For the past month I haven't been craving food so much as totally uninterested in it. I eat because I have to but few and far between are the meals that sound REALLY good. (This is sad because I vaguely remember really liking food in my pre-pregnancy life.)
This disinterest in food and meals made grocery shopping incredibly ineffective. Pre-prego I would spend about $80-$100 per week at the grocery store. In this anti-food phase, it dropped to about $50 per week and there was no telling what I had in my cart. The only thing guaranteed was it probably didn't make a reasonable meal.
Two weeks ago I realized my shopping failure while still at the store and so bought fresh french bread (one of Ross' fav things ever). I came home and gave it to him as a peace offering saying "I have no idea what I bought at the store but I'm pretty sure it is a useless combination. I bought you bread though so you would know its not because I hate you."
Today I am proud to announce that I seem to have overcome my grocery shopping paralysis. I spent $85, bought nutritious food and even have a few meals in mind. VICTORY!
Also, I've never seen Ross so happy to unload groceries from the car as he was this morning.
Oct 7, 2012
Oct 6, 2012
Just Another Night in the 'Hood
Last night a little after 9 or so our doorbell rang, very unusual for us. Ross was enjoying his bubble bath so I checked through the peephole and saw our 16 year old-ish Neighbor Girl. When I opened the door, something was clearly bothering her and she quickly asked to borrow a flashlight because her dog had puppies and they managed to let one of the puppies fall down a sewer pipe.
Yes, a sewer pipe.
I got her a flashlight, alerted my bubble-covered firefighter of the situation and followed Neighbor Girl across the street to her front yard. With the flashlight down the pipe we could see the wiggly butt of the puppy (it was start to walk down the pipe which turned parallel to the ground). This pipe was at least 5 feet deep and about 8 inches wide.
Ross came out a minute later and a couple minutes after that our neighbors/friends Chris and Carly bolted out of their house with flashlights. And cooking tongs. Carly was a woman with a plan, a plan to use cooking tongs to rescue the pup.
While Ross went back to poke around our garage for some appropriate tools, we started discussing who we should call. We're not actually in the city limits so the city fire and police departments didn't sound like the right fit. And it wasn't an emergency-emergency so 911 felt a little over the top. By the time Ross got back, we had all settled on 311 and Neighbor Girl was calling.
At this juncture I started to wonder where the hell her parents were.
As Neighbor Girl talks to 311 a sheriff's car pulls up, apparently sent by 311. We give him the scoop and he points his flashlight down the pipe. Yes, he confirms, there is a puppy down that pipe. Then he proceeds to stand there.
Next a pick-up comes howling down the street and screeches to a halt in front of the house. Neighbor Dad jumps out of the passenger side and practically leaps over one of his kid's friends to get to the scene. Down on all fours he sticks his head into the pipe the way a kid glues his face to the candy store window. Then Neighbor Dad awkwardly gets up (everything this guy does is pretty awkward) and starts muttering about needing a coat hanger. It quickly becomes clear that he's a little buzzed from where ever he's been during all this.
Meanwhile Chris, who is bald, with a beard and tatted-up, and Ross, who is sweating from his scalding hot bath, are discussing who has the better wet-dry vac for the situation. Maybe we can just suck the puppy out of the pipe; after all Ross saw it done to a cat once. And Carly and I are just standing there; me pregnant, barefoot and in my PJs and her holding a flashlight in one hand and cooking tongs in the other. (It hadn't taken long to realize the tongs were not going to solve the issue but as an official flashlight holder, Carly had not had the luxury of returning them to her kitchen.)
Neighbor Dad, who owns a carpet cleaning company, hears the boys continuing on about the wet-dry vacs and chimes in that he can go get his work truck and we can use the suction on those hoses too. Note: this is a newborn wierner dog puppy. Industrial size hoses are hardly necessary.
Instead of going to get the work truck though, Neighbor Dad commences to building some kind of bent coat hanger on a broom stick contraption.
As if on cue, around the corner comes the Pflugerville Fire Dept in what I swear must be the biggest truck they own. Lights flashing it rolls up to the scene and off jump four firefighters.
At this point Carly and I nearly double over laughing...silently of course. We don't want to seem rude but looking around us we have distressed Neighbor Girl, her 2 friends, slightly drunk Neighbor Dad, the sheriff's deputy (who continues to do nothing), sweaty, tatted-up Chris, pregnant me, tong-toting Carly, 4 firefighters and some chick from down the street who has recently showed up in what is clearly her going out outfit.
There's not much we can do (other than laugh) so Ross and I head home, leaving this in the very capable hands of the local FD. Right before going to sleep, I peered out the blinds and it appeared the firefighters were unloading equipment off the truck to tackle the issue.
Today I texted with Carly and learned that pup was saved, in fact by Chris using the coat hanger broom stick contraption which Neighbor Dad was experienced with from his raccooning experiences.
