Jessica versus Jessica’s hair – the saga continues

Posted on March 21, 2016 by Good Times with Jess

24 weeks pregnant. I take back EVERY pregnancy complaint I have ever made. Every single one. At least for now. I am having an identity crisis.

For the first 10 years of my life I had straight hair:

Tell me you love these shorts.

Then this happened:

Now I have had curly hair for 24 years. TWENTY-FOUR YEARS of perfecting my curly hair. The first five years I spent in a whirlwind of what-the-heck-is-happening-to-my-body: hips, period, boobs, hairy legs, hairy armpits AND CURLY hair.

The next five years I spent realizing that brushing dry curly hair may not be the best way to go and that layers are my friend. I was making progress but it was still Jessica versus Jessica’s hair.

Ten years ago I began to feel like curly hair might be my jam. Then 6 years ago I started getting special curly-hair haircuts and using all curly-hair hair products. I’m owning it. Curly hair is me and it fits my personality: energetic, bouncy and a little all over the place.

Now I’m pregnant. I may be crazy, but my hair appears to be growing in straight. GAH! Who am I?!

An entire head of straight hair would be one thing, but it seems like the front edges didn’t get the hormonal memo. The front is sticking to it’s curly agenda, while the rest of my head gives up and straightens out.

I’m concerned about how this will end, but maybe my hair will be so coated in baby spit-up, drool and poop that I won’t notice.

Fried chicken and chocolate balanced by 3 carrots I ate yesterday

Posted on March 16, 2016 by Good Times with Jess

23 weeks pregnant. The pregnancy books say to stay active and eat well. I’m walking 3 to 5 miles a day and I’m friends with carrots again. I’m also able to read about food.

For the past four months I’ve stayed away from photos of food on Facebook, the prepared foods section of the grocery store and all nutrition chapters in pregnancy books. The other day when it was just my squatty potty and me, a pregnancy food chapter sucked me in. It compared how the same food can be good for you or not depending on how it’s prepared.

I didn’t need a book to tell me this. Plain bread is ok. Bread with a lot of butter or mayonnaise is better.

The book recommends a boneless, skinless chicken breast as opposed to fried chicken. I describe to Captain what I read and sigh,

“Now all I want is some fried chicken.”

“I don’t think that was the purpose of the book.”

It’s not my fault they’re throwing around tasty words like ‘fried’ and ‘chocolate’ in front of a pregnant woman.

I download a prenatal yoga video. For 20 minutes I laze on the couch and stuff M&Ms in my face while a woman in downward dog tells me to breath. This may not be the most effective use of this video.

Portrait of a pretty pregnant woman eating vegetable salad, looking upwards.

I could do this, minus the tomatoes.

But this is what I’m talking about.

Fetus’ first street harassment

Posted on March 10, 2016 by Good Times with Jess

Nothing like a 70 degree day in March to bring all the creepy, obnoxious men out of hibernation.

I’ve been walking around Boston all Winter without being approached by anybody besides the people in vests for various good causes. Yesterday broke that streak.

I head to the park.

“Hey pretty lady, can I walk with you?”

Ignore. A mile later I settle onto a bench and pull out my book. A guy shouts at me,

“Nice hair.”

Ignore.

“YOU’RE WELCOME.”

NO. I do not need to thank you for your verbal harassment.

What part of my pregnant belly makes you think approaching me is a good idea? I have enough hormones coursing through my body right now to tear your head off with my bare hands.

An hour later a gaggle of guys saunters up.

“Hey girl, I like your Sew-KOE-Nees.”

What the heck is he talking about? I glance at my sneakers. Ah Saucony. Wrong pronunciation buddy. You should try not talking out loud.

Still pregnant – 22 weeks

Posted on March 7, 2016 by Good Times with Jess

22 weeks pregnant. The weeks keep adding up. Before this, I had no idea pregnancy was counted in weeks. I had no idea about a lot of things. Supposedly the mole that’s growing on my tummy is normal. As long as it doesn’t start moving around like in Robin Hood: Men in Tights.

