I'm Changing My Name to Starla and Auditioning For WWF Smackdown

Some women love nursing.

La Leche League will tell you how amazing it is for your baby, that it is bonding. If you care about your baby, it's what you should do. You are a terrible person if you don't. That's right, why bother to carry a baby nine months if you don't breastfeed. Ten thousand organizations say you should nurse at least 12 months. The Nutrition! The Antibodies! The Perfect Biological Match! You need to do it. You have to.

But if you can't, formula is fine. We don't want to guilt you.

Bleh.

I hate people telling me what to do, but they do have some valid points.

I will point out though, how nothing really tells you how PAINFUL nursing is. You want the experience? Go into your pantry, grab a chip clip and put it on your nipples. Now twist. Repeat every two hours, whether you are sleeping or not.

Now I would bet half of my lovely female readers are dying to give me six thousand tips on how to do it the correct way. It seems to be the nature of having a child, everyone wants to give you advice.  Save your keystrokes. Me and J have it down and it's not so bad now. Although, I fully believe that I can bond just as well with bottle of formula.

There is one problem with that though.  I was ready to say, "Screw you La Leche League! Take your Lansinoh and give it to someone who wants to do this enough to get sore and bleeding nipples (Husband: Nipples can bleed? Yes, a nursing side effect, along with infections and blocked ducts and ...)." Little unbeknown to me, Mother Nature had collaborated with the League. She said nursing was my choice, but if I refused then I had to let my boobs turn into Old Faithful and soak through my clothes every hour on the hour. Maternity clothes. Because despite the fact I am wearing my pre-pregnancy jeans (YES! I don't care if you hate me, I'm too happy!), I can't wear any of my old tops because now I look like a pornstar.

Fine, I'll do this whole nursing thing. And since I'm crying, bleeding, leaking, sniffling, I might as well start drooling too so that every orifice gets to participate.

Remember how the pee stick was overly complicated for us? We managed to conquer the car seat, stroller, and crib, but the breast pump definitely baffled us. So we googled it. Well I should say husband googled it.

He will never be the same.

However, we did find the most amazing product that I have to share with you.

From zygote to baby burrito: An epic tale

One of the boys in my sixth hour asked what dilated meant after overhearing a conversation between some of the girls and I. I told him I'd be happy to explain but he'd have to be able to handle the words uterus and vagina. He nodded his head in ok, then turned a little pink and let loose the smile he was trying to hold in. He couldn't hold it any longer and explained, "It's just weird to hear you say it!" I told him that out of everyone, it should be the least weird to hear the words from your science teacher. He told me it's always weird from adults.



Needless to say, he didn't learn about dilation from me. And since I am aware of the sensitivities of some that read this blog, the full story with all disgusting details is after the jump. Beware, it's a long one, but I had so many great titles, I had to use them all. And it is probably waaaaaaaay more information than you ever wanted, but I always like reading what other women have experienced. Remember, no one is making you read it :)

Merry Christmas!

May your Christmas be as blessed as ours

-Me, the Husband, Baby J, and the little old elf, Husband's Grandpa Jack

Introducing the Mommy Blog

I'll try to still be entertaining, but you can understand if I'm a little obsessed.

3.5 College Degrees Between Us and We're Baffled By a Pee Stick

I have commitment issues.

It mostly comes down to opportunity cost. I just don't like having to give up all the other available options. Hence my thumb-tacked wallpaper and three years of a dirt backyard. I only adopted a dog because it was originally a 6wk puppy sitting. I only started dating my husband because he assured me it wasn't going to be serious.


See, commitment issues.


Now kids is really spelled c-o-m-m-i-t-m-e-n-t. I couldn't bring myself to jump on the baby train because, hello, that's a friggin' LIFETIME! There's no take-backs. As far as I was concerned babies took away your body, your sleep, your time, your brainpower, your energy, your peace of mind, your spontaneity, your money, and, and, and. And what benefits do you get out of the deal? Something cute (debatable) that calls you momma and you get to become a card carrying member of the mommy club. The only pro-progeny argument that actually held some logical weight with me was you get someone who will take care of you when you're old. And even that is a crapshoot.

