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03/04/2008
Mario Batali? Huh. I guess I am a freak.
According to highly respected think tank BabyCenter, it is not uncommon to begin experiencing strange dreams during pregnancy — like about wallowing in a pile of kittens, say, or taking a crowbar to the windshield of your beloved mate, that no-good cheating hound. Their article mentions "a sexy encounter with an old flame," but, curiously, has no interpretation to offer of the smoking hot sex dream I had last night about none other than celebrity chef Mario Batali.
I doubt, as BabyCenter opines, that the dream had anything to do with "concerns about [my] changing figure," or feeling "more sexually charged than ever." I think it had to do with the lure of the forbidden: giant bowls of pasta, not the whole wheat kind, all I can eat, generously lubricated with extra-virgin olive oil. Accompanied, of course, by the relaxed inhibitions of a really good bottle of red.
I know. I know. Mario Batali. Too much information? Hey, you got off easy. I could have described his giant knobbly pepper mill.
JuliaKB over at I Won't Fear Love has a beautiful post today about a feeling plenty of us can relate to, wondering if her reproductive experience has turned her into a freak. About an encounter with a pregnant woman — a normal — she writes:
She is a perfectly nice woman, she is. She just happens to live in this universe I don't ever remember occupying. And when I get glimpses of that universe I can't be sure who is the freak. Are we freaks? We who hold our breaths, individually and collectively, for every pregnant friend, be it online or IRL? Or are they? The unaffected? The ones who have either never been close enough to infertility, to miscarriages, to dead babies, or have been, but are still somehow sure they are not going to be touched by this? [...] I feel that we are the realists, for we know that there is no rhyme or reason, and anyone can be hit, even the happy shiny pregnant women.
Go read it, you magnificent bunch of freaks, you.
Today Charlie and I are going south. I am trying to teach him the most important principles of organization, as I understand them:
- The mother of organization is bone-deep laziness. (Coincidentally, so is the mother of Charlie.)
- If you write things down, you never need to exert yourself to remember them again. You lazy slob.
So we made a list to simplify our packing. We went down the list, item by item, putting his shirts, pants, pajamas, and other needful items neatly into the suitcase. And then I went downstairs to do I don't know what — daydream about getting it on with James Peterson, probably. Charlie stayed upstairs and industriously completed his packing.
Here is what Charlie thinks we need for a trip to Louisiana at the beginning of the month of March:
- swimsuit
- velour footed sleeper, size 12 months, "if we meet any babies. Just in case, Mama."
- knitted sweater vest bearing the jolly disembodied head of one S. Claus
He has also asked to take along his stuffed bear, Janet, and another, smaller stuffed bear, Janet's baby, "because she would be so lonely if she didn't have her baby." (Damn skippy, kiddo.) Oh, and yet another manky-looking stuffed bear, whose identity is not entirely clear but whom I suspect of being Janet's baby daddy.
We'll be gone for ten days while the other half of my house is gutted and — they promised, y'all — restored. I certainly hope so, because I can't see myself sleeping out in the car with a preschooler, a young mother, a baby, and a wild-eyed matted drifter with a wicked honey jones. To say nothing of that creepy-assed Mr. Claus.
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Safe travels.
Hey, at least you're dreaming of someone who can cook!
Pasta...Extra-Virgin Olive oil...Red Wine--SEXY. Dream on girlie. Was he wearing nothing but his apron and crocs??
Have fun in Lousiana.
Julie, Julie, Julie. With your graphics skills, I would expect to see a pictorial rendering of said knobbly pepper mill. (I'm picturing a tapir's, and it seems to match up well with Mario in my mind.)
Are we sure that the fact that both Mario Batali and James Peterson work with very large, very sharp, very shiny knives isn't somehow coming into play in your subconscious? Perhaps we need to dig deeper. Waaayy deeper.
Just sayin'....
~C~
Enjoy your stay down here in Louisiana. The weather is awful right now...hot one day and cold the next.
Safe journey!
Cut away my inhibitions
With your big ol' santoku . . . .
Please advise Charlie that "just in case" is the enemy of efficiency. Or just give him a snuggle, because once again, awwwww.
Thank you.
