june 1, 2003.

I'm happy to say that the Boy's mother came over for a visit yesterday afternoon. Not only did it give us the opportunity to clean up this stinkhole, but it was important to him that she show some interest in my incredibly growing belly. We got to hear birth stories about all three of the children, including the one about Scout in which Pixie hid her clothes and herself as soon as her mother's water broke. I can picture a tiny Pixie running around in these stories - except for the "running around naked" parts, it seems pretty consistent.

We also went to Sarah & Leo's party last night. I ate a lot of food, talked about many different things, and collected compliments on Stacy's stretchy babydoll dress. Our watermelon created a sensation - it was way more popular than we were. I'm happy with that, although I wish I had carried it in under my dress, as if it were my belly. But of course, who would've eaten it?

I'm starting to look pregnant now, which is unsettling when I'm getting ready for social events and kind of odd since I've only gained 3 pounds. Reorginization, I suppose. It's not like there wasn't a lot of material there from the happy pills to shift around.

Something I've been meaning to write about:

Last weekend the Boy & I went to Baconburg to visit his father & his father's wife. They had tickets to the World Indoor Lacrosse Championships (I'm probably scrambling some of those words) and we were set for the gold medal round between Canada and the Iroquois nation. The Boy & I were thrilled - we could root for either team without being disloyal! It didn't matter who won!

As soon as we sat down, we knew we were wrong.

We were 2 rows behind the Iroquois bench. Suddenly, rooting for the Canadian team was a lot like rooting for smallpox blankets and residential schools. (Interesting tidbit from the first link: "These letters [from the man who engineered the use of blankets infected with smallpox] also discuss the use of dogs to hunt the Indians, the so-called "Spaniard's Method," which Amherst approves in principle, but says he cannot implement because there are not enough dogs.") The morons around us (necessary wallpaper in any sporting event), who were loudly and boorishly cheering for Canada only strengthened my Liberal guilt reaction. And then they lost: 5 to 22. It was, well, a massacre. We were bummed all the way home.

But we had a souvenir from the Boy's folks: baby's first lacrosse stick. So I can take that off the registry.

5 years ago today: unsurprisingly, "Poet leaves to drink a lot."