So I thoroughly enjoyed my childless life. I enjoyed my job, which satisfied any maternal instincts. Thanks to a mother who taught me how to live a life that could take a family of 7 to Europe on a teacher's salary, we managed to buy a house fresh out of college, pay off all our student loans, pay off a car, landscape the yard, travel to San Fransisco, Greece, Washington D.C., New York, and more. We ate out , stayed up late, slept in, hung out with friends on a whim, did spontaneous things, and generally enjoyed an awesome life.

Who would want to mess that up? I sure didn't.


Unfortunately, God did.


The other day a friend asked if she could ask a personal question. I preemptively answered, "Yes, baby girl was planned." I took it as a compliment when she replied that she knew I was way too organized and good at planning for an oops and proceeded to ask a different question.

Baby girl was always in the five year plan from the beginning, but looking at the end of life as I enjoyed it scared the crap out of me. I tried telling the good Lord that I don't really like babies. I haven't asked to hold a baby in years, it's just not my thing. I will happily intervene if a child is about to seriously maim himself, but I'm not going to try and soothe tears or clean up his messes if a parent is around. And if I worked just one more year....imagine the possibilities! We could buy a new car cash! Go to China! Spend a month in Europe! Heck, we could buy a house in Maricopa with cash! What's the hurry, Lord? I'm still young! I could easily spend another year informing people that "When are you going to have kids?" is a rude question under most circumstances.

But I have only enjoyed the wonderful life I have because I sincerely try to listen when God tells me to do something. So I took the leap from the lion's head. Well, more like a hesitant step, trying to feel the invisible bridge with my toe. We decided to stop not trying. Different than trying. I'll freely admit I chickened out more than once. I tried to believe God when he told me that I'd enjoy being a mom, but those little pink bunny days on the online calendar scared me.

Fast forward through months of trying to figure out if every physical change like heartburn or nausea was forewarning that I had crossed the point of no return, only to be relieved each month. I spent spring break in upstate new york visiting my bff. I confessed to her that I was late for the first time since mother nature decided I was a mature female. Bff just happens to have a little test on hand. So with trepidation, nervousness, a little excitement mixed with adrenaline, and absolute oblivion from my husband in AZ, I pee.

I spent the two minute wait telling myself that it will be cool to have kids and trying to make myself believe it.

It must have worked because when Bff and I check the stick, the minus sign brought a tinge of sad instead of overwhelming relief.

Fast forward again and I'm done playing this maybe/maybe not game. I'm a couple days late for the 2nd time in my life. I ask John if I should pee on a stick or just wait a few more days. He says wait, and my practical brain (possibly the librarian) says why waste the money when a few more days will tell you either way. I don't like waiting, so I tell the librarian it's only a couple bucks and go for it anyways. I announce to John that if we had pizza rolls, he should nuke them (an obscure Scrubs reference where Turk makes pizza rolls every time his wife takes a pregnancy test because the wait time and cook time are the same).

The timer beeps. I do my best to make the emotional preparations for either scenario.

I look.

I look again.

I tell John to come look.

Me: So is that a positive or not?
John: I don't know. What do you think?
Me: It could be. It might just be the outline of where the chemical stuff is
John: Well what's it supposed to look like?
Me: (consulting the instructions) It says all of these pictures mean positive
John: It looks kinda like that
Me: Kinda.
John: I don't know
Me: Me neither. What do we do now?
John: I don't know
Me: I think it's positive.
John: I think you're right.
Me: I guess I'll take another one tomorrow morning. The instruction says it works better
John: ok
Me: ok.
...

Me:So I think we're going to have a kid.
John: yeah. I think you're right.
Me: yeah.
...

