Budgeting the expense of motherhood on an introverts salary

I’m selfish with my time; even more so after having a baby.

These days, Quiet, reflective moments are understandably few and far between. So when I do come across an additional 30 minutes of the day that I don’t owe to anyone, or need to use productively; It’s like finding a $50 bill in the back pocket of a pair of jeans; I don’t want to tell anyone, or have to give it up.

People always tell me that I couldn’t possibly be an introvert, because I’m generally a loud, high-strung, a-hole (kind of like a Chihuahua, If I’m being honest.) The problem with this assumption is that a lot of introverts are generally outgoing – Under the right circumstances, when they feel like they have something meaningful to contribute to their surroundings; or know the people that they are with, and feel comfortable around them. That being said, I have to mentally prepare myself for social gatherings, or places where I know I am going to have to engage more than usual with others. If I’m too quiet, it’s rude. If I talk too much, I am prone to exhausting myself too quickly. ‘Turning on’ for these situations takes a lot of work; and by the time we get home, I normally need some time alone to regroup and recharge.

Enter: Offspring.

There are no keywords such as regroup, recharge, quiet time, me, introvert, alone….when you have one kid, let alone multiples. All of that silly nonsense goes right out the window when you are at the constant beck and call of tiny shrieking human(s); who by the way, could give zero pieces of fudge in the world if you are emotionally drained, or overstimulated by life. Some days, the energy you are required to exert greatly exceeds what you feel you can physically give; setting off the inner ping! of your ‘had it up to here’ maintenance light, warning that you’re running low on, well, everything; and to tread lightly.

Don’t get me wrong. Being a parent has been, hands down, the coolest chapter in my life by far. However, I would be lying if I said that biding my time between being a stellar mom, while also trying to be an equally decent partner, friend, sister, daughter, etc…was not the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do; because it is. So. Hard.

I sometimes have to choose between not seeing a friend for a few months, or even longer; so that I can fit in spending time with my family and kid instead. Or, In lieu of mindlessly sitting in the quiet for an hour (heaven) I need to step up and be the girlfriend my boyfriend signed up to do life with. The one that used to have endless amounts of oomph, and put him on a pedestal. I know that some of my relationships have certainly suffered in the wake of motherhood; luckily, the ones that truly matter, pick up right where they left off, no matter what major life events take place.

None the less, I try to wake up each morning with a grateful heart; reminding myself that I’m lucky enough to be gifted genuine relationships to fight for in the first place. That in itself makes me strive a little harder to ensure that they are well nurtured and supported, even if my efforts fall short at times. 

And while this is a lovely takeaway on spreading my time more evenly; None of it does any good If I’m not paying enough attention to my own respite. 

Completely random side note: The ‘stretched-thin’ vibe of this post seems eerily similar to the occupational hazards of Stretch Armstrong. I do not envy that guy.

Also, just for shits and gigs; here is the link to the Myers-Briggs test. I do this every now and again to gauge where I’m at socially. (other than awkward. I’m always that.)

Happy ‘me time’ Hunting!

Why you can’t ignore mental health

Today is National Mental Health day. These beautifully depicted pieces of art, as expressive as they are; don’t begin to touch on the grave reality that accompanies the incessant drawl of negative, and sometimes scary, inner dialogue of those that struggle with their mental health.

No one is expected to be knowledgeable about the intricate details of every mood disorder, disease, term, or association related to the mental health community; Myself included. This does not mean we shouldn’t continue to advocate what we do know, and that is ourselves. We all signify, and can relate to, at least one of the aforementioned visuals above. Whether we are raging an internal war to come to terms with our own admissions, or we bear witness to the public battle of someone we love, and hold dear to our hearts. Tolerance cannot blossom under ignorance; solidarity and compassion start home.

• Be bold, brave, and forthcoming in what you are experiencing. Don’t burrow further into your self-deprication.
• Ask questions about things that you don’t understand, or feel unsure of.
• Join a community that will embrace you during your darkest moments, and guide you through them.
• Confide in those that actively choose to rally alongside you every day.
• Seeking help does not equal seeking attention.
• Remove yourself from relationships that breed negative reactions to your pain.
• Do not fear the stigma attached to labels; or the stereo-types made about them. Instead, lead as an example to the change that they so desperately need.

I have listed some helpful resources below if you are looking to find out more about the state of your own mental health, or maybe someone you know.

Full disclosure: I have struggled openly throughout my life with some degree of Depression, Anxiety, Hypochondria, psychosomatic disorder, and Postpartum Anxiety. I wake up every morning not knowing what the day will bring in terms of my moods, or who it will affect. I make jokes, and often use sarcasm, to lighten the burden of carrying around the heaviness of these afflictions; and by the evening; I find that I feel completely drained, void of anything left to give emotionally, or mentally.

