My parents had a rocky start with Captain Sarcastic when he was first brought around to them. I had waited for them to meet each other until I was inclined to think my relationship with CS had some potential future. My parents are very “old school.” CS is very, well, sarcastic. This is not a good blend. Even I had enough sense to know this new beau I was so into may not come off so kindly in the eyes of my folks.

After some time, however, introductions were made and CS began accompanying me to family gatherings. At one such gathering, my parents were barbecuing at their home. At some point, CS and I were in the kitchen along with my mother and one of my brothers and a couple of my nephews. CS asked for mayonnaise to put on his burger. My eyes shot to him–I had forgotten to warn him what would come of such a request.
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The one thing I get told over and over being pregnant is, “Enjoy your sleep NOW.” Then there is usually a knowing snicker. This statement makes me grind my teeth. As it is, I am a very light sleeper. If the cat jumps on the bed, it wakes me up; if CS snores, I’m awake; and these days I don’t make it through a night without having to get up to use the bathroom at least twice; in which case I am up. And once awake, I stay that way for a good two hours. So it seems I never get enough sleep.

Last night, for example, I went to bed at 10pm, but did not fall asleep until around 12:30. I awoke at around 4am and did not get back to sleep until around 6am. I usually get up around 7ish, so I thought I’d use that extra hour to sleep instead of just getting up early. The next time my eyes opened, it was 9am. Yipes! I am usually at work by 9. Dammit. So now I am running late because I “over slept” when in fact I feel I did not get enough sleep.

I LOVE to sleep. It’s right up there with eating and drinking. And yet, these days, I feel I barely get a visit with the Sandman before I am jolted back to this world. And the worst of it is that when I lay awake in bed, my mind starts to tick off the things that worry me–things that don’t REALLY bother me during the day, but in the dark hours of sleeplessness, they take root.

So, Sleep, I beseech you, come to me these last weeks before Sun arrives and completely pushes you out of my life for God knows how long. Do not forsake me. I need you; I miss you.

Nine weeks. That’s the time I have left to become “ready to be a parent.” Whatever that means. I’m fairly certain I will not get there in time. Why is this? Here’s five reasons:

1. Today I noticed Peanut playing with a packet of butter. When I questioned CS about this (he was in the room when it started), he explained she’d found it under the sofa. I THINK it is from the baked potato I brought home last week.

2. I am FLIPPED out that Sun has not “flipped” yet. Apparently she’s breech. And though she has plenty of time to flip, I feel I have failed her already in not producing the hormones that would encourage her to have moved head down yet. Or maybe it’s because I don’t sleep on my side as much as I should. Or don’t exercise enough. Oh, the guilt!

3. I am even more freaked that she’s small for her gestational age. My interpretation: I am not nourishing her well. They doctors (yes, plural) say she is at an acceptable weight, but if that is the case, why do they tell me they’d prefer to see her at 50% rather than 32% (and what is this a percentage of? Wouldn’t a good parent know??)

4. Our nineteen item to-do list still has nine items on it. And new items seem to get added to it weekly. CS assures me that not all items will get done but we’ll be ready. My response? “You are right; with that attitude, things will NOT get done.” UGH!!!

5. I think Sun’s ultrasound photos look like zombie-babies. I’ve never heard a normal mother describe her baby’s ultrasound pics to include the word “zombie.” Normally, mothers are gleeful and teary-eyed upon seeing these pics; that is not the case with me.

Maybe it’s me that needs the nine weeks to “turn,” and not Sun.

Jenny over at Ab Ban tagged me for this meme. The idea is to describe what I want to be like when I am an old woman. After having given this some thought, the answer became very clear to me: I want to be like my mother’s mother, Sunshine (for whom Sun is being named). My grandmother was not a perfect person, but she was the perfect grandmother. And what I remember most about her was her smile and her sense of humor. She was NEVER afraid to look unattractive, and, yet, she always strove to look her best.

Here’s a picture of her on a trip she took with just the girls. That’s two things I want to do when I am old: travel and have awesome girlfriends.

