Orange County Moms Blog

WARNING: Hormones at Play!

Why is it that pregnancy just doesn't seem to bring the best out of women? Between weight gain, a huge belly, skin issues, tears over Hallmark commercials and the ending of Disney movies, and excess perspiration we also get to deal with raging hormones worse than what we experienced in our teenage years. Ah, the joys of growing a child!

I have to admit that I'm at the point in my pregnancy where for the most part I feel as if I'm functioning rather normal (as long as I get some sleep at night). But there are certain things that really set me off. Certain things that have an automatic Panic Button deployment that I feel so out of control on.

How do I explain this to people?

I'm not normally too crazy. But let's face it, I do get a little nutty at times- which I attribute more to my lifestyle of wearing far too many hats, and my lack of ability to say "no" to taking on far too much. Recently there was an incident when a certain person in my life gave me information that just pushed me over the edge. I essentially took the information to be perceived as pressure on me, and then put undue pressure on other people. I panicked. A lot.

Me, and My Projects

I have days where (I feel) that I am failing miserably at being a mother. Like last weekend, for instance. A simple Sunday outing turned in to my youngest crying the entire time and my eldest asking me why our day was being ruined by him. There was nothing I could do really to make the day better. Well, except go home and put my little one down for a nap.

But it seems that whenever I have these epic failure days I turn to projects to redeem myself. Can't succeed at parenthood? Well, I can certainly succeed at completing a project!

I have a long track record of this. When I was having trouble coping with the fact that my eldest had a speech delay and was being evaluated for therapy benefits, I turned to scrap booking. When I was feeling frustrated with my tennis game last summer, I turned to painting my master bedroom a few different colors before settling on a new color! If I'm frustrated with my career, I'll make new pillows for the couch! 

Growing Pains

I never imagined in a MILLION years that I would have three children at the age of twenty-nine. Never in my wildest dreams did I ever think that I would have my children all two years apart, and also... be running out of space at breakneck speed.

Baby number three will be here by August 25th (so help me apparition in the sky), and baby number three wasn't exactly "planned." Of course, she has turned out to be a "pleasant surprise," but when we found out at the end of January that I was already 10 weeks pregnant a wrench surely was thrown in our wheel of life.

I'm starting to feel like the old woman that lived in a shoe. Well, except that I'm not old. That and I probably don't have as many children as she does. Oh, and I certainly don't live in an actual shoe. Anyways, my point is that my house and my car are entirely too small for a family of five. And that is where I don't know what to do. 

Sure, we could move... we could definitely sell our house and settle for a bigger house that we don't love. But I've moved pregnant, and it ain't pretty. Get a new car? Sure, I guess we could do that... we could settle for some larger vehicle that we hate because we can't afford something better, but that would mean we would have to wait longer for that bigger house... the one we actually love, instead of settle for. In this case, I can't have my cake and eat it, too. Because as we all know money doesn't grow on trees.

A Dose of Reality

 I'd like to preface this by letting you all know how hard it was for me to even write about this subject, let alone read about this topic, but I thought that with Mother's Day around the corner and the fact that this is a Mom-centric site that we might all benefit from a little heart-string tugging. I recently read an article on CNN.com (and this subject has been all over the news, not just CNN.com) about a court fight being waged over a brain-damaged mother's triplets and her right to visitation. What I read in the article was absolutely heart breaking, and here's why.

The story goes that Abbie Dorn was a healthy and athletic young woman whom always wanted children. In June 2006 she got her wish, with Triplets. But unfortunately she had a complicated and difficult birth, which left her severely brain damaged. During the delivery Abbie began bleeding severely and went into cardiac arrest, which deprived her brain of oxygen. Medical personnel were not able to resuscitate her for nearly 20 minut. After she was revived, her condition initially seemed to improve. But over the next three days, she took a turn for the worse.

Sorry, But I Won't Be Making It To Your Home Party

Jewelry, skincare, juice, purses, jewelry, chocolate, clothing, MORE juice, MORE jewelry!

The home parties. Do they ever stop?

I get invited to at least one home party per month. Most of the time I politely decline the invite, because I'm not in to paying way too much for something not that great. And yes, I know that the host gets a "credit" for all of the sales netted from the party.

