Green-eyed Monster Monday

Welcome to my weekly installment of "Green-eyed Monster Mondays: Who I'm Jealous of Today & Why?" Today's winner is any woman who posts on any mother-to-be site that bemoans how much weight she’s lost in the first trimester. I'm sure this is a little scary if you're starting out as a size zero- you can't afford to go into negative numbers. I will do my best to have sympathy for you- as the only time in my life I was tall and skinny was when I was born (I weighed in at 5lbs 15oz and 19 inches long- not to brag) As a feminist who loves and supports all of my sisters gay, straight, bi, single, married, widowed you name it- I just want to say “Bitch(es) please!”. This has nothing to do with the fact that I've struggled with my weight my entire life, it has to do with the fact that while I too had an extreme case of morning sickness. I didn't lose an ounce. As a matter of fact I gained weight. I'll be generous with my guessing, but I'd say about 10 -12 lbs. Not so much that I've had to buy new clothes including maternity wear, but enough that I now fit comfortably again in my "fat clothes" i.e. big 10's and a few size 12's- the clothes that I wore before my 90 day fast of no sugar, no wheat, no dairy, no gluten, no alcohol. When I did that I lost about 30lbs and about 22 inches collectively from my body. I was so proud and now thanks to non-stop nausea I have gained a good amount of that back. 

Because unlike my pregnant "frenemies" who have their faces in the toilet a few times a day I can only consume crackers, ginger ale, bread and all-things carb to help the waves of nausea subside. Again, I stress that I'm not saying their morning sickness wasn't awful but at least you got something out of it- a) maybe some relief for a little bit after you called out to the porcelain gods and b) you could get into your skinny jeans. I think what is bugging me most is that I'm having flashbacks to those women in college and when I worked an office day job who were the size of a barbie doll (in real life) and they would talk smack, saying things like, "I just don't know what's wrong with me?! I eat and eat- whatever I want and I just can't seem to keep weight on." Well, unless you have a 26 foot tape worm in your intestine you have NO sympathy from me. NONE! Same goes for if you have a 2.5 ounce 4 inch fetus.

Creepiest Breastfeeding Ad EVER???!!!

Notice anything odd? Like a full set of teeth?

Those of you who know me know that I am the biggest fan of doing things naturally. I eat organically as often as possible. I use all natural cleaning products- I mix vinegar and water to clean my kitchen and bathroom. I’ve even cut out using any kind of beauty products with parabens in them. So you know this automatically makes me a HUGE proponent for breastfeeding. It’s definitely something I plan on doing as easy or difficult as it may come in the first few days. So in no way am I ragging on anyone who does breastfeed or is trying to promote it. That being said the brilliant people in Louisville, KY who came up with this entertaining albeit CREEPY public service announcement to promote breastfeeding in the African-American community have a major FAIL on their hands. It’s not ‘cause the kid isn’t cute- she is- even though she is talking. (Which happens to be a HUGE creep factor for me. Babies talking, dancing, doing tricks etc…freak me the f*ck out almost as badly as clowns.

 So you know watching Ally McBeal back in the day took real effort on my part- but that’s an entirely different blog entry.) I’ve captured a still photo from the video, but you MUST click on this link: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hyvom56bzuw&feature=player_embedded to truly appreciate the creep factor. A baby with Hollywood veneers talking about getting her breast milk on. My nips ache just thinking about it.

Food Porn (Yes, as in Food Pornography)

Some people watch the Food Network to get their culinary rocks off. I don't even have to do that anymore. All I have to do is think about the list of foods I would literally pay to watch someone else eat and I get a little um, excited. That said, I'm not normally a voyeuristic weirdo. But this baby is causing some things to change in me. Some stuff I predicted while other things are a complete surprise.
For instance I've always been afraid that when I got pregnant I would crave beer- it was so absurd I used to joke about it. Well, thanks to the law of attraction my fears have come to fruition. NEVER in my life have I been a beer drinker- not even in college. Oh, and before anyone gets their panties in a wad I am still NOT a beer drinker- although I freely admit I don't think there is anything wrong with having a really nice glass of wine while prego once every blue moon on a Tuesday when the Yankees win the World Series. But lately, my darling Aussie husband, CJ, has been coming home with these incredible microbrews and IPA's some of which all I have to do is smell & I salivate. But it's not just beer I would love to have but am restricted from consuming- it's a variety of edibles that I can't stop craving.

 

Here is a snapshot from my Most Wanted Food List.

Brie cheese (and apparently ALL soft cheeses are out of the game for me for several more months) Waaahh!

Any kind of batter - from pancake to brownie mix. Because of the high risk of salmonella from raw eggs that's a no can do.