Me: I guess we should get ready for bed.
John: Yeah

So we get ready for bed. I try and figure out how I feel about all this and all the excitement, fear, panic, happiness that I expected to feel are absent because of our inability to confidently read a pregnancy test. I've been prepped by friends and family that men process the news differently than women. I notice John has a look of concentration instead of his habitual instant-sleep-as-his-head hits the pillow. I ask him if he is mentally calculating the costs of having a kid.

John: No, I'm visualizing how to change the master cylinder in the g20.

Fast forward a few months. It's 2am and I can't lay my head down flat without puking. I definitely want a take back. I'm driving to school and have to pull over to puke in a ditch. I want a take back. Fast forward to finding out I have diabetes and will miss out on Halloween, Thanksgiving, and most of Christmas goody season. About three days of sincerely wanting a take back. Oh and each time I want a take back, massive amounts of guilt ensue because a take back means not having this baby. And I don't want that either. Vicious, vicious loop.

And we fast forward to here. Like the movie Spaceballs, we're in now-now. I've just finished my last day as a teacher for who knows how long. I have more things for baby than I ever dreamed. I'm winded with the littlest physical activity. I get a new ugly purple stretch mark every day. I'm waiting for some lab results to see if this uncontrollable itching that wakes me up at night is another complication. I've been teaching each day despite insomnia. I have an induction scheduled in two days.

I'm looking at going through the worst pain of my life full in the face and do I want a take back?


Not a chance.


Because I can't wait to see that little foot that has been jammed in my ribs for the past nine months. I can't wait to see if I was right in those boring moments in college genetics spent calculating the probability of our babies having red hair and green eyes. I can't wait to wrap her up in those soft blankets and watch her yawn.


I can't wait. And I don't take it back.

Christmas Card

Ada

Ada is not part of the family.

She is my jogging buddy, my entertainment, my vacuuming motivation, and my composter, but not my surrogate child. She is not in our Christmas card, nor does she have her own scrapbook. But since I still love her, she does get a blog post.

And since I upgraded to a fancy pants new camera, she has also taken on the job as my primary photography subject.

She can pick her nose with her tongueShe rocks at frisbee. Unfortunately, she will only let go of the frisbee if another one has started flying. She chooses to hold onto the frisbee, even if offered steak bits when commanded to "give." So we always take two frisbees.

She will dead on sprint for 30minutes or more before contemplating a break.She also defends us from new holiday decorations by growling at them until she gets the courage to give them a good sniff. She'll hop in the car with any dog-rescuing snowbird, but she's ready to attack plastic bags and stuffed mice.


I think the snowbirds may be rubbing off on her, because now she loves to sit on a bench and ponder the rain.

There is an end in sight

Baby J is scheduled for a birthday at 9:00pm Dec 17th :) We'll see if she'll decide to wait that long.

Sorry for all those who bet for later dates!

(I am typically against belly shots, especially the cheesy ones like the belly heart, but what started as a joke during our Xmas card shoot ended up surprisingly pretty)

Saturday Steal: General Patton Needed Less to Take Europe in WWII

Don't forget to enter the contest! And this post is participating in Camille's Saturday Steals

Our lovely consumerist society will tell you that there are 6000 things you NEED to have before you have a baby. The whole industry capitalizes on mommy guilt, making you feel inferior or that you don't love your baby if you don't purchase ridiculously overpriced accessories. Now, I'm willing to fork over some cash for things that will legitimately make this whole raising a child thing easier. I saved my whole summer incentive check so I can forgo daily craigslist runs and get exactly what I want new and use it for all my future spawn. But my practicality still reigns and I only want to buy new essentials.

One problem.

No one agrees on what pieces are "essential."

Some moms would raise a golden shrine and pay daily homage to the baby swing. Others had children who hated it and thought it a complete waste. Some moms SWEAR by (insert blank). You absolutely have to have it.

