There really isn't much like the International district in Seattle. Other towns may have bigger and/or more famous districts (NY, San Fran and Victoria BC's come to mind), but Seattle's International District is something special. Partly because of how compact it is considering how many ethnicities are a part of it, partly because it is quintessentially Seattle - a taste as near to the original as possible, under the circumstances.
And let's face it, when you can get dim sum at one of four or five places within three blocks of each other, you really do have it good. So finding some really good asian food in Dallas has been an ongoing, and sometimes disappointing, endevour. But we found dim sum. Good dim sum. Tasty dim sum. Very tasty dim sum. For a split second, I almost forgot I was in Dallas. There was a sea of asian folks, steamed hum bow, chicken feet (I passed), pork dumplings, spare ribs, steamed rice wrapped in tea leaves, octopus, fried shrimp with the heads still on, and ducks hanging in the kitchen.
Then of course we walked outside into a sunny day in the high 90's, got into a car with a black interior and sped down the very flat highway passing signs billboards for steak houses and air conditioning. But I digress...
The pregnancy is going swimmingly, unless you count the incessant kicking that my very patient lady love is enduring. She also pulled a back muscle the other night. Since it was caused by work her back is doing supporting our little monkey, and I am somewhat culpable of putting her in the position of being pregnant, I spent the day trying to somehow relieve her pains. Ultimately the solution was a combination of some cool science and good old fashioned know how from my mother, whose alter ego Dr. Band Aid has always has always had a suggestion for how to fix things. Dr. Band Aid is not always right, but she did take care of yours truly when I snapped my ankle in half. And brother, that goes a looooooong way in my book.
The science part consisted of Ben Gay adhesive patches, which seemed to do well for the most part, not too noticeable, but it made everything bearable. The motherly know how was a wet towel in a plastic bag, heated in the microwave, the end result being a nice heat pad.
Other than that stuff, the Dr.s say were doing well, the baby seems to be on a regular schedule of movement, and is definitely getting stronger. The kid's kicks and shrugs and stretching can be seen through Alison's shirt if you're sitting near her. It just elicits what seems like an irrationally happy reaction from me when I see it.
Baby classes are pretty much done, we have to do the breast feeding class, but it's only one night. They encourage the partner (a necessary term in an age where "husband" would seem presumptious, sexist, and probably indicative of republican leanings), to attend the breast feeding class. I'm approaching it with mixed emotions. On the one hand, it's a subject that involves two of my favorite things. On the other hand we're not talking the most elegant context, and really, do I want to go altering with my current frame of reference quite yet? The challenges facing a dad to be...
Other than that, the only other thing going on is that we've made the countdown list, the things we have to do before the rugrat actually shows up. We've gotten some done, but there is some heavy lifting and some major planning left to do. We will keep you updated as it comes.
No comments:
Post a Comment