It's offical. I'm hanging up my skinny jeans. Throw them in the "save for next fall/winter" box, squeeze 'em next to that pair of horrific whitewashed jeans from your freshman year of high school (that you hold onto NOT because they're still in style, but because when you're feeling really skinny you can still zip them up)-whatever you do...say goodbye to the bliss that once was Express Low-rise Dark Denim Skinnies.
I had dinner with a fabulous girlfriend this evening. As I quickly threw together an outfit (a feat that is challenging these days as I ride the wave between regular clothes and maternity clothes) I really had an itch to sport my favorite tall black boots. Now ladies, you know what I mean when I say, wearing boots over jeans is not a walk in the park unless you rock a good pair of skinnies under them. Otherwise, you find yourself winded just trying to shove your bootcut jeans down into a too-tight ankle which can eventually lead to throwing in the towel all together and opting for sweatpants and Ugg boots. SO, I bravely reached into my closet for my favorite jeans. That pair that you can always count on. That pair that you never want to wash because of how soft they feel, and how good they fit after a few wears. In fact, if you're me, you might be embarrassed to admit just how long it's been since your denim bff's have danced through the wash & rinse cycle. But I digress...if you've been reading lately, then you know, I've actually been cheating on my skinnies lately because I recently discovered God's gift to women: maternity jeans. Anyway, it has been a few weeks since I rocked the skinnies and this evening I took a deep breath to see if they might just have a little life left in them. Praise the lord-they zipped. Then I went to dinner. Then I sat at a 90 degree angle in a chair. Then I indulged in a "few" pieces of bread. Then I had one of my favorite pasta dishes-Chicken Diablo. Then I may or may not have asked for a bit more bread (after she took my licked-clean pasta dish away.) And of course, at this point in the meal, I convinced myself it was imperative that I rid the sodium and carbohydrate remains in my mouth away with a delicious dessert. Sigh.
At this point my waistline went to a bad place people. A deep dark cloud of regret hovered above me in the restaraunt as I longed for the blissful comfort that I knew my MJ's (maternity jeans) could be bringing me at that very moment. Instead I was faced with a reality that my midsection was currently revolting against my denim bottoms. It's as if Baby Perks was screaming out to me... "Mom-throw me a bone here-or at least a little growing room. In case you forgot, I'm growing half an inch by the week now, and I'd appreciate a little "give" in the clothes you're sporting these days!" You're so right Baby Perks. NEVER again, will I cause you strife. Mark it down...for the first time, (for what I'm sure will be many in his/her lifetime) I am apologizing to my child. Let's be honest...it's not like Baby Perks went apartment hunting and landed in my uterus because it was offering the first month's rent free. Oh no-it's just what happened when Daddy Perks' seed made the long journey to Mommy Perks' egg and together they travelled to an inviting spot where they could cozy up for approximately nine months and leave the rest up to fate.
All I'm saying is, when it comes to my kid-they deserve nothing but the best. And right now if that means elastic waistbands and 300-ish extra calories a day to appease them, far be-it for me to deny my little one the simple perks in life.
Thursday, February 26, 2009
A little fellow blog doting...
Just sending a few shoutouts to the blogs I stalk read everyday. These are certainly a few of the sites that lit the fire under my booty to get writing/have a great way to keep up with loved ones and stalkers alike...
http://www.dooce.com/
http://www.babywebbsite.com/
http://www.babblingabby.blogspot.com/
***Babbling Abby is having some fabulous giveaways for mommies/future mommies this week...make sure to check them out!***
http://www.coppelclan.com/
I'll probably write more later tonight...but this should hold you over until then.
Happy Thursday Y'all.
http://www.dooce.com/
http://www.babywebbsite.com/
http://www.babblingabby.blogspot.com/
***Babbling Abby is having some fabulous giveaways for mommies/future mommies this week...make sure to check them out!***
http://www.coppelclan.com/
I'll probably write more later tonight...but this should hold you over until then.
Happy Thursday Y'all.
Wednesday, February 25, 2009
Pregnancy Soapbox...
The following verbal exchange took place between myself and another female individual 2 days ago.
"Wow, I still can't believe you're pregnant! You're going to be such a great mom. How far along did you say you were?"
"14 weeks."
Staring down at my mid-section wide-eyed she retorts... "Oh really?!? Wow, I would have guessed that you were WAY further along."
Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhh! Are you kidding me? Not even because I highly value this person's opinion, but more so because she has been through a couple of pregnancies herself and should know better. Seriously-who says that to a "first time mommy-who's just recently popped a belly-and may or may not still be sensitively adjusting to the newest addition to her figure?!?"
That's all. Phew, I feel better.
All you current/future mommies out there...feel free to leave a comment about similar things that have been said to you that have...how do I phrase this nicely..."rubbed you the wrong way." You might also leave your advice on how I can properly and non-violently respond to future verbal exchanges of this nature that may take place over the next 26 weeks. OR, if you're feeling extra witty, feel free to leave your thoughts on a saucy comeback I might use the next time around.
"Wow, I still can't believe you're pregnant! You're going to be such a great mom. How far along did you say you were?"
"14 weeks."
Staring down at my mid-section wide-eyed she retorts... "Oh really?!? Wow, I would have guessed that you were WAY further along."
Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhh! Are you kidding me? Not even because I highly value this person's opinion, but more so because she has been through a couple of pregnancies herself and should know better. Seriously-who says that to a "first time mommy-who's just recently popped a belly-and may or may not still be sensitively adjusting to the newest addition to her figure?!?"
That's all. Phew, I feel better.
All you current/future mommies out there...feel free to leave a comment about similar things that have been said to you that have...how do I phrase this nicely..."rubbed you the wrong way." You might also leave your advice on how I can properly and non-violently respond to future verbal exchanges of this nature that may take place over the next 26 weeks. OR, if you're feeling extra witty, feel free to leave your thoughts on a saucy comeback I might use the next time around.
Monday, February 23, 2009
Belly Perks...
As promised...here's the first offical cyberworld picture of Baby Perks...
[caption id="attachment_68" align="aligncenter" width="500" caption="14 weeks!"]
[/caption]And yes-those are my magical super stetchy maternity jeans. And no-I don't intend to stop wearing high heels just because I'm pregnant. With an ever-expanding belly, I need all the height and fabulous accessories (aka hot pink pumps) I can get!
Oh the joy of not having to suck in for the next 6 months. It's just the little things perks :) Happy Monday y'all.
Sunday, February 22, 2009
It happened.
What you ask? Well...to quote a dear friend...Baby Perks has decided to "bump up the volume."
Yes, that's right folks. It happened. Baby Perks decided he/she was ready to be seen by the world. Somewhere between Thursday night (post fainting drama @ the gym) and by early yesterday morning my little one made an EBD (executive belly decision.) A little redecorating has been done to the inside of my mid-section, and whatever rearranging my little jelly bean did on the inside is making the changes loud and clear on the exterior of his/her home!
So much so, that over the past few days two things have been said to me to indicate I am officially passed the "looking bloated and nowhere near cute pregnant" stage and on to the "awww she must be expecting" stage. Finally.
While I was teaching on Friday one of my student's moms came into my classroom and said: "Well, Mrs. P...someone's starting to pop!"
Friday night I was out to dinner with some dear friends at a really fun spot and our waitress politely leaned into me with a big smile on her face and asked "Are you expecting dear?" HOLY MOLY. Here's the deal, if you've got the gumption to ask a complete stranger whether or not there's a human currently residing in her stomach you better be SURE there's a baby in there.
So yes, it's official. While I've felt pregnant for months now, I most definitely look pregnant now too! All day long yesterday Daddy Perks kept saying..."Honey? Are you pushing your stomach out?" Believe me when I say, I'm as shocked as he is about how how quickly we've gone from the "bunny hill" bump to the full fledged "double black diamond" tummy. (Just to use a little ski lingo for you bunnies out there.) Ok, so maybe I'm not quite to black diamond status yet, but you get the picture!
One day you're feeling a little gassy and bloated, and the next day you wake up feeling as if you must have consumed 17 thanksgiving dinners all at once for your stomach to look the way it does. And that's just how Daddy Perks is feeling...we won't even get into my sentiment right now ;)
So at this point you're annoyed that I haven't even so MUCH as mentioned a pictoral confirmation of this development. Calm down cyber world...I present to you my first official "PERK teaser" aka my sneaky way of making sure you curious monkey-blog readers bring yourselves back to LIFOP later today for the...drumroll please...
1st offical "Baby Perks Belly Bump Alert."
