I am not pleased with the format on this page. You have to scroll through each post. I can not figure out how to separate each post into different links. In an attempt to help readers for now, each post is separated by an image.
Originally written after the news disclosed that at least 17 girls from the same town made and followed through with a pregnancy pact. Overwhelmed with my own first-time motherhood experiences, I was a little dismayed - okay, I was really just pissed.
Oh snap. Could anything be crazier than this pregnancy pact that has just exploded in Smalltown, USA? Thank you Jamie Lynn. Thank you Juno. Thank you Jolie. Once again the media has glamorized the unthinkable- smoking, drugs, alcohol,and now child rearing -they can make anything seem super neat-o!
Don't get me wrong. I LOVE my baby girl, but there is a reason that motherhood is so wonderful. Just like anything else that is rewarding – it is hard as hell. Emotionally and physically, this is the hardest lifestyle change I have ever tackled. And now we have to watch as a crew of bored teenagers got together and decided to knock themselves up in order to be in the cool kids club. Jesus, Lord have mercy! I thought it was hard enough to keep up with having the right purse, shoes, and cell phone to stay hip. Forget girls' nights out to TGIF's - these nut jobs are running to the OBGYN together.
So here's what I am going to do. I am going to start my own PSI (postponing sexual involvement) class. But apparently Ms. DJ's approach wasn't enough for these horny little crazies, so I am going to offer a more in-your-face (or other anatomical part) class that reveals the dirty truths of pregnancy and motherhood. My class will expose all the horrors that seemingly don't happen to the glorious freak-of-nature moms like Angelina. Oh no! It will be my goal and mission to shock the young gals of our nation to keep their legs closed until they can handle the realities of motherhood. This is PSI-R: Pregnancy Stories in Reality.
Warning: What you are about to read is graphic. If you are easily embarrassed, offended, or belong to the male species, walk away.
The PSI-R Curriculum
Part I - The Hospital Sessions
Step 1: You must take a pic of your vagina. This area must be ungroomed - no neat little bikini waxes, darlin'. Take this pic and post it to Facebook (if you haven't already), show it around to a few family members and of course a few complete strangers. This is just to get used to the inevitable display your va-jay-jay will encounter when you are half naked in the hospital bed and everyone and their brother comes to check your cervix while family members look on.
Step 2: Cook up a mixture of Jell-O & water. Any flavor will do. Now, lie in a bed and with a little help from a friend, pour this gooey fluid onto the bottom half of the wanna-be mommy and then lie in this mess for anywhere up to 20 hours. Just a little prep for the ol' delivery room when you get the pleasure of wallerin' in your own amniotic fluid.
Step 3: Each 'student' will then be taken to a public area (park, department store, mall etc) where you will be instructed to poop in the middle of this crowded area. Oh yeah – having a baby is a blessing, especially the part where you poop in the floor in the midst of pushing a human from your peehole right in front of a herd of total strangers! Magical.
Step 4: Now after the delivery one must be prepared for all those visitors. After three-four days of not showering and minimal sleep (3 hours tops) you will be allowed to slip into a comfy pair of mesh, see-through undies, a pad comparable to mamaw's Depends, and a thin, see-through, butt-bearing gown - all compliments of the maternity ward. With no make-up, no contacts, and no hair products you will parade through your high school halls stopping to chat with friends and family. You must be able to carry on conversations and answer the same set of questions to anyone that wants to know the weight, height, and details of baby.
Part II: You're home and the nurse is gone, now what?
Step 1: What about that - you are bringing home a new baby AND a new body - but this isn't a post-plastic surgery body, darlin'. Let's try a 'hands on' activity where all the cute little girls take tracing paper and charcoal/chalk to my stomach where they can do a "rubbing" of my stretchmarks that are so enormous and deep one can run their fingers across them like the bumps on a Braille menu. At this time it may be appropriate for me to address belly hygiene: to avoid infection and disease of one's tummy area, it is important to remember to lift the fat pouch and scrub under the flabby roll each and every day.
Step 2: Ladies, you must get used to the high demand of your little bundles of joy who will go through spells where they MUST be held at all costs; therefore, tie one of your hands behind your back and proceed with 18-20 hours of your daily routine (minus the shower, because only a miracle from God allows something as lavish as a shower to occur). Pee, poop, eat, make a bottle, walk the dog, text...you name it…you have to find a way to do it.
