There is a baby clothing and diaper bag brand called "Eleanor" that is named after artist Eleanor Grotch. She creates these animal designs that are really cool and vibrant. The best part is that there is a label on the outside of the items that (surprise!) reads "ELEANOR." Each time I have seen Eleanor items for sale at a store I get all excited like a total dork and an urgent pang instantly grabs me and yells, "YOU MUST BUY THIS FOR YOUR BABY BECAUSE IT HAS HER NAME ON IT!" Luckily I have only come across the brand two times, and the last time was at Tuesday Morning so the clothes were relatively inexpensive. I got her pj's that were size 12 months and put them out of sight in her "future clothes" drawer. I combed through the drawer yesterday, held the pj's up to the baby, and OH NO!!!! They are already too small for her! So, well...crap. Sure we can save these pj's for our next child, but it's not like his or her name is going to be Eleanor as well, is it? I squeezed her into the them using a shoe horn so they could at least get one night of wear. So here is Eleanor, in kick ass pajamas. Let's pretend she got to wear them more than once, ok?
At 14 weeks pregnant, I've developed a lovely belly paunch that becomes more pronounced as the day progresses. I start off the day in a non-pregnant body and then climb into bed at night clutching the "gas baby" that has emerged. During one of these gas baby evenings I turned to my husband and asked him if stranger would think I was pregnant. He considered this for a minute before replying,
"Well, not pregnant. But...they may just think you look a little pudgy."
I took no offense to this- I wanted my hubbie to tell it to me straight. Because I do look pudgy- as someone would who has been at the mercy of disgustingly unhealthy food in order to get through a day. Blech. Hello 10 pounds.
ANYWAYS, this leads me into the subject of this email. Pants. A few weeks ago, all of my pants suddenly became too tight, and my first maternity-type purchase (which I planned for the day of our first ultrasound) was a Bella Band, which allows you to conceal the fact that your pants are unbuttoned or unzipped. Smart thinking, whoever came up with that one.
A couple of weeks ago, I realized that I had reached an point of no return with my blue jeans, even with a Bella Band. So I went out and bought two pairs of Old Navy maternity jeans, which are the cat's meow. Let me tell you, after these, I don't think I will ever go back to normal jeans again. Ever. They're still pretty cute and fit well, but have a stretchy waistband, so you don't feel like you have to suck in your gut when they're on. One pair are low-rise, and these would be ideal for wearing regardless of whether or not you're pregnant. The other pair have the gigantic bib-like fabric that pulls up to your chest, Steve Urkel-style. Probably not something you'd grab at non-pregnancy times, but heck, for lounging around the house, they'd probably still work. Awesome pants-moment #1 (pictured below are the cool low-risers).
My second pants-related enjoyment came this week at work, where there was a scrubs sale for nurses. Now, I am not a nurse, nor do I have the opportunity to wear scrubs at work (this ability would really complete my life, by the way). But the thought of lounging around this summer with a pair of extra-stretchy scrub pants sounded too good to pass up, so I went and got myself a pair. This fulfilled my awesome pants-moment #2.
THEN, as though my lounging pants-spree could not get any better, I received a pajamagram package from my mother-in-law for Mother's Day (how sweet is that?) containing a pair of pajamajeans! Yes, pajamajeans, pajama pants with the style and fit of jeans. They are so soft and stretchy. You know those days where you stay in your fat pants and begin feeling like a total lazy bum around 4pm? Well, now with pajamajeans you feel like you're dressed to go out (psst! but you're really not!). These will do wonders for my psyche!!! Awesome pants-moment #3!!!
Now, often in life we follow the "one step forward, two steps back" model. As you can see, these pants are all for casual and lounge-around-the-house wear. None of these options work so much for where I spend the majority of my time- the office. I have had zilch luck in finding good maternity work pants. I checked out both Gap and Old Navy, and all their work pants looked hideous on me AND the Gap pants were really expensive. I went to a maternity place here in Roscoe Village which definitely catered to individuals not stuck on a genetic counselor salary. Their tops ran about $80, and I couldn't even find good business-casual pants anyways. Sigh. Meanwhile, I will peruse leads on craigslist, and see if I can drag myself to a Target.