And I have to soooo second the Awwww on Charlie. Plus, dude, I am so a list packer too. But here's the thing-- I have considered making a master list to print out and modify for each individual trip. Efficient, right? But I am also lazy, so not so much with implementation so far.
Have a great trip, and may the house be in tip-top shape for your return. Complete with the little in-law apartment for the bear family, I assume?
I say they're the freaks and we're the realists. Not that I don't envy their blissful and self-assured ignorance at times.
When I got pregnant for the 4th and ultimately successful time, I went in for the first of 4 HCG draws (followed by ultrasounds every two weeks becase we were all just that paranoid). While I was waiting, an obviously pregnant woman came in for her first OB appointment.
She was 20 weeks.
20!!!
I absolutely gaped at her like she had horns. I couldn't imagine what planet she lived on where she was perfectly fine waiting until 20 freaking weeks to go to the doctor.
The stick turned pink and she assumed it was all just humming along perfectly. I mean...damn...it still stuns me to this day.
I love it when my daughter packs her own bag.
LOL - this just cracked me up "I can't see myself sleeping out in the car with a preschooler, a young mother, a baby, and a wild-eyed matted drifter with a wicked honey jones. To say nothing of that creepy-assed Mr. Claus."
Enjoy your vacation with Charlie.
Happy & safe travels to you, Charlie and the bear clan. Charlie makes me melt.
Thanks for the link to JuliaKB's post - perfect timing. I constantly want to slap people who get all giddy and giggly about pregnancies. Nothing like reality to turn you into a realist/freak.
Don't be too concerned about your Mario Batali dream. I'm also experiencing pregnancy dreams and had one about a naked Boss Hogg (Dukes of Hazzard) chasing me around. He held me down and bit my nipples off. Odd. Just plain odd.
Have a good vacation!
Oh that is TOO funny...the lure of the forbidden...lately I am having some strange, sick urges myself, although I do not have pregnancy to blame it on. I did, however, recently start taking pig thyroid hormones to bolster my own flagging piece of crap thyroid, which appears to have turned me into an utter swine...anyway, the other day I found myself musing out loud, IN FRONT OF MY HUSBAND, that Sanjay Gupta was a CUTE little Indian man, mm-MMM! I hadn't thought of it that way, but maybe this represents my longing for health? I'd prefer to think it's some Freudian shit like that than that I am simply losing my mind.
safe travels! It sounds like you'll have plenty of *ahem* protection, in case you are accosted by random food network stars on your journey.
I certainly hope that was about the food - shorts, pony-tail, Crocs....
Have a great trip!
Charlie's bear is named Janet? Does he ever tell her "Dammit Janet, I love you!"? Love the bear's name.
Safe travels. Here's hoping you have a finished home to return to.
And -- Charlie? Awwww...
I'll confess to Bill Nye, the Science guy when pregnant with #3.
You've given me a lot of food for thought lately regarding the fantasy of a "normal" pregnancy. I now check for updates on Alexa and Simone religiously. Sad how quickly her joy was turned into sorrow and fear; I send good wishes her way daily.
I just got finished writing $17,000 worth of checks to cover my donor fee and agency fee for my second go-around with donor eggs, due to happen in late April. There was no relaxing the first time it worked, and then failed, and there certainly will not be any this time around, however it ends.
This post made me laugh out loud and clap with glee!! I hope you and the bear bunch have a safe, fun time in Louisiana.
It's been acrap day here at Chez Hg recovery- I am at one with you on the food fantasies- I've woken up panicked thinking that I've eaten a whole peach pie (mmmmm...peaches) only to realize that I've been dreaming in full-colored sensory "Tast-o-vision". Dammit- if I could just REMEMBER that I'dve stayed asleep!!
But as cranky and CFS'd as I am, your line about "wild-eyed matted drifter with a wicked honey jones." made me chortle out loud.
God bless you, you wickedly funny woman- and have a safe trip!
LOL - Mario Batali!
I had a very ahem, shall we say, similar dream, with Bobby Flay in it very recently - and the weird part is, I'm not PG!
