I love holiday stories...the craziness of all the family, the hustle and bustle of preparation, and the debacles that seem to ensue when you mash everybody into one house. This year is a little different for us. Baby #5 is due on Christmas day, and daddy is off saving the world. It's just me and 4 little boys...waiting on one to arrive...and praying for the safety of another. Obviously, there is no traveling on my part this year...but I still wanted to share one of my favorite Christmas stories.
Ghost of Christmas Past
I hope you and yours have a wonderful Christmas! Enjoy the hilarities of the family being together, and if you wouldn't mind, send up a couple prayers and thanks for all of those soldiers serving away from home this holiday season.
Sunday, December 25, 2011
Friday, December 23, 2011
Not Sure If We Made The Naughty Or Nice List
I'd like to pretend that my boys (and myself) are perfect little angels all the time...but we all know that is quite impossible and most assuredly far from the truth. We all have our moments; some of us have our days (and some people are just born with a stick up the unknown) but that doesn't mean we are destined to find coal in our stockings....does it??
I tend to find the things my kids say and do (for the most part) pretty funny. Honestly laughing at them gets me through the days...especially now that I have to be separated from my beloved glass of wine in the evenings! But will Santa see it the same way?
* my 3yo busted in on me while I was on the throne (pretty typical, actually), bent his little hiny toward me, giggled and said, "kiss the butt"
* while mini golfing with my four boys at the end of summer I actually told our 3 yo, "Don't touch other people's balls". Ok...maybe that could be a life's lesson.
* the 5yo about the 3yo who was currently throwing a tantrum, "He wears me out". I agree, dude!
* the 3yo came running down the hall to tattle on his 5yo brother, "TJ plugged me in the toilet!" I'm not really sure what went down or who was guilty of what...but I'm going to stick with "all's well that ends well".
* this summer when the youngest was still 2 years old, he would always tell me with a scowl and a gruff voice, "I bizzy" (aka...I'm busy) whenever I would ask or tell him to do something. It's just too hilarious to scold him...I'm sure we know where he learned that phrase anyway!
* we were leaving the orthopedic surgeon for my oldest son. He and the 5yo went to the bathroom quick before we left. The oldest comes out of the bathroom laughing (always a good sign) eager to relay what his little brother asked him. As the 5yo looked in the mirror while washing his hands he asked his bigger, wiser brother, "Does this dark hair make my butt look big?" Ha!! Daddy needs to come home! He is OBVIOUSLY hanging out with mommy too much!!
* with the nausea that accompanies early pregnancy, we tend to eat out more often than usual. My oldest saw a Taco John's commercial and came to relay to me what he wanted that night for supper. "Mom! Can we go out for chuepalupas?" Um...do you mean chalupas??! HA!!
* my 5yo has always been quite attached to his daddy. This fall he came up to me and with the most sincere tone stated, "If I was a superhero, I could use my super powers to help dad. he could use my superhero sword to fight the bad guys. But I'm not a superhero." And he hung his little head and walked away. Kind of breaks your heart.
* We were watching the football game. The Jets were playing and in all of the innocence of a little boy, my 5yo states that he is, "cheering for the Rockets"...you know because Big Jet on Little Einsteins is always the bad guy. Gotta love how kids see the world!
I tend to find the things my kids say and do (for the most part) pretty funny. Honestly laughing at them gets me through the days...especially now that I have to be separated from my beloved glass of wine in the evenings! But will Santa see it the same way?
* my 3yo busted in on me while I was on the throne (pretty typical, actually), bent his little hiny toward me, giggled and said, "kiss the butt"
* while mini golfing with my four boys at the end of summer I actually told our 3 yo, "Don't touch other people's balls". Ok...maybe that could be a life's lesson.
* the 5yo about the 3yo who was currently throwing a tantrum, "He wears me out". I agree, dude!
* the 3yo came running down the hall to tattle on his 5yo brother, "TJ plugged me in the toilet!" I'm not really sure what went down or who was guilty of what...but I'm going to stick with "all's well that ends well".
