Pregnancy Stole My Cool

Can’t Hack It

Posted on Apr 12, 2014 in Adulthood Stole My Cool, My Kid Stole My Cool, Pregnancy Stole My Cool

Can’t Hack It 1

I spent last weekend in San Francisco visiting friends.  Non-mom friends.  For the first time, the distinction between “mom” friends and “non-mom” friends became important; for the first time, I realized that though I like to think I can hang out with my non-mom friends just like I used to, I’m severely disillusioned.  Nope.  As a 33 weeks pregnant mom of a two-year-old, I just can’t hack it anymore.

***

The week after moving back to southern California, a few non-mom friends happened to be in town.  After exchanging emails to make dinner plans, one friend suggested a place and time.

8:30.

I balked. 8:30!? As in, PM!?  But that’s jammy time!  I hastily wrote my friends back, and after claiming jet-lag, asked if we could push dinner up to 8:00.  I really meant 5:30, but figured that might be pushing it for my friends whose lives don’t currently revolve around potty-training and early morning prenatal yoga.  So 8:00 it was.  The evening of our dinner arrived, and after chugging boatloads of coffee I made my way to the restaurant, praying I wouldn’t fall asleep face-first into my mocktail.*

I managed to rally, but I got lucky that time.  So let’s examine last weekend, when a silly pregnant woman attempted to recapture her pre-children days.

Friday night my girlfriends and I got together at a charming little Italian restaurant.  We enjoyed a delicious dinner and then lingered over wine.  (Well, everyone else lingered over wine.  I lingered over water.)  I love these girls.  I love catching up with them.  I love lingering over wine when I am actually allowed to drink wine.  But how does a sleep-deprived, third-trimester pregnant woman stay awake past 9:00 in a dim restaurant after eating copious amounts of carbs and cured meat?  It’s damn near impossible, I tell you.

Everyone seemed a little spent after a long week, and decided to disperse after dinner rather than heading out somewhere else.  Thank the good Lord – I could go to bed!  Except I couldn’t.  My friend’s neighbor fell asleep with her television blasting.  My über-sensitivity to noise meant I didn’t actually fall asleep until around 2:30 A.M.  Twas not too long ago that staying up till 2:30 was – if not the norm – not a big deal.  But now, I thought I was going to die.  No, really.  With each passing hour I could feel what little energy I possessed seeping from my body, never to return.  There’s no recovering from a 2:30 AM bedtime anymore.

I dragged myself off of my air mattress at 9:30 the next morning feeling terribly hungover, which is weird since I hadn’t had anything to drink the very night before.**  It’s a sad, sad day when your body starts to feel hungover without any of the fun drinking part the night before.  I slabbed on gobs and gobs of concealer to no avail.  I would have to face the day not only feeling hungover, but looking it.  My friends and I met up for brunch at noon.***  After devouring a massive burger, a few of us set off to window-shop.  It was a beautiful day, and after popping in and out of shops we retired to a rooftop bar where my friends enjoyed margaritas, and I shoveled chips and guac into my face.

And then my eyes started drooping.  It was around 4:00, and this was my second day in a row without a nap.  This was a dire situation.  How was I going to last through dinner?  And after, when my friends would certainly head to a bar or something.  Keep it together! I berated myself. You are still young!

Au contraire, my body told me.

“Are you okay?” one of my friends asked, noticing my glazed-over expression.  “Are you sure you don’t mind us drinking?” another asked, mistaking my exhaustion for boredom, or perhaps annoyance.

“I’m fine!” I insisted.  Truly, I did not mind my friends enjoying their beverages.  It was a beautiful day! I was in great company! Life was good!  I was just so. dang. tired.

Gorgeous San Francisco day

Glorious San Francisco day

After a couple of hours enjoying the gorgeous weather outdoors, we walked to dinner.  (Because obviously when visiting a city like San Francisco, your trip should revolve around eating and drinking.)  We settled in and my friends ordered their craft beers.

