Iowa.

Iowa.

This post has nothing to do with Iowa, which I (sort of) affectionately refer to as "one of those vowel states," and it only has a tiny bit to do with a song called "Iowa" by Dar Williams, that was in my head Tuesday night as I raced (73 mph!) up to Orange County for Sarah's birth. The part where Dar sings about driving across the state 10 miles above the limit with no seatbelt, and she'd do it again. Although I wore my seatbelt and have a personal hang up about going any faster than 8 miles above the limit, as if it makes me less desirable to a cop or something. But, the do it again part is totally fitting. And come on, it's Dar's ultimate woman-help song. "I've never had a way with women, but the hills of Iowa make me wish that I did."

Sarah called me at 6 pm ish to tell me that her water dramatically broke. She said that I should be on standby while she called her midwife. Remember that I'm about an hour and a half away from her. At 6:45, she called again to tell me to eat dinner and put Ollie to bed (his usual bed time is 7/7:30). I was out the door by 8, and arrived at their house in record time at 9:15. I opened the door to see Scott and Sarah standing there while Sarah dealt with a contraction. This is all normal enough, but add into the mix that her parents were both standing there trying to corral their dog that they had brought over, a yipping little tiny thing called Bootsie. It stressed ME out, man, and I wasn't the one with the concracting uterus.

As soon as that contraction ended, we left the barking dog behind and headed towards the hospital, which was in Laguna Niguel or maybe Laguna Beach. I don't know which one. It was dark and rainy.

We got to the hospital room at 10:00 pm. The midwife, who otherwise was very great, decided to ask Sarah some pointless questions during a contraction, so I stepped up to Be The Doula, to (politely) (and quietly) remind the midwife that Sarah was having a contraction? And could we wait with the questions?

I had been having doubts over the last month or so about my purpose as their doula, if I was really necessary, and if I'd just get in the way. This was going to be Sarah's third birth, she was a fantastic doula at my birth, and also her husband was a proven birth partner. I figured a first-time birthing couple would be easier on my confidence. I had been imagining Scott and Sarah having these quiet late night conversations about them not wanting to hurt my feelings by uninviting me. After that moment with telling the midwife to hush, I realized that I had done at least one doula thing right, so as long as I didn't somehow stop the birth, I'd be okay.

The beautiful Bryn was born at 10:45 pm. Her mother roared her out with such powerful strength and beauty, and also an element of calmness and grace. Bryn pretty much slept through it, emerging so peacefully and beautifully into her new world. And if you have ever doubted how amazing Sarah is, let me add that Bryn was 11 lbs 2 oz.

Being with a birthing mother has changed me in a way that my own birth didn't -- and couldn't. It's a totally different ballgame to be the one on the periphery witnessing the miracle. I feel like this was a rite of passage into womankind, that this experience that was supposed to foster empowerment in someone else (Sarah) ended up doing the total opposite. Now I'm strong, inspired, and roar-y, all because a woman birthed a baby on the floor in front of me.

I left the hospital just before midnight. The storm chased the windshield the whole way home and I cried for having known such a moment.

700th Post, Wild Miles.

My 700th Post. And Wild Miles.

This is my 700th post, according to my blogger dashboard. Excellent. Let's all have a cupcake to celebrate.

In other news, I'm thinking about doing Wild Miles next April. It's a 180 mile adventure relay race. It's running, but I'm going to go out on a limb and call it an adventure race, because if you can't call running 13 miles off-road uphill in the middle of the desert at midnight an "adventure," then to hell with it.

Anyway, there are 30 legs, and you can have teams of 10. There's also an option to have a team of 5, and they have a special name for those teams, something along the lines of "insane," because 180 divided by 5 = a lot of miles per person. Sick.

Most of the legs are about 5 miles long, so any one person would generally do about 15 miles in the weekend, which is relatively easy when you space it out over 24 hours. I can't believe I just wrote that. And actually, I think there's a 30 hour option, too, which is good, because 180 miles in 24 hours divides up to be, at the slowest, an 8 minute mile. Repeatedly. 180 8 minute miles, one after the other. In the desert. Not so much. I'll proudly sign up for the 30 hour option.

Two years ago, I couldn't do it because it was the same weekend as the inaugural Hike For Discovery Grand Canyon hike, and last April I was, like, due or something*. (*=direct quote from Drop Dead Gorgeous, best movie in the world) (* = birthing: also an adventure sport). So next year, it's on!

Fabulous Coach Sharon has done Wild Miles quite a bit, and she said that by far the worst part isn't running in the desert all day and night (she always does the half marathon leg, too), but sitting in a van with your sweaty, sore, irritable teammates in between your runs.

So, who's in? Haha.

Meals for the week.

Meals for the week.

