Monday, September 17, 2012

I WISH My Husband Had A Foot Fetish

The day may come in the not so distant future that I may regret writing a blog entry with that title; but right now at this very moment in time I seriously wish my husband had a foot fetish. I wish he was so obsessed with my feet that all he wanted to do night and day is caress and rub on them. I would be 110% behind that kind of abnormal behavior.
Without question my current stage of pregnancy is to blame for me having such a thought let alone voicing it publicly. But it's so true it's scary. I cannot stand stereotypes and have an equal disdain for cliches, but as my husband CJ, reminded me they exist for a reason as most stereotypes and cliches are based in some form of reality. Well, my current reality is that my dogs are barkin' and I can't reach down comfortably and massage my own feet any more.

After a long OR short day of "whatever"- chores, running errands, doctor appointments, performing evening I'm in pain and by bedtime I can't get comfortable enough to fall asleep without some sort of relief. I'm following everyone's advice (dr.'s, midwives, friends, my mother's) and I keep my bad boys elevated as much as possible but still that only helps but so much. 
Not my actual feet, wrong color duh! But similar swelling as shown by the left foot.
Yes, the edema has about 85% to do with it, the other 15% is that I'm carrying about 40-45 extra pounds around- hello! at 35 weeks I am officially 8 months pregnant. From what I've been hearing that amount of weight gain isn't too shabby- but that doesn't make my ankles or feet feel better about the situation.
Yeah, I know- this image is REALLY adorable or REALLY disturbing.

Which brings me back to my original point- if my husband were obsessed with my "little piggies" I'd be one happy camper and I wouldn't have to saddle up to him as I have every night this week to ask him to rub my feet. "Just 5 minutes Honey," I plead. Although I'm desperately praying he's not timing it like those little pop up Asian stands in the mall and he gets so lost in whatever we're watching on TV and he loses track of time resulting in my gettingto 10 maybe 15 minutes of pure bliss. 
I'm seriously so uncomfortable at this point even if he were into sucking toes and that could somehow bring me relief I'd take it. Is it right? Who am I to judge at this point? 'Cause right now it's about whatever makes Mama feel better.

Postscript- The conversation I had with CJ this morning after I wrote this blog.

Me: I couldn't sleep last night so I wrote a new blog about 4am.

CJ: What about?

Me: Me wishing you had a foot fetish.

CJ: Why would you write about that?

Me: Because if you did then you'd want to rub my feet all day long.

CJ: Yeah, with my "winky"! 

Me: Horrified look on my face.

CJ: Don't you know what a foot fetish is?!

Me: I guess not. I just thought it meant you wanted to touch my feet all the time for your pleasure.

CJ: Yeah, WITH my "winky!"

Me (disappointed) : Well, then that would be that much fun.

CJ: Who knows, maybe I'm wrong I don't know that much about odd fetishes, but I'm pretty sure my "winky" would HAVE to be involved at some point.

Wednesday, September 12, 2012

Just Don't Ask...

There are rules about what you can and cannot ask women. Well, technically you can ask a woman anything. Just keep in mind that what you ask and how you ask it is telling of your upbringing and your level of couthe.

Back in the day the basic no-no's were you never asked a woman's age or her weight. Today those no-no's still exist, but it has expanded to topics like: Is her hair is really hers? (btw we're talking the hair on her head or eyelashes) Does she get botox? Are her boobs real? Is that an Adam's Apple? You guys feel me. You can assume the hell out of someone, but it is TACKY TACKY TACKY to actually vocalize it. 

Now, especially considering my current state of being I think it goes without saying that you NEVER E.V.E.R. ask a woman when she's due- 'cause just like you never know what's really going on in someone else's relationship you NEVER know what's going on under someone's shirt. 

That is because:
a) some women just have bloated days every now and then (Hello! Been there done that!) 

b) some women are skinny, but happen to have "bird bodies" as my great-uncle used to say

c) some women have 1 major "problem area" and it happens to be their belly

d) some women are just overweight and you can't tell period

e) some women have already had a baby and just not bounced back yet- or ever

So the general rule of thumb is: Unless you actually see a head crowning from a vagina you say NOTHING unless something is said to you. Which leads me to believe or at least want to believe that's why so few people have offered me their seat on a crowded subway in NYC. That may be my Texas "Pollyanna" side coming out, but I'd like to think they're not being cold callous New Yorkers, they just don't want to  offend me in case I'm having a "fat day." 'Cause I'll be real, even at 8 months prego I still have days where I look less pregnant and more like I just REALLY like bread. Yes, it's a blessing and curse.

Tuesday, September 11, 2012

Me and My Geriatric Pregnancy...REALLY?!

