To all of my trusty Three Is The New Two readers (I know who you are, and even if I don't - I know what town you live in), I'm going to ask for opinions here. I asked Karl for his opinion during my amazing birthday dinner last night and now I want yours.
I read this article yesterday and I want to know what you think. I love things that make me re-evaluate my beliefs, even if I always come to the same conclusions in the end. I'm not going to say how I feel about it (yet), I just want to hear how other people read things like this and what they come away with. What do you think?
Questions? Comments? Rude remarks?
Thursday, April 16, 2009
Tuesday, April 14, 2009
Tall Women Unite
Today I have already met 2 other women who are as tall as I am. I had a 15 minute conversation with one woman about what it is like to be tall. She was in her 40s and had two 10-year-old girls, who were obviously going to be pretty tall adults themselves. We talked about how she was nervous for her girls to grow up in a world that makes it very difficult to be tall and female. I told her I had the same fears for this little girl that I'm growing.
We talked about what it's like to fly coach with super-sized femurs. We talked about what it's like to never be able to find pants that fit in a normal store and how expensive it is to pay for being tall once you do find clothes that fit. We discussed the woes of finding tall maternity clothes. We talked about what it's like to have extremely low self-confidence as a result of having the fact that you are different being pointed out constantly. We both had the same idea to make shirts that say, "No, I Don't Play Basketball!" I felt completely understood. She told me it was like therapy to talk to me and kept apologizing for taking up my time, but I loved every second of it.
For obvious reasons, all but one of my girlfriends over the course of my life have all been way shorter than me. When I met my friend, Joanie (5' 11''), in Colorado it was like my life changed. Before that, I had never known what it was like to be friends with a girl who could look me straight in the eyes. I loved her, not only because she was an amazing friend, but because she understood. Unfortunately, she lives on the other side of the country from me. I miss her terribly sometimes.
Anyway, I feel refreshed today because I feel understood once again. Instead of being disregarded and told how I should be grateful for my height by someone who has no idea of what it's actually like to be tall, I have talked to an older woman who has walked in my shoes. She did nothing but relate with me. We are all born with different personalities, and for those of us who do not crave attention, it is extremely uncomfortable to live in a body that makes you different from most women and by it's nature makes it impossible to hide the fact that you are different.
Of course, I love the fact that I will probably never look stocky in anything I wear and I'm grateful that I can reach things on the highest shelf. I know that God put me in this body for some reason and I am learning to love it. I think tall women are beautiful and if this little bean inside of me is going to get more of the tall genes than the short ones (there aren't many) I really want to show her that being tall is something to be proud of. Still, I am more than aware of the obstacles she will eventually face and I am thankful that she will have a mama who understands what she's going through.
We talked about what it's like to fly coach with super-sized femurs. We talked about what it's like to never be able to find pants that fit in a normal store and how expensive it is to pay for being tall once you do find clothes that fit. We discussed the woes of finding tall maternity clothes. We talked about what it's like to have extremely low self-confidence as a result of having the fact that you are different being pointed out constantly. We both had the same idea to make shirts that say, "No, I Don't Play Basketball!" I felt completely understood. She told me it was like therapy to talk to me and kept apologizing for taking up my time, but I loved every second of it.
For obvious reasons, all but one of my girlfriends over the course of my life have all been way shorter than me. When I met my friend, Joanie (5' 11''), in Colorado it was like my life changed. Before that, I had never known what it was like to be friends with a girl who could look me straight in the eyes. I loved her, not only because she was an amazing friend, but because she understood. Unfortunately, she lives on the other side of the country from me. I miss her terribly sometimes.
Anyway, I feel refreshed today because I feel understood once again. Instead of being disregarded and told how I should be grateful for my height by someone who has no idea of what it's actually like to be tall, I have talked to an older woman who has walked in my shoes. She did nothing but relate with me. We are all born with different personalities, and for those of us who do not crave attention, it is extremely uncomfortable to live in a body that makes you different from most women and by it's nature makes it impossible to hide the fact that you are different.
Of course, I love the fact that I will probably never look stocky in anything I wear and I'm grateful that I can reach things on the highest shelf. I know that God put me in this body for some reason and I am learning to love it. I think tall women are beautiful and if this little bean inside of me is going to get more of the tall genes than the short ones (there aren't many) I really want to show her that being tall is something to be proud of. Still, I am more than aware of the obstacles she will eventually face and I am thankful that she will have a mama who understands what she's going through.
