Tiny Bladder, Big Problems

One of the things that comes with pregnancy is the incredible shrinking bladder. There's a lot less space for all the stuff there used to be space for so a lady in my condition has to plan accordingly. This means a bathroom every few hours-- and it's only going to get worse.

Over the past month or so as I've begun to feel better (yes! bit by bit, but still have true morning sickness these days), I've gone out and about more. I have found myself in a Starbucks or gas station or library bathroom a few times. I'm constantly disappointed by the restroom conduct of my fellow woman.

Therefore, I thought I would take this opportunity to share a little tip: be wary of all public washrooms and swipe before you wipe. It only takes a few seconds, but it may save you from a rather uncomfortable situation. Why people can't keep the toilet seats clean is extremely puzzling to me, but it does happen more often than not. Seriously? The same people who don't want to actually SIT on the toilet are the ones who are causing this problem to begin with.

Let's think about this: you sit, you don't miss, everything goes where it should and we all go about our business. You squat, you will likely create a complete and total biohazard mess and other people have to clean up after you. There's a solution out there for people who are still creeped out by the thought of their loins sharing a toilet seat with strangers: paper toilet shields. They have them in many public restrooms and they can be the first line of defense for the germ-phobic.

Yes, there are some of those auto-flushing toilets that leave a bit of a spray, but nothing compared to some of the toilets I've come into contact with over the past few weeks. I'm considering getting myself a few Go-Girls just so I don't have to deal with this anymore. The joys of mom-to-be-dom...

To be continued!!

The Busine$$ of Being Born

If you're pregnant or thinking about becoming pregnant and totally want to spook yourself and your partner out completely, watch this movie.

Hazard of Pregnancy: Mom Arm

You know it-- Mom Arm. It is the familiar human seatbelt. It used to swing across you as mom came to a screeching (or at least abrupt) halt while driving. It might have been at a stop sign, traffic light, in a parking lot when someone cut in front of her... And now, as I approach 19 weeks, I have found that I too have developed Mom Arm.

I have no little person sitting next to me in the passenger seat, but last night I found myself extending my right arm as if to prevent someone from leaning forward. Sure, I had a bag of stuff there like I usually do, but nothing that couldn't have fallen on the floor. I think it's just something that cannot be explained.

Now that we're in our new house, I am driving more. Perhaps I am more aware of my behavior, but I think it's simply another side effect of pregnancy. This one can stay as long as it wants to. The morning sickness on the other hand, should go. I have gone through a whole box of my bio bags and even moving to the nice country house hasn't totally spurred the illness. I get a little relief listening to the birds, smelling the jasmine, and looking out the window from my new office perch, but I still can't remember what 'normal' feels like. Only 21 more weeks to find out.. but let's hope it's sooner.

Meltdown

Today was hanging together until evening rolled around and then everything unraveled rather quickly. I really need to get myself to bed, so I won't elaborate. Let's just say that even with the medication, at approaching week 17 (SEVENTEEN! The nugget is the size of an avocado! I should be feeling better, not worse!) I'm sliding downward faster than a plebe on the Herndon monument.

Torture (con't)

It's Easter Sunday and I should have been gorging on Peeps and chocolate but instead, I've taken a few steps back and missed yet another great candy holiday. I was really disappointed when Valentine's Day came and went and I couldn't eat endless chocolate-covered marshmallow hearts and heart-shaped Reese's peanut butter cups. Now I've missed another one, and I'm just lucky that there aren't any other big candy holidays on the horizon.

I don't have a candy addiction, but I do like eating it. I enjoy having a sweet after dinner. Or, admittedly, after breakfast. Whatever. Now, even approaching 17 weeks, I still have to think to myself, "how will this taste going the other way?" and, "do you really want to do this?"

The same struggle I have with sweets is presenting itself with the one thing actually truly I want to drink: orange juice. I would like to swim in a river of the stuff and also get an OJ IV and have sticky orange fingers for days. I want pulpy teeth that I have to constantly floss from eating so many oranges. I pause when I see orange displays at the grocery store. Morning, noon and night, all I want are oranges. Is this a craving? Maybe. Or perhaps it's just an overwhelming urge to avoid getting scurvy. Regardless, these great navels and Valencias have been getting me in trouble. For the past three days I've satisfied my desire for an orange, orange juice, or both. And all three days I've suffered the consequences. Yep, still sick. But maybe now it's all my fault. I'm just tired of the Ensure. And the bland toast and the almonds and other things I've been forcing myself to eat in an attempt to get myself some nutrients and all-important protein. I just want to have a few oranges! So now they're off limits. Clint's not allowing me to eat them any more because they cause too much havoc. Sadness. It seems that fruit juices of any kind are tough. I can handle melons (boooorrr-ing) but I don't want melon. I just want the oranges!! Please!!

Now that oranges are off my menus and chocolate has been cut back, I'm left trying to get creative without causing problems. Tomorrow I head back to the aisles looking to be inspired. Wish me luck.