Taboo

taboo adjective: proscribed by society as improper or unacceptable

Apparently, being pregnant is in fact taboo.  I'm not sure from where this so called society thinks it originated, but I am starting to think we are not too far past the barefoot and pregnant mentality.  About a million things have pissed me off this week in regards to pregnancy, none of which have anything to do with my growing waste size or my raging hormones. 

I now understand why shopping for maternity clothes triggered a fit of tears EVERY time.  Because only Heidi Klum understands and you can only buy her line of clothing in bits and pieces at random stores.  To begin with, the quality of maternity clothes, specifically pants, is ridiculous unless you spend $100+ on pants you can only wear for about 6 months.  Yes, my ass is wider, but that doesn't mean I don't notice that the pockets on my jeans are lopsided and oddly spaced.  Having one pocket on my thigh rather than on my other cheek just isn't working for me.  In fact, doesn't this draw more attention to my posterior?

I also don't understand why everything has to make me look like I myself am the child.  Is it necessary that all my tops tie in the back?  I'm pretty sure my ginormous belly will hold everything in place.  And on the topic of the ginormous belly, it makes no sense that the majority of tops have horizontal stripes, which according to all the fashion magazines, only makes you look wider.  It's like the think tank on this one sat down and said, "Yes, let's take hormonal women who already feel fat and gross and let's give them fashion disasters that make them look even bigger and squattier!"  It's a wonder we don't have an epidemic of pregnant suicides on our hands. 

All of this is assuming you can even find the maternity clothes at any given store.  Apparently, they think pregnant women are a minority.  I'll give props to Target.  Their tiny little section is at least with the other women's clothes.  At Kohl's, I have walked that store 50 times and finally decided I had been misinformed and that they did not carry maternity.  By accident this week I stumbled upon their two racks in the most logical place...against the wall, in a corner, between the bras and the robes.  This is on the opposite side of the store from women's clothing and there is not sign announcing maternity.  You have to recognize a brand name or notice the lovely elastic belly band waste that has been neatly tucked in to conceal it from sight.  Are we really that repulsive?  At Burlington, I again came across their section my mistake.  It is located in the farthest corner from the door between the strollers and the toys.  Not even in the clothing section.  At Macy's it's BEHIND customer service, by the service door and they didn't even have a light above the section.  It is no wonder we are all stuffing ourselves into our pre-pregnancy clothes or ill fitting larger sizes that may reveal a peak at the belly or a boob from time to time. 

Thank God for my mother, who suggested we skip maternity all together and opt for cute sweater dresses to get me through the winter.

So if one day you pass me and see a little more of me than you would like, don't judge... blame the department stores. 

The Ghosts of Christmas Past

Every year the process of getting and decorating our Christmas tree turns into some crazy situations.  The first year did not start us off on the right track thanks to my overactive imagination.  Although I am far from warm and fuzzy, I had allowed my mind to drifts off into a Cleaver-ish scenario of silver bells and holly, mistletoe and magic. Rocky would rush home, sharing my excitement over buying our first married tree. We would examine every tree on the Home Depot lot until we found the perfect one (because Home Depot is the picture of romance). Once home, my adoring husband would turn on Christmas carols and start a fire while I poured our glasses of wine. We would then enjoy an evening of stringing lights and adorning our perfect tree, commenting on how wonderful our first married Christmas was turning out.

I have no idea where this image came from. I blame too many Fa la la la Lifetime movies and my evening was far from a dream.  My husband did rush home, but not in the holiday spirit...in the fantasy football spirit.  The Jets were playing the Bills. As he plopped down on the sofa I watched my daydream do a tale spin into the trash can. After I stormed off into the laundry room to furiously sort clothes he appeared in the doorway, having had his memory jogged by my little tantrum and we headed off to Home Depot.  Actually getting the tree went pretty smooth and I had renewed hope for the evening.  Once home I began unpacking boxes and boxes of lights and ornaments and stockings and trim, beginning to feel like my holiday fantasy might have dragged it's smoking carcass from the trash in my very own Christmas miracle.

