Most hated expression ever!

When future kidlets whine, “But that’s not fair!” …

I will never say “Life’s not fair!”

I hated that expression more than anything, and still do. I’d rather hear “Well, kill yourself!” Anything but those three words.
Because I knowwwww life isn’t fair. But there is nothing more annoying than hearing it over and over.
I must think of a retort I can actually use … Maybe “Oh, well!” or “Tough!” Whatever it is, that is what will become my kid’s most-hated expression. Gotta pass it on!

Mini Mozarts & Baby Beethovens

A few years ago, Darling Husband and I purchased a fancy-schmancy TV. It was one of those double-income-no-kids purchases that I’m sure will come to an end before we know it … like the PlayStation 3 … and the Wii … and the computers …

Geez, there are some definite benefits to being D-I-N-Ks.
Anyway, we have a nice TV, and from what I’ve read/heard, it soon be monopolized by Disney’s Baby Einstein vids.
I know — just know — that I will be one of those total suckers who buys anything “educational.” So in a year or so, I’m probably going to be raving about these damn DVDs.
But I just watched a couple of previews, and I do kind of see how they are hypnotizing. All of the little hand-painted wooden toys moving around, and the … shiny things. 
But they are probably hypnotizing for babies. What about the parents who have to sit through it? Or are they so sleep-deprived that they are totally into it?
Orrrrrrrr, maybe the parents aren’t supposed to watch the videos at all? And they are supposed to use those precious 30 minutes to, like, pick up all of the blocks and dolls, while the baby is zoned out?
I wonder if Baby Einstein comes in high-def …

Like Lindsay Lohan … only preggers!

I WANT: Ingrid & Isabel’s Belly Leggings

I am totally into leggings right now, and these look sooooo comfy! They’re mega-soft, stretchy maternity leggings that you can fold down like yoga pants or yank up over your bump.

PRICE: $69.99

The most beautiful lullabye

Bye and bye, bye and bye
The moon’s a slice of lemon pie
The mice who ate the other half
Have scattered star-crumbs in the sky

Bye and bye, bye and bye
My darling baby, don’t you cry
The moon is still above the hill
The soft clouds gather in the sky

— From Laura Krauss Melmed’s The Rainbabies

Vegetables are your friend

In the spirit of the new year, Darling Husband and I — and most people we know — are in a flurry of let’s-eat-healthier-and-get-more-exercise.

It’s a nice thought, and honestly, I get very healthy-keen every few months, but it only lasts about a week. Then the cookie dough re-enters my life, chewy morsel by chewy morsel.
I’m not a horrible junk foodie, but the second I feel deprived of something, the whole world seems evil. I mean, don’t I deserve such a small happiness? Life’s too short, yada yada.

This year, however, feels different — and yeah, yeah, I know that’s what they all say.

This year, Darling Husband has re-joined the gym, and is afraid of his trainers. They do regular weigh-ins and waist measurements, and because he loves/respects these muscle men, he is determined not to disappoint them.

For a man who believes gummi candy is healthy if it’s fruit-shaped, this is unbelieveable.

Darling Husband has his motivation — not disappointing the Big Strong Trainers — and I have mine: getting healthier for the impending preggosity.
I’d like to get in better physical shape — i.e. get some exercise that doesn’t revolve around necessary things like dog-walking and stair-taking. I also want to eat more vegetables — I’ve heard it’s recommended — and more milk, etc.

Oh, and my doctor has been pushing Folic acid for years, like a … well, like a pusher! I told him, years ago, that I wasn’t planning on getting pregnant for a while, but he was like “Ohh, take it anyway!” Does he get a cut?

Anyway, I do have it, and I am going to take it. Maybe even some kind of regular vitamin. God knows I haven’t had any since the Flintstone ones.
I’m not too sure if most people try to “get healthy” beforehand, but I figure it can’t hurt. Then perhaps my future kidlets will have less of the McNugget gene.

Diaper duty

As a kid born and raised in the 80s, I wore disposable diapers. When I got older and began babysitting, all of those kids wore disposable diapers. I love patting a baby’s butt to get that crunchy, plasticy Pampers sound through their sleepers.

But now, somehow, I am hearing lots of talk about cloth diapers. Better for the planet, better for the baby, blah, blah. I only paid attention when I heard how they were much, much cheaper than disposables.

Since Darling Husband and I are not mega-rich — as in, there is a good chance our baby could end up wearing empty Cheeto bags with leg-holes — I was intrigued.

I did a bit of searching and saw that these are not the white-handerchief-fastened-with-a-safety-pin kind of diapers I was picturing — which I probably got from various cartoons. The new ones are made of fleecy-looking fabric, and have snaps and ruffles and cute patterns.

