When you sit in the first meeting of your Chemistry lab class, and write a blog entry longhand…you might be a blogging addict. Or just really bored. Or both.

The following post was written out on notebook paper as I endured the first evening of my Chemistry class two weeks ago.

He’s the instructor you dread. CHEM 100, basic Chemistry. Remedial chemistry, honestly. You try not to think of the stereotypes, but you can’t avoid it. He’s short, rounded, and balding. Large glasses, oversized t-shirt, loose jeans, tennis shoes, and a high nasal voice. Worst of all: an unbridled love for chemistry, and he expects you to be just as in-love with it also.

“Don’t think you’ll be getting out of a lab early. We’ll be here the full 4 hours each time.” Oh God. You must be trying to torture me, small man. He practically bounces with joy as he opens the glassware cabinet and explains 250 mL beakers, Erlenmeyer flasks and graduated cylinders.

I had expected to get out of class early tonight. It was the first class, first lab, and the only thing listed on the syllabus was an orientation and a safety talk. I figured we’d be here an hour, maybe an hour and a half tops. Cordy was left with her grandpa, and I promised him I’d be back to pick her up before bedtime. Oh how wrong I was.

The IOD (Instructor of Doom) took 2 hours just to show us each item we’ll be using in the lab. I really didn’t need a ten minute explanation of the purpose of a medicine dropper, or 25 min. on the basics of the metric system. My mind was already wandering before he got to discussing the Bunsen burners. (And for the record, if you’ve lost me when showing off fire, you’re really dull.)

I completed the safety quiz while he talked, even though we were supposed to answer it after viewing the safety video. “State one rule about Bunsen burner use.” Uh, don’t set you lab partner on fire? “State one rule about appropriate dress for the laboratory.” Oh, I know this one: no mini-skirts – they’ll make geeky instructors sweat and steam up their goggles. “When should you mix chemicals?” When they involve soda and rum?

After I finished the safety quiz, I started working on next week’s lab, and after that I took out my notebook and started this blog entry. Yes, officially, I am blogging in Chemistry class. Would that qualify as an answer for, “You know you’re a crazy blogger if…”?

After the 2hr. object demo, we then had to go through the rules of the lab in slow, painful detail. Just when we thought we might be nearing the end, we were subjected to a circa 1989 high school safety film for chemistry lab. Oh, if only I could have snapped a picture to show you the big hair the kids in the film were sporting! I think the girls’ hairspray consumption was far more dangerous around a Bunsen burner than anything I could possibly do.

I’m not a horrible student, I swear. I wish I could be interested in what he’s saying, but it’s so basic it’s boring me to tears. Remember my post about being bored in elementary school? This is worse. Thanks to the wonders of college bureaucracy, I must take this class before I can take the Organic Chemistry class I really need for my nursing program. I’ve been out of school for more than 5 years, which at this college requires an automatic placement into CHEM 100, despite my pleas that I know this subject well and don’t need this class. There is supposedly a placement test, but I have yet to get a return call or e-mail from anyone who knows about it.

So, I’m forced into this class, and I’m bringing you all along for the ride. Besides, finding the humor to pass along to you just might keep me sane.

See? Offline blogging, driven by pure boredom. I feel bad for my fellow students, who had nothing else to fall back on when sitting through that nightmare. I had my second class last night, and we completed two lab experiments. I fully expected that this would be a one-time offline blogging experience, but after class #2, I now have another hand-written post for you at some point.

It has officially reached 2nd Circle of Hell hot and humid here in Ohio, and the forecasts call for it to be somewhere near the 7th Circle of Hell hot by Sunday. And with a car with no air conditioning (Aaron’s car has A/C, but mine is broken), it limits what you can do. So we haven’t done much.

I could bore you with one of those, strangely long, “I can’t think of anything to write today” posts, but instead I thought I’d share some pictures of how we’ve been spending our summer days.

First, a few weeks ago we spent a lot of time at Com Fest. It’s the yearly community festival held over a summer weekend, and it’s one of the biggest parties in town. Lots of hippies, lots of music, lots of social action groups, and lots of breasts (because it’s legal to be topless in Columbus). Aaron’s parents help organize it (hippies), and by the number of pictures Aaron’s dad took of Cordy, you’d have thought she was a celebrity.

Next, on days like today, there’s nowhere else to go except to water. Luckily, Mommy off the Record gave us a fab tip on a cool pool from Target. Today we invited Cordy’s friend B. over to play as well.


And, if it’s too hot to do any of that? We stay inside and dress up.

