Breastfeeding

Breastfeeding sucks. (Haha! I made a funny!)

No really, it's not at all what I thought it would be. I did my reading. I was picturing some instinctual mother/baby bonding experience and how cool it would be to feed my kid naturally. Finally putting those breasts to their useful purpose.

It did not work out this way. There's a few things the books don't tell you.

1. PAIN
Holy balls from hell does it hurt. I returned the book to the library, so I don't have an exact quote, but The Everything Breastfeeding Book says that if you feel more than a gentle tugging, the latch must be wrong.

Incorrect. I spent 4 days at the hospital. My latch was evaluated by 5 nurses, 2 doctors, and 1 lactation consultant. The latch is fine. The baby was getting milk.

The pain was excruciating. I continue to take 800mg Motrin to get through it. My nipples are always sore and cracked and throbbing, even with generous helpings of lanolin cream. The initial latch always has me grit my teeth and kick the nearest piece of furniture.

2. COMPLICATIONS
The books do make mention of clogs, mastitis, thrush, etc. But a paragraph at best. The first week home I had a fever of 101F and was popping antibiotics three times a day. My right boob hurt so bad I could barely lift my arm over my head. On top of that, it felt like I had the flu. Oh, and I was recovering from major abdominal surgery.

I've had three golf ball sized clogs in the 6 weeks that my baby has been alive. Plus numerous pea sized ones. I've had two milk blisters. Yet the only helpful information in treating these, I've found online or through my doctor. The breastfeeding reference books continue to paint a blissful picture of the experience.

3. TIME
This can go either way. A lot of women (me) complain about the time it takes to breastfeed. My baby will nurse anywhere from 25-40 minutes on each breast. Once he set a record of 57 minutes. Then you burp him between each breast, so tack on another 10 minutes. Let's assume each feeding takes 1 hour of nursing, plus 10 minutes burping, plus 5 minutes beforehand changing diapers and getting your nursing area prepped.....you are nursing a newborn for 8-9 hours a day. At 6 weeks, this may be 5-6 hours a day.

The flip side of the argument is that pumping takes too long. You have to set up the machine, pump for 25 minutes, clean all the parts, feed the baby, burp the baby, rock the baby, etc. Some women believe it to be much more efficient just to lift the baby to the boob and there you go. It depends on how you look at it. And you can also feed on the go, rather than stashing bottles in refrigerated bags.

I choose the former argument, obviously. Sorry, but think about this. 5 hours of nursing. 5 hours of vigorous sucking at your nipple. How the fuck does this not hurt everyone?? Maybe I'm super sensitive?

4. ISOLATION
Pumping takes 25 minutes. That's it. You can do both breasts at the same time, hand the bottle off to someone else, and clean the parts while grandmom feeds the baby. Nursing, however, is about 30 minutes on each breast. If you're like me, you don't feel totally comfortable nursing in front of people. That means you go into a room with a door shut for 5-7 hours a day. You get pretty isolated and lonely, even with a smartphone and Facebook nearby.

Eventually the need for human interaction forces you out the room and you nurse in front of family, hoping you don't accidentally flash them. Still, you shouldn't be made to feel this desperate. And I'm an introvert. I can only imagine what it's like for more social people.

5. UNANSWERED QUESTIONS
I've read about how human milk is best for the baby. I have not been able to find why that milk needs to come from a boob and not a bottle. I can pump and still get the same nutrition into him.

I blame the Breast is Best campaign, and all the published books out there for not accurately painting a picture of what breastfeeding is. Many moms, like me, make the decision to do it because it's the best food for the baby and will create a bonding experience between us. Despite the large amount of research I did beforehand, I was still surprised by the loneliness, the time, and the pain. People tend to gloss over the facts in an effort to get you to breastfeed. Many times the book or article will gloss over it, like "if breastfeeding does not work out for you, congratulate yourself for doing it as long as you did. Your baby will thank you."

What exactly does it mean to "not work out"? Why did women stop? How do you get past the guilt? How come the only place I can get answers to these questions are from blogs and forums?

6. GUILT
Despite the fact I hated breastfeeding and the near-constant pain, I didn't stop. I felt like I couldn't; it was the best thing for the baby. It's like I was waiting for permission from someone to stop.

And that came. Finally. At my 6 week doctor's appointment, I told my doctor about all the issues. The clogs, the blisters, the chapped nipples....She said since these were still going on after 6 weeks, I was too high of a risk for repeated mastitis and eventual breast abscess. She recommended I switch from nursing to pumping.

I have to admit, I felt enormous relief. A guilt-free order from the doctor to cut back. She didn't send me back to a lactation consultant or recommend I keep trying because "eventually your nipples will toughen". She listened to me, heard the pain in my voice, and relieved me of the guilt. I think she knew I was asking for permission.

She also said something that resonated with me. Right now, my body associates breastfeeding with pain. That is not a bonding experience; it's the opposite. I shouldn't dread feeding my child.

Since then, I've only been nursing 2-3 times a day and pumping the rest. I am a lot happier and in less pain. I have more time to myself and more time to spend with other people. Plus, the hubby can now feed the baby too. It doesn't have to be me all the time. That's another pressure off of me. I get my bonding time with my baby by cuddling him after the bottle and having him rest on my stomach while laying on the couch. Same as my husband bonds.

So if you are reading this and having trouble breastfeeding, consider cutting back. I was happier once I did.

I'm back!

Alright, so it's been a while since I posted anything. I have been busy not sleeping and being a human mattress for a 9lb eat/poop/cry machine.

And besides, I don't have anything to talk about other than my son. The world doesn't need another mommy blog, that's for sure.

While there are a plethora of topics running through my mind (furloughs! Are you kidding?), I haven't left the house much in the last 6 weeks, and therefore don't feel qualified to discuss anything other than eat/poop/cry.

Yes, I need to be qualified to write on my own blog. I do see the irony.

Motherhood is hard. Definitely a lot harder when you don't have an outlet to let off some steam, or just to write about the experience. I'm convinced mothers experience depression because they are tethered to a crying infant without break for weeks. Sure, you can have a life. As long as it happens within the two hour feeding window and as long as you take the baby with you.

Yes, feeding takes 45 minutes to an hour. Yes, the two hour clock starts at the beginning of the feeding not at the end. And yes, it takes 20 minutes to get the diaper bag packed, kid bundled warm, and strapped to the car seat. It feels like you only have 5 minutes to feel normal, and I usually choose to shower instead of trying to leave the house.

Hence, postpartum depression. Which for me, comes and goes. When it comes, it usually sticks around for an hour or two. It depends on how much sleep I've had, how much contact with the outside world, if I have vomit or milk stains on my clothes, if the kid screamed for hours that day, and how helpful the hubby is in the evening.

90% of the time, I enjoy maternity leave. The other 10% has me raging against societal constructs that forces women to hide indoors because we haven't showered, have vomit on our clothes, and most likely have a boob hanging out of our shirts. And the whole "Breast is Best" campaign is a massive conspiracy to force women to stay home.

I have an app on my phone that helps me track nursing times. I use it to monitor how much my baby is getting fed. Anyway, let me give you some statistics. Yesterday I nursed for 290 minutes over 5 feedings. The day before, 315 minutes for 5 feedings. 347 minutes for 5 feedings. 307 minutes for 7 feedings. That's a huge improvement too. The baby is going longer between meals. I'm down from 8 hours of nursing to 5 hours.

(These times don't include burping or butt wiping. This is straight nipple sucking. Let something suck on your nipple for 5 hours a day and see if you stay positive.)

Giving the baby a bottle takes 20-30 minutes. Think of how much free time I'd have! But no, Breast is Best.

