How to recognize them: They watch your every move as a parent. They don’t care what seems to work for you and your child. They feel their experiences are the absolute end all be all of parenting and that’s how it should be. No one else’s opinion matters. They are right. You are clearly wrong.
Frequently heard saying: “You shouldn’t feed your baby so much. You don’t want her to be fat.”
“She’s not hungry. She just wants to suck on something.”
“You can’t just shove a bottle in her mouth every time she fusses.”
Why they bug: Nothing burns my ass more than people who criticize, ignore and sometimes outright undermine my parental judgments and orders. I'm the one with the permanent scars from giving birth. That makes me the boss, not you. Watch me shove a bottle in her mouth when she cries. She IS hungry, asshole. That’s the only time she cries. If she just wanted to suck or chew, she’d take a pacifier. But she spits it out because nothing comes out of it. She’s a growing baby. You can’t just starve her. You never even bothered to ask how much she eats in a given day. My pediatrician is not concerned about her weight. He is a well-educated medical expert. If he doesn’t care, neither should you. She's eating breastmilk, not Big Macs. And why should I take your advice when all your five year old eats is hot dog rolls?
Their retort: “Well, I guess you know best…”
My response: You bet your fat stupid ass I know best what is right for my child. Shut up and worry about your own kids.
Monday, October 11, 2010
Saturday, October 9, 2010
A Sappy Open Letter To My Daughter On Her Second Birthday
Dear Anastasia,
I can’t believe you are two years old today. It’s not possible. It feels like your father and I brought you home from the hospital 20 year ago. I’m getting gray hair and bags under my eyes from not sleeping. Your mommy is aging rapidly thanks to you and your sister.
All joking aside, you’ve been the light of my world for these last two years. I never really imagined myself to be the mommy type but you have made it enjoyable.
You were an early talker and a late walker. This would have been fine except you were a really late walker and needed physical therapy for your weak joints and low muscle tone. Watching your strength develop and taking your first steps has been amazing. You are now running and climbing and doing everything a two year old is supposed to doing, including getting away from me on the playground and getting hurt, leading to bumps on your head and more even gray hair on mine.
Something new comes out of your mouth everyday that makes me laugh. I love that you talked early because you never had a problem telling me exactly what you want (rather than running away from me to go get it). I hope you carry that on throughout your life and you’re never afraid to say what you want or what is on your mind. Today you were carrying your toy car around rather than riding it. When I asked what you were doing, you looked right at me sighed and said, “It’s heavy.” I’m still not convinced that you can’t read. I know sometimes you have your books memorized, but I’m almost positive that you sometimes recognize the words as well.
You have been the best big sister you could possibly be. I have to admit, I was a little scared that you would be jealous of your sister or be mean to her. So far, so good. Please don’t make a liar out of me. Your sister will need you to watch out for her. And I have a feeling she will watch out for you too. Be nice to her. Share your toys. Share clothes. And don’t steal each other’s boyfriends. It’s so important to me that you like each other and get along forever. I know you’ll fight sometimes. But please make up quickly.
You have changed me so much. I’m much more laid back now. I don’t get stressed as easily. My priorities have shifted. You and your sister are the most important things in my life.
This next year will bring us potty training. I’m a little worried about that one but you are already showing signs that you are interested and ready. I’m just not so sure that I am.
I can’t wait to see who you will become. You have such a strong personality already. Don’t be a brat. I love you to the moon and back. You mean the world to me.
Love,
Your Mommy
I can’t believe you are two years old today. It’s not possible. It feels like your father and I brought you home from the hospital 20 year ago. I’m getting gray hair and bags under my eyes from not sleeping. Your mommy is aging rapidly thanks to you and your sister.
All joking aside, you’ve been the light of my world for these last two years. I never really imagined myself to be the mommy type but you have made it enjoyable.
You were an early talker and a late walker. This would have been fine except you were a really late walker and needed physical therapy for your weak joints and low muscle tone. Watching your strength develop and taking your first steps has been amazing. You are now running and climbing and doing everything a two year old is supposed to doing, including getting away from me on the playground and getting hurt, leading to bumps on your head and more even gray hair on mine.
Something new comes out of your mouth everyday that makes me laugh. I love that you talked early because you never had a problem telling me exactly what you want (rather than running away from me to go get it). I hope you carry that on throughout your life and you’re never afraid to say what you want or what is on your mind. Today you were carrying your toy car around rather than riding it. When I asked what you were doing, you looked right at me sighed and said, “It’s heavy.” I’m still not convinced that you can’t read. I know sometimes you have your books memorized, but I’m almost positive that you sometimes recognize the words as well.
You have been the best big sister you could possibly be. I have to admit, I was a little scared that you would be jealous of your sister or be mean to her. So far, so good. Please don’t make a liar out of me. Your sister will need you to watch out for her. And I have a feeling she will watch out for you too. Be nice to her. Share your toys. Share clothes. And don’t steal each other’s boyfriends. It’s so important to me that you like each other and get along forever. I know you’ll fight sometimes. But please make up quickly.
You have changed me so much. I’m much more laid back now. I don’t get stressed as easily. My priorities have shifted. You and your sister are the most important things in my life.
This next year will bring us potty training. I’m a little worried about that one but you are already showing signs that you are interested and ready. I’m just not so sure that I am.
I can’t wait to see who you will become. You have such a strong personality already. Don’t be a brat. I love you to the moon and back. You mean the world to me.
Love,
Your Mommy
Thursday, October 7, 2010
Sunny Days Sweeping The Clouds Away
If you’ve ever met my daughter Stasi, you would know that she is obsessed with Sesame Street, much like John Hinkley Jr. was obsessed with Jodi Foster. Fortunately, we live only slightly over an hour away from Sesame Place. We decided to take her there as her first amusement park trip.
Stasi, who is not quite two, can be a little unpredictable in public. At times, she can be a bit whiney and bratty. Other times, she is bubbly, excited and cute. And sometimes she is a little bit of both. We committed to only a few hours because we weren’t quite sure how she was going to deal.
When we got there, we decided to spring an extra three dollars for VIP parking. This was probably not necessary as there is regular parking for $15 just across the street that was not all that much farther away. We noticed right away that the landscaping was trimmed and planted in the shape of Sesame Street characters. Very cool!
I had already purchased our tickets online before entering. The cost to get into Sesame Place is $53 for everyone over the age of two. The pass is good for two days that don’t necessarily have to be consecutive. I found a discount via AAA. There are also other various coupons available online and through other businesses. We brought a backpack, which contained juice for Stasi. Next time, we will likely bring water as well. After a guard searched the pack and we hit the somewhat crowded bathrooms outside of the gates, we went in.
We were directed by the greeter who took our tickets to a stand that was giving bags to the kids to trick or treat at various points in the park. There were clues that lead to each stand but we didn’t really pay attention to them. Rather, we just collected the candy as we saw the stands. The greeter neglected to tell us where we could get a map of where everything was. We spent the first couple hours orienting ourselves to the layout of the park.
It’s not a huge park. Half of it seems to be water rides, which we have little interest in. It was a hot day, despite already being fall. Many, but not all, of the water rides were still running. Instead, we tried to focus on some of the Halloween activities. We also walked through a small section of the park that is a replica of the Sesame Street set. I intended to get pictures of Stasi sitting on the infamous doorstep, but never got around to it. We were either too busy trying to figure out where things were or tired and ready to leave.
I took Stasi into The Count’s Halloween maze and got lost. Amid the twists and turns, there was a talking Jack O’lantern named Merlin who interacted with the crowd. After watching him for a little from the back of a group of people, we continued. I erroneously thought the curtained exit was another dead end. Knowing that we were limited on time, and that Stasi had decided that she no longer wanted to walk, leaving me to carry her, I panicked a little. Then I followed some other people around until they left. When we came out, The Count was waiting at the end. We got in line to get Stasi’s picture taken with him. She did not look at the camera, though. We found a few other characters in our travels, too. She didn't look at the camera with them, either.
We noticed that people abandon their strollers and other belongings at the rides, shows and at the Dine With Me hall. I was a little leary of this at first but everyone does it. I kept all of my important belongings in my pocket (money, camera, etc.) but no one messed with my backpack anyway. I found this to be kind of amazing. There are also lockers available for other cynics. I do suggest putting a ribbon and a tag with your contact info on your stroller just in case someone mistakenly takes the wrong one.
We made reservations prior to our visit to have lunch with the characters. This was a great opportunity for Stasi to get to meet the characters without spending time in line. The characters all came to the tables, except for Elmo. You had to go to him for a picture, which cost $20. I look like hell in that picture. Stasi also does not look as happy as she really was. We had a hard time dragging her away from him really. The lunch was a buffet. It was okay, similar to what you would expect at a high school cafeteria. There were hotdogs, chicken, mac and cheese, among other things along with cookies for dessert. The food wasn’t amazing but it wasn’t horrible, either. The cost of dining is $25 per adult. Children ages two and up are at a lower cost but I’m not sure what it was as Stasi was free. The characters also performed some songs. It was entertaining and worth it overall, given the cost of food at amusement parks.
Next, we found maps at the information stand near the gate and less crowded bathrooms near one of the water rides that was not in use. Then we were off to Elmo’s World Live. They suggest getting there a half hour before show time. We waited in line for a while and it was fairly crowded. In line, they showed episodes of Elmo’s world for the kids. We were finally seated on bleachers in a small auditorium for Elmo’s Halloween themed show. Stasi seemed to love it. When it was time to leave, she said, “Bye Elmo’s World! See you later, Elmo’s World!”
We left and it was finally time for some rides. We made the carousel our first priority. At first, she cried. But once it started moving, she started to laugh and really enjoyed herself. We decided to hit the rides in the Elmo’s World section next. She went on The Flying Fish with Paul because stuff that goes around in a circle tends to make me sick. Then we hit teacups and finally the flying birdcages.
We hit two of the shops. Because Paul couldn’t make up his mind and left it for Stasi to decide, we bought her both a stuffed Oscar and a stuffed Snuffalufagus. I also bought her a sweatshirt and a Big Bird onesie for my other daughter who was too little to make the trip.
We also wanted to get drinks for the ride home. The food places are all indoors so we decided to hit a snack stand instead. As we approached the first one, the vendor told us that the stand was closed. We got in line at another stand nearby, which had a long line. By the time it was our turn the first stand had reopened. The vendor really shouldn’t take his break inside the stand. They should at least send someone to relieve him. We were hot, tired and frustrated. And that was not a good way to end our day. Still, aside of having to wait to be seated for the show, that was really my only complaint. We got these gigantic character cups (which I believe are refillable at a discount). I noticed while we were waiting in line that the soft pretzels are shaped like Elmo’s head.
In an effort to hit all the rides before Stasi pooped out on us, we skipped the parade. Sesame Place will be retiring this version of the parade by the end of this season with plans to revamp it in 2011. I’m hoping we get to go again before the end of October to use the second part of our pass.
Stasi, who is not quite two, can be a little unpredictable in public. At times, she can be a bit whiney and bratty. Other times, she is bubbly, excited and cute. And sometimes she is a little bit of both. We committed to only a few hours because we weren’t quite sure how she was going to deal.