Counting weeks makes sense considering one week the Blurry Blob didn’t have ears and now she does. Or we hope so. This may be the one body part the ultrasound technician didn’t mention.

I should be focused on week 22, but my brain keeps jumping all over the place. I sent an urgent email to a friend inquiring about potty training. The good news is that none of my friends are still in diapers and the Blurry Blob doesn’t even need diapers yet.

Pregnancy books have sucked me in. The problem is that plenty of these books are for pregnancy and BEYOND. So one minute I’m reading about second trimester and next thing I know I’m reading about how to discipline your five-year-old. I may have skipped to the back of the book. I can’t handle the suspense.

Decorating a one bedroom condo for a little person

Posted on March 3, 2016 by Good Times with Jess

21 weeks pregnant. I’m working on the baby registry. It’s cuter than the wedding registry, but size wise items are a lot bigger. Cupcake trays and serving platters stack neatly in my cupboard. A stroller, a carseat, a bassinet, a crib, a high chair, a swing, and a dresser do not appear to be stackable or fit in my cupboard. At least the baby will stack on top of all of these things.

If my closet is in the kitchen, the stroller may need to live in the second bathroom. Our skis are already very happy in there. The high chair may live at my mom’s house until the baby decides that I’m not the sole meal machine. And the swing may not exist at all, don’t tell Blurry Blob.

I’m excited to keep things to a minimum and very grateful for our family who’s storing items for us. I have slowly fallen in love with our condo and most of my plants have too. The others died.

There’s no nursery, so I’ve sprinkled baby items and stuffed animals everywhere. There’s a lamb and a turtle in the living room, two turtles, a moose, a bear and a dog in the bedroom and three bunnies in the bathroom. You never know when you’re going to need a bunny in the bathroom.

Last but not least, we want a carpet for the living room. I haven’t felt the need for one until now. Captain and I don’t spend the majority of our time rolling around on the floor, but I hear lying, sitting, crawling and drooling on the floor may be some of Blurry Blob’s favorite pastimes.

We could go neutral, but why would I do that? If my closet is in the kitchen, the living room might as well have an outspoken rug. So this is about to be our condo’s 5’x 8’conversation piece:

Don’t worry, all guests will be welcome to roll around and drive cars on it too.

And Baby will store well.

Gender reveal!

Posted on February 25, 2016 by Good Times with Jess

20 weeks pregnant. I’m halfway! I have a feeling the second half is going to be better than the first. I don’t have anything to base this on aside from the fact that I don’t feel nauseous anymore and I can talk about tomatoes.

I have ZERO desire to eat tomatoes, but I can cut one up and put it on a sandwich for Captain without feeling like I’m going to die.

We went for our 20 week ultrasound. Our ultrasound technician had a running monologue the entire time we were in the exam room. We walk in and she asks,

“Do you want to know everything?”

“We want to know as much as you can tell us.”

The technician picks up the ultrasound wand,

“Oh this is a little sticky, I’m going to clean it again. How do you feel about Lysol? It’s lemon fresh.”

There’s a big ol’ squirt of warm gel on my belly and we’re off.

Side note, I just googled “ultrasound gel” to see if there’s a better term and found a message board inquiry:

“Can ultrasound gel be used as a sexual lubricant?”

“Yes, but it’s expensive. Is this an emergency?”

There was no reply, so we’ll never know.

Back to my ultrasound. Our technician snaps photos of the Blurry Blob’s brain, heart, stomach, bladder, kidneys, arms, legs, fingers, toes, lips, nose. She says,

“Baby, we still need to get your spine. I need you to cooperate.”

Is the Blurry Blob cooperating? The technician tries to get her shot, she says,

“Your baby just head butted me. That’s a good sign.”

“A good sign?” I don’t want head butts to be our standard form of communication.

“Yes, your baby is very responsive. Can you send a telepathic message to your baby to hold still so I can get this shot?”

