June 21, 2013 by suzanne day by day

This Is Mainly Me Being Grouchy But There ARE Photos So Maybe That’s Worth Something

So, I totally got an iPhone. Thank you very much for your helpful comments. I am still not sold that it was a great idea (so expensive!), but I am trying to ease into it. And I think that once I have a bitty baby to photograph 8,000 times a day, I will really appreciate it.

Speaking of which…

Internet, I am appealing to your collective kind nature here:

Please tell me your (PG) “getting labor started” stories.

Because I am ready to get this labor started, and it’s just NOT STARTING. My dear friend Kristina even gave me her No-Fail 3 Step Process and it did not work. Okay, so I only managed two of the three steps, but STILL.

Anyway, I have tried all the methods. (Except I am not drinking castor oil or eating sardines.) And will probably CONTINUE to try all the methods because I have to do SOMETHING while this baby decides whether to show up. What I really want here is COMFORT, possibly humor if you have some to spare.

What I do NOT want are horror stories about being 45 weeks pregnant or being in labor for 108 hours or… anything else that is horrible.

NOR do I want admonishments to “let Nature take its course.” Because I AM. I am not at my doctor’s house, begging her to induce me. No, I am writing this cranky blog post. Nature. Course. I GET IT.

And yet I am tired, Internet. (I know, I will be tireder when the baby arrives. I should sleep now.) (HA.) My belly weighs about a thousand pounds. I wake up 89 times a night to visit the restroom or wonder excitedly whether I’m in labor and then pout glumly when I am NOT, AGAIN. I go to work every day and have to endure, about seven zillion times, “You’re still here?!?” and “What are you DOING here?” and “Where is that baby?!?” Everyone I know is suddenly keenly interested in texting me to find out whether I’ve had the kid or not. (Have not.)

My parents are arriving in the next couple of days, having taken off work specifically to be here for This Joyous Event, and having picked a week so far past my due date they were SURE that there would be an honest-to-goodness infant here when they arrived. IT WOULD BE NICE TO HAVE AN INFANT TO PRESENT THEM.

Also, it’s hot. And my everything is swollen. My toes are so fat, the toenails are digging into the toe meat of the toes that used to be safely out of reach.

Also, the weekly emails that I signed up for to tell me that the baby was the size of a kumquat* or a honeydew melon or whatever? THEY ARE NOW TELLING ME WHAT IT’S LIKE TO HAVE A ONE-WEEK-OLD.

Please, tell me something comforting. Something that YOU, in my position, would have liked to hear.

In return, I am posting the first photos of myself ever in the history of this blog. It may be an inadequate payment, but this is all I have.

Me, at 21 weeks.

This was back in the day when I could still button jackets and sweaters and such.

Me, at 35 weeks.

This was when I felt pregnant, but still cute-ish. I could wear my rings, I could wear shoes. Life was good.

Me, at 41 weeks.

No rings. No ankles. No baby. COME OUT, BABY! COME OUT!

Actually, I don’t even need any Surefire Ways to Get Labor Started stories. I will take ANY stories that will distract me from the fact that there is no baby. ANY STORIES**.

* One week? The fruit the email compared the baby to was a durian fruit. Listen, I know what a durian fruit is because I’ve watched the Food Network for many years. But… it’s not a COMMON fruit. And, even though I happen to know what it IS, I still have never seen one in real life. It’s not something my local grocer puts out among the peaches and the mangoes. PICK A FRUIT EVERYBODY KNOWS, EMAIL. Also, one with less of a reputation for smelling and tasting like garbage flavored morning breath.

**As long as they aren’t horror stories about birth or labor or being overdue.

May 24, 2013 by suzanne day by day

Pregnancy-Related Randomosity

Oh Internet, if I have one complaint about being pregnant (besides morning sickness, which, ACK), it’s the TIRED. It has seriously cramped my blogging style. Not to mention my ability to garden. SHEESH.

