Mom and Dad: 1/2 Josh: 0 Ducks: -1

We had a contest of wills last night at the dinner table. I'm happy to report that while Mom and Dad cannot claim complete victory, Josh did not walk away with any points.

The initial problem is this: I was tired of feeding Josh from baby jars. The food was expensive and it was about time he learned how to eat real food like the rest of us. I can't remember when exactly this was, but then I wasn't very consistent with making him eat a portion of the main course and so he spent a year just picking off his plate what he wanted to eat. Basically, this consisted of the bread product and the least healthy option being offered. In esssence, my kid was being sustained by potato chips, bread, and the occassional spoonful of applesauce.

I realize this is a problem in a lot of areas. Most notably, the vitamin deficiency arena. And every parenting magazine has these cute little articles showing you how to get your picky eater to eat. The reality is that I don't have the time to cut my sandwiches and vegetables into cute little shapes. Nor do I have the ability. Or the desire. I just want my child to eat something from his plate that's preservative free and natural in color. (i.e. Mac and cheese is not a natural product because nothing in nature comes in that color. Ditto for blue kool-aid. Chicken nuggets may not be all meat.). In the course of the last year, I have gotten him to branch out to diced ham (like they serve at salad bars), taco meat, croutons, eggs, pizza, cheese, and pbj sandwiches--sometimes.

I set down some ground rules from day one though. I don't make a separate dinner for him. If he's not going to eat what we're having then he can go to bed hungry. However, I found that he wasn't eating dinner, but snacking with us while we watched tv. So, a win-win situation for him. We tried to limit our snacking to after he went to bed, but then we have the whole bedtime saga I've mentioned in previous posts. This results in us having to sneak food to the tv or the bedroom because he's still awake.

Alas, here we are. He's 3 1/2 and not eating. I've tried asking nicely, but Mrs. Nice Guy is done. So last night, Baby Elephant--Josh's beloved stuffed elephant that goes everywhere in the house with him--went up on top of the kitchen cupboard.

And his yellow blankie went on top of the fish tank. All he had to do was eat a piece of sweet and sour chicken. Not a big piece: Just a mere taste of the chicken. He wouldn't even taste it if he popped it into his mouth and swallowed.

But nooooooo. Do you think he could do that? We spent the entire dinnertime cajoling him to eat the chicken. He ate the rice. He drank the kool-aid. But no act of war was going to get him to eat that tiny piece of chicken. Even after I scraped off all the offending sweet and sour sauce.

We even tried to bribe him into eating it, telling him only those who ate their chicken were going to be able to go to the duck pond to feed the ducks. Then, after Wade and I were through with dinner, we took Baby Elephant and the yellow blankie with us as we pretended to go to the park. We locked the front door and started down the sidewalk. Josh figured out how to open the garage, and so what the neighbors saw were two grown adults--one 7 months pregnant--carrying a stuffed elephant and a yellow blankie hightailing it to hiding spots. And then a screaming three year old. We emerged feeling slightly humiliated and spent.

Needless to say, our threats feel on idle ears. And so the next best thing--bedtime. If he wasn't going to eat his chicken, he was going to bed. So I removed all toys from his room, stripped him down to pajamas and left him in there--at 7:30. By 8:00 he was asleep. Hungry, but asleep.

So 1/2 points go to us as parents because we didn't back down, he went to bed at a reasonable time, but he didn't eat his chicken. 0 points for Josh because he ended up in bed with no dinner and no Baby Elephant or yellow blankie. -1 points for the ducks because they didn't get to eat dinner at all because one little boy wouldn't eat his measly piece of chicken.

Tonight on the menu--stroganoff. This should be another fun night.

Half-Framed

Yesterday, my twin brother came down and helped us (read: Wade) start framing the basement. They were able to get most of the half with the bedrooms framed. There's a lot more to do on that side then on the other side with the family room, so it's an accomplishment to say the least.


We woke up this morning, after deliberating last night about what to do about the shortened door heights, and decided that since we're not munchkin size, we will probably spend the remaining time in our home hating ourselves for lowering all the door heights to go around the duct work. This means that some doorways are going to have to be moved to accomodate this new realization. Which means a lot of extra work. No one likes that, but I'd rather we did it now then spend x amount of years wishing we would've just done it.


