Paul Reiser, Oreo's and Mother's Day...

At church, we had a Mother's Day Celebration and a lady in our church asked me to speak.  The following is what I had to say on being a new mom...

 

When Ms. Mary Kay asked me to speak about being a new parent, specifically a new mother, I wasn’t sure what I wanted to say.

My first thought was to compare parenthood to what I imagine living in a frat house would be like...  There are bottles strewn about the house on a pretty regular basis, the laundry is mountainous, overflowing the hampers daily.  We sleep pretty much wherever we land and vomit is a real possibility at any given time.

My second thought was to talk about how parenthood, for me at least, has been rather instinctual.  I can attest that becoming a mother has brought up some pretty primal urges in me that on recent occasion has given me great pause and stirred up some emotional reactions that I was not prepared to feel at all.  Just the other day, at a family reunion of all places, I had to seriously fight the urge to claw a little girl’s eyes out because she was getting a little too 'handsy' with Elizabeth, either that or hide Elizabeth under a bush... At the end of the day I’m not much better than those ill old ‘Mama’ cats we had growing up after they had had a litter of kittens.

But when Ms. Mary Kay asked me to speak about being a new parent the only thing I could think about was this quote by Paul Reiser that I recently stumbled across in an email... that and an Oreo Cookie.

Reiser says, “People often ask me, "What's the difference between couplehood and babyhood?" In a word? Moisture. Everything in my life is now more moist. Between your spittle, your diapers, your spit-up and drool, you got your baby food, your wipes... your leaky bottles, sweaty baby backs, and numerous other untraceable sources--all creating an ever-present moistness in my life, which heretofore was mainly dry.”

I love this quote, not only because it is true... on any given day there is some sort of baby-by-product covering me in some capacity... but I love this quote for its deeper meaning.  Which brings me to the Oreo Cookie.

As we all know, an Oreo Cookie has three parts-- two dry cookies and one creamy (moist) center.

Before Elizabeth, I like to think of my life as the cookie part of the Oreo.  For this metaphor to make sense, I need you to pretend with me that you’ve never had a fully intact Oreo cookie.   If all you’ve ever had was the outside, dry cookies of the Oreo without the creamy center, you’d probably find the cookies to be a perfectly lovely and an adequate snack.  And if you’ve never had the fully intact Oreo, then you’d probably be perfectly happy with eating just the plain cookies for the rest of your life.  And that was how I felt.  I was perfectly content being a plain, dry cookie... And being a plain, dry cookie was good stuff too.

But since Elizabeth has entered into our lives, I can’t imagine just going back to being just a  plain, old dry cookie.  Elizabeth is our creamy center and I’m just going to end the debate right now, the creamy center of the Oreo Cookie is the best part of the cookie, it’s what makes the Oreo an Oreo.  It’s what’s makes it special.  And after you’ve experienced the creamy center of an Oreo Cookie, you no longer think so highly of just the plain cookies anymore.  In other words...my old life was great, but my new life as a parent is so much more fulfilling.

So to sum up... parenthood can be compared to a countless many things, but in the end, being a parent has added a degree of moisture that changes the components of life from ordinary to extraordinary.

Maternity Clothing...

Last Thursday night as I was preparing myself for bed, excited that Friday would be the last day of school for all the little school children, panic struck.

My last pair of jeans that still fit were in the dirty clothes hamper-- the hamper I intended to empty and wash and didn't.  I've been in the middle of moving my office, and wearing jeans on Friday-- the only day of the week that we can legally wear jeans-- seemed practical. 

So Thursday night, I tried on a pair of jeans that I thought might still fit.  They didn't-- unless I used a rubber band to loop through the button hole to keep them from gapping open.  I then tried on a few dresses.  They still fit and looked good-- but moving my office in a dress didn't seem like a good idea and I'd have to shave my legs.

So I dug down into the depths of the dirty clothes hamper and liberated the magical jeans that seem to always fit, no matter how big my belly gets.  I had no choice.  And I reckoned myself to the idea that it was probably time to go face my fear:  Maternity Clothes Shopping.

Because it was the last day of school, my principal let us out a little early.  So at 3:00pm Friday afternoon, my mother and I headed off to the shopping mall to find me some pants that fit my expanding waist... and maybe a dress because next weekend I'm directing a wedding and I'd like, very much, to not look frumpy.

The maternity store is much different than the stores I normally shop.  The stores I used to shop-- Before Baby Bump (BBB)-- were always nice to me and would always ask if I needed help or if I wanted to get a fitting room started.  But because I shopped there often, most of the time I didn't need help because I knew my size and what I liked and most importantly, I knew what looked good on me.

But at the maternity clothing store, the sales associates where interested in much, much more.  "When's your due date?"  "Is this your first time being pregnant?"  "What are you interested in purchasing today?"  "Let me explain to you how our sizing works."  And that was upon entering the store. 

Generally I like to get the layout of the store first... especially a store I've never been in before.  Then I like to make my first pass, making note of things I like-- things that strike me-- and then on my second pass I start to make my selections for either purchasing or trying on.  I like to have time on my own to think things out without much interuption. 

Before I knew what was going on, I was in the dressing room and feeling like a werido because all of the pants have this strange stretchy top and no buttons and no zippers-- none of the markings of real jeans or shorts or pants.

I used to joke about elastic waisted pants-- how silly they were-- and now that is basically all I have as choices... at least for the next little while.

I also have never been so attended while in a dressing room-- not even when I was picking out wedding dresses.  It seemed like every few seconds some sales girl was asking me if they could get me more sizes-- which was a joke, because everything was too big--even the smallest size.  They wanted to know how things were fitting... if it was too big or too small.  They wanted to reassure me that I looked good, even if I didn't.  I don't like being patronized...

So I came away with two rather attractive tops... a pair of Seven Maternity jeans and a pair of black maternity pants.  I'm not excited about wearing the stretchy top pants-- especially this summer-- but at least the tops are nice looking and stylish.

Now that I have my barings, I think I might be able to tackle shopping in the maternity department a little more often or even from the privacy of my home, thanks to the internet.  I'm still not out of my magical jeans, but when the time comes, at least I'm sort of prepared.

EWT

All's Well Now that the End's Well...

So I made my second visit to the Reproductive Endocrinologist's office this past week.  My monthly, well-- sometimes monthly friend came to visit me and because of that little visit, I had to go get a baseline ultrasound to see if I had anything wrong with my lady parts.

Apparently, the end is alright.  Which was a relief, because I tend to think the worst in all situations and knowing my luck... I thought I'd be eat up with cysts or crud or at least a small collection of cancerous tumors.  But I wasn't and so I was thrilled.

So thrilled in fact that on the way home, well actually on the way back to work, I completely forgot about where I was at and got a little lost.  But in my defense, I was really relieved and I was listening to Bob and Showgram on G105, so it wasn't completely all my fault.  The one time I didn't bring the GPS.  But no worries, I found my way back to I-440 and got back on track in no time, after making a very panicky phone call to the Hubster.

It is a little scary to think about how easy it is to slip into auto-pilot mode when you are driving, isn't it?  I was talking to one of my friends yesterday about how weird it was when I first moved into the house the Hubster and I live in now.  Every so often, I would wind up back at my parents house and I'd have no idea how I got there.  Or like when I have a meeting in Smithfield and go there straight from home-- sometimes I'll just take the road to work instead of staying on 701.  Old habits die hard, don't they?

I have to go back to the RE again pretty soon... hopefully this next time I'll pay more attention to where I'm going.