Does This Baby Make My Butt Look Big?

I can't tell you how many times I've encouraged my sweet, plump, girlfriends about their weight gain during pregnancy.  "It'll come off, don't worry."  "Go with it.  If ever you can enjoy your round self, it's now."  "You're gorgeous!"


It's amazing how easy it is to give advice.


In my first two pregnancies I spent the first 14 or so weeks throwing up.  Even spent some time in the hospital with the twins.  Yet, I still managed to gain the high end of the recommended weight both times.  This pregnancy brought the nausea as well, but no where near as bad.  I was able to manage it by eating... ALL THE TIME.  I gained a good portion of my weight in those first 12 weeks.  Then the baked goods cravings started.  I was powerless.



When I'm pregnant, I do it up right; pregnant arms, face, butt, feet.  I'm one of those puffy, worn, preggies that sit on the bench in the mall, smoothy in hand, glaring at the spunky toothpicks-for-limbs, 20-something pregnant anomalies walking in and out of Motherhood maternity stores.  You know, the ones we like to say aren't realistic until they step out of the magazine and into my doctor's office.


My doctor isn't concerned with my weight gain.  Why doesn't that relieve me more?  


The kids are helpful.  It's really fun to experience pregnancy with two pre-adolescents and a teenager.  "Hey Mom, do that triple chin thing again!"  "That swim suit doesn't look right."  *Sigh*  "You look fine.  You look like.. a.. mom..." (heard in my head as nightmarish echos).


This all flies in the face of my ideals.  I'm very pro REAL woman.  I hate the obscene expectations put on society (especially females) to be super-stars.  I think retailers would be surprised at the influx of business they'd see if they marketed apparel to flatter human people.  It would be so much easier to select clothes if the manikin used to model them was a size 8 or 10 as opposed to size 10-year-old-boy.

**In Theory**

Truth be told, I buy into it far more than I'd like to admit.  Sometimes it's hard to distinguish the line between expressing myself as a creative individualist, and being motivated by feeling "not good enough".  I am not opposed to dying hair (obviously) or buying fun clothes, painting nails, or even plastic surgery (especially to repair real damage done).  Those things can make us feel good; like we're taking care of ourselves; like we think we're worth it.  But when it's done because Susie is skinnier, blonder, richer... then it is degrading.  It's no longer about who I am as a person but who she is and who I am not.

Anyway, back to my butt.  As difficult as it is, I have made a determination to accept my maternal right to be soft right now.  Embrace it.  It requires forcing my mind in the opposite direction when the self-loathing sets in.  Retraining the grooves of thought.  

I do LOVE certain aspects of my roundness.  My belly mainly.  I think I have appreciated the gift of pregnancy so much more this time around since I never thought I'd be here again.  I love feeling him thump about.  I'm not as eager to get him out as I was with the others.  This time is so short and I'm so lucky to be given this miracle of an opportunity.  I love and accept my belly.  I will learn to love the rest of me as well.

Watch out, Barbie dolls, cause 

Baby Got Back!!

More Tid Bits of Possibly Useless Information

On Sunday I decided to take myself out on the town.  I drove up to Walnut Creek which is only about 25 minutes away but an entirely different atmosphere.


 **When we first moved to the Bay area we lived in Poet's Corner on the boarder of Pleasant Hill and Walnut Creek.  I loved it.  After the first year, I reluctantly agreed to move to a newer townhome in Dublin.  It was nice to live in a more efficient home, but I really miss living among the trees and culture of Walnut Creek.**


Anyway, the town was buzzing, as I expected on a sunny weekend.  Parking was scarce so I had to park on the roof of a parking structure.  I appreciate that WC still offers free parking structures - a rarity these days.  I really didn't mind parking up there because I've been needing exercise.  I'm proud to say I used the stairs both down and back up!  The wheezing and moaning didn't seem to attract too much attention.

I was excited to browse one of my favorite chain stores, Urban Outfitters.  UO and Anthropologie are sister stores which is obvious by their merchandising.  They have done a fabulous job of creating a genre all their own.  I like to linger in both shops just to soak up the atmosphere, although I like the music and scents in Anthropologie a tad more.  


UO is the more economical/youthful of the two.  I like to dig through their sale racks for treasures.  On this visit, I went specifically to check out their home decor.  I love their quilts.  The prices are reasonable, but still too much for me, so I have to wait for clearance.  Of course, I LOVE the duvet covers at Anthropolgie, but they are WAY out of my budget right now, so not even looking...

