What NOT to say to the Pregnant Lady!

My view looking down, as of late...Ivy loves to kiss the baby!

It's time for another round of "What NOT to say to the Pregnant Lady!" Last time around Mike posted this entry about the range of questions we received about the pregnancy, from the painfully obvious to the laughably absurd. This time, though, the questions are a bit more...personal. And unanswerable. And some of the comments are totally misguided, even though I know they are genuine attempts to be positive and supportive.

Disclaimer 1 - if you're reading this and thinking, "Oh shit, I said that - Kim must be talking about me...what a bitch" you're probably right, but not the only one. None of these comments were made exclusively by any one person, so don't take it personally.

Disclaimer 2 - if you don't understand my/Mike's sense of humor, please stop reading now. Last time people thought we were actually upset that we were being asked any questions at all about anything. It really is okay to talk to us...take our sarcasm and "sensitivity" with a grain of salt. Or take your toys and go home.

Wow, isn't THAT a coincidence - a former Planned Parenthood employee having an unplanned pregnancy?!?! - yes, I am fully aware of this coincidence. Any and all comments related to this shall be stricken from the record. (And apparently this happens more than you'd expect, according to a former colleague of mine.)

How did you get pregnant on birth control?!?! - the $64,000 question. I'm dying to know myself. Let me know what you come up with.

How did you find out? - the usual way...the stork dropped off a save the date card for October 14.

Think of all the women in the world who would love to get pregnant! - Okay, logic = FAIL. I'm not entirely sure how my ill-chosen birth control method has anything to do with anyone else's ability to get pregnant. And I honestly say this in total seriousness and the utmost sympathy and sensitivity to women who cannot get pregnant or who have lost pregnancies (and I know people in both categories). I understand that it must be difficult for some women to hear me rant about this and not feel resentful, but my lack of control over the situation is not so different than theirs, and only makes me feel more guilty. I'm not at all ungrateful for the fact that I'm apparently hyper-fertile and and all of my parts are working; it's still a big thing for me to wrap my brain around.

It's meant to be!"- mmmkay, you probably wouldn't say that if you knew some of the other circumstances of our lives right now. And, related to the previous comment, would you ever say that to a woman who CAN'T get pregnant?

Are you sure it's not twins? - haven't we covered this already?

You're due in October? Wow, you're going to be miserable all summer! - thanks. Actually, I am looking forward to a summer pregnancy as opposed to a winter one. In fact, in my opinion, this is the optimal timeline in which to be pregnant and give birth (I say as if I planned the whole thing!). I essentially avoid having to be pregnant during the 3 darkest and coldest months (November through January). I give birth in October, god willing, before Daylight Savings ends, so I'll still have a little warmth and light for the first few weeks of the kid's life while I settle in and try to fend off PPD and SAD. I HATE being cold. I know I'm an LA snob. And when I was pregnant with Ivy I hit my first major growth spurt in January so it made wearing clothes simply repulsive. I am no fan of sweaters and layers and nonsense like that. It was bad enough this time having to battle through February when it was dark and cold and I was always about 10 seconds away from vomiting. I welcome summer. I'm more of a sundress and flip flops girl anyway, except for the unfortunate incidence of no longer being able to easily shave my legs (see photo at the top). But I say, bring on the bloat.

A fun little game...show's how boring I am that I consider this fun!

It's been a long week or so, hence the delay in posting again. There’s been a lot going on in our lives, so I figured for now I'd play a fun game that I stole from another blog. It's just a little weekly check-in, though don't expect me to do it every week. And I don't have a picture to accompany it, but I will try to do that the next time. Again, a lot going on, etc. And if you don't care about any of this, that's cool too.

Pregnancy: 24 Weeks

Weight Gain: 15lbs. I started out a little under my "normal" weight because I was so damn sick, so I'm estimating here. I gained it all quicker, but I have a feeling my appetite is going to taper soon. I feel full, just by having a baby in there!

Gender: One or the other. Lately when I've dreamt about it, it's a girl.

