Maternity Clothes Shopping for the First Timer

This past weekend I decided to embark on a new adventure - maternity clothes shopping... And I came to one conclusion: maternity clothes shopping is an evil little scheme. It can either make you feel gloriously skinny or like a beached whale. Rich but poor. Pick your poison based on where you go and what you try on. Check your ego in at the door for an emotional and physical rollercoaster ride.

1. “Hello, skinny and sexy pregnant lady.” Pants. Full panel, side panel, inset panel. Which do you choose? You find a store to try them on at and drive there in excitement (this IS a rarity). So, you wander to the hidden, unlabeled corner of the store, where you find the maternity section. PANTS! You begin to dig through all the piles - too many to count (because why would the maternity area be neatly kept?). You grab different styles in at least two sizes (if they have any or something close to what you normally would squeeze into). And finally, you head on over to the fitting room. Fitting room lady looks at you like you’ve grown a 2^nd head as she tries to see you through the pile of clothes in your arms. You deal with the debacle of “counting” how many items you have, and you turn red (you look a little too eager and excited about this shopping experience). Somehow, you survive and move into a tiny, overheated “room.” You begin to pull the jeans on and try to assess what panel, size, and/or style is right for you. You break a sweat. And then you start realizing, the sizing is out of whack. Some don’t fit, but the ones you like the fit for… are all a size or two SMALLER than normal. Hey now! You’re starting to feel pretty good. They even kind of fall off your butt (and after you buy them, they’re at your knees after two steps, of course). So, you’re feeling pretty good about yourself. Hello sexy mama – you’re not that fat (yet). You walk out to show your husband (who’s bored out of his mind). He approves. So you select some to buy and hesitantly, proceed. You’re a bit confused because you don’t know if you are buying the right size. What if you can’t fit into them in like two months? Because who are you kidding, you’re growing a bowling ball. You begin to have anxiety that buying smaller sizes is like begging to turn INTO a beached whale that you just realized, you’re not quite yet. And then the ego kicks in again, and hey – how can bad can it be if you’re fitting in smaller sizes? Look at how cute my butt looks (despite the rolls on my stomach that are supposedly a baby)! You’re looking good mama – you will look pregnant instead of 10 pounds overweight.
2.  “Warning: Beached whale ahead.” During the fitness routine called buying maternity clothes, you also have decided to try on tops. So, as you pull up the full panel pants to right underneath your boobs (which you realize is the most comfortable), you pull at one of the 10 tops you grabbed. And as you put your arms through and start shimmying the “shirt” down your upper half, the smaller pant size afterglow disappears as quickly as that frozen yogurt you inhaled the night before (and that you were hoping for as a treat later). You are trying to squeeze into a shirt that is “your size,” but you wouldn’t have squeezed into if you were 10 pounds thinner, pre-pregnancy. You look up in the mirror, and all you see are three misshapen lumps. You stare in amazement at how bad you look.  You’re having a baby, right? Because right now, you swear you look like you’ve put on a fat suit. Whoa. So you grab at another shirt, bigger size – phew! You don’t look bad, now it looks like you're pregnant, but this shirt isn’t going to last long. What the hell are you going to wear when you’re almost full term – e.g. *10* months pregnant? So, you sigh and waddle out to show your loving husband your potential new top – staring him down to make sure he only compliments you on your new “look.”
3. “Hello bankruptcy.” Maternity clothing pricing can eat through your savings in one credit card swipe to buy… 4 items… that you begrudgingly purchase because what else are you gonna wear? You have to wear something for some of these next several days, weeks, and/or months – depending on how big you get, which you really have no idea to predict, because… Every pregnancy is different! And if you get bigger, you just go back and buy more, right? Money well spent. And heaven forbid, you want to get something that is "nicer" than Target or Walmart. You have to take out a second mortgage because a pair of nice designer maternity jeans costs more than 2 normal pairs of jeans. (And yes - I ventured into the "designer" world.)
4.  “Good luck finding decent looking maternity clothes.” There are only like 5 stores that sell maternity clothes. Annnndddd best of luck finding the ones that carry maternity clothes IN STORE and IN STOCK! Because why would you want to try something on before you buy it? It has to be a marketing scheme. Maybe all these stores think that expecting ladies don’t sleep at night, so while housing a bag of chips or ice cream in the middle of the night, they're shopping online to feel better about themselves. They order online, and ta da, you didn’t even have to waddle to the store to get it. The stores are doing the pregnant ladies a favor! But of course, the “cute” outfit arrives, pregnant mama barely remembering she ordered it, and now, we encounter the sizing mess of before or worse, making THE decision. There’s this fine line to draw when you get into wearing maternity clothes – do you try to look cute or just find coverings for your 3-4 lumps on a log? What you’re buying isn't going to be flattering for long more than likely, if it even fits right now. And of course, if you order it online and decide to not keep it, you must return by mail. Waddling not avoided.