Stay tuned...muah ha ha.
Yes, that's right folks. It happened. Baby Perks decided he/she was ready to be seen by the world. Somewhere between Thursday night (post fainting drama @ the gym) and by early yesterday morning my little one made an EBD (executive belly decision.) A little redecorating has been done to the inside of my mid-section, and whatever rearranging my little jelly bean did on the inside is making the changes loud and clear on the exterior of his/her home!
So much so, that over the past few days two things have been said to me to indicate I am officially passed the "looking bloated and nowhere near cute pregnant" stage and on to the "awww she must be expecting" stage. Finally.
While I was teaching on Friday one of my student's moms came into my classroom and said: "Well, Mrs. P...someone's starting to pop!"
Friday night I was out to dinner with some dear friends at a really fun spot and our waitress politely leaned into me with a big smile on her face and asked "Are you expecting dear?" HOLY MOLY. Here's the deal, if you've got the gumption to ask a complete stranger whether or not there's a human currently residing in her stomach you better be SURE there's a baby in there.
So yes, it's official. While I've felt pregnant for months now, I most definitely look pregnant now too! All day long yesterday Daddy Perks kept saying..."Honey? Are you pushing your stomach out?" Believe me when I say, I'm as shocked as he is about how how quickly we've gone from the "bunny hill" bump to the full fledged "double black diamond" tummy. (Just to use a little ski lingo for you bunnies out there.) Ok, so maybe I'm not quite to black diamond status yet, but you get the picture!
One day you're feeling a little gassy and bloated, and the next day you wake up feeling as if you must have consumed 17 thanksgiving dinners all at once for your stomach to look the way it does. And that's just how Daddy Perks is feeling...we won't even get into my sentiment right now ;)
So at this point you're annoyed that I haven't even so MUCH as mentioned a pictoral confirmation of this development. Calm down cyber world...I present to you my first official "PERK teaser" aka my sneaky way of making sure you curious monkey-blog readers bring yourselves back to LIFOP later today for the...drumroll please...
1st offical "Baby Perks Belly Bump Alert."
Stay tuned...muah ha ha.
Saturday, February 21, 2009
An unexpected baby perk...
My Thursday morning started out so innocently. Seriously, just a typical Mommy Perks morning...
*5:45 am...alarm goes off and snooze button is successfully pushed.
*5:55 am...roll out of bed, crawl around in the dark to find workout clothes that aren't too smelly/haven't been used for a couple days. Get dressed. Brush teeth. Consider using a brush, but quickly reevaluate and decide against it. Current disheveled ponytail will have to do.
*6:00 am...Head downstairs to force an icky protein bar down, scrounge up my gym pass and head out into the delightfully blistering winds. Nothing like the biting cold to remind you just how excited you are to be leaving your warm bed in your dark room to go hang out with lots of grunting, weight lifting meatheads and unfortunate women who need to enroll in Spandex 101. (Note-in case you didn't know...Spandex 101 is just a one-time class that teaches you DON'T WEAR SPANDEX.)
*6:05 am...Arrive at Gym. Begin pre-workout ritual. This includes hanging up my coat, filling up my water bottle, and using the facilities-sometimes more than once. (This is to ensure that I can make it an hour-ish without having to pee. If you are/have been pregnant you know that this is quite the accomplishment.)
*6:15 am...Treadmill warm-up.
*6:30 am...Begin 1-hour session with a personal trainer. (NO. I do not HAVE a personal trainer. Ha, I WISH I had that kind of disposable income. Actually, a couple weeks ago I decided to set up this one-time session just to make sure all my exercising I've continued to do since being with child is safe. Once you're pregnant you'll start hearing every "Dont let your heartrate exceed 140 bmp or you'll fry that baby!" and "Oh no! you can't do crunches anymore!" statement, so I just thought it was a good idea to have a trained professional check me on my current workout regimen.
*7:30 am...Wrap up 1-hour ass-kicking session. Seriously...lunges, squats, and all sorts of other weight-resistance bending and twisting. He assured me he's coached his wife through two pregnancies and kept her safe and fit. In fact once he mentioned that his wife had been called the "strongest pusher" their doctor had ever encountered during childbirth I suddenly felt that competitive urge seeping through my pores. Like suddenly, I needed/wanted to steal that title from his wife and be the new, better, harder "pusher."
