journeys of an everyday joy seeker

6 Things Every Parent of a Middle Schooler Should Know

2017-01-14T14:34:00.000-05:00

Gone are the days of cubbies, show and tell, and class holiday parties. You now have a middle schooler. As a parent it is sometimes difficult to navigate the ins and outs of your child’s education, especially as they get into middle and high school. Not only is it difficult for you to keep track of your child’s many teachers, but it’s difficult for those teachers to constantly keep in touch with over 130 students’ parents. Middle school teachers weigh in and tell you some ways to help you tread these new, and sometime treacherous, waters!

Organize. Create an organizational system that works for your child. While some kids can manage a binder, others find it exhausting to open all three of those prongs to place their papers inside. With your child, talk about organizational options and let them choose which would be best. After you’ve invested time and money into this organizational strategy, sit with them often to re-organize until they get the hang of it.

Planners/Agendas! Some schools give each child an agenda or planner, but if they don’t, get your child one. If tablets or laptops are used in school and your child is more tech savvy, find a great app to keep them organized. If not, help your child find a planner they like. Yes, let them pick one out. The more ownership they have over this, the more likely they are to use it. Some kids like to have a variety of pens and stickers as well. Trust me, get them the pens if it motivates them to use the planner. Have them write in their extracurricular activities and appointments as well.

Grades. Most schools have a Parent Portal system that updates a student’s grade as the teacher updates their grade book. You can often see what assignments your child is missing as well as the grade they earned on each assignment and test. Check bi-weekly and a few days after every major test and quiz. If possible, it's great if your child is able to access their grades online as well. They need to keep up with it more than you do and seeing how each assignment impacts their overall grade is important!

Struggling Students. If your child has any sort of special need (ADD, ADHD, meds, personality tics, dyslexia, home issues, etc.) schedule a conference with your child’s teachers a few weeks AFTER school has started and fill them in on the situation. There are also resource classes available for struggling students, but parents may need to specifically ask for testing. Your child may also qualify for a 504, which isn’t a special ed IEP, but rather a documented way to ensure that your child gets additional support for any diagnosed issue.

Consequences. Let your child suffer the consequences of failing to study for a test or failing to turn in an assignment. Middle Schoolers need to learn that success must be earned and it may take hard work. This isn’t peewee soccer, no one gets a medal for just for showing up. If you run to the school and start making demands at your child’s teacher, you’re only teaching them that mama/daddy will bail them out when they make a mistake or life doesn’t go their way.
Monitor Social Media/Electronics. The social aspects of middle school are rough, to say the least. Middle school students are experiencing a new social world and bullying is common at this age. Whether your student is doing the bullying or the one being picked on, you need to know (and you need to deal with it). With student suicide rates at all all time high, be proactive in finding out what is happening with your child socially. There are a number of apps that can monitor your child’s electronics. Additionally, electronics are the number one reason why middle schoolers aren’t sleeping enough at night. Set a time when they turn off or turn in their electronics for the evening. Studies show that at least an hour before bedtime is best.

Bonus #7! (Yep, we do bonuses here!) Buy more pencils. Your child is likely switching classes often and losing pencils along the way. Many teachers report giving away 500+ pencils each semester. Help a teacher out and snag some more pencils when they’re on sale in August!

Weigh In! Leave a comment with your best advice to parents of middle school kids!

#middleschool #parentadvice #teaching

Where $5 Can REALLY Make You Holler

2013-06-07T13:36:00.002-04:00

Due to the great recession, shopping at the local thrift store has become an increasingly popular hobby amongst middle class ladies. While the wealthy women discuss saving Africa as they receive their daily keratin hair treatment and the poor loaf around the mall with their Obama phones pokin’ outta their bras, the middle class women of America are fighting the effects of governmental budgetary incompetence with “vintage” apparel, internet dating, and satisfying their material needs with pinterest dreams.

Thrifting takes a certain amount of skill, which most middle class women have previously obtained from their versatile, liberal arts education. Liberal Arts graduates have more than just extensive student loans. They have also obtained analytical skills and problem solving abilities, as well as interpersonal skills and the ability to communicate effectively.

“How can I turn this porcelain clown bust in to a fantastic dining room light fixture? …I’m like totally gonna instagram and share this spray painted ceramic bunny bookend I made to see how many repins I get by the end of the day!”

That degree may not land you a job, but you can write a killer eharmony profile and you can work those pre-worn designers long enough to get unlimited Olive Garden breadsticks and, if you’re lucky, some Waffle House! Work it, guurl!

Walking in to a disorderly thrift store abruptly triggers the left side of my brain and I want to begin straightening things like some sort of thrift store Rain Man. Self control then triggers the awesome side of my brain and I begin a creative treasure hunt.“OoOh! I could totally turn this portable urinal in to a fantastic gravy boat!”

It’s so overwhelming that I typically start to pace the tchotchke section quickly in fear that some geriatric will snatch up something amazing… like a plated brass cat… or a device that can be fashioned in to a cake stand and covered in chalk board paint.

Thrifting through clothing requires a completely different set of skills. It’s a lot like dating. I have to consider previous owners, stains, things that don’t fit properly, and, of course, venereal diseases. It can be a little frustrating at times, because the option doesn’t come in a different size or color. It is an “as is”, take it or leave it, their mother should’ve stopped nursing them sooner kind of thing. Then, usually on a day of weakness, I find an item whose smell has a tolerable mixture of dust and urine and I settle.

Once while combing the racks I found a great blazer. It wasn’t an amazing brand, but it looked okay and had a 401K. I thought, “This blazer will totally increase my economic status,” so I brought it home and hung in it my closet. I wore it out a few times and my friends were all, “Oh my god, I love that blazer! Where can I find a blazer like that? ” And I was all, “You can’t. [smug smile] I assaulted a geriatric to get this blazer.” Shortly thereafter, the blazer became too habitual, too comfortable and, worse of all, it started to feel a little tight. Fraudulent love will make you fat.

Finding someone on the internet that will be your thrift store side kick but have enough money to support an occasional keratin hair treatment and a smart phone to stick in your bra is an excellent option for finding true happiness when the country is going to shit…someone that will pay those liberal arts education student loans and also support you when you decide to go to massage therapy school…someone that doesn’t smell like dust and urine. So set those standards high, middle class ladies, and next time vote republican.

Internet Dating

2013-02-25T20:14:00.000-05:00

I will admit, I’ve experienced a moment of insanity. For a brief three-month stint, I partook in the world of internet dating. After strategically developing my profile and specifically itemizing my list of mate qualifications (see below), eHarmony not so tenderly informed me, “There are currently no matches at this time.”

After claiming that thousands of interesting singles were members of their site, I was unmatchable. “Wow, I must be really special or incredibly unattractive,” I thought. Then the browser refreshed and 1437 matches were found within a 60 mile radius. I came to the harsh realization that I was not only indistinctive, but that I could be easily paired with Farmer Jon MacDonald, Sir Steroids with a profile of nudity (not complaining!), Dr. Potent Divorcee with children my age, Homey G complete with shades and zuit suit, and let’s not forget Spock. Spock wasn’t an option as I was jealous of his eyebrows. I had a diverse buffet bar of selections; I knew I’d need an assistant!