Monday, April 13, 2009
Working Mom Appreciates Time Away From Motherhood
I have a love/hate relationship with working outside the home. It is difficult to always be rushing out the door to go somewhere with a toddler. It's hard to juggle all of the household responsibilities that have to be taken care of when you just feel like crashing when you've been on your feet all day. It sucks that I can't go to a mom's group or even have coffee with a friend and their kids once in a while. It makes my life pretty lonely.
However, days like today make me grateful that I have a job outside the home. A place I can just be me and have conversations with adults about things other than the best way to get your child to eat veggies or how to handle tantrums. I can watch people outside and feel like I'm a part of the world. I can miss my child once in a while and feel proud when I get to take my little paycheck to the bank. I would never be able to mentally handle a 5-day-a-week job while having children at home. I would even go so far as to say that I don't think it's responsible parenting (cringe...yeah, I just said that.) I'm realizing that a little time away from the home, to earn a little money or just to pursue hobbies (if you don't need the money) is good for a mama's soul.
However, days like today make me grateful that I have a job outside the home. A place I can just be me and have conversations with adults about things other than the best way to get your child to eat veggies or how to handle tantrums. I can watch people outside and feel like I'm a part of the world. I can miss my child once in a while and feel proud when I get to take my little paycheck to the bank. I would never be able to mentally handle a 5-day-a-week job while having children at home. I would even go so far as to say that I don't think it's responsible parenting (cringe...yeah, I just said that.) I'm realizing that a little time away from the home, to earn a little money or just to pursue hobbies (if you don't need the money) is good for a mama's soul.
Monday, April 6, 2009
Selfish Mother Blow-Dries Her Hair While Son Impales Himself With Thermometer
OK, this didn't actually happen to me. But these are dead-seriously the headlines I come up with in my head when I have to take a shower or blow-dry my hair (things that make it impossible to keep tabs on my Curious George of a son.) Whenever I turn the water or blow-dryer off, I immediately expect to hear wailing in the background and find Soren on the ground with some serious injury I'll have to explain to CPS.
Right now Karl is out of town, so that makes getting ready for work in the morning even crazier than it usually is for us. I usually plan my showers for times when Soren is asleep or supervised by his Papa. I didn't have that option this morning, so I did the best I could. I put up safety gates and tried to put everything remotely dangerous out of reach - something that's getting increasingly harder to do these days (this kid is growing faster than I can keep up!) Still, he finds things that I would never see. Just the other day he saw and grabbed a pair of scissors before my mom could keep him from giving himself a little trim. Lovely.
Anyway, I guess the point of my post is to ask how you other moms do it. How do you get out of the house, or go to work looking somewhat classy without constantly running from your mirror when you hear silence (yes - that's when you know something's up)? For those of you who have sweet little girls who will obediently sit on the toilet watching you apply eyeliner with awe in their eyes - I don't want to hear from you. Haha (but seriously.) I'm talking a good 1.5 hours of taking a shower, doing your hair, getting dressed and applying make-up. What is your secret???
Right now Karl is out of town, so that makes getting ready for work in the morning even crazier than it usually is for us. I usually plan my showers for times when Soren is asleep or supervised by his Papa. I didn't have that option this morning, so I did the best I could. I put up safety gates and tried to put everything remotely dangerous out of reach - something that's getting increasingly harder to do these days (this kid is growing faster than I can keep up!) Still, he finds things that I would never see. Just the other day he saw and grabbed a pair of scissors before my mom could keep him from giving himself a little trim. Lovely.
Anyway, I guess the point of my post is to ask how you other moms do it. How do you get out of the house, or go to work looking somewhat classy without constantly running from your mirror when you hear silence (yes - that's when you know something's up)? For those of you who have sweet little girls who will obediently sit on the toilet watching you apply eyeliner with awe in their eyes - I don't want to hear from you. Haha (but seriously.) I'm talking a good 1.5 hours of taking a shower, doing your hair, getting dressed and applying make-up. What is your secret???
Thursday, April 2, 2009
Halfway There
I am 22 weeks pregnant, over half-way to my due date, and I realize that I haven't mentioned much about this baby. I'm ok with that (just so you know) but my friends are starting to forget that I'm pregnant, so I figured maybe it's high-time for an update.
