Wednesday, December 31, 2014

32 week update brought to you from my couch

I went to the doctor on Monday to check out my placenta, and unfortunately it has not moved enough for them to advise a vaginal delivery. The nurse was ready to set a date for my c-section, and I basically begged her for one more ultrasound before scheduling. She was so nice, and said she did not see why we could not do another ultrasound 36 weeks.  She spoke to the doctor and he said that would be fine, but if it was still in the same place I will have a c-section at 37 weeks.

I am at all of this. I'm trying not to be a big baby about it, and if it happens then I will go into it with the best attitude I can muster up, but it just all sounds horrible. Like, if it were just a c-section with no placenta previa I would feel a lot better, but the risk of hemorrhaging, blood transfusions etc..  because of my fucked up placenta is like too much for me to deal with. I don't want to have a c-section and more importantly, I don't want to have one with a medical complication.

I've reached out to a bunch of friends who have had sections, and they have given me great advice. I now have a list of questions for my doctor next week when I see her. I didn't even know what I should ask so now I feel a bit more informed

I guess I'm sort of doing a birth plan. I don't want to be totally out of it during surgery. I  would like to try to nurse immediately after (baring no medical/placenta complications) and some friends told me this was possible and that they did it, so I feel a bit better knowing this is at least somewhat of an option for me. I was told to get a tummy band, ask for glue and not stitches, walk around as soon as I can, what type of tea to drink for gas bubbles ( or something-I'm still confused about the potential gas thing) , and different ways to keep the incision site comfortable and pain free.

I've also gotten really stupid advice like, "You will not love your baby any less if you have a c-section" and things of that nature. F you. I'm not an asshole. I just don't want my stomach cut open for major abdominal surgery and to be bedridden any longer than I need to be. It has nothing to do with loving my daughter. AGGHHHH. That actually gets me fired up, so I will stop thinking about it.

As placenta previa is an extremely seriously medical complication during vaginal birth, I am very thankful that there is another option. I really am. I'm just super scared and disappointed. My birth with G was easy I think as far as birth goes. I pushed for 21 minutes and was walking around, showering, shaving my legs within an hour or two. I just want that to happen again. Wah.

So anyway, in other news, life is getting difficult. I'm basically a pretty useless person these days. Being home for the holiday break is actually much harder than going to work. At work I sit at my desk and occasionally get up to go to the bathroom or something. At home I'm trying to clean, vacuum, chase dust bunnies, laundry, keep up with my's exhausting. It usually takes me about 2 hours to clean my entire house and Monday it took me ALL DAY to just straighten up and vacuum downstairs because I kept laying on the couch and falling asleep every 20 minutes.

My insides are so squished that I don't even feel like eating, but I'm forcing food down my throat because I feel so bad for baby I'm starving her or something. Reflux is terrible, I can't breath, ligaments feel like they are being ripped apart, and at the ultrasound the nurse confirmed that the baby is all over my bladder which is super annoying and painful, no to mention that (like her big sister) June is an extremely active baby and kicking the crap out of me even though she is only 4 lbs. Braxton Hicks contractions are in full swing, and this month I can't wait for my face and legs to get all swollen and gross looking because of all the extra fluid in my body.

Yippy Yay! Now the fun really begins!

Sunday, December 14, 2014

complain complain complain at your own risk!

I am 30 weeks this week and so freaking miserable I can't even stand to listen to my own inner monologue. Wanna know why? Because it is this all day.










See? This is how I feel all day. I want to just sleep and forget that all of this is happening inside my body. My stomach feels like it is in my throat, my enormous boobs feel like they are being cut open with knives, headaches, reflux, gas.

I can feel feet, elbows, head down, kick, kick, kick...I just feel like it is way too early for all of this. I still have 10 weeks to go, 10 lbs to gain! The stupid thing is that I have only gained 20 I am 120 lbs. That is not heavy. So why do I feel like a giant whale when I try to walk up the steps, or down, the steps, or anything?!

Today Chris and I were making breakfast and I was just bumping into everything. My equilibrium is all of, I don't know how to balance myself. I was bumping into my husband, the refrigerator, chairs, oven, dog, counter. I wanted to scream. I had a major meltdown around 2PM today because I just could not get the sheets on my bed and I just started crying.

I hear my 3 year old Georgia say to Chris, " Dad, just leave her alone. Sometimes girls need to cry." And that made me cry harder because I feel like I have been totally neglecting her because I am so exhausted. I just pass the F out on the weekends, and stay in bed if I can because life is just too hard to live. I hate going places, I hate talking to people, I hate zippering my coat, I hate putting my shoes on, I hate maternity clothes. I hate all of it. BLAH.

And the worst part is,  I know it isn't over when the baby gets here. I have to deal with all of that postpartum bleeding, leaking, spraying, hair falling out bullshit that no one ever talks about. I'm scared I'm going to have post postpartum anxiety again, I don't want to be covered in vomit for a month. The sleep part I don't care about because I basically stopped sleeping 4 years ago when we had Georgia. I'm like always listening for her, even when she is in our bed, and I have had major insomnia for the last 12 weeks, so being up at 3AM with a baby just doesn't seem that bad to me. At least I will be useful to someone.

I think that is the other issue here. I feel so useless. I feel like a bad mom and wife. I just feel like crap.

Oh,I had a re-check on Tuesday from my hospital stay the week before.  I woke up last week to blood all over the place, and was admitted to the hospital for two days. Good times. I was fine, the docs are worried about my placenta previa. I go on 12/29 to determine if I am going to need a c-section or not, so that is like freaking me out too.

I do not want a c-section. I do not want my abdomen cut open. That just sounds so horrible to me, AND not to mention I watched a c-section on youtube and wanted to die while watching it. I know millions of people have them, but I would just rather push a person out of my vagina, thanks. Neither option is appealing, but out the vag is the lesser of two evils in my book. So anyway, I am mentally preparing for the c-section which is stressful AND if I do get one it will be at 37 weeks which is all the more upsetting but I understand medically why it has to happen. Yes, I understand medically why it has to happen. Research has been done by me. There is no way to move the placenta yourself, and the risks of the c-section are way less than the risks of me hemorrhaging and bleeding out and dying if I try for a vaginal birth with a placenta covering most of my cervix.

So anyway, I go to my recheck and I saw a new doctor who I have never spoken to. He was nice, got me an appointment afterwards to get my flu shot and Tdap vaccine, said the baby sounded good and whatever. Then at the end of the appointment he goes, "Okay you're all set kiddo!"

Kiddo? What the what? I was so stunned I couldn't say anything.  I'm sorry, it's really stupid to call a 37 year old pregnant lady "kiddo" I was so mad for some reason.  (Uh..probably because everything is making me mad?)

 Anyway, then I go the nurse for my vaccines and she lifts up my sleeve to do the shot and says, "Oh you are so cute, I should use the little baby needles for your arm" and she's talking to me the entire time like I'm a kid. She asked how many kids I was planning on having and I was all like, I'm getting a tubal after this one lady, and she got genuinely concerned for me and started talking about making that type of decision...  Finally I'm like, "I'm 37 years old and I don't want to be pregnant when I'm 40" and she laughs in my face and said she thought I was 22.

First of all, is anyone looking at my freaking chart?  I AM OF ADVANCED MATERNAL AGE! You people couldn't shut the fuck up about it at the beginning of my pregnancy. But now that the baby is almost here, no one is looking at anything, and people think I'm like on my way to try out for 16 and pregnant. This is not the first time this has happened during my pregnancy, and for most of my life in general people have always thought that I am 10 years younger than I actually am, which is super dandy at my age, but doctors and nurses should not call pregnant ladies kiddo, or say they need a baby matter how old they are.  I am growing a person, there is  nothing babyish about it.

So. This is where I am mentally. I suck at being pregnant.

Tuesday, December 9, 2014

Short update

I have been hit with every third trimester symptom known to woman, except for birth itself.

Contractions? check!

Unbearable pelvic pressure? check!

Lower back pain? check!

Acid reflux that feels like fiery thorns coming up my throat? check!

Bleeding? Yep!

Shortness of breath, leaky boobs, insomnia,  major fatigue, cramps...all here and accounted for! Yippee!

I've been in touch with my doctor about everything, and spent two nights in the hospital to monitor the bleeding and my placenta previa. I received steroid shots in case June Lenore decideds to come early. They will help her lungs, as the lungs are the last organ to develop on the baby.

I don't think I can do this for two more months.

I mean, actually I CAN and I will, I just don't want to. Or not event that I don't want to, I need baby to stay in here as long as just seems..the next 10 weeks are going to suck I guess.  Blah.

Tuesday, December 2, 2014

No crib for a bed...

So with Christmas right around the corner, I've been thinking a lot about how I choose to celebrate the holiday with my daughter and how I feel about religion, and basically what is my responsibility as a parent regarding spirituality, religion, church and all of that stuff that I really don't feel like thinking about.