Any kind of dough- and let's be honest the ONLY dough even worth mentioning is cookie dough. Which means my all-time favorite ice cream is off the market- for the same reason as batter. Those blasted uncooked eggs. Which leads me to mourning one of my favorite breakfast foods...
 

Eggs- Sunnyside up or Benedict. No more sunshine during brunch for me!

Hamburgers or Steaks cooked medium rare or even medium. I'm not a huge red meat eater these days, but BAM- that's gone- out the window!

In all honestly, as much as I lament not being able to consume these delectable dishes I'd rather be safe than sorry while keeping me & "the Bean" healthy. That being said, if I see you out somewhere enjoying a delectable Sunday brunch that includes ANY of the above mentioned items don't look shocked or act surprised when I smack it out of your hands. But also remember, it's not me who did that to you, its the hormones!

P.S. If you like this and other of my blog entries please vote for me as I've been nominated for a Top 25 Mom Blog of SoCal. You can vote everyday for the next 10 days here: http://www.circleofmoms.com/top25/Top-25-SoCal-Moms-2012?trk=t25_Top-25-SoCal-Moms-2012

Thanks for the love and support! 
 

My Mom...and The Baby "Bean"

From the moment CJ and I found out we were pregnant we were excited. In all honestly, he was a little more excited than me. But I kind of think that's normal. I had A LOT to take in- not just that my life would be changing FOREVER, but so would my body over the next better part of a year. Of course we told my parents first. We e-mailed our family overseas and then kept the secret to ourselves as best we could for the first few months. We diligently began reading everything we could about our baby-to-come and it's development. Excuse me, I mean his or her development. My mother HATES when we call the baby "it". But again, honest moment here- that's what it (he/she) was to me the first several weeks. I mean you don't really look any different and aside from being tired and nauseous you don't feel that different. Nice or not, I compare the first few months of pregnancy to having a really bad cold or the flu- just sans the sniffles. But I digress, so back to my mother. 
My Mom is one of the coolest women you could ever hope to meet, but she does carry herself in a certain manner. I like to liken her to Claire Huxtuble  which is very fitting as growing up my life was JUST like the Cosby Show. (Sometimes I wondered if they had hidden cameras in our home and then they just took what they saw to make episodes.) Like Claire, my mother is the consummate lady, extremely intelligent, always professional, but still knows how to laugh and have fun. However, she does have her "snob moments". Meaning if something or someone isn't too her liking she'll find a way to convey that so that everyone regardless of their IQ gets the message.
Sometimes it's a verbal condemnation other times it can just be a look. She was ALWAYS good with looks- that's why I didn't get spanked in public as a child because she didn't have to. Her look said/did it all. And I knew if I kept up whatever I was doing that was inappropriate or embarrassing to her I'd be in more trouble than I bargained for when I got home. 
As, my husband and I were following the growth of our little one on all these mommy-to-be sites from What to Expect When You're Expecting to The Bump to Babble.com we found that they give you weekly fetal updates about your baby's development. When it starts to grow ears, or fingernails or when the liver and spleen start to develop- it's really fascinating even if you're not having a kid. But they also do something really cute on these sites to better help you comprehend how big, or rather little, your baby is- they compare your baby to food. 

So in your first couple of weeks it's the size of a pea, then a blueberry, then a bean, then a plum, then a peach...then a lemon...an orange- you're following me. Well, the name that stuck for us was Bean. Don't ask me why, but it did. So my husband to this day will rub my belly which really isn't even showing yet ('cause it's my first pregnancy) and he calls the baby "The Bean". He's even created terminology around it. For example when I'm on stage and I mixed a joke up or forget the punch line- he's like, "I saw you get "beaned" up there." Or when I had my awful bouts of nausea, he'd rub my back and say sympathetically, "I'm sorry you're getting 'beaned' so badly." It's become terminology around our house and kind of a cute nickname for a child we clearly can't decide on name for yet (see The Infamous Name Game Part I or The Infamous Name Game Part Deux). 

Well, during a phone conversation while I was relaying to my mom how excited CJ was about becoming a father I happened to mention that our pet name for the baby was "The Bean". You would have thought I called the kid Alouicious! She didn't even find it even mildly amusing. In fact, she was rather indignant when she replied back, "That IS NOT a bean you're carrying- that is MY ANGEL!!!" I realize I could argue and have a never-ending mother/daughter fight about this. But I will concede. I suppose for someone who's in her mid-sixties who's friends are ALL grandmas by now, some several times over, this is HER ANGEL. So CJ and I will just call it "The Bean" in the privacy of our own home.