Here’s a picture of her doing something that always impressed me–floating with a beer on her taut stomach. She loved to swim and she loved the family fishing camp. That’s two more things I want to do when I am old: own a vacation home and relax with cocktails.

My grandmother was born on leap day and would say that that was the cause of her feeling so young all the time. She lived life like a woman much younger than she was. She was also slow to anger and quick to forgive, loved playing cards, and was not afraid of a challenge (like attempting home-made wine). I aspire to have all of these qualities. Maybe I can start working on some now, before I am an old woman.

CS and I have a friend that loves New Orleans the way a football fan loves his favorite team. She’s OBSESSED with the city. You rarely see her not wearing a JazzFest shirt, NOLA t-shirt, or NOLA jewelry. And her knowledge of the history of the city is far-reaching and often obscure. She’s a great wealth of NOLA nostalgia.

Years ago, I overheard her at a party telling someone that a certain site was on the Usta Tour. I had no idea what she was talking about so I joined in the conversation to find out. Turns out, our friend personally gave what she dubbed the “Usta Tour.” She’d take folks to sites and locations that “used to” be there but are no longer. This would include restaurants, bars, hotels; locations where notable New Orleaneans spent their time or got their musical starts. Some locations are still intact and just housing newer enterprises; some are completely gone.

Now, with Katrina, seems half the city could be on the Usta Tour. And unfortunately, our friend’s house was severely flooded in Katrina–she is not yet back in her home. Katrina affected her terribly, and she is still reeling from it. I am afraid she feels her former life could be on the Usta Tour.

What made me think of our friend’s tour was that CS and I joined friends for dinner last night at Fury’s. I ordered the crabmeat salad. It was good–lots of lump crabmeat. But the romoulade dressing was thick and tangy–not at all to my liking. And it only served to remind me of the best crabmeat salad I’ve had in the city–at a place called Barataria Restaurant in Lakeview. Their salad had lump crabmeat over slices of fresh, cool creole tomatoes topped with a delicate dressing. It was awesome! This restaurant closed before Katrina and would now qualify to be on the Usta Tour. Dang it.

As I previously wrote about, I used to follow a band. Religiously. This was during my days in law school. It was what kept me sane. Before one of the songs, the lead singer used to recite this little intro he’d come up with. I heard it so many times, I involuntarily committed it to memory. Just what I needed–useless gibberish taking up real estate in my brain when I needed all available space for the legal stuff I was needing to learn.

Somewhere along the way, I decided to put this information to use. I decided that if I ever got a question on a law school final that I truly had no answer for, no idea where to even begin, then I’d give the professor this intro. In the end, and with no intention of the outcome, this gave me strength. As the semesters wore on, I found I had at least SOMETHING legal to write about on my finals. And I graduated with never having written it on any final.

But damned if that intro isn’t still committed to my memory over a decade later (don’t ask me the elements for aggravated rape, though; that is LONG forgotten). And it’s still never come to any use. Until now. You see, I have nothing of interest to write about. So I’ll give you this useless information that I have held in my mind all this time:

I have stumbled to the ocean; I have staggered to the sea. And I still don’t know much of nothing, but what was is just what was and is and what can.

Useless, isn’t it? Maybe you can find a good use for it. And maybe now I can forget it.

CS and I went over to a crawfish boil being given for his friend who’s getting married in two months. I was reluctant to go and be the only chick. But seems the groom wanted to see my belly for himself. As we are heading out the door, CS grabs his “guitar.” I put the word in quotes because it’s his guitar from Guitar Hero II. Now I could spend this whole blog on CS and that damn X-Box game, but I won’t. Suffice to say he LOVES it and is totally addicted. I find it amusing to watch him “play” for about 10 minutes, then I am good for a long while.