My kid is 6 weeks old. That is both an eternity and an eye blink. He is alive and gaining weight and only screams at me half the time he's awake. I give myself an A+.

Pregnancy Chronicles - He's here!

That's right! The baby is here. I'd say finally, but he came a few days early. I'm absolutely thrilled to meet my son, and I don't think I could love anything more. However, labor did not exactly go the way I wanted it to. You know that birth plan you have? Maybe even wrote it down for the doctors? Yeah, throw it away. It ain't gonna happen like that.

I guess it started 4:30 am on Friday. Maybe sometime before that, but I was too sleepy to think about contractions. I thought maybe it was terrible indigestion. So it wasn't until 4:30 that I had a big one, nasty enough that my husband woke to find his wife writhing in pain.

He got up and started packing a bag for the hospital. I told him he was nuts and that it was just false labor. All the signs for false labor were there. Inconsistent contractions, contractions that lessen when you change position or drink water, no blood, no mucus plug, etc. We started to keep track of the contraction time and duration because it's not like either of us were going back to sleep.

For the next couple of hours, that's what we did. I had contractions, he wrote it down, we did some laundry, packed the bag. The contractions remained inconsistent. Sometimes they were 20 minutes apart, sometimes 5. Sometimes they lasted for a few seconds, sometimes 30 seconds. You aren't supposed to go to the hospital until your contractions occur every 5 minutes for an hour. Everything pointed to false labor. I ended up convincing the hubby to go to work because I was confident the contractions would stop.

Two hours later, I asked him to come home. They had gotten bad. BAD I TELL YOU. Every 5 minutes, increasing intensity each time. I called the doctor, but the office is closed from 12-1:30. I called the emergency line but the unhelpful woman said to call the office. I told her the office was closed you dingbat and basically she provided NO help. That's okay because I had a few things around the house to finish up - which sounds crazy, but if you're going to the hospital for 2-3 days, you have to prepare a few things. We didn't end up leaving until 1:30 anyway, but at least I finally did get in touch with the doctor's office to let them know I was in labor.

I was dilated 4cm when we arrived at the hospital. It takes 10cm to give birth, 5cm to get an epidural. Within a few minutes, I was 5cm. Contractions were coming every 3 minutes and were insane. You want to know what it felt like? Have you ever had a leg cramp? Or a foot cramp? Where your muscle tenses and bulges and constricts for a few seconds and there ain't a damn thing you can do to help it? That, except for all over your abdomen and lower back.

Oh and here's a fun tidbit they didn't tell you in labor class: you can't get an epidural until you drain one complete IV bag of fluid. That fucker did not drip fast enough, I tell you. With the contractions 3 minutes apart, it was just a blur of pain. I'm not sure how women do this naturally. They kept asking me on a scale of 1 to 10, how bad was the pain. It was a 10, 10 I tell you! Stop asking stupid questions and get the epidural.

Hooray when it finally did come! I'm not sure I had a normal reaction to it. One, I could still move my legs pretty well. Even put weight on them. Two, I went a bit loopy. I don't remember much from this time except a few happy texts to family members and a feeling of sweet, blissful relief from the pain. Hubby and I started watching the machine I was hooked up to. We giggled as the contractions started coming 1 minute apart. Hehe, the peaks and valleys are so cute! Seriously, I was out of it.

My doctor arrived to break the bag of waters. Things went downhill from there, sorry to say. The baby's heartbeat decelerated. The doctor thinks he was leaning on the umbilical cord or grabbing it. The bag of waters that provided cushion between baby and cord was gone. They kept flipping me around in bed trying to find a position that would take the weight off the umbilical cord. We found one - on my side, with my leg up on a table. I've been in more comfortable positions. The thing is though, I had to lie there and not move an inch. I tried shifting my shoulder around once and the baby's heart rate dropped again.

I stayed there when I got pins and needles. I stayed there when it all went numb. I stayed there until I thought I would never regain feeling again. And I would've stayed there until my leg fell off. Unfortunately, labor was not going well. I had reached 7cm and plateaued.

An hour went by, still 7cm.

Another.

And another.

In total, I stayed at 7cm for 5 hours. Then my nightmare come true. The doctor said the baby's head was too swollen from the constant pushing against my cervix. And my cervix was swollen and didn't look like it was going to progress to 10cm. I had no choice but to get a Cesarean.

Now, I knew throughout the whole pregnancy that I did not want a Cesarean. I remember when we made our birth plan, I said to my husband, "Make sure they do everything possible before they slice me open." I don't like the idea of being cut into. I don't even like needles or IVs. All along, the ultrasounds and doctor appointments looked good. The baby was in position. No chance of a breech birth. Baby's weight was between 7 and 8lbs; doctor said I should be able to deliver that no problem. There was never any foreshadowing this might happen to me.

Which made this day the happiest and the most horrific of my life. I had an hour to prepare for surgery. One hour to come to terms with my fears, accept the fact they were going to cut into me, and mourn the loss of the labor I wanted. I'm not going to tell you the things I thought during that hour, but lets just say I was in a dark place.

See, there's a big difference between pushing life into the world and having it surgically removed. I was cheated out of a life experience that should've been mine. I WANTED to push, as crazy as that sounds. I wanted the physical challenge; I wanted to look at my son and know "I did that." The Cesarean took that all away from me. I had a few contractions, got an epidural, then got sliced up. You can't even call it labor. I certainly don't.

First they shave you. Then they inject more pain killers so you can't move at all. I could move my head around and my arms if I really tried. I remember being freezing cold (because the fluids and medications being injected into my veins were room temperature) and shaking uncontrollably. They put scrubs on the hubby and wheeled me into the operating room. All the doctors and nurses were really nice and calm, but I knew they didn't want to deal with my tears.

They set you on a table under really bright lights, arrange your arms spread eagle out to the side and expose everything breasts down. A curtain is placed in front of your face, which is a saving grace. Though at one point during the surgery, it become blood-splattered. I wondered if the curtain was for my piece of mind or just to minimize the cleanup.

The hubby was placed almost directly behind my head. He could watch the surgery even though they tried to shield him somewhat. It was awful. The doctor used a hot knife to cut my skin; I could smell my flesh burning. Hubby tried to distract me by pretending they hadn't started, but deep down in my drugged out state, I knew better. I knew what that smell was. I asked the nurses NOT to narrate for me or tell me a damn thing about the procedure. I just didn't want to know. It took every ounce of courage I had just to be in that room. But I was doing it, for my baby.

At some point, it occurred to me that this was a bigger test. Yes, I wanted the physical challenge of labor. I wanted to beat it and deliver my son into the world. I was always afraid of a Cesarean, so maybe this was my thing I had to face. I clung to that idea throughout the surgery and it helped. However, it's not true. I still feel cheated and still feel like a failure. A healthy pregnancy for 9 months and my son had to be delivered by scalpel. I didn't even get a chance to push.

Again, I think I had a weird reaction to the pain killers. The doctor said she was going to apply pressure on my diaphragm area to get the baby into a position where they could grab him. She said it was going to feel like "an elephant standing on your chest". I felt her moving around a little and wondered when she was going to get started. About a week later, the hubby told me the two doctors were yanking on my abdominal muscles as hard as they could to expose the baby. Turns out, all those hours of yoga did NOT help. Weak abs make surgery easier. Anyway, so I was waiting for this elephant to arrive when hubby pointed to our baby in the incubator next to us. I was too drugged out and weak to see him or touch him. They took Baby away, with the hubby, while they closed my incision and cleaned me up. It took about an hour until I saw him again. Yet another thing taken from me.

