Words of Wisdom: Morning Sickness

My mom owns the Better Homes and Garden Baby Book, published in 1943.  I am always quite interested about . . . let’s call it Modern History.  I am amazed how much our society has changed in sixty/fifty years.  My favorite example is my copy of a reprinted Betty Crocker Cookbook, where in the back it suggests lying on the kitchen floor to take a quick nap with a cartoon illustration of a woman actually lying on the kitchen floor as though she passed out from the wrong cleaning fumes.  It’s hilarious.  So far I have only skimmed the first part of the book, and I would like to share one of my favorite passages.

 

Although one-half to two-thirds of all expectant mothers have experienced nausea, especially in the first months of pregnancy, doctors today feel that much of the morning sickness in early pregnancy stems from a psychological rather than physical cause.  They believe that it results from the deep emotions that are aroused when a woman becomes aware that she is pregnant.  Some doctors think, too, that the fact that many women expect to be nauseated and vomit when they’re pregnant may account for “morning sickness.” (pg 39)

 

Now you can understand why I am filled with deep emotions when I read this as I am not sure whether to laugh or cry.  I can guarantee you that my morning sickness was not due to a psychological cause but that for some reason I couldn’t keep anything down for several months and that fetus Evan despised Baja-style tacos.  Since my mother and my grandma never had morning sickness (which I do believe just shows that life is just unfair and this is not genetic), I did not expect to have morning sickness.  But I had it in abundance, getting worse with Sean’s pregnancy.

 

Obviously the passage was written by a man and those “doctors” were men too.  Before you think we’ve moved on, let me assure you my husband came home one day to tell me that he thought my morning sickness was all in my head.  That my husband is alive today is a testament to my sainthood.  Please let the Vatican know.

 

I find it crazy that one-half to two-thirds of pregnant women were blatantly ignored, brushed over, disregarded over their feelings, their vomiting.  Heck, when they noticed that one-eighth (not a meager one-half) of men become prematurely bald, researchers were falling all over themselves to find out why, when, how, and a goddamn cure.  So where’s my goddamn cure?  (Sorry, I’m getting a little carried away.  Just wait until I return to the throws of morning sickness.) 

 

Today researchers believe that morning sickness is caused by the increased amount of hormones in the body.  Research shows no good evidence that morning sickness is in the head.  Many nurses will gleefully tell you that morning sickness is a sign that the baby is developing well.  My doctor assured me it was a good sign without the glee probably because I would not except the glee from anyone with a pair of testicles without a good kick to them.

 

It’s just nice to have a laugh once in a while at what used to be.

 

However if you’re experiencing this discomfort, it would be hard for anyone to convince you that you’re imagining things. (pg 39)

 

No shit.  It’s sort of like someone telling you that your broken arm is all in your head even though the arm is hanging crooked.

 

 

 

To be continued  . . . With words of wisdom of loosing baby weight.

 

 

Vote for my post on Mom Blog Network

Easter and Spring Crafts for Toddlers, Preschoolers, and Kids

Is it already Easter time?  That was fast.  Luckily I have a few crafts up my sleeve, so we’ll be calling this the Spring/Easter bird and flower crafts because I realized that’s all we did these last few days. 

As always these crafts are suited from 18 months and up, depending on how much parental help is needed.  As for egg cartons, I prefer the cardboard type as they are easier to color, using crayons, markers and color pencils.  But this time I did the crafts with a Styrofoam egg carton, which can only be colored on with crayon and some pressure.

 

Coffee Filter Carnations

(I like “tye-dying” coffee filters because they look neat and the boys like to do it.  You can make plain white flowers or just color them with markers.  The boys enjoyed this craft quite a bit.)

Things you need:

{     Coffee filters

{     Markers

{     Smock

{     Water

{     Paint brush

{     Green pipe cleaners

Have the child color three coffee filters with the markers to make one flower.  When the child is done coloring, have him/her paint the coffee filters with water.  When the coffee filters are dry, take the filters and fold them, squish them together to look like a carnation.  Twist the pipe cleaner around the bottom of the “flower.”

