My First Baby

I'll return to tales of Mexico...until then please indulge me in a little sad moment.

Within a day I posted an ad selling my road bike, had one guy come over and within in ten minutes I was giving my baby away.  I got to admit, I was sort of emotional letting my bike go.  In 2003, I entered a bike store in Salt Lake, announced I wanted to buy a bike, test rode my newly departed bike, crashed it (Yeah, you read that right.  I actually crashed my bike while I was test riding it and came back into the bike store covered in dirt and blood.  As I was cleaning up in the back, and attempting to muster enough courage to face the bike store workers, I decided to face my beast and buy the bike.)  Through 8 years of riding I've seen almost every canyon in Salt Lake, I've ridden through a torrential downpour in Idaho, I've had water balloons thrown at me in LA and I've worked out more problems and come to more moments of clarity than I can count while pumping along on that saddle.  I don't know if it's because I'm approaching motherhood, but if this is what it's like to see your child go off to school for the first time I don't think I'll be able to handle it. 

So long little black beauty, it's been a hell of a ride.

Pregnancy According to Cabo

Last week the husband and I traveled to Cabo San Lucas.  The following entries will be some of my thoughts on the trip.  (By the way, Cabo: very cool.)

While we were in Cabo I found the Mexican peoples' reactions to my pregnancy rather strange.  For example, the other day we were walking on the beach and a peddler of fine, and obviously very authentic, Mexican jewelry approached us and said, "You want to buy jewelry?"  To which we politely responded, "No, gracias."  (Thank you Unionville and your high level Spanish training.)  He then said, "You want to buy some clothes," to which we again said, "No, gracias mi amigo."  (I know it will be hard to believe, but I did not, let me repeat, did not serve a mission in a Spanish speaking country.)  Then without warning, and I would like to add he did look down and see my bulging stomach, "You want weed?"  I got to say, I absolutely loved the jump from simple trinkets to entreating us with mary jane.  It truly was an ingenious retail move: Know your client...know their wants...get them the goods.

As great as the marijuana proposal was, I equally admired the Mexicans' desire for me to drink while pregnant.  Outside of being asked what cocktail I would like at every meal and every time I found myself at the pool, I was also informed by a professional Cabo San Lucasian (I made that up) skipper that his wife used to drink all the time during her pregnancy and found tequila to be the best relaxer for all those stressful pregnancies moments.  Huh?  Tequila during pregnancy?  Genius again.

So there you have it all you stuffy and uptight mothers to be.  If you want a truly successful pregnancy, according to the good people of Cabo, grab some tequila, roll a little doobie and call it a day.

Momma Jeans

Yes, I'm trying not to write solely about being pregnant, but there's just so many random topics floating in my head right now.

Current random thought: Maternity Pants are the coolest things in the entire world.

If you don't think so, one, I will fight you physically to convince you, and two, I ask that you spend one day in them because I know it will only take one day to convince you.  Why are they so amazing?  I feel like it's pointless to list their merits, but because my cyber-self asked the question I will tell you.

1. Have you ever seen pull-ups for kids?  You know the diapers kids can just pull down and pull up after they are done with their business?  Well, take that concept to maternity pants.  Picture going to the bathroom, or if that image makes you feel strange, picture trying on clothes.  Remember all the annoying zipping and buttoning?  Well, now with maternity pants you just pull them down and then back up.  You are literally getting extra time of life with these bad boys.

2. I don't know about you, but I've always wanted to live in a world where it was okay to unzip my pants after eating.  However, being a "lady" never really allowed for such actions, but now, I don't need to do any unzipping.  These maternity pants have the elastic just below my breasts (yeah, I said breasts) and I love it.  Not the word "breasts", but the looseness around my stomach area.  I have never enjoyed meals as much. Honestly, I'm not sure if I'm ever going to be able to go back to normal pants...definitely not for Thanksgiving.

3. Maternity pants just give you the ultimate confidence to bend over and pick something up.  I'm no longer worried that people behind me are going to catch a sweet view of my crack or minimal lower back hair.  Nope, not anymore.  Now, I'm like, "Did you drop this?" or "Please, let me bend down and see those shoes for myself" because all people are seeing is one continuous jean up my back.

4. If you ever are in a hip hop mood then Maternity Pants are AGAIN amazing.  Why?  Alright, take that extra long top, pull it down to your actual waste and you know what you got?  About a foot of extra pant just hanging down.  This style makes even MC Hammer a little jealous.  Sometimes I'll do this around the house, pretend I'm rapping and grabbing my crotch, which is actually about a foot away from my actual crotch.  It makes me feel so gansta.

Yes, four reasons is all you get...because friends, men and women, these pants are life changing.  Allow them into your lives and you will be forever grateful.

The P Word

The other day at work I was asked by a customer, who is most likely in his early 40s, if I was "in the family way."  Wow, I cannot explain the restraint this customer was asking me to have in answering this question. This was truly the soft balls of all soft balls for a overtly sarcastic person.  At first, I wanted to respond with something incredibly gratuitous like, "Yep, the husband and I got frisky and now my insides are knocked up."  And then I thought going with something more tame, but equally as sarcastic like, "Why yes, and it's simply amazing it happened since I spend all my time in the kitchen cooking roasts and that we sleep in separate single beds."  And finally, I wrestled with the tried and true of, "What?  AM I PREGNANT?  Say it.  Pregnant.  Yes, I'm the "P" Word.  PREGNANT."

Fortunately, for him, and unfortunately for my self-worth, I just answered, "Yea."  Oh, what could have been.

Grapes Of My Wrath

When I was in high school we had to read a ridiculous amount of books during the school year and during the summer.  I wish I could tell you those books made an impact, but all I can remember is my English teacher in 9th grade using the "f" word over and over again as he talked about Holden Caulfield in Catcher in The Rye, how absolutely confusing Catch-22 was and how disturbed I was that at the end (Spoiler Alert) of Ethan Frome that it ended in a sledding accident.  Yeah, a sledding accident.  Totally a literary classic. 

Therefore, since I gained next to nothing to those countless hours of "reading/perusing Cliffnotes" I, along with my book club, (yeah, am in a book club.  What I'm 33?) decided to revisit Grapes of Wrath.  I figured this time around I would approach the book with a more mature and educated perspective than I did at 15, when I first read the book.  Unfortunately, the only new perspective I had was: THEY MADE US READ THIS IN HIGH SCHOOL?  First, this book is insanely depressing and no high school student, especially one at Unionville High School (What, what Indians) could possibly understand the depravity and desperation of this story.  I think I remember thinking, "Cool, they are taking a road trip in a big truck."  Yeah, I missed the point of this book.  Secondly, no I'm not a prude, but there's definitely some mature language and themes going on.  (Again, spoiler alert) the book ends with a nursing girl feeding a hungry man from her breast.  Do I remember this ending?  Actually I do because at 15 you find...well, at 33 and pregnant, you find the whole concept of nursing incredibly disturbing.  I also remember our teacher trying to explain how moving this ending was.  Moving?  Moving me to hurl as the guy next to me looks at me with that, "You wanna try?" look?

So, here I am...still incredibly confused by my high school reading list.  Thanks Unionville for the memories and scars.