Wrong again.  He paused the football game long enough to help me string lights and before I could even plug them in, he was back on the sofa with the remote, glued to the game.  I could see where this was going so I drop kicked my Christmas miracle back into the garbage and begin throwing all the decorations, which I have just unpacked, back into the boxes. Now, it's important to mention that at this point I knew I was being irrational and overreacting, but I didn't care.  Furious, I stomp out of the room yelling, "I am not decorating our first married tree BY MYSELF! I guess we will just have lights this year. I would hate for our FIRST CHRISTMAS to get in the way of watching the FOOTBALL GAME!"  I eventually calmed down and after convincing my husband he did not marry a crackpot, I got a happy ending to this holiday drama.   The next evening Rocky came home and pulled out the decorations. He then poured two large glasses of wine, handed me one, and then put on Christmas carols.  By the end of the evening we have a beautiful tree, a happy buzz, and a less-than-perfect but wonderful memory.

Our second Christmas together was comical.  Rocky, being the smart guy that he is, decided to avoid any holiday drama.  He coordinated with me ahead of time and we planned to get our tree on a non-football night.  We got the tree and made it home where I poured wine while Rocky started a fire.  It was quickly turning into my Lifetime Movie and I was secretly pleased.  While in the office dragging the decorations out of the closet, we were interrupted by the ear-piercing sound of the smoke alarm.  We raced into the living room and discovered smoke billowing out of the fire place.  The dog was frantic as I hacked and coughed my way through the house opening windows and doors while Rocky tried to figure out how to extinguish the fire.  We learned a little lesson about chimney sweeps that Christmas, but still managed to get everything decorated.

The third time was bound to be a charm.  We planned to get the tree early Sunday morning, agreed that we would wait until later in the evening to decorate so that Rocky could watch the football game, and we decided to fore go a fire.  Sunday morning we loaded up and headed out to get the tree, stopping at our favorite kolache shop on the way.  We quickly found the perfect tree, paid for it, and carried it to the car where we we discovered that this tree (like me) seems to be fatter than in previous years because it would not fit in the trunk.  No problem.  We just let it stick out and drove home with the trunk open.  On the way home I realized we didn't have them cut the bottom off the trunk and I informed Rocky he would have to trim it when we got home so the tree would be able to absorb water and live longer.  He reminded me that we only have a hand saw, which seemed like a reasonable tool to me, but he felt differently and tried to convince me the trees had been cut recently and it didn't need a trim.  I pouted the remainder of the trip home, convinced our tree would die within the week.  Hormones.     

We finally made it home and started to unload the tree when I noticed a tag on the bottom branch.  "Grown in Oregon!" I read.  "How recently could they have been cut if they were grown in OREGON?!"  At this point, my poor husband sees the crazy coming out and just silently continues to work at getting the tree out of the trunk.  He carried it to the backyard and then went to the shed to retrieve the hand saw.  About this time I am starting to see crazy myself and feel bad, but I really wanted the base cut so I offered to help hold the tree in a peace making effort.  The most obvious way seemed to be to straddle it while he cut so I climbed on.  He put all his effort into sawing the biggest trunk I have ever seen on a Christmas tree and I leaned over to watch and offer encouragement (I'm sure he loved that).  About halfway through the trunk, the saw got stuck.  He pulled and pulled and I'm watching closely to see what happens when suddenly the saw came out and nailed me right between the eyes.  I see stars.  We both sat stunned for a minute.  He felt bad, but I'm pretty sure he was thinking that I deserved it just a little... I was kind of thinking the same thing.  I recovered and we (he) finished cutting the trunk off and we got the tree inside where it now consumes a gallon of water a day.  All the other decorations went up without a problem and we are even going to attempt to put lights up outside on the tree in the front yard.  We kept that piece of tree trunk and made an ornament out of it for the tree.  The only problem now is that the dog keeps pulling the tree skirt off and using it to bury her bones in the house.   

Our lovely tree and all our decor... don't mind the referee on the TV!