I did make one awesome purchase.  I found a fun top!  This pregnancy, my wardrobe has required a lot of 'out of the box' thinking.  I have managed to spend a grand total of $13 on maternity clothes thus far (thanks to generous friends, freecycle, and garage sales).  BUT, it felt really good to buy something NEW.  UO is great for maternity finds since they offer a variety of longer-than-average tops and tunics.  And with style! 

I attempted to take a self portrait to show the "belly fit" of my new top, but had trouble capturing it (arm not long enough for obtuse belly).  Of course, I didn't think of taking the pic till after I had washed my face for bed, so... it is what it is.


While still feeling proud of myself for the stair climbing, I chose to go with the healthy thing and make a nutritious dinner of potatoes, pea shoots, green beans and watermelon.  Yes, pea shoots.  I've never cooked with them before but my sister-in-law gave me a big bag of them so I gave it a shot.  Stir-fried them with a bit of salt and YUM!  Outside of the tough to chew element, they have earned a place in my vegetable heart.


So, I washed the dishes, watched an uninspiring TV movie, and made a desperate attempt to ignore the siren call of the salted caramel ice cream in the freezer (with oreo cookie).  FUTILITY, I tell you!!  BUT, I did make it a smaller portion than usual.  I get points for that, right??  


Oh well, it's a new day, new opportunity to resist one of the few sources of joy in my life temptation.

OH!  Before I sign off, I'd love your input.  I'm considering a hair cut.  As I've mentioned, this pregnancy (and possibly a few cheap bottles of hair dye) has done a number on the health of my locks.  They are VERY dry and need a trim.  I haven't wanted to cut my hair, but am thinking I might have to.  SO, I found this pic of a possible style.  I know I'm no Sandra Bullock, but use your imagination.  What do you think?  I'd love any suggestions you have.  Need to take action soon.


Ok, so that's a little bit of nothing for ya.  Have a great day.  Peace Out!

Big Hairy Deal

I've added a new form of fiber to my kids' diets lately...  Hair.  Initially, it grossed them out, but as time has worn on they seem to have accepted it as the norm.  It isn't due to our skeleton of a budget - though, every little bit helps!  It has more to do with my recent inability to keep my hair in my head.  


This seems to be an unfortunate by-product of my pregnancy.  My kids actually take great pleasure in pointing out the various ways in which Biscuit (baby) is sucking the life out of mom.  I'm glad I'm able to provide them with adequate material.  I've taken most of it in stride.  I've even come to embrace my new, rounder self.  The mild pigmentation above my upper lip (kinda like a mustache tattoo), has been a disappointment; but I have to say, the hair loss has been more than a little concerning.  


The kids aren't completely heartless on the matter, though.  Kinsey made the helpful suggestion that we collect all of mom's hairs and have a wig made for when she goes bald.  I like to keep her around just for those extra boosts to my self esteem.


I love hair.  It offers so much opportunity for us to be creative, self-expressive, individualists.  And, though it takes time, it is always forgiving.  Say, for example, one completely fries her hair by using a cheap bleaching kit, resulting in various shades of highlighter pink, orange and yellow.  Even if the hundreds of dollars she spent in attempts to repair said damage were to be unsuccessful; eventually, her hair would grow out, leaving the horrific incident as nothing more than an addition to her "notes to self".

Red was one of my favorites.  I loved how it seemed to infuse me with that fireball attitude which seems to be intrinsic in all natural-born red-heads.  Of course, it's a very difficult shade to maintain if your not graced with that magic genetic code.  So, I remain in envy of such gorgeous natural beauties.

Check out these rock'n red curly heads!  *sigh* Can't find that on a shelf in Walmart...

I've been blonde more than any other color, but that is a costly route to take.  It HAS to be done in a salon.  Trust me.  


Currently I am a brunette.  It's proving to allow the longest stretch of time between touch-ups, which is great since I have NO money.


I love it when people are daring with their manes and manage to pull it off.  I mean like the ones who go purple or fuchsia and you find yourself staring at them in awe that they actually look good.  


Or the ones who look fabulous with super short hair.

Or dreadlocks... 




Or the most daring of all (and stunning when it works)... 


Silver...

I would LOVE to pull that off!