I finally did hold him and it was one of the happiest moments of my life. Then the pain killers from the surgery started to wear off. My incision felt like it had been lit on fire. The nurse wasn't exactly snappy with the pills; I had to call for her twice. The pain got so bad I couldn't enjoy my son in my arms. And he was so beautiful. With gooey crap in his hair, little upturned nose, an overbite, and a chin exactly like his daddy's. I just wanted to stare at him, but the pain kept returning me to the planet Earth. It shouldn't have been like that.

The first night was kinda terrible. It took the nurses a few hours to clean me up, manage the pain, and track my vitals to make sure I was okay. They sent hubby to sleep in another room while they took care of me. Eventually they wheeled me to his room and brought the baby to stay with us.We stayed there for 4 days until I was strong enough to go home. I'm still not allowed to go up or down stairs, or do normal things like cough and sneeze. But at least I'm home and I have my son.

He was born at 12:56am. 7 lbs, 7oz, 20 inches long. Perfect in every way.

Football Baby Blanket

I mentioned that my husband's Eagles jersey got messed up in the laundry? Well, it did. Has a bunch of holes in the backside.

Luckily it was a knockoff anyway and didn't cost very much money. Still, he'd only worn it a couple of times and wanted to recycle it into something else.

So voila. A baby blanket. I'll go through the steps on how I made this sucker. There's not detailed instructions, but if you wanted to recreate it, I think you can follow along.

Actually, I ended up making two blankets. One for my expected son and one for my cousin's brand new baby boy. Only because the jersey had numbers on the front and back. I also got the fleece 30% off and the minky fabric 50% off.

Materials to make 2 blankets:
2 yds fleece
1 yd minky
scrap white fabric
70-80 inches of grosgrain or satin ribbon
green, white, and brown thread

First, wash everything in baby detergent. I use Dreft. Then cut out the numbers from the jersey.

I also used this opportunity to cut all the patches and other decals from the Jersey. Like the two eagles on each sleeve, the NFL logo, and whatever else was attached to the jersey. I could embellish a bib later on.

Square up your two yards of fleece and fold into quarters. Cut along the folds. By square up, I mean make sure they are all equal sizes. Cut off the salvages and cut straight edges. It helps to have a large self healing mat and rotary cutter to do this.

Once I have the blanket squared off (which is kind of a pain in the ass), I mark the corners with color coded pins. That way I know it's supposed to be the upper left corner of the blanket and don't accidentally flip it sideways sew it wrong.

Find the middle of the blanket and pin the numbers on. Fold the raw edges under. You could use an iron here, but I was concerned about the heat and the jersey melting. Sew it on with either a straight stitch or zig zag. Just make sure you are sewing it to the RIGHT side of the fabric.

Next, get a piece of cardboard. Or not, if you are capable of doing this freestyle. More power to you. I needed a pattern. I measured the blanket and used pins to indicate where I wanted the football to be. I measured the vertical distance between the pins and drew a line on the cardboard. The curved line of the football was a little trickier. I found something in my house that was flexible and used it to trace the arc. It happened to be a piece of garden edging that we bought but never installed. When you're done, you should have a semi-circle of cardboard that fits your fleece.

Take the minky fabric - remember I'm making two blankets here. I folded it in half, then folded it along the length, just wider than the semicircle. Put the straight edge of the cardboard alongside the fold. Cut.

You should have two football shapes.

Take some white fabric and cut two inch strips. 

Fold the raw edges to the center and iron flat. 

I eyeballed the next part. I folded the raw edges of the minky fabric under and pinned in place. Then I lined up where I wanted the white stripes to be. No measuring, just guess and check until I was happy with it. Those got pinned into place.

Sew the white strips onto the minky fabric. Straight stitch or zig zag would work. If I were doing this project again, I would've reinforced the white strips with fusible web. They would've been more easy to place, pin, and sew if they were stiffer.

Sew the football onto the blanket.

Cut 6 inch long pieces of ribbon. I don't know how many you'll need. You can space these out as you wish. I found that anywhere from 4-8 inches apart looked nice. These are just going to be tabs the baby can play with. Pin them to the fabric wherever you want. If your ribbon has words or a pattern on it like mine, make sure the pattern goes in the same direction as the pattern on the fleece.

 Stitch the sides up. Here's the front:

 Here's the back.

Pregnancy Chronicles - Week 39

I could turn this blog post into a discussion regarding my cervix, but let's not. There is no baby yet. Still pregnant. Still very pregnant. And getting bigger. Could be because I don't want anything to eat besides donuts and ice cream.

I'm definitely ready for this baby to come. Yet this is the second week where the doctor reported no internal progress. This is the part where I could give you tons  of details about my cervix. Let's just say it's not ready.

Which means this pregnancy is likely to go past week 40. A lot of first pregnancies do. I believe the due date was calculated correctly because it was triple checked with ultrasound measurements. Between 5% and 10% of pregnancies end in week 41 or 42. So it happens.

It's what comes next that I'm not thrilled about. The longer the pregnancy goes on, the more the placenta could deteriorate. The baby may not be getting enough oxygen or nutrients. That's when they induce labor or schedule a Cesarean.

I don't want either of those. I suppose no one does really. But I REALLY don't. Look, I'm not stupid. I know for all my bitching and moaning each week, this pregnancy has actually been pretty easy compared to what other people go through. My aches and pains are not that bad. Yeah, it's uncomfortable, but manageable. I've had worse sore muscles than what I'm feeling in my lower back right now. My swollen ankles are disturbing to look at, but I can deal with it.

My point is, everything has been going perfectly for 39 weeks. I can't accept that labor will be different. I don't see my baby as something that has to be medically removed by drugs or scalpel. I can't help to feel that if I need a Cesarean, I will somehow have failed at pregnancy. That is probably irrational, but feelings don't need to make sense. And I do NOT judge other women who had Cesareans; everyone is different. I just know it's not for me.

So if the baby doesn't come by next Thursday, the doctor is going to run a non-stress test. This is risk-free and measures heart rate, movements, and uterine activity. The results may give us a better indication of the baby's health and if medical interference is necessary.

Keep your fingers crossed for me. This baby needs to come soon and naturally.

Favorite Romances

For Valentine's Day, here's my list of favorite romances. Mostly they are taken from books I read recently.

Alina and Mal. Orphaned together, joined the Army together, were forcibly separated, and well, I won't spoil the ending.

Meliora and Vidanric. They spend a good part of the book on opposite sides of the war. Meliora can be a bit irritating, but the second half (and the romance) make up for it.

Tris and Four. Because damn. They just have chemistry. They understand each other and click from the very beginning.

Jordan and Ty. She's the quarterback and he's on the team. And he waits for her while she figures out what's going on.

Tessa and Jeck. Okay, I'm not sure if this should count. The characters actually didn't get together in this book, or the sequel. But if there's ever a third book (it's been 6 years), it'll be awesome.

Senneth and Tayse.  Just perfection. This is one of my all time favorite books.





 

Cordelia and Aral. This is my other favorite book.

Yelena and Valek. She's the royal taste tester. He's the chief of security.

Lena and Alex. Because where they live, people are given lobotomies to remove love. People are put to death for exhibiting feelings.

Sonea and Akkarin. She's a bad-ass orphan plucked from the Thieves Guild. He's the High Lord at the magic academy.

Baby's New Normal

It occurred to me recently that my child will grow up with video chatting as the new normal. Facetime with the grandparents, aunts, uncles, and cousins will be more common than regular talking on the phone.

Laptops will be a joke. Smartphones and tablets will be the mobile device of choice. Amid the mix of rattles, stuffed toys, and pacifiers, there will be iPhones and iPads to keep baby entertained.