  

And So It Goes

It's all starting to be too much.  I got over my baby blues just in time to start getting the crap kicked out of me while itching from head to toe.  As Jake gets bigger, I obviously feel him more frequently.  I have decided he is all elbows and knees and he is in the process of busting out of the belly.  When he isn't karate chopping my spleen or bladder, he is wedged down in my pelvic area making it nearly impossible to move without moaning in pain.  I mean seriously.    He has four more months.  It's not like he has to stand in line at the door.  It's not Black Friday in there... no one else is trying to make a break for the exit.  He could live a little higher in the belly for a while.  Just saying...

In itching news, the rash is almost clear except for a spot here or there.  It has been replaced with scaly flaky alligator skin.  It reminds me of that Nivea commercial.  Maybe I should go for a casting call.  You would think no rash means no itch, but you would be very very wrong.  I had quite an episode the other morning trying to get to an itch on my bicep while wearing a sweater and jacket and driving.  Good times. 

It doesn't stop there, however.  The itching has spread to my upper belly which I am told is due to stretching.  I lube up with body butter and it seems to help.  What is does not help is the insane itching on my nipples!  Nothing helps and I have tried everything.  I put cold packs on them (which really isn't pleasant), I tried Benadryl cream, Caladryl, lotion, and nail polish.  All this did was give me cold, crusty nipples that smelled like acetone.  Today I was hiding under my desk scratching so my students wouldn't notice.  Again my poor roommates at work were subjected to Debby Does Round Rock as I went on a scratching frenzy.  So imagine if you will a preggo teacher who already has out of control nipple hard ons... now I am pinching and tweaking them all day due to the itching!  No one told me pregnancy was going to turn me into a porn star. 

Don't be Rash

This week was supposed to be amazing.  Two day work week and then 5 day weekend.  Instead, I have an encounter with a sago palm and end up with a nasty allergic reaction.  It spread up my arm and across my chest.  It is currently not getting better.  It is so gross and itchy I had to start taking Benadryl every 4 hours and applying Caladryl every 2 hours. 

This week also brought with it knees and elbows.  Jake has gone from a slight fluttery feeling to a full blown karate kick.  They get harder and stronger every day and now can actually make me catch my breath  from time to time.  Rocky likes it because he can feel him now, and I can't imagine how crazy it is going to be when he gets bigger!

Tomorrow we are off to East Texas for some turkey and family time.  Can't wait to see everyone and relax a little bit!

Halfway There!

So we are officially halfway at 20 weeks.  The belly is starting to get bigger by the day.  I wake up every morning convinced it has doubled in size while I slept.  One night I gained a whole pound overnight!  My waist is now the same size as my husbands, measuring a whopping 34 inches.  That is 5 inches and 5 pounds in 5 months.  Holy cow!  Maybe Jake will come on April 5th instead of 9th... just in time for The Toddfather's birthday!  Rocky also was able to feel him for the first time this weekend.  That was pretty cool and he was beside himself.  He has been waiting to feel him since we found out we were pregnant.

20 Weeks Belly Shot.. it really popped! 

I also started a blog just for Jake.  Well, actually it's for Jake's grandparents, aunts, and uncle.  I don't want to post all his pictures and happenings on Facebook so this way family and friends who are interested can keep up with the little mover and shaker without Mom looking like a crazy person on Facebook.   

The waiting game is the longest thing ever.  I spend a lot of time on pinterest and etsy helping past the time.  Lately, some pretty funny baby stuff has popped up.  Here are a few of my favorites: 

I also found this ADORABLE outfit that I think I am going to get for Jake to wear to Kimmi's wedding with little black pants.  We were going to leave him at home, but Aisha didn't really want to babysit since he will only be a few weeks old and I don't think we will start the bottle that soon so we are dragging him along.  He has to be dressed for the occasion.  He might want to dance with the bride during the dollar dance so he needs to be ready. 

My latest craft project was a holiday wreath, which turned out to be much bigger than I had originally planned.  It took a while to make, but it was fun and I am mostly happy with the results. 

I also enjoy googling my dreams to see if they have any significant meaning.  I compare the dream interpretation site's ideas with my own interpretation.  Here are some of my recent ones. 

