Cravings and Ravings

I confessed to my doctor today that I’d been feeling nervous and on edge.  During my first pregnancy, I was the picture of calm.  Or at least, my flailing was more of the “how the hell am I going to manage all of this and a baby” variety.

The maiden voyage to Storkville was all about me.  Trip number two?  I’m obsessed with the Stranger Within.

My doctor gently reminded me that it wasn’t too late for genetic testing - but if I skipped the blood work this time, we’d have missed our window.

I took a deep breath and confirmed that no, we still weren’t interested.

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I occasionally suffer from delusions.  Some recurring ones:  that there’s a marathon runner within.  That I’ll master the preparation of an elaborate dessert.  That I’m really good at DIY projects.

Over the years, I’ve come to accept that these are lies that I tell myself.  But a grey area remains - things that I wish to master, that seem slightly contrary to my restless, aggressive, impatient nature.  Things that seem like they’d help me grow.  Maybe even, wonder of wonders, relax.

So yeah, I signed up for prenatal yoga and donned my stretchy pants this afternoon for the first time in months.

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So yeah, I fret about the planet.  But kids still need gear, and I must say that I’ve derived much pleasure from seeking out products that are well-crafted, thoughtful and appealing to me and my child.

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Kids really say that.

My 3 y.o. just said it again.  This time, we were talking about pulling up his pants post-potty.  If I’m willing to overlook the occasional twisted waistband on his Thomas the Tank Engine underpants, he’s absolutely right.  

No need for you, Mommy.

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Some women insist that maternity clothing is a waste of time.  I’m puzzled by this perspective.  While yes, some non-knocked up wear fits all through your pregnancy, there comes a time when something’s gotta give.

And for me, it’s the waistband.

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A bajillion years ago, a friend told me that she thought becoming a SAHM would help reduce their carbon footprint.  ”Huh?” I thought.  I’m all for a petite carbon footprint, but how, precisely, did one follow the other?

After 14 months as a SAHM, I must admit that I get it.  Not only do I get it, but I’ve done it.  Going green doesn’t require a ton of cash, but it does take some thought, and a modest amount of effort.  It’s tough to do those things when you’re in a constant rush to keep up with the day-to-day.

So, in honor of Earth Day, here’s a list of the things we’ve done to tread more lightly on the planet since settling in our new home last July.

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Despite being short on storage space, I’ve hung on to all of my firstborn’s baby gear on two theories:  a) that we’ll use it again; b) that if I give it away prematurely, I’ll immediately fall pregnant at the worst possible moment.

The mojo worked.  Kyd is three, and baby #2 is on the way.  Just in time for me to freak about Bisphenol A in all those Avent bottles and sippy cups that I’ve saved, stored and moved - twice - since my son was a babe in arms.

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Earlier this week, I found myself in my local shopping plaza.  It’s a gritty urban affair, no Starbucks or tot-play area.  But hey, a girl’s gotta buy toilet paper and OJ.

As I made my way to the Target, I remembered that there was a Motherhood Maternity tucked in between the Dippin’ Depot and Payless.  At 14 weeks, I don’t need maternity clothing - but my regular kit is starting to strain.  And I couldn’t resist strapping on that faux-belly pillow and imagining what I’ll look like come July.  A sneak preview, of sorts.  Sounds like a lark, right?

Yeah.  Right.

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On days like today, I fear returning to work.

My husband came home late last night and went in early this morning.  Our 3 y.o. woke up miserable at having missed Daddy.  When a toddler gets mad, you can see it coming - the wind-up and then the pitch.  He screamed for nearly 30 minutes straight, as I dressed him, hustled him through teeth-brushing and hair combing and shoe putting-on.  He howled as we walked to school.

I’ll admit it - I wanted to hit him.  If I though it would make it any better, I might’ve done.

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Women ask about losing the baby weight.  It’s nearly an obsession.  How long did it take?  Did breastfeeding help?  Have you taken a strollercize class?  Will I ever look the same again?

For me, losing the baby weight wasn’t impossible.  Looking at old snapshots, there I am holding a six-week old baby, in my size 12 jeans.  Maybe I was a bit flabbier, but I didn’t feel all that much heavier.

Then I went back to work full-time.  And in the whirl and swirl of 50-hour and more weeks, midnight feedings and life, the pounds piled on.  No sleep, no time to eat sensibly - heck, sometimes no time to eat - certainly no time for the gym.  

In two years, I gained back everything I’d lost.

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