I wonder how many actual books he'll hold in his hands, or will all his reading be over the Kindle? By the time he gets to high school, will the school district still supply textbooks? Will he know what it's like to tote a huge backpack, gym clothes, and lunch to school everyday and somehow cramming it all into a locker that's 6 inches wide?

Will DVDs even matter anymore?

He'll grow up in a world where his every milestone will be captured on camera or video and shared for all friends and family to see. I don't think I could help myself; Facebook was created for mothers to brag about their children. It'll seem normal to him though, like everyone grew up this way.

He'll never spend time in a mall. But he will know the first name of the UPS man (Danny) and the post man (Alan).

I wonder if he'll even handle cash that often.

Will he look a photo album and wonder what the F this is? Why can't he click dammit?

Will he still have to pump gas? Or will that be a thing he had to do for his crappy first car?

He'll never hear what a dial-up modem sounds like. Or have to blow on something to get it to work.

Even right now before he's born, he has a video monitor that detects motion and has night vision. He has a stroller with shock absorbers and unfolds like a pop-up tent. He has a swing that goes both side-to-side and forward-to-back with different speeds and music. Nearly all his toys and equipment require batteries of some kind.

I really think the next technological age will begin with the invention of a longer, lighter battery. It'll be as revolutionary as the semiconductor.

And who knows? Maybe he'll live to be 120. Or maybe he won't die, but will have his consciousness uploaded to a storage device and live in a cyber world. Or transferred to a clone. The brain-computer interface is a real thing already being worked.

Working from home

Today ends my second week of working 100% at home. Let me start by saying I don't regret this. It's difficult for me to move around and my ankles are swollen. I don't have to haul a lunch, laptop, gym bag, and purse to and from the parking lot everyday. I'm also less tired than I was when I was going into the office.

It sounds like an introvert's dream right? Stay at home and still get paid. I have email, instant messaging, and a phone to coordinate with coworkers.

So why am I depressed. The last time I left the house was 6 days ago. I went to the grocery store and post office. Today I get to go to my doctor's appointment and the fabric store. Tomorrow a funeral (I don't know the person, just there for friend support). I'm not even sure if my car still works.

I need to get out. Every day I dress like I might leave the house. I get a shower, put on decent clothes, slide on some slippers, and power up the laptop. It makes me feel like less of a bum. Still I need to get out of here. Even if it's just to take a mini-break from the dog.

I'm not sure why I feel like this. There's nothing for me out there. I'm too massive to enjoy walking around stores. We have Netflix so I don't need to see a movie. I can order any household supplies or whatnots from the internet. I can get takeout food, even groceries delivered from PeaPod. I don't need a haircut. I can't think of a single GOOD reason that would justify leaving the house (other than the doctor).

So why do I want out so bad.

I'm starting to get a bit concerned about this. It's only been 2 weeks. I have 12 weeks of maternity leave ahead of me after the baby is born. The first week I'll have my parents; the second week will be his parents, then nothing. He goes back to work and everyone leaves. I have to keep an infant alive by myself for 10 more weeks. At home. Not working. Just feeding and wiping butt. Never leaving or doing anything other than that.

Here's a good way to put it, stolen from here:
<blockquote>[You] are alternating between crazy excitement about finally meeting your baby and crazy panic about oh my God, you’re finally going to meet your baby and they’re going to expect that you take it home and like, keep it alive and stuff.</blockquote>

Fine. Accuse me of being melodramatic, all you experienced parents out there. But postpartum depression is a real thing. If I get this mopey before the baby is born, I imagine it'll be worse after.

Saturday Mail

Announced yesterday, the US Postal Service (USPS) will stop delivering first class mail on Saturdays starting August 5th this year. What's first class mail? Letters, cards, magazines, catalogs, bills, flyers, etc.

As a home-based, small business owner, I find this disconcerting. I mail out a lot of packages on Saturday. There have been times where the mailbox didn't shut. USPS has said package delivery will continue on Saturday, but it's not clear to me if that includes First Class Packages or just Priority and Express only. Either way, they will not collect mail on Saturday.

Which means I will have to go to the post office every stinking Saturday to drop off packages. Assuming the post offices will still be open on Saturday. They better be; that's the only time of the week I can mail international packages.

Speaking of which, with the latest postage increase two weeks ago, mailing international packages just doubled in cost. Mailing to Canada used to cost $3.30 for a 3oz package. Now it's $7.35. The costs for United Kingdom and Australia went from $4.56 to $9.45. Yeah, that dried up my international business VERY quickly. Thanks for that.

The domestic rates increased too, but not enough for me to charge customers more for shipping. Even though it costs $0.05 more to mail a 3oz package, I can absorb that.

Anyway, I'm not thrilled about the change in Saturday deliveries. It may save the post office fuel and wages, but I can't be the only small business that depends on Saturday mail. I just hope my customers will be ok with slower delivery rates.

Pregnancy Chronicles - Week 38

The nursery is done! Everything is prepped and ready to go. We put the wall decals on this week as the last finishing touch. If you are wondering where I got them, check out this Etsy shop for a wide selection and decent prices. This set only cost $55 with shipping and was very easy to apply.

I'm still walking the dog and still doing yoga a few times a week. Just doing everything at home. The only time I'll leave the house this week is to go to my doctor's appointment on Friday. Then maybe the supermarket on Saturday and the fabric store too. I'm starting to feel like a cave troll. I don't even pay attention to the news because that's "out there" and I'm "in here". Gas prices increased? Heh, who cares.

Anyway, I'm fine. I have aches and pains, but nothing I can't handle.

What's that you say? You want more details than that? Okay here are the answers to some of your burning questions that you are too embarrassed to ask.

1. No, my belly button hasn't popped out. It's still an innie.

2. Yes, I waddle.

3. I sleep great. Though the hubby tells me I snore now.

4. Yes, I can see the baby move. My belly dances around. No, I can't identify which body part it is.

5. No, I don't have stretch marks (that I know about)

6. Sometimes my feet are swollen but never badly. Mostly I wear slippers around the house so I don't notice it too much.

7.  Yes, the hubby clips my toenails.

8. I still shave my legs even though it's hard to bend that way. Feeling like a gross cave troll is worse than a few minutes of discomfort.

9. Yes, I eat a lot. I eat at 7am, 10am, 12pm, 3pm, 6pm, and 9pm.

10. No, the doctor has not given me much indication if the baby will be early/late. I cannot help you in your "due date" pool. Yes, I know you have one. I can tell by the way you ask me the same question every time we talk. No, it doesn't bother me you have a "due date" pool. As long as you don't have something hurtful like a "weight gain" pool.

11. Which brings me to the last question. I gained 30lbs. Now you know.

Sewing Project Ideas

The dryer ate my husband's Eagles jersey. Don't worry, it was a $25 knockoff. But now there are large burn holes in the back, right at the butt. Since he's only worn it a few times, he asked me to find a project where we could save the majority  of the shirt.

Here's what I'm working with - both front and back numbers are in tact. The player's name is in tact. The sleeves have an Eagles patch on each one. The sides of the jersey is a mesh fabric.

I searched the internet (hooray for Pinterest!) for some possible upcycle ideas. I narrowed it down to a few choices:

A jersey pillow tutorial is doable. However, I made pillows before and in our house, the dog assumes any sewing project of mine must be a dog toy. The fluffy throw pillows did not last. We put up a valiant fight though, keeping them alive for a few weeks before we left the house and forgot to put them in the closet.

While pillows are a good, low-skill project, we'd have to keep them high on a shelf for display only. Still a possibility for the jersey.

Create a quilt out of old jerseys and tshirts. I love this idea. It's also massively time consuming and I really only have 1 jersey that needs to be recycled. It would be difficult to find something to put in each square. Maybe if we lived closer to Philadelphia and I could pick up old tshirts and sweatshirts from the thrift store.

