Families and Parenting

140 posts

Pregnancy: What no one tells you ahead of time

I’ve had several people email me and say things like “I just heard the word episiotomy for the first time” or “I didn’t know that your face blew up into craters when you were pregnant!”. The emails invariably end with the phrase “Nobody told me that.”

Indeed. That is part of the gestation initiation: There’s a whole bunch of stuff they don’t tell you before you get pregnant. Then, when you’re pregnant, slowly, the mysteries of gestation and birth are revealed to you. It’s highly unsettling and, I think, a little bit unfair. There should be a bit more disclosure for the potential recruits. I doubt knowledge will change much. Most people will still have kids anyway, thinking “I’ll be the exception to the rule”. Knowledge doesn’t stop lots of people from having second or third children. Look at Michelle Duggar. There can’t be much she doesn’t know at this point and it’s no deterrent for her.

In the interests of full disclosure, here are a few things about pregnancy no one ever tells you about. Some might happen to you, others won’t. However, at least two of them will.

  • Pregnancy zits: They can put adolescence to shame. You can get them on your face, chest, back, nose, wherever. By this point in your life, you’ve probably forgotten how much zits can hurt. You’ll remember.
  • Food aversions: You hear a lot about morning sickness, which is something you usually get over after 12 weeks. Food aversions can last the whole pregnancy. I was personally so freaked out by chickens during one pregnancy that I had to stay away from the rotisserie chicken section of the grocery store. I couldn’t even think about the shape of a chicken without wanting to vomit. I know a woman who had the same problem with lettuce. She was convinced she could smell lettuce if it was in the same room. Common food aversions include eggs, meat, milk and salad.
  • Hair loss: This might happen after your delivery. Or it can happen when you’re first pregnant. Or both. If it happens afterward, buy the Rogaine for Men. The kind for women isn’t as good (of course).
  • The advice and the touching: They say it takes a village to raise a child and I will vouch for the fact that the village certainly seems to think so. The moment you show signs of gestating, the village will be up in your grill nonstop and the customary boundaries of personal space will cease to apply to you. People love two things in life: Dispensing advice and touching pregnant women. They’ll come up to you with all kinds of advice, some good, some weird and then their hands will creep towards your belly. They’ll get more aggressive as you grow. By the time you are in the 3rd trimester, you can’t fight people off with a blowtorch. Sometimes a woman, with her hand on my belly, would relate a gem of wisdom from her years of parenting and what I really want to do was not to ask for more advice but to ask “Have we met?”
  • Bad jokes: Around the third trimester, people start making hysterical jokes. Look how huge you are! Do you beep when you walk backwards? You don’t walk, you waddle! You’ve been pregnant since God was a boy! Do you think you are ever going to have that baby? Are you eating lots of pickles and ice cream? You still haven’t had that baby? Oh boy, are you in for some sleepless nights!

Yes, the people around you turn into standup comedians and they all recycle the same jokes. I firmly believe this is at the root of all pregnant women’s grouchiness. The swelling, the exhaustion – these are all things a person can cope with. However 9,878 jokes about the same damn thing will make a woman want to slap everyone she sees. Fortunately, people will write any and all bitchy comments you make off to pregnancy crazies so feel free to tell people to go to hell. For once, you can get away with it.

There are many, many more untold stories of pregnancy, birth, and child rearing. I’ve barely scraped the surface. Unfortunately, I got so annoyed thinking about all the irritating jokes that I’m going to need a glass of wine to calm myself down and think clearly again.

Pregnancy – The Home Stretch

Do you remember waiting for Christmas or your birthday as a child? The wait seemed eternal, especially the last couple of days. You felt like you were going to spontaneously combust because of excitement. When you’re pregnant and near the end of your term, this is often how you feel. You’ve had enough of being pregnant and you really want to meet your baby. Plus, you feel like a whale and you would really like to see your feet again.

At the very end of pregnancy, you stop fearing labor. Instead, you begin to worry that you will always be pregnant. Forever. This is your main fear and it replaces any concerns you had about delivery. You want the baby out and you want it out now. I think this is nature’s way of making moms brave enough for labor.

