[I’m Totally Stoked Note from Jodi: The Today Show picked up my post about Roan wanting to get his ears pierced. Look at my name under the hot lights of the Today Show Logo here!]
And Now, Crazy Town:
This weekend I began my countdown. Only 17 days….now 16….now 15….not so much because I’m anxious to have these boys, but because there’s just so much to do! For instance, what would happen if I went into labor, and the hall closet hasn’t been organized yet? What if our returns to Zappos haven’t been processed by the time these babies arrive? Worst of all, imagine if all the umbrellas on the floor of the coat closet are still on the floor when the twins are born, as opposed to being hung neatly on hooks which I’ve clearly expressed my wish to have happen?
The worst kind of crazy is the kind that you can see happening, but have no ability to dilute. Welcome to my special edition/confession of The Jodi Crazy, and please utter a phrase of hope for my poor husband, who in his ever-earnest quest to take care of me during this pregnancy has not complained even once, as I task-master the living daylights out of him. My only consolation? I’m not the only crazy pregnato. This is just what happens, what with some delicate balance of hormones and babies and chemistry and science, we just get like this.
In fact, while Anson was on his 6,932nd chore of the day which took him to a local hardware store, he ran into a fellow father-to-be who in the interest of confidentiality and not throwing this father under the bus I will call “Freddie” instead of Eddie. So “Freddie” was also at the hardware store, buying flowers to plant in his backyard. Anson wouldn’t give up their conversation in full to me but I have a feeling it was one of commiseration, empathy, and camaraderie, as “Freddie’s” wife is due with their fifth (!!!!!) child right at the same time I am. And all my husband could/would tell me was that as husbands of pregnant ladies, who are almost done being pregnant ladies, these husbands agreed that their wives were slightly psychotic. And you know? I couldn’t even get mad at that because geez. It’s true. Can’t get mad at the truth. I mean, I could if I wanted to, because I’m pregnant. But I won’t.
Fear not though, the weekend wasn’t all work! For me, at least. Other than making lists of things to do for my main man, it was all fun and games.
Roan and I went to a fashion show sponsored by the Brooklyn Indie Market, which is run by an awesome woman called Kathy Malone who took me by the hand and marched me to the front of the line for the bathroom when I mentioned that I had to go. Brooklyn Indie Market understands pregnancy, I’m just saying. So they had a Steampunk fashion show. Via Wikipedia, Steampunk:
A sub-genre of science fiction, alternate history, and speculative fiction…in other words, based on a Victorian perspective on fashion, culture architectural style, art, etc. Steampunk is often associated with cyberpunk.
Ya dig? More or less it is just an awesome array of fabulous costumes that I knew Roan would be ga-ga for and as it turns out, so was I. Check out a few snaps:
And the most beautiful image of the day? I came home to a coat closet that looked like this on the door: