Various Photos

I'm having a really good time with my camera. I'm still getting used to the idea that I actually have it. I keep forgetting and I find myself going "I wish I had a nice camera. Oh wait! I DO!" Here's some things I've taken pictures of recently.

My Dad sent me these for Valentine's Day.

Clean glasses drying in my new and amazing dish drainer.

A chandelier at the The Sphinx, the hooka bar we went to the other night. I didn't actually take this picture. My camera was passed around alot that night and when I got home this picture was there. It could have been taken by any number of our friends.

 I love taking pictures of people. Since I'm home by myself alot of the time, I take alot of pictures of myself. Not because I'm particularly vain. Just because I like faces and don't have any models to practice on.

I call this one "Preggo face".

 And I call this one "In the Bathroom Mirror with a Blue Shower".

Things I miss.

There are many things I don't miss about living at home. I will tell anyone who asks that I am infinitely more happy living with Silas, in our own little home, than I was when I lived with my parents. There are, however, a few things I miss.

I miss walking into the dining room to find Maggie smearing sour cream all over herself after she ate all her chips.

I miss Walter trying to fix his stubbed toe with a wrench.

I miss Maggie doing her "eyebrow thing" that I taught her.

I even miss Walter picking his nose.

This? Well. This I don't miss so much.

Six Month Anniversary

It's been six months since I got married. ONLY SIX MONTHS. It seem like a lifetime. Already I can no longer remember what it was like to be by myself at parties, to sleep alone, or to be without someone to take care of me. What's more, I can't imagine life without Silas.

 We're now expecting our first child and surveying the world of opportunities before us. I feel like anything could happen and that we could do anything.

Here's to many, many, many more months of joy and companionship.

The Bright Side

Yesterday evening I popped in the shower. My perfectly lovely Sunday was marred by the fact that I tripped on the bus steps and fell down. All the way down. As in, laying on my side, my feet stretched all the way out behind me and my arms all the way out above my head. And I couldn't really, uh, move. Not because I was hurt all that badly, but because I, uh, was too fat, my boots were heavy, and the coat that I was all bundled up in made it difficult to move (though it provided excellent padding for the fall). Thankfully, I was helped up and I continued to my seat where I pretended to be fine. But I was embarrassed, shaken, in pain and as soon as we got home I sat down in our recliner and cried. I skinned my knee, the palm of my hand, and bruised my thigh.

My husband instructed me to go straight to bed so my body could work itself out and so that I could rest. My husband has lots of good ideas. This was definitely one of them. I woke up from my nap feeling much better and much less upset. My husband told me to go take a shower because I would feel even better after wards. Another one of my husband's capital ideas. (I love him!)

As soon as I got in the shower, however, I heard the toilet flush. Immediately my head popped out and my eyes commenced "evil wife glare". Silas immediately let go of the handle and the toilet stopped. You see, our toilet is kind of broken. You have to hold the handle down the whole time or it won't flush. Silas apologized "Oh, I'm sorry honey! I totally forgot! Fortunately, our toilet doesn't work." My glare melted away and I laughed "Fortunately."

And that, my friends is looking on the bright side! I highly suggest it. It makes one much happier, in general. And sometimes it ends in sitting in bed eating homemade hummus and homemade bread while your husband reads science fiction out loud to you.* (Did I mention I love my husband?)

A P.S. for those of you sweet blog readers who will probably inquire: I'm feeling better this morning. A little sore, but otherwise Baby Snider and I are doing just fine. I'm even considering taking the bus to Trader Joe's this afternoon! So you needn't worry about me :)


*Results not typical

Snowpocalypse!

Here in Pittsburgh we've received record snowfall for the month of February. So far we're hedged in on all sides by more than 30 inches of snow. With several inches today and another six expected on Monday, we Pittsburghers a wee bit weary of the snow. Even the biggest snow enthusiests among us are beginning to gripe. THE SNOW JUST DOES NOT STOP! It snows pretty much all the time. The U of Pitt students are fondly referring to this plague as "Snowpocalypse". (Perhaps less fondly since they found out they get to make up their snow days on Saturdays. But that is neither here nor there.)

