Monthly Archives: January 2013

Jan 25

The Glow of Pregnancy

Me at 3 months with Shorty #1

Me at 3 months with Shorty #1

As if!  Ok, I never glowed when I was pregnant.  Unless you count the night sweats at 3am!

I was out buying a baby shower gift for a very sweet friend expecting her first and I started thinking back to those days when I was big as a house.

Don’t get me wrong, I love my girls more than anything and the combined 18+ months carrying them was fully worth it.  But man, I was a BAAAAD pregnant person in so many ways.  Of course, I followed all the rules – no booze, no brie cheese, no sushi (no booze!!!).  I tried to eat right, get enough rest etc etc – but I was not one of those people who glowed.  I did not blossom into motherhood, I sort of squished into it.

First things first, I spent all nine months in a near constant state of panic.  Our generation of pregnant women are able to obtain information about said pregnancy 24-7.  We find out we’re pregnant 3 days before our period is even late.  We can Google any symptom, concern, ache, itch etc and get some diagnosis.  We can crowdsource our pregnancies for pete’s sake.  “When I pee 17 times a day it smells like lemon pledge” – pop that into ask.com and you’ll get 14 different responses.

User: MommyBrain

“Oh yeah, that happened to me, but it smelled like Chlorox”

User: GreenMommy

“You can’t use Chlorox its terrible for the environment”

User: MamaPanic

“Call your Doctor immediately, thats a sign of utter and imminent disaster”

The real answer here – Googling for medical advice is a terrible idea – ESPECIALLY when you’re hormonal.

The day Shorty #1 was born, I was so relieved that I could actually SEE her.  What happened next – for the past 6 years, I wake up at 2am, sneak into her room and make sure she’s breathing.  But at least I can check, right?

I had this rose-coloured view that pregnancy would be so amazing.  I would be mother earth incarnate in cute maternity dresses wrapped around my little basket-ball belly, doing pre-natal yoga classes each day and lunching with friends in the last days before babe was born.

Yeah, no.  Not really.  So here are some of the things that weren’t exactly what I expected while expecting…

1.  Maternity Clothes – trying to look like a beautiful, pregnant Gwen Stefani without the help of full-time stylist and glam squad is impossible.  Gwen Stefani’s maternity clothes are not what’s available at the local mall.  The maternity clothes that you can find would be more akin to styles preferred by your grade six English teacher.  And WHY do all pairs of maternity jeans have to include studs and sequins?  WHY?  And don’t give me that business you can maternity COH or J Brand.  Yes, you can get those – but good luck fitting into those puppies at 6 months (ok, for me I couldn’t squeeze into them after my first trimester!)  To add insult to injury, when I hit the 9 month mark I was lucky if I could find a maternity top to cover my behemoth belly!

2. Pre-Natal Yoga – this humbled me.  After 5 minutes into my first pre-natal yoga class I rolled my eyes and thought – this is lame.  I won’t even feel this after 45 minutes.  10 minutes later I was on my back in reclined mountain, sweaty and puffing and stayed there for the rest of the class.  That was the first and LAST pre-natal yoga class for me.

3. Ignorance is Bliss – As mentioned, I lived through my pregnancies in a constant state of panic.  I am an avid worrier by nature – but this was on a whole other level.  In some ways, I wish I had never read all those creepy pregnancy books that tell you what to worry about.  My Mom had 4 kids and she barely batted an eye – and we were all fine!

4. Being Pregnant Gives People License to Boss You Around.  Seriously, the minute you start to show get ready for the onslaught of unsolicited advice from complete strangers.  This doesn’t even begin to compare however to the instructions strangers will dole out to a new Mom – but that’s another Blog.

Hang in there preggo readers.  Don’t worry if you’re not the Drew Barrymore of pregnancy.  And don’t worry if you don’t look like Gisele Bundchen at 4 weeks post partum!  Once your little bundle arrives – its all a distant memory.

XO

Jan 21

50 Shades of…

… insert your adjective here.

Yeah, I read it.  Am I proud?  No.  Do I want others to know I read it?  Not really.  BUT, after reading it I did have one very strong feeling… GIVE ME BACK MY $19.99!!!

E.L. James is a f&*$ing genius and all us women are a bunch of dupes for actually falling for the hype.  The writing in this book is abysmal.  The plot is pathetic.  If I was Stephanie Meyer I would be suing!  Replace Christian Grey with Edward Cullen, take out the sex and we’re back to the Young Adult section.

