Wired Momma is now live and I am only blogging there now – so please change your links and subscriptions and visit me every day!
Wired Momma is now live and I am only blogging there now – so please change your links and subscriptions and visit me every day!
Let’s be honest, KT’s BFFs are my muses. Yes, indeed, this blog is nothing if not a masterpiece, and my BFFs provide the inspiration for content. Today is just another example of that.
This afternoon, what landed in my email inbox other than a fired up message that is an age old story for all the preggos out there. This preggo KT BFF, we’ll call her HP (hot preggo) just got out of a meeting. She was the only female. Nine other men participated. Towards the end, one dude asked another dude how his wife was doing…..the old pregnant ball and chain.
Apparently a knowing laughter busted out across the meeting, as if there is some kind of silent understanding among fathers about having a pregnant wife at home, as the man explained the preggo wife was due any day.
Ahh….the perils and trials of being the husband of a preggo – are we all wiping a tear of sympathy from our eyes?
HP chimed in at the end and good-heartedly asked why they all laughed so hard knowing there is a preggo at home, she pointed out all they have to do is show up at the hospital and stand there. Of course, the men could do nothing but agree because well, what the hell else do they do aside from contribute the sperm to land you in that condition, until that baby comes out?
This, naturally, sparked a string of emails amongst the BFFs about this very scenario, one we are all quite familiar with – and it begged this question – are we really that difficult to deal with at home?
Is having a preggo wife at home that big of a deal? Does it change the dynamic? Does it really require that much effort on the part of the husband to deal with the infrequent emotional outbursts over 10 months? Are we actually nightmares and we just don’t know it – or do these men just feel some kind of camaraderie in the ‘Knowing’ laughter at the thought of a preggo on the verge of labor at home – but they don’t really mean anything by it?
Are we kidding ourselves in thinking that with a few exceptions smattered across the months, we really aren’t difficult? Or is there a cultural expectation that preggos are emotional, hormonal, fragile, delicate, and argumentative throughout the pregnancy – regardless of whether this is grounded in truth?
Yeah yeah…we all are different, all of our pregnancies are different, we have different thresholds for pain and stress, yadda yadda yadda…but still….if there were 9 men in the room and they all shared in the ‘knowing’ laugh, then what does that tell us?
Is it possible we view ourselves with rose colored glasses? The KT BFFs were pretty quick to point out that, for the most part, each of us was nothing but a treat (and totally sexy and hot) throughout our pregnancies. Of course there were times where I, for one, definitely hated my husband, but do any of us really need a pregnancy for that sentiment?
Seriously – are we kidding ourselves? Or were they just being idiots?
In 84 point font….in red…bold red…..that’s what would be stamped across my submission to the Mother of the Year contest.
Now, before we get to it, let’s review the fight club rules for any KT newbies. There is no “mommy guilt” in KT-land…I roll my eyes and snicker at people who waste their precious reserve of emotional energy on that. Spend more time thinking about how Memorial Day is ushering in the new 09 summer season and have you updated your summer wardrobe with any fun new pieces? If not, the huge Anthropologie sidewalk sale started yesterday.
So what happened, you wonder?
Ahh…kittens….I might have hit a new low yesterday. And ironically, just when I was feeling quite confident and pleased with myself.
Did I linger in the kitchen a bit too long over my coffee, pretending like I didn’t hear my girls calling me?
Oh no….who doesn’t do that?
Did I pretend to be showering and instead loiter in my bedroom while typing away on KT and leave my DH to deal with the two kiddos who were both all fired up?
Oh no…that might be happening right now.
Well, first, what did I do that had me feeling all warm and fuzzy and proud?
It’s the little things that are the big things. I got to DD1’s soccer practice ON TIME – organized – with a well-fed and happy baby and DD1 in a good mood, with her soccer ball, prepared to participate in soccer practice and not hang around me the entire time. This, dear friends, is an enormous accomplishments. I brought lunch for our picnic after soccer, I had them both dressed appropriately for this confusing spring weather, I even scored a sweet parking spot. Life was so good.
And then it all came crashing down…literally.
Oh, you got it. My baby came crashing down.
I brought our old stroller yesterday, not the double stroller. It had been a while since I’d set that stroller up but that was the one that was in my trunk, so it came with us. I wrestled with it and kicked it a bit but finally got it set up, got both kiddos out of the car, loaded DD2 into the stroller, and we started walking towards the field.