When you’re in the home stretch of pregnancy and complain, there are evil, sadistic people who say things like “Relax, get some sleep and enjoy the end of your pregnancy.” They counsel that you won’t get sleep when the baby arrives so you should stock up on sleep. This is ludicrous advice because sleeping in the last 2 weeks of pregnancy impossible for the following reasons:

  • You can’t roll over
  • Your skin feels like it’s being stretched over a drying rack
  • You have pee every 7.8 seconds
  • You have occasional contractions that keep getting your damn hopes up
  • You are so swollen that you somewhat resemble the Pillsbury Dough Boy

I don’t mean to sound negative about pregnancy. I really wanted to be pregnant both times. I was thrilled to be having the children. However, my pregnancies became difficult and uncomfortable due to some health problems that were exacerbated by pregnancy. Also, I am a stunningly impatient person. Waiting for 9 months was almost unbearable for me. I would have preferred to place an order and receive a baby within 48 hours. But, nature does not operate that way.

So, when I was within a week of my due date, the sole focus in my life was labor. I wanted it to happen so bad. I would have welcomed labor pains like a child welcomes candy. I began to look for ways to induce labor. The most popular approach, from what I read, is sex. I’m not even going to comment on the feasibility of sex at the last phases of pregnancy. There are logistical issues which are complicated by the fact that by the end of pregnancy, many women have completely lost their minds. Therefore, most men are terrified of their wives and would rather chew glass then initiate sex.

I decided to investigate a different approach – spicy food. I convinced my husband to take me to one of our favorite Mexican restaurants. I ordered spicy black beans and nachos with salsa that I believe was called “El Culo Diablo.” I picked the hottest peppers out of the salsa and ate them raw with no chips.

“This,” said my husband somberly, “is what desperation looks like.”

Indeed, it was desperation. The Mexican food run did not pay off. I did not go into labor after the meal, but my husband reported that he was able to make the paint in the bathroom peel. I tried several other strategies, including Red Raspberry Leaf tea (tastes much worse than you’d think), long walks (I logged miles), acupuncture and laying on the couch weeping because I was so ready.

The baby, like all babies, came when he felt like it and not one minute sooner. This is the way babies are. They do what they feel like doing and you have little to no control over their behavior. It’s a theme that starts with the birth and continues pretty much for the entire time you are a parent. I suppose pregnancy at least teaches you some patience which is something you really need as a parent.

Photos here and here.

Crazy Parents

85 comments

Our son, who is 3, is playing soccer. He’s in a 2.5 to 4 year old league. You can just imagine the skill level. My purpose in enrolling him was two-fold. First of all, he looks adorable in the uniform. That might have been my primary reason. Secondly, I need to find activities to wear him out. He’s got a lot of energy and if I don’t do something to wear him out, he’s up half the night. Since I am somewhat handicapped, it can be hard for me to do that on my own.

He’s played two games, and when I say “Played”, I mean he’s sat on my or my husband’s lap during two games. He doesn’t seem to be too interested in playing, which is a little annoying, but isn’t that big of a deal. He’s 3. Even if he does better than anyone else in the league, he is only likely to hit the ball in one out of 50 kicks. Clearly, skill isn’t the focus. I actually think, as far as the kids are concerned, that juice boxes are the focus. The parents are mainly there for their own amusement.

At least most of the parents. Tonight I had my first glimpse of the insane sports parents in the earliest available incarnation. They spent most of the game screaming at their daughter, Lucy, who is not even on our team, but showed up to substitute. Poor Lucy (who is THREE) didn’t even know the coach or the other players since it wasn’t her regular team. Her father led much of the shouting. He sounded exactly like Ray Barone if Ray Barone was about to have a stroke from tension.
Here are a few samples:
• “Dammit Lucy, I showed up to see you PLAY!!”
• “Lucy, you’re not focused!”
• “Lucy, you are running around aimlessly!”
• “Dammit Sheila (or whatever his wife’s name is), she’s not even trying!”

I wanted to ask “Trying to what, exactly?” Steal the ball from the kid who is picking his nose? Score a goal, since the net is wide open because the other team’s defense is picking flowers? Wind sprint across the field and slide tackle the kid who has taken his shoes off? What the heck was Lucy’s objective?