I've enjoyed the snow mostly, since it keeps snowing it's not melting. Melting snow is disgusting, especially in the city. And since Silas and I don't have a car, we don't have to worry about the hassle of digging it out, putting a chair in our parking spot, etc... I only fell in a snow pile once but began bawling immediately as my pants were instantly soaked and I realized that I was too fat to get up. You might think this extremely comical and I must admit that it is very funny to me now. But at the time it seemed like the worse thing that could possibly happen. Thankfully Silas was with me and lifted me out "as though I weighed no more than a dry leaf!" (I sincerely hope that my readership can name that movie.)

 

 This is a lovely glob of ice that is currently stuck to my neighbor's downspout. I predict alot of business for gutter companies this spring.

This is the house across the street. They're already trying to repair the damage to their gutters, I saw the husband and wife outside yesterday with saws. The wife clearly had no idea what she was doing and the husband kept yelling at her to stop screwing everything up. It was hilarious. For me.

This is the view from my front steps.  If you look you can see that it's actually snowing pretty steadily while I'm taking this picture. Isn't Bloomfield pretty!? I like the variety of houses on our street.

This is the view from my back porch. I can't walk on it because it's condemed. But I like to store garbage out there and secretly hope it will fall through the rotten wood onto our psychotic neighbors who live beneath us. I'm evil. I know. Also, note, there are MORE colorful houses.

Also taken from my back door. My neighbors' yards are a complete mess of snow.

While standing in the back doorway taking pictures, I happened to turn to look at the side of our neighbor's house and saw this window. I think it's beautiful.

If the snow keeps coming I'll keep taking pictures. Until then, stay warm and don't get hit by any stray buses. (Though my husband points out to me that you get a HUGE cash settlement if you get hit by a bus, so it might be worth sacrificing a limb or two. Don't listen to my husband, though. He's silly.)

Valentine's Day

This was Silas and I's first Valentine's Day that we were able to spend together. I was really excited about this. Not because I expected flowers, chocolates, or presents. I didn't expect any of those things. But because I was terribly happy to just not be alone on Valentine's Day. All I expected was to spend a nice Sunday with my husband and our friends, as usual. I expected we'd probably eat somewhere nice (with friends) and I considered myself completely content to hold his hand during church. I got so much more than I expected.

The day before Valentine's Day Silas informed me that he had a secret errand to run. So he took the zipcar and picked up whatever it was he was after and he brought it home. In a white and silver polka dot bag covered in black and white polka dot tissue paper. I may or may not have teared up a little. Silas is a generous man, but he does not wrap presents. I've received many presents from Silas since our relationship began, all of them very wonderful; but none of them have ever been wrapped.

I gazed longingly at the wrapped package which he set prominently on the stereo cabinet. He smiled at me that mischievous Italian smile that makes me giggle on the inside and informed me that he ordered my present a couple weeks ago but it JUST came in this morning. I was shocked. He thought ahead WEEKS to order me a Valentine's Day present!?! I could hardly wait for the next morning.

Sunday morning Silas and I groggily rolled out of bed. We, neither of us, are morning people. So we did what we usually do when we're having trouble waking up. We went downstairs and collapsed on the couch. Then Silas went over to the stereo and brought me my package. Suddenly I was completely giddy.

 Fabulous wrapping job? Check.

What? What! What!?!

I look up at Silas who is smirking. It occurs to me that this might be the cruelest joke he ever played.

I ask "Seriously!?" He smiles "Seriously." "Wait. Seriously!?!?!" "Yes, woman, seriously!"

 

Wait? AND photo editing software? Have I died and gone to heaven?

I look at this face and I want to kiss it all over.

Then I look at this. And I want to kiss it all over too.