As a comedian, I'm sensitive, that's part of what makes me so good at my "art". That is what comedians do, we find humor in pain. But as sensitive as I am, I'm not that easily offended especially when something is done or said with humor as the intention. One of my life rules is: All is fair in love and comedy. But I was so deeply offended the first time I heard about this category and I have been ever since that it's taken me almost 8 months to write about it. Geriatric Pregnancy

Now if you're a visual person, as I am, aren't you picturing a little old granny on a Rascal rockin' a baby bump?! Well don't, not just because its slightly disturbing, but it's also a false image. Instead picture me, possibly you or any of your other friends who are pregnant that were born during or before 1978/1977- cause that's who the hell that term refers to. I sh*t you not. 

Sure you can look young and be in great shape, but if you're 35 and older you're not only considered "at risk" 'cause you're f*cking ancient to be pregnant by medical standards, but geriatric! As someone who doesn't look my real age (thank you melanin and good genes) and who's not looking to start taking Centrum Silver anytime soon I find that term truly offensive.

It makes me want to go off on a Bridget Jones-like rant from my bed. "I'm sorry medical society that I put my career first for a bit, or that I wasted my time with idiots who didn't want to get married or have kids, but I thought they did! I'm sooo sorry I lived in New York City for so long- THE biggest playground in the world where hardly anyone wants to settle down because they're constantly looking for the next best thing and people think if you get married before 30 you're insane! But just because it took me a little longer to find the RIGHT guy does not mean that I should be punished by your lame and cruel phraseology- I'm so pissed I don't even know if that's a real word or not!" 

Turns out "phraseology" is a real word- I spell just checked it. My rage is also real. I think I'm most upset about the fact that I'm still young at heart, vibrant, full of life and energy (figuratively & quite literally right now) and the medical world is trying to make me feel like the Crypt Keeper. NOT OKAY! 

I'm sticking with what Aaliyah said, God rest her soul, "Age ain't nothin' but a number!" Guess I should just be glad I'm getting on it before my breast milk curdles. 

Sunday, September 9, 2012

Meconium, Pitocin and Perineums OH MY?!!

Meconium, Pitocin, and perineum should ALL be SAT words as far as I'm concerned. Talk about words I hadn't given thought to much less ever heard before I got knocked up. Yet, these three things have captivated me this past week while I've been diligently studying and reading my Dr. Sears book: "The Birth Book: Everything You Need to Know to Have a Safe and Satisfying Birth."

Since I love you, I'll start off slow 'til we're all on the same page. For those who aren't doctors, have never given birth to a baby or aren't close to anyone who has given birth you probably have no idea what meconium is.

If I were a contestant on Jeopardy and it came up I'd say, "Give me minerals for $500 Alex!" C'mon, doesn't it sound like something rich you'd find buried deep beneath the Earth's surface? Wrong! It's actually something rich you'd find deep inside your baby and it comes out hopefully after the baby is born otherwise this toxic waste could mean trouble and danger for baby if swallowed. If all goes well it comes out into your baby's diaper after a day or so out in the new world. I'll spare you a visual, but if you can imagine a black tar like blobby substance that obliterates a Huggie then you've pictured it correctly. Since I owe you the due diligence of being accurate, here is the exact definition  from the University of Maryland Medical Center: the first bowel movement a baby has is called meconium. Meconium is composed of amniotic fluid, mucus, lanugo (the fine hair that covers the baby's body), bile, and cells that have been shed from the skin and the intestinal tract. Meconium is thick, greenish black, and sticky. 
Hence why you want this coming out AFTER the baby has come out.

Now let's address Pitocin. It sounds like a drug because it is one, but I think it sounds like a "happy" drug kind of like Prozac- but it's not- it's a drug designed to help your body mimic labor. Pitocin is the synthetic version of the hormone Oxytocin which our bodies naturally create. Oxytocin is a "feel good" hormone that helps trigger contractions. Because it gives you a bit of a high when you're dealing with such a, shall we say uncomfortable physical experience, it actually helps you with the pain. When you are in labor naturally, your body responds to the contractions and Oxytocin with the release of endorphins, a morphine like substance that helps prevent and counteract pain. When you receive Pitocin, your body does not know to release the endorphins, despite the fact that you are in pain. Pitocin has it's purpose for sure, but from what I've read so far it is to be given to mothers who are way overdue or who have been laboring so long they're completely exhausted and can't trigger the Oxytocin on their own. When you're given Pitocin and don't really require it it makes the contractions come harder and faster than your body would do it on it's own generally causing so much discomfort you'd gladly trade one of your husband's testicles for an epidural.