Step 3: To get use to the inevitable bouts of crying (i.e wailing and gnashing) you;ll be given iPods loaded with Mariah Carey's greatest hits. For at least 3 hours a day you press play, crank the volume and then go about your day listening to the high pitch screams without losing their patience or showing any ounce of irritation. Once the wailing starts there may be nothing one can do to stop it, so the iPods will be programmed to not turn off or lose volume until 'mommy' is on the verge of locking herself in the bathroom. Not to mention that frustration will only cue the noise to increase in volume and pitch, so you must stay calm. Here the strategy is to grin and bear it, ladies.
Step 4: On a special day of class, you will come in dressed in your favorite and cutest outfits prepared to go out to dinner with friends. At the moment you are walking out the door (at least 20 minutes late already) you will be splashed with a thick mix or sour cream and old milk on either the left or right shoulder. You never know when that little cutie will spit up, so you will not be able to change for various reasons – no time, no other shirt clean, your other shirts STILL don't fit, etc. You simply wipe off the excess and go out their door wearing the newest accessory like it is the latest pair of Gucci sunglasses.
Step 5: All girls need to get use to that new mommy look – warning this is NOT what you see you on TV. After a night of less than three hours sleep, no shower for at least 24 hours, legs that are just prickly to the calf and then full on hairy to thigh, a mess of hair that hasn't had a brush ran through it in a few days – the clients will be prompted to run to Target or Wal-Mart in your "cleanest" (translation: you pick it from the laundry pile and it doesn't smell 'that bad') garb that "kinda fits" (translation: you wear the loosest clothing that is more than likely some leftover remnant from your maternity wardrobe). You get ready in less than 10 minutes and NEVER look into a mirror, until you unexpectedly walk by a reflective window and have to fight back the tears that ensue. This experience is not over until you walk around the store seeing everyone you know – not to mention having to brush by all the fresh, cute put together women who make one feel as though postpartum depression would be a mild alternative compared to the deep self-loathing that overwhelms you.
Step 6: Ladies, you will also have to be well-versed in mommy lingo. First you will analyze several stool samples and be able to describe the color, frequency, and consistency of each bowel movement while casually discussing it over dinner. Other mommy lingo includes obnoxiously referring to yourself as "mommy" (it just happens) while your husband becomes "daddy" and then you create and use as many unbearably cute nicknames for your baby – toot, tootie, munkin, pumpkin, pee head, etc. Of course you naturally use these names in public without hesitation.
These are just some starters – motherhood is a gift that I feel honored to be blessed with. However, it is NOT for the faint of heart. Being a mommy is not a fad. It is not some pinky promise you make with your friends while you're sharing nachos and tweeting. I refuse to have all my hard work insulted and degraded by the simple act of a bunch of desperate teens who get knocked up because having a 'baby bump' is the newest and hottest 'lovely lady lump'.
Class dismissed.
This post was made toward the end of my pregnancy. This has to be valid proof that pregnancy brain is real.
As my pregnancy draws to an end I wanted to record some of my thoughts before I become overwhelmed by the new baby. I am purposefully separating my pregnancy and the delivery simply to not let a few hours of hell taint the entire 9-month experience. The delivery will have a separate blog, one that parents will let their children read in order to keep them abstinent.
Looking back on this experience I am, for the most part, undecided as to how I feel about pregnancy. Maybe it was the newness of everything that makes me hesitate to say I loved the whole thing, but mostly it was the hot flashes, stretch marks, weight gain, incessant urinating (sometimes on myself) , inability to shave adequately, swollen limbs, and lack of alcohol that makes me not want to jump on board the 'feel-like-a-natural-woman' bandwagon at this very moment. However, I am willing to admit that there are some moments of this pregnancy that I will miss:
1. Elastic waistband pants. I won't get to enjoy these fabulous bloated and bathroom friendly pants again for while-maybe somewhere around the time I start wearing Poise pads and buying fixodent? I will have to retrain my fingers to button again. I'll also throw a shout out here to enormous, stretchy granny panties - our time together was intimate - but my due to circumstances beyond my control (well, not totally beyond my control; I'm just lazy) I'm turning my unmentionables over to Spanx.
2. Eating a DQ blizzard multiple times (sometimes at 10 am) during a week with little to no guilt. I can't imagine what would have happened had they created the Tin Roof blizzard any sooner. Thank goodness it didn't come out until early in my third trimester, otherwise I would be even more enormous.
3. My unabashed willingness to use public bathrooms. I am contemplating writing a book/brochure on the cleanest and most preggo friendly public restrooms. This experience may open the door to me becoming a public restroom designer/consultant. I have seen many public washrooms - btw, someone really needs to call Walmart and update their look.