Double Down: "Alone Again, Naturally" and "Why Should I Care"

I've been listening to a lot of Diana Krall in the last week thanks to Spotify. I love that I can just play an artist's entire repetoire and discover both new goodies and oldies. Thanks Spotify!!! 

"Alone Again, Naturally"

Mrs. Krall recently released an album, Wallflower. It's a pretty good album overall - duets and covers of great songs. Welllll, I also discovered that she sang a duet of "Alone Again, Naturally" on the album with one of my ultimate faves, Mr. Michael Buble. Oh yes - you bet I did cartwheels when I found this goodie/oldie (in my mind at least). I discovered the original version of this song sung by Gilbert O'Sullivan driving to the airport one sunny Friday afternoon in Boise, Idaho, surfing the radio. No clouds - bright blue sky - and me driving some rental car. Road was empty, and I had the window open - a rarity for me. It must have been in the spring of 2008? I heard the voice and thought it was Paul McCartney, but maybe not? I'd never heard this song and kept wondering what album or time frame he would have sung this. So picture me, desperately trying to memorize the lyrics to the song that I'd randomly come upon as I scramble to get the airport (cause that's what consultants do - get to the airport at the last second). Needless to say - I figured it out and fell in love with the song. The song just reminds me of my time on the project in Boise. Lots of good and bad things happened on that project, but I'm better for it. This duet is gorgeous, and I've enjoyed listening to their voices recreate the gorgeous melody and story. 

"Why Should I Care" 

This afternoon, I was listening to one of Mrs. Krall's older albums. I listened to this album, When I Look in Your Eyes, a lot during my Senior year of highschool. Another trip down memory lane! And then, "Why Should I Care" came on. Zoom to March-April 2006 - the time during and right after the break up with my ex. I usually think back on that time around this time of year because it was probably one of the most emotionally painful periods of my life. I was hurt, betrayed, and angry on top of a lot of other emotions that I don't care to describe. I remember playing this song over and over again at the apartment that I had shared with him and oh man - I cried and cried. This song (and a few others) got me through that time. I know this may sound like a sad memory, and in part it is. Yet, nowadays when I look back on that time, or hear this song, I am reminded of how lucky I am to have the husband I have now. I know my love for him and vice versa is stronger than I had with any other person. 

Do you remember this one?!

How many times do you hear a song and the memories flood in? Pictures, scenes, smells, thoughts, feelings, conversations, decisions, tears, laughter, etc... you're back in high school in your first car singing your head off; or riding along on a bike with your mom to the mall; or running to yet another upbeat song that's popular for the moment? How many times do you think back on something that happened and a song pops into your head to remind of what exactly happened?

About a week ago, I emailed my best friend with a random memory from March 2004. She laughed at with me and confessed she didn't remember it at all. She did comment on my crazy memory. That night I was talking to my husband about the memory - and realized. Wait, does my memory work differently? Do others have many memories or visions from the past when they hear a song? My husband confirmed that although he had some memories, they were not as frequent as mine. "Blog about it," he said, so that night I started a list of songs and memories. And today, was my first inspiration when my brain randomly thought of this song. 

Who remembers Vitamin C's Graduation song? "As we go on we remember..." Here's a link to remind those that need a reminder...https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=foyAOoVagWw

Oh ya, this first brings me back to senior year of high school! Hell, it was released in the spring of 2000. I remember cruising along in the light blue Taurus wagon (my sturdy wheels throughout high school cause I was so uncool), windows were down, and I was jamming. "...we will still be friends forever..." Oh yeah... 

We were embarking on our real lives and the people I had known for 10+ years were not gonna be around (and at this I rejoiced sometimes). It's true I didn't plan to keep in touch with many people, but I wondered what would become of us? "...These memories are playing like a film without sound..." Who would do what? Who would end up marrying who? Who was gonna go away or who was gonna stay? What was I gonna really do in college? And after that, what was my life really gonna LOOK like? My best friend and I had all sorts of plans of getting the heck out of Austin (and ironically, we ended up being the only two that stayed put). "...Will these memories fade when I leave this town..."

I remember the graduation ceremony and the all night party thing. I am pretty sure it was at a bowling alley, but I don't remember what happened or what we did... I just remember the lights and being tired. "...And so we talked all night about the rest of our lives..." I still have a pack of cards from that night (somewhere around here)! 

