My Pre-Baby Wishlist

Are wish list blog posts annoying? Maybe. But I've always liked them. It's kind of fun to see the other things that people search for on the Internet, or what they want for their birthday or just because. Doing them too often can be annoying because at a certain point, coveting stuff all the time is kind of concerning. But once and a while, a wish list blog post is fun. 

And this one is one really, long pointed stare at my husband. I've never been really obsessive about trying to get him to get me specific things for my birthday or our anniversary, but I've been making a really big deal about the things I want for the last months of my pregnancy. These aren't necessarily things I want for my birthday, because my birthday is October 20 and my due date is October 23. Waiting until potentially 3 days before giving birth to enjoy some new stuff seems like a recipe for disaster. 

Here are my (super duper basic) wishes for the last few months of my pregnancy. 

1. Striped Top

Guys, we need to talk about how much I want a black and white striped top. (I have an image in my head of it being majority white with thin, wide set black stripes.) Ideally, it wouldn't be maternity so that I could hopefully wash and shrink it down to post-bump status. If you're wondering why I'm jonesing for a relatively basic top so much, see my Maternity Style Pinterest board. It's the perfect Fall wardrobe addition (and it won't be too small like the striped top I own currently). 

2. Knee High Boots

For the past few years, I've operated under the assumption that I have "wide calves." But I actually, kind of don't? My calves have a circumference of 14 inches. Which, sounds huge, but is actually fairly typical. The average size 8 pair of boots has a circumference of 15-17 inches. Should work out, right? Wrong! Because I've never worn a size 8 boot in my life! I've always worn children's boots (size 4-ish and they have a calf circumference of... about 10-12 inches) or a size 6 (that typically has a calf circumference of about 12-13 inches). The size of the boot is correlated to the circumference of the calf... so if you're like me and have fairly standard size calves (or perhaps even muscular for your body type), but have always worn an itty bitty shoe size, you've never been able to find knee high boots that fit. 

With this knowledge, and puffy feet, I feel like the time has arrived: I can buy size 8 or 8.5 size boots and have them fit my calves and my feet (with thick socks). I've been scoping out boots for the last two months and I'm still undecided. I want to see them in person, I decide, and then I'll find a great pair of Mukluks on Zulily or something. 

3. A Knit Scarf

It's warm. It's cozy. It doubles as a nursing cover. It goes with every outfit. This year, I want a blanket scarf pre-Fall (so I avoid the massive sell out run on them!) and a really nice, knitted infinity scarf. 

4. Naked Smoky Palette

When I heard that Urban Decay was releasing a third (!!!) Naked palette, I had the immediate thought that they were jumping the shark. And I was wrong because the Naked Smokey palette is gorgeous. (I actually really love the Naked 3 palette as well because I loooove rose gold eye shadows, but I always look like I've got a bad case of pink eye when I pair pink-y eyeshadows with my hazel eyes.) 

5. An iMac

This is the most "dream worthy" gift I want. Someone needs to get me an iMac though. My trusty MacBook is starting to slow down and gets a little bit more laggy everyday. I've had it since my senior year of college--that's 5 years of use! I'm ready to graduate to a desktop computer and use my MacBook as a "use around the house" device. 

Oh No, My Shoes Don't Fit

On Monday, I put on my plaid print maternity dress (not my favorite) and a denim jacket. Minimum effort for maximum effect, which is really all I can ask from maternity clothes these days. For the past few weeks, I have found myself wearing the same pair of shoes every single day: my blue and white striped loafers that I impulse bought from Old Navy. They are already worn in, with embarrassing prints on the inside, and scuffed up somewhat badly. I made myself promise that I wouldn't wear my striped flats again. 

Instead, I put on a pair of strappy, studded, flat sandals that I've owned since the summer of 2010. They have served me well as a go-to, slip on sandal in the summer months... and they've always been a smidge too big, flopping away from my foot on the inside.

Monday morning, I slipped on these old, trusty sandals as not my first choice, but rather my last one. I would have preferred to wear a wedge, but my sore feet can't really handle walking even my 1-block walk in them. I put them on, drove to work, and worked 8 hours. 

