Ode To The Tube

When visiting London (and living there for that matter) the Tube is your main mode of transportation. With it's intricate lines of underground railroads, fancy turnstiles that suck-in your ticket and spit it out on the other side, with it's Way Out signs and Bakerloo's & Piccadilly's, it really is an icon of London. It's one of the things that makes me nostalgic for London and want to return. So throughout our visit, I allowed myself to be a super-geek and snap photos of The Tube.

My Hunger And My Tastebuds

I wanted to write a post about my pregnancy symptoms so far, because frankly, there aren't a whole lot of them. And this worries me. I keep wondering if I am actually pregnant. Despite the fact that 3 home pregnancy tests, taken on different days, have confirmed it, I'm still tempted to take one more. The thought that this pregnancy could end prematurely scares the shit out of me. And each day that passes the more scared I become. And this all boils down to my own belief that in this 'wonderful' age of Google, sometimes it's possible to know too much. The thing I find the MOST frustrating, is that according to the searches I've done, I've now learned that PMS, Pregnancy and Miscarriage all have identical symptoms. Abdominal pain, back ache & spotting. Are you kidding me?? Google, you are truly useless. Or, maybe I'm shooting the messenger.


Whatever. Back to what this post what supposed to be about.


I think my taste buds are changing a bit. The other day I was at the mall for lunch and decided to order a Falafel at the food court, because I knew chickpeas had lots of recommended pregnancy nutrients. But when I bit into it, I was horrified at the pungent, offensive taste that I couldn't quite place. The culprit was some purple onions, which I usually LOVE. I choked down as much as I could, but in the end could not finish the falafel. It's going to be a while before I will have the desire to order another one.


The other night I was making spaghetti, with my homemade tomato sauce. I made it the same way I always do, with the same ingredients. Can crushed tomatoes, can of mushrooms, can of lentils, chopped up zucchini with cilantro, red pepper flakes and pepper for seasoning. It always turns out great. But this time, every time I tasted it, it was just so BLAND. So I just kept dumping in the red pepper flakes, until I tasted something.


I went to bed around 9pm (that's another symptom - I'm much more tired and ready for bed at ridiculous times) and Warren was still working. He must have had some spaghetti when he came home because in the morning he said he really enjoyed the spaghetti I made, and thanked me for making it even though he knew I was tired. This is all very typical Warren. Very gracious and thankful and he never comments negatively in any way on my cooking. He's actually quite easy to please, thank goodness. But this time he added one comment. "But boy was it SPICY! I thought my mouth was on fire!" I thought maybe this was because the spices and 'soaked in' more before he ate it, but I've had leftovers the past few nights, and I barely taste the seasoning.


Lastly, my hunger. I'm definitely hungry ALL the time. But not 'I want to gorge myself on steak and burgers and eat a whole loaf of bread' kind of hunger, just constant snaking type hunger. I will eat 3 or 4 small snacks before lunch at work. It's seem every hour I need something, even if it's small. I can't understand how such a little, little person could be demanding so much from me. I suppose it just takes a ridiculous amount of energy for nature to create a little human from scratch.

Yesterday I had my first craving. That was fun, and Kirsty was there to witness it. We were at Eau Claire and she was waiting for her Edo-type stirfry to be ready. When she got her plate she turned to me and noticed an odd/happy look on my face. I just looked at her and said 'I'm going to make Rice Crispy Squares this weekend!'. 'What? Where did that come from" she said, as she laughed at me. Then we started talking about how delicious rice crispy squares are, especially when they're fresh & gooey. That afternoon, on my way home, I stopped at Safeway and picked up a stick of butter, Rice Crispies and marshmellows. The guy in front of me in line said 'Time for squares tonight?' 'Yup, I had a craving I guess' I said.


Now, I only had like 15 minutes at home before I had to leave again. I let the dogs out & fed them and put the butter & marshmallows on the stove, pronto tonto. Then mixed it all up and laid the gooey mess in baking dish. Scooped a few caveman-like handfuls into my mouth, then left Warren a greasy note that said:


"These rice crispy squares are my first pregnancy craving. If you eat them all before I get home, be prepared to DIE". He didn't even remove the saran wrap.