So now the Blurry Blob has two forms of communication: head butts and telepathy. It also feels like somersaults might mean something. The technician asks,

“Have you been singing to the baby?”

Captain pipes up,

“She’s been singing and playing the piano.” Despite the fact that I’m tone deaf and my singing could be considered a form of torture. The technician declares,

“The baby will be a musician.”

That or the Blurry Blob will come out and ask me to please never sing again.

The technician examines all the measurements,

“You’ve got a big healthy baby, measuring 4 ounces above average. Could be because both of you are big.”

She squirts more goop on my belly and asks,

“So you want to know the gender?”

“Yes!”

“You want me to just say it?”

“Just say it.”

“It’s a girl!”

After a moment of excitement, Captain and I turn back to the screen. I say,

“How do you know? I can’t tell.”

The technician moves her pointer around the screen,

“There’s the coin slot.”

Ah yes. She continues,

“That’s what you’ll be wiping. Do you see it? She’s got her legs spread wide open.”

Best worst baby shower cake EVER.

Gassing up the Mom Mobile

Posted on February 19, 2016 by Good Times with Jess

Things are getting real. We’ve ordered a mom mobile.

The weekend I met Captain, he offered to give me and my skis a ride home. He told me,

“I’m not sure if it’ll all fit, but we can try.”

He has a very sexy, very tiny car made for two people. It’ll struggle to fit a diaper bag, never mind a third person.

We review our car options. Captain likes race cars, trucks and tractors. I don’t have as much car knowledge as Captain, but I’ve been using Zipcar for 6 years now, so I’ve gotten around.

I’ve driven Smart cars, MINI Coopers, Mazdas, Hondas, BMWs, sedans, minivans, SUVs and the Toyota Prius. Everyone raves about the Prius. No thank you. Any car that beeps at me while I’m trying to back up is a NO. I’m already craning my neck around trying not to run over people, a curb and other inanimate objects. I don’t need the car beeping at me too. I’m backing up. I KNOW.

I turn to Consumer Reports. Looks like the Toyota Highlander might be ideal. New or used it’s highly ranked. We head to a Toyota dealership to check out a few different cars. Captain points out a minivan and asks,

“What do you think?”

“I think I might die.”

I want a mom mobile, but I don’t want it to look like it might float away in a snow storm.

The Toyota Highlander is not Captain’s first choice. He would prefer a truck or a tractor. We talk through what a couple carseats, two dogs, a stroller and groceries would look like in those vehicles.

We’re down to the Highlander, a small SUV versus a bigger SUV. The Highlander has an easily accessible third row. The car will hold 2 large people and 5 small people. I’m not saying we want 5 kids, but if either of our kids ends up with any friends. We’re all set.

We order the Highlander. In 4-6 weeks the two-seater sports car will retire temporarily to my mom’s garage. Thanks mom! It plans to reemerge in a year or so for its racing career. Either that or we invest in racing tires for the Highlander.

My temporary boob job

Posted on February 15, 2016 by Good Times with Jess

For 30 years I’ve had very good control of my body. The few years I didn’t, I don’t remember. Now the 7 inch person inside of me is wreaking havoc.

It’s not all bad. Amazing things are happening to my once fun-size chest. After only 8 weeks in, I glance down. Am I crazy? I model my new set for Captain. He declares,

“At least 25% bigger.”

That’s what I thought.

At this point they’re at least 100% bigger. I have only recently filled out my pre-pregnancy bras, which means I’ve been fooling myself for years.

Yesterday I get dressed to go out for Valentine’s Day. Not much I can do about my large gut that does not scream baby bump. I put on a red pre-pregnancy bra and a low cut top. I look in the mirror. Wow. Cleavage. I’m not sure if my breasts have ever touched each other before.

It’s a miracle. Is it too much? I model my outfit for Captain. He starts giggling like a 13-year-old boy. We’re good to go.

My pregnancy bump photo – it’s not a food baby

Posted on February 10, 2016 by Good Times with Jess

18 weeks pregnant. I’m eating more foods. I’ve introduced a third type of cereal. I’m pooping on the regularish. And I can feel the person inside me move!