When my older sister was pregnant with her first son, the situation was less than ideal, and she had to move back home. I was 15 at the time, and I had to share a room with her. Not only did she have weird dreams, but her pregnant lady hormones caused *me* to have lots of CRAZY dreams for the duration of the pregnancy. I always swore I'd pay her back, but now it's proving harder than I'd imagined to make good on that promise.
But anyway, y'all have fun, and if that Claus fella gives you any trouble, you can always feed him to the gators. Just say you thought it was a nightmare...
Mario Batali is nothing--during my first pregnancy, I had full-Technicolor, X-rated dreams about HANNIBAL LECTER. Multiple times. Talk about freaky. Then, in my second pregnancy, I had wild sex dreams about Magic Johnson. Yeah. But we were very careful to use condoms, because apparently, even in dreamland, HIV transmission during unprotected sex is not cool.
The other night I dreamt that I gave birth to a fleshy blob with talons. I licked it and it was very salty. Soooooo...that Mario Batali dream seems pretty normal to me. Safe travels with your family.
Yeah, I recently had a dirty (very dirty) dream about Tom Colichio. You know, the unattractive and bald judge from Top Chef? And I don't even have the excuse of being knocked up - my psyche is that twisted without the extra hormones. It was so, SO good, though...
Charlie never stops cracking me up when I read these tidbits! :)
Janets baby daddy, huh? that almost killed me.
did i miss an update on the most recent trip to the OB? off to check.
Pack the vodka, just in case.
Charlie's worries about Janet are so cute. Of course, you could explain that Janet might need some time away from the baby so she doesn't go insane.
If you are traveling by plane, just remember to pack the bear version of a modern family into a carry-on bag. You don't want to have to deal with the sobs if Charlie's suitcase goes missing.
Have fun and Ho, Ho, Ho!
How do you write such great, open stuff and not feel weird that your great aunt Millie is reading it, or your in-laws, or Mario...
I've never tried to get pregnant or been pregnant or have much of any experience in that realm, but somehow, through the blogosphere, ended up subscribing to several blogs dealing with infertility and loss. And my goodness. I remember a time when a guy would look at me and I'd be panicking until I finally got my period, so easy did I believe it was to get pregnant. Of course, that's what the school administrators and Lifetime want you to believe. But how it is that I never saw that it worked the other way too is almost unbelieveable to me now.
My fiance is so paranoid. SO paranoid. We aren't ready for a baby now and it would be bad timing and so I can understand why he wants to be careful--me too--but there are times where he won't look at me (metaphorically) because he is so afraid that I might "accidentally" get pregnant. Maybe it's a false security blanket, but I can't help but laugh at how easily he (and so many people) seem to think this pregnancy thing is. My biggest fear now is that, when the time IS right, it won't happen.
so now i'm reading alexa's and julia KB's blogs as well as julie's.
i've given this subject--the glib naivete of the fertile--a lot of thought in recent months. i am one of them, or at least, i was, until about 2 years ago, right after my second child was born, and i stumbled upon this wonderful blog to which i've been dedicated ever since. i am currently pregnant with my third, and each conception was easy, each of the first two pregnancies uncomplicated (which is not to say pleasant), each resulting in a healthy baby. i'm due 2 weeks behind julie on #3, and so far (fingers crossed, knock on wood), all is well.
when i got pregnant the first time, i had NO idea how much could go wrong, or how often it does. it wasn't until i started reading julie's blog that i began to learn about how hard this is for so many women, and how oblivious the rest of the world is to their pain. i am not one of those giddy, giggly pregnant women--i'm much too inclined toward to pessimism to be giddy about anything--but i did take for granted that if you have enough sex, you get pregnant, and if you get pregnant, you end up with a baby, with perhaps the rare exception. now i know better, thanks to julie and the rest of you.
i do have my own area of undesired expertise: postpartum depression. my first three months of motherhood were an unmitigated nightmare, which culminated in a pharmaceutical odyssey of grand proportions. i'll never forget having my daughter beam up at me with pure infant joy and feeling absolutely doomed. or the sense of abject shame and failure that go with wanting to kill yourself during what's supposed to be the happiest time of your life.
