What Makes a Mommy?

I suppose it comes as no surprise that I've got a lot of questions related to this whole mommyhood thing. Fortunately, I have a handful of friends who have been inordinately helpful answering my incessant barrage of questions, (however neurotic). Eva, Jen, Dori, Lara, Jacqui - I'm talking about you.

Anyway, there are a few questions that nobody can really answer - like whether or not I'll be a quote, unquote good mommy.

Sure, people tell me I will be - but honestly, who the hell knows?  And... what really defines a good mommy anyway?

I never called my own mom, mommy. She was always just mom. I'm not sure if that was her preference or if that was just what I opted to call her. I hope to be called mommy. There's something more endearing about it - and indicative that your child trusts that you will protect and love them, no matter what.

This isn't to say that I didn't love and trust my mom. I absolutely did and do. While she makes me positively crazy sometimes, I adore her. In fact, I think she deserves to be called mommy, but it's a little late for that.

I also didn't always think she was cut out to be a mom - let alone a mommy. In fact, (and she'll probably deny this), over champagne one day, she admitted to wondering whether or not she would have even had children had things been different back then. In other words, children were expected. You got married, you had kids - and that was that.

Given my own hesitation about whether or not to kid, I wholeheartedly respected her admission. Needless to say, I'm glad she opted to kid. But honestly, my mom wasn't what one would call your typical mom - let alone mommy. She didn't dress or behave like other moms. With her bright orange nails and lips, her elegant yet funky and artistic ensembles, her perfectly coiffed hair, her very left-of-center interior design stylings and her addiction to Jaguars, she just wasn't the PTA, brownie-baking, station wagon-driving, soccer-mom type. The fact that she actually participated in a carpool was nothing short of stupefying.

Let me make this abundantly clear. I am not complaining. When I was young, there were moments where I sort-of wished she blended in a bit more and did more mommy things, but what I didn't then realize was that she was her own brand of mommy. Unbeknownst to me, she was teaching me all about having your own identity and not letting others' judgments ruin your day... in essence... marching to the beat of your own drum.

I wouldn't have had it any other way.

Now, as I approach this whole mommyhood business, I can't help but wonder - What will my own little girl think of me? Will I be a good mommy?

I suppose only time will tell. Little does she know, she's definitely not getting the cookie cutter type.


It's Official... I'm Insane

The little girl isn't even close to being here yet and I'm already fraught with worry. Here's what I went through just prior to a week-long business trip to Montreal:

Why aren't my toxoplasmosis results back yet? What if I was exposed during pregnancy?

What if the cord gets tangled around her neck?

What if her widdle bitty heart just stops beating? It's so tiny. How does it even work yet?

Google: No heartbeat 14 weeks

Google: Miscarriage 14 weeks causes

Google: Miscarriage 15 weeks

Google: Missed miscarriage second trimester

Google: When will I feel my baby kick?

Google: At-home fetal heart monitor good bad?

Google: Toxoplasmosis exposure first trimester

Google: Toxoplasmosis exposure pre-pregnancy

Google: Toxoplasmosis symptoms

Google: Goddammit Google! Why can't you just tell me that my baby is going to be just fine and to stop fucking worrying myself (and possibly the baby) to death?

So, after a few days of pointless and unproductive worrying, I finally caved and reached out to my pal and phenomenal phlebologist at my OBGYN's office to see if I could squeeze in another sonogram before my trip to Montreal because...

a) I'm not a good flier and was already nervous enough about that.
b) I wasn't okay with going to Montreal without hearing her heartbeat again.

Fortunately, my insanity is not uncommon, and they had no problem with me coming in for a pre-Montreal sono.

Heartbeat was there... all looked good. THIRD Toxoplasmosis test came back and confirmed that yes, I had toxo at some point or another, (most likely years ago during my pro-cat days... not as hip on cats anymore), but fortunately, it was very much pre-pregnancy.

And then in Montreal, this happened!

Finally - a bit of a bump so I don't just look fat with gigantic boobs and big feet.

I'm back from Montreal - and just had the first anatomy scan. Little G is looking fabulous. Saw her hiccup and saw her widdle bitty hands and foots and everything!

Feeling pretty celebratory today.


Just Call Me Hobbit.