Life is hard, but you don’t have to go at it alone.

You are loved. Deeply, Sincerely, guaranteed without a doubt, reach for the stars, over the moon, world-series kind of loved.

Further information and resources:

1. Mental Health Arizona
2. Mental Health Gov
3. 13 Mental health resources that are absolutely free
4. Free peer counseling chat
5. Suicide prevention lifeline
6. 45 ways to cheer up on a bad day
7. baby animals on Youtube
8. Finding Therapy – Mental Health America
9. 100 quotes about life that will uplift and inspire you
10. 9 videos to watch to calm an anxiety attack

Disclaimer: I do not own or have rights to the photographs above. They belong exclusively to and deserve full (thanks) credit to Sonaksha Iyengar. Please go to his Facebook page for more of his wonderful artwork.

The day you chose us.

One year ago today, the direction of my life took a fast pass from comfortably mundane, to infinitely purpose-driven. The foundation that Trav and I had spent the last 5 years diligently building would now require more pillars to stand on than ever before. We both took a leap of faith, and dove blindly into the depths of parenthood, ready to take on this new chapter in our lives; both equally elated and terrified.

Now, looking back at the blessings that came in the form of a mostly uneventful pregnancy and delivery, the strength and outpouring of support from our family and friends, and the overwhelming sense of unconditional love parenting has bestowed upon us; it’s hard to imagine what life was like before.

Before the dirty diapers, or the unexpected seamlessness that came with the transition from two to three.

Before the long, late nights, that still feel like they’ll never end, or the piles of spit-up soaked laundry that multiplies by the hour.

Before Googling the different cries of newborns, and what they mean, or the various shades of the rainbow a babies poop can be and why.

Before the constant worrying about growth charts, milestones, and comparisons, or the gradual thickening of your skin after you’ve built up an impressive tolerance against parent-shaming, and the judgmental opinions and side-eye it brings.

Before you knew the inexplicable excitement and pride you felt when your little one managed to stick its foot in his or her mouth for the first time, or reacted to your facial expressions with the gummiest of smiles and wonderment.

Before recognizing the rage that brings the overwhelming desire to roundhouse your partner in the face at 3 AM, because they are pretending to sleep, when you know damn well that they can hear the shrieks of hunger from the other room just as much as you can. Two can play this game, kemosahbee.

Before you had to censor your words, actions, music and movie selections, and overall ‘R’ rated tendencies, due to being constantly surrounded by tiny mimes that are also part-time parrots. 

Before the constant inner back-and-forth between never wanting to be away from your little angel, to needing a break before you pull your now gray hairs out; and then realizing you can’t believe how much you miss them. So on, and so forth.

The essence of who we were, and what we knew before our daughter, pales in comparison to who we will forever strive to be because of her influence in our lives. She solidifies the weaknesses in the both of us; fills them with contentment, and hushes the bitter undertones of our inner demons.

Thank you, Charlie, for taking our once frantic “what are we going to do” and forever turning it into “whatever tomorrow brings.”

 

 

 

Sometimes, I want better landscaping.

I feel petty admitting this; but I’m jealous of half the moms I know.

The propensity I have towards trying to make my grass as green as the other Instagram/Facebook yards is sort of disgusting. Scratch that; it’s really disgusting. Since when should a picture of a naturally lit dining room send someone into a fit of irrational FOMO?

It’s kind of weird thinking about the lengths I go to in order to take the perfect picture. On the side of a busy road, holding my baby in one arm, the selfie stick attached to the other, leaning slightly to the left to get the right angle; all because this sign said something ironic (quite literally), and would be perfectly paired with the ‘Nashville’ filter. Meanwhile my significant other waits in the car because he would love nothing more than to pretend he doesn’t know me.

Okay, I’m severely exaggerating. But isn’t it kind of funny that it doesn’t seem that far off? Mind you, I’d never put my baby at risk doing something that freaking stupid (So calm the hell down, Betty tattle-tits. You don’t need to call social services on me, take a seat.) But I have done some pretty hilarious poses and taken many a selfie in places I know people were giving me curious side-eye; just to prove I was doing something cool, somewhere Instagram worthy.

Honestly, in a majority of the photos I post; there is a precious amount of lighting, effort and time involved; and about 150 previously unapproved shots.

95% of the time, I am hovering over my daughter making sounds at pitches I didn’t even know I could hit; just so she’ll give me some half-ass grin in an attempt to get me to leave her the hell alone; because as her loud baby raspberries and facial expressions explain to me (yet again); she’s not a damn show pony.

The other 5% is spent editing, filter shuffling, and hashtag copying my gem of a photo; so I can show off my awesome iPhone photography skills.