When we got there, we decided to spring an extra three dollars for VIP parking. This was probably not necessary as there is regular parking for $15 just across the street that was not all that much farther away. We noticed right away that the landscaping was trimmed and planted in the shape of Sesame Street characters. Very cool!
I had already purchased our tickets online before entering. The cost to get into Sesame Place is $53 for everyone over the age of two. The pass is good for two days that don’t necessarily have to be consecutive. I found a discount via AAA. There are also other various coupons available online and through other businesses. We brought a backpack, which contained juice for Stasi. Next time, we will likely bring water as well. After a guard searched the pack and we hit the somewhat crowded bathrooms outside of the gates, we went in.
We were directed by the greeter who took our tickets to a stand that was giving bags to the kids to trick or treat at various points in the park. There were clues that lead to each stand but we didn’t really pay attention to them. Rather, we just collected the candy as we saw the stands. The greeter neglected to tell us where we could get a map of where everything was. We spent the first couple hours orienting ourselves to the layout of the park.
It’s not a huge park. Half of it seems to be water rides, which we have little interest in. It was a hot day, despite already being fall. Many, but not all, of the water rides were still running. Instead, we tried to focus on some of the Halloween activities. We also walked through a small section of the park that is a replica of the Sesame Street set. I intended to get pictures of Stasi sitting on the infamous doorstep, but never got around to it. We were either too busy trying to figure out where things were or tired and ready to leave.
I took Stasi into The Count’s Halloween maze and got lost. Amid the twists and turns, there was a talking Jack O’lantern named Merlin who interacted with the crowd. After watching him for a little from the back of a group of people, we continued. I erroneously thought the curtained exit was another dead end. Knowing that we were limited on time, and that Stasi had decided that she no longer wanted to walk, leaving me to carry her, I panicked a little. Then I followed some other people around until they left. When we came out, The Count was waiting at the end. We got in line to get Stasi’s picture taken with him. She did not look at the camera, though. We found a few other characters in our travels, too. She didn't look at the camera with them, either.
We noticed that people abandon their strollers and other belongings at the rides, shows and at the Dine With Me hall. I was a little leary of this at first but everyone does it. I kept all of my important belongings in my pocket (money, camera, etc.) but no one messed with my backpack anyway. I found this to be kind of amazing. There are also lockers available for other cynics. I do suggest putting a ribbon and a tag with your contact info on your stroller just in case someone mistakenly takes the wrong one.
We made reservations prior to our visit to have lunch with the characters. This was a great opportunity for Stasi to get to meet the characters without spending time in line. The characters all came to the tables, except for Elmo. You had to go to him for a picture, which cost $20. I look like hell in that picture. Stasi also does not look as happy as she really was. We had a hard time dragging her away from him really. The lunch was a buffet. It was okay, similar to what you would expect at a high school cafeteria. There were hotdogs, chicken, mac and cheese, among other things along with cookies for dessert. The food wasn’t amazing but it wasn’t horrible, either. The cost of dining is $25 per adult. Children ages two and up are at a lower cost but I’m not sure what it was as Stasi was free. The characters also performed some songs. It was entertaining and worth it overall, given the cost of food at amusement parks.
Next, we found maps at the information stand near the gate and less crowded bathrooms near one of the water rides that was not in use. Then we were off to Elmo’s World Live. They suggest getting there a half hour before show time. We waited in line for a while and it was fairly crowded. In line, they showed episodes of Elmo’s world for the kids. We were finally seated on bleachers in a small auditorium for Elmo’s Halloween themed show. Stasi seemed to love it. When it was time to leave, she said, “Bye Elmo’s World! See you later, Elmo’s World!”
We left and it was finally time for some rides. We made the carousel our first priority. At first, she cried. But once it started moving, she started to laugh and really enjoyed herself. We decided to hit the rides in the Elmo’s World section next. She went on The Flying Fish with Paul because stuff that goes around in a circle tends to make me sick. Then we hit teacups and finally the flying birdcages.
We hit two of the shops. Because Paul couldn’t make up his mind and left it for Stasi to decide, we bought her both a stuffed Oscar and a stuffed Snuffalufagus. I also bought her a sweatshirt and a Big Bird onesie for my other daughter who was too little to make the trip.
We also wanted to get drinks for the ride home. The food places are all indoors so we decided to hit a snack stand instead. As we approached the first one, the vendor told us that the stand was closed. We got in line at another stand nearby, which had a long line. By the time it was our turn the first stand had reopened. The vendor really shouldn’t take his break inside the stand. They should at least send someone to relieve him. We were hot, tired and frustrated. And that was not a good way to end our day. Still, aside of having to wait to be seated for the show, that was really my only complaint. We got these gigantic character cups (which I believe are refillable at a discount). I noticed while we were waiting in line that the soft pretzels are shaped like Elmo’s head.
In an effort to hit all the rides before Stasi pooped out on us, we skipped the parade. Sesame Place will be retiring this version of the parade by the end of this season with plans to revamp it in 2011. I’m hoping we get to go again before the end of October to use the second part of our pass.
Tuesday, September 21, 2010
Ten Things That I've Learned Over The Last Two Years
As I close in on the second year of being a mother, I’m surprised at what I’ve learned so far. Everyday brings a new lesson. I won’t pretend to know everything about motherhood. I’m still a novice at this. But these are the lessons that immediately come to mind.
1. If your kid won’t eat vegetables, hide them. You can put spinach in smoothies and vegetables on pizza. Kids also don’t know the difference between beef hot dogs and tofu hot dogs. It’s hardly fair fooling them but it works.
2. Pump. Breast milk is the best thing for babies. But some babies don’t latch. And nursing in public can be awkward, especially when you’ve got big knockers. So take the time and pump rather than feeding your baby formula. The baby will still get all the nutritional benefits of the milk. Your significant other can also feed the baby this way while you pump. You will still bond with your child because babies are so dependant on their parents for every little thing anyway. And it’s free. It's best to try to get eight 20 minute pumping sessions in everyday if pumping exclusively.
3. Buy a diaper changer like this one.
They are small and convenient. They fit in your purse and hold what you need.
4. Sleep advice. I've written about this before but I feel it's very impoortant. First, give the baby a bottle before bedtime, whether it’s formula or breast milk. If you are nursing, give up caffeine completely. Use a special blanket to condition the baby. It will trigger the thought process on it being time to sleep. I prefer Halo Sleepsacks because they are impossible to break out of due to their zippers. And try to keep your room temperature low.
5. No butt scootching! It might be cute. And you might think it’s okay because at least your baby is getting around her own little world. But it may take months of physical therapy to correct when your child’s balance is off or her desire to walk is thwarted by a lack of a need. She will figure that there’s no reason to stand up since she can see the top of the coffee table. And why bother crawling or walking when you can carry things in your hand without falling? It takes a long time to break bad habits. Nip it in the bud and do not allow your child to scootch.
6. Real moms don't wear lipstick. I used to never leave the house without lipstick. Now, I find that I put it in my purse or pocket for after kissing the baby good-bye. I also find that I frequently forget to put it on. Sure, the makeup trends of nude lips did not help. But I think it’s mostly because I do not want to leave my daughter looking like Oscar Wilde’s grave.
7. Their falls, bumps and bruises will upset you more than them. I’ve had play dates ruined because little feet have gotten ahead of her and caused her to go way too fast. This has lead to a meltdown which was all mine rather than hers. Scratched glasses, bumps on the head, holding and rocking while she screams, “No mommy! Put me down!” soothe me somewhat. Seeing her run around and forget helps me even more. It's best to not even react. They're much more resilliant than you think.
8. TV is not so bad. The American Academy of Pediatrics can shove their suggestion of no TV for children under the age of two. I believe that TV has taught my daughter how to talk, recognize letters and numbers and possibly even read before the age of two. I think it’s more important to be careful of what she is watching rather than how much she is watching. It’s Sesame Street, not the Sopranos*. She’s not obese. In fact, she’s always been in the lower weight percentiles. And she loves to go outside to run around and take stroller walks. This may change when she is older, but for now I will continue to let her watch Sid The Science Kid. Someday, I hope to hear her sing, “I love my mom! My mom is cool!”
*We do not watch Cailou, however. That kid whines too much and it is strictly forbidden in my house.
9. If you have a daughter, you will find glitter in the strangest places. In the fridge, the bathtub, your hair. No one knows where it comes from. It just magically appears when you have little girls in your house.
10. Men will catch fire if a baby spits up on them. Or pees. Or (God forbid) poops. Or so it seems by my husband’s reaction when these things happen.
1. If your kid won’t eat vegetables, hide them. You can put spinach in smoothies and vegetables on pizza. Kids also don’t know the difference between beef hot dogs and tofu hot dogs. It’s hardly fair fooling them but it works.
2. Pump. Breast milk is the best thing for babies. But some babies don’t latch. And nursing in public can be awkward, especially when you’ve got big knockers. So take the time and pump rather than feeding your baby formula. The baby will still get all the nutritional benefits of the milk. Your significant other can also feed the baby this way while you pump. You will still bond with your child because babies are so dependant on their parents for every little thing anyway. And it’s free. It's best to try to get eight 20 minute pumping sessions in everyday if pumping exclusively.
3. Buy a diaper changer like this one.
They are small and convenient. They fit in your purse and hold what you need.
4. Sleep advice. I've written about this before but I feel it's very impoortant. First, give the baby a bottle before bedtime, whether it’s formula or breast milk. If you are nursing, give up caffeine completely. Use a special blanket to condition the baby. It will trigger the thought process on it being time to sleep. I prefer Halo Sleepsacks because they are impossible to break out of due to their zippers. And try to keep your room temperature low.
5. No butt scootching! It might be cute. And you might think it’s okay because at least your baby is getting around her own little world. But it may take months of physical therapy to correct when your child’s balance is off or her desire to walk is thwarted by a lack of a need. She will figure that there’s no reason to stand up since she can see the top of the coffee table. And why bother crawling or walking when you can carry things in your hand without falling? It takes a long time to break bad habits. Nip it in the bud and do not allow your child to scootch.
6. Real moms don't wear lipstick. I used to never leave the house without lipstick. Now, I find that I put it in my purse or pocket for after kissing the baby good-bye. I also find that I frequently forget to put it on. Sure, the makeup trends of nude lips did not help. But I think it’s mostly because I do not want to leave my daughter looking like Oscar Wilde’s grave.
7. Their falls, bumps and bruises will upset you more than them. I’ve had play dates ruined because little feet have gotten ahead of her and caused her to go way too fast. This has lead to a meltdown which was all mine rather than hers. Scratched glasses, bumps on the head, holding and rocking while she screams, “No mommy! Put me down!” soothe me somewhat. Seeing her run around and forget helps me even more. It's best to not even react. They're much more resilliant than you think.
8. TV is not so bad. The American Academy of Pediatrics can shove their suggestion of no TV for children under the age of two. I believe that TV has taught my daughter how to talk, recognize letters and numbers and possibly even read before the age of two. I think it’s more important to be careful of what she is watching rather than how much she is watching. It’s Sesame Street, not the Sopranos*. She’s not obese. In fact, she’s always been in the lower weight percentiles. And she loves to go outside to run around and take stroller walks. This may change when she is older, but for now I will continue to let her watch Sid The Science Kid. Someday, I hope to hear her sing, “I love my mom! My mom is cool!”
