Real Moms Don't Wear Lipstick!

First and foremost, why did I call my book Real Moms Don't Where Lipstick? It speaks to the idea that when we become Moms we give up a lot. A lot of our former self. In some cases, we become a shell of our former self where things that were important before, just aren't. Like putting on lipstick! Who has time! I feel like so many Moms can relate to this, even gorgeous celebrity Moms. When you have a child your identity completely shifts, even if you maintain the same status at work, something in your core dramatically changes. For so many of us, the old self becomes last priority and for a lot of Moms that means giving up a lot - working out, clothes shopping, going out with friends, looking cute. But it doesn't have to! It's all about finding the balance. What I mean by that is not time management. I mean, finding out what works for YOU to be the happiest Mom YOU can be. And to start, we have to stop comparing ourselves to others, because what works for one woman, won't necessarily work for you.

We women love to do this endless comparison game. Whether it's about each other's outfits, boyfriends, husbands, careers, children. It's how we size ourselves up - by sizing each other up. Let's face it, don't you look other women up and down and make an almost immediate judgement about who they are, what they do, if you are better or worse than them? Immediately feelings like admiration, envy, adoration, curiousity pop up. As women we are infinitely curious about ourselves and our inner workings and we often try to discover more of ourselves through other women and how alike or disalike we are.

My Mom always boosted my ego and told me I was great. However, one day she said, "There will always be someone prettier than you." There was great freedom in that statement because I was able to take myself off the hook for constantly and never-endingly competing in the looks department. I applied it to other areas as well. "There will always be someone smarter, more successful, etc." The idea is that the only person you have to compete with is yourself - to be the best YOU you can be. you were born with certain assets and some of those are fixed. I have fair, freckled skin. I'm not going to have smooth olive skin no matter how hard I try. But I can play on my features to be the most attractive ME I can be. Freedom.

Same goes with Motherhood. You can be the best Mom YOU can be. Not the Mom your neighbor or best friend is. Stop trying to be someone else and embrace who you are.

DADDY, YOU'RE FIRED!

I realize what I am about to write is going to PISS OFF just about every man/husband/father reading this…and actually make most of you women/wives/mothers absolutely GLOAT….but that is not my intention. My intention would be for men to actually see something in this that could be a contribution to their relationship. But, alas, I can’t control your reaction, so here goes.

Why do men think it’s ok to come home from work and plop on the couch or get on the computer or basically do ANY activity that is the equivalent of “checking out” instead of being an active/present participant in the family activities? I mean, this isn’t the 40’s where the man comes home from work and the wife is waiting with her apron on and a cold martini on a tray and the man goes and sits in his favorite chair in front of the tv and throws his feet up on the ottoman, only for his wife to remove his shoes! Hi Leave it to Beaver, Archie Bunker. I mean, why should the woman wait on the man and do all the work? I know what most men’s argument is. Here it goes. “I’ve been working hard all day to support this family [I deserve to be taken care of]. Uh…helllllllooooo….and what have WE been doing? Sitting on our butts eating bon bons?! And then my favorite is when men have the kids for ONE day so Mom can get a break and the Dad says, “What are you complaining about, that was EASSSSYYYYY.” Ok, Dads, listen up. Having your kids for ONE day here and there is not equivalent to full time parenthood….and if you think it is, try quitting your job and being in our shoes and then you’ll see how HARD it is.

It absolutely fries me when my husband gets home from work and soon after giving my son and I his cursory hello, he slips into the office and gets on the computer. Meanwhile, I am either cooking dinner or entertaining our son….not to mention our son has been anxiously awaiting his arrival home from work. That is probably the saddest part….he doesn’t realize how excited his son is to see him and have his attention, and he is in the office surfing tabloid websites. Give me a break! Wouldn’t I love to be doing that??? Parenthood means sacrifice and selflessness, and unfortunately, NOT doing what you want to do WHEN you want to do it….all the time. It’s time for a Daddy wake up call.