Then I decide to go for the face. It was a good choice.

I began pulling everything out of the box and immediately began charging the battery, hoping against hope that it would charge before it's time to leave for church. That didn't happen. So we went to church and I held Silas's hand through he service, as expected. Then we went out for Indian food with Britt and I decided that naan is awesome, curry is still nasty, and Indian food is over rated.

Then we went to community group, after which everyone ordered Indian food. Again. My previous conclusions were confirmed. We watched the Olympics - couple's skating and moguls were on. I tried very hard to be calm and wait patiently till my camera and I could be reunited. And I enjoyed spending time with our friends despite my camera withdrawal.

We finally got home, very late indeed, and despite the lateness of the hour I proceeded to take a ton of pictures of everything. I'm sure my blog is soon to be flooded with picture awesomeness in huge quantities. So stick around!

My Stepdad asked me yesterday if my first married Valentine's Day was everything I hoped it would be, all those years that I was single. (Which seemed like an eternity at the time, but weren't THAT long, I suppose, since I married at 20.) And yes, yes it was. I love my husband and he loves me and we both love our baby. What's not perfect about that?

At 14 Weeks

 

Ladies and Gentlemen, I am now roughly the size of a barge and Baby Snider is about the size of a lime. I think this is deceiving since I look like I'm carrying at least a grapefruit, if not an eggplant! The weight is getting to me a bit. I feel heavy. It's hard for me to stand up after I've been sitting down awhile and it's hard for me to go to sleep at night because every position I lie in makes one of my limbs fall asleep. Also, my face is fat. Which has nothing to do with falling alseep. I just don't like my face being fat.

Baby Snider's new favorite thing is to make Mama feel like her uterus and/or belly button is about to explode. I realize that my uterus has to stretch, because before Baby Snider took up residence there it was only about the size of a pear and by 14 weeks it's the size of a melon! But I didn't realize the stretch would be so painful. I avoid touching my belly button altogether.

But overall I've been feeling better. My mood has completely stabilized, much to my relief and that of my poor husband. Seriously, the craziness scared me. I still suffer from morning sickness a couple mornings a week, but for the most part I'm over it, which is really, really nice. The tiredness is also past, which is really, really, really nice!

I'm trying to make myself exercise because I'm out of shape from 3 months of laying on the couch and eating. But there's so much snow still that walking is very difficult. I have a t-tapp dvd, but I'm lazy. I need to get on the ball, I know, or I will regret it when it comes time to push this baby out in five months.

No more cravings. In fact, I don't even feel like eating most of the time, which is weird because I was constantly starving during the first trimester. I have to remind myself to eat and drink these days because it just doesn't occur to me most of the time. At the very beginning I was super excited about an excuse to eat meat all the time. But I must confess, I'm kind of meated out now. I just want to eat a huge plate of pasta with butter and salt on it!

That's all for now, folks!

I am a mutant, it turns out. No, I really am!

Some of you *cough cough Ian* remarked on the shortness of my thumb in my earlier blog post where I described my accident with a chef's knife. I've always had extremely short thumbs compared to my peers, and originally I always assumed that this was just me growing slower than my friends. As I reached adulthood I noticed that, uh, my thumbs hadn't grown since I was 8 and no one in my family had thumbs like mine.

Recently, and partly due to the hype surrounding Megan Fox's superbowl ad, I've discovered that I actually suffer from a mild form of Dysmelia called Brachydactyly. Sometimes referred to as clubbed thumbs, this condition is caused by loss of genetic information or a mutated gene and is pretty much harmless.

 It's not painful and the only time it causes me trouble is when playing piano (I can only reach one octave, thumb to pinky) and playing guitar (bar chords are difficult, though manageable). Sometimes it's also difficult for me to take the safety off of a pistol when I go shooting, but again, with practice I can get around it.

 I know a couple other people who have one clubbed thumb and one normal thumb. Personally, I'm glad that I have two so's they match. And they make my hands feel petite... which is nice considering the rest of me could never really be described that way.

