10 years and we've hardly changed.

10 years and we've hardly changed.

Last night was my high school 10 year reunion. I'd first like to point out that NO WAY can I possibly be in my late twenties. It was in a decent hotel far from the suburban soccer mom and retirement community mecca of Rancho Bernardo, which definitely helped it feel less lame.

If there's one person who has managed to solidly keep in touch with almost everyone in our extended network, it's my friend Ali. Ali was my boyfriend's best friend, and then Ali and I went to college together. I was very happy to have Ali and our other long lost friend, Leah, around last night to show up together. It was unbelievable to see everyone again. I can't even describe it. For the most part, it seemed like we all just picked up where we left off, and then someone would mention their two year old and it would blow me away.

There were people I rarely talked to back then that absolutely clicked with me last night. And of course, there were people who never gave me the time of day in high school who continued to never give me the time of day. One of whom was wearing Formal Shorts, so I felt better.

Around midnight, after everyone had been standing around outside, and this one guy who once had a bet that he could get an erection first in class (and won) had streaked through the crowd wearing underpants and a bronco mask, we decided to head elsewhere to continue. Most of us dropped the spouses off at home or the hotel, and by the time I showed up to Rachel's house it was exactly as I hoped it would be. We were all just sitting around, thumbing through the yearbook and the reunion-provided "bio book" and, you know, judging people.

It was interesting to see Nick again. I thought it would be awkward, and it kind of was for a while at the actual reunion, with his Won't Make Eye Contact girlfriend, but once we were at Rachel's house, things were just so comfortable again. I actually felt a tiny little twinge of melancholy, missing him a little bit. And then we started telling stories of our brightest and not-as-bright moments in school, many of them revolving around Nick publicly humiliating me. It was equal parts hilarious and ah-yes-it-really-DID-suck.

Outside of realizing that whatever hard feelings Nick and I may have towards each other are long forgotten or well repressed, the highlight of the night was reconnecting with people who still live in town. I'm really excited to add Leah and Kelly to my little local tribe. I can't believe I forgot how much of a gem Leah was. We were friends long before the junior/senior year group, dating way back to either 8th or 9th grade. Senior year and that following summer, we were at Eric's house almost every night and every other weekend or so during college, when the UCLA crowd would shuttle themselves back to the insane hospitality of Eric's family and the remarkable tolerance of Eric's girlfriend Kelly. Unfortunately, many of us lost touch with him, but the legacy lives on. Last night, it felt like we were back at our little hub house again, with the boys in the driveway pretending to play basketball and the girls upstairs in Eric's bedroom singing along to Billy Joel and Carole King records we found. Except this time we had spouses and new girlfriends sitting around, which was kind of fun, kind of awkward. Until we tucked the spouses in and continued on our own. Erik was, I should add, a star companion, but wasn't about to stay out until 3 am with us.

Overall, I don't really see myself seeing many of the other people for another 10 years, and that's kind of cool. I know you're all probably really impressed that I got this far without talking about the baby, but sorry. This morning, I was thinking about our 20 year reunion a little bit, and wondering if it would really be as scary as it once seemed. Not really. By then, the baby will barely be 10, and that's still a youngish kid. I think that helps my Fear Of Aging. And while I've completely blown the blog-without-mentioning-the-baby pipe dream, I was so, so thankful that I was showing by last night. At least this way, I was just barely on the good side of the "is she pregnant? or just fat?" line. It didn't really matter, though, because Ali had told everyone ahead of time anyway. I swear, the guy must have a phone tree.

Good times, man. Good times.

Just let me lie down a minute.

Just let me lie down a minute.

I'm still pregnant. Very much so. In fact, we were able to see the little tiny thing waving its little tiny limbs at us on Thursday. But more importantly, I'm not at work and I'm eating a giant bowl of mashed potatoes. Only mashed potatoes.

At least I was able to make them myself. Poor Erik has been taking care of all of us, non-stop, because I usually can't even open the fridge door without puking. But the good news is that I've managed to not lose much weight (only 1 lb), although coupled with the fact that I have ceased almost all athletic activity, I have probably just lost my years-of-hard-work muscle tone and like they always tell the non-skinny active people, hey, muscle weighs more than fat, you know. So it looks like the barfing and the low-impact lying down aerobics I've been doing are cancelling each other out. And I should probably eat more mashed potatoes.

So, onto this lying down thing. It's pretty much the only thing I want to do. Early on in the first trimester, it helped relieve the vicious round ligament pain as the uterus prepped itself to stretch. But I gradually realized how good it felt, and how it seriously lessened the nausea. I now require frequent lie-downs throughout the day. Before and after eating. Before and after barfing. Before and after sleeping. And so on.

I can't describe the feeling of seeing the little walnut with its beating heart and, eventually, it's flailing little arms and wiggling feet. Apparently, the legs are each 5 mm long right now. Swoon! So tiny. Also, when we were looking at the ultrasound, I was lying down. So that was good.

I'm 11 weeks along and well into the first phase of nesting. I'm going to call this phase the, "shit, how can we possibly bring a child into this mess?" nesting phase. I always thought that new parents must have an physiological switch that sends them into constant and automatic organization and cleanliness, and I still believe it. I just organized my closet, for crying out loud, a task that has never been done before in my life.

Alright, it's lie down time now.