I believe that anyone that puts themselves on the internet, be it blog, linked in, facebook, or a forum comment, is deserving of criticism, myself included. That said, my lovely assistant (my mom) and I spent several evenings enjoying wine and eharmony, while my father scolded us on how horrible we were. The immediate deletion of any potential lover was determined by the following characteristics (in order of importance):

1.       Looks. One picture containing a dead animal or the portrayal of arrogance could mean deletion.
2.       Height. A deal breaker if shorter than 6ft. Not a deal breaker if they were shorter than 4’10”. I always did have a thing for Doc, Dopey, and Danny DeVito.
3.       Career. Dancers, tree frog breeders, and clowns need not apply.

If a profile made it through the first round, then we’d actually read the profile. Then, with the use of a handy dandy mate qualifications list and a complicated points system, we narrowed down the search…

Extensive Mate Qualification List

1. Taller than a mail box and thinner than an Escalade.

2. The man, as well as any offspring, must not resemble feral hogs, Jonbenet Ramsey, or any character from the movie The Dark Crystal.

3. Their profile does not claim that their BFF is Jesus or that their favorite book is a Linux programming guide.

4. Less dim-witted than the average politician, more dim-witted that Christopher Langan, and preferably more knowledgeable than me in the areas of mechanics, sports, and finances.

5. They look, act, sound, and feel like a man. Toolboxes, golf clubs, and baseball hats are sexier than many other accessories, even shell necklaces.

…when it was all said and done, I concluded that eharmony’s initial evaluation was correct: there are no matches at this time.

Ten Relationships That Are Not Worth Your Time

2013-02-25T19:09:00.000-05:00

Ten Types of Relationships that are Not Worth Your Time

1.       The Tumultuous Relationship: Guys that break up with girls due to other potential flings don’t really like you. The truth is, they just don’t like being lonely. Get them a puppy and move on.

2.       The Silent Treatment:Text messages and other various forms of communication go unanswered for days. In a world of social media and iphones, if a guy really wants you he also wants to chat with you. Don't be that girl. Create an amazing new contact name for him, like "The Mute" or "Bashful".

3.       The Jane Doe: When your identification in his phone is covert, he might as well refer to you as booty call #1137. The same goes for a guy that has no intention of revealing your casual or blossoming relationship to his friends. If he doesn’t look at you and say to his friends, “Yeah, that’s her” then you might as well call him Short and Stumpy #666 and use him as back up when your battery dies.

4.       The Midnight Excursion: If the extent of a romantic evening with him consists of just an evening in, naked, with a potential trip to Ihop at midnight for nourishment, he’s probably not planning to take you to Sunday brunch with mom and dad the next morning. However, these nights can be especially exciting, just don’t get too attached and remember that “hanging out” and booty calls should never be ranked equally to dinner and a movie.

5.       The Guilt-Tripper: He doesn’t call. He doesn’t respond to text messages. He makes and breaks plans frequently and impersonally. Then, after you’ve determined that he’s been the victim of a natural disaster, he reappears and says, “Why are you so fickle? Don’t you like me anymore?”

6.       The relationship you are attempting to access is temporarily unavailable. The mention of any future plans involving anything from getting ice cream later to having 2.5 children and a golden retriever causes a temporary shutdown of all communication and sexual escapades. Remind him that you're only considering serious relationships with men that are actually good looking, interesting, funny, and with slightly more stamina than he can provide.

7.       The One Way Street: He calls you on every bad day to vent, but doesn’t reply when you need help in making an important life decision. Tip: Don’t make that life decision to accommodate this guy.

8.       The Cock Blocker: He doesn’t want a serious, committed relationship with you; the casual friends- with-benefits thing is working just fine. However, the very idea that you’d go on a date with someone that actually thinks you’re worth more than that of a blow up doll is out of the question and tends to prevent you from giving anyone else a chance. Trust me; this guy is crazy to think you’d be cool with this stagnant relationship forever.

9.       The Invisible Man: He likes to hang out with you one-on-one (literally), but disappears when the opportunity to meet your friends or accompany you to a wedding occurs. Let him disappear and see if the cute best man is available.

10.   The Blue Light Special: He makes you feel cheap. It doesn't matter how he does it. If he makes you feel cheap, remember that you're more of a Tiffany's kind of girl and go hang out at the coffee shop near the local med school.

Libya: Solving world problems one day at a time.

2013-02-25T18:58:00.002-05:00

Libya: Solving world problems one day at a time.

Unless you’ve been hiding within the narcissistic realm of social media, you’ve heard that Libya has followed Tunisia and Egypt in to the world of civil unrest. Copycats. Most Americans would shrug and reflect saying something profound like, “Yep, Libya. Is that nexta France? I once had a dog named Libby. Loved that dog.”

But according to Hardball with Chris Matthews, now is not the time to lounge around complaining about the cost of gas for your highly necessary diesel Hummer or yet another Skippy peanut butter recall; it is the time to put our humanitarian efforts on high blast and purchase a t-shirt demanding, “Save Libya”.

The United States has been contemplating which actions should be taken in dealing with the Quaddafi, the leader of Libya. Should Libyan rebels receive international support supplying them with ammunition, weapons, or humanitarian supplies? Should the US institute a No-Fly zone or place an embargo on Libyan oil exports? Should we call James Bond? All of these questions have evidently stumped the politians of Washington, the great thinkers of our country.

Never fear. There are several alternatives to brute force, armament, and higher oil prices that the brains of DC have overlooked.

Send in the Clowns

He has “a different constitution, a different brain, a different heart.” As he once proclaimed, “I got tiger blood.” He’s Charlie Sheen and he is tired of pretending he’s not special. He has a 100% success rate at everything except AA and rehab, but he’s a winner none the less. In Libya he can utilize his “big warlock brain” to devise a conquest plan and deliver the message to Quaddafi “with a sense of violent love.” Most importantly, he’s used to “dealing with fools and trolls and soft targets. It’s just strafing runs in my underwear before my first cup of coffee.” Ma Salama Charlie, take your dirty underwear and your tiger blood with you.

Crash Their Economy

The streets of Libya are crowded, loud, and cut throat; the bankers of Wall Street should feel right at home. Perhaps the collapse of the Libyan housing market, financial crisis, and poverty stricken citizens looking for cheap wheat and sugar would force Quaddafi to quit. Then they can build their fortune on the backs of the Libyans and give the Americans a break.

Exile the Underachievers

Save the children of the United States and send Libya the ineffective teachers that were unable to reverse the effects of poverty and years of bad parenting. In fact, give the teachers miniscule funds, no parent support, forty illiterate Libyan gang toddlers, and they’ll still teach them to speak English well enough to communicate with the monolingual, egocentric American people. Unfortunately, this is not on the standardized test, and, therefore, an epic failure.

At the very least, send in Lindsay Lohan. She can steal their oil.