 

Egg Carton Tulips

(These seem to be everywhere in the craft sites, so I decided to try them.  Evan had a lot of fun making them, but he preferred white tulips rather than coloring them.  I think they might make a nice bouquet for grandma.)

Things you need:

{     Egg carton

{     Scissors

{     Crayons, markers, colored pencils

{     Glue

{     Green pipe cleaners

Cut the egg carton into little cups.  For young children, have them color the egg carton before you cut out the details to make it easier for them to color.  Cut upside down triangles of the open end of each side of the cup to resemble a tulip shape.  Punch a whole in the bottom of the carton for the pipe cleaner.  Have the child color the flower.  Push the pipe cleaner through the hole and make a knot at the end.  Add a dab of glue to the cup to keep the pipe cleaner from slipping.

 

Paper chick

(I had a vision of a cute little chick, so we made these.  The boys had a lot of fun making them.  They especially liked showing Daddy.)

Things you need:

{     Yellow construction paper

{     Orange construction paper

{     Any other color construction paper

{     Two traceable circles, one smaller than the other (I used two different butter tub lids)

{     Pen

{     Scissors

{     Glue

{     Googley eyes (optional)

{     Brown yarn (optional)

Using the circles, trace two circles on the yellow construction paper, one for the head, one for the body.  Cut out a diamond shape out of the orange construction paper for the beak.  Fold the diamond in half to form a triangle beak.  Have the child glue the body and head onto the other sheet of paper.  Have the child glue googley eyes or draw eyes on the head.  Have the child glue the beak.  For extra fun, cut a long piece of yarn and have the child tangle it up.  Glue the tangle of yarn underneath the bird to make a nest.

 

Pom-pom Chicks

(I’ve always adored pom-pom chicks because I thought they were so cute, but I realized it would be a few years before we could handle something as delicate as an egg shell.  So I decided to use a plastic egg shell, and Evan especially loves having his chick “hatch” because he has the top part of the shell too.  I wonder if they would be great surprises in an egg hunt.)

Things you need:

{     Plastic egg

{     Two yellow pom poms (We used the 1 ½ in pom poms)

{     Two googley eyes or black beads

{     Orange construction paper or craft foam

{     Glue

{     Scissors

Cut out a small triangle out of the orange paper for the beak.  Have the child glue the first pom pom in the bottom of the plastic egg.  Then have the child glue the second pom pom on top of the first, creating the body.  Have the child glue the eyes and the beak.

 

Rock-a-bye-Birdies

(I thought this was the cutest craft ever, but it had those pesky blown egg shells.  Well, never mind, I used plastic eggs instead.  Evan loved it so much I never got around to putting on the ribbon before he took off with his, naming it Pumpkin.  So ribbon is optional.  The boys loved making them and playing with them.I found them on this site: http://jas.familyfun.go.com/crafts?page=CraftDisplay&craftid=12151)

Things you need:

{     Egg carton

{     Plastic egg

{     Tissue paper

{     Googley eyes

{     Orange construction paper or craft foam

{     Scissors

{     Glue

{     Ribbon

Cut a small triangle out of the orange paper for the beak.  Cut a strip of tissue paper to wrap around the bottom of the egg like a blanket.  Poke a hole on either side of the carton and tie the ribbon to it, making a swing.  Have the child glue the tissue around the egg.  Have the child glue the egg inside the carton.  Have the child glue the eyes and the beak.

 

 Check out more Easter crafts here.

Vote for my post on Mom Blog Network

How to say animal names: a toddler’s perspective

Animals according to Sean

Dog= daaaa

Cat= meow

Horse= neigh

Chicken= chi-chi

Cow=?

Goat=?

Sheep= baaa

Spider= *makes a hand spider*

 

Vote for my post on Mom Blog Network

Journal Meme

I’m only doing this so that Ink will publish a journal entry.

 

 1. When did you begin keeping a journal/diary?  I dabbled in high school on loose leaf paper when I needed to get all those confusing emotions out.  Several of my good friends gave me journals when I graduated high school.  I finally cracked one open to use it mid way through my freshman year in college. 