Turns out, you can have two players on the game–one playing bass, the other guitar. So once we get to the boil and are settled in, the boys plug in and start “strumming.” I held on as long as I could but after about an hour of seeing this, I had my fill and left (we had the foresight to drive separately).
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Captain Sarcastic returned to JazzFest for his fifth day today. This resulted in me holding down the fort at our small business. This is really enjoyable to me and I had no complaints. Although I DID forget this rather large obligation when I made a hair appointment earlier this week. So, okay, sue me; I had to leave the business for a couple of hours. Yes, the haircut only took about an hour, but nearby was the dry cleaner and knitting store and it just made sense to run all my errands once I was out in the area anyway.

Toward the end of the day, CS called to check in. He always teases one of our employees as he leaves him alone not to burn the place down. So when CS called, we (instigated by me) told him that there had been a small electrical fire. “Was there damage?” CS asked. “Well, yes; there was smoke, then sparks. So we called the Fire Department. They showed up and they didn’t use water but that white foam stuff to put it out. The carpet’s messed up and whatnot.” Nice and vague, I thought, he’ll never believe me! “Well, I am leaving JazzFest anyway and will be over soon,” he replied. I had fully intended to tell him I was teasing before we hung up, but he sounded so unconcerned that I thought either he knew I was lying or he truly was not too concerned.
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Looking for something to do with the young ones today? Like comics and “funny books”? Then today is your lucky day! Comic book stores around the country are participating in Free Comic Book Day! For children of all ages and for the child in you, do yourself a favor and get to your local comic book shop and join in the fun!

There will be Archie, the Peanuts, Transformers, Spider-Man, Justice League of America, and so much more!! Even if your child is too young to read, there will be things for him or her–check out “Owly“; it won several cool awards last year and is really fun for young children.

Our local store, BSI Comics, will be having other freebies offered, a live pod cast, as well as Star Wars Storm Troopers on site for pictures! Check out what YOUR local store is doing! It is sure to be a good time.

In July 1900, a census taker reached a small rented home in Galveston, Texas—a mere three blocks from the Gulf of Mexico. This was the home of my great-great-grandparents. That census taker learned that the couple had seven children, six still living. My great-great-grandfather, August, was a day laborer, and my great-great-grandmother, Katherine, was a laundress; their two daughters worked as spinners at the town rope mill. Their children were: Annie, age 16, Emma, age 14, Willie, age 13, Adolph, age 11, Albert, age 8, and Henry, age 4.

Two months later, Galveston Island was hit with a storm that could not be conceived by the weathermen of the day as the monster it proved to be. Think Hurricane Katrina with no levees and no notice. They didn’t mandate evacuations nor even suggest the storm would be worse than weather they’d had in the past: flood waters in the streets and high winds. The inhabitants of Galveston Island were sitting ducks.

As the storm was breaking down houses, snapping trees, and destroying all in its wake, August and Katie gathered their six children and went to the only safety they could find: a tree. Getting to higher land was no longer an option; it was far too late for that. The couple had their younger children climb up the tree first so that they (husband and wife) would be at the lowest, most vulnerable, point.

As that night of horrors roared on, the family clung as best they could. The flood waters rose and the winds screamed. The family inched higher and higher up the tree. By morning, Emma was left clinging with only two of her younger brothers. Her parents, sister, and two other brothers perished that night. Their home, along with countless other homes and structures spanning along miles near the beach, were wiped away and claimed by the Gulf. All, all was lost.

It is estimated that between 6,000 and 10,000 people died in the storm that night—the highest death toll in America to date due to one single natural disaster. It was a horrific scene throughout all of Galveston in the weeks and months that followed. Emma gathered her young brothers and came to New Orleans to live with their mother’s childless brother and his wife.

That night, September 8, 1900, was only the first of many fatal tragedies my great-grandmother endured in her long life. She died before I was born (a minor tragedy of my life). In looking at Emma’s life, I think of her not as a victim but as a survivor; not as a refugee but as an southerner; not as an orphan but as a mother. I never knew her, yet her strength is in me.

The skies opened early this morning and the rain hissed throughout the day. It wasn’t a hurricane or anything really serious. But the sound of pouring rain always makes me think of that night and my ancestors, and Emma especially, and causes me to shudder.