Transportation in Modern Day Egypt

2013-02-25T18:53:00.001-05:00

When I was a child we had a junk drawer conveniently located between the fridge and the stove. Though it wasn't intended to be used as a junk drawer it still collected the odds and ends that didn't necessarily have a home. This drawer could at one time contain nails, birthday candles, buttons, batteries, ketchup packets, water balloons, inkless pens, and the nail clippers that could never actually be found when most needed. The Egyptian transportation system as a whole is this junk drawer.

Taxis, cars, buses, motorcycles, camels, and cats weave in and out at unsettling speeds with a possible pause for some brave soul jaunting across the street, playing Frogger. Taxi drivers slam on their brakes, honk, and try to hail the pedestrians hoping they can find some tourist to overcharge. BMWs, Jaguars, and Mercedes speed around condescendingly honking their horns and tailgating. The buses are overcrowded and have men hanging out the doors barely hitting the perched motorcyclists practically making love to their bikes as they swerve over bumps and past traffic jams. I've seen donkeys hauling around a flat trailer of fruit and toddlers coming within inches of being destroyed by impatient drivers. I've seen a body in the middle of a six lane highway, defended only by a line of people standing there trying to diverge the traffic from their hurting friend. I've seen cars driving the wrong way down the highway to avoid a roundabout. Overall, it’s like Allah threw up civilization all over the street.

In Egypt I experienced enough problems with the transportation system to want to return to the states forever. One afternoon I took a bus downtown, and in the time period of the bus ride I learned the intricate details of Helen's life story and she learned about mine, then we took a nap, woke up, developed a new language, sipped a cocktail, and invented the cotton gin, then we arrived at our destination.

In order to return to campus we called an Arabic speaking Jordinian to talk to the directionless cab driver we finally flagged down. Though better than the cabby that drove us in to the desert and demanded money or he'd leave me there, this creep drove us in circles blaring Arabic techno music and smoking. We finally made it back to the university, but only after we were charged twice what we should have been.

I have called bus companies, chased after busses, been left in the middle of a random street, stumbled upon a missing driver that was sleeping in the back seat, argued prices, and sat within a menagerie dusty Tchotchkies that decorated the bus like some sort of carnie explosion. The transportation of Egypt is a beautiful, cultural clusterfuck that never ceases to amaze. It’s like, "Mom, do you know where a rubber band is?" "Check the junk drawer. Is it there?" "No, but I found a green cheeto and the toe ring I lost when I was 7." There are no schedules, no plans, no backup system, no phone numbers, no stop lights, no road signs, and no rules. Did I mention I saw a cow inside a van and camels in the back of a pickup ready for slaughter? How about the taxis with 84 bags piled on top, secured with one piece of fishing line? It is just a big, crazy mess that one can attempt to clean up, but like a junk drawer will always show up again.

Hobby Lobby, it'll change yer life.

2012-10-05T19:49:00.001-04:00

We recently got a Hobby Lobby in Mt. Pleasant. I went on opening day and it was like every pinterest junky in the greater Charleston area was there getting their jollies off with glitter and modge podge sales. Everywhere I turned turned there seemed to be shrills of joy... Oh, wait. That was me.

I bought a few fall placemats made pillows! Later, I saw the same craft already on pinterest... Bitch stole my idea!

Yay! It's fall and time to decorate.

Are you up for the challenge?

2012-09-30T21:23:00.003-04:00

Okay, so last week was a trial run...a tease, if you will.

Or perhaps it was a test, one in which I failed miserably. But, like the school where I teach, there are no zeros or failing grades and I get as many redos as I need. holler! It's true. As a middle school teacher at a school that doesn't put zeros in the grade book, I get to teach that no matter how irresponsible we are, we don't have to suffer the repercussions, because life offers endless redos! Yay! That bottle of wine and the lazy days when I skipped the gym just don't count. They don't exist. Those days are erased from the gradebook of life and I get to relive those days over again. God added them on to the end of my lifetime. Yes, I think I will apply these groundbreaking teaching standards invented by politicians and people worried about retention rates to my everyday life. (The post on why America is eventually going to suck is in the works.)

Really though, it's time to get serious, Jamie, and throw away the chocolate cake... there's only half a piece left anyways. This week is the beginning of the Plank Challenge. (Read: The torturous hell of an embarrassing pose in which my butt sticks up too high in the air and my arms shake while I hold my breath.)

Here is the workout for all that are participating. Keep track of your Plank times and feel free to share. I could use a little friendly competition.

9 Monday	Zumba 5p & 7p PW Abs: 50 crunches, 50 bicycles 10 push ups “Sexy Leg Workout”	New Challenge- Old challenge will be alternated with regular workout. Plank Challenge Time the length of your plank and write it down!
10 Tuesday	Jog/Run: See how far you can go and the mileage/time. Alternate running as far as possible and brisk walking for 2-3 minutes. Run/Walk for at least 30 minutes 50 regular crunches/50 bicycle “Strong Arms Workout”	Plank Challenge
11 Wednesday	Spin 6P @ JD and 4:40P @ PW	Plank Challenge
12 Thursday	Jog/Run: See how far you can go and the mileage/time. Alternate running as far as possible and brisk walking for 2-3 minutes. Run/Walk for at least 30 minutes 50 regular crunches 50 bicycle crunches “Sexy Leg Work Out”	Plank Challenge
13 Friday	Any Cardio- At least 30 minutes Rest	Plank Challenge

270 Day Challenge Week One

2012-09-24T09:36:00.001-04:00

I ran* yesterday with my husband, my dog, and my baby. I also ran the day before on Saturday.
Oddly, I ran two miles on Saturday at a 10:30 pace before walking. On Sunday I ran .66 miles before walking. I'm becoming increasingly lame and its only day two. Worst of all, I didn't weight any less this morning after that daunting .66 of a mile. damn it.

* Ran: shuffling along at a 10:30 pace while panting like I'm still in labor.

This is the week's schedule for the 270 Day Challenge. My sister and I go to ESAC gym, so the classes refer to the gym's schedule. That means I have to go sweat with a bunch of skinny, spandex wearing bitches when I can't even run .67 miles. How depressing... I need a cookie.

Day

Cardio

Lifting

2 Monday	Spin (JD & PW @6p) (NC @ 8A & 5:30P) OR Body Pump (JD 7-8p) (NC 9:30A & 6:30p) AND Run/Walk 15 minutes	“Strong Arms Workout” Tricep Push ups – 12 reps Rest 20 seconds Bicep curls – 12 reps Rest 20 seconds Tricep Kickbacks – 12 reps each arm. Rest 20 secs
3 Tuesday	Jog/Run: See how far you can go and the mileage/time. Alternate running as far as possible and brisk walking for 2-3 minutes. Run/Walk for at least 30 minutes 50 regular crunches 50 bicycle crunches	“Sexy Leg Workout” See prior blog for workout
4 Wednesday	Pilates Mat (7pm JD)/Butt and Gut @ NC 9A/5:30P Run/Walk 15 minutes	“Strong Arms Workout”
5 Thursday	Jog/Run: See how far you can go and the mileage/time. Alternate running as far as possible and brisk walking for 2-3 minutes. Run/Walk for at least 30 minutes 50 regular crunches 50 bicycle crunches	“Sexy Leg Workout”
6 Friday	Any Class available 4:30 Body Flow @JD 30 Minutes any cardio 50 regular crunches 50 bicycle crunches	“Strong Arms Workout”

270 Day Challenge

2012-09-22T22:56:00.000-04:00

Prior to conception I was running, participating in Cross Fit, and eating funnel cakes at the South Carolina Fair. (because I was madly in love!) I always seem to gain 6-42 pounds when I'm newly smitten.