I've never had great feet. At 5'2", I'm a size 8, (large considering I'm vertically challenged) and my feet are flat and wide. As such, I live in heels. They add height, they give me an arch, they hide the excess foot length/width to some extent and they're just plain pretty. Also, I'm well-trained. I can practically jog in them - even in New York City.

Alas, I think those days will soon be behind me - at least for the duration of my baby-baking days.

At only 4-months pregnant, my feet are already turning against me. They're definitely quite swollen and I believe they're already a 1/2 size bigger. Now remember, they were too big for me to begin with - now it's just getting comical.

I am starting to resemble a hobbit, sans foot fur, though who knows what lay ahead?

I thought it might have been water retention or a blood pressure issue, but nope. Everything is clear. I'm healthy - blood pressure is totally in check, (110/70) I haven't put on more weight than I should have by now, (about 7 or 8 lbs.) I'm following a low sodium diet and drinking plenty of fluids - mostly water. Apparently, there's not much I can do to control this. I'm doomed. I hear whispers of crocs and flip-flops and my face forms a frown. Seriously, the thought of flats or anything that isn't flattering to my already-too-large feet depresses the living hell out of me.

I know I shouldn't be bitching, (after all, I didn't even have morning sickness), but seriously my feet have always been a problem and I'm sick of it. I've broken three toes on separate occasions,(shattered the big toe which I would advise avoiding if you can) and just last year had surgery to repair a hammertoe that was so painful I could barely wear shoes, heels or not. So, I'm sort of feeling a slight sense of entitlement in terms of hosting my own little bitch-fest about my feet, now that I'm plagued by yet another podiatry problem.

While my husband has affectionately called me his "Little Midget" since one of our first dates, I'm thinking that that might have to change as I quickly morph into a creature that Tolkien himself probably didn't think existed in real life. "Little Hobbit" seems redundant. Just call me Hobbit.


5 Things About Park Slope Parents That Make Me Cringe

Let me preface this post, (i.e. rant) by saying that I LOVE our neighborhood. Park Slope is pretty spectacular. The parks, the brownstones, the restaurants, the shops... you name it - there's a LOT to love. Perhaps that's why it has grown to be one of the most popular neighborhoods in Brooklyn - particularly for young families. What I am not a fan of however, are the typical Park Slope parents. Here's a brief overview of what drives me batshit insane about them - and a reasonable rationale for why we will likely be moving when our lease is up:

1. Taking up the entire sidewalk. I'm talking about parents and who walk in walls of three or more and/or entire families congregating together in herds disabling anyone from passing without stepping into the street. In the 'wall' scenario, usually one or both parents are texting while the kid haphazardly darts from one side to another, not even allowing for someone to pass on either side.

2. Kids on scooters. I cannot even tell you how often I see kids nearly run over innocent pedestrians' feet. I understand that Park Slope is a very kid-friendly environment, which is lovely and adorable even - but if your kid is on scooter racing down the sidewalk at breakneck speeds, please ensure that they know to look out for other human beings and to avoid hitting them AT ALL COSTS. They do not own the sidewalk, despite what you've led them to believe.

3. Kids in bars. I'm sorry - but a dimly lit bar is NO PLACE for a child. I don't care if it's Sunday at noon. Your kid doesn't belong in a bar where there are no tables for brunching and where the only food that is served is done so to cushion the blow of the massive amounts of booze hitting the stomachs of the mostly childless patrons. There are PLENTY of family friendly establishments all over Park Slope where you can order your child an appropriate breakfast, brunch or lunch and where you might even be able to imbibe something not so kid-friendly yourself.

4. Strollers the size of Mini Coopers. Seriously - when did it become not only acceptable but encouraged to wheel around a "stroller" that is larger than most people's bathrooms in NYC? Restaurants and boutiques are limited on space here, so parking one of these veritable vehicles inside of a busy restaurant is downright inconsiderate. They don't fold up, they are not, (by stroller standards) compact - and patrons and staff cannot maneuver around these things and nor should they have to. Taking up standing room for six on a crowded subway with one of these is also not acceptable, especially if you're carting around just ONE child.

5. An apparent and questionable hatred of ice cream. No, I'm not kidding. Pick your battles people and learn how to say NO.