Megan Fox.

 

Me, trying to be all Megan Foxy but turning out looking all Elisabeth Snidery. 

Also, I realize my face looks all poochy in these pictures. It's just cause I have preggo face.  It's my Italian Baby's fault.

Italian Envy + Food

So, for many years now I have desperately wanted to be Italian. Desperately. I love the language. I love the dark eyes and hair. And I love the food. I adore the food. I want to clasp Italian food to my bosom in a loving and endless embrace! Oh cibo italiano! Si rendere il mondo un luogo di bellezza e meraviglia!

After coming to the realization that I shall never be Italian, I did the only thing a girl in my position could do. I married and Italian and made an Italian baby. I can't wait to meet my adorable Italian baby. And just look at my handsome Italian husband!

Ahem. The point of this post is not to gush about my husband, how awesome he is, how well he cooks, how we're coming up on our 6 month anniversary, how he brought me home fast food the other night when I was in bed with a sinus headache, how he buys me chocolate and double stuffed oreos just cause he knows I like them, or how he doesn't get upset with me when I fall behind with my house work. No. The purpose of this post is to talk about the amazing Italian food I made last night.

Firstly focaccia. Olive and garlic focaccia.

 

My Italian husband scolded me for forgetting that he doesn't like olives. First I told him he was a rotten Italian. 

 

Then I promised that next time I would make it without olives. For him. I would still make Olive focaccia for me. Because it's amazing.

Plus, I made baked polenta with onions and cheese for him.

 

I don't really like polenta much. It's too grainy and corny for me. But Silas loves it (Proof that even if he is a rotten Italian, he is one, nonetheless.) and could eat it 5 times a week without getting sick of it. And, I mean, this really is the bestest way to eat polenta, even I will admit.

This is a special kind of spaghetti. The name of the sauce is "Spaghetti Without Meat" sauce and it's a Snider family recipe. I don't even know what goes in it, for sure. But I think it has tomato sauce, mayonnaise and soy sauce in it, for starters. My husband made a big batch of it earlier this weekend while we were snowed in. 

But, as you can probably see, when I pulled it out to use it last night I put meat in it (and mushrooms) which might make Silas's Mama rather horrified. But I know she'll forgive me because I have to get all my protein in to make sure my Italian baby grows up big and strong and bearded like his papa! (This week, I'm convinced it's a boy.)

So this is what my delicious Italian meal looked like. I was planning on making molten chocolate lava cakes too, but Silas and I were so full after devouring this feast of food that we decided to watch Little Miss Sunshine and go to bed without cake. Another time. I promise.

Silas took the whole casserole dish of leftover polenta to work for lunch today instead of the leftover spaghetti. Which I think is hilarious. Because if it were me I would want meat in my lunch. Thus, MY lunch consisted of an amazing sandwich on the heavenly olive focaccia.

Addio per ora i miei amici belli!

Preggo Dreams

Ok, so, here's the thing. This blog has always been filled, since its inception, with absurdities from my life. When I lived at home it was filled with my little siblings, after I got married it was filled with my husband, and now it's filled with lots of pregnancy weirdness. I make no apologies. 


I've always been a vivid dreamer. To this day I can still remember a few nightmares from my childhood that were very real to me and haunted me for months. Thankfully, as I got older I rarely had nightmares, but I still had dreams which often fooled me into believing that they were reality. Sometimes I would wake up in the morning and roll over to look at my journal to make sure I wasn't operating under the assumption that something I dreamed had actually happened.


When I got pregnant my dreams became even MORE real. At first I only had pregnant nightmares, which were horrible. I think they were probably based in the huge amounts of fear I harbored during the first part of my pregnancy. But I've been letting go of those fears more and more lately and as I've done that I've found that I continue to have baby dreams - but now they are happy baby dreams. And what's more... some of the are totally hilarious.