“Do you have any non-alcoholic beers?” I asked the waiter.  He stared at me in disbelief.  I had obviously offended him.  I rephrased my question.  “Um, do you have any non-alcoholic anything?”

The waiter brought me my Arnold Palmer, and that’s when I mentally checked out.  I’m pretty sure we did not all sit in silence for the duration of the meal – but hell if I can remember what we talked about.  I picked at my meal (duck carbonara) – lifting my fork to my mouth was simply too tasking.  You know something is off when a pregnant woman boxes up the majority of her dish to go.  Especially when that dish contains bacon.

After dinner the pack of us went a few doors down to a bar that was showing one of the Final Four games.  My friend Jessica’s boyfriend was coming to join us.  We debated what to do next.  Stay at the bar and watch the game? Go to a different bar?  Head to Jessica’s apartment and hang out there?  “I’m up for anything!” I exclaimed, as convincingly as possible.  Ultimately, the others decided to go home.  Once again the gods had smiled upon me – I could go to bed. (This night at a blissfully quiet Airbnb.)  It was 8:00.

As we piled into the boyfriend’s car and all headed to our respective homes/hotels, I had a thought.  Maybe it’s not just me – a pregnant mom – that can’t hack it.  Maybe as my friends approach and enter their 30s – balancing more demanding careers and personal relationships than in our early 20s – they can’t hack it either?

I smiled at this thought; I’m not alone! So here’s my proposal: Let’s all drop the facade.  Forget the trendy restaurants, the cool bars.  Let’s not even pretend we want to be there.  Next time, let’s just sit around in our sweats and order take-out and go to bed at 9:00.  Sound good?

 

*I did not actually chug boatloads of coffee.  I wish I could have, but alas, caffeine is just one thing I’m supposed to have “in moderation” or whatever.  On another note, if you have happened to run into me recently or plan on seeing me soon, I apologize for my crankiness.

**For you critics who read that and think, “What is she complaining about! That’s seven hours of sleep!”, factor in hourly wakings to pee.  And then be thankful your bladder is still intact.

*** That’s another thing.  No meal till noon?  Dinner at 8:00PM?  Who eats at these ridiculous hours? Certainly not pregnant women.  Certainly not moms of toddlers who have probably developed a routine of eating with their children, which is about every 2-3 hours beginning at 7:30 AM if your child is a bottomless pit like mine.  There is a lesson here: When spending time with non-mom friends, pack snacks.

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New Zealand, Part 1: Bananagate.

Posted on Mar 11, 2014 in Pregnancy Stole My Cool, Travel Traumas

New Zealand, Part 1: Bananagate. 4

New Zealand.  I have to blog about my trip to New Zealand, even though it was two months ago.  My memory seems to be diminishing with each passing day of this pregnancy, so it’s imperative I document this trip now.  You know, so when I make our travel scrapbook 10 years from now I’ll actually have a record of where we went and what we did. You guys, New Zealand is stunning.  Gorgeous beyond belief.  I knew NZ was one of those places Damon and I had to visit while we were living in Japan, but I wasn’t all that sure why.  Because it’s pretty?  Because Lord of the Rings was filmed there?  I mean, a lot of places are pretty, and I don’t really care about Lord of the Rings.  But still, for no particular reason other than vague praise from fellow travelers, NZ was on our travel bucket-list.  And thank goodness it was. Perhaps we didn’t really know what to expect from our trip because it’s probably hard for most people – including myself – to articulate how incredible this place is.  Damon, Elisabeth, and I flew into Christchurch and spent 11 days traveling the South Island by car, spending one or two nights in a town before moving on to our next destination.  Even with 11 days, we only traversed the southern half of the South Island, but every day brought a different experience.  By no means am I a nature girl, yet I was rendered speechless by each beach, lake, mountain, glacier, waterfall, what-have-you we saw.  It was all magnificent. We’d be driving along, admiring one landscape – say,  rolling green hills dotted with sheep – turn a corner and be struck by a completely different, but equally stunning view, perhaps a glassy lake in the most brilliant turquoise color you’ve ever seen, or snow-capped mountains against a perfectly blue sky.  Even when it rained (which it did, a lot) it was still crazy beautiful.     We took our trip in early January, summer in NZ and therefore the tourism high season, yet there...