*We do not watch Cailou, however. That kid whines too much and it is strictly forbidden in my house.
9. If you have a daughter, you will find glitter in the strangest places. In the fridge, the bathtub, your hair. No one knows where it comes from. It just magically appears when you have little girls in your house.
10. Men will catch fire if a baby spits up on them. Or pees. Or (God forbid) poops. Or so it seems by my husband’s reaction when these things happen.
Saturday, August 7, 2010
You Can't Join My Play Group If...You Bring Your Child When He's Sick
How to recognize them: They’re carrying coughing and whining kids around that have snot coming out of their noses. The kids are carrying toys that are extremely attractive to your child. And it’s covered with snot, slobber and germs galore.
Frequently heard saying: “They’re not contagious. Not to be gross or anything but their noses are running clear. That means the infection is gone. I would NEVER bring sick kids around a new baby.”
Why they bug: That doesn’t mean that your kid isn’t covered with germs that are going to get the rest of the world sick, brain trust. What is so important that you can’t keep your annoying brats home? You know I have a newborn baby. My toddler is now drooling, sniffling and not eating because you just HAD to take your grimy little little monsters out. And I have a sore throat, too. I'm breastfeeding so there isn't much that I can take for that right now. I swear to God if my baby gets sick I am going to grab you by the testicles and twist, you fucking douche. I'd punch you, but my hands have been rubbed raw from washing them so much.
Their retort: "Oh, it’s just a little cold. They’ll get over it. It’s not like kids sleep through the night anyway."
My response: Well, maybe not YOUR kids don't sleep through the night but mine do…unless they’re sick. And all I want to do is sleep but I can’t because I have a baby that needs care and a cranky toddler who doesn’t feel good. I hope you get sick and run out of tissues and toilet paper, asshole.
Frequently heard saying: “They’re not contagious. Not to be gross or anything but their noses are running clear. That means the infection is gone. I would NEVER bring sick kids around a new baby.”
Why they bug: That doesn’t mean that your kid isn’t covered with germs that are going to get the rest of the world sick, brain trust. What is so important that you can’t keep your annoying brats home? You know I have a newborn baby. My toddler is now drooling, sniffling and not eating because you just HAD to take your grimy little little monsters out. And I have a sore throat, too. I'm breastfeeding so there isn't much that I can take for that right now. I swear to God if my baby gets sick I am going to grab you by the testicles and twist, you fucking douche. I'd punch you, but my hands have been rubbed raw from washing them so much.
Their retort: "Oh, it’s just a little cold. They’ll get over it. It’s not like kids sleep through the night anyway."
My response: Well, maybe not YOUR kids don't sleep through the night but mine do…unless they’re sick. And all I want to do is sleep but I can’t because I have a baby that needs care and a cranky toddler who doesn’t feel good. I hope you get sick and run out of tissues and toilet paper, asshole.
Wednesday, June 2, 2010
Not Everything That Counts Can Be Measured
It’s hard for me to avoid baseball this time of year. My husband and his family are big baseball fans. My dad obsessively watches the Phillies. Many of my closest friends are big baseball fans as well.
It’s not that I hate baseball. I just find it to be very slow. It makes me sleepy. My dad used to watch Phillies games on Sunday afternoons while dozing on the couch. I think I’ve been conditioned to do the same thing. Besides, it’s a game of numbers and statistics. And we all know that I hate statistics.
Tonight, one of those statistics should have been but never came to be due to human error. Detroit Tigers pitcher Armando Galarraga pitched what should have been the 21st perfect game in history. However, when umpire Jim Joyce blew a call on what should have been the last play of the game, his perfect game was blown.
What unfolded after these events is what truly surprised me.
When the press interviewed these two men, they both acted in ways that were refreshing in this day and age. In a time when we have athletic stars who are overpaid egomaniacs, Galarraga smiled and told reporters that he was sure that no one felt worse about the call than the umpire. Here is a guy who had a chance to be a positive historical statistic, make a name for himself and ensure his induction as a hall of fame player. The odds of him ever accomplishing such an achievement again are nil. Most people would be angry, not smiling and practically saying that they felt bad for the guy who made the mistake.
Also, in a society where people are quick to pass the buck and refuse to be accountable for their actions, Jim Joyce remorsefully owned up to his mistake. He admitted that he was wrong at the time of the call. With instant replay, it was easy to see. But in person, from his perspective, perhaps it was not as clear-cut. He’s just a man with his two eyes. Men make mistakes. Great men admit them.
This is the kind of sportsmanship we always teach but rarely see in practice. This is a great lesson for our children. Galarraga’s sportsmanship teaches empathy and to see things from the other person’s point of view when facing conflict. Joyce shows us that admitting our wrongs is the right thing to do.
This is the stuff fables are made of. Sure, this will not go down in the records as a historical moment. But the way the men interacted teaches a lesson far beyond statistics.
It’s not that I hate baseball. I just find it to be very slow. It makes me sleepy. My dad used to watch Phillies games on Sunday afternoons while dozing on the couch. I think I’ve been conditioned to do the same thing. Besides, it’s a game of numbers and statistics. And we all know that I hate statistics.
Tonight, one of those statistics should have been but never came to be due to human error. Detroit Tigers pitcher Armando Galarraga pitched what should have been the 21st perfect game in history. However, when umpire Jim Joyce blew a call on what should have been the last play of the game, his perfect game was blown.
What unfolded after these events is what truly surprised me.
When the press interviewed these two men, they both acted in ways that were refreshing in this day and age. In a time when we have athletic stars who are overpaid egomaniacs, Galarraga smiled and told reporters that he was sure that no one felt worse about the call than the umpire. Here is a guy who had a chance to be a positive historical statistic, make a name for himself and ensure his induction as a hall of fame player. The odds of him ever accomplishing such an achievement again are nil. Most people would be angry, not smiling and practically saying that they felt bad for the guy who made the mistake.
Also, in a society where people are quick to pass the buck and refuse to be accountable for their actions, Jim Joyce remorsefully owned up to his mistake. He admitted that he was wrong at the time of the call. With instant replay, it was easy to see. But in person, from his perspective, perhaps it was not as clear-cut. He’s just a man with his two eyes. Men make mistakes. Great men admit them.
This is the kind of sportsmanship we always teach but rarely see in practice. This is a great lesson for our children. Galarraga’s sportsmanship teaches empathy and to see things from the other person’s point of view when facing conflict. Joyce shows us that admitting our wrongs is the right thing to do.
This is the stuff fables are made of. Sure, this will not go down in the records as a historical moment. But the way the men interacted teaches a lesson far beyond statistics.
Saturday, May 29, 2010
You Can't Join My Play Group If...You Police Others' Fertility
How to recognize them: They stare at you and your kids when you’re out in public, giving what they believe to be sympathetic looks if you have more than one. They get extremely nosey when you only have one child. And they treat you like a barren freak of nature if you tell them you don’t want children at all.
Frequently heard saying: “Oh you poor thing! You must have your hands full! I pity you!”
“So, when are you having another one?”
“You don’t want kids?!?!” **clutches pearls** “But children are such a blessing! You’re young yet. You’ll change your mind.”
Why they bug: Why do people have such a hard time with the “live and let live” concept? We all make our choices. The number of children you decide to have, or not have, is completely up to you. We have control over these things. We are free to live our lives in whatever way makes us happy. Just because a woman is juggling more than one child, that does not mean her life is miserable. Some people are perfectly satisfied with one child. And if someone decides that parenthood is not something they have any interest in at all, there’s nothing wrong with that, either. We all have our private reasons for these decisions. What if the woman at the grocery store adopted one of her children, saving them from horrible circumstances? What if the woman with one child had financial problems and another child isn’t something they could afford? What if the woman who chooses not to have children reached her decision after learning that she has fertility issues? It’s rude to make assumptions. It’s rude to ask questions. Does it really matter that much to you?
Their retort: “I was just making conversation.” “I was trying to be compassionate.” “I just know how much I love my kids and hate to see people miss out on this joy.”
My response: Get your fucking nose out of my uterus and mind your own business!
Frequently heard saying: “Oh you poor thing! You must have your hands full! I pity you!”
“So, when are you having another one?”
“You don’t want kids?!?!” **clutches pearls** “But children are such a blessing! You’re young yet. You’ll change your mind.”
Why they bug: Why do people have such a hard time with the “live and let live” concept? We all make our choices. The number of children you decide to have, or not have, is completely up to you. We have control over these things. We are free to live our lives in whatever way makes us happy. Just because a woman is juggling more than one child, that does not mean her life is miserable. Some people are perfectly satisfied with one child. And if someone decides that parenthood is not something they have any interest in at all, there’s nothing wrong with that, either. We all have our private reasons for these decisions. What if the woman at the grocery store adopted one of her children, saving them from horrible circumstances? What if the woman with one child had financial problems and another child isn’t something they could afford? What if the woman who chooses not to have children reached her decision after learning that she has fertility issues? It’s rude to make assumptions. It’s rude to ask questions. Does it really matter that much to you?
Their retort: “I was just making conversation.” “I was trying to be compassionate.” “I just know how much I love my kids and hate to see people miss out on this joy.”
My response: Get your fucking nose out of my uterus and mind your own business!
Monday, May 17, 2010
In Support Of High Tech Births
Last week, I chose my child’s birthday.
On that day, or perhaps a few days before that if she decides she wants out sooner, I will arrive at the hospital, be prepped for surgery, cut open and have her removed abdominally rather than vaginally. This is the birth I have chosen.
I’m probably a decent candidate for a VBAC (vaginal birth after c-section). I don’t know for sure because I have not really discussed it at length with my OBGYN practice. At my first prenatal visit I made it clear that I had no interest in a VBAC. I was told at that point that if I did not attempt a VBAC this time, I would not be able to attempt one with any subsequent pregnancies. That’s fine with me since I don’t intend to have any more.
I don’t get why I have to defend this choice to some people.
I also don’t get why some people are so gung ho to use technology to get pregnant via fertility treatments. Yet, once they are pregnant, shun every possible piece of technology available. Why is one okay and not the other?
I also question why the very same people will fight tooth and nail to have a safe and high tech abortion when the outcome is that the fetus does not survive. These women would not want to do such a thing at home. Yet, they would love to have a home birth. If something did go wrong in those circumstances, they may not have the medical equipment available to ensure the child would survive.
Isn’t it ironic? Don’t ya think?
People will say that the act of giving birth is a natural process and not a medical procedure. I disagree. If there’s blood involved, it’s medical. If someone’s life is at stake, it’s a medical procedure. If you have an opportunity to mitigate your pain and plan ahead, why not do it? This is not a third world country. You do not have to suffer or be inconvenienced.
When I went into the hospital to have my first child, I was asked if I had a birth plan. I told them, “You’ll probably do this more times today than I’m going to in my entire lifetime. I’ll just follow your lead.” Perhaps I am giving up control of my experience but that’s okay with me. I just want everything to be done safely. So I’m going to leave it up to the experts and professionals.