DD1 was ahead of us and I was busy reading my emails and pushing DD2, what else, right?
I need to sneak in personal email time when I can.
Then all of a sudden- I was that mother pushing her baby and reading her email when suddenly her baby was on the concrete slab.
Apparently I really didn’t set up the stroller correctly – and in slow-motion – as these things always seem to happen as you watch in utter disbelief, the stroller collapsed and started folding into itself, and out rolled DD2, out of the stroller, onto the concrete walkway.
Yes, other mothers stood and watched.
While I was still half-reading my email and incredulous as to what was happening.
Apparently I am no stroller-engineer.
DD2 started screaming bloody murder. DD1 ushered to her side trying to console her and well, I sorta couldn’t believe it.
How’s that for a doozer?
DD2 is totally fine. Not a scrape or scratch on her. It really did happen in slow motion – and I knew she was just scared and well, I was a total freaking idiot.
So much for being on time and organized.
Just when you get all confident and pleased with yourself…..reality gives you a little tap on the shoulder……
OK – so I’ve completed two full weeks as a SAHM. And guess what? I’m a total misanthrope.
This hit me the other day as I rounded the corner to the park, spotted a playdate going on around lunch time, filled with toddlers and moms – playing and having a picnic.
Sure, it looked real nice.
Let me tell you, I wanted no part in it. Am I alone in this people? I swear, I am pretty sure I got past “Hi, my name is ” after the first week of my freshman year of college. I really have no interest in it. Should this bother me, I wondered? I mean – I am a social gal. I love to gab, I love to gossip, I generally don’t like being alone.
But I’ll be damned if I’m going to seek out some kind of playgroup and start introducing myself to people. I think this might be weird on my end. But see- I don’t care.
I figure – if I know you and like you already – then super, let’s hang out. If I don’t know you – then I really don’t have any more room in my brain for any new people. I’d rather go read online about celeb gossip or think about what I’ll eat for dinner.
I think this is also why I hate Facebook and refuse to join. F that. If you don’t already have my email – then forget it – I don’t want you to find me. There’s a reason we don’t talk anymore. If I already talk to you on email, why do I also need to talk to you on Facebook? Can I start a “facebook is for teens” movement? Will you join me?
Is it possible to be an extroverted, outgoing, misanthrope? Because if there’s a category for that person in the Myers Briggs – then that is totally MOI.
Playdates be damned.
Ok – so now that I’m almost five months into having two kids – I am close to conceding that having two is actually double the work. I would like to formally submit my complaint against spring break or school really ever ending. Yes, I know teachers deserve a break – but so do us parents – and school is how we get it! I have never been happier to pull up into the school parking lot as I was this week. That being said, after almost five months of 14 hour days with barely a break in the day, I am pretty tired. I am not complaining, I love love love having two kids and cannot imagine a day without them. (well, I can, but you know what i mean).
Through all of this though, my one real observation is about temperament. I really truly believe you have a really hard go the first time and are traumatized – so the second one is a breeze, or you have it pretty easy the first time and secretly think everyone else is making it up, and then your second comes around and you are blindsided. I also believe and know there are those unlucky ones out there who have it really rough both times (read: colic) and if there is someone out there who has an easy baby sleeping through the night more than once and really don’t suffer through endless tantrums in the 2s and 3s, then keep that to yourselves because the rest of us hate you and might pillage your house.
I mean – the number of people who want to discuss this theory with me – fascinates me. Even our construction guys love dishing on this with me – instead of working on my basement – and it’s fun to gab with them. Our guy downstairs right now falls in the camp of easy first one, blindsided by the second. Avid KT fans know where I fall – blindsided the first time and easy street this second time. So far. I really think the hard work doesn’t actually start until they are 2 anyway.
My conclusion is this – I am happy to have been through the ringer and back over and over and over again with DD1 since she was born because well – it was such a shock to the system that I didn’t realize life could be any other way. I feel like parents who have the easier baby first time are so blindsided and so shocked when the second comes out more challenging. I don’t know if they thought the rest of us were making all the drama up – or maybe you just know what you know – and then suddenly what you know dumps a bucket of cold water on you – and it sucks – who knows – but we all get it. No one comes away unscathed.