Thankfully, I recently watched the documentary Babies. Husband watched about five minutes of it to test out some tv/audio/hidef/blah and was scarred by what the ratings refer to as "maternal nudity." My 8th grade English teaching sister had a girl student say in reference to the movie, "I've never seen so many titties in my life!" which may or may not have had a whole class of 8th grade boys renting it that evening. Anyways, besides showing lots and lots of nursing boobs, it showed the raising of babies in some other less developed countries. The little Nambian baby didn't have a soothie pacifier. The Mongolian baby didn't have Baby Einstein. You don't really need much to have a baby. So I've tried to make that my mantra.

But there is ONE thing you truly need to have a baby. Well besides boobs.

A car seat.

Mostly because they won't let you leave the hospital without one. So we commenced the research. There are as many opinions about the best car seat as the iphone vs droid. The Cadillac of car seats is the Britax. A Cadillac can get you to work just as well as a Kia, but you pay out the nose for all the little nice to have features. Husband feels that anything to make the getting of a baby in and out of the car is worth it. Straps that never tangle? Clips that won't burn the kid in the middle of summer? Sounds awesome, but $230 awesome?

Well my amazing husband found a internet deal (possibly a glitch on the website but it worked :)) and was able to get this, this, and this for $300. If you add up the prices of the two car seats and the stroller, they equal about $630. Score! But it gets better...


Unfortunately, Cadillac car seats are made for Escalade driving soccer moms. Not yuppies in a Honda fit. So we went to the BedBathandBeyond filled with baby stuff, buybuybaby. If that name doesn't scream consumerism, I don't know what does. However, their ease of returns and customer service, and AWESOME goody bag if you decide to secretly register, make it awesome. Well, they accepted our car seat return for store credit, even though I had no receipts because it wasn't purchased there. But since they were going to turn it around and sell it for more than the online shop was going to, I didn't feel bad. I used the credit to get a combo jogger and carseat for $200.

Now to make things even better, buybuybaby also accepts competitor coupons like 20% off any item to BabiesRUs. Which I completely forgot to bring. But that's ok, they said I could bring the coupon and the receipt back and they'd credit it me the money. Which they did the next week without any hesitancy. Their customer service was exceptional. So I then spent the rest of the credit on other baby stuff that was overpriced and wouldn't have bought except that it felt like it was free.
So let's total this up:

Infant car seat, jogging stroller, Britax toddler seat, Britax umbrella stroller, and $60 worth of miscellaneous baby nonessentials all new for $300.

Now if you add in the ridiculous generosity from the baby shower, you can understand why my front room looked like this. Long live consumerism!

That time the husband was finishing his grad school class and I couldn't play plantsvszombies

So I spent way too much time on the internet and started posting easy posts on the blog daily, because the cool posts are too much work.

Mi madre collects nativity scenes from all over the world, but she hasn't done one like this.


I found it via my old jr high facebook friend with whom I rarely interact but still find hilarious, who linked to Blame It On the Voices. (considering the giveaway post, the URL is that much funnier)

Science Teacher Rule #100

No one completely grows out of the junior high mentality.


Even Matt Lauer


p.s. don't forget to enter the contest!

The Crazies and Prizes! But not Crazy Prizes

Baby girl is due dec 21. I've been getting vibes that she is going to make her appearance before then. I'm trying to decide if it was intuition or wishful thinking. I've been mostly basing it on how often I found myself fighting the Crazies. The Crazies are the surges of hormones that lead to irrationality, be it due to low blood sugar, pregnancy, sleep deprivation, etc. Thankfully I have this little dry, librarian-like voice that lives in the back of my head and tells me when an emotional response is not warranted given the situation. The voice allows me to keep the Crazies at bay pretty well. I even had several students remark on how they have never seen me get upset. And let me tell you, that is an accomplishment when you deal with 150 freshmen students on a daily basis.