Name: See Mike's post - we're screwed if it's a boy

Sleep: I'm trying to get to bed earlier, and assuming Ivy doesn't wake up in the middle of the night, I do okay. It's just the middle of the night anxiety that sometimes plagues me. Other than that, I happily spend the night on my left side, and I haven't even needed the Snoogle very much yet. What I could really use, however, is a daily afternoon nap.

Feeling: Decent, overall. Tired, big, but otherwise fine.

Health: Great! I do my GD test next appointment, so keep your fingers crossed.

Maternity clothes: totally necessary, and not yet sick of them. I give it about 2 more weeks.

Food cravings: Nothing out of the ordinary. Check back in an hour, and I may have a different answer.

Belly: Large and in charge...and getting the crap kicked out of it!

Movement: Dos is a dancer, for sure.

What I am looking forward to: taking fun maternity pictures with Ivy

What I miss: Beer...which is odd because I don't really drink beer when I'm not pregnant. Go figure.

Best moment this week: Well really it was last week, because this week kinda blows, but I found my taquitos! I have 2 boxes of frozen veggies ones in the freezer at work…think I’ll have one now in fact!

The Erica Syndrome

Fans of the Babysilv blog will remember from last time around tales of The Erica Syndrome, aka what happens when a perfectly normal (or in Erica's case, more or less normal) child discovers that they have a sibling and are now no longer the only apple in their parents' eyes. This involves tantrums, requests to become a baby again (wearing diapers, sleeping in cribs, etc.), pretending like the baby does not exist, asking if the baby should be rescued from a potentially burning building or if it should be left there to die (that actually happened), and most famously, announcing that one's goal in life is to be an only child.

Now that Ivy is 2, and potentially a "terrible two," the question lingers: Will she suffer from Erica Syndrome?

At first I thought no. Ivy loves babies. She loves Baby Benjamin at day care and is the only kid interested in his baby-ness. She brings him his bottle, pacifier, diapers, etc. She gives him hugs and kisses. She also loves her Big Sister book (hell of a lot better than some of the other crap she makes us read, like stupid Stop Train Stop with the friggin cow in Knapford), loves talking about being a big sister, loves kissing the baby and talking to it. She won't suck like Erica; she will be awesome like Ivy. Hooray!

And yet...

Ivy is definitely showcasing some characteristics of a "two-er." She throws tantrums for completely random reasons, and sometimes throws counter-tantrums for opposite reasons at the same time (example: tantrum because you want to put her in her seat; you stop trying to put her in the seat, and she throws a tantrum because you aren't helping her get in the seat). She is incredibly independent and refuses to accept help doing tasks, especially if she is doing them incorrectly (like putting shoes on the wrong feet). She also recently discovered the word "why" and is now questioning all aspects of reality like she were a sophomore Philosophy major quaking over Camus.

I still am holding out hope that Ivy will be great with the new baby and that his or her addition to our family will be seamless and wonderful (though I'm sure Poker will have an attitude about the kid - stupid cat). If Ivy does go off the deep end though, I can always kick it with the second kid, as hopefully it will have Mike Syndrome and will suffer from incredible bouts of awesomeness.

- Me

Ivy's Birthday Party: The Day After

Penn friends, you’ll appreciate this:

Remember how you felt after Fling? Especially the first one, freshman year? Your mind had just been blown for 3 days straight, the insanity of the weekend almost incomprehensible. And you’re totally hungover to boot, unsure of exactly how much and what you drank (and ate for that matter) over the course of the event.

Replace hangover with sugar coma, and that’s pretty much how I felt after Ivy’s second birthday party.

And it was awesome.

There were cupcakes. There was Play Doh. There was a Dora piñata, full of candy and other goodies (the raisins didn’t move so much…why would they with M&Ms and Skittles in competition). There was music. There was an exploding singing candle. There was dirt. There was shrieking. One kid, who shall remain nameless (::cough:: the rabbi’s kid ::cough::) got naked and ran off with the balloon bouquet.