Here are some pictures of our progress thus far:

Our first framed wall. YAY!

My brother and Wade hard at work. Too bad you can't see their faces. :) That would be the result of my awesome photography skills. Good thing I have this useful almost-degree in mathematics in case we need to rely on my marketable skills to put food on the table and I won't have to resort to taking pictures for a living. We would definitely starve if that were the case. Now, we'd just be wanting something besides bread and water but at least we'd still be alive.

The finished product--somewhat. It's hard to get a picture of the whole half of the basement and then for whatever reason, the camera is tilted (no, our house does not lean downhill). So this picture doesn't do the rooms justice, but it was the best one I could get.

Our next task is to move the bedroom doorways and then finishing the framing around the duct work. I keep telling people that I would like to have the basement done by the time baby comes, and I always hear a snort coming from Wade's side of the room. I'm slowly coming to terms with the idea it's not going to be done by then. But, on the bright side, at least I'll be able to help with some of the later parts--like painting and finishing work--if I'm not nine months pregnant.

A Snapshot of My Brain

The following thoughts fleetingly entered my brain today at some point:

• What is this guy talking about? (During lecture today, although, sadly, it could relate to a lot of things.)
• Why can't someone just tell me--in words I understand--who and what we're exactly bailing out and why?
• Does Josh have an off button?
• My mom left a message on the phone with the word "freakin" in it. Creepy.
• Would it be better to have an athletically gifted child or an academically gifted child? Clearly, the sensible answer would be academically gifted, but that itself poses problems. If I had to choose a gift, what would it be?
• How is it that I could drive home in my non-air conditioned car when it was 100+ degrees this summer and still feel like I'm cooking when it's only 82?
• I have spent six years lamenting the fact that we didn't put a garden tub in our bathroom. After spending an hour in one this afternoon at my mom's, I realize now that I'm not missing anything. Good thing we didn't move for that garden tub.
• Why is it that I'm going to have to pay for other people's stupid mistakes?
• We're framing the basement tomorrow. YAY!
• We'll finally have an office and an exercise room. Both with doors that close. Maybe they'll even lock. How nice will that be?
• I haven't been able to catch up on my shows on TiVo--and we don't even have cable--but yet, I've watched every Barney episode that has come on in the last six months.
• Why is it that an oreo cookie amasses to more chocolate than it originally started with once it's in the hands of a three year old?
• At which point does the word "mommy" not invoke shuddering and make me tense up because it means that I have to translate one more demand that is unreasonable/incoherent/tiring.
• How many more times can I pick up the same toys and put them back in the same bins before I go beserk and start chucking them at the cats?

Book Review Friday, 9/26/08

Book: The Last Lecture
Author: Randy Pausch
Pages: 210

I was orignally going to review a different book this week, but after reading this one this afternoon, I thought it was so touching that I'm going with this one.

When a professor leaves an institution or retires, he is often given the chance to present a "Last Lecture" where he instills, one last time, in peers and students anything he chooses. When 47 year old Randy Pausch. a computer science professor at Carnegie Mellon University, is diagnosed with pancreatic cancer and given 3 to 6 months to live, he truly prepares for his "last lecture". He wanted to leave a legacy behind that would live on long after he did. And with his last lecture he did.

I originally saw Randy Pausch on Oprah, where his recorded last lecture was played for the segment. It had me in tears by the end. His optimism and his instruction on how to live a fulfilling life was inspiring.

I had originally thought that the book was just going to be a printed version of the lecture, but it turned out to be so much more. He really delves into the subject matter--How to Achieve Your Childhood Dreams--with antecdotes and bits of wisdom from his own life.

The most profound thing about Pausch is that he is an ordinary person who didn't do anything that extraordinary in his life. But, he led it as though he did. He was eternally optimistic, though admits that there were moments after his diagnosis that he was on a pity train. No one can fault someone in that kind of situation if they spend some time bemoaning themselves. What makes Pausch unique is that he was able to rise about his pity and focus on the things that really matter--his family.