I like! I like! Tell me more!

Mommies and Daddies with lotsa cash can hire diapers services that pick up the dirty ones and drop off clean ones, but for the rest of us, here is how it appears to work:

I’m sketchy on the details, but it looks like you take the poo-diaper, take off some kind of pad, swish it in the toilet to get the poo off — or something equally gross — and then put it in your washing machine.

And you would wash all of the diaper pads together, as not to poo-ify your clothes, towels, etc. And then you dry the diaper pads, and they are good to be re-used. Moms, does that sound right?

It definitely seems less expensive than the Pamper/Huggies route, because even the kid-less know that disposables are costly. If you buy cloth diapers, you are spending much less, but have to factor in laundry costs, extra work, etc. Sadly, though, you don’t get the cute crunchy pat-pat sound.

I am leaning towards the cloth route — for the cash factor, not so much into the tree-savin’ — for home, but using disposables for travel/going out, etc.

I am not sure what you would do with a fouled cloth diaper in the middle of the mall, but the idea of somehow transporting it home does not sound pleasant …

How soon is too soon?

You know the expression “Make hay while the sun shines”? Well, shouldn’t that also apply to baby preparedness?

I am not pregnant, and have not even been pregnant, so I have no idea how sick/tired/generally crap I might feel when I am. WHAT IF … dramatic pause … I feel so blahhh that I don’t have enough energy to shop for stuff bebe will need? Horror!
Hmmm …
SO wouldn’t it make a bit of sense to begin stocking up now? You know, on those onesie things all the mommy bloggers rave about?
Sample list:

– Onesies
– Socks
– Um … burb cloths?
– Bibs?
You know, basics. So I can catch sales and stuff?
Or … is this just me, looking for an excuse to hit up the cutesy baby stores, like, a year too early? Hmm, not sure if this is practical or just weirdy. Might freak out Darling Husband …

Room to move

What sane woman doesn’t like to think about decorating a nursery? Really? It’s one of the most flippin’ fun things out there.

One of the main reasons I plan on finding out the boy/girl situation is so I know how to decorate! Will the room be adorable and pink with girlyness everywhere? Or charming and boyish with, like, blue stuff?
The decorating, I’ve got covered. The big question is …. where?

It’s something I’ve thought about ever since Darling Husband and I bought our place two years ago. It’s not a huge place, and only has two bedrooms. One is ours (obvs) and the other is currently an office. We both have very techy jobs, so computers — and their hoardes of accessories — are very important to us.
So it’s only natural to wonder … um … what exactly are we going to do with all of our STUFF when bebe becomes a reality? And the office is converted into baa-baa-black-sheep land?
I’m not sure what other people do. The only “parents” I know have more than two bedrooms, so they always have plenty of office space left over. What about people like us? Do we turn half our bedroom into an office? The dining room? The living room? A random closet???
NOTE TO SELF: Research how people living in teeny Manhattan apartments make it work! There must be a way to keep the baby from sleeping in the linen closet.

The six-month suspicion

Is there some unwritten rule that EVERYONE thinks you must be preggers once you’ve been married for six months?

Very strange developments. Have been married for just under seven months, and I had THREE (3) separate people ask* me if I was pregnant. Totally out of the blue!

*I should add that these people had NOT seen me in person, so it wasn’t like they noticed a Christmas pooch. It was all via phone/IM/text. This makes it weirder.

Is this something I should expect constantly until I actually do pop one out? It is a little unsettling to always have to wonder, “When did they last see me? Did I look chunk-o? Do I now?”

A year of preparation

I have always been a mommy-in-training.

I was very into baby dolls growing up — until I caved to peer pressure and gave them up at 11 13. I always knew I would someday have my own kids. Long before my husband and I married, we discussed how much we wanted two or three.

Now that we are — almost — at that time, I find myself obsessing over it. Everywhere I look, I see babies and hear people talking about babies. I see pregnant women everywhere. I pore over mommy blogs, so I decided to start my own future-mommy one (Hi there! Thanks for reading!).

But I am constantly reminded of what having a baby would mean. It means leaving a career I have worked hard for — either just for a while, or forever. It could mean tough times, financially.

I am torn between two parts of myself — the Type A over-achiever, who enjoys working and would never want to disappoint her bosses, and the 50s housewife, who would really enjoy being a stay-at-home mom. It’s definitely a head-versus-heart dilemna.

I’m the kind of person that makes lists for everything, and plans for everything, so I am dedicating 2009 to getting ready — mentally, physically, financially, etc. — to be a mother. I know you can never be really prepared for a baby, but I want to do the best I can. It means so much to me.