I've been very satisfied with the entire OB department at the hospital for the most part, but I do have to stifle some out loud guffaws whenever the lone male is the lucky 'guy' to call me back for my appointment. Seriously, who did this poor kid piss off to be stationed in the lady parts department? I feel for him, I do. Let me give you a mental picture: tall, blonde, kinda goofy in a sweet, midwestern kind of way, looks about 14 (maybe). He's always smiling an awkward little smile, and I would be too if I were him.
So, at my 12 week appointment I was lucky enough to draw the goofy straw. As I was walking back to the exam room it did cross my mind that I can clearly remember events the year he must have been born a mere dozen years prior. I chuckled to myself. Then we began the questioning..
"So, how are you feeling" Um, fine, this is a regularly scheduled appointment after all. He continues to ask me silly questions while taking my blood pressure (I thought you weren't supposed to talk while your BP was being measured?).
"How many times have you felt the baby kick?" WHAT? This is a 12 week appointment. Who can do that? I certainly hope I'm incubating something special in there, but it would be the strongest jumbo shrimp in the world if I could feel it kicking around at 12 weeks. So I asked, 'excuse me?'.
"How many times have you felt the baby kick?" What I was thinking was 'Look, kid, I know that you haven't made it far enough in JR High to have health class yet, but come on.' But, I'm trying to be nice here, so I keep that to myself. What I said was "No, it is way too early for that....." and this rather benign response seemed enough to make him a little sad. I almost felt like I should buy him a copy of 'What to Expect' just so he'd understand why this wasn't such a good question, at least for several more weeks.
So we continued to chat with each other while he was taking my vitals. At one point, I thought to myself 'When you get home tonight, you should ask your big brother Doogie for some helpful information on topics such as this...' and actually chuckled to myself. He said "something funny, ma'am?". No, nothing at all. Thanks for asking!
More questions later, and I'd decided his time was up. In between a couple of questions, I did say to the poor lad "I'm sorry. If you're looking for bubbly cheerful pregnant lady you've got the wrong room. You walked into practical and pessimistic today." Though this was the least sarcastic thing I'd thought the entire appointment, the look of slight disappointment on his face seemed to indicate it was a good thing I'd kept the previous comments to myself.
I bet if he is old enough to have a girlfriend, she's really into scrapbooking....
Wednesday, September 29, 2010
Saturday, September 18, 2010
Throwdown: Buy Buy vs backwards R
On a recent trip back to the US, my husband and I decided to strap on our 'consumer culture' belts and brave two places that have always caused me to break into a cold sweat. Yes, that's right.... one afternoon it was the dual misery of Buy Buy Baby and Babies R Us.
Holy ridiculous crap, Batman!
Look, I'm more than willing to admit that as a modern, first-world occupying human, I am ridiculously coddled. I'm pretty sure that any of us reading this are ridiculously coddled..... and if we don't recognize that we're all trying to fool ourselves. But I'm starting to fear for the future if some of this stuff is for real. I've previously dissed on wipe warmers because, well, come on people. Even my mother, who is absolutely the sweetest person I've ever met (clearly I get my black humor from my father) gave a hearty guffaw when told of the existence of warmers for wipes. I believe her statement was something like "if the kid can't get used to a cold wipe on its butt, it has a lot of disappointment coming down the pike". Others have said something like "I had one of those - it's called rubbing the wipe together with my TWO HANDS". They come in portable versions for the car to boot! So, let's move on.
Personally, should we have a girl and she is born hairless and looking like a boy, you would sooner be able to kill me than strap one of those creepy looking headbands on her poor (likely splotchy) little head. Seriously, how hard is it to say 'she's a girl'? So hard that you'd rather trick your kid out in the equivalent of lacy baby bling? Nor do I think I turned out too badly (caustic sarcasm aside) and I sucked on plenty of shopping cart handles... so there will be no customized shopping cart couch for this kid. And, should precious' pacifier fall on the ground, you won't find me running back to the car to plug in my portable UV pacifier sterilization station. No, I did not just make that up. I'm also planning on testing bath water with my hand rather than using a temperature sensing rubber ducky. Maybe, if I avoid buying this crazy plastic crap, we'll save enough petroleum to drive around in our classic car one day.