Pausch worked endlessly in his final months to ensure that his wife and three young children (6,3,1) would remember him and be sure of his love for them--and it was this last lecture that he left as a legacy to his children. He wanted them to achieve their childhood dreams as he had in his shortened lifespan.

The last few chapters of the book were incredibly hard to get through and it was made worse by knowing that he passed away in July of this year. At the time the book was published, though his prognosis was dim, he was still receiving treatments and holding on to the small chance that something miraculous would happen. However, knowing the odds, he was also preparing for his death by leaving letters and mementos for his children so they would know him as they got older.

The lessons learned in this book are profound and serves as a reminder to us all that you truly choose to be happy, whatever your circumstances. The advice dished out was relevant and certainly time-honored and I left the book a better person because of it.

The world is a bit better--happier, calmer, smarter--for having had Randy Pausch in it for the short time he was.

Book Review Friday 9/19/08

Book: The Stay-At-Home Survival Guide
Author: Melissa Stanton
Pages: 385

I have a confession. There are times--minutes, hours, days--where I don't particularly love being a stay at home mom. GASP. I know. It's a meaty confession, but I feel so much better now that I've let it out. Inside, I know that I'm doing the right thing with this choice I've made, but there are times I wonder if I'm going insane or if I'll ever be able to exercise my brain again.

My mom picked this book up at the library for me, and I realized in the first 20 pages I should've read it about 3 1/2 years ago. All this time, I've felt guilty for these inner feelings that don't quite coincide with what I perceived around me. I felt like I was the only one who--while I enjoy going to the park and walking to Maverik with Josh--was so frickin' bored with the daily monotonity of motherhood. The other night, while reading the same book to Josh at bedtime that I've read a bazillion times, I had to physically keep myself from screaming. And it's not the first time I've had to restrain myself. All this time I thought it was just me, but it's not. And if nothing else, I'm glad that burden has been lifted.

While the book is geared more towards women who have left lucrative, career jobs, most anyone could find something useful in this read. It's nice to know that even CEO's, doctors, and lawyers are giving up their careers to stay at home with their kids. One thing I really liked about the book was that it was 95% women who were at home without any outside help like nannies. It made it a little easier to digest knowing that they were in the same boat as me.

While there was nothing earth shattering new in the book, it was nice to see that I'm on the right page. Make friends, have passions outside of child-rearing, make sure that you're taken care of should your husband die or become disabled. Education. And above all, know that it's okay not to like your "job" 24/7 nor do you have to feel inferior because you're "just a mom". Those validations alone made the book worth the read.

I wish I could buy a caseload of this book and hand them out at baby showers for first time moms. I really could've used the advice in here about 3 years ago.

One friend, who is nearing 65 and stayed home with three boys, put it best when she said "looking back on it, I'm glad I did it. I'm glad I stayed at home to raise my boys. But, when I was in the midst of it, I didn't like it all that much and I spent a lot of time at church feeling guilty for it. I would imagine more women felt that way then felt that this was the best times of their lives and we should've been more open about it."

The Side Benefits of Going to School

• What else would I do with those 2 1/2 hours that Josh is at preschool and there's no Barney, Diego, or Word World in the background. Silence is overrated anyhow. And I do enjoy taking a very cranky three year old to Walmart, so why deprive me of that joy?
• I'm showered at 8:30 am instead of 5:30 pm when Wade is about to walk through the door.
• It's easier to justify a midafternoon nap when you wake up at 8:30 instead of 11:00.
• The 10 minute walk from my car on South Temple to the math building is exercise I should be getting anyways. Bonus that it's uphill.
• I enjoy being ogled at like a freak show side exhibit. Haven't you ever seen a pregnant person before people? This is Utah!
• I clearly understand I was wrong when all this time I merely thought getting a math degree was a bad idea. Now it's become a certainty that getting a math degree was a bad idea.
• Baby is especially active during the class. I personally think it's a misguided attempt at getting the...very...slow...monotone....voice....to....quit....talking....but I can at least dream that she'll be a math whiz. Perhaps she'll turn to me one day, when she can finally grasp the ideas floating around in her head, and say: "I don't know what it is, but I really find probability interesting."
• The 10 minute walk back to my car is, again, exercise I should be getting anyways. It's nice it's downhill.
• There are many different ways of returning to my car. I like to try a different one every day and pretend I'm a paranoid spy that has hitmen after me so taking the same route would only clue them in on my normal routine. Also, I like to see if I can shave a couple minutes off every day. It's a throwback to my 5k racing days. Try to improve on my time every day.
• Since I don't have a working FM radio in my car, I get to listen to talk radio. Rush and Doug have become familiar companions on the long drive to and from campus.
• People watching is especially interesting in this arena. I've seen it all these last two weeks. Capes, leather jackets in 90 degree weather, girls teetering down the sidewalk in shoes obviously not intended for campus wear, a guy in class that wears a purple t-shirt with the arms cut off over a white t-shirt EVERY DAY--with varying colors of shorts. And these people are looking at me like I'm the freak?