It was the party of my dreams. A backyard bash, more or less low-key, that was so much freakin’ fun. And Ivy was totally into it. She had a blast. She’s going to love Fling at Penn.

Now when I say it was low-key, I meant in terms of the overall grandeur of the event. I’m not so much into mega-parties with elaborate themes and organized activities at whatnot, especially for toddlers who don’t really know the difference. I like putting a personal touch on things I host. I love cooking and baking. It’s like my therapy. I have fun experimenting with new recipes and entertaining and making food look pretty. I loved making everything for Ivy’s party from scratch – the cupcakes, the dips, and even cutting up the fruit and vegetables myself (well okay, I can’t lie – my mom did that, but still). But don’t get me wrong – it was a ton of work.

Remind me again why at 5+ months pregnant I decided to take all of this on?

My body paid big time. By the time the last kid left the yard, the trash had been thrown out, and the leftovers had been stuffed in the fridge, I was ready to collapse. And not just “I need to put my feet up and lounge on the couch watching Food Network” (Cupcake Challenge was on last night). I mean, I needed a serious back readjustment, prenatal massage, and then fall asleep at 8pm alongside Ivy.

And of course, I was hungry. When I’m not pregnant, I’m pretty low-maintenance when it comes to meals and food. But this was not a moment where I felt low maintenance. Despite snacking my way through the party, enjoying dips and veggies and candy and whatnot, Dos and I were now ready for a meal. But I could not bear the thought of going within 15 feet of my kitchen, which is pretty much the distance between there and our bedroom. So cooking was out of the question…not that we had a ton of food besides leftovers, which I also was not interested in touching either. What I really wanted was taquitos. I had been craving them since Friday, when someone in the office was eating them. And I managed to locate a few places where I could acquire this craving of late, so I felt confident that I could indulge at the last minute.

But DAMN YOU Pizza Station (one of the many kosher combo wonders in LA – pizza and vegetarian Mexican food, not unlike Chick’N Chow, which is Chinese and fried chicken)! When you’re already closed 2 weekend nights of the week, how are you CLOSED at 8pm on Sunday?! When I found this out, I cried. I kid you not. I was hungry, exhausted, aching, emotional (my baby is 2!), pregnant, and this was the worst possible news at that moment.

It was one of those moments that was so frustrating because I couldn’t help but think “I’m not even supposed to be pregnant!” Take that out of the equation and I would have just been cranky. But I was miserable.

I crawled in bed and cried some more. My back was throbbing. And poor Mike was curled up in the fetal position, his stomach wreaking havoc on him. We were a mess. So I went out to find food for me and Gatorade for Mike…and I only got as far as CVS for the Gatorade. My back hurt too much and I was just out of energy and ambition to feed myself and Dos. I came home, managed to find a bowl of instant Thai soup from the pantry, and called it a day.

And I cried a little more because I still can’t believe little Ivy is 2. And because the party was so awesome.

Gorgeous Fatties

That's what we're calling ourselves, the posse of IKAR women who are all pregnant. Since we tend to breed in herds in our community, we thought it would be nice to organize some regular get-togethers of the ladies as we go through this experience together. We had the first Gorgeous Fatties gathering on Tuesday night, and it was lovely. The only one missing was Candice, who had her first birthing class at Cedars...we tried to convince her she was going to the wrong party, especially when Mike has already shared the golden rules of giving birth at Cedars (validate parking and bring lots of cash).

We trekked out to Dev's beautiful new house in the Valley, despite evil mid-week traffic. The unofficial theme of the evening was eating, natch. Most of our back and forth emails, once we had decided on the date, were about food. We had all of our cravings represented - yummy baked mac n cheese, bread, more cheese, fruit, salad (threw that in so we could pretend to be healthy), and more bagels, cream cheese and veggies. Are you sensing a theme here? Life is all about carbs and cheese, period.

