The Fabulous Life of Me

My husband always *gets* Thanksgiving. It’s an important holiday in his family and he loves to go home for the few days, see old friends and share an intimate turkey dinner with 45 of his closest cousins.

Because I’m not a sports fan and its hard to develop a close relationship with his extended family and high school buddies when I see them once a year, I’m not a huge fan of returning to the Midwest. This year, I planned ahead with my single girlfriends that was only slightly derailed with an unexpected pregnancy.

Tomorrow, I’ll be sitting in a business class seat to Europe while my husband packs to take our daughter to Cleveland. I’m so excited not just for my trip, where I have essentially nothing planned except exploring the city, but also for my husband.

I know my daughter is blessed to have such a great dad comfortable and excited to travel alone with her (of course once she arrives, I doubt her feet will even touch the ground). He’s also a big proponent of me traveling comfortably and enjoying myself on essentially my last hurrah. I suppose I should cut him more slack when he wants to watch football at home or grab a beer with the guys.

So despite all of the baggage and nonsense in my life, and there is plenty, I am going to indulge on my true honest to goodness real vacation and not think about naps (except mine), wet diapers (except when I have a leaky sneeze), catering to anyone (except my girlfriends), eating schedules (except my and my friend’s dietary restrictions), and well…you get the point.

Happy Go Lucky

My sister has told me that I am one of the more positive upbeat people she knows. Really? Years ago I had self diagnosed myself with a mild case of depression and bipolar disorder with a slight case of ADD. Was it the result of reading too many psychology books or wanting to explain my mood swings?

It’s true, I can be positive and optimistic for other people, but when it comes to me, I can rationalize the positive and think of something on an empirical level but my emotions don’t always follow.

I look back on my life pre-husband and *ALL* of the foolish choices I made when it came to men, and there were many. I’m embarrassed that I let myself be so used, that I put myself out there in vulnerable and compromising positions, that I traded sex for emotional intimacy, that I acted, in hindsight, pathetic. Multiple Times. I’m not proud of where I was, and at times I was okay with the compromises I made, because it was the best available option and brought me closer to what I wanted at that moment. I guess that’s part of the whole growing-up, that’s-where-I-was-at-that-time process.

And I am sure all of the assholes who crossed into my earlier life helped shape me into who I am and made me appreciate the real thing when he came along. I don’t know why, but lately I’ve been flashing back to memories of laying beside a guy in bed and snuggling slightly, putting out feelers to see if he was interested in intimacy, waiting for a response. Frustrating. I wish I could go back and tell that girl that I once was, “it doesn’t matter. This guy isn’t worth it. He’s playing games and the more you indulge him in the games, the more he’ll play and the shittier you will feel.”

It’s all in the past and please g-d I won’t have to be in that dating/ courting situation again. I should be happy that I was naive enough not to know any better and blah blah blah.

Stigmas

When I started this blog, I wasn’t sure what I wanted to accomplish or with whom I wanted to share it. I kept it anonymous, in the sense that I only told less than a handful of people the address so I could be more honest and perhaps serve as a catharsis.

I wanted to feel sexy and desired and maintain an identity distinct from my daughter. Posts about my body and masturbating tended to draw the most readers so I continued with them.

As I joined a new blog site and another yahoo group. I see all of these moms with blogs, most of whom would be comfortable telling their mother in law about the site. I’m just not there yet. But, when I see them do giveaways or review products or generate money from advertising, that jealous competitive nature in me emerges.

I wrote to one manufacturer who held a conference for us NYC Mom Bloggers who offered to donate toys for review or online sweepstakes/giveaways (I couldn’t attend the conference) and realized that the company may not want to be affiliated with a site called Milf Alert and an author who discusses vibrators and secret crushes. I guess its a small trade off.

i suppose if I really really cared, I could start another blog but enough is enough. One of the more important lessons that I am learning as a mom is that I cannot, nor do I have to, do it all.
(I even yelled this at my dishwasher repairman when he insisted I lock up my dog while I was feeding my daughter and talking to my sister internationally.)

Off to my shrink to discuss more.

Gift Guide

Tis the season to be giving. With the recession in full swing, I suppose I should curb my spending, but like my inner child, I love presents and surprises, although I will do just about anything to find out the details of a surprise before the big moment. I also love giving great gifts that the recipient enjoys opening and using.

My husband asked if we were exchanging presents this year. Given that we had to buy a new appliance and are in the market for a new video camera (any suggestions anyone??) and I am going out of town on a girls trip over Thanksgiving, he pretty much nixed the idea.