I feel bad for those without the librarian voice. While it may sound very schizo, the librarian also catalogs the loads of useless information floating around. So when I called my students chickadees, and a few asked me what the heck a chickadee was, the librarian spouts off "a little bird that lives in the South." I had no active knowledge of this information and would have totally botched it on Jeopardy. My active brain would have said, a synonym for little children. It took awhile but experience has taught me that the librarian is accurate about 95% of the time. I googled chickadee and it is a bird, but I didn't find anything saying it lived in the South.

What's that you say? You already knew I was odd and should probably be on some kind of anti-psychotic medication? Things like this you shouldn't confess on a public blog to the world? Bah! Be that way. Me and the librarian voice will go play trivial pursuit off by ourselves...

Anyways, back to the epic War of the Crazies 2010, also known as Growing a Fetus 101, How to Live When Sleeping, Eating, and Exercise are Ruined, or That Time I Got Knocked Up. While me and the librarian have been working overtime to prevent the throwing of objects, verbal abuse to strangers, and crocodile tears, Baby J has decided her alien like movements need a larger audience.

Ladies and grossed out Gentlemen, may I declare 70% effacement and 2cm dilation! And yes, if you clicked the link because you are living in the blissful world of pregnancy ignorance, all biological related details of having a baby are disgusting.

So we are going to have a little contest to let you share in the world of excitement that is ruptured membranes and mucus plugs. Guess my baby's bday correctly and you win a prize! Only one guess per person. You may have the same guess as someone else. You may put in a request for a specific prize.

I have no idea what the prize will be. It can be something crafty you'd like to commission from me (I always love those!) or perhaps and invitation to the giant carbohydrate-filled celebration commemorating the end of my diabetes. I am open to suggestions.

AND you can submit a guess up to when I announce I'm going into labor. Don't be shy! I have no problems shipping a prize to a random stranger in India who enjoys reading my ramblings and schizophrenic confessions.

Good luck!

Science Teacher rule #80

Somehow, kids really do learn some wit.

I asked a kid to take these off. Image from here

"But Mrs. Anderson, these are my reading glasses. Get it?"

Remember that time when I didn't blog for a bit?

I would apologize, but there is no reason. Blogging without obligation is my mantra. I don't have any science teacher rules but maybe that's a good thing. I only have 3.5 weeks of teaching left so I'll have to wean my poor readers off them. Don't despair though, I'm sure massive sleep deprivation will make me more amusing. Or dead.

Until then, I will try to get around to writing about 1) my very first suns game, 2)my spiffy new camera, 3) the overwhelming generosity from a baby shower, 4) the awesome steal I got on car seats and strollers, 5) my crazy manipulative dog.

But those may or may not happen since I've developed a slight addiction to Plants vs Zombies.



Brains.

(that only makes sense if you've played the game. The zombies walk around saying it in a very humorous voice. Yes, jokes are lame if you have to explain them. Sorry.)

Science Teacher Rule #40

The way teenagers deal with their problems is different than adults.


Bob: Haha you're so dumb Joe.

Joe: What was that Bob?

Bob: You heard me *chin tilt*

Joe: What? You wanna go? *stands up*

Bob: Yeah I wanna go *stands up*

Joe: Alright let's go *tension builds*



Unison: "Rock, Paper, Scissors, go!"




If only all conflict resolution were so easy.

Science Teacher Rule #35

No one ever assumes it was the teacher who farted.


One more lovely lifestyle addition to being pregnant is uncontrollable flatulence. I was walking between the rows of my students this week and boom! One slips out. Because of the sitting to standing height ratios, I definitely farted right on the back of a girl's head. If she was turned around, it would have been right in her face.


No one said a word.


Either A) they didn't notice or B) they were trying to protect their poor anonymous friend from embarrassment.

There are definitely some perks about being the teacher :)

Science Teacher Rule #73

Lower your expectations for jr high geography knowledge.