And for our final new word of the day, let's take a deep breath. At lunch today one of my gay best friends knew exactly what I was talking about when I said the word perineum, cause he got this big ol' smile across his face. According to Wikipedia the perineum is generally defined as the surface region in both males and females between the pubic symphysis and the coccyx. The perineum is the region of the body inferior to the pelvic diaphragm and between the legs. Or in good old fashion basic hard core English it's often referred to as the "taint." Let me use in in a sentence for you. "It 'taint the front and it 'taint the back". I won't be showing that image here, but if you still don't know what I'm talking about just do a Google image search.

The best part is that I've been instructed by my midwives and all the books I've been reading to either massage my perineum on my own or have my darling husband, CJ on task.  Apparently 10-15 minutes a day should do the trick. This will not only help loosen me up getting me ready for a natural child birth so there's not as much stretching and pain down there, but it'll also make it MUCH easier for Baby Bean to come into the world. Since it's getting a tad more difficult for me to reach guess who has a new chore. But I have a sneaking suspicion he'll enjoy this task way more than mowing the lawn.

Friday, September 7, 2012

Won't Back Down...

Won't Back Down is not the title of my new comedy album- although it would be a great one, but it is the name of the movie I saw last night before it's official release into theatres on September 28th, 2012. I laughed, I cried- yes y'all, IT WAS better than Cats! Not just because it had an all-star female cast in Academy Award Nominated actresses Viola Davis and Maggie Gyllenhaal and Academy Award Winner Holly Hunter, but it was so incredibly inspirational. 

Won't Back Down was inspired by actual events of two mothers, one of whom is a teacher, whose ultimate goal is to get the best education they can for their children- thus providing them with skills for the very best future they can have. Without giving too much away, because I truly believe you should ALL see this film; these women, against all odds, rally themselves and their community to get through the red tape bureaucratic BS that keeps so many things status quo and they make a difference. A HUGE difference. They take an entire school that is failing and that has unacceptable learning conditions and they buck the system until they have the chance to create the environment of education and culture that every child should be entitled to in this great country of ours.

I make plenty jokes on this blog because a) I'm a comedian and b) my theory on life is: If you can laugh at it you can get through it. But as a mommy-to-be (although, technically I am a mom already- Baby Bean's just not on the outside of me yet) I have incredibly serious moments of reflection. Sure, my kid is still in utero, but already I am thinking about what kind of education I want my child to have. Being bi-coastal is okay for now, but I'm checking out schools on both coasts so that when the time comes Baby Bean has the absolute BEST learning environment and opportunities I can get my hands for her. Without a doubt that is one of the top 3 responsibilities my husband, CJ, and I have to our children as loving parents. 

Any parent worth their weight in gold does the very best they can by providing the best nutrition, living conditions and the best education for their children. And really great parents see when there is a problem and they Won't Back Down until something is done to correct it.

I'll warn you now, this movie will move you, possibly to tears, but hopefully to action. I hope it is not just the "message" that will hit home, but also the reality that many times unless you are the squeaky wheel and the advocate for your child- things will stay the same. It may be a fight; it may be hard work, but aren't our children worth it?! (That is not a rhetorical question by the way.) 

It's much like those anti-terrorism signs they have all over NYC- "If you see something, say something." Same goes for if you child is not getting the treatment or education you feel he or she deserves. And if nothing happens after that then you have to get off your rusty dusty and DO SOMETHING! It may seem daunting at first, but it is possible to make a difference. See for yourself in the inspirational movie Won't Back Down in theatres September 28th, 2012.You can watch the trailer here:

Thursday, September 6, 2012

Uh-Oh! The Big 4-0!!!

Sadly, I'm not talking about my age- although I do plan on being a fabulous 40 when that time comes. Y'all what I am talking about is what no woman enjoys ANYONE. The 40 I'm referring to is the amount of weight I've gained so far in my pregnancy. Did it hurt anyone else to read that as much as it hurt to write? 

Now, if I'd started out at 100lbs I don't think I'd feel nearly as self-conscious. But let's be real, I don't think it matters what weight you start out at- 40lbs is 40lbs! You're feelin' it and seeing it. Think about it this way 40lbs is half freakin' Olsen Twin! 
I know it's not the end of the world and I'm not going to get all crazy and start crash dieting. I get it, I'm growing another human being inside of me - this happens. I mean look at Jessica Simpson.

Even Jenny McCarthy said she gained close to 70lbs when she was prego. 
Jenny was cool enough to Tweet this pic to Jessica Simpson when people were giving her sh*t for her weight gain.
I always knew this was a possibility, but it's one of those things where you're like, "Sure it happens, but it's not going to happen to ME!" WRONG!

Me and my cousin Brenda after I headlined at Caroline's on Broadway last week
Well, now that it has I just have to deal. I have to eat really right and not give in to as many cravings as I've had. AND since I was just informed by my doctor that I need to watch my salt intake (due to my swelling from Edema) sodium is off the menu. However, that diagnosis leads me to believe that it IS entirely possible that I'm carrying 35 pounds of water weight! Right???!!!