So I will spend the next few weeks planning childbirth, as much as anyone can plan childbirth. But at least I have a definite date that I can’t go back. To me, childbirth is not a means to an end but rather a means to a beginning.
On that day, or perhaps a few days before that if she decides she wants out sooner, I will arrive at the hospital, be prepped for surgery, cut open and have her removed abdominally rather than vaginally. This is the birth I have chosen.
I’m probably a decent candidate for a VBAC (vaginal birth after c-section). I don’t know for sure because I have not really discussed it at length with my OBGYN practice. At my first prenatal visit I made it clear that I had no interest in a VBAC. I was told at that point that if I did not attempt a VBAC this time, I would not be able to attempt one with any subsequent pregnancies. That’s fine with me since I don’t intend to have any more.
I don’t get why I have to defend this choice to some people.
I also don’t get why some people are so gung ho to use technology to get pregnant via fertility treatments. Yet, once they are pregnant, shun every possible piece of technology available. Why is one okay and not the other?
I also question why the very same people will fight tooth and nail to have a safe and high tech abortion when the outcome is that the fetus does not survive. These women would not want to do such a thing at home. Yet, they would love to have a home birth. If something did go wrong in those circumstances, they may not have the medical equipment available to ensure the child would survive.
Isn’t it ironic? Don’t ya think?
People will say that the act of giving birth is a natural process and not a medical procedure. I disagree. If there’s blood involved, it’s medical. If someone’s life is at stake, it’s a medical procedure. If you have an opportunity to mitigate your pain and plan ahead, why not do it? This is not a third world country. You do not have to suffer or be inconvenienced.
When I went into the hospital to have my first child, I was asked if I had a birth plan. I told them, “You’ll probably do this more times today than I’m going to in my entire lifetime. I’ll just follow your lead.” Perhaps I am giving up control of my experience but that’s okay with me. I just want everything to be done safely. So I’m going to leave it up to the experts and professionals.
So I will spend the next few weeks planning childbirth, as much as anyone can plan childbirth. But at least I have a definite date that I can’t go back. To me, childbirth is not a means to an end but rather a means to a beginning.
Monday, May 10, 2010
What I Want For Mother's Day 2011
1. An alcoholic beverage - I was too pregnant to party this year. Every year, my mother in law requests Outback for lunch. Next year, I want a Walaby Darned, damn it!
2. To sleep in – I don’t want to get up to go to church. I don’t want to get up with cranky kids with messy diapers. I don’t want to get up to remind my husband to call his mom and find out what she wants for lunch before she goes to church. I just want to sleep and wake up when the time is right.
3. An uninterrupted nap – Even if I sleep in late, Sunday afternoon naps are awesome. I tried this year but a very cranky baby with tummy troubles interrupted it. Moms truly never have a day off.
4. Jewelry that fits – My husband got me a bracelet that is too small because he thought I had small wrists. What. The. Fuck? He’s known me for 10 years, bought me other bracelets even. I’m a solid girl of eastern European stock. Why would I have dainty little wrists? I know I’ve bitched and moaned about having my grandmother’s stegosaurus like bone structure on several occasions over the last 10 years. At least he can take it back and get something that fits.
5. A clean cat box without having to ask or remind someone to clean it - This one is self-explanatory. Never mind the fact that I couldn’t clean the box right now, even if I wanted to due to my pregnancy. The deal when we got the cats was that they were his responsibility and he would take care of them.
6. To not have to pick up everyone else’s garbage and throw it away - Apparently, the fairy that is supposed to rinse out recyclables before putting them in the bin does not know where our house is. I often find empty Mountain Dew cans next to the sink.
7. To not have tummy troubles. - Hopefully, this sickness is just pregnancy related. I will spare you all the details. You’re welcome.
8. Red velvet cake ice cream from The Ritz in Allentown - This was the highlight of my Mothers Day. They have awesome ice cream in there.
9. My father in law to have a new kidney - The poor guy has been in the hospital almost every Mothers Day since I’ve known him. I really hope his health gets better. I think this is what he needs.
10. My children and their father to be happy and healthy, as well as the rest of my friends and relatives - As much as I whine and bitch about everything else, it could all be worse. The important thing is that we’re all happy and healthy. The rest is just small details.
2. To sleep in – I don’t want to get up to go to church. I don’t want to get up with cranky kids with messy diapers. I don’t want to get up to remind my husband to call his mom and find out what she wants for lunch before she goes to church. I just want to sleep and wake up when the time is right.
3. An uninterrupted nap – Even if I sleep in late, Sunday afternoon naps are awesome. I tried this year but a very cranky baby with tummy troubles interrupted it. Moms truly never have a day off.
4. Jewelry that fits – My husband got me a bracelet that is too small because he thought I had small wrists. What. The. Fuck? He’s known me for 10 years, bought me other bracelets even. I’m a solid girl of eastern European stock. Why would I have dainty little wrists? I know I’ve bitched and moaned about having my grandmother’s stegosaurus like bone structure on several occasions over the last 10 years. At least he can take it back and get something that fits.
5. A clean cat box without having to ask or remind someone to clean it - This one is self-explanatory. Never mind the fact that I couldn’t clean the box right now, even if I wanted to due to my pregnancy. The deal when we got the cats was that they were his responsibility and he would take care of them.
6. To not have to pick up everyone else’s garbage and throw it away - Apparently, the fairy that is supposed to rinse out recyclables before putting them in the bin does not know where our house is. I often find empty Mountain Dew cans next to the sink.
7. To not have tummy troubles. - Hopefully, this sickness is just pregnancy related. I will spare you all the details. You’re welcome.
8. Red velvet cake ice cream from The Ritz in Allentown - This was the highlight of my Mothers Day. They have awesome ice cream in there.
9. My father in law to have a new kidney - The poor guy has been in the hospital almost every Mothers Day since I’ve known him. I really hope his health gets better. I think this is what he needs.
10. My children and their father to be happy and healthy, as well as the rest of my friends and relatives - As much as I whine and bitch about everything else, it could all be worse. The important thing is that we’re all happy and healthy. The rest is just small details.
Wednesday, May 5, 2010
Book Suggestions For Your Mom For Mothers Day
It's that time of year. Many bookstores, magazines and news magazine programs are offering advice on what books to get your mom for Mother's Day. I can honestly say that, as a mom, these suggestions are always really lame. I'm not crafter. Gardening makes me itchy. I'd be insulted by Rachel Ray cookbook or something called "Hello, Cupcake!" I have no desire to read another Jodi Picoult book. So here are my suggestions for moms who don't fall under the umbrella of normalcy.
For the mom who is not quite Martha Stewart and has a really good sense of humor about it,
I Like You: Hospitality Under The Influence by Amy Sedaris – Sedaris, best known for her role in Strangers With Candy, as well as being the sister of humorous writer David Sedaris, offers some very handy tips for entertaining in this book. She is an advocate of stuffing your medicine cabinet with marbles to find out who is a nosey guest. She also gives great etiquette advice. For example, when speaking with the bereaved, a bad question to ask may be, “Where were you at the time?’ I have given this book as a gift many times. The first time was shortly after someone asked me about a friend who had died in a car accident. “Was she drunk?” she asked. I responded, “Well, it was 10 AM on Christmas Eve and she was on her way to work. So, probably.”
For the mom on Prozac,
What Girls Learn by Karin Cook – This is a fictional story about a mother of two young girls who remarries and moves to a different state. Shortly after she is married, she finds out that she has breast cancer. It’s also quite a coming of age tale that became a Showtime Original movie and later a Lifetime Movie Channel classic. I dare anyone to read it and not cry like a baby. Being on Prozac is your only hope.
For the mom who works so much she has little time to enjoy arts and crafts,
Extreme Office Crafts: Creative & Devious Ways to Waste Office Supplies & Company Time by Jimmy Knight and Tom Chalmers - Let mom save time by giving herself a manicure with Liquid Paper during a long boring conference call. She can make fun little toys out of erasers and paper clips. Let her get in touch with her creative design side and make a mosaic picture out of post it notes. It’s all in this fun craft book.
For the mom who lives under a rock,
Twilight Collection by Stephenie Meyer – Although, she’s probably already read it. We all know moms are the real targeted audience.
For the mom who is a Bravo Junkie,
Secrets of a Jewish Mother: Real Advice, Real Stories, Real Love by Jill Zarin, Lisa Wexler, and Gloria Kamen
And
Little Kids, Big City: Tales from a Real House in New York City (With Lessons on Life and Love for Your Own Concrete Jungle) by Alex McCord and Simon van Kempen
As of press time, I have not read either of these books. I ordered them from Amazon. They’re being sent to me regular mail and we all know what a bunch of fuck ups there are in the Blandon post office. I expect to have them sometime next January. But I will give you my take based on the viewing habits of my present television viewing guilty pleasure, The Real Housewives of New York and a couple online reviews that I’ve read. Alex’s book rules! It’s funny, not at all pretentious and an overall good read. Jill’s book sucks. She’s a bitch and probably writes her own reviews to combat fans of the show who gave the book a bad review as a result of her snide behavior.
For the mom whose wild life has been tamed by sniveling brats like yourself,
Mommies Who Drink: Sex, Drugs, and Other Distant Memories of an Ordinary Mom by Brett Paesel - If your mom didn’t mind labor because she was drugged up to her eyeballs, this is the book for her. It follows a mother of two and her girlfriends who enjoy a good cocktail, each others’ company and the adventures in mommyhood. Plus, the cover is super cute with its wink at Goodnight Moon
For the mom who is in denial and/or can't take a hint,
Mom, Dad, I'm Gay.: How Families Negotiate Coming Out by Ritch C. Savin-Williams – Chances are pretty good your mom has already figured it out. I mean, hello! You spell Ritch with a “t” in the middle. She’d probably prefer some nice flowers or a charm bracelet. But if you really feel the need to have a long discussion on a day that’s supposed to be light and happy for her, go for it. Just promise you’ll take her shopping or dancing another time.
For the mom who is horny,
Porn for New Moms: From the Cambridge Women's Pornography Cooperative by
Cambridge Women's Pornography Cooperative, Susan Anderson - A nice collection of hot men handling babies, talking about how they’ll change the diapers and do the laundry. Ah, a girl can dream.
For the new mom who is a bit clueless,
Safe Baby Handling Tips by David Sopp and Kelly Sopp – This illustrated board book offers great advice such as the following.
It also offers The Wheel of Responsibility for the couples to divvy up the tasks that pesky little babies demand so frequently. Never again will you have to play rock, paper, scissors to decide who has to change the next poopy diaper.
For the mom who is a misinformed Republican,
That's No Angry Mob, That's My Mom: Team Obama's Assault on Tea-Party, Talk-Radio Americans by Michael Graham - Then smack her upside the head with it for me.
For the single mom who makes bad decisions,
If You Want Closure in Your Relationship, Start with Your Legs: A Guide to Understanding Men by Big Boom – Another one that I’ve never read. I never really needed this advice. But I know a lot of people who do, including your mom.