BREASTFEEDING: BONDING OR BONDAGE??!!!

To breastfeed or not to breastfeed…that is the question. Sure this may not be as profound as Shakespeare’s question to live or to die, but probably the most difficult decision for many new Moms to make. I have to admit, for me breastfeeding came relatively easy with my two children. I didn’t have problems with latching, it wasn’t painful and I produced enough milk… Not enough milk to feed a small army, but enough milk to feed my little soldier. I really enjoyed breastfeeding my son (he breastfed until 9 months and is now 3.5 years old), and still do with my daughter (six months old), but breastfeeding doesn’t come without a cost.

As I stood in the shower this morning I pondered how long I would be able to breastfeed my six month old daughter. In the past week I’ve noticed my breasts aren’t as engorged as they used to be. They are starting to flatten out on the top and my bras aren’t filling out as much. When I pump, I’m not even getting a full feeding, and just last weekend I depleted the breast milk storage. I am a full time Mom with the exception of two days a week when I have a babysitter for six hours. This means I have to pump 2-3 feedings for each of those days. That’s a lot of pumping! When I’m home with my daughter, I don’t really keep a schedule. I did with my son, but he was a much different baby. He was fussier, I was sleepier, and keeping a schedule was a necessity for my sanity. I also supplemented with formula when he was 5 months old at the advice of a woman who was helping me sleep train him. He seemed fussy when I breastfed him and she suggested he wasn’t getting enough milk. She recommended I start pumping and monitoring how much he was eating. It was soon after that I started supplementing because he was eating far more than I realized, and I couldn’t keep up. Maybe that’s what’s happening now with my daughter?! When I’m home with her I just feed her “on demand”. When she’s fussy or she’s having trouble falling asleep, or when I want to sooth her (or myself), breastfeeding is my secret weapon (probably the number one reason to breastfeed in my opinion…love that secret weapon!). But the babysitter doesn’t have that secret weapon, so I have to make sure she has milk to spare!

The thing about pumping is, it’s a pain in the butt. Even if you have the all-important breast-pumping bra and put on your favorite reality show, it’s still a pain. And it’s humiliating…even if you’re in a room by yourself. There’s just nothing attractive about pumping. Ask most Moms; it’s pumping that makes breastfeeding feel like a burden. Just when you want to have NOTHING to do, you have to pump! WA WA WA WA WA WA (that’s the sound of the breast pump)!

So I sat there in the shower contemplating whether now was the time to start supplementing. I don’t know why, but when women go from solely breastfeeding to using formula it feels like some judgment is coming down and the guilt sets in. Will my baby get fat now (I know, very superficial and unimportant!)? Will she immediately grow up? Will we lose our bond? Will she be like every other baby? Will I be less of an earth Mother? When you do something that is so natural for so long, it is difficult to consider things any other way. But sometimes necessity takes the choice out of our hands.