Side Note: Starting off pregnancy with slightly tight fat jeans and newly acquired bat wings totally blows. In the future, I won't let a man's love interfere with my obsessive insecurity and hatred of my thunderous thighs.

Though I'm still madly in love, I plan to lose those 7-10 pounds in addition to my baby weight within the next 270 days.

Because I live in Mount Pleasant with the rest of the Charleston yuppies, it is expected that I lose all of my baby weight and obtain a stomach suitable for a bikini meant for prepubescent teens within 5 hours post birth. I failed. So, in order to fit in to the Charleston Mommies Club and all the clothes in my closet, I've developed a 9 months workout plan designed to prepare me for a Michigan marathon in July and get me pinterest worthy fit... but not the gross, manly, no boobs kind of ripped.

That's right, I said you're going to be pinning my ass to your I Totally Wish I Was That Girl Board in 9 months. Cocky, right?

DAY ONE WORK OUT:
Don't judge me by the first workout. (I just pushed a human out of my body after sitting on my pregnantly large hiney for nine months!) They will eventually become GI Jane tough and soon I'll be sporting a two-pack and a wonder woman bikini while running in the rain with navy seals. #fellas!

Day	Workout	Challenge	Results
1 (Sunday)	PICTURE DAY - Take your before picture so you can document your transformation! (You don't have to show it to anyone) Jog/Run: See how far you can go and the mileage/time. Alternate running as far as possible and brisk walking for 2 minutes. Run/Walk for at least 30 minutes total. 50 regular crunches 50 bicycle crunches	“Sexy Leg Workout” 20 squats 30 Lunges 40 calf raises 50 sec wall squats 100 Jumping Jacks (If comfortable) 50 sec wall squats 40 sumo squats 30 leg raises 20 squats *taken from pinterest.	Measurements: Waist- Bust- Booty- Arm- Thigh-

Some of my friends are doing this program with me for support and motivation. I invite you to join us in our quest for total sexiness and strength, but remember that I am a blogger and not a doctor. Participation is at the individuals own risk and as all my dusty workout videos say, "Consult a doctor before starting an exercise program."

Feel free to post your thoughts, results, successes, failures, words of encouragement, or how much you hate working out but love sore butt muscles in the comments section throughout the 270 Day Challenge.

Current Stats:
Weight gained prior to pregnancy: 9lbs
Weight gained during pregnancy: 40 lbs
Weight lost since birth: 33lbs
Weight I'd be happy losing: 17lbs
Weight I need to lose to reach my fantasy dream weight: 37lbs

Heaviest - with 8lb baby and other heavy stuff going on in there.

Bring on the Castor Oil!

2012-09-07T16:50:00.001-04:00

I've heard that when people experience incredible levels of pain the body will go to great lengths of unconsciousness as a way of blocking out such affliction. Though I've never had the opportunity to experience third world torture tactics to test such a theory or make a viable comparison between flagellation and kneecapping, I have now joined the labor and delivery club and can state with authority that labor is like a hefty flogging from the ribcage to the genitals. (Refer to the previously posted pinterest icon.)

It was August 21, 2012. I woke up at 5 AM feeling both enormous and slightly damp. Had I peed myself again? It was the second day of school and, like any amazingly awesome teacher, I went to school to educate the youth of America... until lunch time. I called the Charleston Birth Place and told them that I believed I was leaking.

Midwife: "You need to come in right away."

Me: "Can I come in at 3:30?"

Midwife: "No. You need to come here right now."

By 12:30 I was drinking a delightful castor oil concoction sure to get this baby out within a 24 hour period.

Here is the midwifery potion for the
Miracle Baby Birthing Elixir:

2 ounces of castor oil

4 Tbsp Almond Butter

3/4 cup Apricot Nectar (found in the Hispanic aisle)

3/4 cup Champagne

Blend and drink.

Tastes okay the first time.

Tastes awful coming back up.

(You may want to get enough materials for two servings)

The second shake will taste like bad memories, but will do the job.

My first contraction occurred at 7:42PM, we got to the Charleston Birth Place at 9:04PM, and my baby was born at 9:59PM. Though I was fully conscious and aware of my turmoil, I think there were times when my mind compartmentalized the heinousness and hid those memories deep within my psyche. I'm hoping to find them before making future decisions to procreate.

This is what I recall in those two hours:

-Attempting to channel all that I learned in my Birthing from Within class and breathing like an angry rhinoceros.

-My husband drove the speed limit for the first time EVER due to the scary super trooper on the highway and my pleas to not get pulled over. (Who's going to argue with an angry rhino?)

-Saying to the midwife, "Get it out." and "I'm never doing this again." She gave me a look of amusement and responded, "See you in a few years."

-Watching the clock and thinking I should get a discount if I have this baby in less than an hour.

I do not recall using my lavender aromatherapy, the birthing play list on my ipod, or the color of mood lighting, as specified in my birth plan. I know they told me my nurse's name, but I don't remember it. I don't remember most of the pain as it happened (but my ribs hurt for days and I couldn't walk for a week). And half the things I packed I didn't use. Overall, I'd say I was fairly lucky that I didn't have much time to think about my birth plan or what was happening to my undercarriage.

We left the Birth Place at 4AM looking for an open Taco Bell and looking forward to a new life with our cute*, little addition.

*cute- the most adorable baby that's ever been born. ever.

Depends

2012-08-15T17:56:00.002-04:00

Yesterday I set a personal pregnancy record.

You see, my little womb squatter has compromised my ability to ward off the common cold and cough and it has increasingly gotten worse since Friday. I haven't slept in three nights, practice for when my little bundle is born, but that isn't the record that I've broken. Someone call Mr. Guinness, because I've reached geriatric levels of pants wetting. Every time I cough, I pee a little... okay, okay, sometimes a lot. Yes, a maxi can save me from most little tinkle squirts, but I truly had to change my pants FIVE times today due to Niagra-like consequences of cough attacks.

I feel like such a record should be documented for further proof of why I should never have another baby.

With the new school year right around the corner and few obvious signs of labor, I've decided to stock up on depends and pack my own diaper bag until the little buddy gets here. Then I can again hide myself and my embarrassing pregnancy mishaps within my own living room while practicing my kegels during maternity leave.

Not too Posh to Push

2012-07-31T15:54:00.000-04:00

I've always enjoyed researching, so I grew up to be a historian/writer/teacher type rather than a famous actor and singer, which was always my Plan B. It isn't surprising that Google has become my handy assistant and that I would sell a kidney for a lifetime subscription to JSTOR if given the chance. I mostly like to research historical events and what type of cancer I may have each time my head aches. I've learned that WebMD can cause hypochondria.