We don't go to church. I grew up Catholic, went to church every Sunday, went to CCD every week, but I don't practice now. I like some stories in the bible and I think many of them have good lessons that can be applied to my life, but I don't take them literally or think they actually happened.

The last time I did go to church (maybe it was a catholic wedding mass?) I did not take communion because I felt like it would be fake for me to do so.  I formed this opinion on my own without any outside influence, and basically I have been very happy with the idea that spirituality, goodness and grace can be found throughout the universe and not necessarily though God or Jesus. (I don't think they created the universe either, in case you are inclined to ask WHO DO YOU THINK GAVE YOU THIS UNIVERSE TO PUT ENERGY INTO. So. No.  This is not a debate on religion. I'm no debating it.)

Anyway, I work hard on putting positive energy back into the universe too, so that anyone who is looking for it or needs it may one day come across some of mine. I think that when I die I will be reborn as myself with a better understanding of how to balance my karma and learn from my mistakes, and finally when I reach a state of nirvana I will turn into a purple puff of energy that will positively surround my loved ones existing on earth. POOF BITCHES.

So anyway, Christmas.

Georgia is SOOO excited about Christmas. She says it is her favorite holiday, she loves the trees, the songs, the lights, presents of course. Of course we do the whole Santa Clause thing and she loves Santa and he's going to eat milk and cookies...blah blah blah. Actually it's pretty fun, but I DO feel very guilty about lying to her about this guy, and even guiltier when I say things like, 'Let me brush your hair or I'm calling Santa!"  And she looks at me with eyes full of terror, and then obediently stands in from of me so that I can brush her hair. Seriously, it breaks my heart, but damn our mornings are so much more productive now that the big guy is "watching".

So I was thinking about all of this this morning while trying to find a pair of pants that will fit my pregnant ass and then, all of a sudden I was like, "Why do I have absolutely no problem telling her about a fake man breaking into our house and eating our food, but I have a really big problem with telling her the story of baby Jesus and how Christmas came about?  And I'm just talking about #basicbitchchristmas too. Like, I know Jesus was actually born in April or something, and the story isn't the "real" story  and all of that. But that isn't what I mean.

I'm just talking about the story about the manger, wise men, donkeys,virgins, and a peppermint latte. It's sort of a really nice story  (except not really because who the hell wants to give birth in a barn in December, and why is that innkeeper such a dick?) . But the point is, I loved it when I was little. Although now that I am older the virgin part pisses me off, because WTF a woman who has sex or is sexual is not worthy of birthing the son of God? What fucking dipshit man made that up? Fuck you.

Anyway, and then I realized I am giving her absolutely no choice in the matter of religion or spirituality. I'm not even giving her a starting point. She can't choose whether or not to follow religion because there is no choice to make. We just don't talk about it. And a lot of people love religion and I am totally cool with that, and if Georgia one day wants to decide that religion is important in her life, who am I  to deny her of that?  So, I will be buying a book about Christmas day, away in a manger, some candy in wooden shoes,  and teach Georgia about Linus's very important Christmas message while I decide what to do about all of this.

Anyone else in this boat?

Thursday, November 20, 2014

I don't know what the hell I am talking about here...

One thing I am not concerned with this pregnancy is what EVERYONE ELSE is doing with their pregnancies. When I was pregnant with Georgia I got sucked into breastfeeding vs bottle, non medicated vs medicated birth, who is co-sleeping,  babywearing groups were full of drama and hilarious to read, I was not going to be one of "those" parents. I swore Georgia would never watch Disney movies or wear "character" shirts, and I tried very hard to fit Georgia into my life instead of adjusting my life to her. I wanted to fill her world with my 34 year old adult tastes, which is really stupid. I didn't even want to buy a jumperoo because it did not match my decor.

After Georgia was born, Chris and I still went out to dinner a lot. Brought sleeping infant with us, had some wine....or I would still go to brunch with my friends and tote her along. I wondered why people thought it was so hard to keep up an adult lifestyle  with a child. This is easy! She sleeps all the time...I must rule or something!

How STUPID is that?  Your sleeping infant  grows into a crazy 18 month old who grabs, throws, cries, spills, ..the restaurant days are over (at least for a while).

Yes, I know. Before you become a parent you will NEVER ALLOW YOUR CHILD TO ACT LIKE THAT IN PUBLIC. Yes, yes. It is so easy, and we are all dipshits except for you who has everything figured out before your fetus is is a glimmer in your eye. I know before I had kids I wasn't really too excited to be around them, but I never had this weird hatred of "parents" that seems to be in fashion these days. Kids are not allowed to be kids in public...but that is another blog for another day.

We had to stop going out to eat for a while until Georgia was older because 18 month olds are not tiny adults and taking them out with you sucks. She is almost 4 now and she is really good if we go out, but we did have to take a break for a while. I don't know why I am mentioning this at all, but it seemed worth mentioning!

Date night was also big on my list of things to do after baby. Find a babysitter, go out with Chris or have girls night with my friends. Chris and I took turns "taking a break" and hitting the town. This was important to me, to keep up some semblance of my adult lifestyle as I entered motherhood. The responsibility was overwhelming and sometimes unwanted. I was used to adults, not children and I did not want to do child centered things in the beginning. I didn't really realize I did not want to do them, but looking back, I really did not. I mean, we signed her up for music classes and everything, I'm not saying I ran out 7 days a week for karaoke or anything, but ME time was important to ME. The transition from childless 34 year old to 34 year old mother was ...not hard..but it was not easy. It took a while for me to feel comfortable being "mom".

Now. Now that I am pregnant with my second child. Now that I have had almost four years of carrying the enormous responsibility of being a mother. Now that the exhausting lifestyle of being a parent has settled all nice and cozy into my soul, I can tell you with 100% certainty that none of this shit is important to me. Friday night: popcorn, Beauty and the Beast,playing games like "bakery" and "who stole the treasure"  and pass out at 9PM. Saturday: cleaning, grocery shopping, meal planning, organizing for the week, Sunday-lay around and watch football.

This is not to say that I do not dream of going to happy hour or a concert or something that does not involve kids. I do. My sister and I have big plans to go out to a BYOB crepe restaurant after the baby is born ( "big plans' is sarcastic) and I am very excited to be out in the city, to not wear maternity clothes, and to drink a bottle of wine. But...I think I've settled into being a mom. I know for some women the change is immediate. And I feel badly that for me it was not, but it is what it is.  I still hate going to birthday parties and hopefully I will come around.

I'm not in any way shape or form "super mom". I'm pretty sure Georgia's 4th birthday will be a few friends over and pizza. I don't bake, sew, or make shit. I never remember to take a holiday card picture or to get matching holiday pajamas or to buy play elf on the shelf.

However, my daughter thinks I am hilarious and tells me all the time that I am the best mom ever. SHE thinks my crappy crafts are funny and tries to "fix" them. She teaches me french, we snuggle and cuddle and make up stories and kiss and hug and laugh, and yes sometimes argue. Sometimes she hits me and I make her apologize -just mentioning this so that everyone knows I'm not trying to make it all about rainbow clouds.

She told me the other day she was trying to make her hair look like mine because I was beautiful, and I almost died. It was the greatest compliment I have ever received because I know she believes I am a beautiful person, not in a physical way.She had no agenda, no negative motives, it was just exactly what she was feeling at the time.  I know this because it is exactly how I feel about my mom and grandmom. When I look at them I see beautiful women who make me feel safe and loved and I am beside myself that Georgia feels that way about me too, even with all of my faults. I know she will never love me in the horribly beautiful way that I love her, but we are building our bond and learning our roles, and as she is my first child, I'm letting her teach me as much as I teach her.

I'm sure when she is 16, I am going to be the lamest person she ever met, but it is important now to lay the foundation of a strong relationship, because teenagers turn into adults and they come around if the foundation is there.

So, I don't even know what the hell I'm talking about.  I guess I'm just saying...I'm growing up still even at 37 years old. Still learning and changing, but happy that I might be able to apply some of my "wisdom" to my second child. Wisdom as in, all kids are different, don't have a plan, let your kids teach you, be in their lives, mind your own business, and that happiness is a choice and a goal to work towards on a daily basis.

Sunday, November 2, 2014

Be Our Guest, Be our guest!

So the baby's name is June Lenore Smith. In case you were wondering. I mean, I am 99% sure that this is her name. We have been calling her June, so I can't imagine changing it unless I get hit over the head by some name fairy telling me that there is a better name out there, but  basically this is the one we agreed on.

My first choice was actually Margot June, or Margot Pearl but Chris HATES the name Margot (sorry if your name is Margot). Like, he seriously looked ill when I talked about it, so June was our second choice. I got dibs on the middle name because he picked Georgia's middle name, Grace.

I was thinking of June Catherine, June Louise, June Pearl, but then my god-mother actually suggested Lenore as a nod to Leona, my great grandmother. That was it! I love how it flows, and I think Georgia and June are cute sister names. Done and done!