Snorty McSnort Snort & WWRU

(Actual date of events:Wednesday, April 16th, 2008)

Wednesday started off with another errand. Head to Leicester Square to buy tickets to We Will Rock You at the half price ticket booth. Check. Phew. That was a lot of work. So we treated ourselves to a Starbucks. For the first time in my life I ordered a Starbucks TO STAY, and actually drank it out of a real mug and everything. We sat outside at the little cafe tables and people watched while we enjoyed our coffees. Warren took this awesomely cool photo of the Charing Cross Road sign. Coulda been a contender in the Facebook Photo Contest if you ask me.



Next on the Agenda was to head to the Portabello Road market in Kensington. Warren found a store called A-D-A-M that had this sign in the window (sorry the photo is blurry, but my camera didn't want to focus through the glass...)

The market was very quaint, lots of antique type shops lining a long road. It was all a bit touristy & overpriced for my taste though. But, it was Kensington after all.
It was in one of these shops that we encountered the most offensive 'bag lady' I'd ever seen. She had gross long dreads, and she followed us into a store. What made her so offensive was that she kept SNORTING back Flem. Over and over and over. It was disgusting. I swear she was a shoplifter or pick pocket or something, but why she insisted on drawing so much attention to herself was beyond me. We lovingly nicknamed her Snorty McSnort Snort.

Here's a rainbow row of houses.

It was my personal mission to find Warren a 'Jaunty Cap'. The hat you see me wearing in most of the photos is my 'Jaunty Cap'. This term started when a friend of mine commented on 'what a jaunty cap' I was wearing. Everything else soon became jaunty as well... jaunty scarf, jaunty boots, etc. So Warren really needed his own Jaunty Cap.

Turns out that some Jaunty Caps made him look like my Grandpa. So, the search continued...


We ate lunch at the Lazy Daisy cafe.

After the market we headed to Harrods and stopped in at Burberry's on the way. Felt TOTALLY out of place there, with our tourist sneakers and jeans. Oh well. Harrods was different though. It was PACKED with tourists. It was HUGE. It had a sushi bar in the middle of a fish market. It had a CANDY department. It had doormen and fancy washrooms with granite counters. It was something to behold.

Before the show, we freshened up at the hotel and ate at the Victoria Pub near Hyde Park (and our hotel). This pub had the most beautiful 'reading room'. Too bad our basement doesn't look THIS good!

We Will Rock You ROCKED. However, I have to admit I was a little worried when the opening act looked more like a bad Doctor Who episode that took place in the future - or a version of the future that people in the 30's would have imagined. Neon, bubbles, robot dancing. Ya, I was worried.

But I hung in there and WOW. It rocked.

Two Thumbs Up For Decaf Lattes

This morning was my first doctor's appointment. It was essentially to 'confirm' my pregnancy. Warren was able to schedule around it, so he could be there too, because he's awesome that way.


It was fun seeing my doctor, who's been my family physician since I was born, smiling and congratulating me.


This was her first time ever meeting Warren, and when he walked into the room she leaned over to me and said 'You're going to have a HUGE baby'. "Or a long and slender baby" I corrected her. Because Warren is tall and skinny. Maybe she was combining his tallness with my 'full figuredness' and came to the HUGE conclusion, I don't know.


She asked about my last period and how long my cycles are, and then she started using a fancy spinning chart thing to figure out how far along I am, and when I'm due. I knew both those things already though :-)


I'm 5 weeks and a few days, due mid-January. Good times.


Then she started asking about my symptoms, and I told her I am feeling pretty good. This made her unhappy, so I told her about the initial heartburn I had, and that I'm pretty sure I'm more tired, and that I'm also convinced that I'm getting stupider by the day. These details didn't really make her any happier.


"You should be feeling very ILL!" she said. She followed that by saying some women don't get ill, but she still looked worried. "Do your boobs hurt?" she asked. "Not really. Maybe a little". This wasn't good enough for her though.


Maybe I'm underestimating my symptoms, because I was expecting the worst? Regardless, I'm only 5 weeks. I'm sure the worst has yet to come, don't you think?


We talked about where we wanted to deliver (Rockyview), and whether or not wanted the optional ultrasound that screens for birth defect risks (yes).


I asked her about what I can take for pain relief, and I was surprised to hear that early on I can still take Advil. Awesome! I was sad to hear that I can't sit in the steam room when I go swimming though, not even for 5 minutes.