The Infamous Name Game: Part Deux

This whole picking out a name for our baby is steadily becoming more complicated for me and my husband. I mean, it's not like we haven't thought or fantasized about what we would name our kids when we were younger. Hell, when I was bored in class that was one of my favorite past times- writing out first and middle names that would sound great together. But that was 7th grade me and I didn't have a husband to consult at the time. Our goal is to find a name that's unique and different but not "made up" or too weird. We'd love a name that's all that and cool AND a name that doesn't remind us of someone from our past that we wished was never born. (Something harder to find the older we get 'cause we've met SO many bloody people by now.) 
I’m keeping my options open for girls names as well, but I’ve pretty much decided yes, this early on in my pregnancy, when my child is barely the size of a lemon, that it’s a boy. So we, CJ and I, need to come up with boy names that we both like. That right there is problemo numero uno. For the life of us we cannot come up with names that we both dig. CJ’s all-time favorite name at this point in time is Diego followed by 

Bentley in a close second. Let me address my issue with Diego first. Number one, it will forever be overshadowed by Dora the Explorer’s leech of a cousin who is riding her coat tails to fame and fortune. My darling husband recognizes this and it irks him to no end, but he actually has a decent reason for liking the name. Back in the day when he would ruminate over having a child of his own and what he would name it. He thought that many people name their kids after their favorite places.  Well, suffice to say one of his favorite places on Earth is San Diego- hence Diego. (FYI- I can’t stand it- the name, not the city.) Let's also not ignore the fact that neither of us are of Mexican or Latino heritage. He's White I'm Black- sure our kid may come out looking Hispanic, but that'll just really confuse people. I prefer something a little more modern like Jax or Jackson. When I tell that to most people they concur. Until I reveal why my husband detests that name. Firstly, he thinks it’s overused. Secondly, my spouse, who’s last name our child will get is Russell.  He believes that no matter how much we stress that our son's name is Jax or Jackson it will inevitably get changed by people who don't give a damn and he will be called Jack. Meaning, yes, we could create our very own real life Jack Russell. (Maybe it’s cruel- but there's part of me that also thinks it’s adorable- sue me). Either way it’s apparently not going to happen under CJ’s watch. Plus, I just found out that it’s one of the top ten most hated names for boys right now. But I don’t feel bad because CJ’s 2^nd runner up for a name is on that list too- Bentley. Who names their kid Bentley?

Yes, I'll Have a Slippery Nipple Please!

Bartender, I’ll take a Slippery Nipple please- as in the awesome shot that's part Bailey's, part Kahlua, part Butterscotch Schnapps- as opposed to the itchy ones I've got now. Trust me, I can't believe it either.

 This being my 1st ever pregnancy my world has been turned on it's side. My body is reacting in crazy ways I didn't know possible to what is "still" an itty-bitty creature of a miracle inside of me. Aside from asthma and bouts with allergies I've been blessed with a pretty good health. (Thank God!) Although when I was younger for years I did have to deal with a terrible case of Eczema. Sometimes it would itch so much and I would scratch so badly that my mother would have to put socks on me when I went to bed so I wouldn't hurt myself. 
Well, right now I feel like I'm reverting back to those days. There are moments when I feel if someone caught me scratching as rabidly as I'd like to they be like, "Aw that poor junkie- but she looks so healthy & well-dressed to be a junkie- that's even more of a shame!" Y'all everything itches- but mostly my legs and get this, my nipples. Um, not cool! Sure, you can publicly bend down and soothe any itch below your waist that's not in your crotch region. Most people will even forgive a quick butt scratch- no biggie. But you can't really go to town and get your "scratch on" when what's itching is your REAL Victoria's Secret and you don't want it revealed. 

When the "girls" are setting you in fits there is NO WAY to quell the situation in public, well, at least not without looking like a perv doing "tune in Tokyo" on yourself. And it's not like it's something you can explain to people who may happen to catch you doing it. I mean what are you supposed to do? Coyly smile and pretend like you're removing bothersome lent from your top? I have no more words and unfortunately no solutions for this issue at hand or dare I say at breast, but, "Thank you Mother Nature. Thank you for this fun little pearl of pregnancy I wasn't expecting."

Green-eyed Monster Mondays

Welcome back to my latest installment of Green-eyed Monster Mondays: Who I'm Jealous of Today & Why. Today the honors go to people with clogged sinuses or those who've completely lost their sense of smell aka sufferers of anosmia. (Don't get me wrong I feel badly for the latter, because I know their food doesn't taste as good but I'm still a little jealous right now.) That's because right now I have the sniffer of a freakin' hound dog. If I were on a K-9 unit I could solve every crime with my schnoz in record time. I would be lead detective of the Bloodhound Gang (from the show 3-2-1- Contact not the band.)  At this exact point in my pregnancy my sense of smell is like some sort of sick super hero power. Some of y'all may be thinking, but Karith that's so fantastic! Um, yeah it would be if the only scents one had to inhale was vanilla and cinnamon. 