I hate when people act all smug and secretive about their baby names. Like, the reality is, no one really cares what the hell you name your kid except for the parents. I do not ever ask anyone what they are naming the baby, because people are usually so freaking weird about it. I'm just not interested in playing that game. We all have names, and your special snowflake is going to barf and shit all over you like the rest of the babies out there....even if you name it Pemberely Hatch Apple.

 Anyway, I just spent way too much time talking about names.  Glad it's over and done with!

So anyway, we were in Disney World last week. Our first time with Georgia, our first time as a family. Chris and I have gone to Universal Studios a few times, but we were  not married, no kids, so Mickey, Minnie, and princesses were in no way involved in our travels.

Georgia LOVES Mickey and Minnie. I loved Mickey and Minnie when I was little too, so...this seems normal to me, even though before I had kids I used to think Disney World was totally lame and "basic"  (BTY- I am obsessed with all things "basic" and "ironically basic". I think it is the most hilarious concept ever and I applaud whoever came up with it.) But anyway, you know my kid loves Disney, she loves princesses, who the hell am I to say she can't like what she likes because I don't think it's "cool". Like, yeah, I get all the eye rolling regarding all of the girls dresses up as Ana and Elsa, but that is what our kids wanted to dress up as. She has plenty of time in her life to have some kind of weird, ironic-yet-clever Halloween costume. I'm not pushing originality on a three year old, that is too much pressure and she'll just end up hating me and thinking I am weird.

"Mom, can I be Ana for Halloween"


That was  basically it. I'm not crafty or DIY, bought the dress at Disney Store, braided her hair and gave her some freckles. Good to go. was I talking about? OH. Disney. Right. So, before I go on you have to know I injured my pelvis/back right before we left. I mean, it was not an "out of left field" injury. My back has been bothering me ever since I had Georgia and I blamed it on the epidural. The extra weight has just made the pain a lot worse, and I think just lifting Georgia on the can, helping her in and out of bathtubs, sometimes carrying her around in the morning, just made it too much to handle and last Thursday at work I just stood up, and my knees buckled from the pain and I started crying.

I had a rather traumatic/sad experience in the neonatal ER which I am not ready to write about, but MY outcome was pelvic injury, crutches and the need for physical therapy. BLAH. So off to Disney we go!

Georgia was super excited for the plane ride....for everything basically. The first day we got there we did a few rides in the Magic Kingdom. When we got there I immediately started crying because I wished Jill and my grandparents were there.I was just feeling so nostalgic and hormonal, and I have always gone to Disney with Jill and my just busted out with some tears and Chris just did the slow walk away/side eye until I composed myself.

The days at the parks were tough for me. I had to sit down a lot and I had (braxton hicks) contractions almost every night around 7PM. We only went for 4 days which was seriously enough for me. There were some families that were staying for two weeks!! I have no idea how. The parks are $100  a day per person! Not not to mention breakfast, lunch, dinner, and you have to get souvenirs of course! We brought our own snacks to munch on through out the day-string cheese, clementines, waters, saved $$ there and our resort had a cafeteria so we ate breakfast and dinner there most nights.

We did do one lunch at the "Be Our Guest" restaurant, and it was so freaking stupid and lame I highly recommend NOT EVER GOING THERE. It was too crowded for what it was, which was a glorified expensive cafeteria. The Tusker House lunch at Animal Kingdom was yummy and Georgia loved meeting all of the characters, and Chris and  I really liked Epcot so there was something for everyone. I wished I was not so tired/injured for the trip, but of course when we planned it I did not know I was going to be pregnant, so I just tried to suck it up and have a good time. Even though I am fat, injured, and I can't drink.

"I'm having fun. I'm having fun. I'm having fun."

Have I mentioned that it is really hard to be married? I got depressed a few times during our trip because Chris and I bickered a lot over stupid things like, "who forgot the water bottles" Or if we were not arguing, our conversations consisted of, "These BLT waffle fries are really good." I made a huge effort to be friendly towards the end, and so did he. I know marriage is not always roses and chocolates, and at this point we are so caught up in being good parents, I am caught up in my pregnancy... I feel like we forget that WE are also important.  So note to self, need to work on that.

When we left Disney we went to Chris's parents house in Jacksonville FL. We got in about 9PM and I was feeling SOOO BAD. Like, horrible. My back felt like it was on fire,and I was having serious GI issues as in...major pregnant diarrhea. It was bad.  I would have a contraction and then BOOM. It was so horrible I also felt like I was going to puke all over myself, the contractions were on top of each other, I was sweating and crying, sitting on the can. Finally it was sort of over, and I could get off the toilet but I could only lay on the floor. I called to Chris that I thought I should go to a doctor, my poor mother in law was laying on the floor with me...good times. I'm getting an epidural when the baby comes. Who the hell am I kidding with unmedicated birth? I could barely stand 30 minutes of fake contractions.

We went to the doctor and basically they were like, you should not have gone to Disney World, you should not have gotten on an airplane, you should not do this, not do that...the placenta previa played a big part in why they were so annoyed with me, and the doctor put "bed-rest" on my discharge instructions, but I think she just maybe meant for the rest of the weekend.

After that episode, I have decided that it is pointless to try to be glamorous during pregnancy. I think I just don't care. I wake up every morning feeling like I got run over by a bus, the extra weight is killing me so much more than my first pregnancy and I am not much bigger. I mean, really I have only gained about 15lbs. So I am 115lbs. I don't understand why I feel so huge and horrible, That isn't even big! Blah. So anyway, no more heels. My mom bought me a pair of "sensible flats" and I guess I can wear my riding boots or UGGS, and that will be that!

Tomorrow I will call the physical therapist and see about starting sessions. There is definitely a back injury. I keep hoping it will go away. Sometimes it feels normal, but ultimately the pain always comes back and takes my breath away. I can't believe I have three more months of this shit left. It is a good thing baby June Lenore is so awesome. I would do it for 12 more months if I had to. I love her so much.She is a crazy baby who has a party in my belly 24-7 and I can't wait to kiss her!

Wednesday, October 8, 2014

Taking my own advice

So I went to my doc for my 20 week anatomy scan, and while everything looks good with my little girl, it was noted that my placenta is covering my cervix. For those not in the know, your baby has to travel through the cervix to come out. If your placenta is covering your cervix, there is no way for baby to exit. That is like the short, easy definition of what is called "placenta previa"

Right now I have placenta previa. The doctor said I have to go back when I am 32 weeks to re-check and if it has not moved, he will schedule me a c-section for 37 weeks.

I almost died on the table.

A c-section? EXCUSE ME?

I seriously got all huffy and was like, "UM sorry, I don't DO c-sections" and basically acted like a total bitch. A) Because I had no idea what the reasoning for the c-section was for. I figured it was just a doctor telling me I had to have a c-section because it made life easier for him. and B) Because...I have no idea why. I mean, I have not ever wanted to have a c-section or anything, but I certainly have never judged other women for having them and I have ALWAYS said that it is not important HOW your baby is born, but that it is born healthy and safe.

And for full disclosure, I sort of roll my eyes at women who have 5 year olds and are not over their c-sections from 5 years ago. So until that moment, I had no idea that I had a problem with c-sections.

Before going forward, I need to note that this is not a judgmental piece on c-sections. Please keep that in mind.

It was seriously just my natural reaction when the doctor told me I might have to have one. I was super pissed. I was surprised at how pissed I was, and the doctor did not make things easier by being a fucking dickhead about it. I had to go home and research what the risks to placenta previa are and why a c-section was necessary, because he didn't answer any of my questions. He just kept saying,     "Don't worry, it's probably going to move."

Chris had to tell me to calm down, and it just like, got very heated for a few minutes.

So anyway, now I have read up on placenta previa, no thanks to Dr. Pencil Dick. I wanted to see if there was a way to assist the placenta in moving or what the alternatives were. I even looked at some really crunchy birthing websites where these people live for unmedicated, orgasmic, fawn assisted vaginal births in the woods, and they were like You should have a c-section with placenta previa.

With placenta previa, I have concluded that I have two options. The two options are:

  • I get a c-section if the placenta does not move. Hysterectomy and blood transfusion are also possible during the surgery if there are complications. 
  • I hemorrhage and die during labor and delivery. 

Okay. I will take a c-section, thank you very much.

I am not happy about it or anything, but what else am I supposed to do?  I just had such an incredible experience giving birth to Georgia maybe I am hoping to repeat it. But actually, it was so unexpected that I don't think it could be repeated. I went in there just praying it would be short and painless and I came out feeling like I had just conquered the world, and the crazy, amazing connection I felt to Georgia DURING childbirth was nothing I prepared myself for or expected. So, like I said, it probably would not happen that way again anyway because it was so unexpected and surprising.

But I am disappointed. And sad. And surprised that I feel this way.