So there I was, in the shower examining my breasts, noticing how UNfull of milk they felt, and I knew I had an event to go to which would take me away from my baby for four hours. I got out of the shower and was already pressed for time. I put on my breast pumping bra and my robe and affixed all the necessary gear and starting pumping. Since I was short for time, I blew dry my hair at the same time (gotta love the multi-tasking – I’ve also danced and pumped at the same time – now that takes skill)….As I was pumping and blow drying (working up a sweat I might add), I hear someone knocking at the door downstairs. The dogs start barking. It’s the babysitter and a painful reminder of how little milk is coming out and the decision I’m going to be faced with momentarily. I start sweating more. I have so much to do before I have to leave and I have to arrive at this event on time. No milk is coming. I have thirty minutes before I have to leave. I have to finish my hair, get dressed, pay the garage door repair guys who have been in my house all day, prep the sitter for the afternoon (she is a new sitter by the way)…no milk……… And, finally, I have a moment. I turn off the blow dryer and look in the mirror at myself. I look like a machine with all the breast pumping equipment hanging off me. My breast are sagging. There isn’t any milk in there right now. I know what I need to do, and I finally accept it. Formula. Why am I stressing myself out? Pushing myself up against a wall? I have worked hard to breastfeed and pump and take care of my baby for six months. And I’ve done a great job. She’s amazingly healthy and beautiful. I’m a good Mom. I WANT to continue breastfeeding her and I will. But at this moment, it is what it is, and there isn’t enough milk. My decision is made and I’m at peace with it. But it’s not without some sadness. The babysitter comes in my room and she asks about the feeding schedule. I tell her there isn’t really one. I just know when she’s hungry and I feed her. She asks where the milk is. I show her the barely 3 ounces I just pumped and I point to the can of formula. This will be the first time I say. And there’s silence. And then I start justifying it. She is very understanding, but part of me feels like I’m failing…like I’m letting HER down. I’m going to keep breastfeeding her I insist! Why do I have to prove anything to anyone anyway? But I do. I love breastfeeding my daughter. But I know when enough is enough, and I’ve put myself under enough pressure. It’s time to let myself off the hook. So we make a bottle of formula and went to my event.

I really enjoyed the event. I enjoyed being dressed up and out on the town as a woman, an adult…not a Mom. When it came time to go home, I didn’t want to. I was enjoying myself. I wanted to stay out longer. But duty called. I went home and found my babysitter feeding my baby the bottle of formula. She took it fine. I knew she would. Later that night I breastfed her to sleep and pumped afterward. And this morning I breastfed her again.

I am starting to realize that as a Mom, AND as a person, I have to find balance and give myself a break. If I pressure myself too much about anything, it will take away from the enjoyment of everything. I would rather enjoy breastfeeding my daughter when I can and not worry about it when I can’t. I am lucky, I know, to be able to breastfeed her at all. And I am grateful for that.

WHEN THE HUSBAND'S AWAY........

Ok ladies, I’ve been with my husband for six years, married for four. He is a really good husband and has never done anything to cause me to mistrust him. Yet, whenever he goes out of town, I inevitably lose it. What do I mean by this? I get highly anxious if he doesn’t call or doesn’t answer his cellphone, or if he sounds like he’s having too good of a time. Why can’t I just let him have a good time already??!!! Afterall, my husband is NOT one of these guys that does this often, parties like a rockstar, goes out excessively with guy friends, plants himself on the couch for hours watching tv, or worse yet, on the computer playing xgames (yes, I recently talked to a mom friend who said her husband spends HOURS a DAY playing xbox on the internet. Uh, hello divorce court!!!.....to each their own I guess). So my husband is NOT a slacker, cheater or even remotely irresponsible, so again, why can’t I just let him have a good time already? Well, the answer is simple. I have abandonment issues. And for those of you that have any “issues” (I know, none of you do right?!), you know that “issues” rarely ground themselves in logic, rationale or justice. So, as a result of my abandonment issues, my husband often gets unfairly tried for committing no crime. All I can say is that when he goes out of town and doesn’t call within 24 hours, I know rationally that he is busy or preoccupied or doesn’t think he needs to call, or, god forbid, is just having fun. I know he isn’t holed up with a hooker (sorry to be so crass)…..but the way I physiologically react, you’d think he was.

TEXT ME MOMMY

As I sit here on my MAC Notebook, which is on my desk, in front of my MAC Desktop…and next to me sits my Blackberry Bold (or is it the Tour, or the whatever-else-brands-they-have), I wonder if technology is a good thing or a bad thing? My to-do list is never done. I need a to-do list for my to-do list. I have so many iPhoto projects ½ done – books I have made on both iPhoto and Snapfish - photos I constantly debate whether to send to Flicker or Costco or just post on Facebook…so much technology, so many projects, so many decisions, so little time = nothing gets done. Who can keep up with it??!!!! And then my husband comes home and tells me he’s doing something (a “technology experiment” he calls it) called 4 square. He goes places (Starbucks, the gym, etc.) and “checks in”. Other people go places and “check in”, and it’s a way of god knows what (to let people you know, know where you are at all times??!!!!) Creepy! That is just WAY TO MUCH INFORMATION for people who have WAY TOO MUCH TIME.