Anyway, while this is an awesome idea, I may have to rule it out.

I found this awesome blanket from this Etsy shop. I could put the jersey numbers on the back and buy some minky fabric for the front. I'm not sure about doing it in a football shape. That seems like an unnecessary complication when a rectangular blanket would be just as cute.

Minky fabric is pretty expensive though. About $15 per yard. It would cost money to upcycle this jersey, which sorta defeats the point.

Also, I'm not sure how the blanket is secured to the back. It doesn't look quilted. If it's not secured to the back, it gets a little screwy in the washer. Ever wash non-quilted placemats? They aren't quite the same afterward, are they? I'd have the same problem because I don't want to quilt through the jersey numbers. This might be an easy, very cute project, but low in functionality.

Anyway, still looking for ideas to upcycle the burned out jersey. I'm leaning toward the minky blanket until I can find something better. Either way, it's a trip to the fabric store on Friday night! Say it with me now....ooooo fabrics!!!!

Book Review - Beauty Queens

Yikes. I couldn't finish this. It was just too....satirical.

The 50 girls from a national teenage beauty pageant were flying to a Caribbean island for a photo shoot. Their plane crashed, most of them died, including the pilot and film crew.

I think there are 12? 13? survivors. Anyway, enter heavy satire.

The author was trying to make some point about girls, women, beauty, culture, and society. Like we don't already know how stupid it is to have teenage girls be judged on a national stage in a bikini twirling a baton. No, boys don't have to do this. No, boys don't have to use spray-on tanner or dye their hair. They don't have to get low grades to be liked by their peers.

So, the message is not revolutionary. But it is crammed down the reader's throat with each sentence.  Not a syllable is uttered that doesn't make a girl sound stupid, clueless, or self-absorbed.

But it's a satire, so that's the point, right? Satire is fine, but when it comes at the expense of character development, that I cannot tolerate.

There were the white girls, a black girl, an Indian, a lesbian, a Texan Christian gun lover, and an intelligent one who entered the pageant to destroy it. Not sure how she did that since these national competitions aren't easy to get into. Anyway, no one had any back story, no motivation on why they wanted to win or why they were there in the first place. When they crashed, no one thought of their families or the girls that were killed. The 13 survivors actually voted on continuing to prepare for the pageant instead of working on survival because they'd be rescued soon.

Sorry but what? Even the most selfish, obnoxious teenage girl knows the difference between a luxury and a survival scenario. Yeah, when they have no responsibilities and are hanging out with their friends, they use "like" and "omg" and "what shade of lipstick is that?". But watch them at work or when applying for a job. That irritating inflection in their voice stops and they can speak like adults. Actually teenage girls are much better workers than boys.

And with more than half of them dead before page 1, you can guarantee that would be enough to drop the beauty pageant act and become a real person. For crap's sake, these girls were still wearing their sashes and calling each other Miss Colorado and Miss New Hampshire. Enough already. I just can't read any more.

Pregnancy Chronicles - Week 37

Nothing fits. All those maternity clothes I bought don't fit. I spent the day yesterday with my belly hanging out of my maternity shirt, and having to hike up my maternity jeans over my hips. I'm convinced maternity clothes were made for the 6-7 month bump. After that, they  just assume you'll be in slippers and your husband's sweatpants.

Well, not me. Today I'm in a dress. Yes, working from home, wearing a dress. It fits, it's comfortable, and it's the last thing in my closet before laundry day. Besides, it's not so easy to shave anymore so when I do, I'm showing some leg.

At least I get to stay home from now on. The boss agreed to let me telework 100% in the last few weeks of pregnancy. It was getting hard to get dressed, get shoes on, and haul my butt to work every day. I'm not as mobile as I once was. When I walk, I cover more ground side-to-side than forward.

Besides, this saves me from the asinine comments. I'm really tired of hearing, "You look ready to pop!" Yeah. Pop you in the face, you dumbass.

It also prevents those pity and sympathy looks as I waddle down the hallway. I don't need anyone to feel bad for me. I'm capable of doing my job still.

Meanwhile, I went my first week ever without gaining any weight! Woohoo! No idea what this means, but I'm excited. A 30lb increase is enough, thanks. The doctor started talking about what to do if the baby is 1-2 weeks late. How we'd have to make a choice to induce or keep waiting. Induction means more painful contractions and increased chance of a Cesarean. Waiting longer than 2 weeks past the due date is not done very much any more and goes against today's medical standards of practice.

Today's medical standards of practice also result in 30% of women getting a Cesarean, which is a lot higher than in other 1st world nations. The WHO recommends a rate of 5-10% nationally.

So I let the doctor know I wasn't down the Cesarean. We didn't talk about it any more than that because the due date is still 3 weeks away, and we're anticipating a very normal 7lb birth weight with a low chance of a breech birth.

I started making a checklist on what to pack for the hospital. The recommended advice is to have your bags already packed two weeks ago. I find that difficult to do since you have to pack clothes and slippers and whatnot and I'm already digging through my wardrobe to find stuff to fit. Besides, don't you have a few hours of early labor before you even go to the hospital? I'm sure I can find 20 minutes to pack before the contractions are 4 minutes apart.

Anyway, the checklist freaked me out more than you'd think. I realized I didn't have nursing bras and throwaway clothes to be ruined. I ended up panicking and spending $60 at Walmart. Whatever, it's dumb to spend money on clothes this late in the pregnancy. Who knows what size I'll be. It made me feel better though, so my hubby considers that $60 well spent.

Yoga

Well, I've gone and done it. I turned into one of those New Age hippie freaks that recommends yoga for all ailments of the body.

It happened by accident, I assure you.

I started taking yoga classes about a year and half ago. They are free at work and are timed perfectly with the end of my working day. At the time, I had a case of plantar fascitiis that wouldn't go away, and the doctor recommended daily stretches to lessen the pain. Yoga is stretching, right, so what did I have to lose.

I lost my skepticism. Seriously, yoga works. It works so well that I'm recommending it to random strangers. I hear the words coming out of my mouth and see their looks of "yeah right you New Age hippie" and I think to myself, how did I get here?

I got pregnant, that's how. As I got bigger and bigger, I kept going to yoga class.When I got weight-related shin splints in the second semester, yoga took the pain away. Early in the third trimester, it eased the tension in my calves, preventing painful leg cramps (bananas helped too). Now it's late in my pregnancy and I have loads more pain - a sciatic nerve in my tailbone, pain in my lower back, legs that don't feel strong enough to carry me, and a 6lb baby that has settled into my pelvis making general movements uncomfortable.

Yoga helps all that. A few sessions of yoga and the sciatic nerve stopped screaming. My lower back gets stretched in pleasant, pain-relieving ways. My legs still feel weak, but just knowing that I can hold warrior poses is encouraging. Yoga even helps shift the baby weight around some, giving temporary relief.

So when a random pregnant woman came shuffling down the hall barely putting one foot in front of the other, she asked me if I ever had sciatic pain. I said, "Yes! Just last week and I was moving like you. Then I did a couple 30 minute sessions of yoga and felt a lot better. I kept it up throughout the week and now the pain is gone."

She gave me the crazy person look and shuffled away.

I guess I have become a yoga-loving New Age hippy. Well, whatever. All I know is that it works. Now I have my own mat, carrying bag, DVD, and yoga block. As long as I don't show up on a beach somewhere doing yoga to welcome the sunrise.

Training

I despise job training. Mostly because it takes you away from your job just so a retired ex-employee can "teach" you stuff that hasn't been relevant for three years.