* this summer when the youngest was still 2 years old, he would always tell me with a scowl and a gruff voice, "I bizzy" (aka...I'm busy) whenever I would ask or tell him to do something. It's just too hilarious to scold him...I'm sure we know where he learned that phrase anyway!
* we were leaving the orthopedic surgeon for my oldest son. He and the 5yo went to the bathroom quick before we left. The oldest comes out of the bathroom laughing (always a good sign) eager to relay what his little brother asked him. As the 5yo looked in the mirror while washing his hands he asked his bigger, wiser brother, "Does this dark hair make my butt look big?" Ha!! Daddy needs to come home! He is OBVIOUSLY hanging out with mommy too much!!
* with the nausea that accompanies early pregnancy, we tend to eat out more often than usual. My oldest saw a Taco John's commercial and came to relay to me what he wanted that night for supper. "Mom! Can we go out for chuepalupas?" Um...do you mean chalupas??! HA!!
* my 5yo has always been quite attached to his daddy. This fall he came up to me and with the most sincere tone stated, "If I was a superhero, I could use my super powers to help dad. he could use my superhero sword to fight the bad guys. But I'm not a superhero." And he hung his little head and walked away. Kind of breaks your heart.
* We were watching the football game. The Jets were playing and in all of the innocence of a little boy, my 5yo states that he is, "cheering for the Rockets"...you know because Big Jet on Little Einsteins is always the bad guy. Gotta love how kids see the world!
Thursday, December 22, 2011
To Epidural or Not To Epidural? That Is The Question.
It's 3 days until my due date, but honestly, I probably won't have this baby for another week or so (I must have a very cozy womb...they are usually forced to leave!) Hubby won't be here for the birth. It's a decision we made together. His job right now is saving the world and taking care of his troops. I've got this end of things under control. However, with that said, I am slightly nervous about going into labor/delivery without him. He calms me...relaxes me...and knows not to say a word! Actually, by #5 we are a well-oiled machine. But he won't be in there with me, and that's where my problem starts.
I'm not sure how I'm going to handle the pain without him. His job is to rub whatever I need rubbing- usually my feet- until Dr says it's "go time". I can be bossy or snippity with him and know that he will love me tomorrow and not think any less of me. With two girlfriends subbing in for my hubby in the room with me, I'm going to be less comfortable bossing them around. So I'm a little concerned that I won't be able to relax and breathe my way through delivery.
Truth be told, I'm usually a "do-it-myself" kind of girl. The idea of an epidural has me freaking out...so I've never tried it. (Plus, I'm a self-proclaimed tough girl who doesn't like asking for help.) I need some solid, un-biased advice from the "been there, done that's" of the world. What do you think? Am I going to be brave enough to get the epidural? And do you think it's a good idea??
I'm not sure how I'm going to handle the pain without him. His job is to rub whatever I need rubbing- usually my feet- until Dr says it's "go time". I can be bossy or snippity with him and know that he will love me tomorrow and not think any less of me. With two girlfriends subbing in for my hubby in the room with me, I'm going to be less comfortable bossing them around. So I'm a little concerned that I won't be able to relax and breathe my way through delivery.
Truth be told, I'm usually a "do-it-myself" kind of girl. The idea of an epidural has me freaking out...so I've never tried it. (Plus, I'm a self-proclaimed tough girl who doesn't like asking for help.) I need some solid, un-biased advice from the "been there, done that's" of the world. What do you think? Am I going to be brave enough to get the epidural? And do you think it's a good idea??
Wednesday, December 21, 2011
I Feel Pretty, Oh, So Pretty, I Feel Pretty and Witty and Bright!
Actually, I don't find the pretty in the pregnant...at least not on myself. Honestly, I think OTHER pregnant ladies are adorable...maybe I'm too close to it to appreciate its beauty. But the truth of the matter is...to survive pregnancy, you better have a great sense of humor. Yeah, you're creating life, and it's a blessing and blah, blah, blah. The reality is...being pregnant is a hoot!