More to come tomorrow, when I will finally post my first handwritten blog post. I just started a new quarter of classes, and let’s just say Chemistry lab was so boring it made me blog on paper during class.

Do you believe in astrology? I’ve always been a half-hearted believer. When I was younger I’d take the time to read my daily horoscope in the newspaper, just to see if I was supposed to have a good or bad day. Usually at the end of the day I’d think back and laugh at how nothing it predicted came true. Either that or how vague some horoscopes were to make them always true. You will have an eye opening experience today. I did wake up, so I guess that counts as eye-opening, eh?

My horoscope was always difficult to figure out, too. I was born on the summer solstice, which also happens to be the cusp between two signs: Gemini and Cancer. (Interestingly, Cordy was also born on a cusp.) Now, if you know anything about those two signs, you’d know they were as different as, well, air and water. The Gemini profile is a party girl, outgoing and sharp-witted, always up for late night drinks and socializing. Cancer, on the other hand, is a shy, introverted homebody who would rather be alone with a good book than anywhere near a party.

So what does that make me? An extrovert who likes to stay home? An introvert who really wishes she could get out more?

I’ve started to realize that maybe there is something to this astrology. No, no, I’m not rushing out to buy incense and a copy of my star chart. But I do have this strange dual-personality that often tears me in two directions. I am a homebody, and I do tend to be shy at first. But I also look at those outgoing, don’t-have-a-care-in-the-world people and wish I could be like them. And once I get warmed up at a party, well, I can really talk your ear off.

I somehow got the courage up to join a sorority in college. And in that sorority, I was deemed one of the quiet ones. I politely declined the annual pilgrimage to Mardi Gras, I was always one of the first to leave a party, and frat parties – oh, frat parties – well, let’s just say I was a bundle of nerves when dragged to those.

But yet, when it came time for Sorority Rush, when hundreds of new freshman were making the rounds to hopefully be picked to join a sorority, I was the one my sisters pushed to the front when it came time to greet each group of girls that came to the sorority suite. Why? Because in those painfully small 15 minute meetings, I could somehow find common ground with every single girl, and by the end of that 15 minutes, we were all chatting away like old friends. (Note: Normally, these sessions are downright dreadful, and can often result in a cluster of girls staring at each other with nothing to say.)

To be honest, I have no clue how I did it. I guess being put in an awkward situation, forced to converse with a group of strangers who were judging you as much as you were judging them somehow brought out my inner extrovert. It’s as if I was backed into a corner by hungry lions, and somehow miraculously developed the ability to be a liontamer. And after each session, I was exhausted from my brief time as The Girl Everyone Could Talk To.

So I guess I am a mix of Gemini and Cancer. I’m terrified of meeting all these fabulous women at Blogher, and then finding out they’re all so much cooler than me and hiding in my hotel room the remainder of the conference. (After all, I’m practically a midwestern farm girl compared to all these glamorous East and West coast bloggers!) But at the same time I’m so excited at the chance to meet them, that I will certainly screw up the courage to talk to everyone. I can only hope that if I am a bore, someone will please shut me up, especially if I’ve already consumed alcohol. Because with a drink in me, I can talk for hours.

I was never skinny to begin with.

My weight went up and down like a yo-yo, starting way back in junior high. As a child I had that tiny, cute belly of “baby fat”. As puberty hit, that little belly didn’t go away, but at least was overshadowed by hips and breasts.

In high school, I got lazy, and also became a comfort eater. I went on a weight-loss system and managed to get back into the 150’s. (I’m 5’7″ – had I only known then that 150 is a good weight to be at!)

In college, the comfort eating, combined with poor sleep habits and drinking, led me to my highest weight of 245 lbs. When I graduated college, I decided I’d had enough of being fat, and I started to work hard on my weight. Of course, being a starving grad student helped a lot (can’t eat junky fast food when you can’t afford it!), but I also took up a dance class and watched the pounds fly off. At my wedding, 5 years after I graduated college at 245 lbs., I was a very decent 170.

Despite all those changes in weight, my body stayed the same. Some parts got bigger or smaller depending on where I was in life, but there wasn’t much overall change. That little belly from my childhood was there – much larger at 245, but small and barely noticeable at 170.

Then motherhood hit. When I got pregnant, my weight had already creeped up to 190. But I kept it under control and only gained 20 pounds for my pregnancy. Wait, that’s not quite honest – being sick all the time kept it under control and I only gained 20 pounds. The picture to the right is me a week before Cordy was born. I was all baby at that point.