So now where does this leave a third? Considering how simple life has been with DD2, for us, I have found myself considering a third on several occasions. But here’s the deal – I can’t get a guarantee that the third will come out this easy. So – maybe I should just quit while I’m ahead.
It’s off to work I go.
Tommorrow is the big day. After a lovely 15 weeks of maternity leave, I return to work tomorrow. To help ease the transition for DD1, DH is taking his last week of paternity week to spend with the girls. After 4 months of full-time mommy, if we both were to up and ditch her for work, it would be like a nuclear explosion in her world. I mean, how does one explain that one to a 3-year-old?
So how do I feel about returning to work?
The emotional side of me feels a pit in my stomach and tears are welling in my eyes.
The rational side of me calmly tells myself that I know from after returning the first time, the anticipation is way worse than the reality.
The emotional side is screaming out “no no no!”
The rational side of me reminds myself that tomorrow I get to put on a pretty suit, wear awesome shoes, fun jewelry and guess what – pee when I have too and eat when I’m hungry and even cruise the web for celeb gossip, all things I haven’t done at will in 4 months.
The emotional side of me thinks about someone else taking DD1 to school (well, DH taking her) and how he’ll get to experience the joy on her face when he picks her up, not me, and I immediately feel the tears.
The rational side of me reminds myself that I’ve got sweet lunches with fun people at new restaurants already lined up…you know, a gal has to stay hip.
The emotional side of me….well, you know.
SO what’s my point? My point is the reflection on this mat leave is very different than the first time. I’m pretty sure nothing is worse than the first time. That first mat leave was rife with emotions, confusion, exhaustion and lots of loneliness.
This time, there was no time to feel lonely. Who is lonely with another kid tearing through the house? There was no confusion because, well, we knew what we were walking into, so it’s not like we were surprised. The only one capable of surprising us in the house so far is the older one. Honestly, it’s just been really fun. I’ve loved every day with the girls, I couldn’t have cared less about work, I totally checked out. Last time, I fretted about work, I kept up, I called in on some conference calls, I worried about what I ws missing. Do you think I did one of those things this time? Oh hell no……
And so the bottom line is this, DD1 is almost 3.5 years old and just about every day of the past 3.5 years has been an internal struggle for me – do I want to work, do I want to give it up, what am I missing at home, what am I missing at work? And on and on and on. I am done with that struggle.
So hi-ho, hi-ho, I go, tomorrow, to go back. For a week. Then I will throw in the towel. It will be so liberating and really nerve-wracking at the same time. I am determined to enjoy this last hurrah of looking nice, showering daily, eating great meals and toiling away behind the desk – because who knows when I’ll do it again.
These are the things I keep telling my emotional self as I think about waving goodbye tomorrow morning to the sweet faces and pulling out of the driveway.
Kids sure do make everything confusing, don’t they?
I don’t know about you but I do love catching re-runs of “Dr. 90210” on Bravo, or whatever channel it comes on. It fascinates me to see the kind of people that come in for plastic surgery, just how much they are willing to spend, and the different types of surgery people are seeking.
One of the more unusual episodes I watched was about vaginal rejuvenation surgery. Have you seen this episode? Now – anyone who has delivered a baby vaginally can fully appreciate why someone might consider vaginal rejuvenation. Let’s face it, your stomach isn’t the only thing that ends up all stretched out after birth.
And then, along comes a story in the NYT that is impossible for me to resist….an gyno has opened a spa for “Pelvic Fitness.”
Now come on people. This spa is wholly dedicated to “strengthening and improving a woman’s genital area.”
Is anyone actually mature enough to get through this piece without giggling?
For a whopping $150, you can let the good doctor shove her fingers inside you and you are to contract your pelvic muscles around her fingers – so she can gauge just how loose you really are.
My…can I count the ways I’d RATHER be spending $150?
Should I start? Or leave you to making your very own list?
Ahh….ladies of Manhattan…rejoice now that you have your very own gyno spa!!!
Have a great July 4th kittens. My DD was in the back yard today, waving around her American flag, and I felt compelled to hum a tune along with her as she waved the flag around the yard and we marched. Took me a few minutes to realize I was humming the British national anthem….
I’m a true patriot.