I say that sarcastically; but I secretly love sharing my kids cute and quirky moments with the world. I made that. I’m pretty proud of it. Going through the motions to highlight this amazing foundation we’ve built just reiterates that I don’t need greener grass. My grass may have plenty of divots, some patches may be worn and faded, and sometimes I forget to water it; but its familiar. It’s blades know the curves of my feet well; and I find comfort in all of it’s imperfections. When I choose to put quality time and effort into it’s care, I realize quickly that the other yards around it are all just trying to do the same.

So, in case you need the reminder:

• The janky kitchen table you’re so ready to get rid of; the one that’s seen four previous homes before yours, with the Crayola marks all over it; also has plenty of dinner memories left to give.
• That one shirt you feel like you always wear, the one with the tiny hole in the boob, and spit-up on the shoulder, is probably still snuggled up on daily by a little human who thinks you are the best (and most stylish) person in the entire world.
• The 10-year-old car you bitterly own because you can’t afford to get a new one, and is good for nothing more than getting your family from point A, to point B; does just that. What a blessing.

 

Goodnight; from my seriously creaky, and sometimes questionably put together, hand-me-down bed.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Postpartum lifestyle connoisseur

…that mouthful of a subject line sounded real impressive, didn’t it. Well, now that you’re here:

^ That is my current status in a GIF, 4 months PP.

Raise your hand if it was nearly impossible for you to stick to your nutrition goals PRE-child; let alone POST; when the last thing on your mind is meal prep and fixing salads. Most days I’m happy if I can even get to my microwaved chicken nuggets (yes, I buy them for myself) before they go cold.

I am constantly reminding myself that the ‘fad’ diets are not a thing, they have zero credibility when it comes to overall weight loss; and are not permanent fixes. I hate the word ‘diet’ anyway; and after being told over and over again that it’s a lifestyle change, the idea has stuck. It’s just actually implementing that affirmation that I’m struggling with. I would love nothing more than to humble brag that I have the will-power of a kale chip eating saint; but I would be lying, and half-way through my second snickers bar.

I’m just a lazy sack of crap. Honestly. I hate working out, and probably always will. I do not get that ‘high’ that everyone refers to during/after a workout; unless that ‘high’ happens to be a lack of oxygen and an overall feeling of being near death; in which case I am 100% there.

I genuinely praise women that find the time. that actually get up before they have to get ready for work and do the damn thing. Even if it’s just a quickie 20 minutes. To the ladies that meal prep their hearts out every Sunday, I salute you. I really do. I need to be on this level. I just choose not to, and I don’t know why.

I will whine about feeling gross. Feeling bogged down, foggy, tired, and flat-out nasty. Day in and day out. Hell, I’m annoyed at myself for sounding like a broken record with no end in sight. At the end of the day, it’s a vicious cycle. I feel like crap, so I don’t work out. I don’t work out, because I feel like crap. Hand me a cheeseburger, put the kid to bed, glass or two of wine, repeat.

SO. To pull myself out of this funk, I figured I needed to hold myself accountable, even if just for a few days; as a means to get my ass in gear. I’ve made a micro to-do list to work towards this weekend, in hopes that it inspires some of you mama warriors to do the same!

• Exercise for 30 minutes this weekend doing something you love. (walking, running, swimming, yoga, playing tag with your kids, cleaning, whatever gets you moving and makes you winded)
• Cook one (or two, if you’re feeling ambitious) HEALTHY meal(s) for your family, and skip the bowl of ice cream after.
• Prep your families (healthy) breakfast or lunch Sunday afternoon for the following Monday. It doesn’t have to be both meals, but having something ready is better than having nothing.
• Drink more water. Even if it’s just one extra glass.

It doesn’t even need to be food prep or exercise related. Whatever it is that you are struggling to get to and through, cultivate baby steps to get over the hurdle. It doesn’t seem like much; but I did notice that the times I do exercise, or prep even one meal for myself the day before starting a new week, it changed my attitude for the rest of that day.

If you’re anything like me, you build up these high, unattainable, Everest-sized goals that you want so badly, but then get discouraged by when you re-evaluate.  ANYTHING that goes outside of your usual comfort zone, is enough to steer your motivation in the right direction.

Let me know any ideas you may have that you use to better situate a routine for yourself or your families during the week, or what helps you keep on a steady fast track when you feel stuck in a rut. I would love to gain some knowledge.

Also, I’ve been trying to research a few apps that can help organize what I’m wanting to do in terms of short-term goals, and bigger picture ones. Here’s an article that seems to have some good ones. I’m a visual person by nature, so seeing these things laid out sometimes helps me reach them quicker and more consistently.

Here’s to change, and wine!

 

 

Beauty on a budget

I haven’t been inspired by any deep and brooding life events lately; So I thought I’d steer away from the melodrama that is my postpartum journey, and give you guys some insight into my “beauty” routine – I use this term lightly because I really only do a full makeup look maybe once a month these days. However, I just pulled some random items together that I live and die by, and wanted to share what works for me!