You can gaze upon endless selections of this garish, emotionally driven excess at either of the establishments listed above but honestly they do differ. As disgusting as the name of Buy Buy Baby really happens to be, it seems to be less house of baby horrors and more like a Bed Bath & Beyond for the not yet truly mobile types, and I suppose it should be as the two are from the same parent company. There were actually far more options in both size and design, and many more useful products to lay hands on in the 'BBB', complete with products made of actual natural materials and not just plastics. It was quite amusing to watch my husband test drive strollers up the aisle. Babies R Us, however, was another story. This seemed to be a place where plastic was king, and size mattered. Sort of like shopping for a stroller by comparing the self propelled versions of an Excursion and a Hummer, actually. It struck me as a bit of a primer/feeder for the equally nauseating Toys R Us that so conveniently seemed to be colonizing one side of the store. It made me think they're trying to hook you and your kid on cheap plastic young so you'll be too addicted to say no by the time you're buying actual toys. You know, first one's always free......
I've decided to start looking at things through a Michael Pollan style pair of glasses 'If your grandmother wouldn't recognize that as a tool for baby care, then don't buy it'. This doesn't mean that there aren't some pretty cool things out there, but they seem to be improvements on things that have been used in the past, rather than inventions for our hyper sterilized, hyper gadget driven marketplace.
First stop, an internet thrift store!
Holy ridiculous crap, Batman!
Look, I'm more than willing to admit that as a modern, first-world occupying human, I am ridiculously coddled. I'm pretty sure that any of us reading this are ridiculously coddled..... and if we don't recognize that we're all trying to fool ourselves. But I'm starting to fear for the future if some of this stuff is for real. I've previously dissed on wipe warmers because, well, come on people. Even my mother, who is absolutely the sweetest person I've ever met (clearly I get my black humor from my father) gave a hearty guffaw when told of the existence of warmers for wipes. I believe her statement was something like "if the kid can't get used to a cold wipe on its butt, it has a lot of disappointment coming down the pike". Others have said something like "I had one of those - it's called rubbing the wipe together with my TWO HANDS". They come in portable versions for the car to boot! So, let's move on.
Personally, should we have a girl and she is born hairless and looking like a boy, you would sooner be able to kill me than strap one of those creepy looking headbands on her poor (likely splotchy) little head. Seriously, how hard is it to say 'she's a girl'? So hard that you'd rather trick your kid out in the equivalent of lacy baby bling? Nor do I think I turned out too badly (caustic sarcasm aside) and I sucked on plenty of shopping cart handles... so there will be no customized shopping cart couch for this kid. And, should precious' pacifier fall on the ground, you won't find me running back to the car to plug in my portable UV pacifier sterilization station. No, I did not just make that up. I'm also planning on testing bath water with my hand rather than using a temperature sensing rubber ducky. Maybe, if I avoid buying this crazy plastic crap, we'll save enough petroleum to drive around in our classic car one day.
You can gaze upon endless selections of this garish, emotionally driven excess at either of the establishments listed above but honestly they do differ. As disgusting as the name of Buy Buy Baby really happens to be, it seems to be less house of baby horrors and more like a Bed Bath & Beyond for the not yet truly mobile types, and I suppose it should be as the two are from the same parent company. There were actually far more options in both size and design, and many more useful products to lay hands on in the 'BBB', complete with products made of actual natural materials and not just plastics. It was quite amusing to watch my husband test drive strollers up the aisle. Babies R Us, however, was another story. This seemed to be a place where plastic was king, and size mattered. Sort of like shopping for a stroller by comparing the self propelled versions of an Excursion and a Hummer, actually. It struck me as a bit of a primer/feeder for the equally nauseating Toys R Us that so conveniently seemed to be colonizing one side of the store. It made me think they're trying to hook you and your kid on cheap plastic young so you'll be too addicted to say no by the time you're buying actual toys. You know, first one's always free......
I've decided to start looking at things through a Michael Pollan style pair of glasses 'If your grandmother wouldn't recognize that as a tool for baby care, then don't buy it'. This doesn't mean that there aren't some pretty cool things out there, but they seem to be improvements on things that have been used in the past, rather than inventions for our hyper sterilized, hyper gadget driven marketplace.