*7:35 am...Still conversing with the trainer when I feel it coming on. Oh no. I've felt this feeling before. Shit. A sudden flashback to many embarassing moments throughout my childhood flood my mind. The country club tennis courts. The balcony of our condo in North Carolina. The middle of the cafeteria on the first day of summer camp amidst 400 noisy, hungry campers. I try to grab my water bottle to prevent the inevitable.
**Next 3 minutes are not able to be accurately/truthfully documented.**
*7:37 am..."Call 9-1-1, she's pregnant." These are the first words I remember hearing. I lifted my head to find that I was surrounded by every Rec Center employee (one of which was a boy I used to play spin the bottle with in my old neighborhood when I was 9 years old), the personal trainer holding me up, several fat, nosy men who come to the gym to leisurely pedal a bike with no intention of breaking a sweat, and an oxygen tank being hooked to my pale, sweaty face, and eventually several HOT McDreamy-esque paramedics. Score.
If you didn't put it together, I had blacked out/fainted. All I could think was, this poor poor trainer. He's just spent the last hour working out with me and 10 minutes later I'm unconscious and being hooked up to oxygen. Not exactly what you'd deem a proud professional moment. Well here's the thing-don't go developing a hatred for this trainer just yet. I promise that NOTHING we did during that workout caused me to pass out. In fact, the workout was hard, but nothing outside of my comfort zone. The reality is, I've always kind of battled with low blood sugar/wacky glycemic levels throughout my life. Bottom line-if I don't eat, I'll eventually faint. The weird thing was...I had eaten-remember? Grrr...that nasty protein bar. Anyways, the hottie tottie medics began asking me a bunch of questions...you know-THOSE questions.
"What's your address honey? Are you still feeling faint? Is there someone we can call for you? What's your address? How old are you? How far along are you? How much water have you had this morning? What's your address? Did you eat this morning? How do you feel right now? What's your address? Your husband's not answering. Is there someone else we can call for you? Do you still feel faint? What's your address dear?"
OK I GET IT. You're checking to make sure I'm "with it." But for the LOVE of everything good and holy in this world, I'm conscious enough to know my address-and also conscious enough to be annoyed that you've now asked me what it is no less than 17 times! They asked me if I wanted to go to the hospital? No. They asked me if they could drive me home? No. They informed me that I needed to contact my OB as soon as I got home. Duh. And eventually they let me leave the lovely scene I had created at my gym. Nothing like a passed out pregnant lady, oxygen tanks, hot medics and a freaked out personal trainer to add a little excitement to everyone's morning workout.
Well, my drive home left me becoming short of breath again...not because I was going to faint again, but because the reality was looming that I'd have to go home and inform Daddy Perks of what had just transpired. I marched into the house, up the stairs, "refusal of transport to hospital/sign your life away" papers in hand and tried to spat it out all in one sentence so as to make it seem less dramatic:
"Honey? Can you wake up, I need to talk to you for a minute. So I finished my workout this morning, was talking to the trainer afterwards, passed out, knocked my head on the counter, fell, was carried to a bench, got hooked up to oxygen, almost got rushed to the hospital, they couldn't get a hold of you, drank some juice, got my sugar tested, had my blood pressure taken, and now I'm home, so we need to call the doctor to let him know what happened."
Did I say it quick enough? Would we be able to skate over this little mishap and move on with our day or would he totally freak out? Well-a little of both I guess. Once he came down from the intial panic/guilt that he was unreachable when his pregnant wife/unborn child needed him, he took action, called my school to let them know I wouldn't be in today, called our OB to make an impromtu appointment, and ran to McDonald's to get me an egg bagel and greasy hashbrowns. Mc-E-Dee's breakfast helps with low blood sugar right?
So finally...the unexpected baby PERK you've all been wating for:
While Mommy and Baby Perks were being examined at the doctor's office to make sure all was well in belly world, we got to hear the little nugget's heartbeat! Yes siree...he/she is alive and kicking, heartrate is 154 bpm! So if you've read this far and you're thinking to yourself...was it really worth all THAT (blacking out, sweat, bump on the head, embarassment, oxygen, poking & prodding, and annoying question-asking) just to hear our little one's heartbeat?
Absolutely.
*5:45 am...alarm goes off and snooze button is successfully pushed.