So I have what I call my ‘5’ minute mom face that I do M-F. It’s super fast, makes me look less scary to the general public, and gets the overall job done, because I would rather sleep for an extra 1/2 hour each day than get dolled up. So for that, these are my comfort items:

• First things first: MOISTURIZE. So important. I use this one, and it also has sunscreen in it, which is a huge bonus.
• I have huge pores, especially around my cheeks and t-zone, so I use a pore diminishing primer. I also don’t have $40 to put towards one that is made of sloth tears from the deep forests of Indonesia. I found this one, and It works great for me, and also kind of moisturizes my drier areas.
• I have a ton of discoloraztion, blemishes and dark circles on my face; I use a well tinted BB cream to lay down a good base, so that I really get coverage. I love this brand, and their BB cream. It’s thick and I feel like it works wonders at making me look less dead. It also has some SPF in it, so even more protection.
• I have sort of gotten away from using foundation cream, but when I do, I change it up too much because I’m always looking for the next best steal that works well. The last one I used that I really liked was this one. Right now I’m actually using a new one that I hate. (fun fact.)
• For my poweder, I used Mayelline Pure-Stay for YEARS. I was  so obsessed with it, that even after they discontinued it, I would buy it off Amazon for double the price point just so I wouldn’t have to part with it. Well, eventually it got to around $60 a pack, and that was just outrageous; so I have been on the continuous hunt for something that agreed with my face like the Pure-stay did. So far, the closest thing I’ve come across that I’ve now used twice in a row with some success is this brand. It does tend to get a little cakey for me, but the coverage is good, and with my BB cream, I don’t have to build on top of it too much.
• Mascara. OHHHHH, Mascara. Again, another one I am constantly messing with brand wise. I have found though, that Maybelline is always my go-to. I do try different types of theirs, but this one is pretty good, and you can build on it.
• for Concealor, I’ve found this one to be my best bet. I have SUPER dark circles under my eyes, and I like that it’s a combo stick for both my eyes and other areas of my face. This entire brand is pretty solid, and I’ve had huge luck with almost all of the stuff I’ve gotten from them.
• I am not a HUGE fan of lipstick. I have thin lips already, and feel stupid trying to “over” line my lips or make them appear bigger. It is what it is; and even when I look like a snapping turtle on most days, I don’t have the calibur to try and plump them up. I tend to go for darker, or more neutral tones, but I know it’s different for everyone. Revlon has great mattes, and so does Elf and Colour-pop. Once I find a color, I tend to stick with that one or two for a long while. I don’t really mix things up much. Plus, it’s messy to kiss my babies with a bunch of gunk on my lips 😉 Right now, this shade has been doin it for me.

That’s pretty much it for my extensive “beauty” routine. After having Charlie, I just don’t have as much of an interest in Makeup as I did before. I’d rather spend my money on new clothes and accessories for her. The basics do just fine. Also, here are a few rando items I use a ton too:

• Peppermint Oil. I have Young Living (and am almost out) and I swear by this stuff. Constipation, nausea, headaches, fever, back pain….it’s good for everything. It gets good use in our house.
• Bio-Oil. This is probably the most expensive thing I splurge on. But I have a ton of scars and stretch marks, and this stuff works miracles at fading and diminishing the apparence of things. Also, it’s super moisturizing and makes your skin baby soft!
• Face Masks for dayyyyyys. There are so many great ones you can buy on Amazon, not even kidding. Just search for them and you can find reviews and test some out for under $15. Right now, I’m using this dead sea one frequently. LUSH also has amazing scrubs and masks if you can afford to splurge a bit. I’m also a huge fan of their lavender Toner. Basically anything at LUSH you can’t go wrong by.
• Magnesium. This stuff is a neccessity for our bodies. I’ll leave the link here, just look at all the benefits! I sleep like a baby drinking this before I go to bed. (I honestly just throw a scoop in my ice water.) They also have it for kiddos. I buy mine at Sprouts, and it usually retails for about $20 bucks, and lasts me a little over a month.
• Charcoal bar. Lovvvvve my LUSH charcoal bar. I did spend like $13 on it, and literally have had it for almost a year (using every day) this stuff feels so good on your face, and is so great at relieving acne and detoxifying your skin. You can get much cheaper ones at your nearest Target, or even Amazon.

 

I’ve really dialed it down since having my kid, because frugal is my middle name, and saving big money is my game. (terrible rhyme throw in, I know.) Honestly, I’ve found a few items I can’t live without, and have been training myself to not impulse buy so much crap that I know I won’t end up using anyway. It’s hard, as I’m someone who will just spend because I want to try something out; but taking the time to just appreciate the few items I really do believe in, has shifted my perspective a bit on what I need VS what I want.