4. Using my pregnancy as an excuse to buy furniture. During this time I have been treated to a new bed, mattress, and recliner- all in the name of motherhood. If I could hold out for one more month, I think I could negotiate a flat screen out of this deal - or at least a nice ottoman.
5. Along the same line, never having to explain my shopping splurges while pregnant. Gary asked no questions when I brought home the ice shaver and sugar-free sno-cone juices, the maternity clothes, or the extra cleaning supplies There was just something about the way I walked in the door that made him terrified to murmur a single question regarding what was in the bags.
6. My personal moving crew: my pal, Stokes and my husband (and my brother, like once). I will miss not having to lift any heavy objects. Gone are the days when i just sit and point.
7. Getting out of kitty litter duty - enough said.
8. My portable table. I will miss my unique ability to set my bowl of Coco-Roos on my belly and eat my breakfast (and/or lunch, and/or dinner, and/or snack) comfortably from my recliner with few spills.
9. Having total control of our heating and cooling system. For years Gary has tortured me with his strong attempts to make our house feel like a meat locker. The thermostat has been in my control the past 9 months. I will miss that (although I think I can use Charley to manipulate some control of this device).
10. My fear factor. I'll miss watching the perplexed and scared look on some of my students and even coworkers as they fearfully anticipated my water breaking while they stood too close.
11. My alien husband.Gary has been so nice and thoughtful. I am waiting for the other to shoe to drop any minute now. I'm guessing it will all come to a head while we are stuck together in that small hospital room with him on the floor and me in the bed - no good pillows, horrible TV reception, a new crying baby. The perfect storm.
12. Being acceptably unacceptable Never in my life have I not been self-conscience about being able to fart and snore. There has been no comment from my husband regarding me being the most disgusting female ever known to man. Additionally, not feeling obligated to shave my legs. Along with the farting, snoring, and growing a human inside my stomach- it keeps Gary at bay. I can wallow alone in my own filth with no pressures or worries that I'll have to be on cue for any type of romancing.
13. Sleep. I'll miss having an excuse/reason to nap for hours and then still go to bed early. I'm pretty sure i will never sleep like this again.
14. Stupid human tricks. When I cough my belly button pokes out - it's a stupid human trick that I will personally miss. It has amused me daily and help take my mind off the fact that I pee myself every time I cough.
14. Stupid human tricks. When I cough my belly button pokes out - it's a stupid human trick that I will personally miss. It has amused me daily and help take my mind off the fact that I pee myself every time I cough.
15. Sympathy. Being able to use my pregnancy to guilt my students into behaving..."Hey, guys. I'm not feeling great today, so I'd really appreciate it if you could follow instructions without being told 56 times." Worked like a charm-- I'm shameless, but they can be relentless. It's every man for himself when the hormones are are on a wild roller coaster ride for every student AND teacher in the room.
16. Just being pregnant. I will miss sitting in the chair and watching my stomach flutter, bounce and roll as Charley shifts and squirms. It was one of those things only I could feel and, yeah it was a feel-like-a-woman moment that made pregnancy blissful.
All in all, I do have some reasons to miss being pregnant. However, I am sure that as soon as labor hits, the chaos ensues and this creature pops, slides or crawls out of me I will be focused on an entirely different stage in my life. I will become a mother and then I can create a whole new list, one in which i can rejoice in the ability to blame all my shortcomings on the fact that I am overwhelmed and preoccupied with the duties of raising a child.
I will be in touch...next topic...labor...also known as- time to throw your inhibitions and shyness out the door as your mommy-parts will be touched, stretched and looked upon by many...mmmm, I can't wait. I think I'll call the 'Girls Gone Wild' director, and convince him to call the camera men away from spring break in order to show the world what it looks like when a 27-year-old, married woman gets stoned, naked and sweaty while screaming and breathing hard. It's called CHILD BIRTH - and it can be yours on DVD for 19.99.
Keep in mind, until I became pregnant my baby knowledge was nonexistent. The whole process was (and still is) a guessing game to Gary and me. So when it came time to register for supplies and baby stuff, I would have been more successful at training a cat to play fetch.
First of all, thanks to all the replies regarding our baby girl's name. We are still undecided...i just can't commit! Gary and I have enjoyed your suggestions! I have finally made time to register. I am going this afternoon to Babies-R-Us with a couple of gals by my side. Now, one would think that a new mother would take along friends who are experienced mothers, but that'd be too easy and logical for me. Instead, I'm dragging along two pals who are not mothers. I am just hoping that one of them paid attention to all those kids she's babysat. The other one? Well she's just comic relief!
Honestly, I have no flipping clue what I'm doing today. I even tried to research this whole process. There is an amazing amount of people on the Internet who claim to know exactly what you must buy and they have all made a list - of course, not one single list is the same.