Unfortunately, unless you're camped out at the mall 24/7 in front of a Cinnabon that ain't how the real world smells. Case in point, I just had the joy of air travel for better part of the day-it was two-plane day with a connection through Dallas/Ft.Worth airport. Y'all there's nothing like having SUPER smelling and being in a closed in space with recycled air that will make you wish for the first time in your life that you had a sinus infection. I could smell who'd had a cigarette right before coming into the airport. I could detect who's Right Guard had made a left turn. I knew who'd had bourbon and Coke for lunch and who'd eaten barbeque and too many beans the night before. I was in a tornado of disgustingness. I don't even think disgustingness is a real word- but I just made it one 'cause that was hell I was in. 

And, while I've always secretly wanted a super power I was hoping it would come in the form of telepathy or invisibility- something I could use to a) my advantage and b) to help make the world a better place. Knowing from 100 feet away who needs to brush their teeth and scrape their tongue is NOT what I signed up for.

To Find Out the Sex or Not to Find Out- That is the Question!

My husband CJ and I usually agree on most things- although picking names for our future children is another story covered in several other blog entries on here. (Please to refer to any of "The Infamous Name Game" entries.) My DH or darling hubby as they refer to the male spouses on the What to Expect When You're Expecting site most definitely wants to know the sex of our baby. I DO NOT. My argument and I believe it's not only logical, but valid is: Why?! Why must you know now?! What is it going to change? How much you love the baby? I don't think so. AND what about this awesome thing called "the element of surprise"?!
How often in this day & age do we get surprised? And I don't mean walking in on your married boss with his male assistant surprised. I mean really surprised in a GOOD way. I have never in my life had a REALLY fantastic blog worthy surprise. Because of a loose-lipped neighbor I knew about the Chihuahua I was getting for Christmas when I was 7 yrs old. I knew about the sweet sixteen birthday party my mom threw for me at which only one of my real friends was in attendance (although I suppose that counts as a surprise.) I even knew when my husband was going to ask me to marry him (my Spidey senses were tingling and I knew) - I obviously still said yes. But here's the deal, I want- no I NEED a good surprise!!! And dammit I deserve one for once in my life. Okay, okay, okay-  I'll make one concession. I will only find out the sex if it turns out I'm carrying more than one.

I Am So Not a Morning (SICKNESS) Person

I've never been much of a morning person, and as it turns out I'm even less of a morning sickness person. So far a normal ride on the subway has been transformed into a roller coaster ride from the traveling carnival off the highway that you know you shouldn't get on, but you've had a few beers and a couple corndogs so what the hell.

 Being in a car for too long is like a special kind of torture- front seat, back seat it doesn't matter. I have moments that are more intense than others. I call them my "Tower of Terror" times of the day. Where I just have to suck it up, breathe deeply and let the waves of nausea pass. Fortunately, it’s only a happened a few times on stage- my husband CJ happened to be at one of the shows. He saw the waves hit, saw my face turn an interesting shade of green and braced himself to watch his lovely wife puke all over the front row of her audience. Thank goodness for him AND my audience- nothing of the kind happened. In fact it NEVER happens. I haven’t thrown up since I had food poisoning a few years ago when I was on Imus- or it could have been working so closely with that special kind of evil that induced vomiting. I'm not entirely sure now. It's not that I’m asking for a repeat, but there is the thought in the back of my head that maybe just maybe if I "got sick" the nausea would dissipate and I could go on with my day. But instead I just have constant mouthwatering, that crazy metal taste in my mouth like I'm sucking on a lesbian's key chain and never-ending queasiness. And can I just say morning sickness my ass! This is the part that gets me- it MUST have been a man who named it "morning sickness". Well, I ‘d like to have a word with him because I feel dandy in the AM. It’s from about 11 o’clock/12 PM on -until I go to sleep at night that I want to guzzle Pepto Bismol like it's going out of style. But I can’t because it’s not good for Baby.
 So I have become a devotee of ginger ale, ginger candy, ginger snaps, ginger beer, ginger tea, reruns of Gilligan'sIsland where Ginger has the most lines. Its sick. Oh, AND now I carry Saltines with me everywhere I go. On the subway train, I got ‘em, in the dressing room at Macy’s I got ‘em. At the Opera- yep – that would be me trying to make sure I open the loud ass plastic bag when the cymbals are clanging not when the Soprano has a solo.