Hope someone finds something they end up adding to their own collection!

I didn’t want a girl, but…

God knew exactly what he was doing when he made me a girl mom.

Shortly before I got pregnant, I can recall on more than one occasion pleading with him to listen to reason. I knew boys. I had been getting to know my nephew for over a year, and had gotten used to the ebb and flow, and overall ‘jest’ of boyhood. I also knew that the term ‘mama’s boy’ was not to be taken lightly. From what I could see, my nephew couldn’t get enough of his mom, and was the sweetest, kindest little soul. I wanted that, because I wasn’t intimidated by its familiarity.

Once I did get pregnant, the reality set in that I now had a 50/50 chance of actually having a girl. What was once just theoretical banter with God, had now become an all too real fear.

Then I found out Charlotte Emilia Recchion was well on her way.

The internal panic set in. ‘What if she didn’t love me?’ I highly disliked my mom. We were never close. ‘What if I ruin her?’ Significant damage had been done by mine, and our relationship had been strained from what I feel like was straight out of the womb. I had so many doubts, and was annoyed at God. The fact of the matter was, I couldn’t do this. I wasn’t meant to be a girl mom. I wanted a boy. My partner wanted a boy. This wasn’t fair. I was not up to the challenge of having to re-write my own manual on this toxic, uncharted territory. I couldn’t do this. I couldn’t break the cycle. 

Looking back on it now, I’m able to laugh a little. Of course he gifted me what I didn’t know I needed. God gets me, he knows my heart. There hasn’t been very many moments or situations in my life that I’ve felt uncomfortable in, that he hasn’t challenged me to face head-on. I can honestly say that my strength lies in the fact that he’s never steered me in the wrong direction. I stray, he gently redirects. I push back, he convicts my judgement. I say no, he says ‘I’ll be here when…’ so it only makes sense that he would want me to deconstruct and rebuild the biggest wall in life; raising my own daughter.

Now I couldn’t imagine life without her. I wake up every morning to this gummy, wrinkled-nose grin, and can’t help but swoon. My Charlie is a vocal, sassy, funny little spitfire; and I am so honored that she chose me to be her mom.

That being said, there are at least a few minutes of each day that the anxiety of not doing right by her hits me. God can reiterate time and time again how big his presence is in my life, and I will always question his motives. Trust was never my strong suit. All the mean while, Every time she hits a milestone, or recognizes my face when we lock eyes; there is no denying that the very core of me aches with the need to give this kid everything I am in order to make her existence matter.

I want to show her that kindness and tolerance starts at home. That you can stand strong in your foundation and still love anyone that views the world differently than you. To never settle in complacency with herself, or let those around her bring her down in theirs. That it’s okay to cry at the little things, and at the big things; because her feelings are important. That we won’t always agree, and that there will be a day when she does really feel like she hates me, and will tell me so; but we’ll both know that it couldn’t be further from the truth. I want her to not have to apologize to the world for her every step, and instead stir up revolutions in spite of it. To not stand idly by while others are suffering, talking about what could be done, instead of acting in the middle of the resolve. That no matter how high she sets her own expectations, doing the best she can will always be good enough. I want her to know, love, and rely on God in ways that I never did (and most of the time still don’t) and to get used to her mom being fully engaged in her life; even when she finds it SO annoying; because that will mean I’m doing something right by her, after all.

I will always struggle with the void that comes with not having the typical mother/daughter relationship. I realize that I am one of many; and that’s why it’s even more important for all of us to stick together, and understand that we are not alone. It can be very isolating. I got lucky, because there has never been a lack of nurturing substitutes in my life. As I’ve grown, so has my support system. Still, it doesn’t take away from what’s missing.

As always, I encourage other new mom’s (or ladies in general) that this topic may strike a chord with, to reach out, and share your struggles. Dysfunction isn’t shameful, it’s eye-opening.

 

 

I give my body hell, and it gave me motherhood.

Going through pregnancy and having a baby made me appreciate my pre-mom body like I never thought possible. I spend a good amount of time mourning the me that couldn’t stop whining about her flaws at every skin flab and pimple. That bitch had no idea what she was talking about.

It’s not that I don’t appreciate what my body has done for me. I have so much respect for the work she’s put in, even after the many years of destruction and teenage angst I’ve riddled her with. She definitely doesn’t owe me anything; so gifting me a baby was a pretty solid move on her part.

I’ve also realized she’s given me so many stories to tell. The scars on my legs, to remind me that for whatever reason, everything made them itch, and no Costco sized jar of coconut oil could lessen the urge to scratch. It makes me laugh to think about the looks the nurses gave me in the hospital during my labor, or the snarky comments that they made, trying to imply that I either had a drug problem, or was suffering from a serious mental illness. Really, something just wasn’t agreeing with the sensitivity of my pregnant skin; and it’s since gone away completely.