So there is that.

The other thing I am upset about is having to do it at 37 weeks. I guess "they" do not want the baby to drop at all, and since 37 weeks is considered "full-term" that is the safest time to do it?  As I type this I am actually not 100% sure why I can't wait until at least 38.5 weeks when the lungs will be a little more developed so note to self-call OB and ask!

Right now, I am scared as shit to have a c-section. I know many who women who have had them, and loved them, or had them and ...did not die or anything.  I know if I have one I will survive too. It's just weird to be told you HAVE to get one. I guess I really can't describe how I feel. The whole thing the placenta previa, c-section, hemorrhage, early's just a lot for me to take in. I cried like 3 times at work yesterday and I never cry, and I couldn't figure out why I was crying but it was probably because of this.

Did anyone have c-sections due to placenta previa? Please share your stories! I need some support.

I also need to take my own advice that I always unsolicitedly give out: Your birth plan should be: Do not have a birth plan.

Tuesday, September 9, 2014

You asked me a question...

When I actually really sit down and think about the fact that my nephew has autism, I feel like my entire body has been sucker punched and I can't breath.

I've been on this journey with my sister since she shared her fears with me before Mason was one year old. I watched her struggle to figure out what was going on, i watched her learn the early intervention ropes, I witnessed (and felt ) the heartbreak of the diagnosis, even though I knew it was coming.

The twist during this time is that I have a child who is exactly 3 weeks younger than Mason, my daughter Georgia. And she hit every milestone EARLY. Like, super early. She started talking at 9 months old...and away she went. I think she is bright, some have said gifted, I've been told I should have her IQ tested. It was an emotional roller coaster to see her hit milestones and surpass her peers, while waiting for Mason catch up.

My sister never got mad. I never made a big deal about it. I think that's just how we worked it out so we could survive.

I talk to my sister like 5 times a day, I see Mason all the time. When the subject of autism comes up with coworkers or friends, I say, "My nephew has autism."

I "light it up blue" for autism awareness month, donate to causes that support autism research, I know just about as much as autism as a person not directly involved can know. I read every article, watch every documentary. I have an in depth understanding of baby/infant/toddler communication milestones and what should happen and why, and honestly I wish I did not know any of it.

I get annoyed at people who think "walking on toes" or "arm flapping" are criteria for an autism diagnosis. I want to punch people to say it is "over diagnosed".  I read autism message boards, read autism support websites, other blogs of autism moms..and still...I still sometimes get this horrible electric shock that goes through my body when the sentence "Mason has autism" actually means something in my brain. It's so unreal, I can't describe it.

So anyway, now I am pregnant. Maybe this is dumb, but it never occurred to me to think about how Mason being on the spectrum has changed how I view pregnancy and having another child. I just, like never thought about it because...I don't know.

"Well you are thinking about it because you are writing about it," you may be saying to yourself.

Yes! But I did not think about it on my own. I've been asked some really surprising questions since I became pregnant. Questions asked by nice, well meaning people, that I am definitely filing under "Weird Things People Ask You When You Are A Twin."

For example, when Jill got engaged, I can't tell you the amount of people who asked if I was jealous that she was getting married. FOR REAL. The first time I was asked, I was ....just...floored. And hurt and pissed. And also shocked because the person who  asked was someone who was a good friend of mine, and I just thought it said a lot more about her then it did about me...but anyway. YES PEOPLE ASKED ME THAT. 

Meanwhile, when I received the good news about her engagement via phone from my sister, I started screaming with joy in the middle of the street, jumping up and down, and crying with happiness. I like couldn't even move on with my life for 3 days because I was just so consumed with happiness and excitement. I immediately started researching what important duties maids of honor were supposed to do, wedding get it. Not jealous. 

Like, why are people jealous of other people who get married anyway? The only good reason I can come up with to be jealous of a bride is if you totally thought her fiance was going to propose to you but then you have way bigger issues to deal with..jealousy aside.

There are lots of other examples and maybe I will do a blog on it, but back to my pregnancy and my sister. People KEEP asking me if my sister is upset that I am pregnant. Like, more than once or twice or three times.

"How does Jill  feel about your pregnancy?"

Huh? What the...????

That was my response the first time I was asked. Because the tone was not upbeat and bright, it was pretty morbid. I did not associate Mason having autism to the question at all because, like why would I? I couldn't figure out "what" they were actually asking by asking that question.

I still don't know what the correlation is ....but I can tell inquiring minds that she is fucking excited and I don't have to double check with her to know that answer to be true.

We are not these dumb assholes who spend time being jealous of each other or happy for each others downfalls...we are 100% supportive of each other, while also sometimes getting in fights and getting sick of each other, telling each other to shut up, hanging up on each other, and maybe occasionally once in a year we get into a knock em down drag em out fight a la 1994...but you know, that is what happens when you unconditionally love someone.

You know if you tell your twin to shut the fuck up you dumb crack whore bitch, she  will know that you do not really mean it, and after hanging up on you will call back 5 minutes later and say something like, "Are Selena Gomez and Demi Lavato the same person? "Why do I mix them up?" What do they even sing? Are they the same person?" and the fight is forgotten. That is what being a twin is like. It's like being in a relationship with yourself. So no jealousy. Not upset if the other person is happy. No way, not nobody, not no how!

The other question I have been asked a lot is if I am scared my child is going to have autism, and since people are asking, here is my answer right now.

If I do have a child with special needs, who is delayed, or has any disability I will know logistically how to handle it. I will know who to contact, what our rights are, what the rights of the child are, I will know how the school system works, and who, what, where, why, and how to contact when the time comes. I know what milestones to look for, what to talk to my pediatrician about, and I know that the earlier I get my child help, the more beneficial it is going to be later in life. So one thing to come out of this is that I will probably be hyper aware of things like pointing, receptive language, and pretend play...I was not with Georgia because I did not know that I should be...and honestly I am actually thankful that my sister has taught me all of this stuff because if it did happen, I will have the advantage of knowledge that my sister and many other first time moms of special needs children do not have.

And that is all I think about it right now. I am not scared exactly, nothing has happened, autism is huge in my life right now so I am not a person who thinks "this happens to other people"... but at the same time, at this point it is like me worrying about my older daughter Georgia running away as a teenager or something. I am just thankful that if autism does happen, I have the resources to get help for my baby asap. The emotional aspect is just not there right now because it can't be, and that is that.

I don't even know where I am going with this. Some people asked the question, it is interesting I guess but kind of weird, so I thought I would write about it. 

I love Mason, I love my sister, I love my baby, and we are all going to go through some hardships together just like any other family and all you can do support each other and work hard to be positive and happy  for yourself and your loved ones. 

Friday, August 22, 2014

Twist and Shout

I hate gaining weight. Even though I totally get that I am pregnant, and that I am supposed to gain weight. I seriously understand that this is part of the process, however, I hate it so much.

Okay. Moving on.

I am trying to decide if i want to have an unmedicated birth or not.

Or wait. Let me rephrase. I WANT an unmedicated birth, I am just trying to decide if I will be able to go through with it. I already know I can handle the ring of fire (which happens during crowning), because, well, I did with Georgia. (I had a med free transition and birth)

Some women say the ring of fire the worst part of giving birth. Now I'm not saying it was a picnic or fact I believe  described it as "feeling like you are being skinned alive while set on fire" so that is not really too fun. But I know I will live. Maybe.

I was not med free during my 15.5 hours of labor, and that is the part I am worried about. Will I be able to have contractions for 15 hours? I totally think I am incapable of doing that. That is a LONG ASS TIME. I am hoping that it will be quick since it is my second child.

I actually can't believe I have to fucking do this again. WHO MADE THIS UP?  Who decided that person comes out of your vagina!!!? FUCK YOU, whoever you are. It sounds like a horror movie, except it isn't. It's normal, everyday, hohummmdrummm oh yeah I just had a baby, no biggie. I swear to god if babies came out of men there would be like some national holiday every time a man gave birth and paternity leave would be like 5 years long because they would spend the first 4.5 years taking care of their sore/disfigured wangs.

But alas, because women are giving birth we are expected to be up and at 'em within three days, back to work in 3 months ( if we work) hormones and postpartum ANYTHING be dammed.

We are supposed  love and accept the fact that kids ruin our bodies, we are supposed rock our stretch marks, and float wholeheartedly into motherhood on a puffy cloud of breastfeeding unicorns. It pisses me off.

Anyway, where was I? OH. Birth. Yes.

So,no epidural is what I'm going for this time. Having gone through labor and delivery once before, and being obsessed with birth stories in general, I know not to get my hopes up at all, and that you are not in control, and that basically, baby decides how he/she is going to enter the world. So I am ready for anything. However, if things are running smoothly, this is my preferred method of childbirth.

If you have had unmedicated birth, please offer me words of wisdom. And "take the drugs" is not helpful. 