Me? I’m just trying to write thank you notes. Remember those? I have thank you notes with my daughter’s name, thank you notes with my son’s name (oh, by the way, my daughter is 5 months and my son is 3 years – but, yes, they have personalized stationary) and thank you notes with my name, mine and my husband’s names…. No, I don’t have them with our dog’s names, but I may as well. I owe thank you notes for my son’s birthday (back in June), my daughter’s birth (further back than June), my birthday…I mean come on! Can’t someone call Amnesty on thank you card writing and give us all a break? I need UPS packages to send all my thank you notes because the same people are getting all of them! Or could I just send an email? No, that is where technology does not help. But you get my point. And some people wonder why they never get a phone call. Should they call my home phone, cellphone, text me, email me, Facebook me?! Bottom line is, they have to STALK me just to get in touch with me. There are so many ways to reach me, yet no way at all. I’m too damned busy doing nothing.

Ok, you guys get my point. Everyday I think to myself “I just want to be a Mom today. I want to be fully present for my kids”. And then something happens and takes me away from that moment. Welcome to our world. How many moms do you see at the park texting? Emailing? Forget talking on their cellphones. Now their fingers are doing the talking. And we don’t even REALIZE how this is effecting our kids. That’s the scary part. We always talk about how our kids are sponges. Well, guess what their little eyes are seeing 24/7? Mommies, Daddies and even illegal Nannies (I’m not trying to be politically incorrect here, just honest) completely engrossed in a world they know nothing about – because their world is all about the immediate. A ladybug crawling across the playground, a loud airplane flying through the sky, a leaf blowing in a tree, how their butt feels careening down a hot slide on a summer day…. Thank god for children. Thank god they remind us of the simple things. Things about life that have never changed and hopefully never will. Things you can’t text, email or post on Facebook…and things we adults, and parents in particular, desperately need to get back in touch with.

What were Moms like before cellphones? Have you ever thought about that? They must have played with their kids more, laughed more, appreciated more…maybe they even watched those ladybugs and leaves. If they weren’t distracted by technology….what were they doing at the park? Maybe being so involved with their kids, they felt like kids themselves.

Yesterday I was at the beach with my girlfriend. We were there with our two 3 year old sons. I was on my Blackberry (as I often am) and she was technology-free (ok, I’ll fall for the modern day trap of shortening something and making it sound so catchy – “T-FREE” – how’s that Brangelina??!!) What was she thinking-my friend-being T-FREE?! At one point she said, “Molly, look at the boys rolling in the sand!” and I lifted my head up for the cursory glance, and then back down to my phone. I think she was sending me a bigger message than that. “Molly, you are missing out on your son’s childhood, his gleeful exuberance.” And the message came through loud and clear and more rapid than a text message.