One recurring dream involves beer.  In my dream I am drinking beer after beer.  Finally, around my third one I remember I am pregnant and decided I should probably stop... after I finish the one I am on.  

Dream website interpreted says: "To dream that you are drinking alcohol in excess signifies feelings of insecurity and regret. You may be worried that people will discover your true identity."  

Shalinda says: "I'm pretty sure my true identity was discovered aLONG time ago.  I'm not one to hold back.  I think the dream means... that I need a freaking beer!  I'm a teacher for crying out loud." 

Another recurring theme is cars.  Sometimes I am stuck in the car, sometimes I'm in a car accident, sometimes I am trying to drive and the car is controlling itself.  

Dream website says: "Such dreams are related to the level of control you have in your life. The physical condition of the car, as well as your location in the car (for example: Are you the one driving, or are you a passenger?) are reflections of how in control you are feeling." 

Shalinda says: "I'm a terrible driver.  My husband is a fast and aggressive driver.  Riding with him makes me sick and gives me a headache from anxiety.  I have terrible road rage.  I have totaled 3 cars since I have lived in Austin, two within a year of each other.  I'm pretty sure I never feel completely in control in the car.  I would rather take a bus or train and add hours to my trip.  Dream means HIRE A DRIVER WHEN THE BABY COMES!"  

Now, Rocky is having crazy dream! 

It's a Boy!

So now that we KNOW it's a boy all the fun as started.  Jake Hudson Kelley is already shaking things up!  I arrived at school Tuesday morning to a surprise!

To be honest, it took me a minute to figure out what was going on.  I knew it wasn't my birthday and I was a little confused until I read the "It's a Boy!" balloon.  I am totally blaming it on Pregnant Brain, which has become such a prominent part of my life it has become a proper noun and deserves to be capitalized. 

Christine and Amanda had decorated my side of the room in blue and white streamers and balloons and made a cute little sign with Jake's name on it!  It seriously made me giddy.  All day my students came in and read it as asked, "Who's having a baby?"  Nice.  They also gave Jake a cute little gift that his daddy really liked.  Somehow, I already know he's probably going to grow into it...literally, and we can thank his granddad for that!   

I also didn't waste anytime getting started on the nursery.  I agonized and went back and forth trying to find bedding that I liked.  Rocky was very little help...he liked everything and didn't have a favorite at all!  I even went to an amazing website where you can click and drag fabrics to design your own bedding.  Nothing worked.  The poor girls I work with spent hours listening to me.  By the end of the day they were even online trying to help!  Finally, I decided to look for a design I liked and work backwards from there.  The modern designs really stood out and I liked the clean lines and bold colors.  Pinterest was my best friend during this phase.  I drew some inspiration from rooms like these from http://www.babylifestyles.com/  (another new favorite) and went from there. 

I finally found a few that I liked, but still couldn't decide.  As a last ditch effort I spent an afternoon on Etsy and came across a bumper that caught my eye.  After looking around at a few decorative accessories and getting approval from Rocky, I decided that this was the one.  It's simple with bold colors that will be easy to accent.  I'm getting the bumper and crib skirt in the tree material and then I will match my own sheets (I didn't love the ones in the picture).  I already have a plan!

I am also in love with funky modern mobiles and found one perfect for the nursery for $50!  After a little investigation I determined that I can totally make it myself so that is what I am going to do.  I'll use the main colors and then accent with a print to make it pop.  So easy!  When finished, I hope it looks something like this. 

No more baby blues!  I think all I needed was a project!

Introducing...

Well, the long anticipated day has finally arrived!  We went today to see the baby in 4D and find out the gender.  We got a good look at all the vital organs, tiny ribs, and long legs.  Then the tech tried to determine boy or girl and the umbilical cord was in the way.  Of course.  I managed to get this appointment moved up two weeks and now I was going to have to wait even longer to find out the gender.  The universe is cruel like that.  Eventually, the baby moved and we were able to get a good look... the "money shot" as my friend Tiffany calls it.

So, we would like to introduce JAKE to everyone! 