First stop, an internet thrift store!
Wednesday, September 8, 2010
The nausea returns
So, I've been feeling quite a bit less nauseous the last couple of weeks, for which I am extremely thankful as it seemed to clear up right before our whirlwind trip to the US.... where I have been exposed to the full force of the insanity that is the marketing campaign geared to making you feel guilty if you don't spend every last cent you've got on either 'the pregnancy experience' or your kid.
First of all, I will say that I enjoy a beautifully made, quality piece of clothing. I also don't mind spending some money on clothes provided they are well made, classic, and are going to last me years and years. What I do mind is being asked to pay a tariff for the "privilege" of a giant elastic body condom where a waist band should be. Although I realize this clothing modification is going to be necessary for likely the next year-ish, I don't happen to think a year is a terribly long time (despite my resignation to this next year, in particular, seeming to be an eternity). I absolutely am not willing to fork over serious clothes money for something that's not going to be with me for more than one congressional term, nor are you ever going to convince me that these clothes are more expensive to make. I'm fairly certain that to whichever Indonesian 12 year old is sewing my shorts, the elastic waistband is far less of a challenge than an actual waist with a zipper and button. In fact, I bet the maternity fabrication line is coveted duty, because by the time I really need your handiwork, I won't be able to SEE that you've double sewn the seam in just the wrong place, so you can relax a little.
So, perhaps I should have apologized to the sales lady upon walking into one of the mommy stores. But any urge to do that was stifled by the fact that she was a tiny tiny thing. I know we cannot hire based on physicality but it is a bit of a mind bender to walk into a store for pregnant people and be greeted by a woman who on her worst, most sodium bloated, humidity swollen, carbo loaded day would have no problem sliding into a size 2. Seriously, I appreciate the black humor here but, really? The least she could have done is wear one of those strap on "bumps" that they happily offer to let you try on. Again with the 'someone is laughing at this, but it sure isn't me' moment; you think I want to make that happen any sooner? Um, thanks but no thanks lady. Also, I'd just like to point out that in particular, in these type of stores, it might be nice to stock clothes that span seasons. I understand the shift to the new season is necessary, but when your demographic is motivated as much if not more by growing girth as it is by the swing to fall/spring/whatever it might be very very considerate to stock more than five pairs of shorts when the forecast is still for temperatures in the high 80's. I'm just sayin', little lady who is so cheerful she might be Rachel Ray's cousin with a tapeworm, you might have sold me more than one pair of shorts if you had had more than one pair of shorts for me to try on, despite my aversion to your criminally high prices.
Coming soon: I enter a store called Buy Buy Baby and do not projectile vomit, although it did require some discipline.
First of all, I will say that I enjoy a beautifully made, quality piece of clothing. I also don't mind spending some money on clothes provided they are well made, classic, and are going to last me years and years. What I do mind is being asked to pay a tariff for the "privilege" of a giant elastic body condom where a waist band should be. Although I realize this clothing modification is going to be necessary for likely the next year-ish, I don't happen to think a year is a terribly long time (despite my resignation to this next year, in particular, seeming to be an eternity). I absolutely am not willing to fork over serious clothes money for something that's not going to be with me for more than one congressional term, nor are you ever going to convince me that these clothes are more expensive to make. I'm fairly certain that to whichever Indonesian 12 year old is sewing my shorts, the elastic waistband is far less of a challenge than an actual waist with a zipper and button. In fact, I bet the maternity fabrication line is coveted duty, because by the time I really need your handiwork, I won't be able to SEE that you've double sewn the seam in just the wrong place, so you can relax a little.
So, perhaps I should have apologized to the sales lady upon walking into one of the mommy stores. But any urge to do that was stifled by the fact that she was a tiny tiny thing. I know we cannot hire based on physicality but it is a bit of a mind bender to walk into a store for pregnant people and be greeted by a woman who on her worst, most sodium bloated, humidity swollen, carbo loaded day would have no problem sliding into a size 2. Seriously, I appreciate the black humor here but, really? The least she could have done is wear one of those strap on "bumps" that they happily offer to let you try on. Again with the 'someone is laughing at this, but it sure isn't me' moment; you think I want to make that happen any sooner? Um, thanks but no thanks lady. Also, I'd just like to point out that in particular, in these type of stores, it might be nice to stock clothes that span seasons. I understand the shift to the new season is necessary, but when your demographic is motivated as much if not more by growing girth as it is by the swing to fall/spring/whatever it might be very very considerate to stock more than five pairs of shorts when the forecast is still for temperatures in the high 80's. I'm just sayin', little lady who is so cheerful she might be Rachel Ray's cousin with a tapeworm, you might have sold me more than one pair of shorts if you had had more than one pair of shorts for me to try on, despite my aversion to your criminally high prices.