Three Months and Counting

Today officially marks the three month countdown to when this baby is suppose to be born. Maybe a few days before or later, but for all intents and purposes, three months from today I'll finally be able to sleep on my stomach again.

So a few things I want to do in the next few months while I whiddle away time before baby is born:

• Teach Josh how to sleep with the light off. We've been lenient in allowing him to keep the light on when he goes to bed. If we turn his light off when we go to bed and he wakes up in the middle of the night, he freaks. Then I'm too tired to care, so I turn it back on. We had at one time taken the light bulb out, but that seemed mean and (more importantly) inconvenient, since the room was rendered useless after dark. So, what to do, what to do? I'm thinking of putting in a dimmer switch, but then he'll just learn to turn it back up. So I guess we have to do it the hard way. Turn it off and punish him if he turns it back on. It's heartbreaking to listen to your kid screaming because he's scared, and really what's a light, but I'm afraid he won't grow out of this phase. Besides it's contributing to item number 2...
• Teach Josh to go to bed at a reasonable time. There was a time (long, long ago) where Josh would go to bed at 8:30 pm and wake up at 8:30 am. Now, it's anyone's guess. Part of the problem is us. We're not consistent with his bedtime. Part of it was summer. It was still light outside and so we'd go take walks or play outside until 9:30. Part of it is that in finishing the basement, we had to move all his toys from the hall closet to his bedroom to make room for stuff from the basement so now there's a constant stream of interesting stuff to do when he should be sleeping. Of course, part of the problem is the light fear mentioned above. In the big scheme of things, does it matter? No. But last night it was well past midnight, and Wade and I were trying to sleep, but "baby elephant" was sad and the duckies were crying and there was a lot of noise coming out of one little kid's mouth and that's not going to be good when baby #2 joins the club. Besides, I need that time to myself or to spend with Wade. And Josh is getting more and more sleep deprived as the days go on.
• Fine tune on paper my triathlon training plan for the triathlon I'm planning on doing in April. I did have four other ladies all gung-ho to do it with me, but something tells me I may be the only one at the starting line. I'm determined to do it, but I need to do some more research and get it all down so when I get the go ahead to exercise I know where to start.
• Finish school. It's hard to get superly involved in your very last class-especially if it's been a year since you've taken one and the teacher...talks...like...this...about...exciting...subjects...like...probabilty. I need to buck down and just fly through so I'm not sitting on pins and needles for my required grade. There's no excuse. It's the only class I'm taking so I should have plenty of time to study for it, right? If only he taught it in English...on a side note, I had a hard time explaining to another guy in the class--who coincidently has three kids of his own--that my belly was not the wrench in the plan, but rather this class was. He thought I was brave for coming to school in my "condition". I've gotten use to the stares, but they haven't seen anything yet. It's only going to get bigger and better in the coming weeks.
• I have to have Christmas done by Thanksgiving--at the latest. This will be the hardest task to complete because I'm notorious for waiting until the last possible minute to do my shopping. Good thing there's this little thing called internet to aid me in my procrastination.