Case in point: every Dr appointment, we preggos are privileged to experience the task of peeing in a cup. The first trimester this is merely an unavoidable task on a checklist that the nurses diligently employ. In the second trimester, this task begins to get a little more complicated but still very do-able. Bring on the third trimester! This task has become virtually impossible. Not only do I get to partake of this event several times a month, but it truly is now a task that has become laughable. I would love to be a fly on the wall as I attempt this feat! Well into my 39th week, my arms can barely reach around my tummy to even position the cup in the area I believe to be my hoo-ha! And "seeing" what I'm doing is a laughable suggestion. I enter this weekly task hoping to just hit the cup with enough "goods" to appease the nurse without spilling, losing my balance, or peeing (too much) all over my hand.
Now...on to the current status of my once immaculately groomed nether regions! I haven't seen my yanna benieni in months...I have NO idea what her state of affairs looks like! Shaving my special place has become much less of a science than I would like it to be and more of a free-for-all. For all I know, I could have a patchwork design going on down there...hopefully delivery room nurses don't judge!
I have also been surprised to learn that I have become what is know to be a bad a**. I always wanted to be one of those super tough, edgy girls. Unfortunately, I missed the mark. Actually, the arse to which I'm referring has popped up...behind me. I discovered it in the mirror the other day staring back at me when I had the misfortune of trying to sneak a peak! I was shocked and horrified as, indeed, my bad a** was flashing me a fuller moon than I would care to admit. I'm SO glad my hubby is saving the world and isn't subject to my pandemic posterior problem!
Maternity apparel now resembles spandex...even the XL shirts I once thought I would never fit. Shirts are too short to cover the belly...and I don't even care. I'm considering buying myself some leg warmers and rockin' the complete 80's fitness instructor look! I think I could pull it off. It would be fun to try anyway. I actually quite enjoy the crazy looks I get from people!
Since there is really no way around the "changes" that come with pregnancy, I figure laughing about it eases the disappointment of realizing my body may never be the same. So I had my boys paint my toenails in "Trophy Wife"...I can't even see my toes let alone reach them, and I painted my finger nails in "Pedal to the Medal"...I'm planning on finishing out my last days as an over-stuffed heffalump in style!
Case in point: every Dr appointment, we preggos are privileged to experience the task of peeing in a cup. The first trimester this is merely an unavoidable task on a checklist that the nurses diligently employ. In the second trimester, this task begins to get a little more complicated but still very do-able. Bring on the third trimester! This task has become virtually impossible. Not only do I get to partake of this event several times a month, but it truly is now a task that has become laughable. I would love to be a fly on the wall as I attempt this feat! Well into my 39th week, my arms can barely reach around my tummy to even position the cup in the area I believe to be my hoo-ha! And "seeing" what I'm doing is a laughable suggestion. I enter this weekly task hoping to just hit the cup with enough "goods" to appease the nurse without spilling, losing my balance, or peeing (too much) all over my hand.
Now...on to the current status of my once immaculately groomed nether regions! I haven't seen my yanna benieni in months...I have NO idea what her state of affairs looks like! Shaving my special place has become much less of a science than I would like it to be and more of a free-for-all. For all I know, I could have a patchwork design going on down there...hopefully delivery room nurses don't judge!
I have also been surprised to learn that I have become what is know to be a bad a**. I always wanted to be one of those super tough, edgy girls. Unfortunately, I missed the mark. Actually, the arse to which I'm referring has popped up...behind me. I discovered it in the mirror the other day staring back at me when I had the misfortune of trying to sneak a peak! I was shocked and horrified as, indeed, my bad a** was flashing me a fuller moon than I would care to admit. I'm SO glad my hubby is saving the world and isn't subject to my pandemic posterior problem!
Maternity apparel now resembles spandex...even the XL shirts I once thought I would never fit. Shirts are too short to cover the belly...and I don't even care. I'm considering buying myself some leg warmers and rockin' the complete 80's fitness instructor look! I think I could pull it off. It would be fun to try anyway. I actually quite enjoy the crazy looks I get from people!
Since there is really no way around the "changes" that come with pregnancy, I figure laughing about it eases the disappointment of realizing my body may never be the same. So I had my boys paint my toenails in "Trophy Wife"...I can't even see my toes let alone reach them, and I painted my finger nails in "Pedal to the Medal"...I'm planning on finishing out my last days as an over-stuffed heffalump in style!