Coming soon: I enter a store called Buy Buy Baby and do not projectile vomit, although it did require some discipline.
Friday, August 27, 2010
"She's pregnant, she hasn't lost her mind!"
"She's pregnant, she hasn't lost her mind" my husband quipped when given the choice between the calm, quiet side of the pool complex or the slightly out-of-control kiddie area. "I'm not going over there until I have to" I added. AH, it's begun.
For years I searched for a quick deflector to the question "Do you have any kids?". I finally settled on the simple, concise "I'm allergic" response. Not too off-putting, a little funny, it worked like a charm. I never have been a fan of anonymous children, especially the screaming, hyper active variety. Put them in groups and I'd slowly back away, much like the average response to a wasp's nest. If they give you an immediate headache, you must be allergic, right? Like cats, my reaction to kids varied; some produced no allergic response and were actually pretty fun to hang around with, but this was not the usual effect- and never with those under the age of 1. And although I never tried it, I had the sense that most people would have been quite unhappy with me trying to coax their little one to try a quick tug on the catnip to quiet them down.......
Well, when you decide to create one of these little beings yourself, things go down the tubes fast. As in, it's straight to day care in a mini-van fast. Just because someone has one cat does not mean they want to become a crazy cat lady....... and just because I've decided to have a child doesn't mean that I'm going to start wanting interaction with all of them.
A couple of weeks ago, my husband and I had an appointment for an ultrasound. Because of where we're living, this turned into a group field trip of two families to the same office, sheparded by one of the liasons for the hospital. Turns out, this other family decided they all needed to come on the field trip; mom, dad, and three kids. When we arrived at the cramped downtown location, the mom began to pull all her assorted kid accessories (including the two kids, twins) out of the vehicle, much to the wide-eyed amazement of the liason. He stopped her before she could get her SUV sized stroller out of the car, pointing out that it would not fit in the elevator to the doctor's office. I was stuck in a quasi-daydream to keep myself from being nervous about the upcoming US, and was only sort of paying attention to this.
Quickly sucked back into reality, I noticed her walking towards us with a look of purpose in her eye and a kid in a carseat extended in front of her. "Excuse me, would you please carry my baby?", in the sort of way that your husband will ask you "do you want any ice cream?", already assuming the answer to be yes.
Apparently the mental responses of "What the F*** leads you to think I would want to hold your kid just because you didn't think about logistics before you decided to come to overcrowded downtown with your giant kid carriers and your humongous stroller?" and "Oh S*** she thinks that just because 1)I'm a woman and 2) I'm pregnant I love all these little monsters; I am so screwed for the next 20 years!" were quite clearly transmitted to the look on my face. She found another baby sherpa and this didn't bother me. At the time.
Then I started thinking about it a little bit and began to feel sort of bad for not agreeing to help her (not that I disagreed verbally, but my husband said the writing was on the wall, er face, in capital letters). Not that my feelings were any different, and not that I didn't feel that I deserved the right to have them, but I did a little projection. Certainly, there will be times in the future when I'll need help. I'll try to minimize this by hopefully being lucky (I'd like to say smart but come on..) enough to bring what I need with me, or tailor what I pack to the venue at hand. I just hope that when I do need help, I don't automatically assume that women, due simply to possesion of breasts and ovaries, are secretly pining for the chance to care for my little cherub....... and pay attention to the looks and body language of the people around me before choosing my victim. And I'm starting to think it might not be a bad idea to bring little airline bottles of liquid reward to thank these strangers for their efforts.