2. Do you journal regularly or sporadically?  I used to regularly write throughout college.  Now it’s sporadic when I need some sort of catharsis.  Nothing is better to keep secrets or pain locked away.

3. Which, if any, of the following things do you use your journal for?: recording dreams, creative writing, arguing with particular individuals (your boss, your parents, your lover, etc.), listing books/movies, tracking your weight/diet/exercise, composing unsent/unsendable letters.  It used to be a chronicle of my life.  Now it’s more when I need to say something, to pour out the negative feelings and worries, so that I can keep being an up-beat parent.  I tried to record dreams, but I’ve always been one of those up and running kind of people.

4. What other purpose(s) do you use your journal for?  Isn’t this like question number 3?  It’s the place were I put all my raw emotions to be trapped in dead paper.  A place where I can sound out what I need to listen for.

5. What kind of material text do you use for a journal? (For example: leather bound hard-cover, cheap spiral notebook, etc.)  I hunt down ones with fairies on it.  Surprise.  Surprise.  I almost always write in black ink.  There used to be these great black ink pens I used to use, but they are no longer on the market.  My brother bought me a couple of journals and pens for my last birthday.

6. Where do you keep your old journals?  Um, I call it my soul box because it has all kinds of important, soul-telling items in it.  I collaged it with all kinds of cool sayings on the outside.

7. How often, if ever, have you read through your old journals?   I used to go through them once a year to better connect with myself.  But I haven’t done that for years. 

8. Have you ever allowed anyone else to read your journals?  No.  Actually I’ve made my best friend promise to burn them if she outlives me.  I just sound so  . . . childish.  And it’s a written record of plain stupidity in a lot of places.  I totally don’t want my kids to know what kind of trouble their mama was into. 

9. How has your journal keeping changed since you began blogging?  Because I devote so much time to the blog, I tend not to journal as much as I did.  Besides it’s nice to call up your best friend and bitch.

10. Upload a picture of your journals (or as many as you can).  Hahahahaha.  We all know how I don’t do pictures.  Stupid Vista hates my scanning program.

A Journal Entry

The other week Inktopia did this interesting journal meme, which I thought was really cool.  But I didn’t participate because I don’t journal anymore.  I used to.  I loved it.  I would seat by one of the college water fountains and write every day.  It got to the point that not only did my friends and teachers know where to find me but that random strangers would stop and talk to me, to tell me how neat it was that I wrote every day.  But life happened.  Babies happened, so I slid my journals away with the promise that my best friend would burn them when I died because no one needs to know how silly I was, how stupid I was, how horny I was as a young woman.  Basically if my boys find them, I might die of embarrassment.

 

 

‘Bout ten years old, hide and seek
I found me in the closet
Ready or not I stumbled on
And opened up that box of
Yearbooks, letters, black and whites
A hundred, maybe more
Next thing I know my brothers and me
Got ‘em scattered on the floor (Yeah)

There was one of her, flippin’ the bird
Sittin’ on a Harley
And a few with some hairy hippie dude
Turns out his name was Charlie
Her hair, her clothes, her drinkin’ smokin’
Had us boys confused
I’ll never forget the day us nosey kids got introduced

To Mama, ‘fore she was Mama
In a string bikini, in Tijuana
Won’t admit she smoked marijuana
But I saw Mama, ‘fore she was Mama

-Clay Walker “’Fore Mama Was Mama”

 

 

 

But I digress.  In the comments, Ink decided that we should publish an entry.  So I plan to anti up and force her hand.  A random journal and a random entry.

 

 

 

3/18/01

 

        It’s a beautiful day.

                Sun shine

                Not too hot, not too cold

                A cool breeze.

 

        Spring returns; we dance to welcome her gentle presence

                more gentle in some areas.

                        like here.

 

        I don’t want to do my school work because I would rather enjoy the day.

        Honoring it as we all should

        Breathing in its beauty, glory.

        Enjoying each day like the last.