Then she asked if a I drink milk. Warren gives my a hard time for how many lattes I drink, but I still announced proudly "I drink about 1 Decaf Latte a day". And she had a big grin on her face and she gave 2 BIG thumbs up. Fantastic. I will no longer feel any guilt for spending $4 on a latte a day.


Soon came the issue of weight gain, because I asked if I should be ordering my lattes with 2% instead of skim (I thought maybe the baby needed more fat or something). She said "Fat is not an issue in our society. I have never had to worry about a patient NOT gaining enough weight. You can keep drinking skim if you like". So then I asked how much I should be gaining, because I need to fit into a Bridesmaid dress in July, and the dress is already bought, and I don't want to ruin my friend's wedding by not fitting into the dress we all picked out.


She said I should only gain 5 lbs in the first 20 weeks. Shit. I could gain that easily WITHOUT being pregnant. Skim milk it is. I will be 17 weeks at the time of the wedding.


But then she said "Your boobs are gonna get HUGE though" and she started doing a 'boob mime', acting out with her hands in front of her chest how enormous my boobs will be, and making big googly eye faces to really send the message. So I pray to God my boobs don't outgrow the dress. I really don't want to be a Pornstar Bridesmaid, with cleavage and boobage squeezing out everywhere. That doesn't really say romance to most people, and that would be the ULTIMATE pornstar violation.


When it was all said & done, she gave us a big book of info and motioned to the door. "Aren't you going to test me or anything? Or are you just going to take my word for it?" I asked, surprised. "Oh no," she said, "those home test are VERY accurate."


Okey Dokey then.

A Float Down The Thames & Hampton Court Palace

(Actual date of events: Tuesday, April 15th, 2008)

Our first morning in London started will a complimentary 'Full English Breakfast' at our hotel. For those who don't know, a Full English Breakfast consists of:

1) Egg
2) Toast
3) Cooked tomato
4) Ham
5) Brown beans
6) Blood Pudding (this breakfast didn't come with that, which was fine by me).

This was a great way to fuel up for the day ahead.

First things first, we headed to Paddington station to pick up our train tickets to Bath. Warren likes to have all these things sorted out ahead of time. Next on the list was to try and get tickets to a stage play called 'Speed the Plow' starring Kevin Spacey and Jeff Goldblum, that was happening at the Old Vic Theater. Our handy travel book told us that the Old Vic opened at 10am every morning. So we aimed to arrive there before it opened.

When we found it, there was a short line of people waiting outside already, but not too bad. When the door opened and the line moved inside to the box office, we were told that the ENTIRE SEASON was sold out, and that they only had a few 'Standing Room Only Tickets' left. As we debated in line on whether or not we would even want to stand through an entire play, the 2 couples ahead of us got the last available spots. So this attempt was a complete BUST. It was a bit disappointing because I used to have an uber-crush on Jeff Goldblum, but at least we can say we tried.

So what now then? How about an impromptu Boat Trip up to Hampton Court Palace (you know, the one from the 'Tudors'...)!

The boat we ended up on was called the Dunkirk and had an amazing history. It was a civilian type boat that was actually used during World War II to evacuate soldiers who were being attacked at Dunkirk back to England.

It was the PERFECT day for a boat ride like this. The sun was bright, the sky was blue and the breeze was warm. We really lucked out.
Because it was a 3 hour float down the Thames to our destination, the boat was equipped with a snack bar & BAR. One of the things I really wanted to do on this trip was have a Pint on the Thames. Check.

Throughout the 3 hours, the Captain recited all the historical tid-bits as we floated by them. It was extremely interesting and the 3 hours went by quickly. The Dove Pub supposedly has the SMALLEST BAR in the world, with only 2 stools.

After a beautiful trip, we docked at Hampton Court Palace.

We didn't head straight to the Palace, but instead strolled around the little town, looking in some antique shops and had some lunch at a Pub.

The entrance to the palace was huge. We have 2 paintings of Hampton Court in our Pub, so it was so neat to see it in real life.

Inside, many of the old rooms were staged to demonstrated what they would have been used for.

Outside, the gardens were immaculate (of course they were, this is England for goodness sake). Yes, that's me under the tree!

The Royal Tennis Courts were actually being used. I have no idea if they were royalty.