For the mom who is not quite Martha Stewart and has a really good sense of humor about it,
I Like You: Hospitality Under The Influence by Amy Sedaris – Sedaris, best known for her role in Strangers With Candy, as well as being the sister of humorous writer David Sedaris, offers some very handy tips for entertaining in this book. She is an advocate of stuffing your medicine cabinet with marbles to find out who is a nosey guest. She also gives great etiquette advice. For example, when speaking with the bereaved, a bad question to ask may be, “Where were you at the time?’ I have given this book as a gift many times. The first time was shortly after someone asked me about a friend who had died in a car accident. “Was she drunk?” she asked. I responded, “Well, it was 10 AM on Christmas Eve and she was on her way to work. So, probably.”
For the mom on Prozac,
What Girls Learn by Karin Cook – This is a fictional story about a mother of two young girls who remarries and moves to a different state. Shortly after she is married, she finds out that she has breast cancer. It’s also quite a coming of age tale that became a Showtime Original movie and later a Lifetime Movie Channel classic. I dare anyone to read it and not cry like a baby. Being on Prozac is your only hope.
For the mom who works so much she has little time to enjoy arts and crafts,
Extreme Office Crafts: Creative & Devious Ways to Waste Office Supplies & Company Time by Jimmy Knight and Tom Chalmers - Let mom save time by giving herself a manicure with Liquid Paper during a long boring conference call. She can make fun little toys out of erasers and paper clips. Let her get in touch with her creative design side and make a mosaic picture out of post it notes. It’s all in this fun craft book.
For the mom who lives under a rock,
Twilight Collection by Stephenie Meyer – Although, she’s probably already read it. We all know moms are the real targeted audience.
For the mom who is a Bravo Junkie,
Secrets of a Jewish Mother: Real Advice, Real Stories, Real Love by Jill Zarin, Lisa Wexler, and Gloria Kamen
And
Little Kids, Big City: Tales from a Real House in New York City (With Lessons on Life and Love for Your Own Concrete Jungle) by Alex McCord and Simon van Kempen
As of press time, I have not read either of these books. I ordered them from Amazon. They’re being sent to me regular mail and we all know what a bunch of fuck ups there are in the Blandon post office. I expect to have them sometime next January. But I will give you my take based on the viewing habits of my present television viewing guilty pleasure, The Real Housewives of New York and a couple online reviews that I’ve read. Alex’s book rules! It’s funny, not at all pretentious and an overall good read. Jill’s book sucks. She’s a bitch and probably writes her own reviews to combat fans of the show who gave the book a bad review as a result of her snide behavior.
For the mom whose wild life has been tamed by sniveling brats like yourself,
Mommies Who Drink: Sex, Drugs, and Other Distant Memories of an Ordinary Mom by Brett Paesel - If your mom didn’t mind labor because she was drugged up to her eyeballs, this is the book for her. It follows a mother of two and her girlfriends who enjoy a good cocktail, each others’ company and the adventures in mommyhood. Plus, the cover is super cute with its wink at Goodnight Moon
For the mom who is in denial and/or can't take a hint,
Mom, Dad, I'm Gay.: How Families Negotiate Coming Out by Ritch C. Savin-Williams – Chances are pretty good your mom has already figured it out. I mean, hello! You spell Ritch with a “t” in the middle. She’d probably prefer some nice flowers or a charm bracelet. But if you really feel the need to have a long discussion on a day that’s supposed to be light and happy for her, go for it. Just promise you’ll take her shopping or dancing another time.
For the mom who is horny,
Porn for New Moms: From the Cambridge Women's Pornography Cooperative by
Cambridge Women's Pornography Cooperative, Susan Anderson - A nice collection of hot men handling babies, talking about how they’ll change the diapers and do the laundry. Ah, a girl can dream.
For the new mom who is a bit clueless,
Safe Baby Handling Tips by David Sopp and Kelly Sopp – This illustrated board book offers great advice such as the following.
It also offers The Wheel of Responsibility for the couples to divvy up the tasks that pesky little babies demand so frequently. Never again will you have to play rock, paper, scissors to decide who has to change the next poopy diaper.
For the mom who is a misinformed Republican,
That's No Angry Mob, That's My Mom: Team Obama's Assault on Tea-Party, Talk-Radio Americans by Michael Graham - Then smack her upside the head with it for me.
For the single mom who makes bad decisions,
If You Want Closure in Your Relationship, Start with Your Legs: A Guide to Understanding Men by Big Boom – Another one that I’ve never read. I never really needed this advice. But I know a lot of people who do, including your mom.
Monday, May 3, 2010
Excuse Me While I Complain To The Marketing People
Dear Department Store Designers,
Why do you insist on putting your maternity and baby clothes in the corner of the store that is the farthest from the store’s entrance? Do you know who is buying these items? Fat, tired, pregnant ladies who don’t have the energy to walk from one far end of the mall or shopping center to the other.
I completely understand if you don’t want to put these items at the front of the store. After all, they are for a targeted market and do not have mass appeal. But do you really have to put them all the way in the back? Just the mere thought of trying to tackle the mall for what I want makes me tired, especially on a hot day. My lungs are being crushed by my ever expanding uterus. My feet are swollen from the heat. And sometimes, I'm dragging a year and a half year old around with me. Please, have a little mercy.
Perhaps you think it’s best to keep these departments near the restrooms, as I will need to get there as well at some point. I appreciate that line of thinking. Perhaps you think I need exercise. That’s probably true. But you really aren’t doing yourself any favors. I can very easily shop online. And while this might not hurt your company’s overall bottom line, it will hurt the local store as a profit center.
Love,
A Big Fat Pregnant Lady Who Loves Shopping And Is In An Uncomfortable State
Why do you insist on putting your maternity and baby clothes in the corner of the store that is the farthest from the store’s entrance? Do you know who is buying these items? Fat, tired, pregnant ladies who don’t have the energy to walk from one far end of the mall or shopping center to the other.
I completely understand if you don’t want to put these items at the front of the store. After all, they are for a targeted market and do not have mass appeal. But do you really have to put them all the way in the back? Just the mere thought of trying to tackle the mall for what I want makes me tired, especially on a hot day. My lungs are being crushed by my ever expanding uterus. My feet are swollen from the heat. And sometimes, I'm dragging a year and a half year old around with me. Please, have a little mercy.
Perhaps you think it’s best to keep these departments near the restrooms, as I will need to get there as well at some point. I appreciate that line of thinking. Perhaps you think I need exercise. That’s probably true. But you really aren’t doing yourself any favors. I can very easily shop online. And while this might not hurt your company’s overall bottom line, it will hurt the local store as a profit center.
Love,
A Big Fat Pregnant Lady Who Loves Shopping And Is In An Uncomfortable State
Thursday, April 22, 2010
Suck It, Lactation Consultants!
Consider this your warning. I will likely be telling you this during my hospital stay when I have baby #2.
This baby has 36 hours to figure out how to latch and nurse properly. If she doesn’t get it, I’m going to pump. I’m sure you will have an opinion on this. I’m sure you will try to use it to influence me. I simply do not care what it is.
Last time around, the nurses gave my daughter a few ounces of formula while I napped. I didn’t need your snippy little comment about that later. If you had a problem with it, you should have said something to the nurse who gave it to her, not me. I was not even conscious when it happened. The baby was turning yellow and was obviously hungry. So she ate. I, her mother, was not bothered by it. So I don’t know why you should be.
All parties also became extremely frustrated in our previous experience as well, including the baby, my husband, the hospital staff and me. I reached a point where I was dreading my child waking up because I didn’t want to deal with it. Motherhood should not feel that way. Enjoying your child is imperative. When I finally decided to pump exclusively, I felt as though a gigantic weight had left my shoulders. I relaxed and had fun with my baby.
I'm not the picture of dietary health. If my child has to supplement with formula, it might actually be better than passing along all the processed foods that I consume. After having major surgery, I don't foresee having the ability or even the desire to go out and shop and cook fresh foods. I can barely do that now with a toddler. It's baby formula, with iron, vitamins and nutrients. It's not like I'm slapping a nipple on a bottle of Clorox.
I don’t want to hear that it’s “double duty” or “a lot of work.” It’s not. With my pump, I can produce twice as much milk in 20 minutes than she would likely take in a 45 minute nursing session. My husband can give her a bottle while I rest and recover. I can store the excess milk for a later time, which will keep her fed longer. I know exactly how much she has eaten, if it’s too much or too little. My first child also slept through the night by 11 weeks. Many breastfed children have trouble sleeping because the parents are unable to monitor and control how full the baby’s stomachs are. I never had that problem and was able to sleep well throughout the night as well.
And I never had to whip out my boob in public. Sure, carrying milk around can be a pain in the ass. But with two kids under the age of two, I don’t think I’m going to be going too many places anyway.
You may be an expert on nursing but I am the expert of my family. I managed to make this work last time and I’m willing to try again. Ultimately, I am the one who is going to have to live with the decision. My child and I will later be forgotten and inconsequential to you. I know it’s your job but this is my life.
This baby has 36 hours to figure out how to latch and nurse properly. If she doesn’t get it, I’m going to pump. I’m sure you will have an opinion on this. I’m sure you will try to use it to influence me. I simply do not care what it is.
Last time around, the nurses gave my daughter a few ounces of formula while I napped. I didn’t need your snippy little comment about that later. If you had a problem with it, you should have said something to the nurse who gave it to her, not me. I was not even conscious when it happened. The baby was turning yellow and was obviously hungry. So she ate. I, her mother, was not bothered by it. So I don’t know why you should be.
All parties also became extremely frustrated in our previous experience as well, including the baby, my husband, the hospital staff and me. I reached a point where I was dreading my child waking up because I didn’t want to deal with it. Motherhood should not feel that way. Enjoying your child is imperative. When I finally decided to pump exclusively, I felt as though a gigantic weight had left my shoulders. I relaxed and had fun with my baby.
I'm not the picture of dietary health. If my child has to supplement with formula, it might actually be better than passing along all the processed foods that I consume. After having major surgery, I don't foresee having the ability or even the desire to go out and shop and cook fresh foods. I can barely do that now with a toddler. It's baby formula, with iron, vitamins and nutrients. It's not like I'm slapping a nipple on a bottle of Clorox.
I don’t want to hear that it’s “double duty” or “a lot of work.” It’s not. With my pump, I can produce twice as much milk in 20 minutes than she would likely take in a 45 minute nursing session. My husband can give her a bottle while I rest and recover. I can store the excess milk for a later time, which will keep her fed longer. I know exactly how much she has eaten, if it’s too much or too little. My first child also slept through the night by 11 weeks. Many breastfed children have trouble sleeping because the parents are unable to monitor and control how full the baby’s stomachs are. I never had that problem and was able to sleep well throughout the night as well.
And I never had to whip out my boob in public. Sure, carrying milk around can be a pain in the ass. But with two kids under the age of two, I don’t think I’m going to be going too many places anyway.
You may be an expert on nursing but I am the expert of my family. I managed to make this work last time and I’m willing to try again. Ultimately, I am the one who is going to have to live with the decision. My child and I will later be forgotten and inconsequential to you. I know it’s your job but this is my life.
Tuesday, April 20, 2010
Finding My Niche
Over the weekend, I attended a writers’ conference. One of the seminars centered upon building a brand and finding your niche. It was a great presentation but it left me feeling a little lost.