Throughout my workday, I kept noticing my feet feeling, well, number. Especially the toes. But my office gets pretty cold, especially with air conditioning, so I moved my feet around and told myself to ignore it. The feeling got more and more intense until I left around 3pm. 

It wasn't until I was standing in the elevator and looking down at my feet that I realized the straps of my sandals that travel across the base of my toes were, well, nearly imbedded in my foot. I wiggled my feet around, pushed my sandals back a little. They moved, but my toes were horribly constricted and looked like fat little piggies, perfectly bright pink. 

As I walked to the parking garage (and thus, my car), my feet started to ache, the constricting strap cutting into my toes and making every step painful. 

My stupid feet. My stupid, fat feet! I wanted to scream. When I got to my car, I loaded my purse and lunch bag into the passenger seat, then promptly tore off my sandals and threw them on the floor of my car. I was mad. 

It was a foot betrayal. 

I drove how barefoot, feeling excited and free with my feet less constricted--and really happy that the feeling of numbness quickly disappeared from my poor toes. But I also found myself thinking: This can't happen. 

I can handle my clothes getting smaller. We all expect that in pregnancy, right? You can't wear your normal jeans or your favorite t-shirt or most of your underwear drawer. 

But you can always wear your shoes. 

My tiny shoe size has always been a comfort to me. Wearing a size 4-6 reminds me that my body has the potential to be small. No matter how unhappy I might be with my size 8 or 10 pants or my size L top, I knew that my feet were small. Society could suck it--I have small feet!!

Realizing, with a sudden and painful stab (like that of constricted toes), that my shoe size is changing. Is it swollen feet? (They're puffy, but not that puffy.) Is it the tendons in my feet shifting? (Maybe? Is that a thing?) Are my feet just growing with the rest of me, rebelling against what I've done purposefully? 

I can't fit into any of my favorite kitten heel shoes (my high heel of choice is, hilariously, a teeny tiny kitten heel). I can't fit into some of my smaller, more narrow flats. And most of my sandals cut into my puffy little feat. 

But I can wear my loafers. Trusty loafers. They never fail to disappoint, do they? Except that loafers don't go with every outfit and, come fall, it would be nice to wear other closed toe shoes. 

As soon as I got home Monday (and stopped hyperventilating), I found myself staring into the hallway closet where I store my shoes. Flats and boots and sandals and heels. I have so many shoes. So many teeny tiny shoes, size 4s or 5s, 6s, a few 7s. So many that I can't fit into, that make my feet look like bread that's proofed too long. 

In times of distress, I find that reorganizing always helps. So I did that. I looked at all my shoes; I counted them (don't ask how many, please don't); I organized them into two piles, too small and fit ok. I organized them by the mere fact of whether I could still wear them or now. I found myself comforted by the number that I could still fit my foot into (comfortably). More than just a few pairs of loafers: most of my non-pointed toe flats, some heels, my boots. 

It's hard to let go of an old fact about myself. I feel defined by the things I've always thought myself to be: a writer; a reader; a good student; a girl who wore a small size of shoe. It's hard to tell myself that there are other things that define me, more important things than my feet, and that a few pairs of too-small shoes aren't that big of a deal... but then I remember, I really love my shoe collection. 

All the Things I Just Can't Wait For

Sometimes, I worry that I sound too disappointed when I talk about having a boy. As I've written before, my disappointment is not really "this is a disappointment" and more "that was not what I expected." I'm less disappointed, actually, and more sad. When my friend from college, Bek, was visiting, I managed to convey just why I wanted a little girl so bad: I love my mom. That's it, pure and simple. I love my mom; I talk to hear at least once a day by text and visit her as much as I can. I love our relationship. I love that when I was 14 and just about to go into high school, she took me shopping and told me, in no uncertain terms, that I was beautiful and would always be successful because I was smart and that I would really enjoy high school. (That last bit was wishful thinking for both of us.) I love going to Portland with her, running errands, looking through old photos. I love my mom. And I wanted a little girl so I could have the same kind of relationship, because the relationship between mothers and daughters is vastly different from that between mothers and sons. 