Thursday, December 15, 2011
Let's Talk About Sex Baby!
I've been married for quite a long time...12 years in fact. And I think one of the perks of marriage is sex. Come on, people...you have sex, too! 12 (ok...maybe a couple more years than that...shhh!) years of sex with the same person is actually a luxury...no weird surprises, no worries about him calling in the morning, and hey, I know what my man likes! With your spouse there aren't many unfortunate bedroom debacles, you're allowed and encouraged to try new things, and judgement is kept to the minimum.
With all of that said (and now that I've made you all SUPER uncomfortable), I want to address the issue of sex...during pregnancy. I don't think its an area, issue, or act of torture that should be breached. Basically the possibility should be completely off the table! If there is any dude reading this: trust me, she doesn't really want to, no it wasn't good for her, and yes, she really just wants a back rub! There is already a 3-ring circus going on up in my uterus...we don't need to "send in the clowns" too. If the baby moves the wrong way, there is a high possibility that I'm going to pee my pants...or you! And the idea of what my vagina actually has to do at the end of this pregnancy is reason enough to leave her the heck alone!
I find it ludicrous that sex is actually encouraged during pregnancy and doctor recommended once you reach the ever-so-pleasant status of "OVER DUE"! Ew...I'm big, awkward, sleep deprived and frankly, when pregnant, full of gas! Do you really, REALLY, want to "tap that a**?"! Yes, the boobs may look fantastic, but they aren't for you! These babies have a very important, and not so glamorous, job to look forward to. They just want to be left alone! Not to mention that I both feel and look like an overstuffed turkey. You can keep your "garnish" to yourself, please.
So even though I think sex during marriage is one of the most important things you can do together as a couple, I am 100% against "marital bonding" while in the midst of pregnancy. Good thing for my hubby, he is off saving the world! Honestly, he probably has more "opportunity" over there...but I highly discourage that kind of extracurricular activity. So...unfortunately for him whether at home or at war, if I'm pregnant there is a "no touching" rule in effect!
With all of that said (and now that I've made you all SUPER uncomfortable), I want to address the issue of sex...during pregnancy. I don't think its an area, issue, or act of torture that should be breached. Basically the possibility should be completely off the table! If there is any dude reading this: trust me, she doesn't really want to, no it wasn't good for her, and yes, she really just wants a back rub! There is already a 3-ring circus going on up in my uterus...we don't need to "send in the clowns" too. If the baby moves the wrong way, there is a high possibility that I'm going to pee my pants...or you! And the idea of what my vagina actually has to do at the end of this pregnancy is reason enough to leave her the heck alone!
I find it ludicrous that sex is actually encouraged during pregnancy and doctor recommended once you reach the ever-so-pleasant status of "OVER DUE"! Ew...I'm big, awkward, sleep deprived and frankly, when pregnant, full of gas! Do you really, REALLY, want to "tap that a**?"! Yes, the boobs may look fantastic, but they aren't for you! These babies have a very important, and not so glamorous, job to look forward to. They just want to be left alone! Not to mention that I both feel and look like an overstuffed turkey. You can keep your "garnish" to yourself, please.
So even though I think sex during marriage is one of the most important things you can do together as a couple, I am 100% against "marital bonding" while in the midst of pregnancy. Good thing for my hubby, he is off saving the world! Honestly, he probably has more "opportunity" over there...but I highly discourage that kind of extracurricular activity. So...unfortunately for him whether at home or at war, if I'm pregnant there is a "no touching" rule in effect!
Wednesday, December 14, 2011
The Princess and The Pea...Or Watermelon
I've been pretty candid in the past about my diva-esque bedtime rules. As a mama, sleep has an entirely different meaning to me than it did before having kids. It's the most coveted prize at the end of my days. Once you enter pregnancy, sleep (and food) becomes the only thing of which you think, focus, and search to find. You can't possibly understand until you are actually pregnant...can I get a collective nod from all the mamas out there...because I know you know what I'm talking about!