However, I’m desperate to buy him a Pucci tie. I saw one recently and thought it was so incredibly handsome. Although, I know my husband is impossibly, shall we saw selective, about clothes and ties, I’m reluctant to buy him one that he will never wear. I’ve tried to ask him if he would like one, but he is anti-presents and doesn’t want me to spend “our” money. I suppose I could buy one at a store with a liberal return policy…but that probably means paying retail.

I wanted to send my sister’s children gifts for the holidays but given that 1) I had to ask my dad to bring them to her in South America and he did not want to bring anything bulky and 2) he was leaving in one week, I was limited. So I ended up buying them cute clothes that I hope they’ll appreciate. Hope it arrives at my dad’s before he leaves on Monday.

Whenever a friend has a baby, I’m so eager to find a great gift that I end up wasting more time than I care to admit researching presents and trying to avoid shipping charges. FYI – when shopping, I’m partial to good shop, which donates a portion of your purchase to a charity of your choice. now you don’t have to feel guilty about spending so much.

Now, I have the pleasure of picking out a few gifts for my little Pookie for the holidays. She really could have used a new winter coat and a snowsuit but I don’t think we can hold off until December to buy one.

A fellow blogger made a list of gifts for the family that you can find here. I’d like to add a button so I’m eligible to win some of the goodies, but I’m not that technically savvy.

Haute Mom Fashion

While I may not have enough fashion talent to land a spot on Project Runway, or enough sophistication to appreciate some of the contestants’ creations, I still enjoy the show. I’ll thumb through Lucky magazine, admiring new styles and how to pair them with the latest accessories but I probably won’t do it myself. Walking down the streets of my trendy neighborhood, I’ll note a well-dressed woman going to a hip bar or even to work in the morning (often times, designer shoes held in hand while sneakers pound the pavement).

Just because I don’t get dressed up everyday and consider yoga pants are an acceptable pair of bottoms during the weekday does not mean that I don’t appreciate fashion, nor does it translate to a dislike of shopping. I love shopping: the coming home with new items part, not the paying retail price. As my belly grows for the next two months, I try to control my purchasing prowess. Almost anything I buy will only serve me for up to the next twelve weeks, generously. After I have the baby, I’m certainly not going to want to continue wearing my maternity clothing, no matter how chic it may or may not be. But I miss adding new pieces to my closet, even comfortable ones, that I get excited to wear.

Which comes to the next point: as much as I love fashion and the latest trends, I have to ask myself what is the point? I’ll embrace comfortable trends, long sleeve t-shirts with exotic designs, but tailored shirts, structured jackets, even high waisted pants do not have a place in my wardrobe. Too many days, my interactions with people are limited to oblivious store clerks, equally disheveled parents, and homeless men begging for money. Should I risk tearing a new shirt or staining my pants for one of them?

Probably not. I suppose I should dress up for myself, which I do to an extent. It just won’t be with an expensive garment.

Long live E*bay.

I’m right here

Unlike my last pregnancy, my hormones have not made me horny, so my husband’s lack of sexual interest hasn’t bothered in me. In fact, it’s so welcomed that I had opted to stage my own personal experiment to see when he *would* initiate.

I was not counting the days as I really did not care that much but I was curious when…Perhaps my husband was distracted with the marathon, but he did let time slide. Was it before my brother’s wedding when he claimed he had a penis injury, something about chafing? That was in beginning of the month, but I am not terribly sure.

Bottom line, we did it this weekend when Pookie was napping. Afterwards, he said he missed he missed me. I was right here. I was right there. I was falling asleep next to him every night and waking up beside him each morning. All he had to do was make a move. I told him I am always beside him.

hmm. anyone? any thoughts? perspectives?

Working out while Pregnant

My last pregnancy I worked out as much as I wanted, not much.

My first trimester of being pregnant, I experienced about of fatigue I never knew existed and my empathy for Epstein-Barr patients skyrocketed. When I was motivated to go to the gym during my second trimester, the 15 minute walk wore me out (never mind the return walk). The third trimester was in the summer and I was out of the city with my membership at a pricey gym suspended. But I live in Manhattan so I did walk a lot, I just did not go out and seek exercise.