The first of MANY photos of Warren taking photos.
My critically acclaimed 'Flowering Bulbs' photo.

After the Palace tour, on our way to catch the train back to London, Warren bought a soft ice cream cone with a chocolate candy stick, that he used to eat as a kid. Awwwww.
We ended our day back in London and ate a Vegetarian Indian restaurant that our Travel Book had recommended. The food was great, but the service was absolutely atrocious. It's funny now, to think that the service was SO bad, we actually took the time to make sure we noted that in our travel journal :-)

Mother's Day 2008

Sunday seemed like the perfect time to tell our families. It was Mother's Day, and we had Brunch planned with Warren's parents, my Mom and my Brother. And then a BBQ at Donna & Gary's in the evening.

Our new, improved 'written' idea was to buy some sort of baby item, like little booties, and put them in a box with a note. So off we headed Saturday morning to The Bay to look for said baby item. The moment when I picked up a pack of little green booties, and a little onsie to get Warren's opinion was priceless.

Amanda: (holding up booties & onsie) Which of these do you think would work best?

Warren: (Silence. Eyes getting slightly wider. Silence.) Wow. Reality is REALLY sinking in right now...

He eventually pointed to the booties. I agreed with his selection.

Cut to Mother's Day Brunch at Melrose on 17th. We're all done our first 'round' of the buffet.

Amanda: So, do we want to open gifts before heading back up?

We hand out the 'decoy' Mother's Day gifts to be opened first...gift certificates, DVDs, and Bath stuff. Then we pull out 2 boxes and place them in front of each mom.

Amanda: Okay, so, they are both pretty similar and they kind of go together, so you need to open them at the exact same time.

Our moms then pulled off the ribbons and lifted the lid. They both took a moment for it to sink in, then, almost in perfect unison, their eyes and mouths drop wide open. And the misty eyes. And the high-pitched squeals.

I felt a sudden, uncontrollable wave of emotion, and I began to weep. Warren wasn't far behind. With all of crying tears of happiness, we stood up and hugged. It was just AWESOME. And lots of fun. Adam gave me a hug too and the feeling was just so great. Everyone was really happy & excited and I was so pleased the plan went so well. They were the first people we told, and it was much more emotional than I had expected.




After Brunch, I headed to Chinook to go Bridesmaid Dress shopping with my dear friend who's getting married in July, and my other dear friend who is a fellow Bridesmaid. Warren & I knew we weren't ready to spread the news that far yet, so I had to keep the secret. Which I actually had no trouble with at all. I always thought that when I got pregnant I would want to scream it from the rooftops, but that wasn't the case at all. I did, however, pray to God that whatever dress we ended on would have some sort of empire waist, because who knows what kind of bump I may have in 2 months. Is it a bad idea to start doing sit-ups when you're pregnant?

After dress shopping, it was off to Donna & Gary's. We had kept the bootie-in-a-box so that we could follow a similar plan. The entire family had a fabulous reaction. Warren's brother (Gary) had a big grin on his face, but was in total shock. Our nieces & nephew were thrilled at the idea of having a cousin younger than them. Our niece Bridget said 'This is the best gift ever. I hope it has really fat cheeks!'.

After the BBQ, we headed up to my Dad's house under the guise that 'we had another cool gift to give them from Paris, because Amanda is an idiot and forgot to bring it on Friday'. I thought it would be totally suspicious that we were driving all the way up to their house on a Sunday night for this reason, but my Dad & Pamela where totally clueless.

My Dad, Pamela, James & Kayley all sat together on the couch, and we gave them the box. Luckily, my Dad decided to be the one to take the lid off.

Dad: What? No. Really? No way! Really? REALLY?

Then the misty eyes, the hugs, the kisses.

Dad: I guess I'm gonna have to come over and help you put together that crib (years ago him & Pamela gave us their crib to 'store' for when we had kids).

Again, SO FUN.

Today was a whirlwind of awesomeness. We are so blessed.