However, even though sleep is the desire of my heart, pregnancy and sleep don't always mix...kind of like parenting and partying. They just simply don't go together. Blame it on the blossoming body, the growing baby, or the "other issues" that accompany this "beautiful time"...but sleep isn't as simple and easy as it sounds. I've become super high maintenance and unreasonable and without hubby here to take the fall, I've had to endure alone.
My bedtime ritual is complex and exhausting at best. Per doctor's orders, I ingest one banana and 2 TUMS every night before bed in hopes of avoiding the cramping that takes over every night from the waist down. I didn't even know that the muscles in the feet could cramp, but they can and will, and they are most unforgiving! Even the under-worked muscles in my gluteus maximus cramp! I'm very certain I've never had cheeks quite so tight as when the cramp is in full force! However, with the ever-growing babe taking up all space (whether it was previously occupied by something or not), I suffer from some kind of reflux from the banana/TUMS/water bedtime snack causing me to now have to prop myself upright for half of the night in order to keep everything else down. So with 5-6 pillows propped around me, I attempt to drift into la-la land for some sweet relief.
Unfortunately, my unconscious self truly enjoys self-torture! I am prone to back-sleeping which is an unfortunate position to find oneself in the middle of the night without anyone to help roll me over! I am literally a beached whale at that point swaying back and forth hoping to gain enough momentum to roll myself off the bed. Sexy to watch, I'm sure!
And if all of that wasn't enough, pregnancy seems to make me...um...stinkier than normal. Babies give me gas! And not just quiet, girly toots (you know we all have them...just walk away and pretend it NEVER happened)...no, I'm full-on, able to challenge my boys, fumigating rooms, stinky! I have no idea what causes it...but at night it's in full force and I am stuck, literally, in the bed to suffer alone. Tormenting my hubby at this point in pregnancy is really the only joy in which I can revel. Misery loves company... the hubby should have to suffer through, too!
However, even though sleep is the desire of my heart, pregnancy and sleep don't always mix...kind of like parenting and partying. They just simply don't go together. Blame it on the blossoming body, the growing baby, or the "other issues" that accompany this "beautiful time"...but sleep isn't as simple and easy as it sounds. I've become super high maintenance and unreasonable and without hubby here to take the fall, I've had to endure alone.
My bedtime ritual is complex and exhausting at best. Per doctor's orders, I ingest one banana and 2 TUMS every night before bed in hopes of avoiding the cramping that takes over every night from the waist down. I didn't even know that the muscles in the feet could cramp, but they can and will, and they are most unforgiving! Even the under-worked muscles in my gluteus maximus cramp! I'm very certain I've never had cheeks quite so tight as when the cramp is in full force! However, with the ever-growing babe taking up all space (whether it was previously occupied by something or not), I suffer from some kind of reflux from the banana/TUMS/water bedtime snack causing me to now have to prop myself upright for half of the night in order to keep everything else down. So with 5-6 pillows propped around me, I attempt to drift into la-la land for some sweet relief.
Unfortunately, my unconscious self truly enjoys self-torture! I am prone to back-sleeping which is an unfortunate position to find oneself in the middle of the night without anyone to help roll me over! I am literally a beached whale at that point swaying back and forth hoping to gain enough momentum to roll myself off the bed. Sexy to watch, I'm sure!
And if all of that wasn't enough, pregnancy seems to make me...um...stinkier than normal. Babies give me gas! And not just quiet, girly toots (you know we all have them...just walk away and pretend it NEVER happened)...no, I'm full-on, able to challenge my boys, fumigating rooms, stinky! I have no idea what causes it...but at night it's in full force and I am stuck, literally, in the bed to suffer alone. Tormenting my hubby at this point in pregnancy is really the only joy in which I can revel. Misery loves company... the hubby should have to suffer through, too!
Tuesday, December 13, 2011
Holy Crap...What If It Is A Girl??!!