There seems to be enough on my list to keep me busy but that doesn't change the fact that I'm done being prego. This is a strange feeling because with Josh I was beyond freaked out at this point in the pregnancy. I was willing time to go slower until that last month when I would've pulled him out myself if I could've. I told my doctor this morning that pregnancies should speed up the more you have. She just laughed. But she's not the one six months pregnant.

Book Review Friday 9/12/2008

Book: The Next Thing On My List
Author: Jill Smolinski
Pages: 288

For once, I wasn't disappointed in a book that I had looked forward to off the Reader's Choice list from the library. I really enjoyed this read. It was fast, easy and entertaining. The author didn't have to use pretentious words to make us aware of how vastly smart she is compared to the rest of us and the writing was infused with a sly sarcastic humor that I enjoyed. I felt like this could've easily have been be in the story, making those same snide remarks.

June Parker finds a list written by Marissa after Marissa is killed in a car accident while riding with June. Having only met her briefly at a weight watcher's meeting and offering her a ride home on that fateful day, June embarks on a life changing mission to complete the items on Marissa's list "20 Things To Do By My 25th Birthday". Though June is about a decade older, she's whisked back to a time in life when these things mattered and in the meantime finds everything she's been looking for the last 10 years.

Being a list person myself, I was enthralled from the synopsis given on the Reader's Choice list. I loved how random some of the items were; dare to go braless, get on tv, eat ice cream in public. Things that you want to do, but dare not put on a list less someone finds it and reads it out loud. I remember the year I was turning 26 and I had never been to a movie by myself, so I went. I don't know what's held me back all these years--the public shunning that I couldn't find a friend to go with or the desperateness that going to a movie by yourself in the middle of the day seemed to signify in my mind--though there were several of us people there stag--but it was liberating to finally do it. I have a few things I want to do before I turn 30 and I want to try something every year, but so far I'm a little behind on this year. I have yet to pick something.

I would certainly recommend this book. It got me thinking about the things those around me want to accomplish and how much fun it would be to take on one of their "lists" just to expand my horizons a little bit.

Feeling a Little Hostile

I got a bill in the mail today informing me that I owe IHC $218 for them to run tests to determine that I don't have any STDs. Yes, that's right. $218 for them to tell me something I already know. Thanks.

Which, after doing the research, brings me to why I'm feeling hostile. For the two years that Wade worked for IHC, we paid them $120 a month for the privilege of paying all our own medical bills. That's right. All of them. They covered absolutely nothing for us. We just wasted...wait, let me calculate...$2880 in healthcare premiums for the right to just pay the clinics and the doctors ourselves. I know that had we gone in, said we would pay in cash as we were leaving, we would've paid a heck of a lot less than what we did. Mind you, this is the biggest health insurance company in the state. You'd think that they'd at least treat their employees a little better.

Of course, had something castastrophic happened in the last two years, we would've been grateful for our health coverage. But, since nothing did, I'm feeling a bit upset. Especially since reading that economics book about health insurance. I see where we're failing as a country in this department. I've witnessed it. Don't get me started on Medicaid. But something needs to be done for those of us in the middle class that are responsible, working adults paying for our health insurance plans and getting totally gipped.

There. Now I feel a lot better. I'll get off my soapbox now.

A First for Us

We've been married for seven years. In those seven years, we've NEVER bought new furniture. When we got married, my parents "gave" us the bed and bedroom set that had been in my room at their house since I was 16. We inherited grandma's old kitchen table and chairs, and Wade's parents gave us a couch. Wade's sister felt bad for us because we didn't have a tv set, so when she bought a new one, she gave us her old one. It sat on the floor unplugged for three months until September 11. Then we plugged it in so we could watch news coverage.

One Saturday morning, some fellow apartment dwellers were moving out of their apartment. Two guys. One was headed back east for school or something and the other one was headed to Italy. They were trying to get rid of as much stuff as possible and they had a really nice entertainment center that fit our tv perfect. They gave that to us for free since it saved them a trip to the DI.

When we moved into our house, we added an old washer and dryer from grandpa, a refrigerator, a twin bed from Wade's parents house, and a couch and loveseat from my parents to our arsenal.

A few years later, my parents were upgrading their bedroom furniture again and so we got our second round of cast-offs. When Josh was coming, our Christmas present from Wade's parents was the crib.