Oh yes, I played this song on repeat (a common trend with some of these songs). "... all the times we had together... and as our lives change come whatever we will still be friends forever..."

One more memory for this song to share. When my youngest step-daughter graduated this past spring from high school, I heard this song. I can't remember where or why. I remember looking at her though and wondering what was going through her head. Was she building the same kind of dreams and aspirations I had for myself? Was she looking around trying to take pictures to remember some day? Was she excited, scared, and nervous all at once like I had been once? "...Will we think about tomorrow like we think about now?..."

Today, the lyric that struck me the most was "...Where we're gonna be when we turn 25..."  In fact, it makes me giggle. Think back on yourself at the age of 18, think back on what or where you thought you'd be, and compare it to where you were at 25. Did you achieve everything? I'm 32 today and am not where I thought back then I'd be at 25, although I wouldn't trade my life for a second. 

Celebrating Chaplin's One-Year-Anniversary With Us

It's been almost been a year since my black fur ball came home... and I guess I never wrote how he came to be Chaplin. So, here's the story of how and why. 

As you had maybe seen in previous posts, I had an orange fur ball. Charlie. She’s my fur baby. Well, I dreamed for months to get another cat, so she could have a friend. After my move into the house, I felt like she just needed someone else. I knew that this wasn’t the best approach but well, I wanted another cat. I wanted a boy cat (allowing Charlie to remain the queen of the roost). I would name him Chaplin. Yes – Charlie and Chaplin. (I don’t remember when I came up with this genius name, but I think it’s pure perfection.)

Back in the summer of 2012, I finally convinced Ned to get this said friend, but he put his foot down that I would not get a cat after things in life had settled down (I was in the midst of job hunting and then there was that huge trip to Italy... oy - I'm behind on blog posts). Well, around November, I started looking at cute pictures online. I wanted to adopt another cat from the Town Lake Animal Shelter, but I wanted to protect Charlie from getting sick. I thought a cat that was fostered would be best. At the same time, a coworker had just adopted a kitten, cute, purring and sweet. Must get me some tiny cuddles! I had started oogling this one long-haired grey kitten online, but I had to re-register in-person with the shelter before I could contact the foster parent. Thanksgiving weekend was coming, and I decided that Friday after it would be a perfect time to go in.

So, we walk into the animal shelter, and I try to register. Of course, they first send you to go see all the precious, adorable, sad animals stuck there. It really is heart wrenching. (Yes I was teary-eyed and pouty after this walkabout. Ned, of course, was not phased.) I walked around and saw two cages I thought had some cute cats, but I really had no intention to adopt that day. No way – no how.

Ok, let’s register and get out. The lady behind the counter starts chatting with me as she’s entering my information, about my Charlie and what personality I’m looking for. She tells me about this black, long-haired kitten she had just taken to a show. How he had been playful, sweet and even friendly with a dog. I had indeed noticed him earlier since he was long haired and black. Ok, ok – fine. Fine. I’ll see him (he was alone) and the other grey cats I saw (3 of them together in one cage). Fine.  

We walk back and another volunteer lets me into the back of the area where both cages were. Picture a row of cages along one wall, in a room that was probably 40 by 10 feet?  I walk up to the first cage of the 3 grey cats – just to see them. We take the boy out. Well, the little black fur ball down the hall was just appalled by my actions. He starts meowing (shouting?) at me from across the room. Almost as if to say, “HELLO! HEY! HI! What the hell are you doing over there?! Come here and pay attention to me!!!” Ya – Ned is a witness to that. I literally talked back, “Okay, okay. I’m coming! Goodness.” We place grey brother back into his cage. We walk over, and this black fur ball is meowing his head off. Open the cage, and he leaps into my arms. He wouldn’t let me put him back! He had just been rescued a day or two before. The clincher? He purred so loud you could hear him across the room (he still does).

Well, little did I know at the very instant that he saw me – he decided I was Momma. 24 hours later – after a lot of hming and hawing – we brought Chaplin home. (Ned knew the instant he saw the meowing and purring exchange. I wasn’t so sure, until my heart nearly broke thinking that the little guy would be heart broken that his Momma had not picked him up after surgery.)

Here’s little Chaplin as a kitten - all 2.5 lbs of him:

Oh, those first months were so hard. He was sick, sick and sick. Chaplin had a cold (that would NOT go away) and had stomach issues. Read: special diet required. Poor thing had to be cooped up in a bathroom. And even then, he still got Charlie sick – she actually got laryngitis (that’s the strangest sound I’ve ever heard come out of cat. Imagine hearing a cat try to croak but a weird sound comes out). I’ve spent more money at various vets then I care to think about. I’ve shed many tears over both of them.