it took reading this blog for me to understand all the ways that the desire for a family can be thwarted. but it took the birth of my daughter, and the suffering that followed, for me to appreciate the bitterness of that loss. my daughter wasn't real to me until i held her in my arms, and i couldn't let myself feel that overpowering maternal love for her until i got through the darkness of those first few months. so up until that point, the idea of losing a child, or losing a pregnancy, meant very little to me. i couldn't grasp what it might mean to the person who suffered the loss. now, when i hear your stories, i think about my kids. when i worry about something going wrong with this pregnancy--and i do, believe me, more than ever before--it hurts me in a way it never would have before, because now i have cleo, now i have owen, and i know that i will love this little person as desperately as i love them, and that loss would be....it would be that loss. it would break my heart.
i don't know what my point is, exactly, after all that rambling. i guess i just want to say, as someone who's had it easy in this particular endeavor, that suffering is universal, it just doesn't always take the same form. for my part, i will do my best to assume nothing, and to be sensitive. there's a saying, "be kind, for everyone you meet is fighting a hard battle." i wish all of you who are still struggling the best in your battles, and i will do my best not to add to anyone else's pain along the way.
I've been reading this blog for almost a full two years now. I check for updates daily, though I've never commented. I've always felt out of place because I cannot share this pain with you, or any of the women posting comments and mirroring your troubles.
But for the past 2 years, I've read the triumphs and the sorrows. I've championed for this baby and the attempts before. I want this to work out for you so badly, because I don't know of any woman that deserves it more.
And I've learned to not take the "marry and start a family" tradition for granted. Even though I'm 19 and am nowhere near settling down, I've learned to appreciate what comes easily to me and what does not. When the time comes, I hope pregnancy will be one of the things that come easily for me, but if not, well... there's at least someplace for me to turn to.
You're doing something amazing for the women who read this, you really are. Thank you.
Jennifer
P.S.- It's pretty chilly in La. right now. It stormed yesterday, thus a big temp. drop today, but it got up to 80 on Monday before the rain came. That's Louisiana weather for ya.
I'm a pop culture flop, so I just googled Mario Batali. Good god. I'm pretty sure he and Fat Bastard were separated at birth.
I dreamed of Gordon Ramesy last week. I have to quit watching so much BBC TV. And my baby just turned 1 year old on Sunday. Can I blame it on nursing hormones in the middle of the night.
I've been feeling more like an asshole than a freak, ever since my cousin announced to the whole family that she was pregnant as soon as she got her positive test. She immediately set up her registry, started posting weekly belly shots on her blog and referring to "the baby", and is almost finished decorating the nursery. She is just now 16 weeks... which is a few days past when I miscarried my first. At first I was a bit preoccupied with worrying about her, about how she might react if something did go wrong, but after I saw the huge pile of hand-me-down baby gear she'd accumulated (when she was only about 7 or 8 weeks), I began to feel very resentful. I think I've done a pretty good job of hiding it/ avoiding her, but I feel like such a jerk. I should just be happy for her right? It has nothing to do with me, right? I just can't help but take it personally. It's like having a skinny friend who's always complaining to you about being fat, even though you are the one who could stand to lose 20 (or 60, whatever) pounds. I've wanted so badly to call her this week and remind her that this was how far along I was when I lost ("the baby") my first pregnancy, just to give her some perspective. But that would be so wrong... right?
Go on, Julie, tell us all about molto, molto Mario ;)
Now I'm afraid to go to sleep ;)
of all people, a cook???
When I was preggo I dreamed our daughter was 1/2 pig. She came out with a snout, curly tail and snorting. Everyone around me told me how beautiful she was, and all I could do was cry. "No she's not, she's a pig." I recurred through the last 3 months. Needless to say she's not a pig, and she is adorable. Although she does snort when she laughs.
Hee hee hee. The last line of this post almost made me shoot coffee out my nose! It sounds like the script for a very twisted movie. No Country for Old Bears?.
Of all the Iron Chefs, Mario Batali seems the best choice to me :)(Bobby Flay?...eew) Unless Cat Kora (sp?) is the direction your dreams are going in.