Still, I fear a bit for my sanity over the next little while. I mean, I love my dog, and I love some of the dogs that belong to my friends, or some of the other dogs at the dog park. But I don't love all dogs, not all at once, especially in big groups. The same goes for kids. I am certain that I will love the dickens out of this kid, but I am also equally certain that this will not be a feeling that will convey to the masses. There are lots of really unbearable children out there, and that's not going to change. The thing that will change is the speed at which I am able to back away.........
For years I searched for a quick deflector to the question "Do you have any kids?". I finally settled on the simple, concise "I'm allergic" response. Not too off-putting, a little funny, it worked like a charm. I never have been a fan of anonymous children, especially the screaming, hyper active variety. Put them in groups and I'd slowly back away, much like the average response to a wasp's nest. If they give you an immediate headache, you must be allergic, right? Like cats, my reaction to kids varied; some produced no allergic response and were actually pretty fun to hang around with, but this was not the usual effect- and never with those under the age of 1. And although I never tried it, I had the sense that most people would have been quite unhappy with me trying to coax their little one to try a quick tug on the catnip to quiet them down.......
Well, when you decide to create one of these little beings yourself, things go down the tubes fast. As in, it's straight to day care in a mini-van fast. Just because someone has one cat does not mean they want to become a crazy cat lady....... and just because I've decided to have a child doesn't mean that I'm going to start wanting interaction with all of them.
A couple of weeks ago, my husband and I had an appointment for an ultrasound. Because of where we're living, this turned into a group field trip of two families to the same office, sheparded by one of the liasons for the hospital. Turns out, this other family decided they all needed to come on the field trip; mom, dad, and three kids. When we arrived at the cramped downtown location, the mom began to pull all her assorted kid accessories (including the two kids, twins) out of the vehicle, much to the wide-eyed amazement of the liason. He stopped her before she could get her SUV sized stroller out of the car, pointing out that it would not fit in the elevator to the doctor's office. I was stuck in a quasi-daydream to keep myself from being nervous about the upcoming US, and was only sort of paying attention to this.
Quickly sucked back into reality, I noticed her walking towards us with a look of purpose in her eye and a kid in a carseat extended in front of her. "Excuse me, would you please carry my baby?", in the sort of way that your husband will ask you "do you want any ice cream?", already assuming the answer to be yes.
Apparently the mental responses of "What the F*** leads you to think I would want to hold your kid just because you didn't think about logistics before you decided to come to overcrowded downtown with your giant kid carriers and your humongous stroller?" and "Oh S*** she thinks that just because 1)I'm a woman and 2) I'm pregnant I love all these little monsters; I am so screwed for the next 20 years!" were quite clearly transmitted to the look on my face. She found another baby sherpa and this didn't bother me. At the time.
Then I started thinking about it a little bit and began to feel sort of bad for not agreeing to help her (not that I disagreed verbally, but my husband said the writing was on the wall, er face, in capital letters). Not that my feelings were any different, and not that I didn't feel that I deserved the right to have them, but I did a little projection. Certainly, there will be times in the future when I'll need help. I'll try to minimize this by hopefully being lucky (I'd like to say smart but come on..) enough to bring what I need with me, or tailor what I pack to the venue at hand. I just hope that when I do need help, I don't automatically assume that women, due simply to possesion of breasts and ovaries, are secretly pining for the chance to care for my little cherub....... and pay attention to the looks and body language of the people around me before choosing my victim. And I'm starting to think it might not be a bad idea to bring little airline bottles of liquid reward to thank these strangers for their efforts.
Still, I fear a bit for my sanity over the next little while. I mean, I love my dog, and I love some of the dogs that belong to my friends, or some of the other dogs at the dog park. But I don't love all dogs, not all at once, especially in big groups. The same goes for kids. I am certain that I will love the dickens out of this kid, but I am also equally certain that this will not be a feeling that will convey to the masses. There are lots of really unbearable children out there, and that's not going to change. The thing that will change is the speed at which I am able to back away.........
Monday, August 23, 2010
One Upside....
Thursday, August 19, 2010
Pregnancy: FDA approved
Congratulations! You've just been prescribed the pregnancy pill. Continue to take this pill for the next 9ish months and you will have grown a human. You can expect to experience a healthy glow, a recalibration of prior capabilities, and an overflow of attention from others. We hope you enjoy your experience.