I realize now, after a lot of time having passed between finding out little Forrest's gender and now, that that kind of expectation can be really damaging. By trying to force a certain kind of relationship on my child and I, I would undoubtedly be disappointed over and over again. I don't know what Forrest will be like and, even if he was a girl, I have no idea if we would connect and bond the exact same way my mother and I do. 

Thanks to the relationship between my mother and I, I know exactly how to be a great mother to a daughter: I know the things I want to say and the things I don't want to say; I know what to do, how to act, how to talk. What I don't know is how to be a mother to a son because, well, that's just not my experience. 

For now, all I can do is focus on the things I'm excited to do with Forrest and hope that he enjoys them to... and that I learn, somewhere along the way, how to be the best mommy I can be. 

Here's a short list of all the things Forrest can be assured I will drag him to: 

1. Disneyland. Thanks to my friend, Meghan, I have a set of Mickey Mouse ears for him already. Several people have asked me what I'll do if Forrest doesn't like Disneyland. But really, does anyone not like Disneyland? It all depends on your experience. And I'm going to make sure he has the best time. Mainly because we'll go in the off season. 
2. Halloweentown. Did you know the classic Disney Channel Original Halloweentown was filmed in St. Helens, Oregon? And did you know that every year they recreate the set of the movie in St. Helens, Oregon? Did you know I grew up obsessed with Halloweentown and did not know this fact until just two days ago? Did you know that literally nothing will stop me from dragging Forrest there next year and maybe this year?  
3. Countless posed portrait shoots. Gotta capture the cute... while forcing him to wear a tiny suit. 
4. The Newport Aquarium. And I will make him take a picture with the shark jaw, of course. 
5. The High Desert Museum. One of my favorite places around Bend, I don't think I've ever heard anyone talk about it. It's not as exciting as an aquarium or drive through safari, but I loved visiting as a kid and teenager. They have foxes, owls, and more, plus a replica of a central Oregon pioneer town. It's a mix of natural history and Oregon history, all wrapped up in one. 
6. A million different pumpkin patches. You will love Fall, Forrest. You will love it!

An Ode to Amazon & the Weirdest Stuff I've Ordered

On Amazon Prime Day, a day that will live in infamy for its hilariously bad deals (it really was like the clearance section at TJ Maxx), I ordered a highchair and bra extenders. In terms of Amazon purchases, these aren't all together the weirdest things to order: I got the highchair of my choice for Forrest for $70 cheaper than usual (and $90 cheaper than Target) and I got bra extenders because, well, you know. 

It got me thinking about when I started ordering from Amazon and what I ordered... and what I've ordered over the years. 

I'm probably a bit of a strange bird in terms of my generation: I wasn't big into online shopping until probably 2010 or 2011. I never trusted online deals or any particular websites and in retrospect, this is probably why I was so good at not spending all my money immediately when I was younger (although I was very good at that early on). 

However, once I got into the swing of things on Amazon, I really went for it. Here's a run down. 

2008

In my first Amazon order ever, I purchased a workbook and laboratory manual to accompany my Deutsch: Na klar! An Introductory Germany Course textbook. Obviously, I was prepped to study German. Hilariously, the workbook I received also featured the teacher's answer section in the back, which I used because I'm not dumb and I'm a bit lazy when it comes to workbooks. 

2009

A few months later, I ordered over $200 worth of books, including Walt Whitman, Herman Melville, and Young Lonigan. I remember this term of my school career and I remember it well, because I was really tired of reading old white guy literature by the end of it. Thankfully, I also ordered a copy of Incidents in the Life of a Slave Girl to break up the monotony. 

2010

Another year, another $200+ on books. This was the year I got really into sociology, obviously. A sample of the books I read include A New Look at Black Families, How Does it Feel to be a Problem, and the Rich Get Rich and the Poor Get Prison. As a side note, I'm currently rereading How Does it Feel to be a Problem and it's so good; it's only $10. Buy it. 