The last 8 months of pregnancy has offered a whole new avenue of research that has amazed, angered, and caused me to vomit on varying occasions. Words like 'placenta' triggered my gag reflex at first, but I'm getting over it slowly, perhaps because cervix and vagina are common topics discussed between pregnant people and their doctors... who would've thought!?

Contrary to my many recently watched episodes of Criminal Minds and CSI, attempted homicide and rape are not the leading cause of hospitalization in the United States. Shocking, I know. Child birth is actually the leading reason for hospitalization in the US, a whopping 86 BILLION DOLLAR INDUSTRY. (Condoms are only a 373 million dollar industry.)

It's comforting, really. I'm obviously not alone in my 9 month waddling, pants-wetting, and unexplained crying adventure. Nope, many other knocked up women are right there with me! High Five, ladies!

What isn't comforting are the facts surrounding pregnancy and birth. America, the best country in the world, right?! We clearly have superb swimmers, gymnasts, and....um.... nuclear weapons. So why do we have such shitty statistics in the realm of pregnancy?

The US is a world leader, or so they say, in many areas, but we have one of the worst c-section rates in the developed world. We're like third from the last on the list here, people. That would NEVER fly if we were talking about the Olympics. The World Heath Organization states that a healthy c-section rate is between 5-10%, but the US has a 33% c-section rate. (A costly procedure. See the 86 Billion Dollars mentioned above.) According to CNN Health, we have the 2nd worst newborn morality rate in the developed world, mostly due to low birth weight.

So, when someone hollers ridicule at me for choosing a birth center over a hospital, my first instinct is to tell them to leave matters of my vagina up to me. My second instinct is to recite the facts and explain that if I'm in the 5-10% of people that really need a c-section, I'm right next to the hospital with a doctor all lined up!

Epidurals are not an option at the birth center.

This may sting a little.

Sources:

Friedman, Howard Steven. “US Infant Mortality Rate Higher than any other Wealthy Country” Huffington Post Online. June 2012.

http://www.huffingtonpost.com/howard-steven-friedman/infant-mortality-rate-united-states_b_1620664.html

Green, Jeff. “U.S. has second worst newborn death rate in modern world, report says

CNN HEALTH.” May 2006.

http://articles.cnn.com/2006-05-08/health/mothers.index_1_mortality-rate-death-rate-world-s-mothers?_s=PM:HEALTH

http://www.ibisworld.com/industry/condom-manufacturing.html

My Baby's Nursery

2012-07-07T20:48:00.001-04:00

This is a panoramic view of Mr. Logan's room.

There's a lot of hype about baby nurseries, and for good reason! I mean, if I have to push a human out of my most prized possession, I damn well better have some fun decorating his new little home. My uterus was a divine place for him for the last 8 months, but frankly, I'm kinda ready for him to move out of this nest and in to one a little less invasive. I hate my body. I hate how exhausted I feel. I hate how much my back hurts. I have some plans for myself that don't involve growing earthlings. But I do love watching my belly morph in to various shapes as he moves. (I'd post the video, but it's freakish)

LOVE our crib from Shannon's grandmother.

I decided to go with jungle theme, because I if this kid is anything like his dad and mom, he's going to be a monkey. That, and all the thrift stores seemed to have ample quantities of jungle themed gear that would certainly match. Logan is due around the day of my cousin Steve's birthday and, judging by his 24/7 karate chops and cart wheels, I'm guessing he'll be a little crazy, like Steve. Perhaps its an August baby thing?

What's a room without a little Zebra flair?

Medical professionals say that babies really can't distinguish colors when first born, but they can see black and white contrasts. I think that what the doctor/psychologist/baby-studier is really saying is, "Get the kid a Zebra curtain!" So I put my little genius' books right next to the brain stimulating genius making curtain with a little help from my new best friend, Pinterest. Floating Shelving using L-brackets are what all the cool pinners are pinning about.

I didn't have a place for all those baby creams, clippers, and blue snot sucking mechanisms.... soooo tah-dah! The shoe holder worked just dandy.

It's the Baby's Fault

2012-07-05T10:55:00.001-04:00

At 32 weeks I'm finally catching on to the benefits of pregnancy. I've recently realized that baby Logan is the ultimate scape goat. (Forget the Jews! Blame the baby!)

When I was a kid I often used my mom as a scape goat.

When a childhood friend mentioned going to summer camp with her again I smoothly replied, "My mom said no." It wasn't that I didn't like going to summer camp with this friend, but I lived on a lake with four hundred siblings and cousins, a couple boats, and elderly people that loved to feed us sugar. My house was summer camp on steroids, but with better crafts and nightly smores that didn't require lame songs.

Without her knowledge, my mom said "NO" to a lot of things throughout my life, and now I plan on using my own child as a similar benefit.

We're gonna have to leave this party early; the baby is so tired.
Baby Logan really wanted cheap orange soda and pudding for dinner. (No, he isn't black.)
My little man just wanted to sit and watch HGTV and American Pickers all day.
Buddy reeeally wants to see the movie Brave. He has a thing for little red head girls.
The tiny Nugget ate ALL the Dove Chocolates again! He liked reading the promises inside the wrapper.
Today the vacuum scares the baby... so does Windex... and bleach. I'll talk to him about it.
The baby says that going out on the boat makes him have to pee.
It's 7AM and the baby says, "Come on, dad! Get up and play!"
I can't work out today; the baby doesn't want to.
Logan has gas again.

Now, I can use my baby to escape blame and events I'd prefer to miss.... which is so much better than growing some balls and becoming assertive.

There will be a Storm of Crocking

2012-06-29T12:31:00.001-04:00

As a pregnant teacher with nothing to do but sit around in the summer heat eating Dove chocolate and imitation crab (jealously hating the rest of the world as they enjoy the ocean, freedom, and hip bones), I've decided to spend my time researching ways to prepare for my teeny bundle and many sleepless nights.

According to various sites and magazines, there are websites where solicited friends and relatives can sign up to bring a meal to people who have recently experienced a major life bomb...like cancer or an infant. Unfortunately for Shannon (just Shannon, because I can't cook for crap), he will not reap the benefits of such a genius website. We have very few relatives in the area and all of our friends have been severely overly generous the last seven months. We also don't have a working oven. No, we don't live in a pop-up camper, but our house only receives enough electricity to support an ascetic on a lean cuisine diet.Therefore, I have decided to support Shannon's culinary responsibilities prior to pushing a human out my vagina. I'm super woman, I know.

In preparation for this adventure, I've dusted off the never-been-used crock pot received as a wedding gift for my first marriage! I knew that fairy tale wedding would come in handy someday. And I've found a variety of crockpot freezer meals that can be prepared weeks before the mini me tears me in two.

Here are some of my favorite recipes that will certainly not aid in my pregnancy weight loss attempts, but may save me from insanity.