Anyway, I am presented with a rare few hours of wakefulness that are free for reading and writing and, well, here are some things.

I’m pretty sure it was a Mother’s Day kind of thing, not a personal targeting of ME, but all the TV ads lately have been so baby centric. Which means that every time I watch TV I end up sobbing over a Target ad or trying to convince my husband that we NEED to buy a Subaru.

Hormones, man. Am I right? These moe-foes is CRAZY.

You know I’m an anal-retentive over-thinker a planner, right? So I have been continually perplexed by trying to plan for something that is so very unknown. It would be nice to have some diapers in the house when the baby gets here… but… how do you know which SIZE the baby will need? Some babies need newborn size diapers. Others are big enough to skip right past them – or to need them for a super short time. And what about clothing? How many newborn onesies do you NEED? Like, reasonably? And how many 0-3 months?

And why is infant clothing sizery so CONFUSING? Does 0-3 months mean “big enough for your kid to grow into between age just-popped-out and 3 months”? Or does it mean, “some newborns will fit this outfit, and some 3-month-olds will fit it, just depends on your particular baby, and you won’t know for sure until the kiddo gets here so better not take off any tags or do any laundry”? These things are making it very hard to plan.

Now that it’s no longer winter and I can’t hide behind coats, people are noticing – and commenting on – the belly. So far, no one has tried to touch me. Which is a huge relief. I must give off a tangible forcefield of I Will Slap You If You Put Your Hands On My Abdomen.

There is, though, the one Checkout Girl at my local grocery store who notices me every week and makes a comment… even though it’s clear – CLEAR – that she is confident she’s never seen me before in her life. It’s actually kind of funny. We go through the same song and dance every week. “Oh congratulations! Do you know what you’re having? How far along are you? My sister had a baby FIVE WEEKS early, so you just never know!” Every week. EVERY WEEK. It’s gotten a little tiresome on my end, although she’s so sweet about it I really shouldn’t complain. But I have been contemplating switching things up on her next time. Telling her I’m due in December. Acting offended and saying I’m not pregnant. You know. Mean things that poor sweet Checkout Girl does not deserve.

Speaking of people at the grocery store saying sweet things: A twenty-something girl in front of me in line the other day spotted my belly and her whole face lit up and she exclaimed, “Oh, happy baby!” like someone might do after discovering it was your birthday or anniversary. It was adorable.

One of my former coworkers is pregnant, with her second. When we were exchanging all the pertinent details – how we’re feeling, due date, whether we’d learned the sex – I discovered that she and her husband know the baby’s sex… but are keeping it a secret. I’ve never heard that one before – have you? I mean, I know some people don’t find out the sex at all… and some people keep the baby’s name a secret until the birth… but I’ve never heard of keeping the sex secret. I don’t approve or disapprove – whatever, dude – but I found it interesting because I’ve never heard of it being done.

I spend half my time trying to reassure my coworkers that I am totally FINE, there’s no reason I can’t carry that (really not-heavy – I’m not an idiot) small box of letters to someone else’s office or attend such-and-such work event that involves standing and I can certainly walk up the stairs or down the street to lunch… and the other half I spend feeling petulant that my husband doesn’t forcibly prevent me from emptying the dishwasher.

By the way, I dutifully took your (Swistle’s) advice and went looking for a rocker/recliner after I wrote about gliders many moons ago. But I ran into trouble immediately. Firstly, it was harder than y’all made it sound to find a chair that both rocks AND reclines. Secondly, the ones I did find were ooogly. Then, my in-laws bought the uber-expensive Pottery Barn glider I’d been drooling over in the first place, so I stopped looking. Hopefully it is exactly what we need.

(The matching ottoman showed up several weeks ago. But… the actual CHAIR has yet to materialize.)

Can we talk about the hospital bag? I’m pretty sure I should pack one… and I’ve read ALL THE LISTS on the Internet (including Emily’s massive and wonderful hospital bag compendium), and yet I just can’t bring myself to pack things. For one thing, denial, probably. For another, what is the actual BAG you need? A mini suitcase? A gym bag? One of those reusable grocery store bags? I feel like just knowing what size bag I need will help immensely.

Also, I feel like I have to BUY STUFF to put into the bag. Like something to wear during the delivery. I’m not going to go all out and buy one of those Pretty Pushers gowns or anything – that’s just not my kind of thing. But I would like to emulate the girl in one of the horrific videos we watched during our birthing class: she had a sports bra and a little tennis skirt type thing on that made her seem simultaneously modest and well-prepared and also sporty. Who doesn’t want to feel sporty while pushing a human out of her nether regions?

Of course, I OWN sports bras. But… They are mainly pre-pregnancy sports bras, which means that a) they are really tight these days and b) they aren’t nursing compatible and c) they are obviously totally inadequate for Giving Birth.

Another thing I need? Clothes for the trip home. Supposedly, I will look/feel around six months pregnant when I leave the hospital. Fine. I have clothes I can wear. But… are they really the RIGHT clothes? It will likely be hot outside, so I don’t want leggings. Plus, I hear that tight things aren’t so comfortable right away. But if I don’t wear leggings and some sort of loose top, what do I wear? I have a black sundress that would work – cotton, comfy, and if it gets soiled I won’t care. But… do you really leave the hospital in a sundress? That seems inappropriate, somehow, but I don’t know WHY. So then I go back to leggings… but what SHIRT would I wear? Don’t I need a nursing top? If so, I have to BUY one. (Which, yes, I guess I will have to do at some point ANYWAY, but sheesh. So much BUYING STUFF.)

By the way, these are the ridiculous circular arguments I am having with myself about EVERYTHING on my Hospital Bag list.

And then what about the baby’s coming home outfit? I fell down a coming-home-outfit wormhole the other day from which I barely survived… and I STILL don’t know what it should be. Partly because I don’t have any idea HOW BIG THE BABY WILL BE. GAH.

Okay, Internet. That’s all I have for you.

March 26, 2013 by suzanne day by day

If You Have Strong Opinions About Gliders, This Post Is for You!

Internet, I need your advice.

(Let’s be honest, I need your advice about a LOT of things. I get into a panic about pretty much All Things Baby. But let’s start with one simple question and… see where that takes us.)

When planning for our nursery, my husband and I knew that we would want a chair of some sort for reading and breastfeeding and general cuddling-and-shushing purposes.

We went into the nursery-planning process with the idea that we would buy as much transitional furniture as possible. We have a guest room established, and an office, so we figure this will be The Baby’s Room for… until The Baby has turned into The Sullen Teenager.

We (or actually my far-too-kind-and-generous parents) got a crib that is one of those “Lifetime Sleeping Apparatus” things that adjusts to a toddler bed and then can be easily converted into a full-size bed down the road.

(Here is where I say that I only ever had a twin bed, and so did my husband, and we both turned out FINE and clearly we are already spoiling the stuffing out of this kiddo.)

Instead of a “real” changing table, we (again, my wonderful parents) got a dresser that has a changing table attachment. That way, the kiddo will transition nicely over the years from diapers and burp rags to snarls of underwear and mismatched socks and Whatever-the-Kids-Wear-in-the-Future.

(Here is where I say that the prospect of having a teenager never really entered into my initial I Want a Baby thinking, and the whole thing kind of renders me gape-mouthed and stunned.)

(Not stunned enough to stop typing. I’m sorry.)

We wanted to apply the same “transitional” thinking to our choice of chair. So we found a beautiful arm chair at Pottery Barn Kids that starts life as a glider and has feet you can install down the line (sold separately) to transform it into a regular old armchair.

Here is the armchair:

This is the color we’d want. Probably we’d have to enrobe it in plastic or something though, right? To protect it from spit up ETCETERA? (Photo from PotteryBarnKids.com)

Isn’t it lovely, Internet?