2011

This was the year I started to really get into Amazon. I ordered my last bundle of school books (sample: Shannon: A Poem of the Lewis and Clark Expedition), but I placed five other orders of non-school books and other weirdo stuff, including my camera. A link no longer exists for it, but I also ordered a bunch of bulk camera lens wipes. 

2012

I am not a night shopper and I don't usually make impulse decisions. But in my two paltry Amazon orders of 2012, I made two intensely impulsive decisions. On one of Danny's visits home, I bought Katamari Damacy for his Playstation 3. This game is essentially a game version of taking acid and flying to Tokyo, then trying to navigate your way around mid-trip. I also ordered the stupid expensive Lord of the Rings extended edition blu-rays because, duh, Danny and I needed them.

2013

2013 was the year I got Amazon Prime and it made a huge impact on my life. I ordered a planner that I literally have no recollection of using, a really horrible novel that I read on my honeymoon, books about emotional eating, and a copy of this awful movie for Danny. 

2014

In 2014, I hit my Amazon stride. Up until 2014, I'd been placing between 2 and 6 orders on Amazon. This year, I upped the ante and placed a total of 15 orders. It's almost embarrassing. This was also the year I started clawing my way out of the deep, dark depression that had encompassed my life in 2013 and early 2014, and in some ways, my purchases mirror that. 

I ordered the Venture Bros, a bunch of Kong toys for Remus, 21 Jump Street, TWO of these jump drives (Danny knows why), and a ton of Quest bars. Between these seemingly normal-if-disparate things, I ordered a ton of phone cases, a case for my Kindle, what feels like waaaay too many Kindle books, and a lot of chevron print stuff. 

2015

Don't judge me: in the first 7 months of 2015, I've placed more orders than I did for 2014. I don't leave my house anymore, guys! I'm a bloated, miserable, whiny, pregnant mess. What can I say? 

I've ordered Tummy Drops that made me sicker, Mama Butter which smells good but does nothing, tiny baby glasses,  this weird movie that is apparently part of a series, an embarrassing amount of scrapbooking supplies*, and stuff for my baby shower. I also ordered vitamin B6, prenatal vitamins (which I ended up trading for gummies from Target), at least 20 Kindle books, and another heap of iPhone covers. What can I say, I'm a collector for those iPhone covers. 

*If you're looking for cheap scrapbooking stuff, seriously check Amazon before going to a physical store. 

---

In many ways, tracing my Amazon purchases is like tracing my life. Everything in my world revolved around school for a long time. Post-school, it was cameras, GRE study books, and the occasional movie. In the year(s), I was depressed it was movies, weird video games, books to help with my depression (that didn't help), and gifts. In the past few years, I've ordered gifts, things that revolve around my hobbies (scrapbooking, reading, planners), things that revolve around my unending obsession with my body and its size (weight loss books, more books by Geneen Roth, a Fitbit, Quest bars), and alas, baby stuff. Enough baby stuff to build a tiny mountain. 

I can trace the crests and valleys of my life, the highs and lows, the classes I loved and hated, the months where I most wanted to curl into a ball and disappear. It's strange what an online purchase history can reveal--and what it can make me feel. 

My Eyebrows & Me: On Growing Up, Growing Out, & Giving Up

Has over-plucking your eyebrows ever really been in? 

When I was a young tween and started reading magazines like Seventeen and TeenVogue, the in eyebrow seemed to be the heavily plucked, but still plus, brow with a heavy, intense arm. Not bushy by any means, but not over-plucked. Every few years, a new celebrity with intense brows would emerge and teen magazines would encourage some kind of "au-natural" brow look, but it never seemed to really catch on. Even now, in the days of Cara Delevingne, the plucked, arched, filled, and gelled into place brow is in. 

The first time I plucked my eyebrows, I cried. I've always had thick, very dark eyebrows, two little caterpillars plopped right above my eyes. I hated them when I was younger. Mostly, I just wanted to avoid any kind of unibrow situation, which is what lead to me, at the age of 13, stealing an old pair of my mom's tweezers (sorry, mom) and sitting on my bathroom counter, alternatively crying at the fact that I didn't know what to do and the shockingly horrible pain of plucking teeny, tiny hairs out of my face. 

The very first thing I did, was pluck each eyebrow a little too far past the bridge of my nose. We all make this mistake and it is one I have continued to struggle with in the past 13 years of brow plucking. Throughout the rest of middle school and high school, I would painstakingly pluck between my brows and under them, essentially just cleaning up what was already a decent brow shape. 

As time passed, magazines suggested to me that I was supposed to be undertaking some kind of... shaping effort. I should be thinning my brows, or getting a good arch, or something. I didn't get it. Other magazine tutorials suggested that I needed some kind of teeny brush and scissors set to trim the brow hairs. I have always been nervous about messing too much with the things on my face that I can't change. Just as I can't change my face shape or my chubby cheekbones or my blotchy skin, I can't do a lot about my eyebrows, at least from my perspective. Jet black, thick, and lush: those are my eyebrows. 

I ignored the advice to dye them a light shade (terrifying), trim them (equally terrifying), and/or wax them off and just pencil them on (thank goodness). I undertook a serious effort to begin shaping my brows, plucking a good bit from underneath them to thin them out just a little bit (or that's what I told myself). 

This is when I boarded the eyebrow struggle bus and never really got off of it. Since then, I have struggled to make my eyebrows even or even look remotely the same. I stare at them in the mirror. Is it my imagination? Am I crazy? Or do they just not match? I shortened them. I over-plucked one and covered it with my bangs until I could salvage it. I would vow to not pluck for two months, only to find myself, a week later, tweezers in hand, getting rid of all the teeny, tiny baby hairs that I hated. 

This continued on for a while until senior year, when my poor eyebrows were so plucked beyond belief (not over-plucked, not really, just tortured) that I didn't really get stray baby hairs anymore. I left them alone mostly, plucking when I had to, but otherwise ignoring them and pretending that my eyebrows looked fine, just fine, not severe or anything. 

Post-college, my eyebrows had returned to a somewhat decent shape, forgiving the mistakes of my high-spirited youth. I started plucking again, carefully and deliberately, not making any attempts to change what was already there. 

Then, overnight it seemed, eyebrows were in. Your eyebrows had to be "on fleek" (what does it mean?); you need an eyebrow pencil, eyebrow powder, a special concealer brush. You need to pluck and trim and have a perfect arch and stare into cameras looking like a strangely realistic version of Maleficent. My eyebrows couldn't just be simple and clean anymore. I needed to do things with them on a daily basis. 

I couldn't deny the truth: my eyebrows had suffered some mistreatment over the years. I'd plucked in places that were unnecessary and ignored places that desperately needed assistance. I'd never trimmed my eyebrows in my life, something that most people agree is a good idea, if only for keeping your eyebrows in place all day. 

I decided to put down the tweezers and back away, seriously, for a few months. Partly, this was spurred on by being pregnant; my skin is sensitive enough in the best of times, but during pregnancy, every plucked hair was essentially like stabbing myself in the face. It hurt worse than it ever had before and left my skin puffy, red, and itchy. Plucking would have to wait. 

In the past few months, my eyebrows have successfully grown back to the way they looked pre-plucking. They are decidedly ok and just how I remember them: jet black, thick, and pretty lush. I'm lucky to have good hair and good eyebrows, so there is not much to complain about. They have almost no natural arch and essentially look like cartoon eyebrows you would draw on a stick figure. They are decidedly OK, even if they drive me a little nuts. 

Everyday, I fill in any less-lush spots with an eyebrow pencil from NYX and I brush them into place with a teeny, tiny brush. That seems to do as far as eyebrow maintenance is concerned. It's really not as if I was spending hours on plucking my eyebrows every week, but it's surprising how changing one part in your routine seems to free up time for other things (like coating myself in layers of Burt's Bee Mama Butter). 

I recently entertained the notion of going to an Eyebrow Professional and having my eyebrows done. Having someone else fret over putting an arch in these bad boys and worry about if they are too far apart or don't match. I quickly decided that was a no-go: it would require upkeep. I'd either have to go back or start the process of trying to do it myself all over again (a prospect that, given my current situation, seems a bit daunting).

Even if I haven't embraced my short legs, chubby thighs, or round face, I've managed to embrace my eyebrows. And that's at least one step in the right direction. 

How to Make a Baby Planner

For months, I had a spare Filofax cover floating around. I ordered it last year and promptly realized that it was too small for my handwriting and I didn't like any of the available Filofax calendars. (I know, I know, I'm picky.) I dismantled it and waited to use it for something useful. I follow a lot of #plannergirls on Instagram, which has given me lots of ideas for how to use spare planner covers and more. (Although, I don't see myself scrapbooking my planners so intricately anytime soon, although I love looking at the creations of others!) After I got pregnant, I knew that it would be a great idea to make a planner for my pregnancy and the baby. 

I'd looked through Pinterest trying to find a good tutorial or at least rundown of how another mom made a baby planner... but I couldn't find anything quite like I wanted. I decided to rough it and ended up making 5 tabs for myself: Basics (for to do lists, contact information, etc.), Hospital, Baby, Post-Partum, and Notes & Questions. 

I used a set of tabs that came with my original Filofax diary to trace onto some scrapbooking paper. After cutting them out, I used a hand punch to punch them for the Filofax cover. I used some stickers from a Simple Stories Baby Boy set to make the tabs, although they look a little wonky on the first one (it was my first try, what can I say?). 

From there, I separated each tab into some separate sections.

Basics includes a page of basic information about Danny & I (our birthdates), my doctor, my hospital of choice, and potential emergency contacts (my mom, Danny's parents). Then, I have sections for To Do lists, both pre-baby and post-baby. The basics section is basically a place for me to jot down things I need to remember to do or write a list of things Forrest really, actually still needs (a changing table pad, a carseat, a stroller) without having a million post-it notes floating around my house. 

Hospital has further information about my choice of hospital (including any notes I write down from my hospital tours, since my doctor delivers are two totally different area hospitals), as well as my birth plan, a packing list, and notes for Danny. Basically, I wanted to make sure that I have all my medical information and wishes written down in one place because, while I will remember them, Danny may not. 

Baby has a section for first stats, medical information, and any other notes I might need to write down and keep track of. This section also has a feeding log (to keep track of feeding times and breastfeeding concerns), as well as a diaper log. (If you're wondering why the "Name" section of Baby Stats is blank, it's because there is always the minute possibility that the baby will be a girl and therefore, not named Forrest. Gender determination is still sometimes incorrect.) 

Post-partum is a pending section: mostly, I'll use it for notes from the doctors, any instructions I might receive, and questions I might have. 

Notes & Questions is my most-used section right now! Whenever I think of a question for my doctor, I write it down here. Whenever I notice Forrest kicking more than usual, I write it down (as well as anything that preceded it, such as drinking a soda or eating ice cream). It's basically where I record anything that might be important for my upcoming appointments. 

If I hadn't had this Filofax lying around, I probably would have used a plain notebook (with dividers) to make a working baby notebook, but I'm glad I decided to repurpose a Filofax. It's the perfect size to carry around and I don't have to worry about buying diary refills for it... I can just cut down notebook paper or other loose leaf paper to use in it. I've found a lot of ways to keep myself organized lately, and this is just another way that I keep my memory in check. 

My Pregnancy Essentials

Someday, I'll have something to write about that isn't pregnancy related. I swore I wasn't going to be one of those annoying pregnant women who only talk about being pregnant--but it's weird how all-encompassing pregnancy can become, even right from the beginning. If you're sick, there is no escaping the fact that you're pregnant. Once you start to show, the gig is really up: your mobility is effected, as is your body chemistry and more. 

I meant to write this post earlier, but I'm glad I procrastinated on it. There are many things that people will claim are "essential" to pregnancy (and that some people never use once). That's because nearly every pregnancy is different: what works for some women doesn't work for others. Some women never have to buy maternity clothes; some need them starting in the first trimester. I could list examples for ages. You don't really know what you'll need until you, well, need it, but I found a lot of value it learning what other people used to help them through. Here are just a few things I wouldn't have made it through the last 23 weeks without*. 

(*I will be writing an updated list, probably, once Forrest is born.) 

1. A heating pad.

From about 11 weeks to 16 weeks, I had the worst lower back lumbar pain. At first, I thought it was that terrifying back pain they tell you to watch for if you're having spotting and/or bleeding... but it wasn't. It lasted for about the same length of time as my morning sickness: let me tell you, it was super fun to have the two combined! My back perpetually ached as if I'd moved houses every single day, but a heating pad helped immensely. Recently, my back pain has returned, this time in a different spot (mid-back) thanks to pressure from Forrest. So my heating pad has made a return. I got mine at Target for $25 and it has truly the ugliest mossy green cover slip (that is terribly matted now), but I could really care less: I love it and refuse to part with it. I take it everywhere. 

2. B12 supplements.

Note: If you're pregnant, please don't just start taking B12 if you're pregnant; talk to your doctor first. That goes with any vitamin or medication suggested by any blog post like this one! 

I used B12 in combination with Unisom to help my morning sickness. I really do not know how I could have made it through without it. Originally, my doctor prescribed me Diclegis, which is basically a single-tablet version that combines the active ingredients of both B12 and Unisom. However, my insurance didn't cover it (and it's about $600 for 30 days worth), so I survived on samples until the 25mg B12 I'd ordered from Amazon arrived. For me, it was the simplest way to handle my morning sickness... and the Unisom helped with my insomnia. 

3. New underwear. 

As I've mentioned before, certain waistbands grew to be really uncomfortable to me. Anything that hits at a certain spot presses on my bladder and/or encourages Forrest to kick incessantly at that area. Early on, I had to resort to new types of underwear to keep myself comfortable. I really like Victoria's Secret "shortie panty" (basically, high-waisted boy shorts). I also really like Aerie's "girly shorts". Both brands are incredible comfortable and hit just high enough to avoid that uncomfortable bladder spot; also, their waistbands aren't binding, so they don't get in and cause muffin top or just general discomfort. 

4. Sun protection of all kinds. 

"Your skin reacts to the sun so differently when you're pregnant!" I read that sentence, in a hundred different ways, multiple times early in my pregnancy and I really didn't believe it. Then I got a sunburn. Firstly, I got sunburned on a part of my skin that A. was not really showing and B. I had definitely put sunscreen son. Secondly, the sunburn lasted, bright red and ugly, for two weeks. Only recently has my skin started to fade to a slight tan-ish color; I'm hoping it disappears soon. So now I cover myself in a coat of sunscreen right out of the shower if I know I'm going to be outside for any length of time; I carry a little bottle of sunscreen everywhere; and I try my best to stay in the shade even if I am outside. It's been so hot lately that I can't really bother with wearing long sleeves or long pants, but I do try to find ways to keep my skin protected. Because that two-week sunburn really sucked. 

5. Lotion.

Along with sunburns, my skin has been incredibly dry since around 11 weeks. This is really strange for me as I typically have very oily (facial) skin and I've never really had to bother with having to put lotion on my arms and legs. I often did just for fun, however. I've used almost an entire jar of Burt's Bee Mama Bee Butter, as well as nearly half a brand new bottle of Bath & Body Works lotion. Everyday I use more lotion than I have probably used in the average week and a half pre-pregnancy. 

6. Bullet journaling. 

I don't mention this very often, but I use bullet journaling at work to keep my deadlines and to do lists straight. I have used two Moleskine notebooks in a year of work and I'm on my third now. With pregnancy, my previously amazing memory disappeared; if I don't write down a task or something someone tells me, I will almost always forget it within 10 minutes... sometimes when they are still in the same room! Obviously, that's embarrassing. I'm really glad I got into the habit of bullet journaling pre-pregnancy because it's been a lifesaver with remembering tasks at work (not that there have not been some slip ups). Everyone bullet journals a little bit differently, so here is a search on Pinterest. Maybe someday I'll write a post on how I bullet journal, but alas... not today. (Mainly, I don't use fancy symbols for my to do lists; that is way too much work!) 

A few examples of things I didn't need or use: body pillows; a belly band; those morning sickness lollipops (they cut up your mouth); Seabands; and baby apps (although I downloaded a ton of them). 

Fellow pregnant ladies & mommas, what were your pregnancy essentials? 

5 Reasons to Start Keeping a Journal Today

I started keeping journals not long after I started reading the Amelia series of books by Marissa Moss. (If you love 1990s style websites, do yourself a favor and definitely click that link!) I can basically judge a person's character depending on if they read the Amelia book popularized by American Girl Magazine in the late 90s and early 00s. If you haven't read them, I take pity on you, but you need to get on Amazon and start ordering. Trust me on that one. 

I have storage containers full of journals. Journals upon journals upon journals. At least 100 of them. At least. I was not very good at keeping things in order and I flitted between notebooks and diaries based on which one was prettiest or newest. Some are half empty. As I got older, they became more ornate; in  high school, I all about filling my notebooks with intricate pencil drawings, printed photos from the internet, and collages. In college, I was a straight writer: no frills, no fuss. By my senior year, I was drawing intricate dates, writing long entries, including random lists (ala Colonel Gentleman from the Venture Bros, embarrassingly enough), pictures, ticket stubs, and more. Part-scrapbook, part journal, I hit the journal sweet spot. 

I've continued my journal habit for about 16 years, if I guess that I started legitimately writing journals at 10 or 11. That's pretty impressive. I'm not an "everyday" kind of journal writer. I often forget or write about things that happened weeks ago. In general, my journal entries have always been more about my feelings than about what I strictly did that day or recounting conversations. I collect things: lists of books, sticky notes, general lists, disorder, whatever. I like my journals to feel as messy and disorganized as my life. 

As much as I love journaling, I've always resented those "journal your way to happiness!!" blog posts. Journaling can definitely help get rid of negative or harmful emotions, but it's not a cure all. That's for sure. If journaling really allowed you to realize your greatest dreams with simply writing about it, I would be a world famous author who was 6'1" and looked like Kendall Jenner by now. 

There are lots of valid reasons to keep a journal. Here are five: 

1. People who write down things they are thankful for are happier. 

Ok, this is a proven fact: if you write down a few things that were good about your day, or that you are thankful for from your day, you'll become a happier person. Basically, researchers did a study where they split a group in half; one half wrote down five positive things from their day and the other half wrote down five negative things from their day. It was a journal experiment and the results were that the group who wrote down positive things were happier people at the end of the study. Not too shabby, huh? If you're looking to find little ways to improve your life, writing down a list of things you are thankful for or positive events from your day (even on a rotten, horrible, no-good day) can be a good first step. 

2. It's fun to look back on your past self and laugh (or cry). 

Some of my best, funniest writing happened when I was 16. Why? Because my journals from my sophomore and junior years of high school are hilariously melodramatic. They're so boring, but looking back makes me appreciate how I somehow managed to be intelligent and really stupid at the same time. I'm sure this will continue to be a theme as I get older. Someday, when I'm 50, I'll look back my blog posts and journals and think, "What is wrong with you?" 

3. It's relaxing. 

I don't buy into the "journaling will make you so happy" mumbo-jumbo, but man... decorating a journal page and writing even just a paragraph can be a hugely relaxing activity after a long day of work. Sometimes, I find myself feeling on edge and cranky, and I slowly realize that what I really, really need is 45 minutes to myself to doodle, decorate, and journal. 

4. It can improve your memory. 

Everyday, I write a few of the same lists: things I need to do; things I've done; and things I've learned. As I write those daily lists, I find that I am better able to remember everything I have to do and everything I've already done. And I retain information better. Research has shown that list-makers (those list obsessed amongst us) have better memories, probably because physically writing information down (not typing it!) aids in memory retention. 

5. You create a record for your family and children. 

Ok, it doesn't matter if you have kids right now or not. But by keeping journals, you keep somewhat of a record of your life for your children, grandchildren, and distant relatives. How cool is that? Have you ever gotten a chance to read a great-great-grandfather's journals or ledgers before? Isn't it fun? I hope to leave something more than a Facebook page behind for future generations, which is part of why I keep journals.