My Sombrero Wearing Heffer
1 & 1/2 lbs of steak
2 cups of canned or frozen corn
18 oz jar of delicious salsa
14 oz. can of black beans
1/2 tsp salt
1/8 tsp crushed red pepper flakes
1/2 cup water added when meal is put in the crock.
6 hours on LOW

Faux Schnitzel
6 Chicken Breasts (Or less if you wanna cut the recipe)
6 piece of Swiss cheese
10 oz can of Cream of Mushroom Soup... I bought the 98% fat free, holler.
Splash of Water
Dash of Pepper
6 hours on LOW

I also stocked up on the following items in order to throw random bits in to the crock like the crazed, sleep deprived witch I'll be!

- Cream of __(insert item here)__ canned soup.
- Life Cereal
- Dry onion soup powder
- Frozen meats
- Lean Pockets
- Ice cubes

I think that should last a good 8 weeks...

"There will be a storm of crocking!"

-me, pretending I'm the witch from Hanzel and Gretel.

Not only will I be prepared for a rapture, zombie attack, and the doomer oil crisis, but I have also begun collecting a variety of take out menus with inclusive delivery services. Be prepared for follow up posts reviewing such cuisine.

Prenatal Depression- It's a thing

2012-06-26T16:26:00.001-04:00

As I've stated before, there are far too many aspects of pregnancy that women have failed to mention in general conversation. In fact, teen pregnancy would greatly decline if parents and school districts would only mention that in addition to a baby and/or an std the consequences of sex are also the complete loss of money, freedom, bladder control, sleep, emotions, attractiveness, and rational thought. Herpes isn't scary. Unbearable heart burn, waddling, gas, saggy boobs, hemorrhoids the size of a small ferret, wetting your pants in public, having the appetite equivalent 30 prepubescent 8th grade boys, and losing your nice bed to an evening of misery and infomercials on the couch, that's scary.

Because I was born with an older sister that introduced me to words like "episiotomy" and "placenta" far before I could stomach them, I was somewhat aware of how much growing a baby sucked. I've heard of postpartum depression, but no one ever speaks of prenatal depression.

I stopped taking anti-depressants when I found out I was pregnant. I didn't think it would be a big deal until I became a raging psycho, not unlike Charlie Sheen in recent years. Clearly I lacked much needed tiger blood, because the next few months involved the occasional melt down, days wearing nothing but sweat pants, and two trimesters of crying in my sleep. Now that I'm not sleeping anymore, I just cry...

I cried while leaving the gym yesterday, because I biked for one hour and had to interrupt my calorie burning for THREE bathroom breaks. Being a pregnant lady in the gym is like eating a cheese burger at a vegan event. Spandexed bitches lookin' at me every time I got off the bike...judging me and my monster abdomen with their skinny little eyes.

I cried at Wild Wings, because Shannon said that a mark on my leg looked like ring worm and then he smiled, which clearly meant that he was laughing at my misfortune. Then he drank his beer, mocking my sobriety ... and then comfortably ate his chicken wings while I sat there all chunky with my unsweetened tea crying about my wormy, alcohol-free, gargantuan life.

I cried after helping with vacation bible school at church. I'm not sure why. Jesus tears? Or maybe because I thought, "Oh my gosh, these mom's have to take these kids with them everywhere they go!"

I cried when the baby room was finished.

I cried when I felt hungry for the third time in a morning, after seeing the chocolate wonderfall on TV, knowing I had already eaten a normal daily allotment of calories. Damn Golden Corral.

I had a clothing meltdown (and cried) prior to getting pregnancy photos taken. Looking like an obese whale will do that to a person. (Note: an obese whale is the largest of all whales... a whale with a BMI of like a zillion).

I cried while watching a makeover show.

I cried when the dog hair needed vacuuming AGAIN.

I cry every time I take a shower and feel like crying when I see my reflection in a mirror.

I cry when Mr. Logan kicks me and dances on my bladder, but its because I'm so excited and I really just want to meet him.

Luckily, I have a husband that hugs me and a dog that follows me everywhere, licking my legs, scared that I might burst at any moment. To the non-incubators that are thinking, "this is normal", that doesn't help me. Wine helps.... okay, maybe no wine. Oh, how I miss wine.

Pregnant Lady To Do List

2012-06-23T09:10:00.001-04:00

Last night's evening news ingeniously reported that "summer can be a difficult season for pregnant women." Now there's a news flash. Not only has every sales clerk, check out lane bagger, waitress, and random stranger encountered at the local Walmart made that same observation, but I am also alive and able to notice the temperature and humidity.

"Wow, it's a rough time to be pregnant. August is a horrible month to have a baby. Did you plan it that way?" -Babies R Us Lady.

Never fear. As any thoughtful pregnant lady would do, I put together a list of doctor approved* activities for all the stupid women that dared to have a baby in the heat of the summer, myself included.

Pregnant Lady To Do List

1. Go to your local, air conditioned gym and find the bench press area. Leave the bar completely weightless and ask the grunting, sweaty, ripped sleeved t-shirt meat head, the one that stared at you condescendingly upon entrance, to spot you. After one press, give him a high five and leave.

2. When approached by a random that has taken it upon him or her self to offer unsolicited advice, simply state, "You think I'm pregnant? I thought I just ate too many cheetos! Quick, do you have a pregnancy test!"

3. Order two pieces of cake and two beverages. Alternate bites and sips while saying, "One for me. One for baby. One for me..."

4. Take your cooler of O'Douls to a nearby beach and sport your belly for the world to see. Bring sun screen; bigger bellies can burn somethin' fierce!

5. My husband accused me of sitting around all day and doing nothing but watching TV. . . not true! But should a really great sitcom marathon come on, I just may do that. Bring on the Gilmore Girls and a bag of chips! Get yourself a crystal bell and yell your husband's name in a British accent every time you need something; you're growing a human and deserve some assistance.

6. Eat a chocolate bar while pinning your amazingly taut after baby body on pinterest. ... then go make the 3 dozen different desserts, organize your garage, reuse various condiment bottles, learn to braid, and spray paint some random toy dinosaurs and put a plant in them.

7. Start a blog and talk to yourself and the great cyber abyss of the world daily. :)

*These activities were not approved by any doctor. That was a lie. I do have a masters degree, so they are only approved by a history master and therefore should not be taken seriously. Proceed at your own risk.

That should cover about seven days of summer. If you have great ideas to fill my next two months of unemployed, womb growing, pregnant time leave your ideas in the comments section. It'll be appreciated.

In the marathon of life... I've reached a few mile markers.

2012-06-20T12:15:00.001-04:00

In my 27th year I hit many of life's major mile markers.

I moved back to Charleston after a few fun nomadic years where I failed to figure out what I was looking for, but definitely found what I was not looking for. Ultimately, I did determine that the beach and this historical city is a very nice fit. I think I'll stay for awhile.

I shed my starter husband and found my life partner, soul mate, baby daddy... the one I wouldn't mind pushing around in a wheel chair when he's old, gray, and over weight, because he'll probably still be funny...fingers crossed.

I also found a career that I like, sometimes love (sometimes hate, but only momentarily), friends that are loyal, awesome, and fun, some silly in-laws, and a big pregnant belly that destroyed my typical weekly activities as well as the hobbies I use to define myself.

Due to baby Logan, I no longer define myself as a gym rat, runner, or buff chic on the beach. Instead, I'm humpty dumpty. Okay, I'm a soon-to-be mom marking her days with other various mile stones and trying to gracefully accept comments like, "Whoa, you're huge."

