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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We Do Not Negotiate with Toddlers

Posted on Mar 16, 2014 in My Kid Stole My Cool

We Do Not Negotiate with Toddlers 1

We do not negotiate with toddlers. I wish this were true.  But we do negotiate with toddlers.  At least I do.  All day…  Every day…  Go ahead and file this under, “Things I thought I’d never do as a parent.” -Sigh- Wouldn’t it be great to take a hard-line with these obstinate little ones? “Eat your vegetables because I said so.” “Put on your pants because it’s cold outside.” “Go to sleep because you need sleep to live.” Done and done.  If only it were that easy.  If only the toddlers would respond to logic and reason. But no.  Toddlers don’t respond to logic and reason because they’re not logical or reasonable.  They’re two; they respond to cookies and toys.  Either that or they’re manipulative little geniuses who know how to get exactly what they want  Maybe it’s both.  So instead we parents (or just me?) endlessly cajole, bargain, and outright bribe.  I didn’t notice my shameful behavior at first.  Then one day I realized almost every conversation with my 2-year-old involved some sort of “If…Then” statement. “Eat your vegetables,” became, “If you eat your vegetables, you can have more pasta.” “Put on your pants,” became, “If you don’t put on your pants, then we can’t go outside,” which became, “If you put on your pants, we can watch Elmo when we come back inside.”  When even Elmo didn’t work, it became, “Here’s my iPhone.  Look at pictures while I put on your pants.”  (For some reason, Elisabeth was vehemently anti-pants for a while.) When did every interaction with my child become a negotiation?  When will it stop!? I thought I’d be tougher.  I thought I would weather any tantrum and firmly hold my ground.  Eventually my toddler would listen to me and respect me, simply because I know what’s best. But holy cow – have you ever spent 30 FREAKING MINUTES trying to clothe a screaming, flailing child?  Or 30 minutes doing ANYTHING that should take 2 minutes, but for the innate need of these little people to assert total domination over you?  (I suppose it’s more PC...

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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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Sayonara, Japan

Posted on Feb 27, 2014 in It's the Navy Life, Travel Traumas

Sayonara, Japan 6

A little over a week ago, Elisabeth and I boarded a flight from Narita to LAX.  This was our third NRT –> LAX, but likely our last.  At least for a long while.  Elisabeth and I are officially CONUS residents again, living in California for the next several months until Damon joins us and we move to Washington, DC. I don’t believe I’ve entirely updated this blog on our current situation, so here’s the short version: I’m pregnant (duh).  Damon is currently in Nevada participating in a major training exercise for the next several weeks.  When he returns to Japan, he will be doing work-ups for deployment.  If you don’t know what any of that means, that’s okay, I don’t really either.  Basically, he’ll be really, really busy and gone a lot.  And ultimately, he’ll deploy again.  All before the baby is set to arrive. Given his timeline and my due date, we decided the best decision for me was to move back with my family in California to have the baby and wait out the deployment.  So here I am. It was strange leaving Japan – and the Atsugi community – so many months before I had previously planned.  There were so many things on my bucket list left undone, and time I had counted on with friends that I had to sacrifice.  But ultimately, I was ready to move; I desperately needed an In-N-Out burger.  I lived overseas for 22 months, which hardly sounds like any time at all.  But since graduating college in 2007, that is actually the longest I’ve ever lived anywhere.  Crazy, right? If I’m being honest, I didn’t love Japan.  That’s not to say I disliked it – not at all!  It’s just that I never felt 100% comfortable in the culture.  Part of that is my own fault.  Before moving, I assumed I would fully immerse myself in the Japanese culture, and frankly, I didn’t.  When we moved, Elisabeth was five months old.  I struggled – more than I thought I would – with balancing parenting a baby (and then toddler) and...

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GIVEAWAY: Origami Owl

Posted on Feb 8, 2014 in Uncategorized

GIVEAWAY: Origami Owl 3

Hey Friends. Guess what? It snowed today. A lot.  Actually, it’s still snowing.  All the good parents of Atsugi took their kids out to play in the winter wonderland, while I was like, “Sorry, Kid.  It’s too damn cold.”  I enjoyed an indoor day, warm and dry, while – miracle of all miracles – Elisabeth napped for THREE HOURS.  I think I win this snow day. I’m guessing my U.S. readers know something about cold right now. Except the Californians. I hate you guys sometimes. But for everyone else who is stuck in freezing misery, I have something that might lift your spirits.  Free stuff! That’s right – I’m doing my first giveaway!  My friend Michelle is an independent designer for the jewelry line Origami Owl.  She has graciously offered one of my readers the beautiful silver locket pictured below. Perfect for Valentine’s Day, right?! Ok, given that it’s already February 8th, you probably won’t receive it by Valentine’s day, but perfect for adding a little cheer into this endless, dreadful winter, right?! Mommas, this can be a well-deserved gift to yourself.  Fellas, this could be a belated Valentine’s day gift after you either forget/screw up the actual gift you give your lady.  Either way, anyone can and should enter by doing the following. 1) “Like” My Kid Stole My Cool on Facebook 2) Follow @DianaLoveless1 on Twitter  (Yes I tweet.  I can hardly believe it myself.) 3) “Like” Michelle’s Origami Owl page on Facebook 4) Comment directly on this blog post telling me the best Valentine’s Day gift is you’ve ever been given.  Uh, I can’t actually answer that, so feel free to tell me the worst Valentine’s Day gift you’ve ever been given. Or gifted to someone else! That’s much more fun… Each of the above will get you one entry, meaning you have the chance to enter multiple times!  And if you want to check out more of Michelle’s merchandise, check out her website! The winner will be announced on February 14th.  Good luck!   P.S. Damon eventually took Elisabeth out in the snow so she...

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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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