*5:55 am...roll out of bed, crawl around in the dark to find workout clothes that aren't too smelly/haven't been used for a couple days. Get dressed. Brush teeth. Consider using a brush, but quickly reevaluate and decide against it. Current disheveled ponytail will have to do.
*6:00 am...Head downstairs to force an icky protein bar down, scrounge up my gym pass and head out into the delightfully blistering winds. Nothing like the biting cold to remind you just how excited you are to be leaving your warm bed in your dark room to go hang out with lots of grunting, weight lifting meatheads and unfortunate women who need to enroll in Spandex 101. (Note-in case you didn't know...Spandex 101 is just a one-time class that teaches you DON'T WEAR SPANDEX.)
*6:05 am...Arrive at Gym. Begin pre-workout ritual. This includes hanging up my coat, filling up my water bottle, and using the facilities-sometimes more than once. (This is to ensure that I can make it an hour-ish without having to pee. If you are/have been pregnant you know that this is quite the accomplishment.)
*6:15 am...Treadmill warm-up.
*6:30 am...Begin 1-hour session with a personal trainer. (NO. I do not HAVE a personal trainer. Ha, I WISH I had that kind of disposable income. Actually, a couple weeks ago I decided to set up this one-time session just to make sure all my exercising I've continued to do since being with child is safe. Once you're pregnant you'll start hearing every "Dont let your heartrate exceed 140 bmp or you'll fry that baby!" and "Oh no! you can't do crunches anymore!" statement, so I just thought it was a good idea to have a trained professional check me on my current workout regimen.
*7:30 am...Wrap up 1-hour ass-kicking session. Seriously...lunges, squats, and all sorts of other weight-resistance bending and twisting. He assured me he's coached his wife through two pregnancies and kept her safe and fit. In fact once he mentioned that his wife had been called the "strongest pusher" their doctor had ever encountered during childbirth I suddenly felt that competitive urge seeping through my pores. Like suddenly, I needed/wanted to steal that title from his wife and be the new, better, harder "pusher."
*7:35 am...Still conversing with the trainer when I feel it coming on. Oh no. I've felt this feeling before. Shit. A sudden flashback to many embarassing moments throughout my childhood flood my mind. The country club tennis courts. The balcony of our condo in North Carolina. The middle of the cafeteria on the first day of summer camp amidst 400 noisy, hungry campers. I try to grab my water bottle to prevent the inevitable.
**Next 3 minutes are not able to be accurately/truthfully documented.**
*7:37 am..."Call 9-1-1, she's pregnant." These are the first words I remember hearing. I lifted my head to find that I was surrounded by every Rec Center employee (one of which was a boy I used to play spin the bottle with in my old neighborhood when I was 9 years old), the personal trainer holding me up, several fat, nosy men who come to the gym to leisurely pedal a bike with no intention of breaking a sweat, and an oxygen tank being hooked to my pale, sweaty face, and eventually several HOT McDreamy-esque paramedics. Score.
If you didn't put it together, I had blacked out/fainted. All I could think was, this poor poor trainer. He's just spent the last hour working out with me and 10 minutes later I'm unconscious and being hooked up to oxygen. Not exactly what you'd deem a proud professional moment. Well here's the thing-don't go developing a hatred for this trainer just yet. I promise that NOTHING we did during that workout caused me to pass out. In fact, the workout was hard, but nothing outside of my comfort zone. The reality is, I've always kind of battled with low blood sugar/wacky glycemic levels throughout my life. Bottom line-if I don't eat, I'll eventually faint. The weird thing was...I had eaten-remember? Grrr...that nasty protein bar. Anyways, the hottie tottie medics began asking me a bunch of questions...you know-THOSE questions.
"What's your address honey? Are you still feeling faint? Is there someone we can call for you? What's your address? How old are you? How far along are you? How much water have you had this morning? What's your address? Did you eat this morning? How do you feel right now? What's your address? Your husband's not answering. Is there someone else we can call for you? Do you still feel faint? What's your address dear?"
OK I GET IT. You're checking to make sure I'm "with it." But for the LOVE of everything good and holy in this world, I'm conscious enough to know my address-and also conscious enough to be annoyed that you've now asked me what it is no less than 17 times! They asked me if I wanted to go to the hospital? No. They asked me if they could drive me home? No. They informed me that I needed to contact my OB as soon as I got home. Duh. And eventually they let me leave the lovely scene I had created at my gym. Nothing like a passed out pregnant lady, oxygen tanks, hot medics and a freaked out personal trainer to add a little excitement to everyone's morning workout.