There’s proof that this might be real. I’d love to know what’s going through the Blurry Blob’s brain. Is it enjoying itself? Does it wish I’d stop trying sleep on my stomach? Every night I’m still confirming that being on my stomach is an uncomfortable position.

Only two more weeks until our next ultrasound and the Blurry Blob may no longer be an it. It’ll save me time, because I’ve been virtual window shopping for both scenarios.

I’m not obviously pregnant. There’s been an overall thickening, in case I wanted a bigger butt. I do want a bump. I walk around rubbing my belly and to everyone else I might as well have a bad case of indigestion.

I’m off to my prenatal yoga class. Blurry Blob is coming too.

Jeans barely pull up. I was in the bedroom trying to put them on and Captain yells in from the other room, “Are you ok?!” “Yeah, why?” “You’re making painful groaning sounds.”

Prenatal yoga – once a week seems good enough

Posted on February 5, 2016 by Good Times with Jess

Prenatal yoga. Put prenatal in front of anything and it costs at least $5 more than usual.

It’s like wedding stuff. Rental folding chair: not expensive. Wedding rental folding chair: very expensive and if you believe the rental company, choosing the least very expensive chair is a decision you will regret the rest of your life.

My marriage is off to a strong start, despite not upgrading our chair choice.

I’ve never taken a yoga class before. I’ve done many a yoga pose. Movement theater arts classes get weird. Now I have a lot of free time and I’m trying not to spend most of it on my butt.

I’ve taken a sampling of prenatal yoga classes. I found one I like and several that I hope to never stumble into again.

The classes are designed to do no harm to the baby. I appreciate that, but I’m not paying $20 to lie on a mat and focus on my breathing. That’s what I do every night when I’m trying to go to sleep.

One teacher says,

“Thank your baby for coming to class with you today.”

I will not. If I left it up to the Blurry Blob, we’d be sitting on the toilet eating a snack.

The things I used to be able to do on my stomach

Posted on February 2, 2016 by Good Times with Jess

Millions of people have survived pregnancy and labor. Some haven’t, but I’m going to focus on the ones who have.

Last night was the first night my full bladder wasn’t the only sleeping issue. I love to sleep on my stomach. Many weeks ago, when I still had a discernible waist, I asked the doctor,

“When will I need to stop sleeping on my stomach?”

“Oh you’ll know.”

That didn’t sound very clinical. The What to Expect When You’re Expecting book offered a suggestion:

“Start sleeping on your side now, so you get used to it.”

I don’t like sleeping on my side. It seems like I’ll have to get used to it at some point so it might as well be not right now.

I continue to sleep on my stomach and forget that I ever wondered about this. Until last night.

I roll off Captain and onto my stomach. Ow. I wiggle around. Ow ow ow. My fetus, the five inch tall person between me, the mattress and a good night’s sleep is saying,

“Hey lady! You’re squishing me.”

“Are you sure?” I wiggle around on my stomach some more.

“I’m sure! That book told you to start sleeping on your side.”

I try one side. I try the other side. I try my stomach again just to confirm. All my tossing and mental arguing with Blurry Blob has woken Captain. He murmurs,

“Are you having trouble sleeping?”

“Yeah, I don’t think I can sleep on my stomach anymore.”

He reaches out to snuggle me and starts snoring again.

I need to convince Captain to let me cut a hole in our mattress.

College/newborn baby, it’s party time!

Posted on January 25, 2016 by Good Times with Jess

My baby growing continues. 16 weeks. Yes, I’m counting the days.

Before I got knocked up, I thought pregnancy was counted in months. Now all I hear are weeks. 40 weeks. That’s a lot of weeks. I ask Captain,

“How are you feeling?”

“I feel like I’m getting ready to go to college.”

“College? Can I blog that?”

“Yeah. I know things are going to be really different, but I’m not sure exactly what it’s going to be like.”