Telling Dad, Take #1

Coincidentally, on the same Friday that we took the home pregnancy test that turned up POSITIVE, my Dad had invited Warren & I over for an impromptu dinner. 'We have to tell him!' I kept insisting, but Warren was hesitant. We were both still in total shock, feeling kind of awkward. Like, are we supposed to act differently now? It was hard to know what to say or do, because this really mammoth thing had just happened, but yet, nothing had really changed in that moment. Yes, big changes were coming, but in that moment the only thing that had really changed was that I was holding a little white stick with 2 pink stripes in my palm. We were still getting used to the idea ourselves, so how could we possibly be ready to tell anyone?

But I was thinking 'It's a sign! He asked us over on the same night we tested. We need to tell him!' Since he was my Dad, it was ultimately up to me. So Warren was willing to go along with my plan.

This was the Plan:

Give Dad & Pamela the souvenirs we brought back from the trip, then say 'Oh, and we brought back one more thing, but you're going to have to wait 9 months to see it'. Easy!

What Actually Happened:

Give Dad & Pamela souvenir.

Amanda: Says nothing.

Conversation shifts to the movie Juno, babies, etc.

Amanda: Says nothing.

Conversation shifts to Mother's Day plans etc.

Amanda: Sweaty palms. Says nothing.

Conversation has long, empty pause.

Amanda: Takes 'fake' sip of wine. Says nothing.

Needless to say, my 'Operation Tell Dad 2 Hours After We Found Out' was a BUST. I totally choked. Walking out the car at 11:30pm, we both look at each other and say sarcastically 'Well that went well'. It was all a bit anti-climatic. But we justified it, because really, we were still letting it sink ourselves. We decided then & there that we needed some sort of WRITTEN way to tell people, because I clearly crack under pressure.

The Test

Warren has obviously been in the loop that Aunt Flo is late. I loved the 4-5 phone calls a day where he would ask 'Any Aunt Flo yet? No? Really? Well, how are you feeling?' It was nice to know he was obsessing nearly as much as me (my obsession took the form of 8-10 bathroom breaks a day, checking for any sign). With the 'don't get our hopes up' rule in place, I kept telling myself I probably just miscalculated, and the Silly Witch was going to surprise me at any moment. After 3 days of waiting though, we decided Friday would be the day we test, if there was still no Aunt Flo. That would be Day 4 of being late.

Well, Friday at 5pm, still nothing. So Warren picked me up and we stopped at Safeway to pick-up a test. Warren was more comfortable with me going in alone, which was fine. I just giggled at him. He is so cute when it comes to these things.

The Safeway we went to was on 4th Street & Elbow Drive. A very dangerous Safeway for me to perform 'Operation Pregnancy Test' because of the extremely HIGH likelihood of running into people we know, especially family members. So I didn't have the luxury of lurking around, analysing the benefits of each test. I had a mental back-up plan though. If an in-law where to suddenly pop out from around the corner, I would grab a Monastat-5 and pretend I had a Yeast Infection. Yes. Perfect Plan.

Eventually I picked up the First Response 2-Pack. I knew no matter what the result was, I would probably want to test again in a few days. It was $20 for 2 tests. When I went to Pharmacy counter, this was the conversation:

Me: Do you have anything cheaper?

Young Pharmacist: Well, there's the Safeway Brand.

Me: Hmmm. Would it be same sensitivity?

Young Pharmacist: Ummm...well they're both accurate.

Me: Ya, but are they both SENSITIVE. You know, to detect low levels...

Young Pharmacist: Looks at Amanda blankly.

(I read on the Internet that the sensitive ones could detect pregnancy even if your pee had really low levels of the pregnancy hormone, but this girl had NO IDEA what I was talking about. Then a MALE Pharmacist comes over, who was equally confused by my question.)

Me: Oh, I'm sure this one will be great, thank-you.

Young Pharmacist: So, do you want to be pregnant?

Me: Yes!

Young Pharmacist: Well, this is a very good test. Good luck!

We didn't take the test immediately because I didn't have to pee yet. So I went downstairs to watch TV and drink water, while Warren continued working upstairs. About 45 minutes later I come upstairs.

Me: I have to pee.

Warren: Okay, go for it.

Me: When I say when, you start the timer on the computer. It says we should check the result at 3 mintues....(pee...pee...pee) Okay, now!

Warren: Kay, the timer is going!

I'm in the washroom, staring at the test, to make sure it's working. White, white, white...About 15 seconds in, the pink line on the right appears to show that it's working. But, it's accompanied by a very clear SECOND pink line on the LEFT. I continue staring. I come out of the washroom to see Warren staring at the timer.

