Updates

The euphoria couldn't last: we lost to Harvard on Saturday. Booooo!
But the weather turned warm and springlike today and I wore new shoes that Terry picked out for me this weekend (all my other shoes were getting too tight!)
I met one of the midwives this morning for a check-up, and she recommended a pair of doulas who also do childbirth classes. And they gave me a free children's book!!!

"You're not a goalie, you're a sieve!"

"Dartmouth has two great big sieves
Great big sieves, great big sieves
Dartmouth has two great big sieves
They let the puck go by SIX TIMES!!!!!"

Other highlights:

Scott's 100th goal
Greening's hat trick (last CU hat trick was in 2005!) About 30 people threw their hats out on the ice; it was pretty funny but then they told the crowd CU would get a penalty if they kept doing it...

Fun times, fun times.

Seeing "Red"

People often ask me what strange foods I've been craving; at a restaurant the other night I was offered deep-fried pickles with ice cream... strangely unappealing!

I can't say I've had any bona fide cravings as such, but I have had unexpected keen interest in foods that don't normally tickle my palate. To whit:

1) bananas (the best midnight snack ever)
2) orange juice
3) anything red

Ok, that's the weird one. Whereas the fact that I will now stand in the kitchen and eat half a jar of green olives at once is more about my new license to indulge, my response to foods that are red in color is really strange. It has nothing to do with flavor or texture: strawberries, cherries, grape tomatoes, red jello, red velvet cake, red M&Ms, salsa - if I see red I want to eat it. This is only problematic if your husband brings home a bottle of cherry-red dishwashing detergent. I went to wash the dishes and had to consciously resist the urge to drink the detergent...or at least taste it...it just looked...so...delicious...

Now that I've smelled it, though, the urge has definitely passed.

Smell, now smell continues to be a problem. The last two hockey games I went to were an olfactory assault by the third period, with all those warm bodies (mostly still clad in our winter wear since they keep the rink pretty chilled) packed closely together. Bleah. I've ridden a lot of tightly packed buses in tropical countries throughout my life and I think generally I have a pretty high tolerance for strong smells, but this is different. It's kind of fun, though, too :-) Sort of like having a secret super-power. Though if I had my choice, I think I'd prefer the ability to turn invisible at will, or to fly like Superman... telekinesis would be pretty cool too. Too bad those aren't side effects of pregnancy! Nope, just the ability to pick out bad smells at 100 ft and grow my fingernails really fast.

[Don't] Let Your Babies Grow Up to Play Hockey

Last night I used Terry's season ticket to attend the Cornell-Colgate hockey game (funniest ch/jeer of the evening: "Toothpaste! University! Toothpaste! University!" while pointing to each respective team. Second funniest ch/jeer: "Crest is better!"). It was a thrilling game, 1-1 tie going into overtime, when the winning goal was scored about a minute in. It's such a roller-coaster ride of euphoria and despair, riding the waves of emotion with a very expressive crowd.

The worst moment was when a CU player was hit in the head (I didn't see it, my friend C. says he was elbowed in the neck) and ended up on his knees and elbows on the ice for many long minutes as the medic crouched next to him and his brother, also on the team, stood guard nearby. Pretty scary, especially when you see how physical this game is, the falls and the body slams into the sides, you know it's serious when someone can't get up for a moment.

Eventually he was able to rise and the medic helped him off the ice as everyone applauded in relief.

Watching these games, especially when they're close, the tension is almost unbearable at times - and it's this very thing that has up until now kept me away from sports spectatorship. That, and I feel sorry for people when they get hurt. But being married to a sports FAN has helped me understand the athlete's point of view a little better - the risk of pain is part of the pleasure of the game. And going to hockey games has really helped me understand the addiction of the adrenaline rush. It's cathartic like theater is, only more intense. When I got home last night, I spent several hours online reading statistics on the team and the division, so this morning on the phone with Terry (he's on his way back from VA) we had an actual sports conversation!!!

I was reflecting on this and remembering my mom's advice when we got married: to explore and support each other's interests. She talked about how much it meant to her when my dad bought her a book of romantic poetry one time. I thought about how Terry knows more about knitting now than I'm certain he's ever dreamed he would - he knows what felting is, the difference between straights and circulars, the importance of dpns, and has even on several occasions ventured alone into yarn shops to buy me presents! So as much as hockey-talk is out of character for me, I'm really really enjoying getting into it.

Our friends whom we go to the games with have often expressed amazement at how "mild-mannered Elizabeth" turns into a screaming fan (under what other circumstances is it possibly socially acceptable to scream at someone "Hey [opponent]! DIIIIIEEEEEE!!!! Drop Dead! Go Home!" and enjoy it? Sorry, Colgate - it's nothing personal! Harvard, though - that's another story...) :-)

Also, I was thinking that if our baby turns out to be really into sports, this will help me relate to him/her. Although if s/he decides to play hockey... it's going to be really hard not to worry 24/7 about elbows to the neck.

GO BIG RED!!!

Ok, so now I know what all the fuss is about! Last night I was part of the loudest crowd "on the planet" (according to the Ithaca Journal article) cheering Cornell's literally last-minute defeat of Harvard. Oh yeah, we're talking hockey (see picture). Terry and I sat facing the undergrad section which reminded me of sea anemones every time they waved their arms to a) point accusing fingers at the Harvard goalie and yell "sieve! sieve! sieve! sieve!", b) bow in "we are not worthy" fashion to the Cornell goalie after a particularly good save and c) wave "bye" to any Harvard player going into the penalty box, along with a cry of "oooooohhhhh... see ya! You goon!"

In other words, lots of great solidarity rituals :-). There was the throwing of fish onto the ice when the Harvard team came in, there was the shaking of newspapers at the Harvard team (evidently to show how boring they are), there was the chant of "you're not a goalie, you're a sieve! You're not a sieve, you're a vacuum! You're not a vacuum, you're a black hole! You're not a black hole, you just suck!" And during the national anthem when they get to the line "...and the rocket's red glare," everyone shouts RED as loud as possible. (It was quite possibly the most enthusiastic rendition of the anthem I've ever heard.) I got quite caught up in the excitement and only knit during intermissions! It was really fun. My favorite part was in the last 3 minutes when my section stood up and the students started yelling "townies up, townies up!" Oh and yes, Cornell won 3-2.