THE EVOLVING MOM

So, I have been blogging lately about being a Bad Mom. By Bad Mom I don’t mean that I’m REALLY a bad Mom. I don’t abuse or neglect my child or anything like that. But there are plenty of days when I size myself up and just plain don’t MEASURE UP. I constantly tell myself I should be playing with my son more – heck, I should WANT to play with my son more – that I should have more patience and more desire to “just” be a Mom. These THOUGHTS are what make me feel like a Bad Mom. Cuz “Good” Moms always want to play with their kids, and do it often, have an abundance of patience and are always in healthy communication with their child (ie. Not yelling or loosing it…or crying infront of their kid BECAUSE of their kid…which I’ve done a couple times lately)…. You get my drift. It’s the Good Mom vs. Bad Mom wars. And the 64,000 question is…what makes a good Mom anyway and who’s to judge? Some days I wish there were some all powerful Oz watching over me and announcing in an ominous voice “You were a Bad Mom today”….or “You were a Good Mom today” so I wouldn’t have to constantly wonder. I’d have some way to measure. But lately I’ve been feeling like I’m actually a pretty good Mom. Now, this could be because my son is not acting out as much (I barely survived the past couple months of terrible two terrorist torture- you know the 4 T’s – don’t ya Moms?!) But my son is easier now, communicates more, OBEYS more and therefore, I am a better Mom. I love how that works. He’s not a better kid, I’m a better Mom. And, I’m pregnant, in my second trimester, so I’m in this state of nesting bliss. Even my husband said “You’re always in a good mood”. Now, if you only knew how out of the ordinary that is. I mean, those words would typically NEVER come out of his mouth! So maybe it’s pregnancy hormones, but lately I don’t really feel right calling myself a Bad Mom. So, this made me starting thinking about WHAT kind of Mom I am (cuz I need a label, ya know?!) And I got to thinking about how I’ve evolved as a Mom. I started out feeling like I needed to break out of prison. I couldn’t even be home all day with my newborn without leaving the house. I didn’t have a job, but I would pretend I was on maternity leave to trick myself that there was a light at the end of the tunnel. An escape hatch to Motherhood. Almost the entire first year of my son’s life I would have a conversation going on in my head – while I was at the park, while I was changing my son’s diaper, while I was feeding my son, while I was having sex with my husband (ok, not then….just wanted to make sure you were paying attention)…. And the conversation would go something like “This is not enough. I can’t believe this is what you’re doing with your life. This is ALL you’re doing. You should be doing more. You’re wasting yourself/your life.” I don’t want my kids to read this one day and think I regreted having them or being a Mom. It wasn’t about that at all. I loved my son dearly (and still do, even after his terrible two’s)… It was about me EVOLVING into this identity of full time Mom. Before I had kids, I was 100% career driven. That defined me. Ever since I graduated college I was like a race horse looking for a track. Money driven, success driven, power driven, you name it. I was in several different industries and was on a constant search for that “thing” I was meant to do with my life. I always knew I wanted to have kids, but I never dreamed of or planned on being a “stay at home Mom”. In fact, I wondered how someone could be happy doing that. I guess I always imagined being a working Mom. Truth is, I didn’t have a plan. But as fate would have it, I was working in the Mortgage industry before I got married, and after a 3 year run and 1 million dollars later (I got in when the going was GOOD), I lost my job and discovered I was never passionate about it in the first place. Then, an unexpected turn of events! My husband and I got married on The Today Show. That is a WHOLE other story – see Today Show Throws a Wedding BLOG – and I quit the mortgage business and never looked back. After our Today Show Wedding, I decided to pursue my long term dream of being a television personality. I was going to be the next Oprah! Now I know better (visit my How I Became A TV Host BLOG). But the unexpected twist in THAT plan was getting pregnant. Yup, after 37 years of trying NOT to get pregnant, I didn’t know if I could. So I never thought that the first time would be the charm. But sure enough, in the comfort of the Club Quarters hotel in New York, and during the Today Show Wedding competition, my husband and I conceived our first child, Hudson. We didn’t know I was pregnant until after the wedding and honeymoon (maybe my son is a thrill seeker because I bungee jumped from 400+feet with him in my womb on our honeymoon!)… So, my plans of getting an agent and a TV gig were temporarily put on hold. But I did find Marki Costello’s hosting school and began building my craft as a TV host. But I disgress, this whole blog is about EVOLVING. And, really, how I evolved from a hard core career person to a stay at home Mom. Because, for me anyway, Motherhood is a constant state of evolution. Some might say it’s an attempt to achieve balance, but what’s that? As soon as you have balance, something changes, and you’re out of balance again. So I don’t strive to have balance. I strive to evolve, to keep evolving, and to roll with and adapt to the evolution. At first I couldn’t imagine being a stay home Mom. Then I grew into it and developed an appreciation for it, and learned what I needed to do to be true to myself in the process (continuing to pursue my dream of being on TV). Then I got my body back and my energy back and I felt like my old self again, wanting to do the things my “old self” did – the pre-Mommy me. And then I got pregnant again. Back to the drawing board. Now I once again am redefining myself and my purpose. I can’t drink, I can’t dance on tabletops, I can’t run a marathon. I have a baby growing in my body. I have lost a sense of self, but I am gaining a much better part of myself – a new child. And I know the day will come again when I will have my body back (to myself) and feel like my old self again…and I’m sure I’ll have to go through several iterations of evolution before that happens. And that’s ok. Like I said, Evolution.