As far as the freak thing goes, even before infertility blindsided us, life for us wasn't easy. My husband used to say "Nothing else for us has been easy, why should this?" I think that ppl that get quickly giddy over anything have just had an easy and sheltered life up to that point, and ppl who take infertility the hardest have never had any set backs. People who plan every step of their lives, and expect everything to fall into place...the perfect career path, wedding, marriage, house, family...are the ones smacked down the hardest when it doesn't happen as they planned. "Why did [fill in the blank] have to happen to us?" Well...why hasn't anything happened to you YET? I think those blissfully naively happy ppl are the freaks, not us. And I'm not wishing a reality injection on those ppl either, who knows? Perhaps they had a really tough life last go round.
Oh, oh, oh God. That was so funny I think I pulled a stomach muscle.
"Oh, and yet another manky-looking stuffed bear, whose identity is not entirely clear but whom I suspect of being Janet's baby daddy."
That line made my day.
I'm a skeptic and, I suppose, a realist.
I'm pretty convinced that no matter how happy and shiny and normal someone appears, that somewhere - perhaps buried much too deeply to even surface anymore in their face or eyes - that somewhere, everyone holds their own deep, long-suffering pains.
I am convinced of this, that this is more the the norm - not a life unexperienced in pain.That anyone appears normal in any condition for even a moment, to me, is worth more than any speech on hope that I could have heard in the past few weeks.
Sorry...just my own little tangent. It's March, and I'm just starting to feel hopeful again.
Some peppermill lore:
Next time you're in italy, refer to the peppermill as "the Rubirosa." Porfirio Rubiorosa was a famous race car driver and a jet-setting man about town of the early 1960s. He was known as "Rubirosa the Hosa" and "Tourjours Pret" (always ready) by his many fans. He died in a car crash and t has become commonplace for Italian waiters to call the extra-large kind of pepper mill "Rubirosas" in his honor.
I think Jozet is right. When LMM wrote about the women in the waiting room, 20 weeks pregnant at her first OB visit, I thought about my sister-in-law, who didn't see a doctor until 20 weeks because she didn't have health insurance, whose husband was so upset about her being pregnant just six months after the birth of their (unplanned) daughter, that they weren't even on speaking terms with each other. My sister-in-law didn't have to spend her life savings to get pregnant and she might not have had nightmares about miscarriages (indeed, there may have been days where she secretly hoped for one - she never said so, but given how bad the situation was, it wouldn't shock me), but we all have our crosses to bear, and the person who seems "normal" may be a freak in their own right.
Wow Julie, you made that matted drifter sound pretty appealing, lol.
Have a wonderful trip with your ever adorable Charlie.
Sue B.-
I just had a conversation along the general lines of "too much knowledge, too much certainty, way too soon" about her daughter who told everyone she was pregnant as soon as the dipstick turned pink...only to lose the heartbeat at 8 weeks and have to get a D&C.
We both agreed that the new tests tend to freak too many women out because the tests say "yes" way before nature is done saying "No!".
We're a long way from the days when I remember my mother very firmly stating that NO baby shower should ever be thrown before the sixth month "just in case".
Me? I think I won't even tell my husband until AFTER the third month....and the in-laws after the fifth just to make sure every thing's set in good and tight before everyone knows. (hey, I'm a big girl and the in-laws are on another coast- think I can pull it off?).
You can never have too much olive oil, pregnant of not.
Julie,
I have been reading your post since I found out I was preggo with #2, almost 4 mos ago. I have not had the struggles with infertility that I have read about on your blog- despite a tipped uterus, vaginal scarring and polycystic ovarian syndrome. I got pregnant on the pill- both times. Baby one was 8 weeks premature. When I got pregnant this time, the doctor said it would be "an act of God" if I made it past the three months. So I began reading your blog to prepare myself. We have made it to 15 weeks, and doctor is no more optimistic. I cannot seem to bond with baby 2, but reading how real you are in spite of your difficulties has given me hope. Keep writing, Julie, you keep me sane.
Oh, and about Mario, I wish I dreamt about him. Last pg I seduced Santa Clause. Thats right, big belly, white beard and all. I didn't just sleep with him, I SEDUCED him. Ew.
Thank you for your blog.
"...a wild-eyed matted drifter with a wicked honey jones." I am cracking up.
To Eliza--you are right, Sanjay is HOT!