The weatherman called for a storm last night. He wasn’t lying and as I look out the window, all I can see is white powdery snow. It’s everywhere and in fact, there’s still some falling from the skies above. It looks like a picture right out of a book. But looks can be deceiving. Underneath the pretty veneer lies an ugly truth. It’s freaking cold out there.
I have a confession to make. I’m currently being stuffed with more herbs and supplements and natural remedies than is…natural, to be honest. The most surprising part may be that I’m doing it all willingly.
I was very recently pregnant and now that I’m not, I have some pearls of wisdom to share. Think of it as a publlic service announcement that you don't want to miss. I’d have shared this sooner—like, say, when I was pregnant—but was reluctant to voice it all for fear of sounding hormonal. You know, being labeled as the easily dismissed and far-too-emotional pregnant lady getting herself riled up again, that sort of thing. Now that I no longer have to worry about that, I’m going to just lay it all out there so here goes.
I’ve been a bit MIA recently and I have good reason—I just recently had a happy and healthy baby girl! Hooray! Pat on the back for mummy! The pat is for delivering her into this world, duh. We had chosen not to find out the sex of the baby and were overjoyed to tell our older daughter that she now has a baby sister. I have a sister myself so I know how special that bond is and I’m glad my daughters will be able to share that as well.
Every woman has a sanctuary. The place she escapes to when life and husband and kids get to be too much. Which, lets get real, can be more than a couple times on some rather charming days. Mine isn’t the bedroom as you would imagine. Nope, I never get any peace and quiet in there. My husband and daughter can just open the door, walk right in, and destroy my moment of calm. That’s hardly a sanctuary – that’s more of a landmine situation which consists of me sitting on edge, just waiting for the door to open because inevitably, it will.
I have three shifted ribs (subluxated if you want the technical term). Not one, not two but THREE. That’s basically three times the pain. I’ve never had just one shifted rib before but I bet it would be three times less painful than right now. That’s my logical rationale at its best right there.
Growing up, we didn’t have a lot of money but we had something even more valuable. We had a lot of love and that’s what I want to pass on to my daughter this Christmas season. She’s now at the age where she is aware of the holidays and instead of focusing on the many gifts she will undoubtedly receive, I want her to remember all the special moments that we shared as a family. Moments filled with love and magic.
It’s the most wonderful time of the year! Look around you, everything and everyone is festive and jolly and joyous. Or I should say, almosteveryone. I’m in my last trimester and I’m sorta wavering on that joyous part. Right now, I’m just feeling uncomfortable and more like a turtle that gets stuck on its back every so often. Not so bad that it’s not manageable but not so fun either.
I desperately need a new diaper bag. And not just any diaper bag, but the most practical diaper bag ever made. I know this sounds trivial and ridiculous, but it has become a dire necessity and I’m sure other mommies would agree with me. I refuse to have a newborn without this very crucial item in my possession. It just won’t be done.
I’m raising a princess. Not by choice but my toddler has made it very clear that a princess is exactly what she is. This became abundantly clear when we bought her Halloween costume this year. My husband and I each picked out a costume for her. My husband’s was a big, puffy spider complete with eight legs and a web. It was, without a doubt, adorable. Ah, but I knew better. I now know what my daughter likes. I picked out a cute bumble bee costume with a big poufy skirt and a pretty headband. Guess which one she chose to keep and which one she refused to even try on?
I’m just going to put it out there. I cannot wait for this year to be over. I’m so done with 2012 and to be honest, I was done about 8 months ago. This year has totally kicked my ass and I need to get it behind me.
I think I’m suffering from a complicated bout of prenatal anxiety. If that’s not an official medical term, it totally should be. I, for one, can attest to the fact that it’s real and that it’s utterly horrible. So what is the root of all this emotional turmoil I find myself in? Surprisingly, it’s not the blissfully unaware baby that’s (hopefully) enjoying his/her time in my way-too-small uterus. What’s really stressing me out is the aforementioned baby’s older sister. My precious first child.
A number of things fall to pieces when you’re pregnant. They don’t mention it in the pregnancy books but it’s going to happen to all of us sooner or later. In fact, it’s already started happening to me. I was bothered and horrified with my first pregnancy but this time around, I knew better. I was mentally prepared and I’m about to give you the lowdown. You can and should prepare yourself as well. You won’t like to read what I’m about to say but trust me, it’s for your own good.
I just ended my three-week spa getaway. When I say spa getaway, I really mean visit to my parents' house. Seriously though, nothing is better than going back home to get fawned over and pampered like a child. It’s better than any resort I’ve ever been to—after all, these people that spawned me know my likes and dislikes like no one else.
Let me explain why I love going back home to visit so much more than any visit to the spa:
I’m feeling some trepidation about writing what I’m about to write but I’m sure I’m not the only one who has to deal with this and maybe we need to talk about it.
To make a long story short, my mother really wants me to have a boy.
This month meant another four-hour flight for my toddler. In her two years of life, she has been on more than two dozen flights and two long-ass road trips. That’s a lot of travelling with a toddler and if you’re wondering, I still get anxious before each and every trip. Every single time.
Fortunately though, I’ve gotten quite good at travelling with my daughter and have the ultimate toddler travel checklist I swear by. It has ensured hassle-free trips, even when I’m pregnant and bitchy. Kidding, I’m never bitchy of course.
If you read my last post about miscarriage, you’ll know that it was much more personal than I typically feel comfortable sharing. I’m just a naturally private person. For whatever reason, I find it really hard to share my very personal experiences with anyone but those I’m closest to. But after I wrote the post, the most fascinating thing happened. I realized that I had a lot more wonderful people in my life than I was even remotely aware of.
What do you do when you get pregnant after a miscarriage? Well, if you’re anything like I am, you freak out and worry about it. A lot. I got pregnant just two months after my miscarriage and I feel like I’m constantly worrying about ensuing health scares now. I didn’t have this constant fear with my first pregnancy and it’s sort of sucking the fun right out of the experience. I was so thrilled and jubilant the first time around but now I'm too scared to feel the same excitement.
I’m so sleep deprived today that I’m in an extra special mood, even for someone pregnant. The kind that makes me want to kick at the curb and take part in my own tantrum meltdown. Obviously I can do no such thing as I am an adult and a mother and we handle our bad moods differently. We take to our blogs, Twitter, or Facebook to lament about how incompetent the rest of the world is and how everything bad is the fault of the simple minded folk we must associate with. So that’s just what I’m going to do.