While limiting my exercising, I expanded my diet. Foods that were once off limits or restricted to a few bites like cheesecake found their way into my life again. It was delightful. I could eat as many warm chocolate chip cookies as I wanted and finish my plate at every meal. I determined, I’m going to get huge and I am going to have to loose weight regardless, I might as well indulge. And indulge I did. Fortunately, because of genetics, I carried almost exclusively in my belly and many couldn’t tell I was pregnant from behind.

This pregnancy however, I know what it takes to lose the weight. I know how big I will get and how strong my legs must be to carry the additional weight, and then my arms to constantly carry around a little one, or in this case two little ones. Most importantly, I remember the challenges of changing my eating habits and shifting the mentality from “I can eat anything” to “Moderation and Smart Choices.”

All of which boils down to me trying to keep my diet in check and working out regularly. I still suspended my membership but I can take private pilates classes, which I do. I also found a studio two blocks from my apartment that offers small group mat classes three mornings a week. (I’ve only gone once but I intend to return, plan it in my schedule with the writing and the sitter.) With the economy in a tailspin, it’s definitely more economical than a private session. As a result, I feel great, and my arms are almost sporting definition. My legs and tush feel as strong as ever. Even my obliques make it appear that I am exclusively carrying in my belly and not even my sides. Now, I can be one of the people that let it slip how she worked out her entire pregnancy.*

*While everyone’s definition and experience of working out varies, I will be able to honestly say that I had a consistent routine until…TBA

Still Fighting

I can sit here and rationalize my feelings, tell myself that I have more blessings than most, remind myself how fortunate I am. And I am, I know, I have my health, a great loving husband, a healthy baby, loving parents who make me crazy, blah blah blah.

It doesn’t help me rationalize these depressing emotions that surge through my body. I know when this baby arrives, my heart will open and I will embrace the little one. But at this moment, I am not excited and I am bemoaning the sacrifices I have and will have to make.

Of course, I wanted to have a second child, I just wasn’t expecting it to happen this quickly. With two months to go, the reality of this birth and the side effects of being pregnant are a reality, a reality that I am not eager to embrace.

I feel that I have to put up a happy front for so many people and the one person to whom I can confide, my husband, doesn’t get it. Okay, the second person who *could* understand, is my therapist who validates my feelings, but it doesn’t change anything.

Loaning my goods

I was once eager to loan my clothes or other paraphernalia to my sister or friend or acquaintance. Somehow, having someone cooler or more popular than me wear endorse my attire made me feel a little more hip. It also created, however superficial, a connection between me and the other girl. For similar reasons, I loved borrowing other people’s clothes, a habit that was relatively easy in boarding school.

Issues tended to arise when the borrower turned out to be a bad returner. I hated putting myself out there and asking for my clothes back. And for the real acquaintances who I rarely saw again, well, my clothes disappeared with their friendship. I also remember borrowing (and loaning) items to casual flings in the hopes of prolonging the relationship; it was rarely successful.

In retrospect, it does come across as slightly pathetic that I would swap my goods for a fleeting chance at friendship, but it was one of the few currencies that I had.

Old habits die hard. I recently loaned a *friend* (note the asterisks, because she is not a good friend and has often been lame about connecting for a play date) some of my daughter’s fancy dresses which she has probably outgrown in the two months that they were on loan. My mom encouraged me to get them back now. The longer one takes to return an item, the likelihood of it being returned diminishes. I felt badly asking for my items back, having the mom trek to my hood when we couldn’t figure out a convenient playdate option, and was frustrated when she did not drop them off when she said she would. And these clothes are MINE!

On a good karma note, I did, reluctantly, return a friend’s baby carrier even though I knew she never used it. But we had it for most of the summer and it was the right thing to do. I just wish she returned the doll and the book I had loaned her, or at least made a half hearted attempt to do so. Oh well.

Product Placement

I love swag, or free items. Who doesn’t? So, in an effort to get some goodies, I intend to review products here. Companies can get free publicity and I will hopefully score some new goodies. With child #2 on the way, I’m open to lots of new products for moms, especially ones on the go.

Not quite sure how to proceed, besides telling my new blog group, http://www.svmoms.com that entrepreneurs can pass along some goodies my way. If you have a product that you want reviewed or endorsed, let me know.

I will disclose any affiliations.

I will however note that because of my endorsement of the BOB Revolution jogging stroller, at least six moms, three of whom own the Bugaboo, bought the BOB as an extra stroller. On my husband’s urging, I wrote to BOB and asked if they could at least cut me a deal when we considered buying the double BOB. Even outside the blog, I am what Malcolm Gladwell would call an influencer.

BOB never wrote back. 😦