 

        How do you take each day like it is your last if you must prepare for the future,

                doing all those mundane things that keep the world turning?

                bills, schoolwork, grocery shopping.

        I guess you have to make the most of it all,

                finding the worthwhile moments,

                                        movements.

        Drink in it all like some precious liquor.

 

        I feel relaxed.

                        Like a cat waking from a nap,

                realizing I can just lay here to watch the world go by.

        But will I be content to just watch?

                Most likely not.

        Only in my outside human existence was I content.

                Those never last long.

        I need activity,

                        to stretch my muscles,

                        to push my mind.

        Seize the day.

        Seize the night.

 

Only Monica and I were excited over having more powerful jaws than sharks.

        Because we know we’re amazing.

        Everyone else laughs, calling it useless information.

        But we are so wonderful, complex, powerful, beautiful.,

        Humans are awe-inspiring.

        What animal is as beautiful as we?

        With the self-realization of that beauty.

        We are unique.

        Why is it a joke?

        Monica was so excited, just like me, with a mouth gasping for air, eyes filled with awe, power, excitement.

        We are the princes of the universe.

 

 

 

 

And yes, I wrote like that.  Yes, I do think I’m a nerd.

Update: New Year’s Resolutions

Remember back in the beginning of the year when we were all thinking about New Year’s resolutions.  So I wrote mine down.  Then I promised to check on them.  I’m happy to report that I am doing half of them.

 

  1. We’re eating right.  Even though we ate a lot of meals at my parents’ house, where the traditional meal is maybe one vegetable, I am now serving fruits with breakfast and fruits and vegetables at lunch.  Now if only the boys would eat them . . . .  Well, at least I’m cooking healthier foods, and even the deserts have puree or flax seed meal in them.
  2. Now I didn’t put this on my blog, but I was thinking about BadMommyMoments dental issues, and I realized I wasn’t taking good care of my teeth or skin, which was apparent last summer when they removed a hunk of cancer out of my back.  But since the New Year, I have learned to floss every day and working to do it twice a day.  I’ve got a real skin care regime and hardly miss a day without sunscreen.  And yes, I’m following the doc’s orders and wearing wide brim hats.

 

As for the two other things, the organizing and publishing, well, I’m kinda lapsing. 

 

On the publishing resolution, I have been playing with the idea of starting a website or a blog for the crafts, which I think would count.   I’m making steps toward it at least.  Then I’ve decided since I moved close to my parents that I could ask my mom to watch the boys once a month or so, and then I would have a whole day to work on writing and publishing.

 

As for being more organized, I could blame the move.  I want to blame the move, but the fast is I was hoping to just loose all the paperwork and start over.  Instead, my husband brought all the paperwork with him, including all that mail, so I ran from nothing.  Now I have an office filled with boxes and several stacks of paper.  Now, where did that electric bill go?

 

That’s my check in.  I’m not doing as well as BadMommyMoments, but hers took guts.  I’m just trying to be a little honest with my self.  Hopefully, I’ll just get over it and tackle what I need to.

We don’t negotiate with terrorists

Me: Ok, Evan, Sean, Daddy, we’re leaving the park in ten minutes.

 

My husband: Sounds good.

 

***

Me: Evan, Five minutes!  Sean, five minutes!

 

My husband: Ok, five minutes.

 

***

Me: Ok.  We’re going!  Sean, Evan, one more time down the slide, and then we’re leaving.

 

Evan: How about two more times?

 

Me: No, just one more time.

 

Evan: Ok. Ok. How about three more times?

 

Me: No, just one more time.

 

Evan: Ok.  Ok.  How about one more time and four more times?

 

Me: We don’t negotiate with t- With boys.  One more time down the slide.

 

Evan: Ok.  Ok.  Two more times!

 

Evan finished going down the slide and started to climb up again.  I close lined him and carried him over my shoulder until I dumped him in the wagon. 

 

Me: Just one time.