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The Big Reveal

Posted on Jan 26, 2014 in My Kid Stole My Cool, Pregnancy Stole My Cool

Hello!  It’s been almost a month, but I’m back! What a month it’s been.  After wrapping up the holidays, Damon, Elisabeth, and I said Sayonara, Japan! and hopped over to New Zealand for an almost 2-week vacation in what can only be described as one of the most beautiful places I’ve ever traveled.  But more on that in an upcoming post. After pausing real life for those two weeks, Damon and I had major catch up to do when we returned home.  One thing that included – our baby’s anatomy scan!  (Read: Gender Reveal.) It’s funny – when I was pregnant with Elisabeth, the weeks leading up to the gender reveal crept by.  During that first pregnancy, every decision felt monumental.  I felt like I couldn’t really begin planning for the baby until I knew its sex.  Pink bedding or blue bedding?  Hair bows or bow ties?  Diana Jr. or Damon Jr.? Second time around, I experienced none of that anxiety.  Perhaps because my circumstances are vastly different this time around.  I’ll be having the baby in California while living with my parents during Damon’s deployment.  (More on that in an upcoming post also.)  Boy or girl, it’s not like I have a nursery to decorate.  And boy or girl, the baby is going to get stuck with Elisabeth’s hand-me-down gear no matter what.  This time around, I don’t have to spend 10,000 hours researching car seats and cribs.  And this time around, finding out the gender just didn’t carry the same weight as it did last pregnancy. But of course, I couldn’t help but think about it.  The weeks leading up to the reveal brought the inevitable, “What are you hoping for?” question from friends, and my inevitable, “I don’t care, as long as it’s healthy,” answer.  Which was true.  Because really, boys and girls each have their pros and cons.  Let’s review. (Be aware, these are mass generalizations.  Just go with it.) Girls:  I am the oldest and only daughter.  I have two younger brothers, Will and Jamie.  So I speak from experience when I say little...

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Confessions of a Pregnant Mom

Posted on Dec 12, 2013 in Pregnancy Stole My Cool

Confessions of a Pregnant Mom 2

Friends, my posting here has been sporadic at best.  Sure, life has been busy.  My husband was deployed.  I have a lot on my plate.  Blogging takes a back seat.  Blah, blah, blah. The real reason I haven’t been blogging frequently?  I’m pregnant.  And in case you’ve never been pregnant before, I’m here to tell you, it’s hard.  And get this, it’s way harder the second time around, when you already have a little Tasmanian Devil to chase after all day. Don’t get me wrong – my husband and I are overjoyed about the soon-to-be addition to our family.  Babies!  Woohoo!  I love babies! But I emphatically do not love pregnancy.  And I’m highly suspicious of women who say they do.  (You should be, too.  They’re probably liars.)  That first trimester – kill me.  The nausea, the fatigue, the general feeling of not wanting to do anything ever except hide under your covers all day and night.  Who’s with me? During my first pregnancy, I had terrible nausea 24-7 for the entire first trimester.  Luckily, I worked from home, meaning I could stay in my PJs until whatever hour I wanted, and then whenever I felt like I was absolutely going to die, I could just crawl to the couch and lie there eating Saltines to my heart’s (and stomach’s) content. This time around, the nausea was not as terrible, nor did it last as long.  Thank the good Lord!  But the exhaustion was so much worse.  And it’s Elisabeth’s fault.  I mean, I love her to death, but she is so freakin’ demanding.  Can you believe she still expected me to get up at 6:00 AM with her!? During the 1st trimester!?  Criminal, I say! All this to say, I was basically in a semi-conscious state for the past three months, and did not possess the energy to even type a simple blog.  I also reached new lows of motherhood.  Like, “Call CPS, This Woman is Unfit to Parent” lows.  I should probably keep this to myself, but what fun what that be? So here you have it,...