Just another night in the 'hood.
Yes, a sewer pipe.
I got her a flashlight, alerted my bubble-covered firefighter of the situation and followed Neighbor Girl across the street to her front yard. With the flashlight down the pipe we could see the wiggly butt of the puppy (it was start to walk down the pipe which turned parallel to the ground). This pipe was at least 5 feet deep and about 8 inches wide.
Ross came out a minute later and a couple minutes after that our neighbors/friends Chris and Carly bolted out of their house with flashlights. And cooking tongs. Carly was a woman with a plan, a plan to use cooking tongs to rescue the pup.
While Ross went back to poke around our garage for some appropriate tools, we started discussing who we should call. We're not actually in the city limits so the city fire and police departments didn't sound like the right fit. And it wasn't an emergency-emergency so 911 felt a little over the top. By the time Ross got back, we had all settled on 311 and Neighbor Girl was calling.
At this juncture I started to wonder where the hell her parents were.
As Neighbor Girl talks to 311 a sheriff's car pulls up, apparently sent by 311. We give him the scoop and he points his flashlight down the pipe. Yes, he confirms, there is a puppy down that pipe. Then he proceeds to stand there.
Next a pick-up comes howling down the street and screeches to a halt in front of the house. Neighbor Dad jumps out of the passenger side and practically leaps over one of his kid's friends to get to the scene. Down on all fours he sticks his head into the pipe the way a kid glues his face to the candy store window. Then Neighbor Dad awkwardly gets up (everything this guy does is pretty awkward) and starts muttering about needing a coat hanger. It quickly becomes clear that he's a little buzzed from where ever he's been during all this.
Meanwhile Chris, who is bald, with a beard and tatted-up, and Ross, who is sweating from his scalding hot bath, are discussing who has the better wet-dry vac for the situation. Maybe we can just suck the puppy out of the pipe; after all Ross saw it done to a cat once. And Carly and I are just standing there; me pregnant, barefoot and in my PJs and her holding a flashlight in one hand and cooking tongs in the other. (It hadn't taken long to realize the tongs were not going to solve the issue but as an official flashlight holder, Carly had not had the luxury of returning them to her kitchen.)
Neighbor Dad, who owns a carpet cleaning company, hears the boys continuing on about the wet-dry vacs and chimes in that he can go get his work truck and we can use the suction on those hoses too. Note: this is a newborn wierner dog puppy. Industrial size hoses are hardly necessary.
Instead of going to get the work truck though, Neighbor Dad commences to building some kind of bent coat hanger on a broom stick contraption.
As if on cue, around the corner comes the Pflugerville Fire Dept in what I swear must be the biggest truck they own. Lights flashing it rolls up to the scene and off jump four firefighters.
At this point Carly and I nearly double over laughing...silently of course. We don't want to seem rude but looking around us we have distressed Neighbor Girl, her 2 friends, slightly drunk Neighbor Dad, the sheriff's deputy (who continues to do nothing), sweaty, tatted-up Chris, pregnant me, tong-toting Carly, 4 firefighters and some chick from down the street who has recently showed up in what is clearly her going out outfit.
There's not much we can do (other than laugh) so Ross and I head home, leaving this in the very capable hands of the local FD. Right before going to sleep, I peered out the blinds and it appeared the firefighters were unloading equipment off the truck to tackle the issue.
Today I texted with Carly and learned that pup was saved, in fact by Chris using the coat hanger broom stick contraption which Neighbor Dad was experienced with from his raccooning experiences.
Just another night in the 'hood.
Oct 5, 2012
Maternity Clothes #Fail
First, this is not a rant about being fat or achey or hating maternity cloths.
Second, as a chick and marketing gal, I'm not someone who is horribly opposed to pretty models. I would appreciate they don't be totally emaciated but I get that clothing ads are selling you an image. "Wear this bra and you too can look like Tyra Banks or Heidi Klum." I get it, whatever, no big deal.
I have however found the exception to the rule.
I was just online shopping Motherhood Maternity and the "lingerie" link piqued my curiosity. (Pretty nighties that flatter my belly? Sign me up!)
The first page of this section was much more boring: bras. Plain white or nude colored bras, basic, functional, practical. OK, that's fine. Then while browsing these less than exciting bras, it dawned on me - I could see the models' abs. ABS. Do you know what pregnant ladies do not have? ABS!
I'm offended because 1) how dare you try to sell me the image of having a set of flat washboard abs while I am PREGNANT and 2) do your job better marketing and advertising team! This is an embarrassment to your industry. You should know your audience better than this!
Now I can just hear the argument: "Oh well these bras are also for nursing so those women wouldn't be pregnant any more."
True. But how many women who are still nursing have beautiful flat abs? Very few I tell you, very few. Nice try but you fail.