We bought a used car bed for a killer deal off of KSL classifieds for when Josh outgrew the crib and a diaper changing table from the neighbor for a really good price as well just this last spring.

The only appliance/furniture we've bought together as a couple from an actual store is the washer and dryer we replaced 3 years ago. The old ones were both on their last legs practically from the time we moved in, but we eked it out for close to three years before caving. Definitely a wise purchase.

We've been in the market for a while for a new kitchen table, but so far nothing's come up. We keep looking, but we're known at the local furniture store as the people that come in and spend hours talking to the salesmen and then don't ever buy anything. I'm sure they're fighting in the back over who has to come out and help us. It's pretty much a waste of time on their part. Until last night.

Monday, we had returned to the local furniture store in hopes that they'd have the couch we want for the basement. We found the recliners, but another furniture store (who shall remain nameless) in Salt Lake didn't have any couches out on the floor. We spotted it immediately on Monday, and sat down, both of us exclaiming "this is it. This is the couch." The price tag was a slight damper in our spirits, but we weren't looking to buy right away anyways.

So another two hours later, after trying every other couch on the showroom floor, we came to two conclusions. First, clearly we have champagne tastes on a beer budget. There was no way we would ever plunk down that much money for a couch. Secondly, leather is nice. Really nice. And all these years we've spurned away from leather, but I think it was partly because it was so "above" us. How can leather couches be justifiable when you have student loans and such to pay off?

As usual, we walked away without buying anything. But we knew that was the couch we wanted. We would just have to wait until a good deal comes along or we fall into a big heap of cash that's fallen out of the skies. Besides, we had plenty of time. We still have the entire basement to finish.

Fast forward to yesterday. After watching the BYU game at a virtual stranger's house (will...not...give...in...to...cable...) with Wade's brother (Go Cougars!), we stopped in at the clearance center for the aforementioned store that shall remain nameless (mostly because I don't want to give them any more advertisement. I don't like them on principle, but as with most principles, my dislike can be suspended for the right amount of money). We just wanted to check if by some chance they had "our" couch in the scratch and dent area. And lo and behold, there it sat. Leather and all. We poured over the couch to see what the obvious scratches and dents were, and while they were there, they weren't noticeable except to those who knew. An hour and a half later, we were the proud owners of a new couch and matching loveseat. We got both for less than we would've paid for just the couch new from the warehouse, an almost 55% savings off of the couch we fell in love with on Monday.

Of course, there's no where to put our new couches, so we've had to rearrange everything to fit them in the living room for the time being. But we watched a movie last night to try them out and they're perfect. I can see why people go into massive amounts of debt to buy new furniture.

Now, if you'll excuse me, I have some reclining to do before church starts. :)

Book Review Friday 9/5/08

Book: Crunch; Why do I Feel So Squeezed?
Author: Jared Bernstein
Pages: 218

This was a truly nerdy economic book that I had high hopes for. Initially, I was elated. Finally a book that would answer my questions without sounding condescending or inducing sleep. And it lived up to this expectation for a while. But then, it started to fail. It got boring. And it helped a lot that the author paraphrased the answer to each question in a one to two sentence "crunchpoint" at the end of the chapter that aided in finishing the book fast. No need to read the author's ramblings. Just flip to the crunchpoint and get the answer.

The most interesting section in the book was definitely the section on healthcare (cue: snores). It shed a lot of light on a subject that is certainly hot right now. And finally someone could explain it to me so that I actually understood. Of course, no solutions were really mentioned, but now I have a slightly firmer grasp of what exactly is wrong with our healthcare system and it actually made sense.

My biggest complaint of the book: I had thought that the author was unbias politically, but it became quite evident that was not the case. If I could, I'd like to caution people who want to write books that will stand the test of time and become pieces that are referred to in different generations: stop writing stupid and pointless attacks on the current Bush administration. We all know that things could probably have gone better, but in 50 years, no one is going to understand your little jabs. No one will get your sarcasm. No one will care. And that could very well be the reason your book won't be used to uphold economic principals. Too much criticism of one president's term in a succession of corrupt politicians. Give it a rest.