RANDOM ACTS OF BONDING

RANDOM ACTS OF BONDING

Motherhood is not all bad, and I’m not really a bad Mom. You know that saying “Life happens when you’re planning it?” What I’ve learned is that Motherhood happens when you aren’t trying to be a good Mom. It’s the moments in between the moments. We think it’s the times when we make sure our children eat well, take a good nap, have plenty of play time and social interaction and we teach them the alphabet. But what I’ve learned is it’s probably not those times. They’ll get all that in school and life regardless of how neurotic we are about it. What they can’t get in school in life is the precious moments we share with them. The unexpected, unplanned moments….the RANDOM ACTS OF BONDING that happen when we least expect them. The moments between the moments. I just had one tonight. It’s Christmas time and my husband calls it the Mollidays. Needless to say, I go a little crazy this time of year. It’s as if the whole year is leading up to this one month for me. My focus today was on getting the Christmas tree, hanging decorations and getting everything just right. Of course I was yelling at my son for playing with my ornaments and wanting to help me decorate the tree. Well, not really yelling at him, but at the very least, caring more about getting my decorations just right than letting him contribute to the process. BAD MOM! At the end of the day, I was so tired. Not tired from playing with my son and giving him my undivided attention, but tired from the Mollidays and my overzealous decorating. I could barely wait for my son to go to sleep, like the end of most days. Infact, I wanted a break so bad that when I put him in the bath, I slipped into the next room to watch Entertainment Tonight. Ok, I may be a bad Mom at times, but I’m not negligent. I could see him in the reflection of my bathroom mirror, and I was just in the adjoining bedroom. But nonetheless, I basked in entertainment news and gossip – the latest upate on how many women Tiger Woods cheated on his wife with and how much she was increasing her prenup demands to (good stuff!) while my son bathed. All I could think while I was doing this was “my nanny, who gives my son her 24/7 undivided attention, would like this bordered on child abuse” I could just hear her thoughts (and my own judgement on myself, really)….Look at that adorable boy, all alone in the tub, while his Mother just neglects him. Did I mention my Nanny’s a better Mom than me? Anyway, my son crawled out of the tub and my break and temporary entertainment fix came to an abrupt end. I took him downstairs and tried to get him in pajamas. The operative word here – TRIED. No luck and I didn’t feel like chasing him down, so I went in the other room to see if I could get him to eat dinner. Probably not since I filled him up on snacks earlier just to distract him while doing my Christmas decorating. So, in all my avoiding-being-a-Mom moments, they all added up to the most important moment of all. My son ran out of his room, naked, to find me in the kitchen. He had with him a basketball –an early Xmas present he gave to himself (you try keeping toys away from a 2 year old). I don’t know what got into me – perhaps a moment of presence – of actually wanting to be a Mom, but I got down on the ground and starting playing ball with my son. We started out rolling the ball back and forth. Then we starting throwing it to each other. Then I started showing him some basketball tricks (I tried out for the team but never made it). I showed him dribbling and tossing the ball in the air and catching it. He excitedly mimicking everything I did. I’d do it and pass the ball to him and he’d do it. He’d say “You’re turn”! And I’d go next and so on. I sat there, across from my son, and the exchange between us was so mutual and so gratifying. Me watching him copy everything I did, try new things, learn new things….me just reveling in him…. Now, that’s what Motherhood is ALL about.