In February, I will be 37 years old with two daughters. I would be less shocked if I won a Grammy. I sit here, and I think about it, and I feel like I've been hit in the face with a frying pan. Me? A mom with two kids! Two daughters?  How is this happening to me?

I never in a million years dreamed of children. Honestly. When I was growing up, singing was my life and all I thought about was what musical path I would go down when I was older. When I was 10 I practiced my best Judy Garland, and Shani Wallis n my backyard every day after school until I had perfected a belt suitable for a 25 year old woman, when I was 16 I wanted to be a Broadway star in Les Miserables, when I was 20 I wanted to find my Lindsey Buckingham and break up with him and be in a real rock band and write songs about love and heartbreak, when I was 25 I took a more realistic approach and thought about careers where could use my voice if fame and stardom did not pan out. I heard melodies and harmonies in every sound that came my way, I constantly made up ( and still do) songs in my head, and poems, and rhymes, and metaphors and put them to music when I am cooking, in the shower, cleaning, walking... I never imagined a wedding dress, I imagined a dress for when I won my Tony or Grammy.

All of a sudden,  I'm about 26 years old, and I get my stupid vocal cord injury. I did everything wrong in the year leading up to my eventual diagnosis. The main thing being I kind of ignored it for too long, I went to the wrong doctors (plural), and most like damaged something that was totally fixable, and all of a sudden  I'm 27 years old with no dream. It really sucks to lose your dream. Dreams are the keys that get us through our days. I've written about this a million times...Nightmare. It's a nightmare to lose your voice when it is connected to your entire soul...

So now I have a daughter. And I am going to have two daughters. And they are the greatest dream I never had come true. Really.

I've had people ask me if now that I have children has that filled the musical void, and the honest answer is no. I still miss it, I still cry sometimes, and I feel sad and regretful at least once a day...but that is better than 27/7 which is how it was.

I have been asked, "so would you change having children if you could have your voice back?"


Missing my voice does not mean I do not want my daughter. It means I miss voice. One has nothing to do with the other, and I think it's weird first of all that I've had this conversation more than once, and second of all I think it's weird that people think children are a replacement for voids in life. My daughter is not a replacement for anything. My new baby is not a replacement for anything. They don't complete me, (I'm still working that out myself) and frankly it is not their job to complete me. That is a really huge expectation to put on a baby!

So...this blog totally went a different route that I expected. I wasn't even planning to write about singing, but its been on my mind lately. Mostly because my voice has gotten a little stronger so I've been practicing a bit more than usual which is good but also frustrating.


I will go back to being funny tomorrow. For right now I will just sit here blown away by the fact that I'm a mom, a lady with two kids, pushing 40, deciding whether or not I want an unmedicated birth. Seriously, this conversation I am having with myself is shocking. Although if I give birth on Superbowl Sunday I will get the epidural so I can watch. But otherwise the epi is up in the air.

Wednesday, August 13, 2014

See ya...wouldn't want to be ya!

Oh the first trimester! The worst 12 weeks of life ever invented. A foggy haze of fatigue, vomit, starvation, bloating, and exploding hormones.

During my first pregnancy, I knew nothing about trimesters, or symptoms during trimesters, or what the hell a trimester was. I found it all to be very shocking. 

I even wrote myself a note at the end, "DO NOT EVER DO THIS AGAIN"

Of course, we forget how horrible it is. If we did not, none of us would have siblings. I totally thought I was ready and prepared this time around and that i would become a beautiful version  Mother Earth Incarnate in heels. 

But alas, it sucked more than I remembered and thus renewed my hatred of pregnancy and all things related. Mother Earth incarnate I am not. 

For those of you who are not pregnant, I will break it down. Basically there are three symptoms. Starvation, exhaustion, and nausea. It's basically like a three month hangover. 

So yes. You are starving. More starving than you have ever been in your life. Imagine the hungriest you have ever been and then multiply it by like eighty five million billion, and add the confusing overwhelming urge to barf when you think about food even though you are starving.  Frantic 3am fridge attacks, stuffing anything in your face you can get your hands on. Yogurt, pretzels,cold pizza, chips, pickles... You are stuffing it all down your throat....spoons flying, cans breaking, bags ripped open, OMG a cupcake...YES!!!!   Apples are being violently smashed on the ground because who the hell wants an apple  in this kindof national   crisis...tears and serious dramatic crying because no matter how much you eat it doesn't go away!!  It sucks to think about food 24/7. Eating becomes a horrible chore, the baby is just sucking up all of your nutrients and energy which brings me to the next symptom. 

And the fatigue...the sheer exhaustion. Remember that Sunday night ( 20 years ago?) you stayed up until 7AM because you decided at 2AM that ecstasy sounded like a great idea, since all the bars had closed and OMG there was NOTHING TO DO AT 2AM even though you had to go to work on Monday. Remember? Or maybe you don't remember. But you DO remember how exhausted you were. That is exactly how tired you are... 24/7 no less!

Kick in some good old fashioned 21st birthday party vomiting at any and all hours of the day, and  there is my description of the first trimester in all of its glory.

So, pregnancy ROUND 1 with Georgia. I was totally stunned at how horrible everything was. I had no idea it could be so bad. I knew pregnant people threw up, but basically...that is all I knew. I was literally knocked the fuck out AND I didn't even have it that bad compared to other stories I heard from other moms. I did throw up in the beginning, but once I stopped taking those stupid horse pills my vomiting stopped. I was exhausted and starving, but I talked to ladies who threw up morning, noon, and night...they couldn't' go to work. They were throwing up in the basement of their works so no one would know because they did not want to announce their pregnancies yet. I think that is crazy, yet also admirable because with both pregnancies I told at least some people basically before the pee stick was dry, and if I was barfing in a basement I would NEVER be able to keep that shit to myself. But anyway...going through the first trimester the first time was rough,  some had it rougher...but for me this time was a million times worse because there is now a three year old in the mix!

There is NO TIME to be sick. Literally. None. You need to throw up? Do it while you are running after your kid holding part of a potty seat. Yes. I was walking around with the seat part of G's potty seat in case I needed to yack. You want to take a nap? You will have better luck asking your boss to take a nap on his desk, because when you have a three year old you have to be on all the freaking time.

You can not call out pregnant when you have another small child. You get home from work, you play, get dinner ready, eat...or in my case watch other people eat and decide whether eating is going to be worth it in 3 hours when your stomach sounds like the bog of eternal stench. At least mine did. Like, one night I was literally laying there and my stomach sounded like 1000000 dead farts were dying in my body and I am just sweating and crying and praying to please throw up and  to please not throw up at the same time and maybe it would be best if I just pooped but I've been constipated and painfully bloated for a MONTH so that probably is not going to happen.

Um, where was I? Oh yes! DINNER!

So like, then there's all that stress of whether or not you should eat and get sick, or not eat and starve. Usually I would just cry.  Time to clean up!!! Then it's playtime, vacuum dog hair, give kid bath, story, it's 8:30. A sort of respectable bed time so I go to bed. Get sick all night. Sometimes I don't make it all the way to the bathroom. Sometimes don't get sick at all but OMG that horrible nauseous seasick feeling that won't go away. One time I was throwing up, I did not make it to the bathroom and I'm getting sick all over the floor and Georgia was standing right next to me saying "MOM IS THAT YOU THROWING UP OR THE BABY? IS THE BABY THROWING UP THE MUFFINS I GAVE YOU? MOM? MOM? MOM?


And also can we talk about clothes? My shit doesn't fit. I have gained 5 pounds which doesn't seem like a lot  but on me it is. It is all in my stomach, hips and butt are already expanding, and my pants are not buttoning and the crotch is like all up there. It feels very uncomfortable, my boobs are bigger so my shirts look pornographic (even though my boobs are not really that big, my shirts are just really small) Same for mostly everything I own.  I look like I'm about to pop out of everything, but I'm still too small for maternity clothes. I went to LOFT to try to buy a 2 pairs of pants in a bigger size to get me through the summer and they fit in the waist but everywhere else was too big and I looked like an ass clown. So I have about 6 dresses that have been in rotation for the past 1.5 months which is torture for me and today I broke down and wore leggings and a long shirt. I just need a belt and I will look exactly like Peg Bundy! Yippee! Toss in my gray roots because I have not colored my hair in 2 months and you have one big hott mess of a woman!

Anyway, this is my last week of the first trimester. I am feeling so much better. I am getting my hair did tomorrow, I'm eating like a normal person, I have not solved the clothing issue so if anyone has suggestions that is great...but ....besides that I am doing great. It is OVER. My last first trimester for the rest of my life! (I'm getting my tubes tied after this).

Goodbye first trimester you old bitch! Don't let the door hit you on the way out!

Friday, August 8, 2014

Bye By Miss American Pie

I'm always reading internet blogs or posts where people (most of them are people who don't have children) complain about parents. They complain if a parent posts pictures of their kid of facebook, they complain if you bring your kid to a restaurant, they complain if your stroller is too big, they complain that you think your kids is God's gift to the world...basically they HATE parents and think that all parents should punch their children in the faces if they do so much as get a runny nose.