Of course, it also comes with a price tag that will make you consider taking up carpentry just so you can build your own chair instead.

But, honestly, I have no idea what to pay for a stupid glider, and it seems comparable in price to other gliders out there.

I shared our choice with a few people, and one mom suggested that such a sinky, comfy chair might pose difficulties whilst holding a sleeping baby. Namely, that it might be difficult to RISE from the chair with a baby in my arms.

Sounds reasonable, and it was something I hadn’t thought of. I didn’t have any spare babies lying around, but the next time I was in the area, I stopped by the PBK and sat in the chair with my purse cradled in my arms (football hold style) and tried to get up. It wasn’t… impossible. But it wasn’t… easy.

Then again, I’m not sure it would be easy EVER. In any kind of chair. Barring a chair that could mechanically stand me up and push me out of it, that is.

My stomach muscles aren’t really working as well as they have in the past, after all.

Otherwise, the chair was still lovely: comfortable, with thick padded arms and that nice rocking feature. There’s an optional ottoman you can get with it (for another arm and a leg). The wingback style is nice because you can rest your head against the “wings” and take a little snooze. I mean, that’s what happens when you stagger out of bed in the middle of the night to feed your child, right? Snoozing? What do I know.

Anyway, once I had the idea planted in my head that this chair maybe wasn’t ideal, I started looking around.

The first thing I noticed was that these armchair-style gliders are POPULAR.

(And expensive.)

In fact, it’s difficult to find NON-armchair type gliders. At least in the three stores we visited. Which… please don’t make me go to more stores. The three I’ve visited are overwhelming enough.

But the stores/websites I visited had another style of glider that seemed, well, less popular but still not unusual (this one is also from Pottery Barn Kids):

I also really love the side table here. And the color scheme. And the wall. (Photo from PotteryBarnKids.com)

My husband and I tried a few of them at non-PBK stores. While I don’t mind them, he is not a big fan. And even I have to admit: most of them are kind of ugly. (I know, I know – personal preference and all that.)

But, while they are still ridiculously expensive, they are LESS expensive than the PBK armchair.

My husband points out, however, that this version of glider is much less flexible in terms of Future Use. It would always be a glider. (I grew up in a house with a glider in the living room, so it seems like a perfectly normal piece of living room furniture, but I think it screams Baby’s Room! to my husband.)

And then another mom pointed out that THIS version of glider has lots of moving parts. Which would be dangerous for little fingers.

So now I have visions of our poor baby’s mangled hands floating through my already-anxiety-addled brain.

It seems like there is a third version: the Straight-Up Rocking Chair.

The least expensive option, but still not FREE. (Teeny tiny photo and giant chair name both from Overstock.com)

But Internet… I don’t know.

This chair looks functional.I don’t find it… UNattractive.

It just… I just can’t picture hours of cuddling in that chair with my baby. I can’t picture us curling up together to read Babar’s Travels or Corduroy or Goodnight Moon. I can’t picture myself feeding a snuggly sleepy infant – comfortably – in that chair. And I certainly can’t picture myself getting a few more winks in while the baby – safely – finishes a meal.

As with all things related to babies and parenting and the seemingly endless array of Things You Just MUST Have, this glider decision is fraught with so many issues! Safety! And Comfort! And Cost Effectiveness! And Functionality! And Durability! And Other As-Yet-Unconsidered Considerations! And and and!

But YOU. You MUST have The Perfect Glider Answers to all my glider questions, right, Internet?

Here goes:

What glider did/do you use? Why did you choose it? Why did you choose NOT to get other versions? Are there options I’m overlooking here? Do you think it’s smart or foolish to try to buy furniture for the baby that will last for the next decade or so? Do/did you use your glider after the baby grew out of it? What, for the love of cupcakes, is an actual REASONABLE price to pay for a glider? And WHY, WHYYYYYY is everything baby-related SO EXPENSIVE?