Duped.

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During my weekend visit to see one of my dearest friends from high school, I learned something SHOCKING.  We had put the kids to bed, and we were sitting in her living room with glasses of wine catching up and talking about life. The conversation eventally turned to childbirth. We discussed natural, medication-free childbirth (she is against it); I pointed out that I was in so much pain the first time around that I feel like I might as well have done it sans epidureal.

She put her glass down. She looked me in the eye. She had something to tell me.

You see, she works in the medical field. She knows things. And apparently, the reason why I was in so much pain when I birthed my son is because …

They turned off my epidureal.

This is when I shrieked “WHAT!!” at the top of my lungs, and probably woke up all three of the sleeping babies.

“WHY?” I asked. “Are they crazy!?? What the F?” And then, more shrieking.

She explained that –apparently — when you’ve told the doctor you would rather not have a C-section, and you’ve had a long labor and it’s apparent that you’re not progressing like you should, the nurse quietly slips her arm over your head and shuts off the epidureal like some sort of medical ninja. They don’t tell you what they’re doing, because then you would freak out.

They do it so you can push more effectively. I get this, and I guess I’m fine with it, but I have been wondering for two years now why I had such a PAINFUL experience and my other epidureal friends didn’t.

I feel validated, I feel conned, I feel like I did something crazy (birthed a baby) without being numbed. It’s quite a lot to process.

Crazy.

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Today I am pondering modern motherhood. It’s come to my attention that not many women, especially women who have children, are able to function without some sort of medication. Is it because we live in such a high-stress society? Do we expect too much of ourselves? Or is it simply that us women are inherently crazy, have probably always needed medication, and just didn’t have access to it until recently?


I often think that I was born in the wrong century, and I often long for a simpler life. I’m a hard worker, and I think I would have done well in a time where bread was made from scratch and the cows had to be milked. But, I do enjoy my air-conditioning — and I’m vain to a fault — so maybe I would have just bitched the whole time about my “simple” life instead.


I like to think not, but I’m a realist. And possibly crazy.

The Foam Pit of Death.

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Yesterday one my favorite little people had her 4th birthday party at a gymnastics place. There were springy mats and big things to climb over and it was basically kiddo heaven.
My little boy had SO much fun running around and all was well until (dun dun dun) … the party moved to the ginormous foam pit.
Theoretically, this should have been the most fun part of the day. In fact, I’m pretty sure it was for everyone except for me. I’m one of those people who could never get on and off of a horse gracefully, or a Seadoo for that matter. It seems like in both cases (horse and Seadoo) the thing I was trying to climb on top of would keep moving around and I would just slide right off.

I could never do a cartwheel, I have trouble hopping up onto anything without looking like a struggling beetle. I’m simply not graceful. However, for some reason when I saw my son looking up at me from the foam pit with this worried look on his face, I didn’t think about my clumsiness.

I jumped in to “save” him. Here is what THAT looked like.

And then, of course, I couldn’t get out. The more I struggled, the deeper I sank. It felt a little too quicksand-ish for my comfort. 

To make matters worse, there was a gaggle of adults standing around giggling at me. I am still mad at Husband, who stood on the other side of the pit and refused to walk around to my side and help pull me out. The GRANDFATHER of the birthday girl, bless his heart, was the only one who tried to help, but he eventually gave up and left me to my doom.
 

 AM I THE ONLY IDIOT WHO HAS THIS KIND OF CRAP HAPPEN TO HER?!

Really?

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So in the 8 weeks that have passed since I started exercising regularly, I have actually gained weight. Why does my body do this to me?! It seems like when I actually start trying to take care of my body, it rewards me by getting fatter. That is no way to say thanks.

I’m plotting my revenge. Just you wait and see who has the last laugh.

Proof …

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… that we went somewhere.

Last night Husband and I watched fireworks together for the first time ever. We started up our “thing” exactly seven years ago, and since then THIRTEEN different holidays involving fireworks have passed us by. Why?? I don’t know. I think we’re lazy when it comes to following normal traditions.

Not this year, by gum. Now we have the Toddler and it’s imperative that we start traditions. We want him to experience the world beyond daycare and our living room.

I insisted that we take a few pictures to prove that we got out of the house after 7:00 p.m. Sadly, it’s a rare occasion.

Toddler was up WAY past his bedtime but there were no tantrums. He stared at the fireworks in (calm) awe. I, on the other hand, was tickled beyond belief to be in downtown Homewood at night. That hasn’t happened in years.

When I see that in writing it’s really quite embarrassing.

For the past year or two we have relegated ourselves to a happy life of Netflix and frozen pizzas, but I think we’re ready to come out of our domestic cave.

Madness.

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Stay tuned … my first column should post on http://www.birminghammommy.com in the very near future! I’m going to discuss the daily struggle of balancing work, family, and maintaining a sense of self (and sanity).

Can modern women really have it ALL, without medication?

I’m still deciding.

I’m an ATHLETE!

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CAN IT BE?!?!?

I did it! I ran a 5k!

I ran (well … jogged) the entire time, and I finished in 37 minutes. I didn’t set out to break any speed records. My goals were to complete said race without:

1. Fainting
2. Walking
3. Throwing up
4. Running into anyone

It was 80 degrees and overcast at 8:00 a.m. and we were all thankful that the sun wasn’t out. I don’t know if I would have made it with the sun beating down on me. Actually, around mile two I was cussing myself for agreeing to do this in the first place and swore that I would never do this to myself again, but as soon as I saw the finish line it was totally worth it! I sped up and ran as fast as I could and I was so happy that Husband and Toddler were there to cheer me on.

Here I am with the Toddler, pre-race. He was a good sport about the whole thing.

I had partners to keep me accountable or I never would have made it through this process.

Here we are! Athletes! From left to right: Anna, me, and Courtney. I tilted my body so I would look skinnier, as they are both smaller and speedier than I. Anna finished in 31 minutes and Courtney came in around 33. We still don’t have official results yet.

 I think I’m HOOKED! The feeling you have when you set a goal and accomplish something physical that you didn’t think you could do is indescribable.

 And, here I am post-race struggling not to throw up. We took a lap around the block to cool down and I felt better after that.

I plan to continue bragging about this accomplishment for the rest of the week. Maybe next time, Husband will run with me?! I have witnessed him run recreationally (meaning, for a reason other than something was on fire or he was hurrying me to Labor & Delivery) exactly TWO times since we met 7 years ago. As you can see, I have my work cut out for me. Keep your fingers crossed!