I'm on to your ways of wanting to get me to show up. Your enticing "door prizes" bribe that is really not worth me hiring a babysitter for. Your promise of a discount, that really doesn't save me any money in the long run. Your jewelry that is made my "Hindu Artisans" that arrives in the mail looking like it got run over by a Mac truck on a dirt road in Timbuktu.

I'd like my AA-Cups back now, please.

Boobs. Some people love them, obsess over them... can't get enough of them. PAY to get them alarmingly large!

And me? I just can't stand them. I never in a million years thought I'd say I wouldn't enjoy having a large bosom, but please take these from me as soon as possible.

I'm pregnant with my third child, and we all know that what comes with territory of child bearing comes growing gazongas. My first trimester I didn't change size at all. In fact, that's probably why I had no idea I was pregnant until the 10th week! But once I hit my second trimester, it was game over for me. My athletic, size zero body sporting very manageable AA-Cups grew 10 inches in waist and four cup sizes in a matter of 7 weeks!

The belly I can deal with, the melons I can't. Who likes these things? It's nearly impossible for me to find a bra that fits correctly since I have a small rib cage, and these suckers are heavy (no pun intended)! Since I can't find a proper fitting bra that costs less than $75 in a 30-32 D, I'm dealing with lovely back and shoulder pain that is honestly tolerable, but more a nuisance than anything else. But seriously, if you had a choice... would you want gigantic milk maids on your chest?

Kids, We're Getting a Minivan.

I'm not proud to say that I'm going to be getting a Minivan pretty soon. I mean, sure... they aren't the old steal boxes with fake wood siding that used to crowd the parking lot of my school growing up, but to me there is that stigma attached to them. That stigma that tells the world, "I've given up on my life, and now I drive a Minivan."

First off, let's start with the fact that I in no way think that Motherhood is giving up on life. As we all know it's the hardest job we'll ever have that we love more than anything else in the world. Of course, I'm also not saying that a Minivan is necessarily giving up on life either. But I can't help but think about all of the Moms that drove those in the 80's and 90's that wore knee socks, bermuda shorts, turtle necks, or *gasp* MOM JEANS while driving their family movers proudly from school to extra curricular activities. When I was growing up, my Mom always looked cool. If she wasn't driving a Porsche (I'm dead serious about that), wearing a Tennis Outfit, and sporting Pat Banetar hair then she was dressed at the height of fashion driving a Benz. Sure, I grew up in a world that is different than most. But what my Mom taught me is that just because you are a Mother, that doesn't mean you can't still look cool and feel good about yourself.

She always drove a car she liked that suited her needs, and while some of them were a bit more exotic then I could ever dream of affording, she still stuck true to herself rather then just give up. All this time, when I've had my Mother-in-Law tell me that just because I am a Mom means I can't wear high heels anymore, or that I have to start dressing more like a Mom I've RESISTED her notions and telling myself that I don't have to be like her, because I can be like me. I've fought hard to prove that you can still be "you" while still being "Mommy." I think that with all of that resistance has brought the fight against the Minivan in me.

Damn straight, I spend all of the Money!

I'm not just the wife and mother in my house. I'm also errand girl, chef, cleaning lady, business traveler, personal stylist, person who takes children to Urgent Care at 10:00 PM... I think you get the idea. In the realm of everything that is part of our life, I am the person that handles it all (and then some).

So there is always this argument between me and my husband about how I'm the one that spends all of the money. Well, of course I do! But that's because I take care of everything that needs to be taken care of to run this household and family, and my husband doesn't.

Mortified Mommy

I'm really lucky to have such wonderful children that are sweet and loving. I hardly ever have a problem with aggression in my household, which I chalk up to Time Outs for discipline instead of other aggressive acts that I know some parents are in to (to each their own, I suppose).

Other than the occasional argument over a toy which is usually resolved quickly and painlessly, we have never had one of our little boys "attack" the other in retaliation. Except for yesterday, when I became the most mortified parent in Ladera Ranch.

It was a seemingly normal Sunday afternoon, and the boys had just gotten up from their nap. The rain had let up, so it was time for them to get outside to play. My eldest has been my "Cabana Boy" lately, which is great. That means I can check on them periodically to make sure everything is OK while I do things like prepare dinner, clean the living room, etc. The "Cabana Boy" also comes in handy when "Pregnant Mommy" is hugging the toilet.