In the days that followed my c-section, I thought a little about my body and what changes I should expect. I figured that other than a bright new scar at my panty line, my body should bounce right back, right? After all, my weight had been much higher in years past, so this should be a breeze. And also, I was breastfeeding, which had helped friends of mine lose all kinds of weight. I wasn’t expecting 170 again right away, but I had hoped to be back to 190 soon.

Oh how wrong I was. Here I am, 21 months postpartum, still weighing what I weighed at 9 months pregnant, and my “little” belly is not so little. I see the looks from people when I’m at the playground. They chat with me, notice I have a toddler, glance at my belly, but aren’t quite sure whether or not I’m pregnant, and so choose not to ask. And thank goodness for that.

I still look 6 months pregnant. My belly, which had some tone to it before, now has nothing and just hangs there limply. My beautifully defined waist has vanished. I had braced myself for the lower belly apron that many women complain about after a c-section, but it was my upper belly that came as a shock. I try to suck in my belly as hard as possible in public, but it’s as if the belly isn’t even connected to the muscles underneath – it laughs at me and sways as I walk.

Via Blogging Baby over the weekend, I found this site: The Shape of a Mother. I think I’m in love with the creator of this site. The Shape of a Mother is a blog that encourages women to send in pictures of how having a baby has physically changed them. (Go on, go have a look. I’ll wait.) Looking through the pictures of how motherhood has permanently altered the bodies of these women, I nearly cried in relief. I wasn’t alone! Other women have battle scars of pregnancy, and not just stretch marks!

I don’t have a lot of close mommy friends, so I don’t have a lot of reference as to how a body changes after pregnancy. My best mommy friend was one of the exceptions: after two children, she’s now two sizes smaller than she was before having children. I’m very happy for her, although insanely jealous at the same time. (Judith, if you’re reading this – I really do love and admire you!) The only other before-after pregnancy pictures I’ve seen were of actresses and models, who, as we all know, aren’t really human, or at least have enough money to schedule their tummy tucks during their c-sections.

But this new blog puts it out there in all its un-Photoshop’d glory. I want to thank these women for showing me that I’m perfectly normal, and for having the courage to put parts of themselves that aren’t often shown on the internet for all to see. And while I am still uncomfortable with my belly, at least I know I’m not alone. Although I will probably be wearing my Higher Power Spanx at Blogher every. single. day.

What about you? How has motherhood changed you physically?

Today was Aaron’s first day at his new job. He had to get up earlier than normal to be there by 8am (an hour earlier than the old job), which left me on my own with Cordy for the morning routine. No big deal, really. Especially since she gave me the beautiful gift of sleeping until 8am.

As expected, in learning more about the job today, there were some up and down moments.

Up: The pay is better than his old job!
Down: They hold paychecks back two weeks, so no first paycheck until the first week of August. Ouch. July is officially sucking.

Up: 2 weeks vacation (same as old job), but also 4 personal days and 2 weeks sick time!
Down: Can’t use vacation for the entire first year.

Up: Better, cheaper health insurance!
Down: Insurance doesn’t go into effect until Aug. 1, so we’d better not get sick this month.

Up: They may be raising the pay for everyone there soon. (Which is above and beyond regular raises.)
Down: We’ll need it to pay for parking – the job is downtown, in the land of “Nothing is free.”

Luckily, all of those down points are temporary ones. Aaron spent his first day knee deep in papers. Not paperwork – newspapers. Part of the job involves scouring the newspapers for topics related to the agency and clipping them, and well, the job had been vacant for months, so there was a lot to catch up on.

Aaron would also probably tell you two more down points that are annoying but he’ll get past: first, it’s a dress shirt & tie environment, so no more going to work in jeans and t-shirt. Second, this bump up to a higher dress code also means shaving everyday. Now, I generally wear capris in the summer to work, but I still don’t shave everyday. Luckily the hair on my legs is light in color, so I can get by a few days. But Aaron is Mr. 5 o’clock Shadow at half-past Noon, so shaving every day will be necessary.

He’s also not sure how strict they are on the No personal use of the Internet rule, so he’ll have to wait and see if he’s allowed to check his personal mail at work or not. Ah, new jobs – they’re like first dates. You have to carefully feel the other person out to see just how far you think you can go. Hopefully for him, this new job will at least put out to 1st base – Gmail and Yahoo mail, and maybe even go as far as 2nd base – blogs and message boards.

Tomorrow is orientation day, so we’ll find out more about his benefits at that point. Until then, he’s still happy he left his old job, and he says the people at the new job are really nice, and many seem to have young children as well. Maybe we’ll make some new parent friends?