PSA: Instagram

Public Service Announcement: I started an Instagram account.

Ok, so you don't care. But I feel that I should explain my reasoning.

My reasoning: Baby photos.

Doesn't really sound like me, does it? So I have friends (or at least "friends") on Facebook who have babies, and I actually really enjoy watching them grow and seeing cute pictures. I probably started enjoying that, oh, about the time my pregnancy test came back positive. Otherwise, I don't think I cared. I don't remember, apparently I was a different person then.

I tell you, being pregnant changes your brain. I would say "in a good way," but being pregnant, I'm also not sure I'm qualified to comment on that. I just started an Instagram account, for pity's sake.

Anyway, I want to have photos of my baby and have that sort of record, but we are in the digital age, so probably not the traditional photo album. That's a lot of work, what with taking the photos, editing, printing (ink costs!), and then actual cutting and arranging. Let's be honest: I'm not going to do it. Back in my parent's day, they developed film and the like. You could see the progression in effort as well. Firstborn had the biggest photo album, second was slightly smaller, third, smaller, fourth, smaller yet.

So digital. I can't promise the albums will all be consistently sized as I am not much of a photographer, but I do have a cell phone camera. And now an Instagram account.

Anyway, as far as digital goes, I discovered I really didn't want to share all that on Facebook. I know most of the people I'm "friends" with, but that doesn't really mean they're the type I really want to bombard with baby photos. Watch those few plead in vain for "belly pics." I don't do that.

And privacy. Some level of security. The Internet can be a scary place.

So a private Instagram account. Where I can choose my followers and have a digital chronological record of the pictures I take and post. Apparently, there is still some effort involved, but I am trying to do better about creating records and I am preparing myself for a stage of life where time passage is inconsistent and memory is tricky. Best I start recording things.

So friend me, or follow me, or whatever the terminology is for Instagram. I might approve you, if I know you.

Or I'll completely forget. Scrapbooking isn't really my thing.

Safe Search for Self Esteem?

I was trying to find a gown for labor, one that opens in the front with buttons, is long, and has short or no sleeves. Not seeing what I was looking for on the image search, I Googled "swimsuit cover ups."

Now I feel fat.

Tropical Smoothie Cafe

Let me let you in on my most recent addiction:

Tropical Smoothie Cafe

They cropped up on Lincoln Way right next to a laundromat, surrounded by cheap restaurants that I normally do not patronize. It's like the greasy part of Ames' food market with a Culver's, Little Caesars, Taco Johns, Dairy Queen, KFC, Burger King. The nice restaurants are either on Duff or elsewhere, but few in this area. There was a Long John Silver's, but that went out of business. Me and Ames KFC don't talk. I mean, the last time I went to a KFC in Ames, it was the one up at North Grand (long out of business) and the experience was bad enough I never went back. I only go to KFCs on road trips, outside of Ames. Anyway, you want good fried chicken, you can go to Pizza Ranch and also get pizza and cactus bread.

So I wasn't sure about some smoothie place. I mean, we had a Coldstone and an Orange Leaf. But I noticed because it was right there on Lincoln Way and the logo was eye-catching, bright and trendy on an otherwise greasy street.

And then I started hearing about it. Apparently they had food. And the Assistant City Manager said that he introduced his wife to it and now they might have to take out a loan to support their food habit.

So I went once with David, his brother, and his brother's girlfriend. It was bright and cheerful on the inside as well, despite the fact they're right on Lincoln Way, I don't really notice on the inside. And they have food. You don't really know from the name, but they do have it and I thought it was pretty good, things fresh like tacos, salads, sandwiches, flatbreads, wraps. I got a half-a-sandwich-half-a-smoothie combo, which seems a good way to go. You can also add a smoothie on to a meal for three dollars (normally five).

They have so many types of smoothies, and a bunch of supplements you can add, things like vitamin c, immune complex, probiotics, protein. They have a smoothie happy hour, 7am to 9am if you like smoothies for breakfast, it's 50% off.

I thought it was charming the first time, but not anything to write home about.

It's within walking distance of City Hall. And for some reason I went back. And it started to grow on me. I wanted to take my mom, it's the type of place I figured she'd like. The food isn't greasy or heavy, the atmosphere is upbeat and bright. Being there makes me think of spring (seeing as how we just got to the end of winter. Hopefully). They play Bob Marley music. The food and smoothies are really fast.

I always get the flatbread Baja Chicken (hold the peppers) and add on the Avocolado smoothie. I love this meal.

Mom wonders how anyone can drink a 24oz smoothie by themselves. We usually split when she's there. Well... maybe I'm just Superwoman.

At my birth class group, Tropical Smoothie Cafe was brought up, and the instructor was enthusiastic to say the least. She had cards for their text club, which I hadn't joined yet because I figured it would only make it more tempting.

I was right. I joined the text club and instantly got a coupon for one smoothie at $1.99 for a 24oz, expiring the next day. That's 60% off!

I took a break that afternoon. The Avocolado smoothie is avocado, lime, coconut, spinach & kale, and pineapple. I was suspicious at first, since avocados are suspicious, but it tastes amazing. And I like to think that I'm getting my baby healthy things, like coconut, omega 3s and healthy fats, iron and greens. It just happens to also come in a tasty tasty green package.

Have I said enough on how much I love this place? What am I going to do when I don't have a job?

Oh the conventions you'll go...

This last weekend was the Republican District Convention. We foolishly made it a family affair, as Dad, Uncle Dean, David, and I were all delegates. Carpool! We spent the car ride up discussing the platform. I am more or less indifferent on the platform, as when I am not a delegate or voting in the caucus, I tend to not be a Republican.

