Last December 13th, Molly found out something in the morning that she couldn't tell anyone. It was a Sunday and I was sick, so I stayed in bed while Molly went to church and then helped out with a "Cookies With Santa" event. All that time, she kept the secret that she was pregnant! When she came home, I was feeling a bit better, so she was finally able to tell me. I was floored. We had only been trying for a little over a month and I didn't expect it to happen so soon. It was a great surprise and really lifted my mood, to say the least.
That week, we went to my company holiday party and Molly's family came to visit that weekend. The weekend after that, we went to visit my family for Christmas. It was so crazy knowing what we knew and not being able to tell anyone. Most advice I read online said to wait 10 to 12 weeks to tell other people that you are pregnant because that's when the risk of miscarriage dramatically drops. We were trying to wait that long, but it was really hard because we were so excited and the holidays made it even harder.
New Year's Eve, Molly and I were sitting in our living room talking about when we were going to tell our families about the pregnancy. In a spur-of-the-moment decision, we agreed to tell her parents that night and my parents when we saw them that weekend for Christmas with my aunts in New York. I ran to my computer and whipped up a little image to text to Molly's parents. I sent this to her dad at 8:30pm while Molly was on the phone with her mom:
Molly's mom was in shock and there was a lot of happy crying.
That weekend, Molly and I went to New York for my aunts' Christmas party. We had purchased a bracelet for my mom that said "Grandma is always loved" on it. The plan was to give it to her without any explanation and just let it sink in. Before my family arrived, I asked my cousin's daughter to record my parents' reaction to the news:
The baby has been healthy all of this time, but it has been a rough pregnancy nevertheless. Molly has been sick throughout, though it was worst in the first trimester. We took to calling the baby "Little Monster" since she was causing so much trouble. It was mostly in fun, though. We already love her so much and can't wait to meet her.
Oh yeah, it's a girl!
The due date was last Wednesday, August 24, but it seems we'll need to coerce her out into the world. Molly is going to be induced on Monday at 5pm, unless the baby finally decides to come out on her own before then.
It makes me really nervous, but I am also really excited.
We're about to embark on a grand adventure with our new little Sullivan!
Last night, I went to an event in Cleveland called The Wastelands. It was billed as a folk opera reimagining of Dante's Purgatorio. It was put on by a theatre and film ensemble called Children of the Wild. They were based in Massachusetts, but are migrating to Minnesota and are putting on free performances in multiple cities along the way.
The venue for the event was St. John's Episcopal Church in Ohio City. The program began outside, but we were led to different areas of the grounds for different scenes. The weather was perfect for the event. It was a little chilly at one point, but that actually fit in rather well since the scene was about a character fighting off cold.
It was a very interesting performance piece. I wasn't familiar with Dante's Purgatorio, so I could only go on what I was experiencing at the time. There were a lot of intense moments where I was really invested in what the characters were going through. The music was beautiful and really set the tone wonderfully. There was some slapstick physical comedy as well. I laughed at some of it, but it sort of felt out of place and went on too long at times.
I really liked the local aspect of the work. The church's sun-soaked stained glass window was a haunting background for a scene, the empty lot next door made a great set for a fire battle, and the church's organ was incorporated into the music at one point. Near the end of the performance, they had a local author read a passage he wrote about how hard it is to sympathize with others. It was very moving.
Overall, I thought it was a great production. I found myself thinking about it a lot today.
The wheel on my home office chair broke a couple of weeks ago. I tried using super glue to fix it, but that only held for about two weeks. Since then, I've been using a kitchen stool and looking for a replacement chair. I have trouble finding a good office chair, since I'm 6'2". Most chairs aren't made for tall people. A lot of stores have chairs in a Big & Tall category, but they are pretty much made for fat people.
After getting frustrated in my search, I decided to Google how to replace chair caster wheels. One of the top results was a 56 second video featuring a little kid. Out of curiosity, I watched it. This 10 year old says something like "I'm going to show you how to replace caster wheels on a chair. First, you pull the old one out. Then, you push the new one in." And that was it.
Yup, it was that easy. I have a new caster on the way from Amazon.
If a person loves only one other person and is indifferent to the rest of his fellow men, his love is not love but a symbiotic attachment, or an enlarged egotism. Yet most people believe that love is constituted by the object, not by the faculty. In fact, they even believe that it is proof of the intensity of their love when they do not love anybody except the "loved" person. This is the same fallacy which I have already mentioned above. Because one does not see that love is an activity, a power of the soul, one believes that all that is necessary to find is the right object - and that everything goes by itself afterward. This attitude can be compared to that of the man who wants to paint but who, instead of learning the art, claims that he just has to wait for the right object - and that he will paint beautifully when he finds it. If I truly love one person I love all persons, I love the world, I love life. If I can say to somebody else, "I love you," I must be able to say, "I love in you everybody, I love through you the world, I love in you also myself."
Our mailbox was hit by a car a few weeks ago. The lady who did it was nice enough to stop and pay for the damages, but it hasn't been fun replacing it. Until last week, we had to make due with some bungee cords and rope holding the splintered post together. I finally got all of the pieces I needed to put up a new one, but it wasn't as easy as the guy at the hardware store made it out to be. To make a long story short, I hammered a post spike into the ground crooked and couldn't get it back out. So, now we have a new mailbox and post that don't exactly sit right. At least it isn't falling apart and our mail will stay dry.
Now I just have to get rid of the remainder of the old post that is still sticking out of the ground. Apparently, a hack saw is not the best tool for the job.
Molly went to Lincoln, Nebraska for work last Wednesday. While she was there, she took some time to visit the capitol building. She saw a nice gated house across the street with a plaque on the gate. As she was reading the plaque, a little dog came up to her on the other side of gate. Soon, the dog's owner came up too and they had a pleasant conversation. After she left, on a hunch, she looked up the governor of Nebraska. Sure enough, she had been talking to Governor Dave Heineman!
I didn't meet any high-ranking officials while Molly was gone, but I did score some cheap tickets to see Bastille at The University of Akron on Wednesday night. The venue, E.J. Thomas Hall, was really cool looking. The opening band was Grizfolk and they were pretty solid. Bastille's performance was really good and the crowd was really it. Lots of screaming girls. My only gripe would be that the vocals were too quiet and the bass was too loud in the mix. I think Dan Smith's singing is one of the most important features of the band and there were times when I could barely hear him. Otherwise, it was a really good concert.
Friday night, I met up with Kurk, Amy, Michael, Lisa, and baby Gracie for dinner at Bubba's Q. Molly was really jealous, but that serves her right for going to Nebraska! (just kidding!) After dinner, Kurk, Michael, and I went to Operation Zombie Strike at Swings and Things. They drive buses with mounted paintball guns through a zombie infested area where you can shoot zombies to your heart's content. The zombies were college students in layers with masks on their heads. I expected them to walk toward the bus with arms outstretched, but it was more like they were bunched up and cringing from all of the paintballs being shot at them in rapid fire. At first, I was pitying them, but then I got into it and really had a good time. A little sadistic? I don't know...
They give you an ID card after you are all done, so you can show that you were a member of the Zombie Civilian Response Unit. Even though they had a sheet with my name written on it and I told them clearly what it was, they typed my name wrong into the computer. So, the ID card they gave me says that I'm Private Pustin Sullivan.
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