Well, my drive home left me becoming short of breath again...not because I was going to faint again, but because the reality was looming that I'd have to go home and inform Daddy Perks of what had just transpired. I marched into the house, up the stairs, "refusal of transport to hospital/sign your life away" papers in hand and tried to spat it out all in one sentence so as to make it seem less dramatic:
"Honey? Can you wake up, I need to talk to you for a minute. So I finished my workout this morning, was talking to the trainer afterwards, passed out, knocked my head on the counter, fell, was carried to a bench, got hooked up to oxygen, almost got rushed to the hospital, they couldn't get a hold of you, drank some juice, got my sugar tested, had my blood pressure taken, and now I'm home, so we need to call the doctor to let him know what happened."
Did I say it quick enough? Would we be able to skate over this little mishap and move on with our day or would he totally freak out? Well-a little of both I guess. Once he came down from the intial panic/guilt that he was unreachable when his pregnant wife/unborn child needed him, he took action, called my school to let them know I wouldn't be in today, called our OB to make an impromtu appointment, and ran to McDonald's to get me an egg bagel and greasy hashbrowns. Mc-E-Dee's breakfast helps with low blood sugar right?
So finally...the unexpected baby PERK you've all been wating for:
While Mommy and Baby Perks were being examined at the doctor's office to make sure all was well in belly world, we got to hear the little nugget's heartbeat! Yes siree...he/she is alive and kicking, heartrate is 154 bpm! So if you've read this far and you're thinking to yourself...was it really worth all THAT (blacking out, sweat, bump on the head, embarassment, oxygen, poking & prodding, and annoying question-asking) just to hear our little one's heartbeat?
Absolutely.
Friday, February 20, 2009
PERK of the day...
Who doesn't love a good Friday?!? Seriously, the pure joy of waking up on a Friday knowing the end of the workweek is on the horizon is enough to make me smile. NOT to mention, it's JEANS Friday. That's right folks...it doesn't take much to whip a teacher into a frenzy of joy and excitement. Just the pure bliss of knowing she can wake up, slip on her brand new super stretchy maternity jeans and trot off to school with the knowledge that it doesn't matter what she eats all day. Now, let me be clear...my current love affair with maternity jeans is something that deserves an entire post all by itself. I know that God was smiling down on women when he thought..."you know what? Women work hard. So hard in fact, that I'm going to design a cute pair of jeans for their ever expanding pregnant belly. These jeans will not only provide her the utmost comfort, but also allow her to competely lose sight and concern of her waistline. Never again, while wearing these jeans will women have a fat day." Yes, that's right. It's just the little things-ahem, or very big things elastic waistlines that can perk up a girl's day. Ladies-shhhhh...I'm going to let you in on a little secret. If you're not pregnant and currently rolling your eyes because you can't enjoy this perk...here's the deal: you may secretly purchase/wear these jeans for the following occasions without someone judging you:
*Thanksgiving
*Mexican Restaraunts
*Birthdays
*Italian Restaraunts
*Christmas
*Sunday mornings
*Any other restaraunt that provides you with a refined carboyhydrate to munch on while waiting for your meal. This act is also known as gorging yourself to the point that when your meal arrives you're not even remotely hungry, in fact you're disgusted at what you ordered. But you "take one for the team" and eat it anyways.
All I'm saying people is, it's Friday. If you can't find the super stretchy maternity jean PERK in your day...relax-life's not so bad. Feel free to leave a comment about the perk you're most looking forward to this weekend...if you can't think of your own perk, read the comments below and steal someone elses. Your secret will be safe with me :)
*Thanksgiving
*Mexican Restaraunts
*Birthdays
*Italian Restaraunts
*Christmas
*Sunday mornings
*Any other restaraunt that provides you with a refined carboyhydrate to munch on while waiting for your meal. This act is also known as gorging yourself to the point that when your meal arrives you're not even remotely hungry, in fact you're disgusted at what you ordered. But you "take one for the team" and eat it anyways.