There, I've said my piece. Perhaps, if you were to read this along side an interesting fiction piece and not try to digest it all in one sitting, it'd be a tad bit more interesting.

How Perseverance, Luck, and Mighty Mouse Almost Won Me My Math Degree

I thought the gods had spoken and there were no options left. I was just going to have to suck it up and drive 45 minutes to sit in a 50 minute class three times a week to get my (much deserved and hard earned) math degree. But, last week, a last shimmer of light was shed in the way of a he-told-him-who-told-me kind of fashion. At this point, I'm willing to grasp at anything even close to resembling a fraction of hope, and so--once again--my spirits were lifted.


The story went like this...Nick and Julie met my "last" semester in a study group we had formed from a group of misfits (mainly throw togethers that had bounced around majors and therefore didn't "grow" up with anyone special). All of us, with the exception of Nick and Julie were married and so it just seemed natural that they would start to date each other. They married this last June.

I ran into Julie in my lone class I'm taking this semester. She and her husband are both in the Master's program (clearly, neither one of them had a problem passing the test). I was initially elated that no one knew my "secret" the first day of class, but on Wednesday it turned out I knew two people in the class, Julie and a really good friend from Jr High/High School that I had somehow missed in class on Monday. Julie was at a funeral Monday, but how'd I miss the long lost friend?

Anyways, I was talking with Julie after class in the hall and Nick came up. He mentioned that he had a friend who said that another friend, John, had gone in to the academic advisor with his GRE score. It had said that 8% of the test takers had fallen below him and he argued that technically he was in the 9th percentile then. Makes sense to me because I had lobbied the same reasoning when test #2 came back with the same result, but to no avail. Since this was a new advisor, Nick said that his friend said that John got it signed off.

I was a little skeptical, but it was something. I thought about it overnight and spent some time looking for my long lost scores. The refrain "oh, I won't need these anymore" kept running through my head, but I had to at least try. I didn't find the scores and I almost gave up pursuing this last thread of hope.

Friday, I went to lunch with Julie and Nick and found out a little more about my potentially new BFF, John. Remember the muscle man from test #4? The one who was clearly on steroids and ate through the entire test? And not just soft, nonodorous food like slices of bread and hard candy? Apples, bananas, bagels? Yeah, that's John. And that little tidbit was the clencher. I would fight tooth and nail to get my degree on a technicality if he got his. He was the reason I didn't pass it the 4th time around. When your six weeks pregnant, the last thing you want to smell in a three hour test is food.

And so there I was this afternoon. Standing outside the academic advisor's office. I doned a tight shirt to show off my expanding belly and dragged a very reluctant three year old. I was putting it all out there on the line and daring anyone to step in my way.

I opened with "I came in to see you and the dean in June after receiving notification that I had not passed the GRE test yet again. We discussed several options and decided that taking one more class would be the best solution. However, rumor has it that someone passed through with an 8 on their GRE test."

"Not true" she replied. "Someone came in last week and tried to pass it on a technicality, but it was a bad interpretation of the score. He's not graduating. Funny how these rumors get started."

"Yeah, well, it's a small group of people in the math department and word spreads fast. By any chance was this guy small with unnatural bulk?"

"Yes."

"Ah, I see, because he was the one who ate through the entire test and irritated me to the point that I didn't pass it and if he graduated on that technicality, then I'm here to be offered the same leniency. I'm six months pregnant and I've been done with coursework for a year and a half. The last place I want to be is here. I live 30 minutes from campus and I have to park a good 15 minutes away because this campus is not set up to easily accomodate the advent of cars. I got an 8 the 2nd time I took the test and I was told that it wasn't sufficient enough to pass the requirement. That was nearly a year and a half ago. I was going to have to spit nails if this kid passed and I didn't. So, let me make sure I understand this: Someone in the situation is lying and it's either you or him."

"He tried to pass on that interpretation of the results and we didn't allow it to happen."

"Okay. Well, I just wanted to make sure that I still have to take this one course to graduate. Thanks."

And that's how perseverance, luck, and Mighty Mouse almost won me my math degree. Sigh.