The point to finding your niche is to become an expert at a topic you are passionate about, writing about it and marketing your work. There has to be money in the topic. Somewhere, someone has to be buying and selling something surrounding the subject. It has to appeal to businesses or trade publications so that you can sell your work.
This left me questioning what my niche is, exactly. Once upon a time, it may have been finance or credit. And it could still be, possibly. My hobbies include concert going, scrap booking and just about anything that the marketing types would call “experiencing,” such as hot air balloon rides or visiting new restaurants and bars.
Lately, however, my life has centered on being a mom and all things to do with babies and toddlers. I would never consider myself to be “an expert mom,” as I have sort of been fumbling through the motions figuring this whole thing out. My own mother has been deceased for ten years, so I don’t have her to turn to when I have questions. I rely on friends, my sister and mommy message boards for advice. I suppose I could take these lessons and pass them along to others like me. I try to keep my topics here diverse, as not all of my readers are parents and I don’t want to bore them. Try as I might to avoid the subject, this blog seems to gravitate to mommy issues. I should add that the "niche blog" would be its own entity, separate from this blog.
The problem is that I hate “mommy blogs.” Unless I know the author or her children personally, I tend to not care or be bored by their stories and pictures. I don’t want to be “that mom.” I don’t want it to be personal for other reasons as well. The internet is a scary place where weirdoes congregate. I don’t want them to learn too much about my children. If I did a real mommy blog, I would probably take a page out of Michael Jackson’s book and put masks or paper bags over my children’s faces before taking a picture that I would post. Or, if they were really bad that day, I’d use plastic bags.
Maybe that’s where the answer lies. Maybe I need to be that mom that does things a little differently; the one that isn’t offended when the Elmo Camera says, “Work it baby! Give it to Elmo!” Or I could be the mom who openly admits that she lets her daughter stay in her jammies all day and feeds her leftover cold pizza for lunch and apple juice that isn’t organic. The mom that’s different or alternative.
Or maybe I should just write about concerts.
The point to finding your niche is to become an expert at a topic you are passionate about, writing about it and marketing your work. There has to be money in the topic. Somewhere, someone has to be buying and selling something surrounding the subject. It has to appeal to businesses or trade publications so that you can sell your work.
This left me questioning what my niche is, exactly. Once upon a time, it may have been finance or credit. And it could still be, possibly. My hobbies include concert going, scrap booking and just about anything that the marketing types would call “experiencing,” such as hot air balloon rides or visiting new restaurants and bars.
Lately, however, my life has centered on being a mom and all things to do with babies and toddlers. I would never consider myself to be “an expert mom,” as I have sort of been fumbling through the motions figuring this whole thing out. My own mother has been deceased for ten years, so I don’t have her to turn to when I have questions. I rely on friends, my sister and mommy message boards for advice. I suppose I could take these lessons and pass them along to others like me. I try to keep my topics here diverse, as not all of my readers are parents and I don’t want to bore them. Try as I might to avoid the subject, this blog seems to gravitate to mommy issues. I should add that the "niche blog" would be its own entity, separate from this blog.
The problem is that I hate “mommy blogs.” Unless I know the author or her children personally, I tend to not care or be bored by their stories and pictures. I don’t want to be “that mom.” I don’t want it to be personal for other reasons as well. The internet is a scary place where weirdoes congregate. I don’t want them to learn too much about my children. If I did a real mommy blog, I would probably take a page out of Michael Jackson’s book and put masks or paper bags over my children’s faces before taking a picture that I would post. Or, if they were really bad that day, I’d use plastic bags.
Maybe that’s where the answer lies. Maybe I need to be that mom that does things a little differently; the one that isn’t offended when the Elmo Camera says, “Work it baby! Give it to Elmo!” Or I could be the mom who openly admits that she lets her daughter stay in her jammies all day and feeds her leftover cold pizza for lunch and apple juice that isn’t organic
Or maybe I should just write about concerts.
Monday, April 5, 2010
An Open Letter To The Church Ladies
Dear Church Ladies:
Today I attended services at The Church of the Good Shepherd UCC in Alburtis, PA. I don’t consider myself to be a particularly religious person. I grew up Catholic and hold a lot of bitter sentiments toward the church's ideology. My husband is a member of your church and would like to raise our children to believe in God and Jesus Christ. I’m not opposed to the idea. I think that churches can teach positive values. Since your sect seems fairly open minded in regards to women and homosexuals, I feel most comfortable with your beliefs.
I’m not all that thrilled with your congregation, however. As an outsider and self proclaimed “Chreastian” (someone who tends to only attend services for Christmas and Easter), I just don’t feel very welcome in your church. One of the first women that spoke to me started asking questions about my daughter. They were not your typical, “What’s her name? How old is she?” kind of questions. I believe the exact question was, “You don’t bring her here much, do you?” My response was that we were just coming out of a long winter where she did not have a flu shot. I also told her that I am pregnant and also did not get a flu shot. I don’t think I’ve even gone to a grocery store since October. The flu in our house this winter would have been disastrous, possibly even dangerous. She didn’t say much else but when it came time for the neighborly “peace of Christ be with you” handshake part of the service her eyes immediately dropped to my bulging tummy and my ring finger. Isn’t it good manners to make eye contact when shaking someone’s hand?
The minister was fairly friendly today, although on other occasions he has passed along a guilt trip for not showing up. I know it’s his job to make sure people attend services. I won’t keep showing up if you’re going to be an ass to me. But I won’t dwell on past incidents since today you were cool. You didn’t even beg for money during your sermon, which from what I hear is commonplace. I don’t know if your wife was in attendance today or not. It seems that other times I have been there she was missing. I will forgive this, though, as I’m sure she’s very busy keeping that glass house of yours clean.
I do have to call the minister’s leadership into question as it appears that he lets a lot of you Church Ladies, especially those of you involved with the various choirs, run the show. I chose to attend Christmas services at a different church this year because your choir chose to have its cantata on Christmas Eve rather than a traditional service. To me, this gives the impression of wanting to show off to the people who don’t attend services as much, capturing a bigger audience. The problem with this is that I have a toddler and another baby on the way. Stretching what could be a 45-minute service out to an hour and a half is taxing on her and taxing me, especially my balance and bladder. I had to hold both the baby and my pee for a very long time this morning. I also got a little dizzy. And I was patiently waiting for my daughter to throw a fit or blow out the diaper under her pristine white bloomers. But we got lucky today. Since I only attend services twice a year, I have no reason to believe that this is not typical. I can’t make it through the hour and a half every week. I just can’t. As I mentioned before, I grew up Catholic. We had services on Saturday nights so that we wouldn’t have to get up early on Sundays. Those services also only lasted 25 minutes or so. I’m conditioned for a sprint, not a marathon.
Perhaps if I got the warm fuzzy feeling at your church, I would visit more often. Perhaps if we could compromise on how long and involved the service is, I’d feel more comfortable and even enjoy what’s going on. But this just feels like an awkward chore, or like high school gym class all over again. Everyone is checking me out and it’s too long and physically laborious. I guess I’ll just see you all again at Christmas, unless you decide to do the Cantata again.
Love,
A Chreastian
Today I attended services at The Church of the Good Shepherd UCC in Alburtis, PA. I don’t consider myself to be a particularly religious person. I grew up Catholic and hold a lot of bitter sentiments toward the church's ideology. My husband is a member of your church and would like to raise our children to believe in God and Jesus Christ. I’m not opposed to the idea. I think that churches can teach positive values. Since your sect seems fairly open minded in regards to women and homosexuals, I feel most comfortable with your beliefs.
I’m not all that thrilled with your congregation, however. As an outsider and self proclaimed “Chreastian” (someone who tends to only attend services for Christmas and Easter), I just don’t feel very welcome in your church. One of the first women that spoke to me started asking questions about my daughter. They were not your typical, “What’s her name? How old is she?” kind of questions. I believe the exact question was, “You don’t bring her here much, do you?” My response was that we were just coming out of a long winter where she did not have a flu shot. I also told her that I am pregnant and also did not get a flu shot. I don’t think I’ve even gone to a grocery store since October. The flu in our house this winter would have been disastrous, possibly even dangerous. She didn’t say much else but when it came time for the neighborly “peace of Christ be with you” handshake part of the service her eyes immediately dropped to my bulging tummy and my ring finger. Isn’t it good manners to make eye contact when shaking someone’s hand?
The minister was fairly friendly today, although on other occasions he has passed along a guilt trip for not showing up. I know it’s his job to make sure people attend services. I won’t keep showing up if you’re going to be an ass to me. But I won’t dwell on past incidents since today you were cool. You didn’t even beg for money during your sermon, which from what I hear is commonplace. I don’t know if your wife was in attendance today or not. It seems that other times I have been there she was missing. I will forgive this, though, as I’m sure she’s very busy keeping that glass house of yours clean.
I do have to call the minister’s leadership into question as it appears that he lets a lot of you Church Ladies, especially those of you involved with the various choirs, run the show. I chose to attend Christmas services at a different church this year because your choir chose to have its cantata on Christmas Eve rather than a traditional service. To me, this gives the impression of wanting to show off to the people who don’t attend services as much, capturing a bigger audience. The problem with this is that I have a toddler and another baby on the way. Stretching what could be a 45-minute service out to an hour and a half is taxing on her and taxing me, especially my balance and bladder. I had to hold both the baby and my pee for a very long time this morning. I also got a little dizzy. And I was patiently waiting for my daughter to throw a fit or blow out the diaper under her pristine white bloomers. But we got lucky today. Since I only attend services twice a year, I have no reason to believe that this is not typical. I can’t make it through the hour and a half every week. I just can’t. As I mentioned before, I grew up Catholic. We had services on Saturday nights so that we wouldn’t have to get up early on Sundays. Those services also only lasted 25 minutes or so. I’m conditioned for a sprint, not a marathon.
Perhaps if I got the warm fuzzy feeling at your church, I would visit more often. Perhaps if we could compromise on how long and involved the service is, I’d feel more comfortable and even enjoy what’s going on. But this just feels like an awkward chore, or like high school gym class all over again. Everyone is checking me out and it’s too long and physically laborious. I guess I’ll just see you all again at Christmas, unless you decide to do the Cantata again.
Love,
A Chreastian
Wednesday, March 31, 2010
Ten Things I Will Miss About Being Pregnant
I figured I would give the opposotion equal time after my last blog.
1. Feeling the baby move. I know it’s cliché but it really is the coolest thing about being pregnant, even if my husband thinks it’s creepy.
2. Having an excuse to take it easy. Naps, heavy lifting, having an excuse not to go somewhere because you’re not feeling well will be missed.
3. Only having one kid to keep under control. God help me on this one.
4. Non-leaky boobs. I really don’t need an excuse for extra padding. My girls are big enough.
5. Healing quickly. It always amazes me how quickly my cuts, scabs and blemishes heal when I’m pregnant. I'm like that cheerleader on Heroes. Lord knows my c-section incision and pain will not go away that fast.
6. Thicker hair. On my head anyway.
7. Sleeping peacefully. For the most part, as long as you exclude getting up to pee five times every night and rolling over 20 times so that my shoulder doesn’t fall asleep.