Me: Kay, look at this.

Warren: We're only at the 35 seconds!

Me: It doesn't matter, look!

I hold up the test. I see his eyes looking at the result, then the diagram on the left that says II Pregnant, I Not Pregnant. The result window has a clear II.

It clicks.

Me: Do you know what this means?

Warren: We're...pregnant?

Me: Yes!

Hugs, kiss, Hugs.

These are first things he said:

1. My boys can swim!

2. Now I need to start reading up on how to be Dad, because I don't know how to do that. Yes, that's what I need to do.

3. Oh - we're at 3 minutes.

Letter To Paris Baby, #2

If my calculations are correct (and it's possible they are not), then Aunt Flo is approximately a day and a half late. In the past, she's been fairly reliable. On the pill, I could predict her arrival to date & time, give or take a couple hours. Then, off the pill, it was shaky for a month or so, but then back to nearly the same reliability. It will be a CRUEL coincidence if the first month she decides to be late also happens to be the first month I'm paying close attention in the hopes that you, Paris Baby, are growing in my belly.

I'll give her 2 more days to show her ugly face before taking a home test.

If she does show up, she's gonna have some 'splaining to do.

Shawna, I Appologize

I am disappointed in myself. I really wanted to make sure I kept everyone's attention by posting fabulous new photos everyday - because really, I can't expect you all to care about my holidays for too much longer. And I still have 9 more days to blog about!

But, my first attempt resulted in waiting a long time for photos to upload, only to get an 'ERROR' message 3 times. I didn't have the energy to continue.

Then, yesterday, I geared myself up to try again, and this time the photos were uploading, but it was very SLOW. Then, at a certain point, I realised I wanted to steal some of Warren's photos, but he hadn't uploaded them to our computer yet...

Not to mention that I then have to WRITE stuff.

This is a LOT of work. I am trying my best, honest!

A Letter To Paris Baby

Dear Paris Baby,

First of all, I guess I should clarify one thing. You were not neccesarily conceived in Paris. You may have been conceived in London or, maybe even Bath. It's difficult to know for sure. So, maybe a more appropriate name for you is European Union Baby. Or EU Baby for short. But, I like the sound of Paris Baby, so I'll stick with that for now.

There's maybe one other thing I should clarify before I move on. There is a good possibility that you don't even exist. Which would mean the title of this post should be A Letter To Non-Existent Baby. Which would also mean, I have officially gone insane. So for the duration of this post, I will pretend you do, in fact, exist.

Warren & I (Warren is your Dad, but he's still Warren to me, so I will still refer to him as Warren, but I just want to make sure you understand who this 'Warren' guy is) have been talking about starting our family for a while now, but we decided our trip to Europe would be the official kick-off. I know you're way too young to understand the complexities of a woman's reproductive system - trust me - I barely understand them myself - but all you need to know is that the timing of this trip fell right on the 'perfect' time of my 'cycle'. Hopefully that's not TMI, but you're the Fruit Of My Loins for goodness sakes, so if I can't talk to you about these things, who can I talk to?

Needless to say, Warren & I were quite excited and delighted with our luck, because I seriously can't remember the last vacation we took where Aunt Flo didn't come along (you don't really have an Aunt named Flo - I'll explain another time).

Back to the complexities yada yada that you're to young to grasp yada yada...we are now back from this trip to Europe, but there are still a few days before we will know for sure if you exist. About 3 or 4 days ago, I was getting the bloated, back pain, crampiness that comes a week or so before Aunt Flo arrives. This was a bit disappointing. Having never been pregnant before, I have no idea if it's normal to experience PMS symptoms before a missed period. So, I told Warren (and myself) not to get his hopes up. But, today my 'symptoms' have felt a tiny bit different than I remember. They feel lighter, weaker, mixed in with the oddest 'fluttering' feeling - kind of like a tickle. I know the most likely explanation is wishful thinking, but a part of me is holding out hope.

I am not a superstitious person, so I have no problem writing to you about these things. You should know, some women won't so much as look at a cute onesie on sale if they are trying for a baby. But, here I am. I'm either writing to an unfertilized egg about to be washed out of my system just like every other month, or, I'm talking to a microscopic mass of cells that will someday be YOU.