It's pointless, dumb, and costly. And almost impossible to schedule because the classes pop up at the most inconvenient times and in terrible offsite locations.

The only people who can regularly go to training are the people who don't have much to do. The unproductive, unreliable ones in the office.

You can see where this is going. The unproductive people are the ones with the most training credentials and certifications. They can't actually do the work, but they can sit in a class for a week and pad their resume.

Many available jobs require these credentials. Even if you can do the work competently, without the piece of paper saying you completed the class, you aren't eligible to compete for the position.

I was recently informed of two things:
1. The boss entered my name for a bunch of awards and achievement recognitions last year, only to be rejected from the pile for my lack of training certifications. He was quite pissed and blamed me.

2. There is a job opening up that I'm perfect for, but will be competing against unproductive people with more training certifications.

I realize a majority of this is my fault. I chose to make my work a priority over job training. I stupidly thought it would speak for itself. I met the minimum training requirements of my current job and stopped taking classes. Because I didn't have time to cram them in and still get all my work done.

So now, to remain competitive with the unproductive morons, I have to take a 5 week course that is an hour from my house. I don't see this happening anytime this year since I'm expecting a baby in 4 weeks. Kid has gotta eat and momma needs to be around. Plus, I'm already missing 12 weeks of work this year. An additional 5 is just too hard to schedule. My plan is to enroll in this course and show the bosses I'm working toward another certification, but keep cancelling and rescheduling until the kid is old enough to eat solid food.

Sucks, but what are you gonna do.

Pregnancy Chronicles - Week 36

So only 4 weeks away. People are coming out of the woodwork with their early baby stories.

My baby came 4 weeks early.

Mine came 3 weeks early.

I went to my doctor's checkup and was already dilated 3cm.

I was dilated 5cm and was sent right over to the hospital!

Mostly, I'm good at ignoring people. Sometimes I do think to myself, "well shit. What if the baby comes this week?" 

And if he did come 4 weeks early, it wouldn't be a disaster. It would be a scramble, but within control. Yes, there is a ladder in the nursery. Yes, the wiring is hanging out of the wall. No, not everything has been washed. But we do have a bassinet, diapers, and some outfits. We have bibs and boppies and burp cloths and blankets. We'd be fine.

Speaking of the nursery, yes there are wires hanging out of the wall. I think the talk of people's babies coming early freaked the husband out. He decided last weekend that we absolutely needed an overhead light in the nursery. So he got several books on wiring, climbed into the attic, started fiddling with the light sockets, and pretty much took stuff apart. That's fine. Everyone deals with stress differently. He'll eventually install the light, or put everything back together.

It would be nice to have a clean, vacuumed nursery with everything put away and decorated with cute crap, but hey. That's for Pinterest. We're living in the real world.

I do have my 36 week doctor checkup in two days. That's when they start measuring the cervix to determine.....well, I'm not sure what they are doing. I suppose checking for overall health, dilation, infection, and whatnot. I'm so used to seeing the doctor weekly that I stopped caring what the appointments were for. Step on the scale, pee in a cup, listen to the heartbeat, see you next week.

Anyway, I suppose it's time to start packing a hospital bag. I'm at the point when people ask, "when are you do?" I can simply say the 20th and not specify the month. If that's not an indication we're getting close, I'm not sure what is.

We did narrow the names down to a top 3. An equal top 3. So we're going to wait to see what the kid looks like before picking the final name. Hopefully he looks the same to both of us and won't be a difficult discussion. On a funny note, while I was cleaning out the nursery closet, I found a notebook that had my handwritten wedding notes, plans, and bridal shower gift list. It also had notes from the trip to the dog's breeder where we put an asterisk next to the puppy with the yellow collar as being the best dog for us. So when I found this notebook, I knew that's where we'd make our naming lists for the baby. I'll also use it for the hospital bag checklist and to track contractions.

Book Review - The Selection

Ah, so much love. The Selection by Kiera Cass is really, really well written.

It took me a while to get to this book because 1) it has a foo-foo dress on the cover, and 2) the synopsis sounds way too much like The Bachelor.

35 girls get picked to go live in the palace, competing for the hand of the prince. The winner marries the prince, becomes princess, and eventual queen.

It's really a lot better than that though. The world building is amazing. After WWIV, North America is reinvented as a new country. It's broken into provinces, with a ruling family instead of a president. There is also a caste system, ranking One (royalty) to Eights (homeless). The protagonist is a Five, the artisan caste. She is a singer and plays instruments for money at parties. Most of the time, her family has enough to eat.

She is secretly in love with a Six, who she meets every night in the treehouse after curfew. Sixes are the maids and laborers. He never has enough to eat.

 Meanwhile, the prince is actually a cool dude. He is caring, intelligent, and compassionate. He's very easy to like.

It sounds like it's leading into a crappy love triangle, but it didn't at all. Rather than choosing between two guys, it was choosing which direction her life would take. She could marry her first love and struggle with starvation for the rest of her life. Or she could pursue the prince, try to win the competition and become queen. Or she could let things fall where they may and see where life takes her after the Selection. It was really well written.

As for the other girls, there was only some cattiness and backstabbing. Most of the girls have their own set of hardships, but the author doesn't go into those. Sometimes a girl will cry or say something cryptic, hinting at a possible backstory. Everyone, even the supporting characters, have depth.

There's a lot of mystery in the book too; many unanswered questions. Why are there no history books anymore? What really happened in WWIII and WWIV? Who are the rebels and what do they want? How was the caste system created?

I can't wait for the sequel. If it's anything like The Selection, it'll be a seriously good read.

Assault Weapons

I'll warn you up front; I have a pretty unpopular opinion about banning assault weapons. Nearly everyone I talked to has looked at me like I just said the Dumbest Thing Ever.

So I agree that something needs to be done about gun violence in this country. A young man in Philadelphia has a greater chance of being shot than a soldier in Afghanistan. Clearly whatever we're doing is not working.

Yet the problem I have is when people say, "You shouldn't be allowed to buy an assault rifle. Why do you need one?"

Well, I have a samurai sword I don't need. Also keep a serious utility knife by the bed. Not to mention all the baseball bats and power tools that could do serious damage.

I don't need any of these, but I want them and I bought them. I'm concerned this line of thinking will expand to other types of weapons. Swords, nun-chucks, throwing stars, machetes, etc.

But none of those are weapons that can kill crowds of people, you say.

That is true. If I wanted to take out a crowd, I can get all the supplies I need from a hardware store and make a pipe bomb. Just saying.

Look, my point is the weapon itself is just a blunt object. Like my samurai sword, it is a display item in the homes of collectors. Without ammunition, it's just a weird paper weight.

That's right, ammo is the real danger, not the weapon. Being able to buy armor piercing rounds, hollow points, or 30 round magazines of 5.56mm or 7.62mm. Is the sniper rifle a problem or the 50 caliber ammunition?

A real chicken and egg argument.

Guns and weapons have always been valuable and highly collectible among historians and war buffs. Ammo, not so much. I think if you ban the weapon, you increase the black market. If you ban the ammo, well there would still be a black market for it, but not as large. And if confiscated, ammo is easier to render inert and dispose. Look up Explosive Ordinance Disposal (EOD) if you don't believe me.

It also gets around the second amendment nicely. Sure you have the right to bear arms, but it doesn't say anything about ammo.

My iPhone

Alright. I love my iPhone. It is my very first smartphone. I thought I could get through life without one, but what would be the point of that? It's just so fun and convenient.

The reason we didn't get smartphones years ago is because we're cheap. We have laptops and we're around computers everyday at work. I'm not even allowed to have a phone at work; that's about 9 hours a day where paying for a data plan is worthless. It's not just me either, the husband doesn't get reception at work due to equipment interference. We couldn't justify the cost of two smartphones and a family data plan.