Sorry, Boss. If this fails, you'll soon find me prancing to work wearing bib overalls (cue the Green Acres theme).
My teeth have turned to mashed potato mush. Growing up, I had teeth of steel. Even after 5 years of braces (my glamour years) I had no cavities. Then two years ago I went to a new dentist for a cleaning. After much head shaking, they led me to a dimly lit room and, with soothing music playing in the background, informed me that I had SEVEN cavities. SEVEN. So many that I would need two visits to get them filled. One by one they brought up my xrays on their fancy screen. Which really wasn't necessary- OK, OK, GOT IT- I HAVE CAVITIES. I SUCK. No need to rub it in my face by pointing out the dreaded plaque burrowing through my enamel with your laser pointer.
I will not lie. This kind of demoralized me. Driving home after that appointment I called several people for moral support. Did this mean I was a bad person? Was I leading my body to an early grave? Screw it, maybe I should just start smoking and injecting illicit drugs to speed things up? Honestly, I don't understand how this has happened. Me with my fancy Sonicare toothbrush. Me with my regular flossing. Me with my love of milk. When I talked to a different dentist about it at my last visit, he gave me some truly half-assed response about how people today are getting more cavities because of our reliance on bottled water. Cool dude, except that I never DRINK bottled water (you think I'd waste my money on bottled water? pshaw!).
My pride healed somewhat with time. But then last night I returned for another routine cleaning (what moron schedules a teeth cleaning on a Friday night? Oh wait- me) and was informed I need another THREE fillings. They even offered to fill them right then and there. While it was tempting to get this next stage of misery over with, the thought of spending my entire Friday evening with this dentist did not appeal to me one ounce.
So I ran out of there (I get to go back next Thursday-yay!) and instead met my husband at Whole Foods. Friday night was getting even better- first the dentist, then a grocery store! But holy cow has anyone been to the new Whole Foods at North Avenue and Sheffield? The original location for this Whole Foods was closed down a couple of times by the Health Department for a little nuisance they like to call a rat infestation. This new fancy store is something else. First of all, at the entrance is a BAR. Like with a mahogany finish and beer taps and flat screen tv's. And it looked like people actually met up there just for the bar- at a Whole Foods! People browse the aisles while carrying their pint glasses. Deeper into the store is a WINE bar. Again, people all dressed to the nines on a Friday night, sitting in the middle of a Whole Foods sipping wine. I would have taken pictures, but I know that Whole Foods does not enjoy that. We took a photography class last December, and two members of our class were asked to leave the local Whole Foods during one of our photography assignments. And you wouldn't want to get kicked out of this Whole Foods. No sir.
Jim had his bike with him, and after our shop we parted ways so I could head back to the dingy disgusting why-does-that-puddle-never-go-away North and Clybourn red line stop (good God if Chicago gets the Olympics, will they at least re-do the red line?). Well, on this walk I passed the Express store on North. All I saw were red "Sale" signs. Even with that, I kept walking. Then I stopped. It may have been the failure I felt because of my teeth. It may have been the fancy feeling I felt just from walking through that beautiful Whole Foods. But my body was hit with this incredible urge to shop NOW. Buy nice clothes NOW. ON SALE.
So I did a pivot turn right into that store. And of course I got one of those good sales ladies who was all, "do you need another size? have you seen our skirts are also on sale? Oh, you're looking for work clothes? Let me HELP" and doesn't make you feel like a loser for not being able to even remember the last time you bought work clothes. Jim, who stopped to get us some hamburgers from Five Guys, gets a text from me that reads "GONE SHOPPING" which is all I could manage to get out while carrying our Whole Foods eggs and oranges and my accumulating pile of clothes. And when I stumbled through our door an hour later, arms shaking from carrying my purchases, I found my hamburger warming in the oven and my wonderfully supportive husband didn't flinch a muscle when I told him how much I spent but rather told me that I needed clothes, and it was absolutely fine.
And with that, I went to bed. Without flossing.
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