    

We are thrilled about having a healthy baby boy.  We would have been happy with a healthy girl, but this is like an added bonus!  He is right on track, although he looks long to me already.  It's early, only 18 weeks, so he still looks a little alien-ish, but it was so exciting to see him.  And he is a mover and a shaker.  No more calm baby.  He was kicking, flipping, and stretching the entire time we were watching him.  We have a lot a video from this appointment, but the 4D is the most amazing.   

 



Randomness from a Pregnant Brain

I think with every passing day my belly gets bigger and my brain gets mushier.  I am so forgetful Rocky makes me put reminders in my phone for everything.  Today I went to make lunch and by time I got to the kitchen 15 feet away I had forgotten what I was going in the kitchen to do.  Nice.  So this post is full of all the randomness that is my life (and brain) right now.  First, belly pic from 16 weeks. 

This year for Halloween I escaped dressing up once again.  Unfortunately, Aisha did not.  I bought her first ever shirt.  Poor thing.  I adopted her over 6 years ago and never in all that time has she ever worn a shirt.  However, I decided that since we were handing out candy this year, we needed to be a bit more festive.  She was so confused.  She walked around without bending her legs for some reason.  It was actually pretty funny, but I did feel a little bad for her.  When I took it off, she grabbed it out of my hands and took of running with it in her mouth.  She dropped it on her bed and laid on top of it while chewing on the corner.  I'm thinking she was trying to send a message... possible the same one I have been trying to send to Rocky about Halloween for years.  Still, she looked pretty cute.

 
So I avoided Halloween this year by suggesting Rocky go to Matagorda fishing.  As it turned out, our friend Tony was available so the boys set out for a guys' weekend.  I was left at home to watch trash tv, be lazy, organize, and be creative.  I decided to tackle a fall wreath.  I didn't want anything too over the top so I settled for a simple burlap wreath with scrap material flowers.  Super easy project that kept me busy while I sat at home and watched old episodes of Real Housewives. 

I think Aisha is figuring out that something is going on.  She has been more clingy than usual and has started letting herself into our bed.  I could possible be to blame for this a bit since I always let her sleep with me when Rocky is gone.  But it has gotten pretty bad.  Now she gets in bed even when he's home.  I usually go to be a lot earlier than he does so she just crawls on up.  When he gets ready to come to bed, there we are.  She even lays on his pillow now...

Back to pregnancy topics...cravings.  I still haven't had any real cravings, thank goodness.  So far, two main things stick out as cravings.  The first one is milk.  I drink so much milk.  Today, I finally stopped after my fourth glass because I was afraid I was going to grow utters (wait, that might have actually already happened...)  But seriously, I'm not sure if there is a limit to how much milk you should consume in one day.  It's 1% but still, I'm thinking the fat adds up.  Here is what is left of the gallon of milk I bought 4 days ago. 

My other major craving...beer.  I actually envisioned liking Rocky's tongue the other day while he was drinking a beer.  That's when I thought I might have an issue.  I haven't been indulging it other than a little tiny sip from time to time.  The closest I have gotten is O'Doul's and Buckler.  Of course after downing a few of those on top of pregnant brain, it's almost like I'm drunk.  

My other new favorite "drink" is Fre wine.  Not even close to the real thing, but it looks like wine and it's not water.  It allows me to participate in book club and girls' nights without feeling completely lame. 

Once more thing... I have been trying to stay active and in the gym, but I'm getting a little bored with it now that I don't have any workout buddies.  I've been running in the neighborhood, which helps, but now Aisha has trouble keeping up in her old age so I have to go alone, which sucks.  Randomly, I put in the Wii Sport disc the other day to see if there was something on there I could do to at least feel like I had done something besides sit on the sofa (which I had done plenty of) and  a new obsession was born.  Wii boxing is my new obsession.  I moved through the first few levels pretty quickly, but now I am having trouble with this one nasty biotch who keeps kicking my butt.  It is starting to really piss me off.  I spent a significant amount of time today trying to beat her, and now I cannot raise my arms over my head without moaning.  I AM SO SORE!  Maybe I am finding a productive outlet for my aggression and annoyance (one night this week Rocky was picking on me and I actually said to my husband, "You're going to get hit so you better tell me where you want it").  Trying to beat "Kathrin" is a bit more productive and a lot less domestic violence-ish.  And who knows, maybe I'll be ripped by time the baby comes.     