Pregnancy is not my most favorite thing in the world. Some women just eat it up, but it's not like that for me. Sure, I think I will look back at this time in my life with fondness (couldn't think of a better word) and I will miss some aspects of it. There is something special about building a new little life inside of your body, and it's for such a small amount of time (unless you're the Duggars) during your life. Still, my body just wasn't made for this type of work. I know, that doesn't make any sense, but it's the only way I can reconcile the fact that some women feel great when they're pregnant, and I don't.
I am currently in the best stage of pregnancy - the 2nd trimester. Right now hormones are actually working in my favor, my belly is not so big that I can't hike up a leg on a counter top (yes, I do this sometimes when putting make-up on) and I can still sleep at night without recruiting the help of 4 pillows. Oh, but look out 3rd trimester - when grabbing something that fell on the car floor is just something I remember once being able to do and when my poor husband literally gets kicked out of the queen size bed. A time when my belly is taking up so much real estate that everyone feels some sense of ownership over it, therefore finding it perfectly acceptable to touch, rub or pat it whenever they get the urge. A time when the skin on my belly is screaming for relief (and ripping) from the tension. A time when creativity takes on a whole new meaning 'in the bedroom'. Not a time for the weak of spirit, that's for sure. Now I have little nightmares about getting through that "whale" of a trimester while chasing a very speedy little toddler as he endlessly runs in the opposite direction of me. Heaven help us!
My pregnancy has been pretty uneventful so far. I call the midwives so much less this time than I did when I was pregnant with Soren. I'm a lot less stressed about eating all the right things and staying away from soft cheeses and deli turkey. I don't freak out during my painful "round ligament pain" sessions - I just wait them out on the couch, for hours. Ok - I admit - my prenatals have gone a few days without being touched too. Priorities change a bit with the second, they do.
This little girl is moving...a lot...at night. Sometimes I think about how cute it is that I am her mama and she only knows about being inside of me. She is used to the rythm of my walk and my voice and my anything-but-bland food preferences. She gets kicked quite a bit by Soren as I'm trying to dress him - it's a good foretaste of what's to be the first several years of her life. Although I'm still coming to grips with the fact that she is coming at the worst possible time of our life (according to us), I'm feeling twinges of excitement at the thought of seeing her face in 4 months. It may not sound like much, but it is.
Pregnancy is not my most favorite thing in the world. Some women just eat it up, but it's not like that for me. Sure, I think I will look back at this time in my life with fondness (couldn't think of a better word) and I will miss some aspects of it. There is something special about building a new little life inside of your body, and it's for such a small amount of time (unless you're the Duggars) during your life. Still, my body just wasn't made for this type of work. I know, that doesn't make any sense, but it's the only way I can reconcile the fact that some women feel great when they're pregnant, and I don't.
I am currently in the best stage of pregnancy - the 2nd trimester. Right now hormones are actually working in my favor, my belly is not so big that I can't hike up a leg on a counter top (yes, I do this sometimes when putting make-up on) and I can still sleep at night without recruiting the help of 4 pillows. Oh, but look out 3rd trimester - when grabbing something that fell on the car floor is just something I remember once being able to do and when my poor husband literally gets kicked out of the queen size bed. A time when my belly is taking up so much real estate that everyone feels some sense of ownership over it, therefore finding it perfectly acceptable to touch, rub or pat it whenever they get the urge. A time when the skin on my belly is screaming for relief (and ripping) from the tension. A time when creativity takes on a whole new meaning 'in the bedroom'. Not a time for the weak of spirit, that's for sure. Now I have little nightmares about getting through that "whale" of a trimester while chasing a very speedy little toddler as he endlessly runs in the opposite direction of me. Heaven help us!
My pregnancy has been pretty uneventful so far. I call the midwives so much less this time than I did when I was pregnant with Soren. I'm a lot less stressed about eating all the right things and staying away from soft cheeses and deli turkey. I don't freak out during my painful "round ligament pain" sessions - I just wait them out on the couch, for hours. Ok - I admit - my prenatals have gone a few days without being touched too. Priorities change a bit with the second, they do.
This little girl is moving...a lot...at night. Sometimes I think about how cute it is that I am her mama and she only knows about being inside of me. She is used to the rythm of my walk and my voice and my anything-but-bland food preferences. She gets kicked quite a bit by Soren as I'm trying to dress him - it's a good foretaste of what's to be the first several years of her life. Although I'm still coming to grips with the fact that she is coming at the worst possible time of our life (according to us), I'm feeling twinges of excitement at the thought of seeing her face in 4 months. It may not sound like much, but it is.
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