It doesn't take a rocket scientist to see a snapshot of my family and come to the conclusion that we are shootin' boys. With kiddo #4 I was certain I was carrying a little princess. However, when that teeny tiny peeny popped up on the ever-so-clear sonogram, I was, once again in my life, proven to be incorrect. Now I've just come to expect little dudes. Good thing I like little boys. Actually, I'm quite fond of all-things boy. I find humor in their weird, dirty, stinky ways. I find comfort in the fact that nothing (so far...everybody knock of wood!) is new to me anymore. I have this boy-thing completely figured out...for the most part (well, until my oldest boy becomes a young blossoming man, and then I may need to call in reinforcements!) We tackle, fart, wrestle, roll in dirt, put holes in the walls, run, scream, and have energy to spare. It's ALL I KNOW.
So even though I'm 99% sure I'm creating boy #5 as we speak...er type...there is the teeniest, tinniest, ever-so-small chance that maybe, just maybe, we made a girl. And it scares the hell out of me! We are leaving the sex a surprise...one that will eventually be revealed. It's only a matter of time. And let me tell you that from my experience, God has a much different sense of humor than we do. I learned this very clearly when a certain stick turned blue about 33 weeks ago!
Back to my panic-stricken state! I know nothing about girls! Ok...yes, I am a girl, but I didn't raise me. I was someone else's nightmare..um joy! I know dude...and I know it well! I am dumbfounded by the idiosyncrasies of girls, scared by their unusual emotional fluctuations, and secretly enamored with the idea of their cute clothes (don't tell the hubby). But that doesn't mean I would know what to do with one! Yeah I could dress one super adorable...but that is the extent of my knowledge!! I'm runnin' scared people!
What on earth am I going to do if the doctor indeed says, "It's a girl"???? I'm the queen of my castle, and I like it that way. In no way, shape, or form am I ready to be dethroned by a tiny princess. There are ZERO granddaughters on either side of our family. Everybody shoots dudes!! So the grandmas are a little too eager for a baby sans penis. And the hubby has made it very clear that his heart's desire is a daughter to which he can be wrapped around her little pinkie! If I fail in producing a weenie-whacker clad baby and indeed pop-out a mini yanna benieni clad chica, I will be dethroned and crown removed before my legs are even out of the stirrups!!
Not only will I be forced to deal with my imminent removal from the throne, I will also have to figure out how on earth to navigate the world of girl. I'm clueless! I'm going to need books, advice, suggestions...and clothes! Like I said...for almost 13 years all I've known is BOY. My house screams boy...clothes, blankets, toys, schedules, activities! I'm nervous...at some point I'm pretty sure this baby is going to vacate the premises, and the hint of possibility that this could maybe be a girl...has me scared to death!
So even though I'm 99% sure I'm creating boy #5 as we speak...er type...there is the teeniest, tinniest, ever-so-small chance that maybe, just maybe, we made a girl. And it scares the hell out of me! We are leaving the sex a surprise...one that will eventually be revealed. It's only a matter of time. And let me tell you that from my experience, God has a much different sense of humor than we do. I learned this very clearly when a certain stick turned blue about 33 weeks ago!
Back to my panic-stricken state! I know nothing about girls! Ok...yes, I am a girl, but I didn't raise me. I was someone else's nightmare..um joy! I know dude...and I know it well! I am dumbfounded by the idiosyncrasies of girls, scared by their unusual emotional fluctuations, and secretly enamored with the idea of their cute clothes (don't tell the hubby). But that doesn't mean I would know what to do with one! Yeah I could dress one super adorable...but that is the extent of my knowledge!! I'm runnin' scared people!
What on earth am I going to do if the doctor indeed says, "It's a girl"???? I'm the queen of my castle, and I like it that way. In no way, shape, or form am I ready to be dethroned by a tiny princess. There are ZERO granddaughters on either side of our family. Everybody shoots dudes!! So the grandmas are a little too eager for a baby sans penis. And the hubby has made it very clear that his heart's desire is a daughter to which he can be wrapped around her little pinkie! If I fail in producing a weenie-whacker clad baby and indeed pop-out a mini yanna benieni clad chica, I will be dethroned and crown removed before my legs are even out of the stirrups!!
