Unless you've been living under a rock or have a life that doesn't involve celebrity nonsense you probably know that "actress" Jessica Alba recently had a baby. I say "actress" because she's not so much an actress as a celebrity. I suppose that's neither here nor there. Anyway, two weeks ago she gave birth to her second baby. Today she was pictured out and about with her toddler daughter looking very fine indeed. In fact, if the article hadn't said so there would be no indication from looking at her that she just had a child. The article goes on to say that although she did "continue with her workouts while pregnant, [she] also gives a lot of credit to Grandma." She chalks up good genetics to her enviable post-baby body.
This pisses me off on so many levels. I did a little searching and feel comfortable saying the for most women it takes six to twelve months for their body to return to "normal" after giving birth. Some women may get into pre-pregnancy clothes a little sooner and some may take a little longer but I think that seems like a reasonable amount of time. I get so upset any time I see celebrities touting "good genes" for the rapid baby weight loss. I know this is ground that has been covered in many other forums but I think it bears revisiting. The changes that happen to your body are HARD. Yes, your body has done something amazing. Yes, you adore your new baby, but that doesn't negate that your body doesn't look the same, and in a culture that places a high premium on an idealize and often unattainable figure that can make for some bleak moments for an average woman. And sure, you might know intellectually that it's unreasonable to think that your skinny jeans will fit three weeks post-baby but emotions don't always function rationally.
Maybe I'm being hard on Jessica Alba. Some women do have really good genes and do lose baby weight quickly. That's not their fault and they shouldn't be punished or judged for that. But it seems unrealistic to think that every celebrity that claims "good genes" really has good genes instead of an eating disorder. I also think focusing on celebrity's (perhaps unhealthy) post-baby weight loss sets the stage for all kinds of mommy competition. First, the baby weight, then milestones with our kids, how "perfect" our families are, what schools our kids go to. It's terrible and so unhealthy. Frankly, it also flies in face of my feminist values. Women should be supporting each other instead of competing and viewing each other as adversaries to be bested.
What do you think? Am I overreacting?
Saturday, August 27, 2011
Friday, August 26, 2011
BLARGH
This has not been one of my more fun weeks. Last week, Bear started nursery school. I will pause here for an aside. The school situation is out. Of. Control. We moved to our town last year when Bear was 15 months. People immediately started asking us where we were going to send him to elementary school. Wha...? Uh, he can barely walk. I'm thinking about when he can reliably cross the room on two feet, not where he's going to go to kindergarten. People told us that if we wanted to get into the good charter school we needed to send in enrollment paperwork immediately, since most people start the enrollment process when their kids are a few weeks old. A FEW WEEKS OLD. Do they not realize that we live in a suburb of Denver? This isn't New York City or Los Angeles, where crazy women who hate themselves force their kids into doing things so they can compete with other crazy moms.
Ahem. Sorry for that. Anyway, Bear started nursery school. Yeah, two-years-old is pretty young. I think it will indicate something about two-year-old boys when I tell you that all ten kids in his class are boys. It's just a couple hours three times a week. The teachers are really nice, they teach a little bit of basic stuff: colors, shapes, letters and numbers, most of which Bear already knows. The other focus is on teaching them how to participate in adult led activities. I've noticed since he started that he's been having a measurably more difficult time handling frustration and, literally, ANY separation from me. If he could, I think he would be physically touching me at all times. I'm not sure how much is his age and how much is starting school. I really like the teachers and I like the teaching philosophy but if things don't getter better I'm afraid my only choice will be to withdraw him. He's not used to being apart from me so much and I'm wondering if this is too much for him at two.
The other things we've been dealing with is Bunny being extremely fussy. Since a few weeks old, she's spent a lot of time crying and not sleeping. Nursing has been problematic and, at times, discouraging. I chalked it up to simple colic and figured she would outgrow it and we'd just have to slog through the next few months. On Wednesday we went in for her well-baby exam and mentioned the fussiness. The NP told us that she thought that Bunny might have reflux. She gave us a prescription for Zantac and since we started giving it to Bunny we've noticed a big difference. She's sleeping and eating better and much less fussy. It's a big relief, but I still think I need a beer.
Ahem. Sorry for that. Anyway, Bear started nursery school. Yeah, two-years-old is pretty young. I think it will indicate something about two-year-old boys when I tell you that all ten kids in his class are boys. It's just a couple hours three times a week. The teachers are really nice, they teach a little bit of basic stuff: colors, shapes, letters and numbers, most of which Bear already knows. The other focus is on teaching them how to participate in adult led activities. I've noticed since he started that he's been having a measurably more difficult time handling frustration and, literally, ANY separation from me. If he could, I think he would be physically touching me at all times. I'm not sure how much is his age and how much is starting school. I really like the teachers and I like the teaching philosophy but if things don't getter better I'm afraid my only choice will be to withdraw him. He's not used to being apart from me so much and I'm wondering if this is too much for him at two.