When we weren't eating, we talked about pregnancy, giving birth and parenting. It was fascinating to hear about the different journeys we've all been on, how we got to where we were, and how we've been navigating this experience. We shared meaningful objects, songs, books, Torah, and laughed a lot. As deep as the conversation got at times, we still talked about boobs...and then we ate some more. We swapped maternity clothes - I contributed a couple shirts and a dress, and scored a comfy summer denim skirt in return. Everyone was a winner!

What I appreciated most about this evening was the opportunity to be with other women...with NO partners or children or other distractions. I realized what a rarity it is to have time like this with my friends. Even when I'm with girlfriends now, I'm usually only half paying attention as I'm trying to make sure Ivy is within eyesight. And when we see each other at IKAR, we're usually distracted by other friends and, you know, praying and stuff. So this was a lovely friends-only, quiet, and meaningful night. We're planning to do it again soon, hopefully before Zuzana gives birth in the next month!

Not to be outdone, Mike is organizing Dudes and Diana, where they will likely NOT talk about their feelings or talk Torah or anything like that, but will drink beer and play video games and bust each other's balls. And he decided it would be at Candice and Diana's house (which is awesome) so he could order Candice to get in the kitchen and cook barefoot and pregnant. She's a really great cook, so I sorta don't blame him for wanting this. Apparently the email thread that has been going around is hilarious. If only I could be a fly on the wall...

And in other news, Ivy had her 2-year check up the other day. She's 29.3 lbs, 34.5" tall, and a great talker (really, I had no idea!). I had been trying to prep her by getting her pumped - "Yay! We're going to see Dr. Pang!" So all morning she was saying "We go to Dr. Paint?" and was excited to get there...until they called us back. Then she freaked. She wasn't even amused by Dr. Pang's Elmo on her stethoscope. And at one point she cried "I wanna go to Dr. Paint!" Everything checked out though - her pigeon toes are nothing to worry about yet (phew!) and she's in overall great shape. And when Dr. Pang got up to leave Ivy ran after her and slammed the door. Guess that's how she felt about that!

This weekend is Ivy's birthday party...we'll be taking over the backyard with cupcakes, a pinata, and other 2-year old amusements. I have a lot of cooking and baking to do, so stay tuned for a recap and pictures.

Speaking of pics, check out this score:

We got this for FREE from one of Mike's coworkers whose kids have long outgrown it. Hooray for recycling expensive baby products!

Two is better than one!

I guess that means a few things these days, but today it means that Ivy turned two!!! She has been talking about this forever. We taught her that her birthday is June 7th, so a safe answer to any question you ask her has been "June 7!" as of late. Well, this morning when she finally woke up, I told her that it was actually June 7 and she was SO EXCITED! She had her favorite yogurt for breakfast, got to watch Goofy Baby even though we were running late (Miss Sleepy Pants decided to sleep in until 8:15), wore a new dress in her favorite color (purple, of course), and posed for some adorable pictures. I was so sad to have to leave her at day care and go to work. This is an unknown phenomenon for me, as a winter break baby who spent all of my birthdays at home without having to go to school or anywhere. But I knew she would have fun. Everyone was so excited to see her and celebrate - all the kids made cards and a special crown, and apparently there was cake.

It must have been some party because she was zonked when we got home! She birthday skyped with the grandparents, GGH, and got more birthday calls than I have for the past 5 years combined. I made her favorite salmon for dinner, and for dessert a delicious ice cream cupcake that she ended up letting Mike and I eat most of. I think the whole concept blew her mind. Believe me, it blew mine too. She put on new birthday jammies after bath, and with a few stories and songs was ready for bed.

It's amazing how fast the last 2 years have flown. Now that I'm pregnant again, I sometimes flash back to be pregnant with Ivy and that was now OVER 2 years ago! She surprises us every day with her wit, intelligence, and smiles and we can't get enough. It's so hard to believe we're going to do it again, but this time with a whole new person AND Ivy to be a part of it. I sometimes don't know if I have the stamina for it - Ivy sure does test us with her tantrums and ever-increasing independence. But she is so wonderful and I know she is going to be a great big sister.