I get it. I was not too fond of kids nor did I understand anything about being a parent before I became a parent. If I was at a restaurant and a kid was sitting at the table next to me, I moved. I hated when I read things like "you never know true love until you have a child". And I wanted to execute anyone who put up an ultrasound picture on facebook because for some unknown reason, it personally offended me.

So fast forward a few years. There is an ultrasound picture somewhere on my facebook page, I have never known love like the love I have for Georgia, and I sigh with relief when there is another person with a kid at a restaurant I am patronizing.

The thing about these internet people who hate kids, is that they are always talking about how "parents these days" do not discipline their kids. There is a post that went viral a few days ago about some asshole who bought all the pies at Burger King because (according to him) a kid was screaming that he "wanted a fucking pie" and the mom was on the phone. I am inclined to believe that this story is greatly exaggerated BUT if it is true my first thought was also that this child was special needs.

"But why wasn't the mom doing anything, even if he was special needs? " One would ask, rightly so.

Here is my answer: She is fucking exhausted. It is physically impossible to correct, discipline, or  yell at your child 24-7. She was at a goddamn Burger King, not Le Bec Fin or whatever it is now. People are paying 99 cents for a hamburger, and if you need to ignore your kid for a few minutes, in my opinion Burger King is a great place to do it.

I came to this conclusion on Tuesday evening. Before Tuesday, I was in the camp that parents should at least TRY to make some effort to discipline if their child is misbehaving. If they act up in the grocery store-just walk out. If they are screaming and making a mess, put them in their room.I have not had to deal with too much of this, as Georgia is a pretty good kid and temper tantrums are few and far between. Getting ready for school in the morning was always a challenge, but if I don't want to get up and get ready to go to work, I can't expect my kid to want to do the same, so I did have  sympathy for her.

Anyway, back to the whole "parenting issue". Now that Georgia is almost 3.5 years old, our expectation of her at dinner is to sit at the table with us and eat three bites of everything on her plate. If she doesn't like what we are having, I make something she likes, but still she needs to eat it. She has always sat at the table with us at least for a few minutes, but when she was 2 I didn't push the issue too much, because she did not really understand the point of sitting at the table and I thought it was stupid to try to correct a child on a concept that is above their head.

So anyway now she is three, dinner is a non stressful event for us (because I never made it one), usually she is good, however she has gotten a little flip during the past few weeks, testing us on all kinds of shit, and Tuesday evening she did not want to eat dinner.

She was laying on the floor, rolling around, kissing the dog, yelling at us "NO DINNER! YOU ARE A MEAN MOM!" And basically being a total jerk.

Here is where I was mentally. I am 11 weeks pregnant. I am nauseous 24-7. I am exhausted 24-7. And I am starving 24-7. I work full time, and when I say that I have not taken a nap the entire first trimester I am not kidding. No naps. No extra rest (well actually on our "vacation" I slept all day but I was so sick the entire time it did not feel like a luxurious nap. It felt like hell) In order to maintain my house and my life I have to push push push, which is fine and when you are pregnant with your second child I think this is what everyone does. But damn. I would love a nap.

Anyway. Dinner. I was fucking tired. Chris was tired. We were both staring at each other hoping the other one would get up a do something. I just wanted to ignore her, and eat my steak because I was starving, and concentrate on  not throwing up because I also felt like that was going to happen any second. Georgia is acting like a crazy bat out of hell, yelling at us and basically telling us that  we sucked.

99% of my entire being had given up, and I really had to rally in order to say the following words because I knew that after I said them, all hell was going to break loose.  I had tears welling up from just thinking about how much I did not feel like dealing with this. Not because I felt bad for yelling at her, but because I just wanted to be left the fuck alone in my first trimester misery.

"You are going in time out."

Screaming ensues, I pick her up and walk upstairs and we go to her room and I put her on her bed. 'Stay in her until you are ready to eat" She starts screaming and crying, I close the door and sit at the steps to make sure she isn't going to jump out a window or something. "THIS IS NOOOOT TIME OUT! THIS IS MY PINK ROOOOM! I DON"T WANT TIME OUT IN MY PINK ROOOOM." So then I feel horrible, because I remembered reading that their rooms should not be where you put them in time out, but like now it was too late to change my mind. God, I suck.

She opens the door and I say sternly, "Get. Back. In. Your. Room." and I sound exactly like my mom and it's all so totally shocking. Georgia goes in her room, but not after first sobbing that I am a mean mommy. Sob. Sob. Sob. now there are hiccups. I feel like a dick. All I want to do is eat my steak in quiet.

After about 15 minutes the dramatic sobbing dies down, and  I hear her playing with her toys, and I'm all like "I am so over this." Chris and I go downstairs (he was there too) and sit at the table and start/finish our dinner. Blah.

I hear G come out of her room and walk downstairs. She comes into the kitchen and sits down. "If I have three bites, can I have a popsicle?" I tell her yes, and she starts to eat. I am like ready to jump out of a window at this point. We still have to clean up, walk the dog, give her a bath,  play some dumb game with her, read three books  and lay with her until she falls asleep, and I feel like there is no end in sight.(this is our nightly routine. It is exactly the same every night. It is like Groundhog's day and is as boring as I am making it sound)

"Mama, I'm sorry I did not eat my dinner." She is like totally seriously looking at me to make sure I still love her or something and I am immediately overcome with guilt because feeling sorry sucks and I don't want her to feel like I am mad at her. Even though, like I guess her punishment worked, but I had such mixed emotions about the whole thing, even though I know what we did was right. HOWEVER. It was so mentally draining. Those without children will not understand how much it sucks to discipline your children, but it really does. It's like fighting with your spouse or significant other 24/7. Does anyone like doing that? No. Do you sometimes just ignore them or tune them out to avoid an argument? Yes. And there is how I came to my conclusion that sometimes parents are just too fucking tired to argue with their kids, and I am totally okay with that because 99% of the time they do deal with them and possibly you are just seeing them the one time they don't have the strength to fight.

So maybe if you do see a kid acting up in a restaurant, grocery store, movie theater, wherever, think of the parents as a person who has the same mental capacity for conflict as you do. Maybe smile at them, or buy them a coffee ( I mean no one would ever really do this, but it sounds like a nice gesture), or think to yourself, "It's okay. I am tired too from all my partying last night! Here is a flower." Or don't do anything at all except think about how awesome it is that you get to go out to dinner with your friends tonight, but please for the love of god stop thinking parents are your mortal enemy. We are sometimes just tired people who are trying to live. You can walk away, move your table, not look..I did all of these things before I had Georgia and they were not hard or invasive! It is very easy to avoid children if you do not like them! Ahem...(One way to avoid them is to not go to Burger King. I'm just sayin.)

Being "parent tired" is EXACTLY the same as "hangover tired" except you did nothing fun the night before. And sometimes we just don't have the strength to do it all, all the time, and would like nothing more than to give our kid a shot of whiskey and let them fall asleep, or leave them in the car screaming  for a second while we run in the store,or pop them in the mouth if they are mouthing off...But then some person would call the cops and we would be arrested, so really we just can't win. American society's expectations of parents AND children is pretty stupid and ridiculous and fuck that guy who bought all the pies.

Friday, August 1, 2014

Let it Go

We are in full blown princess mode at my house...or about to be. Georgia knows the names of all of the Disney Princesses, which is weird because we have only watched Frozen, Cinderella, Brave, Rapunzel, The Little okay we have seen more movies than I thought. I was going to write that I'm not sitting around telling her their names, but I guess I kind of am. We have movie night most Fridays, and she loves Disney so that is what we watch. We have also watched Annie, Sound of Music, Oliver, Wizard of Oz but I still think she is a tad too young for them. Maybe she will like them in this coming year, but for right now it is all Disney all the time.

This is one of those things that I reflect upon and think, wow I was stupid. Throughout my pregnancy and when Georgia was a baby  I said over and over again that we would not be watching Disney anything, and that she was never going to dress like a Disney character or wear a t-shirt with a Disney character on it. I thought it was tacky and lame..and of course I did. I was 33 years old when I got pregnant. I had not seen a Disney move in 20 years and ALL kids everywhere in every public place I went to were annoying to me, and they just all always seemed to be in Disney shit and that made them even more annoying to me so to me Disney=Annoying.

So fast forward to all of the pledges I made when I was pregnant. No Disney, no character shirts, no ugly baby furniture in my house, she will never have food on her face or unbrushed get the idea. I was a CLUELESS first time mom who thought I could do what no mom before her had done!!

It is possible to keep your kids away from Disney I think, but it would just take so much EFFORT. Her friends at school love Frozen, her friends in our neighborhood love Frozen, and goddammit when I put on that fucking move I can actually clean my bathroom and vacuum my stairs because she is so into it.