There’s also the three minuscule stretch marks that I spent an entire 9 months trying to avoid getting; when at the end of the day, I could really care less about. One of them doesn’t even qualify as a true stretch mark; however, I’m too embarrassed to actually admit that it’s a burn mark from trying to curl my hair naked, and not realizing (or being in denial of) my stomach being so big, it had its own gravitational pull. Besides, they’re all close enough together that I can get away with not having to share the naked hair-curling incident, and instead brag about how I’ve earned my tiger stripes.

My poor boobs. I don’t even have a cool story for what happened there. Time, gravity, and the pregnancy Houdini decided to grab some brunch, ban together, and swoop in like a swift ninja to pop the life out of those fun bags before I could enjoy them without needing a bra to leave the house, for fear of tripping over them.

You know what’s also fun? Shower art. Specifically the kind you make with the clumps of hair you start to lose after your body decides to rebel against you postpartum. I was so confident too, getting cocky about the fact that I hadn’t lost any 3 months in. But even just throwing that thought out into the universe was enough to cue the PSYCH! police. I could probably make money with the abstract pieces I’ve put together on my shower walls.

I will say this. The healing process downstairs (sorry grandma, don’t read this part) was not as bad as I thought it’d be. I had imagined my vag looking like a crime scene out of Law & Order, where the hazmat guys come in with the suits and basically everyone in the room is traumatized for life. But from what I’ve been able to tell, things seem relatively unscathed, considering I pushed what felt like a bowling ball covered in cactus needles out of my lady bits.

After all is said and done; you sort of walk around with a newfound respect for how awesome you are. You think about giving birth as something a woman just “does” when the time comes; but you don’t appreciate it for what it’s worth, until you have experienced it first hand. We absolutely do not get enough credit. The intensity, emotion, physical & spiritual battle we go through when we are that deep within ourselves is unlike anything that can be described in words. Thinking back on labor and all it entailed really makes me go “how the actual f*ck did I get through that, I’m kind of a big deal.”

And you are.

So Own the battle wounds, big and small. Embrace the lopsidedness, and poke fun at the awkward bodily functions. It is the result of creating life, and there’s nothing more badass than that.

Things pregnancy has taught me

If by some chance there is a possibility that we are acquainted and you haven’t realized it yet; No, I haven’t taken up eating my weight in Chipotle every day for the past 7 months. I am, indeed, growing a real baby this time, and not just a food one.

I still have a hard time wrapping my head around how fast the days seem now; and how little time there is left for me to process the fact that I’m about to be a mom. Hell, my fiance and I will legitamately be responsible for something that doesn’t just bark at her own farts (I’m looking at you, Maggie.)

It’s been really interesting/terrifying/horrifying/exciting/every other emotion ever; to listen to the stories/comments/pieces of advice/”constructive criticism”/chastising comments/every other novel of pregnancy-ism ever; from everyone, everywhere you go; most well intended and welcome, others, not so much.

Pregnancy is weird in that you become less of a human making another human, and more of a snow globe on display for people to gawk at, poke, rub, and speak to rhetorically. I actually had someone share with me that a stranger in the grocery store took it upon themselves to walk right up to her and start rubbing her stomach, because that’s completely normal and not inappropriate whatsoever. My favorite by far has been the unwarranted comments on my size, shape, location of my gravitational center, when I’m giving birth, how far along I am, OH and how dying my hair and having a cup of coffee clearly mean I’m going to be the most horrendous parent to ever go down in history. Suffice it to say, It’s taken the people that actually matter in my life to help me realize that my child will not come out with an extra ear on her forehead, just because I happen to sneak in a sausage egg McMuffin from McDonald’s every now and again.

Here are some other random thoughts/things I’ve learned coming up on my 7th month of pregnancy:

1. The constipation struggle is real, folks. I have zero shame in my game, so don’t give me some funk ass look like ‘you would never…’ because you have, and I will pull out the ‘everybody poops’ book, if you need reference. Honestly, at this stage in my life, if you feel uncomfortable talking about bowels with me like you would a rainy day; we just aren’t meant to be.

Things that have helped: (resources for these items are at the end of the post)

• Peppermint oil. This stuff is miracle in a 15 ML bottle. Heartburn, Constipation, hemorrhoids (yeah, I said it.) upset stomach, really it’s been one of my all around go-to’s.
• Miralax. Yes I realize this isn’t to be used daily, but when you’re really feeling like crap (pun intended) this will definitely get things moving along in the right direction.
• Stool Softeners. Dulcolax (non-stimulating only) FOR THE WIN. This stuff is the best, really. Walmart has it for $4, and it’s worth every penny. Can be taken up to 3 times daily! Your butt will thank you.
• Natural Calm. This is really an all around wellness product, so many benefits during pregnancy, among them, constipation. A little pricier, but Sprouts has good deals. I usually put it into my night time tea.
• Fruits and Veggies. Because, fiber.
• Speaking of Fiber, Prune juice.
• Water. Water Water Water. Literally as much as you can physically drink. Yes, I know it’s counter productive to try and STOP peeing in 3 minute intervals, but it’s worth it.