All I'm saying people is, it's Friday. If you can't find the super stretchy maternity jean PERK in your day...relax-life's not so bad. Feel free to leave a comment about the perk you're most looking forward to this weekend...if you can't think of your own perk, read the comments below and steal someone elses. Your secret will be safe with me :)
Thursday, February 19, 2009
Life is indeed more full of PERKS these days...
...literally and figuratively speaking. How you ask? Well, those of you who know my name understand that literally-a mere 6 months from now my husband and I will actually welcome another perk into the world. I'm of course referring to the 3 1/2-inch munchkin that has currently taken up residence in my uterus. So yes world, I'm going to become a Mommy in August. But if I'm being honest though, I already very much feel like a Mommy. I felt that way when I first saw those two pink lines on that little stick and my heart was racing a mile a minute. I felt that way when I told my husband he was going to be a Daddy and the smile he had on his face mirrored the expression I saw in the bathroom when I looked at my very first positive pregnancy test. I felt that way on Christmas morning when we told our mothers they were going to have their first grandchild. And I most certainly felt like a mommy when I spent six weeks during the first trimester singing my brains out to the porcelain gods. Let me tell you, there is nothing pretty about the "puke 'n go" lifestyle I was living during that blissful chapter of maternity so appropriately entitled "morning sickness." I spent many a days fully dressed, make-up done, on my way out the door, when I'd have to conveniently make a pit stop at the bathroom to "morning-sick-myself" through spouts of nausea. But if surviving morning sickness is any indicatication of how I'll size up as a mommy...then I'll go ahead and suit up for what is sure to be the biggest game I ever play in.
So back to the perk(s)...Well-as I thesaurus the word "perk" I have something to confess. I was an english major in college, and despite the cringing my professors would have done had they known how often I used and abused the "right click, scroll down to the thesaurus option to see what other words might sound cooler/better than the one I came up with" method of writing, I still always have Microsoft Word pulled up when I write for this very purpose.)
So "perk" according to Microsoft Word 2007's version of thesaurus, can also be referred to as a bonus, perquisite, plus side, benefit, advantage, or an extra. These all seem to be appropriate references for your impending firstborn right? Well, if you don't agree, or you're not pregnant...then humor me for a moment and imagine a life without any perks. A life without driving in the car and having your favorite song come on the radio. A life where you didn't occasionally walk into Chipotle with a killer burrito bowl craving and seeing that there was no wait. A life without snowdays. (I live in Ohio and I'm a teacher.) A life without marathon re-runs of your favorite TV show. A life without paydays. A life without 3-hour gab sessions with your girlfriends, or Monday night football with your best boys and a hot pizza. You catch my drift. Look, all I'm saying is that we can all probably step back from the chaos that consumes our days and appreciate the little things. Those moments where you can't do anything but laugh. We're all blessed to have them, it's just a matter of perspective. In a time where our society is often consumed by gas prices and job security, we all need a good laugh every now and again everyday. Just one moment to remind us that life's not so bad. In fact I've been having a lot of those moments lately...and I can't wait to share them with you.
So back to the perk(s)...Well-as I thesaurus the word "perk" I have something to confess. I was an english major in college, and despite the cringing my professors would have done had they known how often I used and abused the "right click, scroll down to the thesaurus option to see what other words might sound cooler/better than the one I came up with" method of writing, I still always have Microsoft Word pulled up when I write for this very purpose.)
So "perk" according to Microsoft Word 2007's version of thesaurus, can also be referred to as a bonus, perquisite, plus side, benefit, advantage, or an extra. These all seem to be appropriate references for your impending firstborn right? Well, if you don't agree, or you're not pregnant...then humor me for a moment and imagine a life without any perks. A life without driving in the car and having your favorite song come on the radio. A life where you didn't occasionally walk into Chipotle with a killer burrito bowl craving and seeing that there was no wait. A life without snowdays. (I live in Ohio and I'm a teacher.) A life without marathon re-runs of your favorite TV show. A life without paydays. A life without 3-hour gab sessions with your girlfriends, or Monday night football with your best boys and a hot pizza. You catch my drift. Look, all I'm saying is that we can all probably step back from the chaos that consumes our days and appreciate the little things. Those moments where you can't do anything but laugh. We're all blessed to have them, it's just a matter of perspective. In a time where our society is often consumed by gas prices and job security, we all need a good laugh every now and again everyday. Just one moment to remind us that life's not so bad. In fact I've been having a lot of those moments lately...and I can't wait to share them with you.
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