Is there anything more egotistical than thinking any of you care about what we'll eat this week? Actually, there probably is, so I'll go ahead and tell you. I have recently begun cooking my own beans instead of using cans (boo BPA), so due to the (relatively minor) extra effort, I make giant batches. This week we're going to make garbanzo beans and black beans. We also have a giant butternut squash to use up, and pots full of cooked bulghur and green lentils in the fridge. Oh, and 18 lemons with the rind zested off to use in hummus. Not all 18, we should note. So, those factors are going to shape our menu for the week. I'm happy to say that most of the stuff didn't have packaging. This is a giant feat for me, because you know I have the Trader Joes lust, despite their ridiculous over packaging temptationness. I haven't stepped foot in that store in over a month. Oh mercy.

But here we go, brace yourselves for some quality blogging RIGHT HERE:

tonight
*soak garbanzo beans*

tuesday
-chickpea punjabi chhole (packaged - 89 cent sauce packet!)
-bulgur
-mujadara (lentils and rice)
*make hummus*

wednesday
-hummus (Veganomicon recipe) on top of poppyseed polenta (also Veganomicon), with zucchini and greens on top. Oooh, and we have avocados that are good and ripe now; those would be dreamy on top. Maybe more mujadara on the side.
*soak black beans*

thursday
-1/2 of a butternut squash, a sweet potato, greens and tofu, coated in maple syrup, coriander, salt, pepper, and garlic (slightly modified Veganomicon method of roasting winter squash) (I tried this the other day but misread "ginger" as "garlic," but am glad I did, so garlic it is). The best part of this is that it's all one pot. This makes up for having to saw apart the butternut squash. I'll set some aside for Ollie, too.
*cook black beans*

friday
-black bean & butternut squash chili from Vegan Planet, using the rest of the squash. we've made this before and it's fantastic.
-spinach.

sunday?
-black bean, sweet potato, and almond burgers from ExtraVeganZa.
-maybe I'll try my hand at making some rolls.

I probably spent like, $20 on this week's meals. That felt like an exaggeration at first, but it's probably not that far off. I heart bulks!

And here endeth the ridiculous post. Be warned, I might do this weekly. Ha, ha.

Winter!

Winter!

This weekend, we did our darndest to feel a little wintrous and seasonal around here. Here's the Weekend Roundup.

We went to Balboa Park's December Nights both nights, despite the rain and freezing, frigid 50 degree temperatures. And despite the massive crowds (I think everyone else in San Diego got giddy for wintery weather?), we managed to run into a ton of people we knew. SD is such a weird place sometimes - you have the most random run-ins with people. Such a big small town. Ollie was such a trooper even though he was bundled up beyond belief.

Saturday, we walked up to the North Park Toyland Parade, but it was nonexistent. They didn't even have the street closed down, so we assumed that they pansied out with the rain overnight. It's kind of like how we slow down to 30 mph on the freeway when it starts to sprinkle.

On the same walk, we perused two (very) different craft fairs. The first was in Our Saviors Lutheran Church (that's the grammar on the sign, suggesting that Jesus himself was actually Lutheran all along). It was an eco-friendly gift fair, with a lot of fair trade and political stuff. And! Not one, but two old ladies from our church were there. The second craft fair was in the Bar Pink Elephant on 30th, and was hosted by the swoon-worthy North Park Craft Mafia. !!. Don't you wish you were the witty genius who came up with that? They had skull baby bibs. And it was in a bar! Ollie, our favorite under-21 year old, stayed outside with dad. Unfortunately, Sparrow Baby was woefully unrepresented at both craft fairs. Next year!

We got a Christmas Tree. We had contemplated not getting one what with the almost-crawler and sudden drop in household income, but decided to get a small cheap one anyway.

We started making limoncello tonight, to bottle in pretty little glass stopper bottles for gifts. We got a killer deal on organic meyer lemons today from the handsome citrus farmer's not-so-handsome-but-slap-happy-instead brother, or something. He was like, hollering and wooting today as he announced, no, proclaimed his deals. We're using this recipe without the rosemary, because we liked how they gave us the procrastinator option. Also, the photography is pretty.

Not exactly seasonal, but we finally sold my old car this weekend. Actually, we didn't officially sell it yet, but we found a buyer. That's good enough for me. Farewell, sweet little car! I love you! And hate you!

Boy!

Boy!

I love this picture. He looks so happy and sweet. But most of all, he looks so grown up. He's a little person! And this picture is almost a month old - just this last week we've been saying how much more kid-ish he looks and acts.

Feed the world and your ego.

Feed the world and your ego at one handy website.

Prepare for addiction: FreeRice.com.

I have now donated 2,820 grains of rice and will not rest until I get a higher level than 43. I mean, until I feed more hungry people.