In honor of my pre-baby life, I would like to remind the world that last year no one would have screamed "Free Willy!" at me on the beach.

Birthday 27: Bring on the Wine

Mile Markers Attainable ONLY Through Procreation or Bodily Deterioration:

1. Fear of Sneezing: Caught off guard while watching Dance Moms by a triple round of sneezes is no longer just a nuisance, but rather a moment of crotch grabbing fear. Will I pee myself again? The answer is almost always YES, but the real question is, "WHY DID NO ONE WARN ME!" From now on, I'm buying Poise and Witch Hazel as a gift to all my pregnant friends.

2. Granny Panties: Wearing a sundress while pregnant doubles a lady's chances of a Marilyn Monroe moment. As any pilot knows, the widened hips, larger bum, and gigantic belly all cause an increase in lift when one encounters a wind speed greater than 2 knots. Therefore, I swallowed my pride and bought underwear, Granny Underwear. . .a floral circus tent that would cover my bum and lower belly while accentuating my egg-like appearance.*

*Thankfully, I have found that slightly larger than life thongs are just as comfortable and we're back to feeling sexy in lacy thongs that can double as ratchet strap tie downs the next time we move.

3. TMI Vocabulary Terms are Acceptable: Vagina, Cervix, Episiotomy...all are words that cause slight leg crossing, eye-twitching discomfort and yet, now that I'm a whale, people openly discuss various facts and mostly horror stories with me. I feel like my scholarly chats with peers have transformed from Middle Eastern politics to tits, rashes, and tearing. awesome. Tip for the experienced birthers: Keep it to yourself.

Overall, I'm excited that I'm about to be a member of this child rearing, play date posse. I can soon join the coveted local gang called Charleston Mommies. And, rather than introducing myself as Jamie, I can now be called Logan's mom. I can discuss important things like crib recalls and lazy high school gym day care workers that let the children watch things like Sponge Bob!

As of yesterday, I'm twenty eight years old! 28! I remember my dad saying I couldn't have a boyfriend until I was 28. (And I wish he would have stuck to his guns on that one!) I think my 28th year is going to be my best year. With a new little munchkin and my studly hubby, how can it not be anything less than amazing?

Birthday 28:

Never leave a cake at home with a pregnant woman.

She WILL eat some frosting at 9AM and a baby piece for lunch.

I Bought a Brand New Circus Tent for Summer

2012-06-04T17:25:00.002-04:00

366 days ago I was competing in the Grand Rapids Triathlon and was in fairly decent shape. (Several months of living depressed and friendless in Coral, Michigan with a free YMCA membership will do that to a person.) Today, I'm at my heaviest and happiest as I sit here with my baby bump eating sharp cheddar with my cranberry juice filled wine glass. Ah, chunky bliss.

I'm afraid baby Logan may have some behavioral issues. He likes to wake up at 7am and give his mom a good couple kicks, a flip, and a jab or two right on the bladder. He spends most of the day engaging in some sort of baby Tae Quan Do or Crav Maga, though we're not Asian or Israeli. And then around 4 pm induces heart burn. Shortly after, he takes a nap until 10pm when the dance party begins. I can't tell if he's going to be the next American Ninja Warrior or Richard Simmons... hmmm... or Jason Statham, but with hair.

There are so many details involved in growing, having, and raising a human. Lucky for me, I have pinterest. Though I have only a few purchased nursery items so far, pinterest has provided me the opportunity to plan my life several years in advance. I can ultimately live my life prior to living it, adjusting potentially poor decisions and changing my mind as I go. For example, I can pin twelve different nurseries without having twelve children, but still enjoy baby soccer playing monkeys until I'm sick of the motif and can move on to rainbow unicorns. I can also design an entire album of baby girl pictures, outfits, bedrooms, names, crafts, birthday parties, spelling bee flash cards, and much more all the way in to her teenage years, college, and wedding without ever having to have another child. I can get out there and "do" the fitness section of pinterest while I "pin" the other stuff. glorious. GR Triathon 2013 here I come!

Hello, Saddlebags.

2012-05-07T18:21:00.001-04:00

Its 8:58 AM and I’ve eaten my typical, pre-pregnancy allotment of calories for the day. The current tally includes: 1 spoonful of dark chocolate peanut butter, 1 Sprite Zero, 2 bottles of water, 1 totally unsubstantial yogurt light, 1slightly revolting pepperoni lean pocket, 1 mini bag of peanut M&M’s, and a small coffee with two French vanilla creamers.

Good morning 740 calories, you’ve neither fulfilled my baby’s cravings nor prepared me for the next several child-filled hours.

On a good note, it’s really the first time in 10 years that I haven’t been on a diet. Pregnancy is like running around wild without a bra, freeing but the droopy consequences are sure to come.

Just last week I ordered something other than a salad minus all things evil from a Mexican restaurant and it was like I had an epiphany. What is this thing they call a chimichanga? What have I been missing these last 10 years of exercise and diet? Apparently, I’ve been missing out on a lot; including saddlebags, which I can now claim as my own. Hello saddlebags!

Due to the small closets and few storage areas of our new home, last night I decided to pack up the clothes that currently do not fit me to make room for baby onesies and miniature sweater vests. Six large plastic totes later and I have securely packed up all my favorite clothes along with the depression of seeing them in all their tiny glory. This very task completely exhausted me, so I popped a prenatal and went to bed before 9. Pregnancy, it's the life.

Pregnancy: The unmentionables no one chose to mention.

2012-04-10T11:04:00.002-04:00

Pregnancy: The unmentionables no one chose to mention.

Hollywood and pinterest have totally glorified pregnancy to be nothing but adorable baby bump pictures and Dr. Seuss parties. It isn't so. I recently read an article in a pregnancy magazine about other delightful pregnancy side effects such as hemorrhoids, infections, gestational diabetes, and the dreaded kankle. Still, I feel like the article was inadequate and women have failed to warn the childless what pregnancy really has to offer.

1. Pheromones

Pheromone: "a secreted or excreted chemical factor that triggers a social response in members of the same species. Pheromones are chemicals capable of acting outside the body of the secreting individual to impact the behavior of the receiving individual." -Wikipedia, a very reliable source.

According to the hippy midwife at the birthing center, pheromones are affecting my husband and, as a result, he likes me more. Not only can I get away with acting like a crazy, but he no longer protests when I alternate dipping popcorn in to mustard and chocolate sauce. (A delicious treat, by the way.) Due to this hormonal trickery, he has also recently purchased an expensive Gender Reveal Test and a fetal heart monitor, watched several episodes of the Gilmore Girls, and has given up drinking. Just kidding. He hasn't given up drinking, but rather has concocted a new beverage he dubbed "The Tolerator".

Regardless, I can tell he likes me more despite my whale like appearance... and I'm banking on those pheromones to kick in when he comes home and realizes I just ate all the good jelly beans out of his Easter basket.