8. Maternity pants. Pants with elastic waists are so comfy.
9. Looking fat and not being judged by skinny people. This is the one time where you can work a big belly and not have the Judgy Judgersons give you a look of disgust.
10. Not having my period. My doctor has advised against endometrial ablation along with my tubal ligation, despite my asking, “If you’re going to close the factory, what is the point of continuing to send smoke out the smokestack?”
1. Feeling the baby move. I know it’s cliché but it really is the coolest thing about being pregnant, even if my husband thinks it’s creepy.
2. Having an excuse to take it easy. Naps, heavy lifting, having an excuse not to go somewhere because you’re not feeling well will be missed.
3. Only having one kid to keep under control. God help me on this one.
4. Non-leaky boobs. I really don’t need an excuse for extra padding. My girls are big enough.
5. Healing quickly. It always amazes me how quickly my cuts, scabs and blemishes heal when I’m pregnant. I'm like that cheerleader on Heroes. Lord knows my c-section incision and pain will not go away that fast.
6. Thicker hair. On my head anyway.
7. Sleeping peacefully. For the most part, as long as you exclude getting up to pee five times every night and rolling over 20 times so that my shoulder doesn’t fall asleep.
8. Maternity pants. Pants with elastic waists are so comfy.
9. Looking fat and not being judged by skinny people. This is the one time where you can work a big belly and not have the Judgy Judgersons give you a look of disgust.
10. Not having my period. My doctor has advised against endometrial ablation along with my tubal ligation, despite my asking, “If you’re going to close the factory, what is the point of continuing to send smoke out the smokestack?”
Monday, March 29, 2010
Ten Things I Can't Wait To Do When This Baby Stuff Is All Over
1. Try Zumba. It looks like so much fun! And I will need to work off the baby weight.
2. Drink a big glass of sangria. Oddly enough, sangria was the last alcoholic drink that I had.
3.Wear my wedding rings again. I’ve been wearing a fake on my swollen fingersfor a few months.
4. Eat a hoagie. I’m too paranoid about this whole listeria thing.
5. Breathe normally. I’m now in that uncomfortable stage where my lungs are being crushed, causing a lot of fatigue.
6. Finding a guilty pleasure late night show on TV to watch while nursing. Last time, I learned a lot from the Trivial Pursuit game show at 4 AM.
7. Drink a giant iced tea from the kiosk place in the lower level of the Lehigh Valley Mall. I’m thinking pineapple tea would be good.
8. Whiten my teeth. Despite avoiding caffeine, they are turning yellow.
9. Stop answering the question, "How are you feeling?" I do feel kind of crappy but I'm pretty sure no one wants to hear about it.
10. Sleep on my stomach. No more pins and needles on my shoulder, unless I choose to do some acupunture.
2. Drink a big glass of sangria. Oddly enough, sangria was the last alcoholic drink that I had.
3.Wear my wedding rings again. I’ve been wearing a fake on my swollen fingersfor a few months.
4. Eat a hoagie. I’m too paranoid about this whole listeria thing.
5. Breathe normally. I’m now in that uncomfortable stage where my lungs are being crushed, causing a lot of fatigue.
6. Finding a guilty pleasure late night show on TV to watch while nursing. Last time, I learned a lot from the Trivial Pursuit game show at 4 AM.
7. Drink a giant iced tea from the kiosk place in the lower level of the Lehigh Valley Mall. I’m thinking pineapple tea would be good.
8. Whiten my teeth. Despite avoiding caffeine, they are turning yellow.
9. Stop answering the question, "How are you feeling?" I do feel kind of crappy but I'm pretty sure no one wants to hear about it.
10. Sleep on my stomach. No more pins and needles on my shoulder, unless I choose to do some acupunture.
Thursday, March 25, 2010
It's Not All Wine And Roses. Sometimes, It's Just Whine And Bitch
This is going to sound like a big ol’ pity party, so feel free to skip this one. I just have to vent and move on.
I feel stuck. I’m tired and lonely. I sit in my house all day with my baby, playing Peek A Boo and watching Sesame Street videos. When I do leave the house, I’m exhausted by the time I get myself ready, the baby ready, pack the diaper bag and load the car. Just the thought of it makes me want to crawl into bed and take a nap.
I feel very isolated. I’ve made plans with friends several times over the last few weeks and they’ve been cancelled or changed without so much as a phone call. Then when I ask what’s going off, I’m told that the plans were changed to another time that already took place. I swear I’m not this pathetic around other people. I don’t know anyone in my area. I’ve tried to look for mom’s groups but there’s nothing around here. The ones that I’ve found either have very rigid rules for participation that I can’t commit to in this condition or they don’t meet all that often. I was able to join one of the latter but so far, in the three months that I’ve belonged, they’ve only met once to discuss a book that I have no interest in reading.
I could drop the baby off with my mother-in-law and go off on my own somewhere. But I’d still have to do all the prep work to get there. She also has her own stuff going on right now. I don’t want to interfere. And where would I go anyway? Plus, I always have some anxiety dropping her off, not to mention the mommy guilt.
My days have been mundane. I have no good stories to tell. I struggle to find fodder for this blog. I don’t mean to sound so “woe is me.” I’ll be too busy soon enough. So I guess I’ll just go back on You Tube and watch the Elmo’s Ducks video for the five thousandth time today.
I feel stuck. I’m tired and lonely. I sit in my house all day with my baby, playing Peek A Boo and watching Sesame Street videos. When I do leave the house, I’m exhausted by the time I get myself ready, the baby ready, pack the diaper bag and load the car. Just the thought of it makes me want to crawl into bed and take a nap.
I feel very isolated. I’ve made plans with friends several times over the last few weeks and they’ve been cancelled or changed without so much as a phone call. Then when I ask what’s going off, I’m told that the plans were changed to another time that already took place. I swear I’m not this pathetic around other people. I don’t know anyone in my area. I’ve tried to look for mom’s groups but there’s nothing around here. The ones that I’ve found either have very rigid rules for participation that I can’t commit to in this condition or they don’t meet all that often. I was able to join one of the latter but so far, in the three months that I’ve belonged, they’ve only met once to discuss a book that I have no interest in reading.
I could drop the baby off with my mother-in-law and go off on my own somewhere. But I’d still have to do all the prep work to get there. She also has her own stuff going on right now. I don’t want to interfere. And where would I go anyway? Plus, I always have some anxiety dropping her off, not to mention the mommy guilt.
My days have been mundane. I have no good stories to tell. I struggle to find fodder for this blog. I don’t mean to sound so “woe is me.” I’ll be too busy soon enough. So I guess I’ll just go back on You Tube and watch the Elmo’s Ducks video for the five thousandth time today.
Friday, March 12, 2010
You Can't Join My Play Group If...You Get All Up In A Pregnant Woman's Business
How to recognize them: If you’re pregnant, they’re watching you, staring at your every move. And they never know when to shut the fuck up.
Frequently heard saying: “You should drink eight ounces of water every hour.”
“You’re not going to drink a Diet Coke, are you? There’s caffeine and artificial sweeteners in there!”
“Don’t put that hot dog in your mouth!”
“Slow down! Walking too fast is going to get your heart rate and blood pressure up!”
“That’s too heavy! You can’t lift it!”
Why they bug: They’re not doctors. Their advice is not based on any medical authority whatsoever. And how I treat my body and my pet fetus is none of their business. Eight ounces of water every hour amounts to 192 ounces of water a day. I would pee every three minutes. Artificial sweeteners and caffeine are fine in small amounts. Hot dogs are okay as long as they’ve been cooked well. Getting your heart rate up is perfectly fine as long as your temperature is not also going up. In fact, exercise is good for you and will actually keep your blood pressure down. It’s okay to lift 50 pounds up to 20 weeks and roughly 20 or so pounds after 20 weeks. You won’t miscarry. Lifting heavy things is more of a concern for a pregnant woman’s back and balance than it is for causing early labor. But, if you want to carry this for me, maybe I shouldn’t stop you. I’m tired from walking too fast...to get away from you.
Their retort: “You think you have all the answers, don’t you? Just wait until you go into labor early!”
My response: Yeah, I do. Do you want to know why? I asked my doctor. She graduated in the top 10% of her class at med school. Did you? She isn’t concerned about any of these things. I can’t imagine why you would be.
Frequently heard saying: “You should drink eight ounces of water every hour.”
“You’re not going to drink a Diet Coke, are you? There’s caffeine and artificial sweeteners in there!”
“Don’t put that hot dog in your mouth!”
“Slow down! Walking too fast is going to get your heart rate and blood pressure up!”
“That’s too heavy! You can’t lift it!”
Why they bug: They’re not doctors. Their advice is not based on any medical authority whatsoever. And how I treat my body and my pet fetus is none of their business. Eight ounces of water every hour amounts to 192 ounces of water a day. I would pee every three minutes. Artificial sweeteners and caffeine are fine in small amounts. Hot dogs are okay as long as they’ve been cooked well. Getting your heart rate up is perfectly fine as long as your temperature is not also going up. In fact, exercise is good for you and will actually keep your blood pressure down. It’s okay to lift 50 pounds up to 20 weeks and roughly 20 or so pounds after 20 weeks. You won’t miscarry. Lifting heavy things is more of a concern for a pregnant woman’s back and balance than it is for causing early labor. But, if you want to carry this for me, maybe I shouldn’t stop you. I’m tired from walking too fast...to get away from you.
Their retort: “You think you have all the answers, don’t you? Just wait until you go into labor early!”
My response: Yeah, I do. Do you want to know why? I asked my doctor. She graduated in the top 10% of her class at med school. Did you? She isn’t concerned about any of these things. I can’t imagine why you would be.
Monday, March 8, 2010
The Sunshine Bores The Daylights Out Of Me
It’s such a beautiful day outside. The sun is shining. Although the air is somewhat crisp, no more than a light jacket is required for comfort. After a harsh winter, a day like this should be welcomed, right?
Wrong.
All I want to do is take a nap today. I got up early to clean the house. Spent the morning keeping the baby out of trouble and working on her physical therapy. She is now exhausted and napping contently in her crib. And I’m beat. I want a nap, too.
I know I should be out taking advantage of this gorgeous weather. I feel this horrible internal pressure telling me to not put on my jammies and get under the covers. I should take her to the park when she wakes up. Or, at the very least, I should go shopping or something. I hear a million people telling me that I should get out of the house.
Beautiful days and the pressure they bring are evil. People always say things that make me feel like I need to get some sun. Phooey. I hate that pressure. The sun makes my eyes teary. And it’s not that warm outside. I like being a pale recluse with insomnia. I am the thing that goes bump in the night. But I know it’s not good for my kid to not get fresh air. So I will suck it up and go to a park or to a store. I will take her out in public and pray that she does not have a diva like meltdown.
Tomorrow. It’s still going to be nice out, right?
Wrong.
All I want to do is take a nap today. I got up early to clean the house. Spent the morning keeping the baby out of trouble and working on her physical therapy. She is now exhausted and napping contently in her crib. And I’m beat. I want a nap, too.
I know I should be out taking advantage of this gorgeous weather. I feel this horrible internal pressure telling me to not put on my jammies and get under the covers. I should take her to the park when she wakes up. Or, at the very least, I should go shopping or something. I hear a million people telling me that I should get out of the house.