A couple weeks ago I dreamt that I gave birth to a boy. He was chubby, naked and all blue (like all babies are when they first come out) and I birthed him standing up. His head was perfectly round. He started crying and we named him Gideon. And you know what - I actually felt the joy that I think most mothers talk about when they describe holding their baby for the first time. I woke up feeling really happy and excited and wanting to hold my baby RIGHT NOW. Also, I was convinced Baby Snider was a boy.


Then, last week, I had a hilarious dream. I dreamt that I gave birth, in a birth pool, in my grandmother's living room, to a girl this time. Except, instead of being a newborn, she was a year old and wearing a pink shirt and pink and green striped pants. And know what else? She was fully conversive. In fact, she told me, as she climbed out of the pool (perfectly dry) to play with some toy ponies on a chair, that she wished to be named Amy.


I told her no. "I don't feel like any of my children should be named 'Amy'." She just looked at me like my intelligence was very lacking, like I couldn't possibly be her mother because I wasn't smart enough. "But" I continued "You could be named Abigail and I could call you Abby. Would that be satisfactory?" She paused for a moment and then told me that yes, she thought that would be just fine and then she returned to her ponies and I went back to baking bread (in my grandmother's kitchen). Also, I woke up convinced Baby Snider was a girl.


Oh, God, you have made life beautiful with the ridiculous. I praise you for your care of my sense of humor!


Also, something that warmed my heart: Ellie informs me that Peter, my little brother-in-law prayed for me last night during family worship and he prayed "Dear God, please help Elisabeth's baby to come soon and help it not to hurt very much, Amen." Peter, from your mouth to God's ears. 


I like the way those Snider boys pray.

At 12 Weeks

I was able to hear Baby Snider's heartbeat today! We could hear Baby Snider moving on the doplar but the midwife was having trouble finding the heartbeat. I told Baby Snider "It's ok to come out of hiding, Mommy just wants to hear your heart." And eventually we found the heart beat. So precious! It was fast, but not as fast as I expected from what other people had told me.  It was so funny think "This is my baby that I get to hold in a few months!"

Our midwife also showed me how to feel where my uterus was. It's just peeking over the top of my pelvic bone now. This also means I'm getting bigger and I'm not going to stop growing anytime soon; over the next month Baby Snider will quadruple in size!

I've been feeling a whole lot better as I transition into my second trimester. (I'm 1/3 done baking this baby!) Something funny I've noticed; that my sneezes have become truly epic! I'm not sure why, but over the past few weeks I've noticed that whenever I sneeze there is a tremendous amount of force behind them! A circumstance I happen to find hilarious.

Silas bought me some lemons for me to eat to help with the morning sickness, which is mostly gone now, but sometimes makes an appearance when I first get up, or when I forget to take my prenatal vitamin. He bought me this kind I had never seen before called Meyer Lemons. They looks like little oranges and they taste like sweetish lemons. Basically they're amazing. How did I live without them before? I know not. I know not.

A couple people have asked me if I have had any weird cravings, and I can't really say I've had that many. I've had cravings that are unusual for me, such as oreos, which I never was a big fan of before this pregnancy; there's peach yogurt, which I also never liked before this pregnancy. And for some reason it occurred to me that bananas would be amazing on top of pizza - but I never tried it because Silas and Britt wouldn't let me.

There was also the incident with the jar of salsa con queso. I was eating it with chips, out of the jar and I ran out of chips. I considered finish it off with a spoon, but instead I used a couple oreos. Silas was thoroughly disgusted and, I think, regretted buying me both the dip and the oreos, but hey, it was yummy.

Silas is just great about everything. When I'm feeling bad he brings me things home from the store. When my back is hurting he rubs it till it feels better (Seriously, the dude should have been an osteopath). He's like magic. He even made me dinner twice this week! I can't say enough good things about that man.

Here's what my baby belly looks like as of now:

Stayed tuned for the next Bi-weekly Pregnancy Update at 14 weeks!