But, he got better, and now he’s nearly full sized:

Yes - obviously he suffers greatly doesn't he?

We’ve had lots of new experiences: Changes in food (now, the highnesses require wet food once a day); escapes via the front door when there is even a crack; extra litter box duty; more hair; fleas; meowing; hissing; cuddling; sitting on shoulders/heads (like a parrot at times); chases around the house that sound like there’s a herd of tigers, not two 10lb cats; suckling sheets when in bed with us; the refusal of wearing a collar; party time in the middle of the night (aka kitties think it's play time); loud purring; counter top adventures; eating bread; flipping water dishes (that require me to buy a new fountain) and who knows what else.

I think my favorite part is that Chaplin taught Charlie how to purr. She never purred that loudly.

And how are Charlie and Chaplin together? They’re quarreling "friends." At first Charlie was not impressed. She would look at me as if to say – “Seriously? You brought this home? Can we take him back?” Now, they chase each other, and I think they are playing? They watch out for each other. The other night Charlie woke up me at 2 am so I could get Chaplin out of the pantry. Oh - they will sleep and cuddle together (until Chaplin starts to play). They sleep next to me nearly every night. Ned jokes that the cats get 1/3 of the bed, I get 1/2, and he gets the remaining sliver. I say, "C'est la vie!!!"

            

I'm BACK!!! (with a story in tow)

So, it’s been months and months since I have written. Life happens and then you forget to write!?

Anyways, since we’ve last chatted, life has changed bunches. I have a new job! I’ve been to Poland, Italy, Napa, and Cancun! We’ve celebrated big birthdays, anniversaries, prom, and the holidays. Ned’s son graduated from high school (You may recall that I nicknamed my bf Ned).

But, most recently, Ned and I have become ENGAGED! Ned is now my fiancé!!! Doesn’t that sound fancy? We’re planning a wedding and all sorts of fun things.

And since I just wrote up the story for the proposal for our wedding site (of course I have one!), I’m going to share how Ned proposed. From my perspective.

ENJOY!

For those of you who don't know what this Flying Saucer and plate business is, let me give you a quick overview: Flying Saucer is a pub in central Austin that is known to serve many different types beers. For every 200 different, unique beers you taste (drink) at the Flying Saucer, you get a plate with a saying of your choice.

In December 2011, we both celebrated our first plates (although Ned was probably already half way to his second plate). Mine said “Beer is always a good idea” (in reference to Audrey Hepburn’s quote from Sabrina, “Paris is always a good idea.”). Ned’s plate said “I did this for her” and pointed to my plate with a huge arrow (insert collective “Awwwww” here.) So, for your second plate, you try another 200 beers, and you get a different colored sticker (yellow for #2) with a new saying (if one so chooses)… and so on for the remaining plates. Ned had finished the 400^th beer months ago, but somehow, we could never figure out when to have the plate party. I thought nothing of it really. Ok – now that we’ve established that…

So, I was anxious to for him to propose in recent months for months. I may or may not have been a tad bit annoying. I picked up on some clues that things were bound to happen. I will hold off divulging how much I knew, but let’s just say – I knew he had the ring.

In mid-May of 2013, Ned and I finally settled on the date of his plate party. I knew he was going to go turn in the paper work that next weekend, so when a friend of ours texted me to say she KNEW when it was going to happen, I was suspicious. When I asked what his plate would say, Ned’s response was, “Much of the same.”

Insert the Matron of Honor’s amazing abilities to manipulate me change my mind: She emailed me back and forth all week and basically convinced me there was NO way he was going to propose at the plate party. In fact, according to her, it could be months before he did (imagine me groaning and rolling my eyes every time I read that). I still held on to a tiny bit of hope, but really, I was losing hope it was ever going to happen.

Day of: We had a double date with the MOH and her hubby right before the plate party. Ned was acting normal – I didn’t think anything was weird or suspicious. Did I think about that it could happen? Of course. I still thought there was still a REMOTE chance.

Party got started at the Saucer. His parents, my parents, my brother, MOH and hubby were there. After some time, Ned decided to get up on the bar (a ritual that’s part of the party) to toast his second plate. Yay! Well, after the toasting and he got down from the bar, I thought OK – he’s definitely not proposing today. 

That’s when everyone in our party seemed to make a mad push to go see his plate in the other room. I wanted to sit down back at our table. Ned called me over, and I couldn’t understand the big deal. I even asked, “Doesn’t it same the same thing?” Ned said something about it being yellow now. I just thought to myself, “Ok, ok, I’m coming. None of these people have been to a plate party so they don’t realize that the plate is not that big of a deal.”

