Having a baby is a big decision, and while you ought to be prepared to give it all up in an effort to be the perfect mama, saying goodbye to those precious moments of respite you savour when trying simultaneously to juggle a career, a household, a rockin’ bod, a social life and a full refrigerator (unless your husband actually does the groceries?) isn’t always as easy as it seems. Once your little one makes his/her arrival, all your minutes are instantaneously redirected towards feedings, diaper changes, doctors appointments, and bouncing up and down like a maniac trying to soothe a crying baby. They say this will only last for a little while (I’ll let you know in another month or so).
The point is, people don’t really tell you what exactly you’re giving up as a woman once you decide to have a baby (and it’s a good thing, otherwise human procreation would surely come to an alarming and immediate standstill). This is of course because the pay-off (a super cute, loving, minion sized bundle of joy) is totally worth at (and because woman have a biological component that deletes the trauma of birth and the time that immediately follows). Whatever the reason, there are a few things I wish I’d known before taking the dive into motherhood – not that I wouldn’t have done it anyways, but at least I would have had a better idea of what the first few months had in store. So, here it is; the stuff that every woman should know before dropping the pill and pinning their legs against a headboard in the hopes of sending swimmers to meet their mate. Do these things while you can ladies, and savour them for all of us.
*note: drinking wine is excluded because after giving birth I immediately reinstated a glass or two every other day – let’s be honest, that’s just responsible parenting. Continue reading “10 things every woman should enjoy before having a baby”
What is the cost of putting other peoples live in peril?
At 9 months pregnant, I’m trying to be a “cautious” driver. I’m being exceedingly courteous, I’m driving at an appropriate speed and I’m resisting the temptation to pummel reckless drivers who take absolutely no one into consideration but themselves. A few days ago, however, I officially hit my limit. During my one hour commute to the city for a routine check-up in the “city” (yes, I’m officially a “suburbian” and, in exchange for peace and quiet, have to suffer an insane commute into the city), I passed two people obviously texting with their head facing down and eyes anywhere but where they should have been, which was on the road. I also witnessed one car pass another in the same lane, because apparently switching lanes to pass is simply too, what… time consuming?
The final straw came when I had to lean on my horn in order to slow down an insane speedster switching in between cars to gain all of 2 inches on the car in front, to the left, and to the right of him. Him and his buddy were chuckling as they passed me on the right hand side. Had I not been driving the older of our two cars still equipped with roll down windows, I would have shouted something along the lines of “I’m 9 months pregnant, you asshole!” but unfortunately technology put a stop to that rather quickly. And should it really matter that I’m pregnant? Are people that immune to the possibility of ending the life of another fully developed human being that it would take threatening them with being responsible for death in the womb to make them adhere to the basic traffic laws? I feel like unless we all plaster portraits outside our window, driving home the fact that each person in a vehicle is someone’s mother, brother, sister, aunt, son, daughter, husband, wife, or friend – the desensitization isn’t going to stop anytime soon. How sad, is that? Continue reading “Baby on board: The selfish nature of those who text and drive”
So, at 6 months pregnant (and counting), I’ve finally come to the conclusion that, equipped with an added 20 lbs packed on and an increasingly temperamental bladder, I needed an alternative to running (sigh). While I can still mount an elliptical and break into the odd jog, with mini-giraffe sitting so darn low in my belly, the bouncing – more often than not – quickly ushers me into a brisk-paced walk and, after weeks of denial, I’ve admitted defeat. Nay, not defeat, more the need to stretch my horizons and explore the world of… power walking. Continue reading “Power walking: Not just for the geriatric”