I'm just waiting until this delegate business is over and I'm switching my registration back to NP. I think that means No Party, but I could be wrong. It's whatever party you get when you say you aren't part of a party.

Could I be part of the Libertarian Party? Well, yes, but I think libertarian ideals and philosophy stand by themselves, and having a party subscribes to their version of it and I don't always agree. If the party ever gets big enough to be a threat to our two-party system, maybe I'll reconsider.

The convention was at a high school. I always look around to take in the foreign sights. High schools look just like the movies!

Anyway. The guy credentialing us, or giving us our name tags, whatever, commented jokingly, "If you go into labor, do it quietly." I stammered that I had no intention of going into labor. Apparently, sometimes when people don't know what to say, words still come out. Also, that makes second person who knew without asking I was pregnant. I really must be showing these days.

We had folding chairs this time. A downgrade from the cozy theater seats from the county convention. Also unfortunate is that apparently some people from the last convention were also delegates.

One guy in particular. He's the guy who proposed in the county convention to replace the party platform with the junior delegate platform. We thought it was a joke, but actually had debate about it, I think because a bunch of us wanted to forgo the platform discussion. But the discussion on that took way too long for what most of us considered a joke.

So anyway, this guy had his moustache waxed into points and was wearing a suit. But he's the type who talks out loud, loudly, talks to and looks for approval in anyone who will listen to him, and argues points of rules just to win, not because he cares. Kind of reminds me of that guy from The Island who tried to calculate the lottery winnings. This guy also would not pay attention, and then assume that he didn't know something because it wasn't said, not because he missed it.

And then, in a move that made pretty much all of Story County facepalm, he recommended we replace our platform with the junior delegate platform.

A bright spot in the day was the chairman, Matt Windschitl, apparently a state representative. He had this great deep voice, efficient command, and enduring sarcasm. "Is that a serious motion?" He asked. "You seriously want to replace the entire platform with the junior delegate platform?"

Some bozo seconded it, but thankfully, nobody spoke for it. It was voted down with a resounding no.

Moustache guy was heard saying loudly something about how the junior delegates were the future of the party and we should honor them. David tried to talk him down, telling him it was an admirable sentiment, but probably not the right move. Unfortunately, moustache guy now knows our faces.

Another highlight was clickers, those little electronic remotes that can record and post responses from a lot of people in a matter of minutes. We only had to take one paper ballot, which took us like an hour and had the ballot counters threatening the county heads that they would have to read their own county's handwriting next time.

Moustache guy asked loudly what amendment we were voting on, and was about to call "point of order" to ask. The woman the row behind us was trying to get his attention to explain and when he started talking, she audibly smacked one hand on the other. I think the rest of Story County was losing patience as well, with one gentleman commenting to moustache guy's neighbor that he needed to "reign in his dog."

I got to see what Trump supporters looked like. Oddly enough, they look like Trump. Or act like him. The guy selling t-shirts gave off a used car salesman vibe, and one of the women running for delegate yelled "Trump Trump Trump!" while pumping both fists into the air at the end of her speech.

Someone called the people voting for Cruz supporters (informed by text messages) sheeple... Look, I'm not here for democracy, I'm not here to "represent the district, " I'm here to win. I think anybody following Trump is a sheeple. So just tell me who to vote for to get Cruz. I can't soundly vet everyone in a two minute speech, so I rely on someone else who supports Cruz to do it.

And that's another highlight: I think we won this round.

Shows Me

You know how you always see how other people manage their pregnancy/finances/children/spouse/lives/etc and say to yourself, "Pft, I'd never do that." "That's silly."

I wonder if that makes God laugh or He's bored of that one yet.

I have a few to add just from being pregnant.

Pregnant girl at deli while placing order: Well, I'm pregnant, so...
Me thinking: Pft. What does being pregnant have to do with delis? I'm not going to be so particular when I get pregnant.

Turns out, listeria. Apparently pregnant women are more likely to contract listeria and it can have harmful effects on the baby. I found this out after I mentioned that I asked my mother-in-law to bring a bottle of merlot to the hospital and another woman said she asked for a Jimmy John's sandwich.

"What? Why Jimmy John's?"

She hadn't eaten deli for nine months.

Me later: And, could I get my sandwich extra hot?

I just finally explained it to the deli guys (who had heard of it before) that I wasn't just being really picky/weird. They hadn't known I was pregnant because there's a wall between us that comes up to my chin.

By the way, heating pre-cooked meat until steaming makes it safe.


Pregnant girl: After the glucose test, I couldn't get him to calm down!
Me thinking: Pft. What are you going to do to calm down an unborn baby? Sing to him? Rock him?

And then, some other time, you find me rocking my hips, singing "Rock me mama like a wagon wheel..." to my belly. Or wrapping an arm around it because Genevieve doesn't understand the idea behind bedtime and I can't sleep.


Pregnant girl: Usually, it only takes me ten minutes to get ten kicks on my kick counter, but one day it took closer to an hour. I was worried, but thankfully we had an appointment that day.
Me thinking: Pft. He's moving, isn't he? Clearly still alive.

Me a month later: Ginny hasn't been very active today. I mean, she has the hiccups right now, but she hasn't been moving as much as the day before. I hope everything is all right...


Pregnant girl: My baby loves my yoga practice, I can feel him kicking and moving with me.
Me thinking: Why does him pummeling the sides of your internal organs indicate a preference for yoga? Maybe he's moving because he hates yoga... Seems silly to assign preference to someone who can only express in unseen flailing.

Me later: She stops moving when I sing. Maybe it calms her down. Maybe she likes it?


Maybe being pregnant has finally crept up and infected my brain?