When I walked into the room and approached the plate, I immediately noticed that it didn’t say the same thing. First hint: No arrow. Then, I saw accents. Wait – that’s not even English. That’s Polish. And that’s when it hit me: HE WAS PROPOSING. Suddenly, I realized he was down on one knee with the ring to my right, and everyone was staring at me. At first, I was laughing, then I was choked up with emotion. 

I looked down at him, and here’s roughly how I remember it happening:

Ned: “What does it say?”

I look up and translate: “Will you marry me?”

Silence (me in total shock).

Ned: “Are you going to say anything?”

I nodded shortly after – my brain was blank!

In the end, I found out that everyone was in on the entire scheme. MOH and hubby were biting their nails on their way to our date. My mama and dad had known about the ring from the moment that I knew he had it. And of course, they helped him come up with the right phrasing.

It was the best proposal ever (but of course, I’m biased)…

Next post coming soon! 

A Swift Kick in Verizon’s Ass

“I am so pissed off, I’m molting.”

If I could cancel my service with Verizon right now, I would. They pushed me to the edge with their idiocy and leave me with NO choice. I’ve been backed into a corner where the ONLY option I have left is to spend MORE money. Oh, but I digress. Let me share the delightful story.

First off, let me set up the scenario: I share a cell phone plan with my Mama and Brother. It’s easier for everyone for multiple reasons, and we’ve been doing that for over 2 years.

So, about 6 weeks ago (mid-July), my Mama and I entered Verizon to get her an iPhone. Finally, she was eligible for a phone that wasn’t ridiculously simple or one that she’d be embarrassed by!!!

Well, of course, Verizon had just enacted a new rule as of June 28^th that REQUIRES a cell phone plan change when we get a new data phone. Of course. At face value, our price would go up $10, we’d have better options for minutes and data. Ok. Fine. $10 doesn’t seemingly break the bank. I was assured that a “similar” discount would be applied. Uh huh. But, somehow, I always knew there was a catch.

So, do any of you have a price breakpoint? You have a flag of a certain price range of what you expect to pay… But when you pass that point, you go ballistic. That was me today. I lost it.

Let me summarize what’s the root of the problem:

The bill is now officially $20 more. My corporate “discount” has decreased from $27 a month to $14. It’s the new “price structure,” and they can’t do ANYTHING about it.  

Ok – so what’s the big deal? Cell phone companies rip us all off. They are all Satan lovers. Well – they have to be, I suppose, since Satan must be their Daddy. They have no choice but to worship Daddy. And, as in every other family, each child has their "special traits." (Thanks Eric!)

Here’s the problem: Verizon’s customer service and the “options” they gave me. That’s the big deal.

(the below dialogue is obviously skimmed but please enjoy!)

First Verizon Rep: Left me on hold “searching” for her supervisor.

……………hang up, redial.

Second Verizon Rep: Well, ma’am, I understand your concerns. I can talk you through options. I’m looking at your account now. Oh, well, it looks like you’re not using all of your data. We could lower your plan to the lower data limit (4GB to 2GB).

Me: What’s the price difference?

Rep: $10.

Me: (already calculating the difference) That doesn’t help me at all because then my discount goes down…

Rep: Ok, so your new bill will be X.

(Automatically I realize its $2 more - before taxes I might add.)

Me: And that is $2.00 more than what my bill is now, with less data.

Rep: Erg, wait, let me check my calculation…

Me: You’re offering me an option that I pay more money for less data?!

Rep: Yes, It looks like my calculation was correct. Ok, I guess that isn’t an option.

Me: I want my old discount back.

Rep: I’d be happy to go back to your old plan.

Me: I can’t. We just discussed that I bought a new data phone… Ugh, I want to file a complaint. I need to speak with your supervisor.

Rep: I’d be happy to connect you. Just let me place you on hold …

……………10 minutes passes

Supervisor: Hi Miss Lang. I understand you have some concerns about your bill. How can I be of assistance?

Me: (rant about the same thing). I want to file a complaint.

Supervisor: Well, I can offer you one other option. However, you may not like this option.

Me: Ok?

Supervisor: We can take you back to the old plan but then you would have to pay full retail price for the phone you just bought.

Me: Ok, so now you’re asking me to lose more money because I’ll save $20 a month, but I’ll spend $650+ for the full retail price of the iPhone. Seriously?

Supervisor: Yes, ma’am. It appears so. This is an option that I can offer you because you’re in the window where I can reverse the change.

I won’t elaborate anymore. You get the picture. The two options that were given would cost me more money. Great. I hung up the phone, filing a complaint with a company that I bet will not ever follow up.