Desperate Times Call for...Salad

Today I loaded the kids and we drove a whole 3.5 miles to the locally-famous Caioti Pizza Cafe in Studio City.  This small restaurant located across the street from the restaurant Robert Blake made famous, Vitello's, is known for it's labor-inducing salad.  I know it sounds crazy, if you search the restaurant's name or "labor salad" online, the two are found side-by-side throughout the web.  The labor-inducing property is supposed to be the dressing. 

I'm not at my due date yet, but this is the farthest I've gotten in either of my other two pregnancies and I can honestly say that I am beyond miserable.  My back and ribs are killing me and I feel like the baby has a foot just below my arm pit.  I'm tired...really tired and in constant pain.  Already, little baby "C" is bigger than my other boys were when they were born and in my book...he's ready to come out.

I ordered a half order of "the salad" and a cheese pizza for us to split.  The salad was served up with to log books and other literature attesting to its success.  I'm not going to lie, the salad was amazingly delicious...and that's not just the pregnancy appetite talking.  The boys played with their toys while I mowed down "the salad" and filled in my own page of the infamous journal.  While I was eating it, I noticed an older couple in the corner of the restaurant anxiously watching me, as if I was going to go into labor and push out the baby with the aid of the young, way-too-cool wait staff.

The waiter enthusiastically told me that just yesterday he served a woman her salad and after eating it her water broke at the restaurant before she and her husband had finished their meals.  It's been about three hours and I've felt no contractions.  My water has not broken.  In fact, I don't feel any different than before lunch--still miserable.  Now I'm wondering if I should have ordered a whole salad instead of half a salad.  I'm also wondering if it's just the law of averages when it comes to "the salad."  When you have that many women in the final days and weeks of their pregnancies ordering the same thing, you are bound to have some of them go into labor soon thereafter, right? 

Nonetheless, in the days or weeks (oh don't let it be weeks...) of my final pregnancy, I am glad that I have taken part in an L.A. tradition.  And here's to the labor-inducing salad.  Everyone cross your fingers (please!) that it works tonight!

Oh, Maternity Clothes!

Dear Maternity Clothes,

I'd like to start this letter by saying that I understand that you have a very difficult job. You have the task of clinging on and/or around an ever-changing belly, spreading butt, and expanding bust. I understand that you are covering the body of a very over-emotional woman who seems to have lost all sense of ability to not spill food all over herself or be able to hold her pee every time she coughs and sneezes.

Here's the thing, Maternity Clothes. Why do you have to be so damn ugly and unflattering. I mean seriously. Is it so hard to get a properly placed crotch on a pair of jeans? Is it that hard to mimic regular jeans? Are large ruffles necessary? I recently won some "high end" maternity clothes in a blog giveaway. While I'm thankful for the new clothes, the apparel (which is proudly designed by women who have never had children), have giant ruffles on them and one of the "stylish" dresses looks like a horrible bag. Do you know what those ruffles do to a pregnant woman? My big belly simply pushes those ruffles into the faces of oncoming pedestrians. Oh, and the bag dress makes me look like a black and white weather balloon with pockets.

This time around, my last time around, I've opted to wear as many nonmaternity clothes as possible. After having dealt with you in two other pregnancies, Maternity Clothes, I have decided that enough is enough and I'm simply not going to tolerate you. This time around, I purchased very few of you and opted to hunt down regular, nonmaternity clothes that were forgiving. Your ugliness, terrible fit, and poor quality found you out of much of your normal work this time around.

Good riddens,
Me

P.S.
I you have not been pregnant, you should not be able to design maternity clothes. Women modeling maternity clothes should be pregnant--and not just a little pregnant, but REALLY pregnant. And finally, if you are going to design maternity clothes, please try them on pregnant women of all ages and stages before pushing them on the public!

One Big Ball of Hormones

I'm now 32 weeks pregnant and I can honestly say that I am one big ball of very emotional hormones. I feel like I have the worst case of PMS on the planet. My fuse is short. I've been crying all day. I've gotten frustrated by the simplest things. I feel like I'm going to jump out of my skin. (That's a fun one.) You know, as if it's not bad enough that I'm swollen (I'm telling myself I'm swollen even though I know I'm actually just FAT), uncomfortable, and achy from my giant belly, but I have the added bonus of being an emotional wreck as well?! I mean come on!!!!

To all of you out there who just LOVED being pregnant, I just don't get it. I mean...really? You "loved" it? Which parts exactly? You "loved" the food aversions? You adored swollen feet and/or ankles? You thought watching your otherwise flat stomach turn into a veiny beach ball was totally hot? Please tell me which part you loved. I'm dying to hear the great part.

Look, I know that the great part of pregnancy comes at the end when I get to meet my beautiful new baby boy and hold him in my arms (and smell like breastmilk and look like a train wreck for the next 9-12 months), but all that aside, let's be real. God must be a man because a woman would never make another woman go through the agony of pregnancy considering what you have to go through with a newborn in the aftermath.

I'm just sayin'.