all day appointments to install our cable internet. Unfortunately the brainiacs at Cogeco have suddenly discovered that our building won't let them install their phone service. (Where was this illuminating fact 2 weeks ago, I know not). My grandmother's phone company, on the other hand, has been very diligent and has promptly cut off Omi's service (our only link to the outside world).

So we signed up for Vonage. Same price as Cogeco for phone but with more goodies. Like, I can call Italy for free. Because I know SO many people in Italy. I think we can also call Scotland, so I might just randomly call Scottish Carol once our phone is installed. Who knows when that will be.

Hopefully this is the last time I have to sponge my family's internet. Cheers!