SIDE EFFECTS:
Now, nobody likes to talk about these, ahem, unpleasantries. This is why they are usually in small print, underneath the big glossy photos of the beautiful, healthy, skinny (yes, even in the pregnancy magazines) people in all the advertising. Sad to say, some if not all of these are likely to afflict you. Intensity may vary.
Acne: Haven't had to worry about where to find the Neutrogina in the grocery store since you were 18? Ha! Start looking. That "glow" those devils talk about is actually your body kicking its skin oil production into early teenage mode. Fan-freaking-tastic. Your really smart friends, who have been pregnant before, will notice your (as ever) futile attempts to cover up your new issue and figure out what you've got going on. Everyone else will take one look at you and pass immediate judgment on your skills with personal hygene.
Memory/Cognition loss: Now, you may be used to being a quick thinker. And, I'm sure there was someting I was planning to say about that but 1) I forgot what it was and 2) sentence formulation and language skills overall have taken a dive. As in: your brain may have slowed down so significantly you could probably watch an episode of The View and be pleasantly entertained rather than willed to weep gently for the state of your country.
Smell: Were you one of those people who never noticed life's little olfactory stimuli? You will now begin to notice that, in fact, the world stinks. Oh yeah. Hmmm, that guy next to you on the train, or in line at the store? Previously you would not have known he didn't shower after his lunch break at the gym but now he will smell like a cab driver from an equatorial country. In August. And you'll begin to wish for a sterile lock on your trash can. Even if all you had for dinner last night was popcorn you will swear that the mold responsible for penecillin's evil twin has sprouted in less than 8 hours. On trash day, the world is your oyster. Your fetid, decaying in the 90 degree sun oyster.
Attention: Congratulations! Any and all queries are now on the table. Previously well-brought up adults would certainly hesitate to ask you many of the things they now view as appropriate dinner conversation. You will be expected to indulge their insensitive curiosities with every detail. In addition, the comments on your physicality start NOW.
Many more side effects are likely and, as always, largely unavoidable. Enjoy!
SIDE EFFECTS:
Now, nobody likes to talk about these, ahem, unpleasantries. This is why they are usually in small print, underneath the big glossy photos of the beautiful, healthy, skinny (yes, even in the pregnancy magazines) people in all the advertising. Sad to say, some if not all of these are likely to afflict you. Intensity may vary.
Acne: Haven't had to worry about where to find the Neutrogina in the grocery store since you were 18? Ha! Start looking. That "glow" those devils talk about is actually your body kicking its skin oil production into early teenage mode. Fan-freaking-tastic. Your really smart friends, who have been pregnant before, will notice your (as ever) futile attempts to cover up your new issue and figure out what you've got going on. Everyone else will take one look at you and pass immediate judgment on your skills with personal hygene.
Memory/Cognition loss: Now, you may be used to being a quick thinker. And, I'm sure there was someting I was planning to say about that but 1) I forgot what it was and 2) sentence formulation and language skills overall have taken a dive. As in: your brain may have slowed down so significantly you could probably watch an episode of The View and be pleasantly entertained rather than willed to weep gently for the state of your country.
Smell: Were you one of those people who never noticed life's little olfactory stimuli? You will now begin to notice that, in fact, the world stinks. Oh yeah. Hmmm, that guy next to you on the train, or in line at the store? Previously you would not have known he didn't shower after his lunch break at the gym but now he will smell like a cab driver from an equatorial country. In August. And you'll begin to wish for a sterile lock on your trash can. Even if all you had for dinner last night was popcorn you will swear that the mold responsible for penecillin's evil twin has sprouted in less than 8 hours. On trash day, the world is your oyster. Your fetid, decaying in the 90 degree sun oyster.
Attention: Congratulations! Any and all queries are now on the table. Previously well-brought up adults would certainly hesitate to ask you many of the things they now view as appropriate dinner conversation. You will be expected to indulge their insensitive curiosities with every detail. In addition, the comments on your physicality start NOW.
Many more side effects are likely and, as always, largely unavoidable. Enjoy!
Tuesday, August 17, 2010
ooh, ooh! Mom, I want THAT name!
Yes, well. So I changed the name...... I'm pregnant. Leave me alone.
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