2. Preggo dreams are seriously, seriously messed up. I don’t know about anyone else, but I’ve never woken up before absolutely convinced that we were in the midst of a talking electronic toilet apocalypse. It once took me half a day to forgive Travis for dream cheating on me.

3. Never have I ever googled rare pregnancy diseases. No, but really, don’t. In fact, take it from this very avid WebMD connoisseur, anxiety ridden browsing is INFINITELY different when you’re obsessing for two. My doctor banned me from using any online references, and told me if it was something I just absolutely had to indulge in, that I would have to filter it through Travis, first. Because apparently being 30 years old doesn’t automatically mean I’m ready to take on the whole adulting thing full time.

4. Fetal movement is by the far the most surreal, amazing honor I’ve ever had the privilege of experiencing. There’s nothing quite like this little being inside of you, reacting to the music you love, or her daddies voice when he tells her he loves her and can’t wait to meet her; SWOON.

5. Weight gain. I’m terrified of it. Already being overweight put me at risk for more than I could have imagined. What doesn’t help, is obsessing over it. I can only do my best to stay on top of my health; the rest is completely out of my hands. My body is changing despite my best efforts, and I’ve got to enjoy and embrace the strength in what I am capable of as a woman. It is slowly, but surely changing my perspective on what makes me beautiful.

6. Walking across the room has become an Olympic event. I barely make it up a flight of stairs and you would think I just completed a 5k. Hell, just sitting here typing this up has me winded. I never once though I’d become annoyed with the sound of my own breathing.

7. Finding angles to shave my legs is seriously entertaining. I’ve never taken a yoga class in my life, but whatever I’m doing to get the job done definitely qualifies. You can add that to the growing list of things that make me winded.

8. How much my love would grow for my baby daddy. MY GOD THE FEELS. We used to make JOKES about how awful living with me would be for 9 months; how I would basically be the exorcist, head spinning and what not. Turns out, being pregnant has only made me fall in love with him all over. I look at him and I swoon like a school girl. I feel so lucky that he picked me, every day, but now more than ever. I have this little human inside me that is 50% him, and it makes me giddy. He is attentive, supportive, kind, selfless, all things I struggle with; he is and does effortlessly. I already know our daughter is going to have him wrapped around her finger the second she lays eyes on him.

9. THE SUPPORT. I’ve never experienced anything like it. Really. I am amazed at the lengths my mom friends have gone to ensure I have been comfortable, calm, and taken care of for the last 7 months. They’ve talked me off the ledge, made sure I got the best hand me downs, encouraged my abilities, and have been just as excited as I have to meet my little girl. She’s not even here yet, and I know just how loved she is going to be. I couldn’t ask for more in a group of women that I call my friends! You guys have given me more grace than I deserve. I love you!

10. How social I’d have to be. I never thought about what being pregnant does in terms of having to make an effort. I know that sounds awful and ungrateful, it isn’t intended to. I am a hermit. I would rather stay home, in my pajamas, hiding away from the world, than having to face it. I hate idle chit chat, and huge group events. The people that I’m really close to understand this, and love me in spite of it. However, I realize now that with a kid on the way, I am going to have to take some serious strides to do better. With that comes trying harder to not be so awkward, and maybe work on my resting bitch face. But let’s not get ahead of ourselves…

Anyway, the real reason I wanted to jump back on the blog bandwagon is mainly because I feel like I needed some sort of documentation down the road that proves this wasn’t all just some crazy, made up fantasy life I’m currently pretending to have. Every minute that she is inside me getting bigger, is a bittersweet reminder to soak in even the most minute, yet incredible details of my life. Soon enough, I will barely remember who I was before she gave me real purpose. I’m ok with that.

 

RESOURCES:

Peppermint/other various oils:

Young Living Oils

Doterra Oils

Miralax (they carry this at your average grocery store)

Stool Softeners (make sure to get the non-stimulant one)

Natural Calm

 

An ode to your greatness

Hi ladies! This week has been a rough one, to say the least. Stressful wouldn’t even begin to put it accurately into words – but wine helps.

It was weighing heavy on my heart to instill some ‘woosah’ if you will, with other amazing women that may need the occasional pep-talk like I do, specifically on days like today. The kind where you put a different shoe on each foot, and leave the coffee thermos on top of the car as you hurry to work, or to run around town like a chicken without a head.