Not only will I be forced to deal with my imminent removal from the throne, I will also have to figure out how on earth to navigate the world of girl. I'm clueless! I'm going to need books, advice, suggestions...and clothes! Like I said...for almost 13 years all I've known is BOY. My house screams boy...clothes, blankets, toys, schedules, activities! I'm nervous...at some point I'm pretty sure this baby is going to vacate the premises, and the hint of possibility that this could maybe be a girl...has me scared to death!
Monday, December 12, 2011
Panty Raid
It's no secret, I'm gigantic when I'm pregnant. Since I am mastering my 5th pregnancy, I am already aware of this unfortunate information and don't really appreciate being reminded of my ever-growing stature by each individual that has the misfortune of seeing me waddle through my day. For future reference, preggo ladies don't like to be reminded that they "look like they are going to pop", "are big enough to be carrying twins", or "will never make their due date" (by the way, I always go 9-10 days over...shut-up!) If there was some major medical calamity with my current status, I'm sure my OB/GYN would inform me. However, snapping at the random passer-by as they cautiously pass my way for fear that my water may instantaneously burst...is usually frowned upon in our society. So I generally smile, chuckle along, and wish them hemorrhoids, zits, and cellulite quietly in the confines of my own head. But, truth be told, at 38 weeks I'm starting to get somewhat annoyed by this behavior.
With that said, one would think that no individuals or place would be as sensitive to the needs, emotions, and sensitivities of a pregnant lady as the OB's office! I, however, have been proven wrong. At my appointment following Thanksgiving I was greeted with the wide-eyed stare of the nurse as she commented on how huge I have gotten. Awesome! Then I am asked to step on the scale only to watch it quiver under my enormity and blink a green horrible number at me. More awesome! Obviously at this stage of the game I am going to add a pound or 2.....or 8 or 9...whatever! But it should just be quietly written in my chart without comment.
Now, I should also mention that with each of my pregnancies I have suffered from a personal problem...one that tends to pinch, pull, chafe, rub, squeeze and generally cause untold discomfort and irritation. This "problem" to which I elude....is my reluctance to accept the fact that as my tummy grows so do "other" areas...requiring the purchase and use of larger panties! This is a battle to which I usually refuse to admit defeat wearing my regular-person panties until the end. Thongs, by the way, are not meant to be stretched in such a manner. Ouch!
However, after the barrage of well-meaning "compliments" regarding my apparent massiveness, the scary-as-hell weight that I must now claim to be my own, and my nurse's shock and awe as I rounded the corner of the OB's office...I decided to admit defeat. I hauled my "wide load" to the maternity store and bought myself some large...yes LARGE...preggo undies in which to encase my ever-growing posterior.
If you can't beat 'em...join 'em. I will say, however, that I will never again underestimate the power of a properly fitting pair of panties. Ahhhhh!
With that said, one would think that no individuals or place would be as sensitive to the needs, emotions, and sensitivities of a pregnant lady as the OB's office! I, however, have been proven wrong. At my appointment following Thanksgiving I was greeted with the wide-eyed stare of the nurse as she commented on how huge I have gotten. Awesome! Then I am asked to step on the scale only to watch it quiver under my enormity and blink a green horrible number at me. More awesome! Obviously at this stage of the game I am going to add a pound or 2.....or 8 or 9...whatever! But it should just be quietly written in my chart without comment.
Now, I should also mention that with each of my pregnancies I have suffered from a personal problem...one that tends to pinch, pull, chafe, rub, squeeze and generally cause untold discomfort and irritation. This "problem" to which I elude....is my reluctance to accept the fact that as my tummy grows so do "other" areas...requiring the purchase and use of larger panties! This is a battle to which I usually refuse to admit defeat wearing my regular-person panties until the end. Thongs, by the way, are not meant to be stretched in such a manner. Ouch!
However, after the barrage of well-meaning "compliments" regarding my apparent massiveness, the scary-as-hell weight that I must now claim to be my own, and my nurse's shock and awe as I rounded the corner of the OB's office...I decided to admit defeat. I hauled my "wide load" to the maternity store and bought myself some large...yes LARGE...preggo undies in which to encase my ever-growing posterior.
If you can't beat 'em...join 'em. I will say, however, that I will never again underestimate the power of a properly fitting pair of panties. Ahhhhh!
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