AM I A BAD MOM?!

Am I bad Mom??
I’m pregnant with my second child. This is something I really wanted. My husband and I tried to get pregnant for six months. I used everything – pee sticks, fertility monitor and I practically forced my husband to have sex with me when I was ovulating. I DID force my husband to have sex with me when I was ovulating. Heck, I forced MYSELF. Show me a Mom out there that WANTS to have sex! : ) Ok, my neighbor Jeannine doesn’t count. Then two of my close girlfriends got pregnant and they were all giddy about it. I was so happy for them, but sad for myself. I was worried I couldn’t get pregnant again. I got pregnant so easily with my first child (the first try!), but I was 3 years younger and I’m 40 now! I had heard stories of women saying they had their first right away and it took them 2 years to get pregnant again. I was anxious about my children being too far apart in age. Looking back, all this worry was so silly! Not because I got pregnant but because it was ridiculous I was counting the months that were passing as if 1-2 months difference was actually going to dramatically alter the closeness between my two children. Almost immediately after my two close friends announced they were pregnant, they announced they miscarried. BOTH of them. And then I got pregnant. So now I’ve gotten what I want and I’m really having a hard time with it. Not the idea of being pregnant, just BEING pregnant. At first I felt fantastic, to the point I was boasting about it. I don’t even feel pregnant! Infact, I feel like I have MORE energy! And then it hit. Around 6 weeks. Like a ton of bricks. From six weeks on I feel sick, nauseous, exhausted, MOODY….downright depressed at times. I was discontent with everything – didn’t want to be a Mom, didn’t like my house….evertying had this distaste to it – food, life, people. I holed up and hid out. I didn’t feel like being social. It was all I could do to take care of my son and make it to nap. And after nap seemed like forever until my husband got home to take over. I couldn’t be around food and still can’t. I know this is all part of it, but right now I really don’t like being pregnant. I’m not excited. I’m just slogging through it. One day, sometimes one activity at a time. I told my husband I feel like sitting in an air conditioned skybox and watching my life, not participating in it. I don’t feel emotion for things – highs and lows. I just feel neutral or bad. The joy is not there right now. I have fleeting moments of feeling. Like pride when I watched my son take his swim lesson or eat dinner with us at a sushi restaurant…. But overall I just feel a bit dead inside.

WHO SAID PREGNANCY IS SEXY?

I went to the Mall today, something I try to avoid doing as a full time Mom, just because I find it kind of depressing. Anything that seems cliche to do as a full time Mom I sort of avoid (because I'm always in denial that I have nothing better to do). But today seemed like a good day. It was overcast and "wintery" out and it seemed fun to peruse the stores in search of something new to pep up the house or something we had to have for the holidays. It's also a great little mall for Hudson to run around. After an hour of puttering around, the trip didn't prove to be all that inspiring. Maybe because I'm pregnant and didn't want to buy anything for my overgrowing self. Which brings me to the real topic of today's blog. Right now I don't want to be pregnant. I mean, I do. I want to have another child. I want to expand our family. I want to give Hudson a sibling. All that is good. I just don't want to be pregnant. And the funny thing is, before I was pregnant, I couldn't wait to be pregnant again. The grass is always greener. But seriously, the first trimester really sucks. I am sick, tired, moody and just overall have a sense of feeling "down". It's like there's this malaise over everything that just makes me feel mildly discontent about everything. And I can't bother buying something cute to make me feel sexy and whole, because I'm only going to get bigger. So here I am, roaming the mall in some faded, stretched out sweat pants, a white tank top and my Uggs boots - feeling like crap, looking like crap, but not feeling inspired to do anything about it. Who said Pregancy is sexy anyway?