 

 

Vote for my post on Mom Blog Network

What’s that noise?: A way to get Mom in the room and get a baby brother in trouble

It was night.  I had put the boys to bed twenty minutes earlier. The next door neighbor’s dog started barking, again, but at least it was because my brother had pulled up front with his noisy bronco.

 

Evan: Mommy!  Mommy!  Mooooommmmmmyyyyyy!

 

Me: (walking into the room, talking in a hush voice) What’s wrong, Evan?  Shhh.  Your brother is sleeping.

 

Evan: Seanny woke me up!

 

Me: (There is no way Evan was already asleep as he was in deep conversation with Toothy his dinosaur just five minutes earlier.) Sh.  What did Seanny do?

 

Sean snores, but his snore is barely loud enough to reach the end of his bed.

 

Evan: Seanny was barking!

 

Pause.  Deep breath to keep the laughter out of my voice.

 

Me: That was the neighbor’s dog.  Now close your eyes and go to sleep.

Vote for my post on Mom Blog Network

There’s a Wocket in my Pocket!

Evan: Mommy, are you ever certain there’s a ghair on your chair?

 

Me: (washing dishes without looking up) Sometimes.

 

Evan: Mommy, is there a ghair on your chair?

 

Me: (looking up to see Evan draped on the top of my wing-backed chair) Why, I do believe there is a ghair on my chair.

 

*an hour later*

The boys are watching TV, and I read my book.

 

Evan: Is there a ghair on your chair?

 

Me: (looking up, smiling) Yes, there is a ghair on the chair.

 

Evan: Is that a bofa on the sofa?

 

Me: (Realizing I’m the only one on the sofa) Yes, I’m the bofa on the sofa.

 

Evan: Do you ever get the feeling there’s a B.T. watching T.V?

 

Me: (Looking at Sean, standing, mesmerized by Kai-Lan) Yes, I do have the feeling there’s a B.T. watching TV.

 

*a few days later and several more ghairs on the chairs*

 

Evan: Mommy.  There’s a sick ghair on your chair.

 

Me: I know, big guy, and he’ll be well soon.

 

 

 

“I don’t care

If you believe it.

That’s the kind of house

I live in.

And I hope

We never leave it.”

-Dr. Seuss

 

Vote for my post on Mom Blog Network

Dada? No, Mama.

Sean: Dada.  Dada.  Dada!  Dada!

 

Me: Oh, baby.  Dada isn’t here right now.  But Mama is!

 

Sean: (Grabs my hand to lead me to what he wants) Dada.

 

Me: No, Mama.  I’m Mama.

 

Sean: Dada?

 

Me: Mmmaaaaammmaa.

 

Sean: Dada!

 

Ok.  Listen, kid.  You’re adorable.  If your father was here, this would melt his heart.  Heck, it’s even pulling on my heart strings.  But I WILL NOT ANSWER TO DADA.  I can’t.  I can try, but it won’t work.  You see, it’s like this.  I carried you for nine, almost ten, months.  You were heavy.  I had horrible morning sickness and acid reflux.  You grew until I had no room in me.  Then after you were born, I was the one who fed you, changed you, rocked you, sang to you, read to you, bathed you.  Not dada, mama.  You ate tons.  I sacrificed hours to feed you.  When you were sick, that was me taking care of you.  Who held you and cooed to you as you got stitches?  Mama, not dada.  Who held you when you got shots?  Mama, not dada.  Who cooks you your favorite meals?  Mama, not dada.  Who buys all the gifts, wakes up with you early in the morning, repeatedly reties the shoes your dada picked out?  Mama.  It’s not like we even look the same.  I’m taller, thinner, and have a better pair of breasts.

 

Sean: Dada.

 

Me: Mama.

 

Sean: Dada.

 

Me: Mama.

 

Sean: Dada.

 

Me: Mama.

 

Sean: Dada.

 

Me: Mama.

 

Sean: Dada.

 

Me: Mama.

 

Sean: Mama!

 

Me: (hugging him tight) Good job!  Now let’s get you a cookie.

 

 

Vote for my post on Mom Blog Network

Follow

Get every new post delivered to your Inbox.

Join 69 other followers