Then Christmas came and it just seemed like a good gift to get each other. Besides, I'll be home on maternity leave for 3 months this year. Having a handheld device would make more sense than trying to fit a laptop and baby on my lap.

The baby is not here yet, but I'm addicted to my phone already. So is hubby. Gmail, Facebook, Words with Friends, Scramble, Plants vs Zombies, Family Feud, Google Maps, Etsy. We have to charge our phones daily.

Facetime is pretty awesome too.

And I know I don't need any of this. We got along fine without it for years. It's just too damn fun. What a convenient way to add more pictures of my dog to the internet.

Just wish it were cheaper.

Pregnancy Chronicles - Week 35

So hey! We're all caught up on the pregnancy chronicles blog posts. From now on, it'll be in real time.

The work continues on the nursery. More laundry, more purchases. I ordered a toy chest because the toys we got from the shower had babies of their own. I haven't bought a single toy; I don't know where they all came from. Hubby bought and assembled closet shelves last night. Now we have a place for all those extra blankets and bibs and books.

Funny how baby stuff starts with B.
blanket
bib
burp cloth
Bumpo
bassinet
bedding
books
bottle
breast pump
Boppy
bouncer

When we get tired in the evening, every word starts with a "b" syllable. "Hand me that b-onesie please."

Meanwhile, my discomfort grows. The baby dropped early. What that means is he's no longer kicking my ribs, but sitting directly on my bladder. I'm trying hard not to waddle since that is undignified. And it makes people feel bad for you at work. Still, it's difficult with a 5 pounder in your pelvis.

Also got to feel what a pinched sciatic nerve feels like.
See the picture of the buttocks on the left? There's a big nerve cluster that comes out of your tailbone. In pregnancy, this nerve - the sciatic nerve - gets a bit squeezed from the weight of an enormous uterus.

Luckily my pain only lasted 1 day. I did some yoga, took Tylenol, had a hot water bottle, and made sure to sleep with a pillow between my legs.

But dang, that was some pain in the butt. Every time I stood up, I had to wait several minutes (minutes, not seconds) for the pain to stabilize so my right side could bear my weight. It was just the transition from sitting to standing that was killer. I could walk around after I waited a few minutes.

I think I'll do some yoga every day from now on.

Lastly, I had a little surprise at the pharmacy. I refilled my prenatal vitamins, only to find out the doctor changed my type from Vitafol-OB to Vitafol-One+DHA. The difference? Besides some omega-3 fats, about $120. Yup, I normally pay $30 for a 90 day supply. These suckers cost $150 after insurance! I returned them to the pharmacy, called the doctor, asked her change the prescription to something else. She said I needed the DHA for the baby's brain health and faxed over Vitafol-OB+DHA.

Also $150.

I told the pharmacist I couldn't afford it and did some research online. Turns out you can buy these shitters OTC. I got Nordic Naturals from Amazon - 90 day supply for about $25. Why the blazes did I ever need a prescription?? These are just vitamins for crap's sake, not antibiotics or pain meds. There's nothing to justify the $150 co-pay. I'll compare the ingredients when the Amazon shipment arrives, but at first glance, they looked identical to me.

Healthcare rip off.

Book Review - 12:21

Eh. It was okay. One of those "what-if" thrillers. What if the Mayan prediction came true?

12:21 is about an epidemic that is released when a Mayan artifact is smuggled into Los Angeles. The story follows a linguist and a doctor who attempt to save the world.

Honestly, not enough story or character-driven plot. This is one of those instances where the author wants to show how much research he did in writing this novel. That's great; I'm glad we have people in the world that smart. I'd just rather have  good characters in the story than think about how much work the author did. The author should be invisible.

Here's a hint: if the afterword contains encyclopedic knowledge of what is true about Mayan culture, cities, prion diseases, as well as information on what is truth and fiction, it's possible you put too much research into the novel.

Too much info on the Mayan civilization and all you get is a longer book. It  felt like it took forever to read.

Anyway, the story is similar to Outbreak except half of it is medical info and the other half is Mayan info. If you like smart thrillers, you might like this. It's just not my thing.

Baby Shower Guide

Now having been on both sides of the baby shower - a participant of many and guest of honor at my own - I'm qualified enough to dole out advice. The next shower I go to, I will rock that party.

In the past, I usually bought something off the registry. I put the gift receipt in the card and couldn't care if they returned it or not. I never look through Facebook photos to see if the baby was wearing the thing or playing with the thing or puking on the thing. I bought it, stuck it in a bag with some tissue paper,  and wiped my hands of it.

Sound familiar?

If you'd like to break out of the baby shower doldrums (because what's worse than a Babies R' Us registry print out? I mean seriously, can the item descriptions get any more vague?? You have to match barcodes just to be sure it's what they asked for.), here are a few tips on gifts to give the expectant mother.

1. She's going to get a lot of clothes. New clothes, old clothes, cute clothes, different size clothes. Give her a way to organize it. The next day after the shower, I bought these closet dividers because I needed some way to separate the sizes and keep them that way. It's one of those things you don't think about until you see the mountain of onesies, sleepsacks, and wee little things that you have to wash and inventory.

2. Speaking of laundry, nothing like a bottle of Dreft as a gift. It may not be fun or glamorous but the parents will need to wash all those new and used clothing items. This is another thing I didn't think about on the registry but had to buy right away.

3. Oh those gift receipts. Babies R Us is the worst. There is no item description - just a bar code. So picture this scenario: you open the gift, pass the clothes around, and when they come back, they get loaded into another bag that fits into the car. Now you have a gift receipt with no clue what it's for. It's not just one gift receipt either; it's a stack of them. If you give clothes, blanket, bibs, burbs....basically anything cloth, pin the receipt to the item directly. If it's not a fabric item, tape the gift receipt to the gift.

4. Instead of toys, thinking about a toy chest or toy storage device. Maybe shelves or bins or something that slides under the crib.

5. Think about groupons or gift certificates for photography services, meal/grocery deliveries, birth announcements, or a housecleaner. Something to help out the family after the baby arrives.

6. Batteries.

7. Don't get something that requires the parents to do extra work. Like journals, scrapbooks, keepsakes, etc. There's already so much assembly for every piece of gear you get. Plus all the laundry to wash the clothes and sheets before the baby comes. Organzing the nursery is a chore too. While a scrapbook might be an awesome thing to have, I'd prefer not to have an empty one.

8. Or go with funny signs to keep solicitors away. I don't know about you, but we get a ton of people to the door asking for donations and to seal the driveway. Last night, I just let the dogs bark at the person until he left. (he was wearing an orange shirt and had a clipboard. Dead giveaway for magazine salesman.) Another thing you can do is a garden flag or outside banner to announce the new arrival to the neighborhood. Something to welcome the new mom home from the hospital.

So if you want to give a thoughtful gift but don't have time to sew a quilt or crochet a blanket, I recommend one of the options above. Even if the new mom doesn't know she needs it yet.

Pregnancy Chronicles - Week 34

So wow! Big happenings this week. I was thinking about breaking this into two posts - one for the baby shower and one for the childbirth class. But no, it'll just be really long. You might want to get a snack and come back.

First, my shower was awesome. I can't believe how many people came, especially considering it was a drive for most everyone. Some of them I hadn't seen in years. It was surprising to receive that kind of heartfelt support from people, especially since baby showers can be kind of dull, watching a huge uncomfortable woman open gift after gift. I can't think of a good word to describe the feeling seeing the house jammed packed full of relatives who were there for me. Profound enlightenment? Gratitude? It'll come to me. It's humbling to know that even though family may not live close, but they are a phone call, email, or invite away. I'm grateful for that, as I know many people who do not have such support.