I found out a little later that this is Lucy’s second (SECOND!) season of soccer. That explains why Lucy was so far ahead of her teammates. She knew where the field was and seemed to understand that the game began in the center of the field. This gave her a huge advantage over the kids who ran over to their mommies every time the whistle sounded. (My son never got off my lap in the first place and thus was never startled by the whistle).

I don’t know Lucy’s parents at all, but I’m sure they will be easy to track down over the years. They’ll be screaming at the coach at her first grade tee ball games and her father will publicly threaten to disown her when she doesn’t catch a fly ball at her seventh grade softball game. Lucy (she’s 3) is in for a loooong 15 years of parental encouragement. I just hope she doesn’t end up graduating first in her rehab class.
Godspeed, Lucy.

Photo: http://www.flickr.com/photos/archer10/3728919227/

The question all parents dread…

85 comments

We all asked it when we were children, or we really, really wanted to: How are babies made?

How does it work? He sticks what where?!?!

As a child I was fascinated by it all, and to my mother’s dismay, asked endless questions about peepee’s and weewee’s and whozits and whatzits galore (I also liked The Little Mermaid.)

My mother was conservative, but also a nurse and therefore believed it was better to answer the questions in a straightforward manner, lest I seek other more embarrassing sources for the questions that kept popping into my little head. Rather than describing things for my more visual-oriented mind, mom sat me down with a book instead.  “Where Did I Come From” By Peter Mayle along with it’s companion, “What’s Happening To Me” became frequent sources of information for me growing up- I would read the descriptions of sex, ( One page reading, “By this time, the man wants to get as close to the woman as he can, because he’s feeling very loving to her. And to get really close the best thing he can do is lie on top of her and put his penis inside her, into her vagina.” left little to the imagination.) and look at the diagrams showing the stages of puberty in awe, feeling very enlightened for a 7 year old. Being let in on the big secret of the adult world opened the floodgates of my inquisitive mind. Did the man always lay on top? Did it always feel like “scratching an itch, but a lot nicer”? What happened after? How often did it happen? Did my parents do that? I never had “THE TALK” because the topic of sex and puberty was always open for discussion (In privacy, of course) with my mother.

This behavior on her part came from growing up in the 60’s with a cold-as-stone mother. Think Betty Draper, but instead of being the pampered wife of a New York Ad Executive, being the poor wife of an alcoholic farmer in the middle of nowhere. When my mom asked my Baba (Grandmother in Ukrainian) how she would know if she had gotten her period, Baba replied curtly, “You just will.” And the discussion was never to be brought up again. My mother never wanted her children to grow up distressed with unanswered questions and feeling shameful for having them in the first place,  like she was made to feel.

Now I ask, how did you learn about the birds and the bees? And if you have children of your own, how have you dealt with their questions?

Dear Barbie Q: Frosting and Nooky

57 comments

Dear Barbie Q:
1) How do you get a boy to sleep with you on the first date?
2) How do you make frosting from scratch?
Regards,
Tuna Melt
Dear Tuna Melt,
I could make so, so many disgusting tuna melt sex jokes here, but instead I will contribute the one piece of frosting knowledge that I have. To access it, we must return to a simpler time, a time when the first Mildred of my family’s Mildred trilogy reigned. That would be my tiny blue-haired grandmother who voraciously read Harlequin romances and always wore white gloves when she left the house. She managed to convince nearly everyone around her that she was sickly and on the verge of death although she was healthy as a horse until she was 98 and a half.

She made a frosting from cocoa powder and cool whip and it was delicious. It is the only thing I ever saw her cook.
Here’s the recipe:
¼ cup Hershey’s Cocoa powder
3 Tbs. confectioners’ sugar
1 tub o’Cool Whip
1/2 tsp. vanilla extract

Adjust amount of cocoa to your personal preference. Frost anything. Mildred the First always used it on yellow cake.

If you’re looking for nooky, I suggest inviting your suitor to your house for dessert after the movie, dinner or whatever. Frost yourself. Decorate with strawberries and/or blueberries for an added intriguing touch.