Beautiful days and the pressure they bring are evil. People always say things that make me feel like I need to get some sun. Phooey. I hate that pressure. The sun makes my eyes teary. And it’s not that warm outside. I like being a pale recluse with insomnia. I am the thing that goes bump in the night. But I know it’s not good for my kid to not get fresh air. So I will suck it up and go to a park or to a store. I will take her out in public and pray that she does not have a diva like meltdown.
Tomorrow. It’s still going to be nice out, right?
Saturday, February 27, 2010
You Can't Join My Play Group If...You Think You Deserve A Medal For Giving Birth Naturally
BLOGGER'S NOTE: This is a variation of the Creep Of The Week feature of my other blog.
How to recognize them: Female with child(ren), she often likes to put herself in ridiculous situations and play the victim card. Then she expects the rest of us to be in awe of her fortitude for something she did not have to go through in the first place. Also, she has an extremely stretched out vagina.
Frequently heard saying: “My little Cole was 12 lbs at birth. AND I had him NATURALLY." (After saything this, she pauses for admiration).
“It’s called labor for a reason.”
“Honey, can you rub a little something on my perineum?”
“OWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW!!!!! MY HOO HA!!!!”
Why they bug: This is completely unnecessary. Are you aware that you are not in a third world country and there are lots and lots of good drugs for this? Why waste technology? The only person who will be hurt by this is you. And your kids are never going to care how you got them out of you, no matter how hard you try to guilt them. And we know you will try to guilt them.
Their retort: “Giving birth is a natural process.” “Your vagina was created to stretch itself enough to pass a child through it.” “Women have been giving birth without drugs for thousands of years. You don’t need drugs.” “I just spent the last nine months without so much as a drop of caffeine. I’m not going to blow all that now."
My response: An epidural is the payoff of being drug free all this time. I’m sleepy. Give the epidural so that I can take a nap while I dilate. Sleeping during labor is the best part. Lord knows your sleep will not be as easily attained after labor is over.
How to recognize them: Female with child(ren), she often likes to put herself in ridiculous situations and play the victim card. Then she expects the rest of us to be in awe of her fortitude for something she did not have to go through in the first place. Also, she has an extremely stretched out vagina.
Frequently heard saying: “My little Cole was 12 lbs at birth. AND I had him NATURALLY." (After saything this, she pauses for admiration).
“It’s called labor for a reason.”
“Honey, can you rub a little something on my perineum?”
“OWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW!!!!! MY HOO HA!!!!”
Why they bug: This is completely unnecessary. Are you aware that you are not in a third world country and there are lots and lots of good drugs for this? Why waste technology? The only person who will be hurt by this is you. And your kids are never going to care how you got them out of you, no matter how hard you try to guilt them. And we know you will try to guilt them.
Their retort: “Giving birth is a natural process.” “Your vagina was created to stretch itself enough to pass a child through it.” “Women have been giving birth without drugs for thousands of years. You don’t need drugs.” “I just spent the last nine months without so much as a drop of caffeine. I’m not going to blow all that now."
My response: An epidural is the payoff of being drug free all this time. I’m sleepy. Give the epidural so that I can take a nap while I dilate. Sleeping during labor is the best part. Lord knows your sleep will not be as easily attained after labor is over.
Thursday, February 25, 2010
Sweet Dreams, Baby!
In the past few weeks, I have heard a lot of moms complaining that their babies are not sleeping. There are experts out there making mints off various methods. Since I have managed to raise a good sleeper (*knock on wood*), I am going to share what I have learned with you.
1. It’s never too early to get started on a sleep routine. My dad, a man who raised four girls, taught this to me. I figured he had to know something. He told me to start developing patterns and routines from the day that I got home from the hospital. Work it around your lifestyle if you have to. What worked best for us was a routine in which the baby would sleep at hour and a half to two hour intervals throughout the day and be awake for the same amount of time in between.
2. Establish a regular bedtime and stick to it. We chose 8:30 pm but ranged as early as 8:00 pm and as late as 9:00 pm. This is all part of keeping the routine.
3. Give the baby a bottle. Even if you’re breastfeeding, give the baby a bottle of expressed breast milk. This way you will know exactly how much the baby has had and that his tummy is full.
4. Don’t bathe the baby immediately before bed. It is often advised that a bath should be part of the baby’s bedtime schedule. However, water can be stimulating for some babies. Try bathing earlier in the day or, if your schedule allows, in the morning. Also, if your baby has a lot of hair, you probably don’t want to put her in the crib with a wet head as it may lead to making your mattress moldy and funky.
5. Swaddle or use a special blanket only at bedtime. This will condition the baby to associate the blanket with sleeping. My daughter always broke out of swaddles so I recommend the Halo Sleepsack because it zips, making it very difficult for your baby Houdini to escape.
6. Keep the temperature and the lights down. Dark and cool make for the most comfortable sleeping conditions, especially if the baby is snuggled up in a blanky.
7. Remove any distractions from the crib. I’ve heard a lot of women complaining and wondering what to do when their child wakes up in the middle of the night, throws their toys or blankets out of the crib and then cries until a half asleep mommy comes into the room to rescue them. End the game by taking the ball and going home. If they’re going to throw it out of the crib, they don’t need it. The baby is only training you to play fetch.
8. Cry it out – but not for too long. It’s not good to let your child cry for too long, especially if they are the type to hold their breath while doing it. Crying for longer than 10 minutes can lead to brain damage. However, most babies are never going to cry for that long. They will get bored with the crying or wear themselves out.
9.If your baby cries for five minutes or more, get him up. Read a story or play with a quiet toy. Rock the baby. Sing a song. Try all the tried and true things that your mother and grandmother suggested and used with you.
10. Nighttime Oragel for baby, nightcap for you. Teething can be a big culprit in the staying awake game. Be sure that during the baby’s nighttime dental routine you are also addressing any teething issues. And when all else fails, have a glass of wine (unless you are also expecting another baby). A calmer mommy will make for a calmer baby. Getting freaked out and angry will only agitate or scare your little one more.
1. It’s never too early to get started on a sleep routine. My dad, a man who raised four girls, taught this to me. I figured he had to know something. He told me to start developing patterns and routines from the day that I got home from the hospital. Work it around your lifestyle if you have to. What worked best for us was a routine in which the baby would sleep at hour and a half to two hour intervals throughout the day and be awake for the same amount of time in between.
2. Establish a regular bedtime and stick to it. We chose 8:30 pm but ranged as early as 8:00 pm and as late as 9:00 pm. This is all part of keeping the routine.
3. Give the baby a bottle. Even if you’re breastfeeding, give the baby a bottle of expressed breast milk. This way you will know exactly how much the baby has had and that his tummy is full.
4. Don’t bathe the baby immediately before bed. It is often advised that a bath should be part of the baby’s bedtime schedule. However, water can be stimulating for some babies. Try bathing earlier in the day or, if your schedule allows, in the morning. Also, if your baby has a lot of hair, you probably don’t want to put her in the crib with a wet head as it may lead to making your mattress moldy and funky.
5. Swaddle or use a special blanket only at bedtime. This will condition the baby to associate the blanket with sleeping. My daughter always broke out of swaddles so I recommend the Halo Sleepsack because it zips, making it very difficult for your baby Houdini to escape.
6. Keep the temperature and the lights down. Dark and cool make for the most comfortable sleeping conditions, especially if the baby is snuggled up in a blanky.
7. Remove any distractions from the crib. I’ve heard a lot of women complaining and wondering what to do when their child wakes up in the middle of the night, throws their toys or blankets out of the crib and then cries until a half asleep mommy comes into the room to rescue them. End the game by taking the ball and going home. If they’re going to throw it out of the crib, they don’t need it. The baby is only training you to play fetch.
8. Cry it out – but not for too long. It’s not good to let your child cry for too long, especially if they are the type to hold their breath while doing it. Crying for longer than 10 minutes can lead to brain damage. However, most babies are never going to cry for that long. They will get bored with the crying or wear themselves out.
9.If your baby cries for five minutes or more, get him up. Read a story or play with a quiet toy. Rock the baby. Sing a song. Try all the tried and true things that your mother and grandmother suggested and used with you.
10. Nighttime Oragel for baby, nightcap for you. Teething can be a big culprit in the staying awake game. Be sure that during the baby’s nighttime dental routine you are also addressing any teething issues. And when all else fails, have a glass of wine (unless you are also expecting another baby). A calmer mommy will make for a calmer baby. Getting freaked out and angry will only agitate or scare your little one more.
Wednesday, February 17, 2010
Pregnant Women Lie
"I don't care if it's a boy or a girl, as long as it's healthy."
We've all heard this statement before. It is clearly a load of bullshit.
I understand fully that a healthy baby is certainly a priority. When I was pregnant last time and had to have an amnio (which ended up being botched, resulting in a need for a second amnio), wanting a tiny little girl in a fluffy pink blanket was certainly put aside for a more dire concern. But it never went away. And I was crazy excited when the amnio results came and confirmed what the doctor who performed the amnio seemed to find a bit iffy - that my dreams of tea parties, dolls and puppet shows were about to become a reality.
Why can't people just admit they have a preference? Why can't you want a healthy boy or a healthy girl? And really, even if that child is not healthy, will you love it less? I would think that a mother's love for an ailing child is even more profound since there is more on the line and the possibility of something going horribly wrong is a reality that she always stares in the face.
I write this on the eve of my big ultrasound which will hopefully show a healthy child but also the genitals that I prefer. And I get being a little depressed about not getting what you want. For me, one outcome should go off without a hitch and the other will be a bigger challenge in terms of logistics and certain practical elements, like what to name the baby when neither of us can agree and no one wants to back down.
I assure you that I will love this baby no matter what it is, as long as it's not a republican. But there is a certain way that I want things to go tomorrow. And in my vow of honesty and throwing political correctness at the wind, I cannot deny it.
We've all heard this statement before. It is clearly a load of bullshit.
I understand fully that a healthy baby is certainly a priority. When I was pregnant last time and had to have an amnio (which ended up being botched, resulting in a need for a second amnio), wanting a tiny little girl in a fluffy pink blanket was certainly put aside for a more dire concern. But it never went away. And I was crazy excited when the amnio results came and confirmed what the doctor who performed the amnio seemed to find a bit iffy - that my dreams of tea parties, dolls and puppet shows were about to become a reality.
Why can't people just admit they have a preference? Why can't you want a healthy boy or a healthy girl? And really, even if that child is not healthy, will you love it less? I would think that a mother's love for an ailing child is even more profound since there is more on the line and the possibility of something going horribly wrong is a reality that she always stares in the face.
I write this on the eve of my big ultrasound which will hopefully show a healthy child but also the genitals that I prefer. And I get being a little depressed about not getting what you want. For me, one outcome should go off without a hitch and the other will be a bigger challenge in terms of logistics and certain practical elements, like what to name the baby when neither of us can agree and no one wants to back down.
I assure you that I will love this baby no matter what it is, as long as it's not a republican. But there is a certain way that I want things to go tomorrow. And in my vow of honesty and throwing political correctness at the wind, I cannot deny it.
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