I have always looked at hair as a canvas.  And though I haven't been as bold as some, I have pushed my own limits on a fairly regular basis.  Perms, Bobs, Boy cuts, Fringes, Highlights, Low lights, Box Colors of various shades... FUN! 


And, it seems quite possible that in the near future I might try bald on for size.  Sinead, Demi, Britney, watch out!  Mama's shining up her crown and hitting the town!

Day Trip

Wednesday was doctor day again. About every six weeks I make the pilgrimage to Chico to meet with my Lyme doctors and evaluate the progress of my treatment.

I tend to drag my feet leading up to D-day, knowing that it will be long and exhausting. It's a three hour drive both ways. But, I like road trips. Always have. Provides an excuse to do nothing

but sit and watch the world go by. So I forced myself out the door and, after a necessary stop by Starbucks for a Venti-sized cup of motivation, I was off.

I listened to loud music on this trip. Had to change stations three times along the way in order to keep the groove going. There was a lot of angry chick music, which I found exhilarating. Even sang along. This is note-worthy because, over the past several years, I have not tolerated the sound of music well. Not just music, ANY noise. I find all of it agitating. It is just one of my many 'Princess and the Pea' idiosyncrasies courtesy of Lyme disease. So my recent ability to find pleasure in rocking out to Pink is a welcome milestone in my treatment.

On my first visit to Chico I discovered the best grilled veggie sandwich EVER at a Bakery called The Upper Crust. It was very upsetting when I stopped by the bakery on my last trip only to find that the grill was closed. Ended up eating a substandard replacement and vowed never to make that mistake again. So, on this trip, I made plans to leave early enough to allow plenty of sandwich time.

The problem with high expectations, of course, is the potential for not meeting them. The bakery was as I remembered it. Glass case full of delectables and a long line of locals. When the sandwich arrived, it was

beautiful, but, at first bite, my heart sank. Disappointment. It wasn't BAD, just not the best EVER like it was before. The bread still melted in my mouth but the peppers were too crunchy. I didn't even finish it.

Maybe certain pleasures are only meant to be experienced once. Sealed in the memory with all of the other spontaneous moments that we treasure and ponder now and again. Not sure if I'll return to The Upper Crust on my next visit. Guess I have six weeks to think about it.

With a bit of extra time on my hands, I decided to tool around downtown Chico. Being a university town, it's littered with trendy vintage shops and used bookstores.

Dreadlocks and bohemian apparel are definitely the mainstream. I love it. Although, I have to smirk at the notion that they actually seem to think they are rebelling against fashion. They ARE the fashion in Chico. They set the standard and all the new-comers clamor to fall in line.

But let's not get distracted by my tangents. The purpose for my day trip was to see the doctor. It's an appointment that could probably be done over the phone but they feel it is important that I sit in their depressing waiting room with all the other damaged mortals and then be transported to a quiet, sterile, cave to be left alone with my thoughts.

It's always unnerving when the silence is broken by the chatting hallway nurses, laughing about their recent outings or exchanging salon information. I usually try to keep myself occupied by reading a magazine or playing Scramble on my phone. This time I thought I would play with i-photography. I titled this pic of myself, "Reflections in A Doctor's Office."

The appointment was typical. Went over my improvements and current complaints. The night sweats have stopped, the sound sensitivity seems to be lessening, and I am much less aware of my foot pain. Doctor was encouraged and decided to add a new med to my list. This one is a hard-hitter and will probably knock me on my ass for a while but I only have to take it for 30 days. Doctor was a little concerned about the new growth pattern of my fingernails. They are turning up, away from the nail bed. He also thought my skin looked a little off. So, I'll be donating more blood this week just to make sure my thyroid is in check, etc.

With new scripts in hand, I was done and ready for the journey home. I had a pounding headache and was keenly aware that my Venti motivator from the morning had not done an adequate job, so I really felt a carmel frappuccino was necessary. Along with several Advil.

I took it slow on my drive home. I loved all the trees, farms, orchards, and hand-written signs advertising produce and flowers for sale.

On my way in, I had passed a cemetery along the 99. I didn't want to miss it on my way out. It wasn't a sad place. It was peaceful. It touched me. I don't want to be buried when I die, but there is something very comforting about a cemetery for those left behind. It's a place to visit. To feel like somehow you can still connect with that person that used to fill a tangible space in your life.

It was a long, exhausting, GOOD day...

Just for me.