Deliciously yours,
Barbie Q

Barbie Q’s Advice Column

19 comments

This is a new feature in which I will take relationship questions and dispense advice based on concrete principles such as what my cat thinks or how my 2 year old daughter responds.
Dear Barbie Q:
I own a store that has a bunch of long-time, loyal shoppers. The thing is, they kind of get on my nerves. They are always making snarky remarks and inside jokes. They always show up and buy lots of stuff, but I’d like to attract new shoppers and I think the clique that hangs out at my store is driving away potential shoppers. What should I do?
Sincerely,
Mr. Nique

Dear Mr. Nique
Here’s my advice – get rid of the whiny, self-centered shoppers as soon as possible. I recommend a few strategies:
• Install a door a revolving door and pretend it’s broken when the clique-y shoppers try to come in
• Invite potential shoppers who may or may not be interested in buying your product. This will overcrowd the store and annoy the clique-y shoppers and force them to shop elsewhere
• If the clique-y shopper express special love for any product, stop carrying it immediately
• Make them go to the back of the line if they make smartassed comments

If this doesn’t work, I recommend sending in an attack hamster. Let me know if you need a reference. I know a good one.

Rompies with Ruby!

4 comments

Hi Everybody!

Well, let’s see.  It’s been a while since we talked.  How were your New Years Eve celebrations?  Codename:Stabby had a migraine and went to bed early, but I hung out with my nephews and niece and Stabby’s Sister.  We stayed up late and I ate lots of junk food, so it was great.  And I destroyed my Christmas present chew toy, so that was super fun.  Also, it wasn’t raining.

I had two great sunny rompies also.  I met a new friend, name of Mr. Crow.  He was hanging out on the upper football field and I ran over to say hi.  He said hi back and flew around and I chased him for a while.  We had fun.  Then he flew to the baseball field and sat up high on the fence and I barked at him and he said bye and flew home.

Yesterday it rained again and it’s raining today too.  I rompied in the rain and mud on the football field.  There are some BIG puddles up there, which are great to slip and slide in.  Oh! There was a truck parked on the other side of the fence, so I stood watch over it and while I was there a van pulled up! It was so exciting! People got out and bustled around and I supervised them.  They said hi to me and smiled.  Then they got in their cars and drove away.

Here I am now.  How great is my bed?  I love flannel so much.  Anyway, I get the feeling that there might not be a rompie today.  It’s pouring so hard that when I went out to pee I turned around and came right back in, so…

Sleepies with Sophia

1 comment

I understand that there are some animals that actually like to be outside in the elements.  Cats are so much smarter than that.  I am Sophia, a connoisseur of comfort.

Today I had Maggie wake up Mummy by purring in her face while I relaxed on the big chair.  Maggie thinks she’s the boss of this house, but she isn’t.  I allow her to do the dirty work because it makes her feel useful.  After gushy noms and crunchies were passed out under my strict supervision (seriously, I love my Mummy, but she is forgetful about the crunchies sometimes and I have to remind her) I settled down on the cozy blankets on the sofa.  I slept there for a while and then got up for some leftover gushies. Then I settled into the big side chair for a long afternoon nap.  Mummy keeps a lot of cozy blankets around to snuggle in.  She’s a useful creature, this human.  In some regards.

Why on Earth would any animal in their right mind want to leave the couch?

Rompies with Ruby

3 comments

Hi haters!!  Well, it seems that Codename:Stabby got some hate mail because I called you Crasstalkers “dicks”. You Crasstalkers have some thin skin for such a tough name and that’s all I have to say on that issue.

Anyway, we didn’t go rompies today because it is raining. AGAIN.  But, we did go rompies yesterday and it was AWESOME!!  We went to our regular place but we took a different trail before the one that goes up the mountain, which is the one we usually take.  So this new trail is flat and goes along the river.  It.  Was.  Great!   I got off the leash for four miles!  Codename:Stabby did her intervals and we had a great time.  Also, it was sunny and warm.  No pics though because we left the phone at home.  Then we got groceries and went to the post office and went home.  I had tuna juice on my food for dinner and then I slept.  It was a great day.

It’s supposed to rain again tomorrow, which I am not at all happy about.  I think I’ll probably get a rompie on the upper football field at the high school again.  That seems to be our rainy day routine.