I admit it, I’m an avid consumer of pop culture.  If everyone’s talking about it, I want to know about it.  So I shelled out the cold hard cash to buy it (ok, it was on my iBook account) and devoured the book in a matter of days.  When it was over I felt like the girl who had one two many and went home with the bartender, doing the walk of shame the morning after in last night’s eyeliner.  A little dirty, a little violated and undoubtedly ripped off.

Its a sad state of affairs that the number one book on the New York Times Bestseller list features a mousey protagonist whose sense of self worth is so pathetic that she allows herself to be “rescued” by a total dickhead who just happens to be a bajillionaire and drop dead gorgeous.  Isn’t it every girl’s dream come true?  To meet the perfect, gorgeous, rich, well connected sado-masochist?  COME ON!  By the middle of that book, I wanted to scream from the highest tower – ARE YOU KIDDING ME?  HAVE SOME SELF-RESPECT!  RUN AWAY!     Then I wanted to find a higher tower and scream to the women of the world – PUT THAT BOOK DOWN, WALK AWAY FROM THE BOOK!

Obviously there’s a reason we’re consuming the Twilight trilogy and 50 Shades.  The market is clearly demanding it.  Women are often attracted to the bad boy – which I guess is why James Dean posters are still being made and men in their 40’s ride motorcycles.  I’m not a very good feminist, and am not really in a position to preach to anyone about the decline of society – so I’ll shut my pie-hole and let people do what they want… they will anyway (thanks for that Pops!).

Jan 17

What Do You Do?

A common question.  When we meet someone new, we ask the question “What do you do?” Its interesting phrasing, isn’t it?  I “do” lots of things.  But the reality is that this question is a perfect fit for me.  What I do for a living is an integral part of who I am and what I do.  My job is a lifestyle choice as much as a career choice.

Where it gets tricky is actually explaining what I do.  My Mom likes to explain it as “She’s so-and-so’s people.”  As in “have your people call my people and we’ll do lunch.”  That’s close, but I prefer to use the hub of the wheel analogy.

I am a manager.  I work with international recording artists, managing all aspects of their career.  If you place the artist in the centre of the wheel, the manager is the hubcap surrounding them and the spokes that feed into the hub are the other aspects of their career – touring, recording, label, publishing, endorsements etc.

Artists work around the clock, which means I do too.  Artists travel a lot, which means I do too.

I’m also a Mom.  See above and replace “manager” with the word “mom” and replace the spokes of the wheel with;  school, playmates, doctors, lessons etc.

Kids need attention around the clock, but the good news is that kids don’t travel that much on their own.

I guess being a manager is good training ground for being a mom.  The Momager handle is a reference to that and NOT some f^&%ed up Hollywood Stage Parent.  (I won’t mention them by name, they don’t need any additional SEO assistance.)

So that’s me, in a nutshell (“how do I get out of this nutshell?” – sorry couldn’t resist the Austin Powers reference).  I felt like it was important to share all that with you so you get the context of this blog and my just ok juggling skills.

So. What do YOU do?

PS – My Mom said I need to put some sex in the blog to keep people interested.  SOME SEX.  There you go Mom.  Hopefully that helps my SEO!

Jan 16

A New Year

Every December 31, we join with friends, family, loved ones and plan a fresh start for the New Year.  Lose weight, break bad habits, create good habits, make some sort of change.  The trick to all of this is how we feel on January 31.

Like many new mom’s my list is not all that inventive – lose that last 10 lbs of baby weight, eat better, exercise, spend more time on educational pursuits with the kids etc.  Its funny though how in this process I seem to have found another resolution for 2013 – to rediscover me.

The past 7 years have been incredible – the arrival of two shorties has made our family a home.  We are blessed by these two little ones that amaze us with personality traits so like our own yet personas so clearly unique.  Over the past 7 years, my career has grown by leaps and bounds and I am grateful for the opportunities and experiences I’ve had in this time – lots of good, some bad but a bucket load of learning.  The only concern is that juggling 2 kids, a home and a blossoming career can be a feat!  Managing the time for all of this means the things I like to do in my spare time have fallen by the wayside.

Cue the eye roll for all other Mom’s out there.  I know, I know – wah wah wah.  ALL Mom’s without exception face this no matter what.  Life changes after kids, no doubt about it.  So this is not a complaint but more a realization of how much simple pleasure I was able to get from a yoga class or a date night on the mountain skiing with my Love.

As laying in reclined mountain pose in said yoga class, it hit me.  My demanding career and busy family life is a priority – but making some time for these little things for me can actually make me a better Mom, Manager, Momager.

Revolutionary thinking this is not, I realize.  But it is revolutionary for me.  So away we go with the intention that the resolutions of 2013 including the most recent addition to the list become the norm.