Here is a photo retrospective of the last three June 7th's of our lives:

June 7, 2008

June 7, 2009

June 7, 2010

How I Spent my Staycation (or, Babymoons are for Suckers)

Short answer: doing laundry. (Well, not really. I mean I did do several loads, and somehow our room is still a disaster as I do the clothes transition from cute normal clothes to maternity wear. Ick.)

Welcome to Memorial Day Weekend 2010 - our Babymoon/Staycation. I think babymoons must only be the rage for first time preggers...we were lucky to get to do this in Hawaii the first time around. We had some frequent flier miles to cash in on, and a free week of airport parking, and found a nice yet inexpensive place to stay. Between that and the free rental car upgrade to a topless Jeep, it turned out to be a fairly affordable trip. And it really was, as they all warned, our last real vacation together.

And whoever made up the term "staycation" for people like me who can't afford to take real vacations feel better is of course someone who probably works for a travel section of a newspaper or a travel magazine, so jetsetting to exotic and exciting places is probably one of the perks of their job. They've probably never had to take a staycation. Here's the thing - I like the idea in theory. Avoid the hassles of travel! Save money! Visit places in your hometown that you don't otherwise go! Spend quality time at home!

But in practice I'm not sure I'm the ideal candidate, except for the fact that I don't actually have the money to take a real vacation. I don't find travel to be such a terrible hassle, with proper planning and patience (something I do very well, even though I lack both when it comes to getting out the door in the morning)...I'm pretty go-with-the-flow. We DO get out in LA, and have always made an effort to experience cultural attractions and go to the beach as often as we can. But since we don't really travel for work, or go anywhere else, we don't have that yearning to be home feeling either. In fact, I just spent the last 5 months working from home, so I'm pretty tapped out on how much time I can spend in our little space. And when you add it up, between museum admissions, shops we want to check out, restaurants we want to eat at, parking, driving etc. it's not exactly a free weekend either.

Plus, when I'm at home I'm actually more stressed out. Even if I have nothing to do, and I don't remember when the last time that was, I find myself fixated on what needs to be cleaned, the Closet of Shame that needs to be organized, the piles of crap that need to be put away (i.e. the garbage bag of maternity clothes), what we're cooking for dinner, what ingredients we're missing to make said dinner, not to mention the inevitable distractions of the computer and other time-sucking devices.

A vacation to me is sitting on a beach or by the pool, reading books, sipping fruity drinks, not having to be anywhere or feel the pressure to do anything, maybe taking a walk or a hike, going to bed early, and wearing flip flops 24/7. And if I were to travel somewhere I've never been abroad, I would be on my feet all day, exploring, eating and photographing. But staying home? I need more convincing.

In any case, I was convinced by my parents' offer to take Ivy to their house for the long weekend. We met half way to transfer the child, and did the same 2 days later. Surprisingly, despite my hesitations and misgivings about the whole thing, not to mention missing Ivy like crazy, we had a lovely time. After all, we didn't have much of a choice, since my parents pretty much insisted on whisking Ivy off for her own weekend adventure. The kid got to a baseball game, the zoo, Little Italy for dinner, and play with all the toys at Nana and Papa's house. Crazy times.

Meanwhile, we saw movies (I say "movies" not because we saw more than one, but because we each saw a different one...a split up double date with Tamar and Noam.) We spent Sunday at the beach, where I got caught up on all of my backlogged New Yorkers and got a bit of a belly tan. We went out for a lovely dinner in Malibu, courtesy of Mike's parents as a belated Mother's Day gift. On Monday we ran some errands went to not one but TWO parties. And don't forget about all that laundry! Wow, are we on fire or what?

(We also came home with Ivy who promptly decided to sit on the potty AND poop. But we'll save that for a special "potty training" post or something of the like.)

Moral of the story - I'd rather be gallivanting in the tropics somewhere, but not having to get out of bed at 6:45am to the demanding cries of a toddler is really nice too. Especially when you get to eat breakfast in bed for 2 mornings in a row and you don't end up with crushed cornflakes in the sheets.