“Except this is a little bit longer than a 4 year commitment.”

“Yeah.”

“And if you don’t like college you can always just quit, but we’re gonna be stuck with this kid forever.”

“Yeah.” Captain is looking worse. I tell him,

“I was really excited to leave home for college.” I was excited for freedom. Now I’m excited for a lifetime of responsibility. Or my best attempt at it.

Senior year of high school wearing UMass hat, shirt, shorts, sweatshirt and socks. It’s getting exciting.

The excitement has worn off.

I graduated. Success.

Squatty potty did not pay me to write this, but any day now

Posted on January 23, 2016 by Good Times with Jess

Before I got knocked up, I’d heard of one pregnancy symptom: morning sickness. For thirty years I assumed morning sickness means you feel a little sick in the morning and then life goes on. Nope. I felt like I was going to die. I thought I might be sick for the rest of my life.

It turned out I was only sick for a few months, BUT it also turns out that there are a lot of random symptoms that seem totally unrelated to pregnancy, but persist nonetheless. What their biological advantage is, is a mystery.

My symptoms in no particular order:

Nausea
Exhaustion
A lot of mucus and boogers. So many boogers. I haven’t had this many boogers since I spent 12 hours on a dirt road in Africa with the windows open.
Bleeding gums. WHY?
Serious food aversions. I have gone from eating everything, EVERYTHING, to 3 or 4 different foods, if Cheerios and Honey Nut Cheerios count as two different foods.
And sometimes it’s hard to poop. Pooping used to be easy. I looked forward to my 20 minutes in the evening with the toilet and Consumer Reports magazine.

The real Jessica is gone and this new Jessica I’m dealing with is a tired, sick, boogery, picky eater, poop filled Jessica. I hear that five months from now I’ll forget that that Jessica ever existed and will be agreeable to getting knocked up again.

Last weekend, 15 weeks pregnant, I drag myself to the breakfast table. Captain is concerned. He asks,

“What’s wrong?”

“I think I’m pregnant.”

“Anything I can do?”

Just listen to me talk about my boogers again.

I’ve signed up for every pregnant mommy group nearby. What’s better than talking to Captain about my boogers and poop? Talking to lots of women about their boogers and poop.

One woman asks me,

“Have you tried the squatty potty?”

“The WHAT?”

“Squatty potty. It’s great. It helps open up your colon.”

My colon needs all the help it can get. I order the squatty potty.

All packages that arrive at our condo building are signed for by the concierge. He then notifies residents if you have a package. I receive a notification and go to claim my package:

The return address on the mailing label is glaring at me. Really? Everyone needs to know that I ordered a toilet stool? Captain tries to reassure me,

“It could easily be for a small child.”

That we’re 3 years away from having.

But it works and I ordered another one despite the address label. This way I can pick my toilet based on the reading material I’ve left by each one as opposed to which one has the stool.

Good Times with Jess is knocked up

Posted on January 19, 2016 by Good Times with Jess

I have bad news for you. Not only are you reading a mommy blog, but you’ve been reading a mommy blog for the last 3 months. They tell me a baby will come out of me July 10th.

My birthday is in July, so I told the fetus it better not steal my birthday. Don’t worry, it can hear already.

I asked my friend if my blog should change it’s name. She said,

“No, the mommy part is just a continuation of the good times, or end of.”

We’ve had a couple ultrasounds. It’s like a bad, black and white, silent movie. Captain and I stare at random objects on the screen, one of which the doctor tells us is a fetus. Captain declares,

“It looks like a blurry blob.”

“Yeah.”

Captain adds,

“It looks like me.”

Blurry Blob the Fetus looks like Captain. So be it. At some point we’ll have to think of another name, but Blurry Blob is good for now.

Will Blurry Blob need extensive therapy because I’m blogging about it? Maybe. I’ll let you know.

So if all goes well, Good Times with Jess has replaced babbling, thirsty bar regulars with one babbling, thirsty, tiny person. The mommy blog begins. You’re welcome.