I wanted to gently remind you of a few key things, maybe while you’re cooking dinner and downing the 3rd cup of now cold coffee you meant to get to hours ago when it was still satisfying, or in between calls full of people telling you what an incompetent moron you are.

• if you need the extra 5 minutes to “pee” today, go for it. read an interesting article, get through that ridiculous level of Candy Crush you just can’t seem to conquer, and have almost thrown your phone out the window for. Hell, contemplate your marriage and the reason why you thought it was a good idea to have kids, as they claw their way under the crack of the door. Whatever extra 30 seconds you can grab to do so, SEIZE IT.
• Let caffeine win. If you are beating yourself up over the wasted calories you spent on your 2nd Venti caramel macchiato before it was even noon; let it go, Elsa. If you decided 4 coca cola’s in that it was really just a 5 soda kind of day, by all means. and if anyone decides to make a comment about it, I highly recommend you tell them to eat a bowl of dicks.
• Did you hear a few favorite back to back songs on the radio while you were on your way home to cook dinner? Were you really feeling yourself, and the amazing dance moves you have in the car? It’s totally a sign. Take that back route home that we all know about, but never get to enjoy. JAM OUT WITH YOUR CLAM OUT, GIRL. Get turnt, as the kids say. That raw meatloaf will still be at home, untouched, waiting for your culinary expertise, as soon as you get around to it.
• Wine? at 3pm? on a weekday? Yes, and if anyone has anything to say about it, they can file a complaint with absolutely no one, because you’re the boss, and you make the rules, damn it. You don’t need negative people like that in your life, anyway.
• Did you feel like putting on makeup today? Me either. Some days, you’re lucky if you find me properly dressed, and not dragging my right leg behind me into work with my sweats still halfway on, and spit-up down my back. I don’t get paid an hourly wage to have to smear circus gunk on my face every day of my life. If I want to go rock my PowerPoint presentation full of pie-charts, or charts about pies, without my eyeliner on; I’m pretty sure it will still be bad ass, and bonus: I won’t have to go home, scrub my face raw, and waste precious moments of my ‘me’ time, better spent grabbing that extra glass of wine or lying in bed motionless, processing how the hell I get through days like today.
• Don’t feel like cooking dinner? Great, don’t. Your clean eating and raw vegan diets will be there waiting for you tomorrow. Eat the processed bag of chips. Buy the extra-large, bacon wrapped, deep-fried, cheese stuffed pizza you know you’ve literally been eyeing for two months straight. You earned it.
• Did you know that remote cardio is a thing? Look into it. 400 channels can take a while to get through, so don’t you tell me you can’t burn sufficient calories by channel surfing. 1 channel bump = 1 calorie.
• Cry at the video of the penguin born without his left foot, who ends up getting a replacement one, and is adopted by a blue whale named Boris; that takes it lovingly under its orca wing and nurses it back to health. Those Facebook videos are literally the essence of life – and if your husband/significant other is watching with you, and doesn’t cry, or proceeds to laugh at you during said crying; give them a solid purple nurple. nothing creative there. Just do it. Because, really, who doesn’t have ALL the feels over a penguin with a bum foot, coasting through life with a whale companion to a Sarah McLachlan intro.
• Already ate 2 snickers, 3 slices of ice cream cake, and a donut today? Yeah, I feel you. however, if you have been reading up until this point i think you know where I’m going with this. Let’s just say no one is watching you grab that bag of chocolate chips in the back of the fridge, or judging you for that Oreo filling smeared on your cheek that you’re saving for later. Let’s move on.
• Spend an extra 5 minutes tonight doing something that makes you genuinely happy. I mean, head over heels, soul melting, I could cry I haven’t gotten to do this in months, happy. And don’t let anything distract you from it. But don’t let anyone die, either. I mean, I’m not advising you to continue on if your kid is literally climbing the dresser, or your husband/significant other has a questionable woman over for wine and appetizers in the other room, thinking you can’t still come take care of that Becky with the good hair. But try your damnedest.

Most importantly; don’t question your worth because a client had you up in arms about something petty that you had no control over. Don’t doubt your abilities as a mother, father, friend, sibling, colleague, or otherwise. You’re absolutely killing it with that workload, parenthood, and agenda. People are always going to have something to say, someone to prey on. Sit comfortably in your own skin, knowing you’re doing the best that you can with the cards that you’re dealt. I bet you someone glanced over at you today and wished so badly that they had what you did. Seriously. It’s hard to believe sometimes, but our mediocre is someone else’s extraordinary. You did great, you do great, and you are great. Whatever you need, whoever you are, just make sure you take the time to do you, eat that 5th and “final” chocolate chip cooker, and the rest will fall into place on its own.