And it's not just showing up at the shower. I received beautiful handmade gifts that must've taken FOREVER. People took the time to shop and wrap gifts and showed up with a smile. It's so easy just to send a gift card.

The food was wonderful, the company fantastic, and the gifts generous. I can easily say it was a good day I'll remember forever.

And wow. Did we get some stuff for the baby. We're taking inventory this week of what we have, what we need to get, and how best to use the gift cards in combination with the registry completion discount. We maximize cost effectiveness in our household.

The next day we took a 4 hour childbirth express class at the hospital. It goes over the basics of what you need to know about delivery and labor. It was either this or a 7 week course, 2 hours per week. That wasn't happening.  Anyway, we were subjected to movies, diagrams, and the personal questions of other couples in the class. Pretty gross. There's no way I'm coming out of this with any dignity.

Parts of the class made me feel better; other parts made it worse. The hospital rooms were large and cheerful. The bed allows you to sit completely upright like you are giving birth upon a throne. That was the cool part. The scary stuff was all the medical procedures - episiotomy, Cesarian, even the epidural going dangerously close to your spinal column. Did you know labor hurts a boatload more when you are induced? Because the contractions are medically strengthened. Pass on that thanks.

And I found out that you aren't supposed to use a bottle until the 4th week. That's an entire month where another living creature is entirely dependent on me and no one else. This didn't hit me until now because I have a super supportive husband. We've always done things 50/50; I had a picture  of me doing half the feedings and him doing the other half. Same with diapers and whatever else comes up. I have to say, WTF here.

I left the class a bit more freaked out than reassured. Hubby is only taking the first 2 weeks off before he goes back to work. This to conserve sick leave in case a day care is not available at the end of my 12 week maternity leave.  After those two weeks though, I somehow have to keep an infant alive by myself with only the dog and occasional family members helping out. This is my reward? After 9 months of gestational pains this is what the universe gives me? Insomnia, abandonment, and depression?

Did you know that 80% of new parents suffer from postpartum depression? Out of those 80%, 20% need treatment for it. I learned that in class.

This is nuts. I can't believe just anyone is allowed to be a parent. The government really needs to license this shit.

I think the real purpose of a baby shower is to remind you of all the family you do have. So when you're home alone with a newborn, feeling depressed and abandoned, think about everyone who showed up at the shower and pick a phone number from the list.

Pregnancy Chronicles - Week 33

Hooray! Christmas! A week of hanging out at my parents house with people to pamper me! It's good timing because I can't even put my socks on straight. Hubby has been doing that and clipping my toenails, poor man.

I have to say, it's really nice to have people around to bring me milk and cookies so I don't have to roll myself off the couch. Plus, there are three other dogs that can entertain my crazy nut. I don't have to walk him as far!

And everyone did an excellent job of buying gifts for me, not the baby. We may be one entity at the moment, but I appreciate being treated as an individual, not a mommy. Even the onesie my brother bought was really for me because it had a dragon on it and I like dragons.

As for presents, I finally got an iPhone. That way I can take pictures and video of the baby and clog everyone's Facebook wall. It also has Facetime so I can show everyone the baby without having to use Skype.

I also got indoor/outdoor slippers because I can't reach my feet (wonder if I can get permission to wear them to work). Avengers, Hunger Games, books, yoga mat and prenatal DVD, sewing supplies, and a custom-made computer program to help manage inventory for my collar business. Overall, pretty awesome stuff.

I do need to mention a certain Etsy shop where I bought some cute shirts for the family. Signatureshirts sells this Real Men Change Diapers for $15.95. The husband has already worn it even though he has not changed a diaper yet. I dunno, I think it's a way for him to tell people he's going to be a dad since he doesn't have the giant belly to announce it for him.

Anyway, if you're going to a baby shower anytime soon, check out this shop and get the father-to-be something fun.

Goodreads Challenge

Alright. I officially fell short of my goal to read 100 books in 2012. But I came damn close. 92 was the final count.

If you're wondering if I actually did read these books, yes I did. Even did reviews for many of them and posted them on this blog. Ask me about any of them, I'll tell you the plot.

I did mostly pick smaller, quicker-to-read books. There was some George RR Martin in there and other high fantasy. Only 2 short stories, which I thought should count since each Martin book was 1,000 pages.

I ended up abandoning 10 books. Those didn't count toward the total because I didn't finish reading them. Because I needed to average 2 books a week, I couldn't afford to waste time on something that dragged or put me to sleep.

I signed up for 2013, but for half as many. With a baby coming this year, I probably won't have the time or the energy to put much into reading. I hope that's not the case because it's one of my favorite things to do. With any luck, I'll hit 50 books by August or September. And no, Goodnight Moon doesn't count.

Pregnancy Chronicles - Week 32

Last week of work in 2012! When I go back in 2013, I'll be 8 months pregnant. 8 months pregnant in a cubicle. There's something wrong with that, I think.

Anyway, not much going on. The glider rocker arrived and is in the nursery. The dog thanks us for his new chair. It's right by the window so he watches the squirrels. This might be an issue.

The pregnancy has progressed into the zone where the doctor wants to see me every two weeks. I dunno, maybe they like analyzing pee. My tests haven't been great lately. I ate a can of tuna fish and a cough drop and my sugar levels still looked like I had been snacking on cookies all day. I may have to pee in more cups and do more tests. Who knows. I passed the glucose test, so I'm sure it's nothing.

Next week is Christmas and probably the last week I can travel away from home. Have to be close to my doctor and my hospital from now on. I can't tell if I'm looking forward to birth or nervous about it. I waiver back and forth. I think I'll feel better after the tour of the hospital.

Sorry this post is short, but the weeks go by pretty quickly. I blinked and I'm 25lbs heavier and can't get off the couch. It feels like time is flying.

Pregnancy Chronicles - Week 31

Just got back from our babymoon in Miami! We probably wouldn't have gone on vacation this late in the pregnancy and this close to Christmas, but a cousin was getting married in Florida. I'm a big believer in not skipping family events unless you have a seriously good reason. I've been feeling good, the doctor said it was okay, and I have enough vacation leave, so off we went.

And had a fabulous time. We got tropical fruit smoothies and empanadas at a farmer's market stand. Went to the Seaquarium to catch the dolphin shows. Hung out with family, ate Cuban food, and went out for ice cream in the evenings.

I had to wear yoga pants and t-shirts because all my maternity clothes are for winter. I thought about going to a thrift shop and getting some shorts, but didn't bother. I drank water when I got hot, dipped my feet in the ocean, or found some AC.

Unfortunately it was a lot of walking. We were smart about booking the hotel in a central location on Miami Beach. Yes, it was pricey ($30 a day to park!), but we had to minimize the amount of time I was on my feet. Even so with the wedding (dancing), going to the farmer's market (1.5 miles), walking back along the beach (1.5 miles in SAND), and going out to ice cream (1 mile)....my calves were screaming. I stretched every opportunity I could.

It still didn't prevent  my very first leg cramp. We hadn't even woken up for the day yet. I rolled over, stretched out my legs and WHAM. I felt my calf muscle shift upwards, all by itself, and harden into a ball of spasming rage.

I started screaming and flailing about. Husband wrestled my leg down and started massaging the cramp away. Probably not how he wanted to wake up. It took a few minutes to pass and wasn't quite right for the rest of the day. Actually, it's still a little weak. When I drive the car, I can feel it start to cramp again. I have to switch to my left foot when that happens.

Other than that, things are good. I'm sleeping like I'm unconscious and the doctor said yesterday that I can pretty much eat as much as I want. Hello donuts!