Our Little One is a Hoot! (Already)

NOT MY ACTUAL SONOGRAM- (some things are private)

So this baby I've got sucking the life out of me- I mean growing inside of me, is already a live wire. We had the very first official ultrasound the other day at which I just completely lost it. Thank God they gave us a photo of the baby because I don't think I could really make him or her out through all of my tears. As soon as I saw my child- this little creature I have been hoping and praying for my entire life - I just couldn't stop sobbing. It was truly a magical experience for a few reasons. For one thing, it made this pregnancy VERY real. ('Cause when you're not showing anything for it except exhaustion and nausea- it still kinda feels like you're fantasizing about it.) The other thing is that it showed me that we are going to have an interesting baby on our hands and I think he/she  (although, I've already decided it is a he) is going to have a killer sense of humor like  Mommy and Daddy. You may be thinking, Karith- how do you know this from just a few minutes of seeing your little baby who's basically the size of a peach right now?! Well, I couldn't see his/her facial expression- obviously. (And by the way don't get me started on that whole 3D/4Dtechnology thing- as that is just creepy- and

 I'll be writing more on that later.) But this kid was hopping around like a Mexican jumping bean. I kept asking the technician if he/she had the hiccups. The technician said, "Nope, Baby's just moving around." (She was obviously a very verbose woman.) We took the movement as a good sign- meaning he's got lots of energy and is healthy. 
But then, while we were watching,  i.e. essentially just staring my child down, we see him/her move his left arm and hand over his face as if to say, "No pictures! No pictures!" - like he was a little celebrity having lunch at Spago and we were the paparazzi waiting for the money shot. Every time I think about it, it cracks me up. I've most definitely got a character on my hands.

I Just Can't Get Enough

Let me preface this by stating that I've never been one to cheat on anything.  From tests to relationships I pretty much run the straight and narrow. But right now at this exact point in my life i.e. my pregnancy I would do just about anything for a Chicken Bowl from Chipotle. 
And I do mean anything. I would contemplate putting the Chipotle name somewhere in my kid's name. I'd consider getting a tatoo with the Chipotle logo on it. And don't let me meet a guy who owns a franchise!!! I do love my husband, CJ- but I'd have to think long and hard about my fidelity when the promise of all you can eat Chipotle Burrito Chicken Bowls are on the table. 
Is it right? Probably not- but who are we to be judge and jury. Let the big Guy in the sky have his say Judgment Day. I'm not worried- I'm sure it will pass. Besides next week I'll probably have a crazy taste for something else and will only want to eat Hush Puppies from Red Lobster. God help me!

The 1st Official Dr. Appt.

Tomorrow is the first official Dr's visit. This will be the first time I get to hear the heart beat of the little sucker (s) who has been making me want to eat then toss my cookies for the past 12 weeks.
I'm super excited, but kinds nervous. I mean hearing a heartbeat is going to make it REAL! Right now, ironically, I think it's more real to my father and CJ than to me or my mom for that matter. Sure I feel a little different but I'm definitely not showing- sure I'm a little bloated and I have already started eating for two- actually I'm really just trying to combat the constant nausea. But I'm not going crazy- my jeans still fit! But other than that nothing's changed. Hah- except that I worry constantly about where I'm going to give birth- New York or Cali? How I'm going to do it- in a hospital with a doctor? At home with a midwife? Will we have everything we need and all the right stuff for this little creature? Then of course there's college! Maybe I'm getting a little ahead of myself- but it's what's going through my mind. Sue me.

Green-eyed Monster Mondays

Welcome to "Green-eyed Monster Mondays- Who I'm Jealous of Today & Why?"
Today the prize goes again to my dog and my  husband because it seems like either of them can crap on cue.

 And just about anywhere. It's disgusting, but I ache to do that too- literally. It bemoans me to even have to bring this topic up as I am a Southern lady and bodily functions- especially removing one's toxic waste is not polite conversation. But as I've since found out being pregnant throws a lot of the everyday niceties and inhibition about taboo subjects right out the window. Pregnancy makes you GET REAL, real fast. Albeit I wasn't always the most "regular" person to begin with, but apparently hormones mixed with iron from the pre-natal vitamins and folic acid hinders as opposed to helps the "flow of traffic" if you will. I have been drinking water like a track star, consuming dried fruit like my name is Mabel and eating so much Raisin Bran they should seriously consider making me a paid spokesperson. So if you would be so kind- please say a little prayer for me and my colon we would both thankyouverymuch!