When asked, "What is a country you'd like to visit?" the following were popular answers

Europe
Alaska
Paris
Rome
Jabuti
California


None of which are countries. Hopefully you already knew, although I did have to look up Jabuti myself.

Halloween

I was excited for my costume this year, only to be foiled by my tendency for eccentric dress. Since no one knew I was dressed up, no one bothered to guess who I was. So who do you think readers?

Science Teacher Rule #52

Students should not be allowed opinions in the naming of a child.



"If you have your baby on Christmas, you should name it Jesus."



And I'm sorry for breaching my student anonymity a bit but this student's name is Jesus (as in "hey zeus")

Science Teacher Rule #31

There is such a thing as a stupid question. It is the one answered immediately before that you weren't paying attention to.


stupid questioner upon hearing this rule: "Huh. That's the second time a teacher has said that to me today."


She didn't understand why I was laughing.

New York, Neeeww Yoooooooork *must be sung*

As it happens, I DO love New York in the fall! Two days after we went to Balloon Fiesta, we hopped on the plane to New York. Ends up flying was easier than the car ride because I could stretch out in an aisle and pee at any given moment. Both doable at 31 weeks, however, I have decided that I will be keeping my adventures to those with minimal travel time. And stairs. Stupid subway entrances are now worse than a triathlon.

Anyways, here is a pictorial representation. With lots of belly shots this time. It's getting hard to have anything without the big belly these days.

My best friend from 8th grade, the famed Pëtra (wow I still remember that it's alt 0235 for the ë, well my fingers do) is living the dream in Manhattan and we celebrated her bday in this super swanky restaurant that I wanted to take pictures of because it was so Manhattan . My green sweatshirt was definitely out of place in the coat check :)

30 Rock anyone?
Top of the Rock(efellar center)
Museum of Modern Art (MoMa)
FAO Shwartz, biggest toy store in the world, next to the Apple store, biggest toy store in the world (yes you take an elevator down into it)
Empire State BuildingLong exposure at sunset
Statue of Liberty and Ellis Island (totally worth going up into the pedestal for the "making of" museum)
Natural History MuseumWe saw Promises, Promises with Sean Hayes (Just Jack from Will and Grace), Molly Shannon, and every other week except when we went Kristen Chenoweth. Fun show, go see it)
Metropolitan Museum of Art
And a little Central Park.

Finally, a chance to see me fat! aka Balloon Fiesta 2010

When I first told my best friend Suz I was pregnant, she mailed me this card. Proof of her awesomeness.

So at last you can see some pictures of my big fat belly. This was 29wks. We went to Balloon Fiesta in Albuquerque, NM to visit my buddy Brian and to introduce my parents to the wonder that is having hundreds of hot air balloons go up all around you.

We also went up the Sandia tram for the first time. Before the $20 ticket seemed pretty steep to my college budget. I didn't realize how incredibly cool it is! And how cool my parents are who refused to let us pay for it. A tad windy, and made my heart lonely for Flagstaff. Got to love the hair though :)

It was great for my soul to be up in clean air and hike around for a bit. The view was excellent and there was much more to do at the top than I thought.

Then the next morning we got up at 4:30 to see the Dawn Patrol. The first two balloon in the air were actually boobs, complete with darker circle at the top, for breast cancer awareness month. And I thought my chest was big.

The early morning light makes all of the hot air balloons glow when they use the flames. Plus it makes all of your pictures turn out well, even if you just have a point and shoot. Then the shaped balloons start going up.Her name is Aribella and if the wind is bad, she falls over because she's HUGE!

All the balloons inflate right next to each other. You are so close that you can go up and touch them. My favorites are the bees. Normally they launch holding hands and then fly apart. This year they added a baby bee :) Balloon Fiesta the first and second week of October every year. Definitely something you should add it to your bucket list. My parents agree that pictures cannot truly do it justice.