The other things we've been dealing with is Bunny being extremely fussy. Since a few weeks old, she's spent a lot of time crying and not sleeping. Nursing has been problematic and, at times, discouraging. I chalked it up to simple colic and figured she would outgrow it and we'd just have to slog through the next few months. On Wednesday we went in for her well-baby exam and mentioned the fussiness. The NP told us that she thought that Bunny might have reflux. She gave us a prescription for Zantac and since we started giving it to Bunny we've noticed a big difference. She's sleeping and eating better and much less fussy. It's a big relief, but I still think I need a beer.
Thursday, August 25, 2011
Who doesn't love a list?
THINGS THAT ARE MORE FUN THAN A GROUCHY TWO-YEAR-OLD
* Minor dental surgery without anesthesia
* A sunburn
* Food going down the wrong pipe
* Cleaning a littlebox
* Any kind of news coverage on Kim Kardashian
* Sitting next to a snorer with personal space issues on a flight from Denver to Kansas City
* The grammatically incorrect expression: "I could care less"
* Burning your mouth on coffee
* Being forced to wait an extra 45 minutes in your doctor's waiting room
* Cold McDonald's french fries
THINGS THAT ARE LESS FUN THAN A GROUCHY TWO-YEAR-OLD
* Listening to Ann Coulter
* A papercut
* News coverage on any of the "Real Housewives"
* People that braggingly declare, "Haven't read a single book since high school!"
* Being told while pregnant, "You look like you're about to pop!" Seriously, pregnant women HATE this.
* Political emails
* Cleaning up barf
* Progressive insurance commercials
* Being stuck in traffic on I-25 when it's not rush hour
* Being around drunk people when you are sober
* Minor dental surgery without anesthesia
* A sunburn
* Food going down the wrong pipe
* Cleaning a littlebox
* Any kind of news coverage on Kim Kardashian
* Sitting next to a snorer with personal space issues on a flight from Denver to Kansas City
* The grammatically incorrect expression: "I could care less"
* Burning your mouth on coffee
* Being forced to wait an extra 45 minutes in your doctor's waiting room
* Cold McDonald's french fries
THINGS THAT ARE LESS FUN THAN A GROUCHY TWO-YEAR-OLD
* Listening to Ann Coulter
* A papercut
* News coverage on any of the "Real Housewives"
* People that braggingly declare, "Haven't read a single book since high school!"
* Being told while pregnant, "You look like you're about to pop!" Seriously, pregnant women HATE this.
* Political emails
* Cleaning up barf
* Progressive insurance commercials
* Being stuck in traffic on I-25 when it's not rush hour
* Being around drunk people when you are sober
Monday, August 22, 2011
Welcome to your life. You might be an asshole.
Sometimes things irritate me. Kidding! ALWAYS things irritate me. Apparently I'm a very testy person. But currently one thing is winning in the war to piss me off.
See, I've been following the famine in the Horn of Africa along with 38 other Americans. It breaks my heart to see the pictures of the starving babies and hear stories about people dying on the months-long trek to refugee camps only to continue to face dire circumstances thanks to warloads that threaten death to anyone attempting to deliver food and water. It gives me perspective on my life and my problems. It also amps up my frustration. As it turns out my tolerance for people complaining about their First World problems is at an all-time low. One thing provokes my ire above all others though.
Coffee.
Seeing, hearing or reading about someone complaining about their goddamn coffee in anyway way, shape or form infuriates me. Here's a reality check: IT IS COFFEE. In a lot of cases it's coffee that, when adjusted for volume, costs more than a gallon of gas. How selfish, spoiled and entitled are you to bitch about something so inconsequential? Here's another reality check: YOU ARE LUCKY TO HAVE THIS PROBLEM. Do you realize this? Do you realize that there are roughly a billion people in the world that don't have enough to eat? Don't have clean water? Are dying of malaria?
There are problems that are distinctly First World that are still tragic and life changing. There are things that are minor inconveniences that merit annoyance. But you know, every single thing that causes you discomfort doesn't require expression. Get a little perspective. Ditch the annoyance and appreciate the good things in your life and mourn the things that are legitimately sad or upsetting. Stop taking things for granting.
And seriously, get a grip on the fucking coffee.