And who am I to deny a three year old a Disney movie? Like seriously? Why did I want her to pop out as a mature 33 year old baby with the same tastes as me? That is so stupid. I LOVED Disney when I was little (my grandfather somehow got copies of all the movies in the early 80's so I had all of them!) It was a huge, fun, part of my life. I loved the songs, I loved the stories. Why did I feel the need to deny my child of something that was such a positive experience in my life? 

When our kids are babies and maybe until they are 2 years old they are our own walking billboards. We can give them the haircuts we want, put them in the cool outfits we want, decorate their rooms as un-gender specific as we want, but then...they start to develop personalities. And they start to develop a fondness for ugly plastic shit from Target over that beautiful, whimsical, expensive wooden Pottery Barn doll that is not a monstrosity d├ęcor wise. And yes, I am aware that I can so NO I AM NOT BUYING YOU PLASTIC SHIT FROM TARGET.  But my reason would be so lame. My reason would be because *I* don' t like it.

She has opinions on what she does and does not like. I think it's good for her, and don't get me wrong we expose her to other stuff besides Disney. She is super into the solar system and we have  science books that she loves to read over and over again, but these things are not hot button issues like the Disney phase is.  And to me, it is just not worth it to deny her of something that at this point is harmless is harming me to hear those songs over and over but I did that to my parents with movies so whatever, I look at it as payback. Except my favorite songs involved Judy Garland who EVERYONE loves, not Idina Menzel who I can't stand. Her voice makes my hair stand up in a bad way and I want to jump out windows ever time she starts singing. Blah.

It's just a phase. A harmless one. One that she is having a blast with, and I just can't keep up this facade that my kid is too cool for school. When she is 13 and wants to buy a pair of slut shorts I will responsibly give her my adult opinion that I don't want her walking around with her butt hanging out. I feel that is a different situation than her right now wanting Magic Clip Ana from Target. I actually don't know how I am going to deal with the teen clothing situation, as I was the poster child for like everything you DO NOT want your teen daughter to wear...but for now..I am not worrying about it. I will enjoy the hilarity of my daughter waving and bowing to her imaginary subjects, of thinking her father is her prince charming, and of calling the dog King Buckley. (PS no one calls me anything so I just say I'm the maid)

And of course, I will enjoy her love of Disney Movies and the fact that she loves to watch them with me. It is going to be in no time at all that she does not want me anywhere near her while she is doing her thang, so I will appreciate our time together now and let her be a child who likes princesses, solar systems, dogs, Paris, and trucks.

Thursday, July 31, 2014


Anyone who talks to me on a regular basis knows that I am a HUGE fan of Rent the Runway

You you can rent designer dresses  for any event at super reasonable prices. It's totally fun and I highly recommend you rent for your next big night out!! They will send you your dress in two sizes of your choosing ( but only pay the cost of one rental), and I think you can keep the dress for 4 days before you have to return. The company provides you with all of the UPS stuff for return for no hassle AND if you get your dress and decide you do not like it you can call the company they will overnight you something else.

My first rental was a bust. The dress was not a style that looks good on me, and the dress ended up being too big BUT I did not try it on until the day of the event so I screwed myself out of getting something else overnighted to me. The dress itself was beautiful and I do not fault the company. I have had three very successful rentals following. are my rentals so far. The first one:

Herve Leger Wishful Thinking Dress
Rental -$80 Retail $1590

I paired with Canary Statement Earrings Kate Spade NY
Rental $15 Retail $98

The model (duh)

Kate Spade Earrings

 Next Rental!

Botanical Beauty Dress D&G by Dolce and Gabbana
Rental $35 Retail $750
Opening Night Statement Earrings Kate Spade NY

Me. Just kidding

Me and Sanna!

Kate Spade Earrings

 And my most recent rental...I have to note that this dress is not my usual style but with my little baby bump I needed something to get creative. It does not look like a baby bump yet, just like a pooch so I needed to cover it. They have a "bump friendly" section which does not carry official maternity clothes, but recommendations on dresses that work well with bumps of all sizes.

Haute Hippy Electric Rose Dress 
Rental $85 Retail $495
Kendra Scott Turq Deily Earrings

not me
My husband and my bump
Kendra Scott Earrings

I highly recommend Rent the Runway to everyone. Like I said it's really fun to look at all of the dresses...they also have pictures submitted by real people so you can see what they actually look like on your body type. Oh joy of waiting with baited breath for you package to arrive, while praying to the high heavens that the dress you ordered but did not try on fits like a glove! 


Tuesday, July 29, 2014

Tin Roof....Rusted!!

So. I am pregnant. 10 weeks to be exact. At this very moment you are reading this I am growing a person AND i am growing an organ.

Yep, you heard me right! In addition to growing a person, I also get to grow a brand new shiny full blown placenta to enhance the fun that is pregnancy!  Woot-Woot! Don't be jealous now!

This pregnancy was planned, which is quite a different experience from  the one I had with Georgia where when I found out, I was basically  like a crying 16 year old who just peed on a stick ..except I was 33 and married. This time, I was pretty happy when I got the big fat positive!

I began to suspect something was up when I put on Jill's black maxi dress and looked like I had just eaten 5 tubs of donuts. I did not immediately suspect pregnancy though, because I had tested 2 weeks earlier and gotten NEGATIVE, so I thought I was just eating too much or something. I started doing the 30 day ab workout that was all over Facebook, but it wasn't working.  I just felt like I was getting more and more bloated. My clothes all looked horrible, I was really tired, and I started to worry that something was wrong. I always think I have a brain tumor. I google the symptom "looks bad in maxi dress" and luckily, brain tumor did NOT show up. But it looked like doing ab crunches was going in the right direction!

So anyway, every night I'm doing these ab crunches, Chris and Georgia are helping me, counting, holding my feet, nothing is working. I'm getting pissed that I'm getting fat, I keep thinking maybe pregnant, but I just took the test and it was negative, SO WHAT IS IT? This went on all weekend. I went to my mom's house and fell asleep during our fathers day party, I did not want to drink wine or eat steak, and I was totally grumpy. Clue #1!!

The next morning I got up for work feeling like total shit, and all I could think about was food. I got a bacon egg and cheese from wawa and washed it down with a bag of Cheetos and some kind of crazy koolata coffee that is really annoying sounding to order. At lunch I was dying for sushi so I ordered like three spicy tuna rolls and then was freaking out because I wanted ice cream. I walked to Ben and Jerry's and got some kind of double scoop thing in freaking waffle cone, and for the first time that day, I felt relaxed and happy.

Ahhhhh. I'm just sitting at my desk all fat and happy from the waffle cone and all of a sudden I'm like, "I'm totally pregnant." I just knew! So I left work AGAIN and went to CVS to get a pregnancy test!

Buying a pregnancy test is still weird, even when you are 37 and totally allowed to have a baby. I'm never sure if I should walk around the store with my pregnancy test package proudly on display like DAMN I WANT THIS BABY PEOPLE, or if I should hide it because inside I'm sometimes still a really an insecure 16 year old.  In reality, no one has probably even noticed that I am holding a pregnancy test, but in my mind EVERYONE is looking at my pregnancy test and trying to figure out if I want to be pregnant or not. I put on my best, "Yes I want to be pregnant face" and carry on... but then...I wonder if anyone thinks it is my first baby! "Oh poor dear. She does not know what she is in for," I imagine them thinking.

BUT I DO KNOW! I AM NOW A BEEN THERE DONE THAT SECOND TIME MOM. I AM AN EXPERT!! So now I have to figure out how to look like not only do I want this baby, I also need to look like it is totally no big deal because this is my second pregnancy, so like yeah whatever bitches. I'm just gonna pee on this stick and then go eat a ham sandwich. YAWN.

I go up to the self check out aisle and try to look very confident, yet bored.  Yep...just scanning this boring old pregnancy test.  hehehe. no big deal here. *whistles.

GREAT! I THINK IT WORKED! All of the people who were not looking at me totally know that I am a lady in her almost late thirties taking a pregnancy test for her possible second child who was planned. I RULE!

Okay, now my next issue is where do I take the damn thing? It's like 1PM so I am not waiting until I get home. I MUST KNOW! I don't want to use my bathroom at work, because then I would have to throw the test in the trash and someone would somehow see it...maybe. Probably not, but it was just all so DRAMATIC and I had to find somewhere fast!

Humm...this looks like a good building. I go into some building on campus and find the bathroom. yippee!! My heart is totally pounding and I feel dizzy and like I am about to cry and I take my pregnancy test the way millions of other women have taken before me! Or whatever. I don't really know how to make peeing on a stick sound more interesting.

I wait, wait, wait, wait. OMG. OMG. OMG.


A new baby. I can't believe it! I can't believe how emotional I am getting in this random bathroom!I happily take a picture of the positive test, and then throw the evidence away and like RUN out of the bathroom and call Chris. "I'm pregnant!"