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The Pretty, Pretty Princess

Posted on Jul 30, 2013 in Pregnancy Stole My Cool

The Pretty, Pretty Princess 0

Not gonna lie – I totally got sucked into the Royal Baby Watch.  So when Baby George was born last week, and Kate and William made their first appearance on the hospital steps as a family of three, I got giddy.  How cute did they look?  So cute.  …Maybe too cute? After leaving the hospital, a bunch of idiotic commentators who have apparently never seen a woman after giving birth seemed shocked – just shocked! – at Kate’s belly.  Some even deemed it unsightly.  What the heck, people?  First of all, stop hating on the hormonal new mom.  How rude.  Second of all, were we looking at the same princess? Kate looked freakin’ awesome!  …Maybe too awesome?  Seriously – who looks that fantastic 24 hours after having a baby!? I like Kate Middleton.  Or rather, I like the image of her that is portrayed in the media.  Though I’d probably rather head out for a night on the town with Pippa, Kate seems just lovely.  She has a great fashion sense, and she seems down-to-earth.  (Heck, she wears her gorgeous designer outfits more than once!) So relatable. But then she goes and has a baby, and turns up one day later looking like this: COME ON, Kate!  That’s just not right. I mean, good for her for looking Vogue-cover worthy a day after labor.  I’m just not entirely convinced she actually gave birth; Prince George may be an imposter baby.  I have a hard time believing that anyone – even Kate Middleton – looks that great so soon after delivering a baby.  Sure, I get that she is a princess and probably had a team of stylists that prepped her for her first post-baby public appearance, but still.  Is she a magic princess?  A magic princess who shows no signs of physical exhaustion or pain? When I was discharged from the hospital after having Elisabeth, I was wrecked.  After being awake for some ungodly amount of time (thanks, Elisabeth, for the 21 hours of labor), the next two nights in the hospital were anything but restful.  I remember doctors...

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Why I Love Not Being Pregnant

Posted on Jan 2, 2012 in Adulthood Stole My Cool, Pregnancy Stole My Cool

6 weeks ago I went through this.  6 weeks ago little Elisabeth Lucy came into the world.  6 weeks ago my pregnancy was OVER! 6 weeks is a not insignificant amount of time.  Yet I still find myself, on a fairly regular basis, thinking, “Wow.  I love not being pregnant.”  When I open the medicine cabinet and see the Tums bottle gathering dust, I think it.  When I slip on a pair of pants without an elastic band, I think it.  When I climb a flight of stairs without breaking into a sweat, I think it. So in that spirit, here is my list of Top 10 Reasons I Love Not Being Pregnant: 10) I can sleep on my back and my stomach.  I don’t actually sleep on either, but I like that I have the option. 9) For the first time since moving into our new condo, I fit comfortably into my stall shower. 8) As suddenly as it appeared, my heartburn disappeared.  Miraculous! 7) I am no longer resigned to the elliptical at the gym.  I see running in my future.  And kickboxing.  And power yoga.  And if I’m feeling saucy, maybe even… Zumba! 6) My legs no longer resemble Bigfoot’s.  I don’t believe No Shave November was intended for women, but shaving my legs became an impractical and somewhat dangerous undertaking as pregnancy wore on.  As my belly grew, so did my leg hair.  TMI?  Sorry. 5) I am saving loads of money not having to buy toilet paper every other day.  Not peeing every 45 minutes has major monetary advantages. 4) I can wear my pretty, fun shoes again.  OK, I still wore them while pregnant, but it hurt.  Swollen feet + strappy sandals and high heels don’t mix. 3) Wine. 2) I have not once gotten stuck in the garage between the car and the trash cans.  Yes, that happened. 1) (Drumroll please) I get to cuddle and play with and love on the cutest little baby girl*.  (Awwwwww).  It’s INFINITELY better than have her play soccer in my stomach every time I try...

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