Pants on the Ground

Let me start by saying that skinny chick in the green on the right side of this page really needs to pack on a few pounds.  I've been waiting for her to actually look pregnant for weeks now and I'm getting a little annoyed. 

In reviewing the events from the past few months I have come to the conclusion that shopping (at least maternity shopping) is clearly not for me.  As a solution I have been taking advantage of an alternative since clearly my pants don't fit anymore.  A while back I bought a couple of belly bands, but I threw them in the drawer and hadn't given them too much thought since.  One day I wore one as a tank top under a dress, but only recently have they really proven their worth.  In case you are not up on your fat girl lingo, a belly band is an elastic band that goes around your waist and allows you to wear your non-preggo pants unbuttoned. 

I have been wearing my band everyday (except with jeans) but that is proving a temporary solution.  The pants I wore today were unzipped almost all the way and I began to think about the whole situation.  I am a teacher who works with children with my pants undone all day long.  Pair that with the torpedo nipples and on paper I am a headline waiting to happen.

With this new realization (and my pants squishing my belly) I have decided to attempt shopping one more time.  Rocky will be out of town this weekend so I am going to put my big girl panties on and head to the San Marcos outlets.  I don't know if venturing out shopping alone is the best idea considering the outcome of all my other shopping excursions, but I am left with few alternatives.  Pants must be bought.  Soc cross your fingers and say a prayer.  If this little outting does end in waterworks like all the others, my back-up plan is to touch up my make up and head over to the nearest shoe store.  At least my feet aren't fat...yet.      

Everything's Great, But I'm Not Happy

This past weekend Rocky went with me to the mall to return some preggo pants that I didn't like.  I tried on a million other pairs, but all of them made me look like a tick...short, round, and squatty.  In frustration I hung them all back up and told him we should just get a refund.  And then I burst into tears and had a total meltdown in the middle of the  mall.  He handled the return while I sobbed at the front of the store, pretending no one could tell because I put my sunglasses on.  I proceeded to cry hysterically all the way home and for about an hour after that.  Then yesterday I spent two and a half hours at the domain trying to find a dress for a wedding that didn't make me feel like a watermelon.  I finally settled on one (that I WILL be wearing Spanx under) and called it a day on the verge of tears AGAIN.  Funny how shopping now has that affect on me. 

It's a little ridiculous.  Not the crying, but being pregnant (gasp!).  I know, you aren't supposed to say it out loud, much less put it in print.  But it's true...and I think with all that's going on with my body, I deserve a good cry every now and then.

It isn't that I don't want the baby.  I'm over the moon about the baby.  In fact, give it to me now and let's call it a day.  The baby I love.  Being pregnant I hate.  I'm ready for the baby to live on the outside of me.  I get that I'm creating a new life, I have super powers, it's a miracle, blah, blah, blah.  I don't care.  It sucks.  And I don't want to hear how it will be worth it in the end.  I know... that's where I'd like to be now.  Bring on the sleepless nights, the two a.m. feedings, the diapers, the mess.  I will take it all right now and you can keep the bloating, the belly, the mood swings, the total loss of control of you own body.

And I know that I sound like a brat.  I have had the easiest pregnancy known to man and I appreciate that and feel lucky and blessed.  It still doesn't make me like it.  It's like having the flu.  If it only last a few days, you are extremely thankful that you weren't out a week or more with it.  It does not mean you are jumping up and down yelling, "Yay!  I have the flu.  Whoo hoo!"

So judge me if you must, but these are the facts.  And for my two friends who are closely watching me to see whether or not they want to embark on the journey, I want you to know that I wouldn't undo it.  I hate it, but it's a means to an end.  I definitely do not understand those women who are depressed after having the baby because they aren't pregnant anymore.  I assure you that will not me me.  We will be having a huge "Hurray the Baby is Out!" party.  Prepare yourselves.