First of all one list claims I need a LAYETTE set? What the hell is that? It sounds like something you use while serving thanksgiving dinner. "Use the layette for your cranberry sauce." I swear Martha Stewart has a line of layettes for her cooking show.
The pacifiers have more options than smokers have cigarettes. I already anticipate the paci being an addiction I'll have to break a year (or seven) down the road - can we just skip to a patch or something?
How does something that can not even speak, get to have so many life altering decisions? I'm convinced it's a scam - people are just getting rich off the unstable, pregnant women.
Regardless though I have a plan to make this process work. Plan A) we have Leslie on speed dial. She is my only friend as of now to have children, so it's either her of my mom - and I am pretty damn sure she doesn't know what a layette set is, she is still trying to master online shopping. Plan B): I will follow some other pregnant woman around the store and just get what ever she gets. If I don't get arrested for stalking, then it should work out well. I just know we are going to part ways if she reaches for those cloth diapers.
So off I go to super baby land to buy things I will probably never use or know how to use. I still think Liquor Barn should have a baby shower registry too. I mean, we are committing ourselves to purchases that are useless until this baby is outside my body. Why not through in a little something for momma, too?
In the meantime, my quick baby/prego update: I am gigantic, I don't sleep at night. I have overcome the flu wherein I peed on myself every time I coughed and sneezed. I waddle because my entire pelvis hurts and feels like this baby is going to just fall out of me at any given time. I eat my weight in Tums. I live in the bathroom. I sweat like a pig while all others are huddling for warmth. I am certain my back will break at any moment. In conclusion this is the most humbling experience I've EVER encountered. Holy crap!I think God really lays it to a woman during pregnancy to ensure all vanity and selfishness are removed since in just a few months the center of my world will no longer have anything to do with myself - it will be some 7-8 lb human that cries, sleeps, eats, poops, and vomits while totally depending on me to tend to it's every.single.need. Well, it's a good thing I have experience with the adult version of that.
Here We Go
This was my first post announcing my pregnancy online. Today we would say it's 'Facebook official' so I am quite entertained at the notion I only had to make it Myspace official back in the day (as in just five years ago). Additionally, it reveals my total naiveté from the start - who knew that first ultrasound would happen like that?
If it's posted on Myspace it must be true. I have been trying to keep this under wraps for a few weeks, but since Gary already told the guys down at Eddie's Shell Station , I might as well post it on Myspace. I am 7 1/2 weeks pregnant. and...breathe...yikes.
So it's early, I know. I am scared to death. I know nothing about this whole prego/offspring thing...nothing. I have been waiting for someone to come and fine gary and me for attempting to parent with no training or prior knowledge - obviously, there are no experience or educational prerequisites to all of this. We are young, dumb,and clueless. Yet we are still permitted to be the biggest influence in the development of another human being? Yeah... Gary, I know, right? Terrifying.
These next few weeks are important and I hope Bean (that's what we call it) and I stay healthy. So far Bean is doing great. I saw its picture on Tuesday (hence the name) and heard its heart beat...pretty cool. However, I'll spare you all the mushy 'miracle of life' details and tell you what wasn't cool - the ultrasound. I had no idea.
With only television sitcoms as my guide (which is true for most of my life), I expected ultrasounds to simply involve me raising my shirt and having some goo spread over my blubber. Having someone rub all up on my fat rolls was enough to send me into a full blown panic attack, but what really goes down (literally) with the first ultrasound, uhhhhhh...no. No. This was no Rachel, ala Friends ultrasound. Television is a complete lie. After being told to undress, which commonly happens in the gyno's office, I was not privy to the next steps until I realized that ol' girl had lubed up and slapped a condom on a stick. And that said stick was not going to be swishing around my belly fat. Rather, with little warning I was violated by a camera-computer on wheels. So who knows, Gary and I might be the proud parents of a Canon Sureshot in 9 months? All I know is I could hardly enjoy the excitement of realizing my pregnancy because I wasn't sure if I needed to file a sexual assault report. Holy crap! I mean, there needs to be some sort education on this. Pick a ribbon color and devote a month to it! Future pregnant women need to know this will happen to them.
It is only fitting that complete and utter stupidity (on my part) accompany my journey to be a mom. I am worried and fascinated and hopeful. Just when I start to daydream about all the beautiful moments that await me, I am abruptly interrupted with the realization that Gary is in on this too. He will be able to mold, influence and teach this small, impressionable person - I just keep seeing Bart Simpson and Eric Cartman.
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