The one or two models who were not flaunting their abs were the models featured in the plus size section so not so much pregnant as just a different size and shape.
Motherhood Maternity, you suck. I'm hereby waging (social media) war on you.
Second, as a chick and marketing gal, I'm not someone who is horribly opposed to pretty models. I would appreciate they don't be totally emaciated but I get that clothing ads are selling you an image. "Wear this bra and you too can look like Tyra Banks or Heidi Klum." I get it, whatever, no big deal.
I have however found the exception to the rule.
 |
| Actual image from site |
The first page of this section was much more boring: bras. Plain white or nude colored bras, basic, functional, practical. OK, that's fine. Then while browsing these less than exciting bras, it dawned on me - I could see the models' abs. ABS. Do you know what pregnant ladies do not have? ABS!
I'm offended because 1) how dare you try to sell me the image of having a set of flat washboard abs while I am PREGNANT and 2) do your job better marketing and advertising team! This is an embarrassment to your industry. You should know your audience better than this!
Now I can just hear the argument: "Oh well these bras are also for nursing so those women wouldn't be pregnant any more."
True. But how many women who are still nursing have beautiful flat abs? Very few I tell you, very few. Nice try but you fail.
The one or two models who were not flaunting their abs were the models featured in the plus size section so not so much pregnant as just a different size and shape.
Motherhood Maternity, you suck. I'm hereby waging (social media) war on you.
Oct 4, 2012
Turnip?
Well the BabyCenter app/website let me down today. I'm 17 weeks and all I got in terms of a food comparison was "Your baby weighs 5 ounces now (about as much as a turnip)," which does not tell me bigness, just fatness. And maybe it is a sign that I don't eat enough vegetables but I have no idea what size a turnip is.
However some other interesting bits where BabyCenter did come through is that Baby is about 5 inches head to booty and getting more of a traditional skeleton.
On the Mom-front, this belly is here. At our client conference last week I had a couple people say "I just heard you are pregnant! I was wondering when I saw you." And where before it was only the odd outfit that I looked pregnant in, now it is only the odd outfit I do not look pregnant in.
Also, when laying on my stomach in yoga class I can definitely feel Baby. The best way to describe it is it feels like I'm laying on a small nerf football. It is definitely a new feeling and definitely in the right spot in my belly so I am sure it is Baby. No noticeable moving yet though.
And finally, holy hips. I thought my hips were just killing me from traveling and a lack of yoga. But last night after yoga, though they felt better, it was not by much. According to the Google, hip pain in the second and third trimester is normal; everything is getting ready for the big day. Usually it is later in the second trimester but I'm guessing mine is starting early since my hips are so narrow (seriously, I am built like a boy when it comes to curves...and lack thereof). Fingers crossed that I'm not looking down the tunnel at 23 weeks of hip pain.
However some other interesting bits where BabyCenter did come through is that Baby is about 5 inches head to booty and getting more of a traditional skeleton.
On the Mom-front, this belly is here. At our client conference last week I had a couple people say "I just heard you are pregnant! I was wondering when I saw you." And where before it was only the odd outfit that I looked pregnant in, now it is only the odd outfit I do not look pregnant in.
Also, when laying on my stomach in yoga class I can definitely feel Baby. The best way to describe it is it feels like I'm laying on a small nerf football. It is definitely a new feeling and definitely in the right spot in my belly so I am sure it is Baby. No noticeable moving yet though.
And finally, holy hips. I thought my hips were just killing me from traveling and a lack of yoga. But last night after yoga, though they felt better, it was not by much. According to the Google, hip pain in the second and third trimester is normal; everything is getting ready for the big day. Usually it is later in the second trimester but I'm guessing mine is starting early since my hips are so narrow (seriously, I am built like a boy when it comes to curves...and lack thereof). Fingers crossed that I'm not looking down the tunnel at 23 weeks of hip pain.
Oct 3, 2012
Today I'm excited about...
- Get Babied! Infant Survival Class - A no-frills new mom at the office recommended this class as one she and her hubby did and loved. She, like me, has been around kids plenty but still thought this class was good. I immediately checked it out. It sounds great! It includes all kinds of things that you don't learn from caring for other people's kids like vaccinations, umbilical cord care and even postpartum depression symptoms. Since I'm not feeling the books and tons of research, this one-time 2.5 hour class feels like just the right amount of baby prep. And it is called a "survival" class which makes me grin and feels fitting. I've already signed us up for their mid-February class.
- Yoga! - My favorite yoga teacher randomly has a class on the schedule tonight. I cannot wait! Fingers crossed that Wednesday night classes are about to become a regular thing.
- Baby Rowan - She was born Friday and tomorrow night we are going to meet her. Yay!
A sandwich, cookie and flowers
A sandwich, cookie and flowers, that is what my hubby greeted his hungry pregnant wife at the airport with last night. HE WINS.
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