See, I've been following the famine in the Horn of Africa along with 38 other Americans. It breaks my heart to see the pictures of the starving babies and hear stories about people dying on the months-long trek to refugee camps only to continue to face dire circumstances thanks to warloads that threaten death to anyone attempting to deliver food and water. It gives me perspective on my life and my problems. It also amps up my frustration. As it turns out my tolerance for people complaining about their First World problems is at an all-time low. One thing provokes my ire above all others though.
Coffee.
Seeing, hearing or reading about someone complaining about their goddamn coffee in anyway way, shape or form infuriates me. Here's a reality check: IT IS COFFEE. In a lot of cases it's coffee that, when adjusted for volume, costs more than a gallon of gas. How selfish, spoiled and entitled are you to bitch about something so inconsequential? Here's another reality check: YOU ARE LUCKY TO HAVE THIS PROBLEM. Do you realize this? Do you realize that there are roughly a billion people in the world that don't have enough to eat? Don't have clean water? Are dying of malaria?
There are problems that are distinctly First World that are still tragic and life changing. There are things that are minor inconveniences that merit annoyance. But you know, every single thing that causes you discomfort doesn't require expression. Get a little perspective. Ditch the annoyance and appreciate the good things in your life and mourn the things that are legitimately sad or upsetting. Stop taking things for granting.
And seriously, get a grip on the fucking coffee.
Sunday, August 21, 2011
Where to begin
I really, really want to be a reliable blogger. Good, now that my regular apology for infrequent posting is out of the way...
So much has been happening in our household. We added to our little family. Bunny, as she shall be known in these pages, was born on April 15 at 6:02 PM. She weighed 6 lbs, 13 oz and totally perfect. Labor was easy and uncomplicated. Twenty-eight hours in total, two of them hard, two pushes and no epidural. By the way I love sharing my story and am happy to do so. I promise that I won't scare you or otherwise make you feel like you need a dose of Xanax. I also won't share the story on here unless I get an overwhelming readership request. Not everyone wants to read a birth story.
I realize that this isn't my most insightful observation but two things: first, WOW every kid is different. Yay for something every parent says. But it's true, which leads me to my next observation which is also a cliche: God lets you forget. You forget the frustration and sleep deprivation and the constant worry about whether or not you're doing things right. Some things stay the same, namely, will you ever lose the baby weight so your ass can fit into your really cute jeans again.
Expanding on the subject of jeans and asses, losing the baby weight seems more difficult this time around although it's quite possible I just blocked it from when I had Bear (as he will henceforth be known). I have some advice on that: buy a few things that make you feel great. Trust me, my experience tells me that staying in elastic waistband pants and your husband's old t-shirts will mostly make you feel worse. But for Heaven's sake, don't buy TOO much stuff. You don't want to get too comfortable and feel too stylish or you won't ever get back to you pre-baby weight. That's fine, of course, if that's what you want to do. (Seriously, no judgement. My hat's off to you.)
Wow, that was easier then I thought. I felt bad about not posting and so I didn't which just made it worse. Guilt over something you don't have to do. Biggest waste of a feeling ever.
So much has been happening in our household. We added to our little family. Bunny, as she shall be known in these pages, was born on April 15 at 6:02 PM. She weighed 6 lbs, 13 oz and totally perfect. Labor was easy and uncomplicated. Twenty-eight hours in total, two of them hard, two pushes and no epidural. By the way I love sharing my story and am happy to do so. I promise that I won't scare you or otherwise make you feel like you need a dose of Xanax. I also won't share the story on here unless I get an overwhelming readership request. Not everyone wants to read a birth story.
I realize that this isn't my most insightful observation but two things: first, WOW every kid is different. Yay for something every parent says. But it's true, which leads me to my next observation which is also a cliche: God lets you forget. You forget the frustration and sleep deprivation and the constant worry about whether or not you're doing things right. Some things stay the same, namely, will you ever lose the baby weight so your ass can fit into your really cute jeans again.
Expanding on the subject of jeans and asses, losing the baby weight seems more difficult this time around although it's quite possible I just blocked it from when I had Bear (as he will henceforth be known). I have some advice on that: buy a few things that make you feel great. Trust me, my experience tells me that staying in elastic waistband pants and your husband's old t-shirts will mostly make you feel worse. But for Heaven's sake, don't buy TOO much stuff. You don't want to get too comfortable and feel too stylish or you won't ever get back to you pre-baby weight. That's fine, of course, if that's what you want to do. (Seriously, no judgement. My hat's off to you.)
Wow, that was easier then I thought. I felt bad about not posting and so I didn't which just made it worse. Guilt over something you don't have to do. Biggest waste of a feeling ever.
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