2. How to tell 6th, 7th, and 8th graders that you're now an incubator and a teacher.

During my first year of teaching, to my first husband, in my first year a marriage, a little boy raised his hand and asked,
"You gonna have a baby?"
"Um, no. Let's stay on topic."
"She looook pregnant. I can tell. You not fat yet, but its your face."

I found out the following weekend that I was pregnant and after having a miscarriage the same child said to me, "Yer baby dead, huh?"

Children are odd little creatures with unusual pregnancy detection tentacles. This year, my students asked me right away. A seventh grader came up to me, put her hand on my belly and asked, "Is there a baby in there?" While other classes just flat out asked me in front of everyone, "You pregnant?" "Why you wearing big clothes?"

None of the students bought the lie, "I've been eating too many sloppy joes at lunch."

So after a few weeks I told them.

6th Grade Response:
Several hand drawn pictures of Baby S put on my desk each week by a variety of cute little girls. One was a little monster baby with fangs saying, "I'm a cute monster baby! Rawr!!!!" One day I told them to stand silent in line or Baby S would cry. They were silent. I love sixth grade.

7th Grade Response:
"Mrs. Stengel! You can NOT move that stack of books! Let me do it." "You can NOT pick up papers on the floor. You can't bend over like that; you'll squish that baby."

8th Grade Response:
A little too much teacher belly fondling from the girls followed by a list of 8th grade approved baby names: Emily, Na'Talya, Tania, Francis Marion...

And too many questions They asked if it was black even though they know what Shannon looks like.

They also asked me if I wanted to get "knocked up". When I said "Yes, I wanted to have a baby. Knocked up is typically a term used when people accidentally get pregnant, so I'm not knocked up. Let's not use that term." Which led me to the conclusion that we have a generation of students confused about artificial insemination, because as one girl stated, "I thought all kids were accidents unless the mom went to the doctor to get a baby put in her???"...and back to learning about the Civil War.

I also overheard the following statements from one particular darling child:
In response to getting homework: "Oh wow, ain't my fault you got knocked up"
In response to telling the class to quiet down: "She need to get laid"
Randomly yelled out several times during a lesson: "Dirty Whore!"
It was difficult not to stop and tell him that such comments contradict.

3. Ridiculous Comments/Sassy Responses
After completing this nine month adventure, I'm going to write a guide to pregnancy. However, my guide will actually contain pertinent information all pregnant women need to know. That is, sassy responses to ridiculous comments.

"So, was it planned?" No, this baby was an accident, but I'm keeping it anyway so that I can blame all my future failures on my mistake child.

"I feel so bad drinking in front of you." Oh, don't feel bad. I just smoked a joint.

"You're gonna get it circumcised, right?" Unless you're a pedophile, my baby's genitals really aren't your concern.

Random strangers awkwardly molesting your belly saying, "When are you due?" Um, not sure what you're talking about. I'm just fat.

"You're going to (insert hospital). You're really brave" So, you think I'm going to die? Excellent. Thanks for the words of encouragement.

"Water birth seems so nasty." Um, from what I've heard, all birth is pretty messy.

4. The importance of the baby nursery and baby shower
Due to pinterest it is now an inconceivable idea that a mother-to-be would not have a themed baby shower. With so many great ideas being pinned at record speed, women are now planning pregnancies just to have the cute themed shower. How does a girl choose between owls and zebras and circus acts? Not only is the shower important, but the coordination of the shower with the baby nursery is essential for decorating technique. There are just so many creative ideas, how does one choose? Is the world map wall decal going to make my baby more intelligent? Will pastels and stuffed lambs make my baby more calm? Is green really the new pink?!

Between this, painting a wall with organic, homemade chalk paint, and utilizing empty cottage cheese containers for more bathroom storage, how will I ever find time to grow a human?!

Slow Water Buffalo

2012-03-19T22:14:00.000-04:00

Today I went for a two hour pregnancy run.

Pregnancy run (adv)(v): (1)The act of moving slowly in a running formation. (2)Wearing three sports bras while briskly pumping your arms. (3)Walking and/or waddling with an occasional quick step. (4)A waste of clean workout clothes. (5)Similar to that of a water buffalo running from a predator.

"I'm sexy and I know it"
-my head as I ran at an abnormally slow speed and was twice past by an old woman.

I wasn't alone on my pregnancy run. Shannon came with me, because he has a gimpy knee. Now that I'm a water buffalo the playing field is "evenly matched" (meaning: he feels bad and will run slow and walk with me). Shannon took the opportunity to manipulate the situation in to securing his baby name of choice, Cooper.

If my baby is named after a local bridge, blame it on the pregnancy run.

Everyone knows that crocodiles, lions, and monsters specifically hunt the slowest of water buffalo. Unfortunately, my eighth grade class contains mostly monsters as well as a few lone sloths and three doe doe birds. Because of this, my days are typical of those described in Dante's Inferno, though a day in the frozen lake may reign superior to a day with those budding young spirits that insist on attacking my buffalo-ness and tormenting me.

I now understand why teachers take advantage of maternity leave during the school year. And now you understand why teachers have to take 2 hour runs despite their giant growing belly.

What's in a name?

2012-03-05T20:39:00.000-05:00

After careful thought and consideration, I've finally decided on a baby name.

There were several excellent name choices in the running. "Aiden" seems to be the new favorite, sure to secure my baby a spot in the popular club. A "Baby James" would quickly boot my brother from the long held favorite child position and possibly prompt my parents to make more frequent trips to Charleston. My husband, Shannon, has specifically stated that no little boy should be named Shannon, Jamie, Whitney, Sandy, or Sue... After five years of teaching, I've learned that names such as Ian, Tyrone, and Shithead can only result in Ritalin, Juvenile Detention, and dog collars. Being an Edward now makes you a blood sucker, and if I wanted my child to be a divinely appointed religious fanatic and politician, I'd name him Rick. But none of these name really seem to fit MY little munchkin.

So, after much contemplation, I've decided to name the child Vomit.
It's creative, gives a portrayal of strength and strong will, and isn't any different than naming my little bundle Apple, Blue, or Poppy. In fact, Vomit is a verb, highly superior to some lame noun or adjective. It's original and will certainly stand out on a resume header. :)

Why no girl names? Because I'm positive that only a male could induce such extreme nausea.

Its Baby Time

2012-02-27T20:00:00.000-05:00

"There are a few things worse than pregnancy. Holocaust, port-o-potties, stirrup pants..."

I'm officially 14 weeks pregnant, and it hasn't been all sunbeams and unicorns since the stick turned pink.

My pregnancy was planned, though I never thought I'd be pregnant so quickly. And, because of my unexpected extreme fertility, I've thoughtfully changed my name to Amaunet the Fertility Goddess, but you can call me Jenital for short.

I'm so excited about having a little munchkin that I can raise, ruin, and push to extreme levels of success. Baby Stengel has already been added to the waiting list of the best tennis, ballet, archery, fencing, equestrian, clay shooting, synchronized swimming, and t-ball programs in Charleston. I have an Urdu, Farsi, Mandarin, and Cuneiform tutor lined up and I've paid off the principal at the local private school. She/He is only the size of a peach and already has an extra curricular calendar destined to land Baby S in the first round draft of Harvard University. Mommy's so proud.