P.S. Also I am currently in a contest for the 25 Top Mom Blogs of NY- I would SO appreciate your vote ONLY a 7 days left. You don't have to give any personal info just click the button by my name from this link: 

Tuesday, September 4, 2012

At Least I Don't Have Hemorrhoids...

I know, I know that is not the most positive way to start out a blog entry...but after getting less than 2 hours collectively of sleep last night I'm grasping for whatever tidbits of positivity I can to make myself feel better. 'Cause today I'm bloody shot,  as they say. I've always prided myself on being someone who not only sees the glass half full, but appreciates that it is glass and not some crappy plastic cup from a bar that's contaminated with BPA. But it's taking A LOT to keep my chin up right now.

I have already called my mother crying a) because she gets it and she's only 1 hour behind me in Texas b) because my husband CJ is 3 hours behind me in California right now and most likely still asleep. But not to worry I've got enough tears stored up so I can cry to him later when he's fully awake and can appreciate my misery without being groggy. (Um, where's the fun in bitching to someone who's half-asleep?)

I think what annoys me most is that just a few days ago I was bragging to anyone who would listen about great I was doing. I truly was on this incredible feel good streak. I was almost high. I kept thinking, "this pregnancy thing isn't so bad." I was taking on the NYC subway stairs like a champ, running around town performing, having brunch and going to weddings just outside of the City in New Jersey with no pain or swollen extremities. Now just 72 hours later that seems like a distant memory. What really doesn't help is that it's hot, overcast and there's about 95% humidity. Hello?! When the heck did NYC become New Orleans?

What really is scaring the hell out of me right now are my friends- and I use that word loosely- who now are like, "Well you think it sucks now, just wait until the 9th month. You're really going to be miserable." Well, fan-f*cking-tastic! Thanks ladies!

I guess all I can do is do what I do best, try not to wallow in it, remember that this is a temporary state and that the outcome will be SO worth it, and of course I must find the humor in it! That right there is the key to life, right? And it could be worse, I could have hemorrhoids! But I don't so I'm going to count my blessings and be grateful that at least I can still sit and poop like a regular person.

*Just an FYI  DO NOT Google hemorrhoid images. It is NOT a pretty picture! 

Also I am currently in a contest for the 25 Top Mom Blogs of NY- I would SO appreciate your vote ONLY a 9 days left. You don't have to give any personal info just click the button by my name from this link:

Sunday, September 2, 2012

The Pregnancy Card...and When to Pull It

While I am someone who is all about special treatment especially in the form of gifts like freebies, swag bags and bonuses. I've never been someone who gets them by playing on someone else's guilt. Even when it might be appropriate to do so. I've also never in my life played "the race card" or the "woman card". Sure racism and sexism exist, but my theory is that if I don't set myself up to be a victim of that BS then that greatly minimizes the chances of it happening to me. Not saying that hasn't happened to me, and when it has in the infinite wisdom and profoundness of In Living Color's Homey D. Clown, "Homey don't play that!" 

But at 33 weeks pregnant with sore swollen feet the size of Andre the Giant's I don't give a damn about making someone be nice to me or give me something to remedy my discomfort. 

Sometimes, like when I'm in the subway I subtly start to rub my belly. Which because I'm still not  that big has prompted more than one person to ask me if I had a stomach ache. (Please see my blog entry: I'm Not Fat I'm Pregnant!". I then say politely, "No, I'm not sick, I'm 7 months pregnant." They usually react with surprise and then say something along the lines of "Wow- you look really good for being pregnant." While my outside voice smiles and says in the innocent Southern drawl I can pull up instantaneously "Oh, thank you. That's so sweet!" My inner voice, the New Yorker of the past 15 years says, "Yeah, yeah yeah! Now will you please get your fat ass up and give me your seat- in fact I could use the entire row so that I can put my Fred Flintstone looking feet up."

 What I used to think of as cheating, like going to the front of the line, is now more acceptable to me now that I'm in this "more fragile" state. And if I was back in SoCal right now and I had a handicapped sign to hang from my rear view mirror I WOULD! Without ANY guilt if it meant I was closer to my destination. I don't feel this makes me a bad person. Just a person who for the first time in her life is putting her and her baby's needs before those of others. I've never done that before.

So what I'm really saying ladies- is that you're only pregnant for 9 months. And while it is an awesome incredible miraculous time in your like it can also be miserable on several levels so you milk that special treatment for all you can Girlfriend! 'Cause before you know it it's gonna be over! 

Just an FYI I am in a contest for the 25 Top Mom Blogs of NY- I would SO appreciate your vote ONLY a 10 days left. You don't have to give any personal info just click the button by my name from this link: