The Broken Places

4.08.2015


The world breaks everyone, and afterward, many are strong at the broken places. ~ Ernest Hemingway

There are sooo many bizarre and annoying things that happen in the third trimester of a pregnancy that no one warns you about until you're there. Google insights ain't got nothing on the friend who says, "Yeah that happened to me too. I just didn't want to scare you so I didn't mention it." What?! Where were you when it was happening at 2am and all I had was a computer, symptom and my tear ducts? I need to be warned of any and all oddities just in case I, too, end up experiencing that ish.

Mention it people! Mention the hemorrhoids you have to name and pray to. Mention the cramps and the not sleeping and all of the joyful reasons why you can't sleep and the nightmares about your baby being born pregnant.

...How pent up farts will rock your house and cause you to fear early labor or your husband divorcing you because he never said nothing at all in his vows about putting up with the bog of eternal stench making home in your ass or even worse than all of those outcomes--a shart.

Also mention that it may suck for you to dress yourself if you don't submit to a girly ass pregnancy mentality. Where is all the tomboy maternity gear? Can't a woman just spread eagle without fear that someone's staring at her baby's forehead? (My kid chills super low. I know she's a fart away from saying howdy. Did I mention I fart... a lot?)  I hate dresses and I hate pink and I don't like maternity designers. I wear my husband's gear.

Have I mentioned Mark hates me?

No one mentioned these things to me when I was trying to get pregnant...when I assumed feeling "fat" was the only thing I'd have to contend with.

So now I am thankful for the Erin and the Jen and the Vikkie who text with me and share hilarious, but truthful anecdotes on new motherhood. We ask questions...we lift each other up. We laugh. We're inappropriate and brave enough to share the not so flattering parts of our daily thoughts. It's so helpful. I find myself sending encouragement and reminding myself to do the same once I'm in a similar situation. I'm also thankful for Amy effing Poehler who wrote THE book on motherhood. I mean it was Amy who said, "It's easier to be brave when you're not alone."

I am not alone. Chicks may never have mentioned that weird bruises could possibly show up around my belly button because I've stretched too thin, but somehow the good ones showed up just in time to save me from the Googling "you have cancer and/or you're dying" doom of all dooms. Find your crew. Share a really gnarly fact about poop or hairy nipples and see how they react. If the response you get chills you out and reminds you that billions of women have done this for thousands of years then you've found home. If they listen to you discuss your broken places and commend and remind you of your strength then try to do one of the following:

suggestion a: convince them to move with you to a commune and live happily ever after.

suggestion b: name a child after one or all of them (Jerrinkkie?)

suggestion c: write a blog post or email and make sure they all read it.

Signed,

38 weeks, five days Tish




Pregnant Forever...Will I Be THE One?

4.04.2015

third trimester, pregnancy, miserable


So I've decided I'm a pregnant Bipolar type. I am done, done, DONE with being knocked up, but I'm not so sure I'm down for the labor part to come. One minute I'm complaining I want her OUT and then I get pains and I'm pleading with her to give mama a break and go to sleep...because I suck at pain and I'm a wuss and I am not ready. Yeah, I know there are pregnant unicorn mamas out there in the world who actually enjoy labor...even orgasm like G's BUT I've been experiencing false labor and cramps and I'm pretty damn sure I'm not going to be the woman who flushes a beautiful flush and giggles like a fairy every time  I dilate another centimeter. 

I had jury duty this past week and on my way home from the LA downtown area I went into full blown false labor...meaning I had these crazy, no good, horrible pains that didn't ebb and flow. They just consistently shot up and down my belly and into my crotch and had me screaming to Mark for 45 effing minutes.  Note to future mamas: Never get knocked up in Los Angeles. If you can't help yourself and you do get pregnant, never leave your home. Never go into traffic. 

He'd ask me to pull over, but I just knew if I did I'd have a baby on the 101 and I just couldn't be THAT Californian with the obnoxious freeway birthing story. 

luv and kiwi, californians, la, traffic, freeways, SNL, Kristen Wiig


I drove myself home like a boss... promptly peed and felt completely better. 

Mark now hates me.

Third trimester = When you feel all the feelings and I feel miserable. My belly is big for me and it's tight and she kicks me and I swear she has three legs and nails like Flo Jo. 

Luv and Kiwi, pregnancy, baby fingernails



That's incentive for birthing her...please let me see that she has two legs and two arms only...and that her nails are clippable. Not Wolverine-ish stuff that can't be cut or damaged. I've gone through airport security scans one too many times. I actually think and worry about such things. 

So yeah, for all the friends and family checking in to see if I've popped and how I fell: there ya go. I'm kind of a hot mess, but I'm owning my madness. 

Signed, 

OUCH! Mark! Can we get a cupcake? If you ask me to walk one more time I'm going to kick you in your piss pump.




The Nursery

3.20.2015

I started planning this durn nursery so early. It's what Type A, anal retentive and hormonal folk do. It's super almost done at this point. We have one large white basket to purchase for the gazillion soft blankets the kid's tush will be playing on and then I shall calmly take a chill pill.

I think I've found THE only creative outlet my mama brain would allow...I can't read. I can't really write a lick of anything clever, but gosh darn it if I didn't super focus in on gliders and art work for Miss Ziggy.

















36 Weeks | The Brilliant Narcoleptic

3.18.2015
I've reached that point in my pregnancy where I'm ready to not be with child in womb. I want child outside of womb.

This kid is supposed to be so squished she can't move anymore, but my ingenuous offspring has found a way to still kick the living shit out of me at all times of the day and night. There's no stopping her wiggles, punches and kicks. Sometimes they're hilarious and I can laugh them off. Other times they hurt so bad I cry. I actually cry!

Mark seems to think this will make me a weak candidate for labor, but the doctor assured his doubting butt I have not a lick of body fat on my belly so when she decides to stretch she's in fact stretching my rather taught skin tortuously. Good, fun times.

Being I'm an actor and movie buff I had to find an exemplary clip to help him understand and see the pain. Behold... Ziggy kicks:



Yep, friends... One minute and eight seconds in. That be the joy I experience.  I remember listening to women talk about how little they enjoyed their pregnancy. I would shrug off their complaints and tell them how magical and beautiful pregnancy was. I want to sucker punch that naive and totally clueless, opinionated chick in her vagina. She knew NOTHING! 

36 weeks...just a couple more and this kid will fly the coop. In the meantime you can find me on my couch, passed out. I sleep through her rockstar antics like a G. 

Yours Truly,

The Brilliant Narcoleptic 


A Baby Shower Fit for a Ziggy

3.05.2015

Last weekend, four of my dear friends, Elaine, Jen, Nina and Glenda threw us the best co-ed baby shower. Chock a block full of our favorite people and our favorite foods, we got down Ziggy style; celebrating the impending arrival of our spunky little lady... the one, the only...Ms Ziggy Stardust.








Sadly both Mark and I's fam bams are back in other states, but our framily out here in LA helped us to remember that we need not feel alone. I've never felt more blessed and more loved. This little girl definitely has a tribe of wonderful people.


Bea's Bakery, Donut Snob, Ele Makes Cakes

Sugar Swag Bakeshoppe


Speaking of wonderful! One of my lovely friends, Brandi of Sugar Swag Bakeshoppe spoiled us with the pink and white cookie treats. (She is definitely a baker who knows pregnancy cravings because bringing white chocolate covered pretzels was the best idea on the planet.) I have THE weirdest food aversions to this day (week 34 and still dealing with metal mouth...feel for me.) so meat was out of the question. I was really hoping I'd pull a Miranda from SATC and be able to go to town on fried chicken, but that isn't in this mama's cards. We straight up served vegan dishes from Veggie Grill and it was awesome. There were lumpia (a yummy Filipino dish) for the meat eaters. A lactose intolerant mama got mac n cheese... All was right with the world. Donut Snob came through as always (If you've been reading this blog for awhile you may recall seeing an appearance of these round pieces of perfection at our wedding.) Ele, one of Mark's bootcampers made THE most perfect Ziggy strawberry and carrot cake flavored cupcakes. AND last but not least they served my favorite dessert for the moment, strawberry shortcake. It wasn't just any strawberry shortcake, though. It was the kind with the whipped cream frosting and the lightest, most fluffiest angel food cake you have ever tasted. If you're ever in the Tarzana area hit up Bea's Bakery. That place is mecca. You'll walk in, see crazy amounts of delicious and start humming "The Hills are Alive with the Sound of Music" or something equally as epic.



Jen helped plan the event from Middle Earth (isn't she just the best?! I mean she was very much pregnant throughout the whole planning stage.) Together with Nina, Glenda and Elaine (pictured above in that order) they pulled off the greatest shower filled with sweet baby shower activities such as a photo booth and a onesie station. It was so awesome I didn't even mind the odd cold weather.

Right as we opened our last gift one of our guests felt a rain drop on their forehead. Perfect timing if you ask me! I think it's good labor luck to have a shower on your shower, no? I'm gonna roll with that.




We had the best day and feel so grateful to have such thoughtful, generous and caring people in our life. Now it's time to nest and prepare for a whole new world filled with baby girl goodness. Life is swell.

Luv and Kiwi,

Tish

Mamas Gonna Mom

2.24.2015

It's still happening... I'm moving farther and farther away from the stubborn "I'll never give up acting for motherhood" mentality and inching closer and closer to "taking a break isn't the end of the damn world."

I've been going to my acting classes, but they're getting harder and harder. We start at 7pm and end at 11pm... okay 11:30 if I'm being honest and that ish is for the birds. I'm the narcoleptic momma. My naps need naps and staying up to think of the moods a room can exude and then "reflect" that mood with my body just isn't working. Yes, that was our latest class assignment. I don't got the chops for it right now.

I missed the Oscars because of class and had to watch a recording the next day. I didn't tear up once. I didn't even dream of my own Oscar speech I've had down pat since I was four years old. Things, they are a'changin!

At first this bothered me. I had nightmares the night after my last class...just thinking of my dream and the grasp I'm losing on it. Don't get me wrong. I don't want to give up acting. I'll NEVER give it up, but right now all I can think of is playing with my baby and spending time with her and watching her grow and be. Leaving her just sounds dumb. I don't wanna do it.

And then I read a quote Zoe Saldana said when someone asked her about taking a break from Hollywood to be with her twins:

"They don't have a choice! I'm not going to rip my child off my tit to go work. And if I do that, then maybe you shouldn't hire me because I am willing to sell anything," she says, laughing."

Somewhere harps started strumming and I fell in love with the woman. Okay, I loved her before, but the shit got real after she said that. Yes, the woman is WAY more established than me when it comes to Hollywood so homegirl can afford to take off and come back with ease, but that's not the point. The point is haters gonna hate; mamas gonna mom. I'm gonna mom!

I'm still flabbergasted that I'm morphing. I mean I didn't think I'd be this deadbeat mama who resented her kid and was off dilly dallying with Hollywood while her child chilled at home, BUT I certainly didn't see myself welcoming a pause.

So yeah... I've discussed this a lot with Mark and the best friend and everyone's pretty cool and chill about it. I'm the only surprised one.

Thank you Ms Saldana for your validating, strong voice and thank you child in my belly for being so groovy. She makes this decision so easy. I mean she sticks out her little booty when she sleeps and lets me tap it delicately while saying, "Tap that ass, tap that ass," and then I sing inappropriate rap lyrics to her...this kid and I are gonna have fun man.



Pre-Audition bump shot. I'm finally getting auditions for pregnant chick...eight months in. Sad I didn't get to milk that ish sooner. 

31 Weeks | A Coconut Tale

2.09.2015


A writer I have most certainly not been, but as I inch closer to the big pop I find myself wanting to document more of this fleeting stage of my life. Pregnancy has been such a magical time. I love it that it lasts nine months because some days I know my butt isn't ready and I need more time to marinate over the parent I wish to be; some days I need to work on my confidence with knowing I'll be able to handle the lack of sleep...the instinct will kick in like I've seen it kick in for countless mothers I've been privileged to know and I'll be okay. I'll do okay.

We've been working on the nursery and it's coming along. I freak about practical placements in a weird way... am I creating the proper spaces to make her room functional...these aren't things I ever thought would consume me, but thankfully I have a partner who is equally down for getting that ish right. We spend weekends at furniture stores...on design web sites...watching YouTubes to figure out how to store ish. This is my life now. I've had some weeks to get used to this idea. I don't know when it happened, but I basically morphed into this completely different person. 

I'm not really hung up on the pains of my past. I don't worry about the superficial... I rarely, truly think of myself actually. I'm consumed with her. I got a really bad plague of something awful and I swear I'd wake out of deep, hard sleeps to feed her (even though I wasn't hungry in the least) to make sure she was getting what she needed. The amount of focus to making sure she's okay... it makes me wanna cry actually. 

Last week I had a dream that like the fellow in About Time I could travel back in time, but I went back too far and changed my pregnancy. I was no longer having Ziggy (it was another baby) and I woke up choking back tears. I've already bonded to her without even knowing her physical self. I don't know how, but I sense her little personality and spirit. I feel it.

My heart is full...so very full and I can not WAIT to meet this little one who is currently wiggling inside of me; happy with the hummus I've been scooping into my mouth in large quantities. She dances when fed like her mama. It's funny the traits you pass along...




She's the size of a coconut this week. 

Netflix, I'm in Love

1.23.2015

Oh this is gonna happen... First it was Orange is the New Black. Then the terrible, but addicting Hemlock Grove...

...and now (suck in lots of breath)




I've been singing "Apocalypse, apocalypse" for an hour now.  



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