So romantic isn't it?

Monday, June 9, 2014

Oh Shit!

Well, this morning I pulled poop out of my adorable daughter's butt.

It's just like one of those things I've never ever thought about doing...which actually now that I think about it I also had to pull poop out of my dog's butt once.

How does someone have to do that twice in their life?

Wednesday, May 14, 2014

 As I like to say, thanks to facebook, pinterest, twitter, whatever else is out there, the new parents of today are charged with hyper focusing on making our kids lives magical. Crafts, DIY, themed birthday parties, only clothes from etsy, start them in classes at 2 years old...the list of "good mom requirements in 2014"  goes on and on and on. It is exhausting, and also really fucking stupid that I feel like a bad mom because I did not put my daughter in her St Patrick's Day pajamas ( since when is it a real kids holiday, anyway?)

The straw that broke the camel's back (me being the camel)was Georgia's 3rd birthday party which was going to consist of 20 kids, arrival of disney characters, tatoos, face catch my drift?

It was going to be really awesome to put on facebook through instagrammed pictures! Look at what a great mom I am!! My kid has characters at her party! I was getting so caught up in everything that I just forgot who I was. And who I am not is a competitive asshole parent, so I gave myself a quick kick in the face and cancelled everything.

Georgia had a small party at my parent's house.

I'm sure she thought it was magical. Or really, who knows what she thought? I have no memories of until I was around 4 or 5 years old, so I don't even imagine that she will remember the party, magic or no magic.

But that isn't the point now, is it? I wasn't doing the party for my daughter, I was doing it for myself. Remind me to never throw a birthday party for Georgia for myself again. If she asks me for a big whoop-dee-doo, sure I will help her with it. But  this birthday party was not coming from a good place in my soul. It was competitive, it was forced, and I was teaching my child that events had to be grand in order for them to be great.

Magic comes in all shapes and sizes, and places, and colors and people. It can't be created through pajamas, or cakes, or decorations. In order for something to be truly magical, it needs to come from an organic space that created itself.

If my kid gets used to a big "to-do" for every holiday, for every day of life, the real magic of the world will never astound  her because she will be to busy waiting for someone ( parent, friend, boyfriend) to create it. It will become expected. It will become boring. She will become boring. I don't want her to be a person who waits for magic to be made by other people. I want her to experience it organically and to find it herself.

On Mother's Day, my sister Jill and Mason slept over. My husband made us breakfast and bought us flowers and a card. It was nice.

We decided to take a walk. We put the kids in the strollers, packed some snacks, and headed to the Art Museum.

Side note: the Komen Race for the Cure took place that day. The elitist dickfaces in my neighborhood are complaining this week because the helicopters woke them up too early on Mother's Day. Can you even imagine???? Anyway...

We discovered the "sculpture garden wall fountain" which I had never seen before. Two fountains covering the walls of a concrete lookout to the river. No one was there. It was super quiet and lovely and we decided to sit on the blanket and have our snacks. Georgia asked if she could take off her shoes and put her feet in the water along the wall. Mason wanted to do the same.

Soon Georgia's dress was soaked so I just took her dress off. Jill took Mason's shorts and shirt off and all of a sudden it was like they were FREEEEEE.

They ran back and forth between the two fountain walls over and over again in their undies, screaming their faces off with happiness. Sometimes they held hands, sometimes they grabbed each other and hugged, sometimes they ran alone. Back and forth, back and forth, back and forth. For over a half hour!

Everyone who walked by laughed and yelled, "That looks like so much fun!" It was fun to watch. Georgia and Mason in action together! It was weird too, I felt like I was floating on a cloud of happiness.  Two kids overjoyed with life thanks to nothing but sunshine and water.

This is what being a kid is about. This is what we loved about being kids. They might forget the memories but they won't forget the feelings of experiencing,  living, creating,and laughing.

So much better than waiting for me to do something awesome. Sitting on the blanket and taking a step back was the most awesome thing I did that day!  I am done with themed pajamas.

So I started pinning stuff for Georgia's next birthday party,  Georgia did not have a real birthday party this year because I was too busy.  It occurred to me that I never posted pics of her first or second birthday parties. I really don't post any pics on here because I'm sure the three people who read this blog are my facebook friends, but anyway, in order to get myself motivated for this partay These pictures remind me of how bad I sucked this year. I will show you some pictures from the last ones.

For her second birthday, she kept telling me she wanted a "green" party. That could mean a lot of things, but as she was only turning 2, I decided she meant the color green. The only request besides green was that we get a Minnie Mouse cake, so it was pretty easy. It was right after St. Patrick's day so all green decor was cheap!

For her first birthday, we decided to to " Georgia in ONEderland theme and have a mad hatter tea party. It was totally adorable.  look.

I have no idea how to lay out these pictures whatever. You get the point. I had a first and second birthday party for my kid.

 I had planned to go all out, I had a contract sent to me for Mickey and Minnie to come to the party, tattoos, games, dancing, face painting...the works! And then all of a sudden I had this moment of OH MY GOD WHO ARE YOU???!  It's a fucking three year old birthday party. Get a GRIP. So-we just had spaghetti and cake at my mom's house. Actually, I wasn't even there. I was in a wedding. Which by the way was 100% fine with me as I told my friend. You only get married once. My child will have lots and lots of birthdays.

So anyway, Minnie Mouse plates, Minnie cake, my mom got some cute decorations. BOOM. Done. Happy Birthday kiddo!

Also, can we talk about cleaning? I am so sick of doing CHORES. But like, when you are an adult they aren't chores, right? They are just part of life? Laundry HAS to get done...the word "chore" to me sounds optional. But optional or not, the other night I opened the dishwasher to put my plate in it, saw that everything was CLEAN and promptly lost my shit because I had to empty the dishwasher. " I"M SO SICK OF DOING SHIT!!!" I screamed at no one. Chris was looking at he usually does...and I am just like freaking out and refusing to empty the dishwasher.

I just want to be FINISHED, but there is never a finish line in sight. There is always absolutely something I could be doing. Cleaning the bathroom, vacuuming the stairs, cleaning the microwave, cleaning out the fridge, mop the floor, wipe the woodwork, dust the fans, organize my basement, organize the closets, look under my bed and see what is living there...the options are ENDLESS I tell you!

All this talk about cleaning makes me want to share the fact I am really struggling with the decision to have another child. I don't want there to be any more work. I also don't ever want to give birth again, but that is not what is keeping me from making the decision. I loved having a baby of course, but those first few months brought me to my knees and I really am not interested in all that again. Not to mention the financial responsibility of having two children is enormous and it weighs heavily on me.

I'm not one of these ladies that is happy wearing old dirty clothes and smelling like baby puke.  I still like nice things. I  can't run out and buy them at the drop of a hat in one big ol' shopping spree like I used to, but treating myself is still manageable.

I am sharing this with you because I want you to know that  I KNOW I am selfish, and the reason I do not want another child is because I do not want to change my standard of living, I do not want to do extra laundry, I do not want to breastfeed or have third degree vaginal lacerations, or have my hair fall out, I don't want to get fat, I don't want to not sleep, and I want to have the financial freedom to give Georgia whatever she wants. within reason. I'm talking about soccer lessons and stuff. Not taking her shopping at Tiffany's.  AND I want to enjoy life too.

Who am I convincing here? You? Myself? I think I'm trying to convince myself. There is just one minor problem with my argument to myself.

When I picture Georgia as a big sister, I cry.  I cry because I know she will be amazing. I cry because I know that without my sister I would probably be dead. And then I want to punch myself in the face for thinking that  less laundry, and a non violated vagina, and Tory Burch are more important than  giving her the experience of a sibling.

I know what your thoughts are. "A sibling is the greatest gift"... "I have two children and it is wonderful"
 "No material object replaces the relationship of siblings"..."Your vagina will sort of look normal after your second baby"

I get it. I get it. I do. So that is not what I'm looking for.

I'm looking for someone to tell me that they were scared too. Because I don't get that from anyone. I just see people having second and third  kids and looking so happy and I am starting to feel like a freak. I am TERRIFIED of having another child.

 It  is not because Georgia is a bad kid. At all. She is a sweet, kind, good mannered, talented, smart, beautiful girl. She was an "easy" baby as far as being an easy baby goes, and she has been a pretty easy toddler and pre-schooler. A few "time outs" in her life...3 of which she put herself in, so my terror does not come from the fact that she personally is hard to deal with.

It's just all the other crap that goes with it. What if  by 7:30am I have to put TWO people in snow gear, boots, car seats hats, gloves. "MOM I HAVE TO PEEEEE!!!" ( this really does happen), in the biggest polar vortex blizzard the earth has ever seen? THIS is the shit that freaks me out. The double duty. this winter getting out the door every morning totally blew, and it will blow even more if I have two kids.

Does this make sense?

I hope you enjoyed my post about birthday parties.