who did my make-up?

I just got my faculty ID for my new job, and I look like Eddie Izzard. I'm not sure why nobody told me I look like Eddie Izzard (thanks family and friends! You know, it hurts more when you hide the truth.) I'm not sure what to do here.

Start copying looks in Vogue and Cosmo? Go to a Clinique or some other make-up counter and have them explain the ins and outs of subtle eye shade? Ok who am I kidding? None of those options could ever be associated with subtlety.

In all fairness, I had 2 hours of sleep followed by a 2-hour drive, then 2-hour plane ride followed by 1-hour train, then 1-hour bus...it was a long damn morning. But as a new mom, I'm not sure the day of travel is much different from just being a mom in terms of getting that authentic haggard look. As an example, while grooming my eyebrows the other night, I managed to start with two caterpillar-looking puffs and end with one-and-a-half differently shaped eyebrows. And really, what is the likelihood that a new mom with a new full-time job has the resources to make good, subtle eye make-up happen?

Maybe there's a beginner's make-up application tutorial on YouTube.

more from dove

These aren't from Martha, but Dove continues to put these silly things on their wrappers. I have no choice but to comment.

"You're gorgeous."
My husband tells me that every day, even when I look like crap. What else you got?

"Shut out the world for just one moment."
You know what, the effort it takes to shut out the WHOLE world, I'm going to do that for more than a moment.

"Make every day a holiday."
This is a great suggestion, but what do holidays mean? Candy in differently decorated wrappers - so that after a full year of holiDAILies, I can have a holiday just for my GIANT ass. A paid day off from work - right, except, work is going to stop paying me if I take every day off, and then how will I pay for all of my assorted holiday candies (and my new, larger pants?)

"Be spontaneous."
If you have to tell me to be spontaneous, and I start planning to be spontaneous in response, then I don't think it counts as spontaneous any more.

"Sing along with the elevator music."
First, not a whole lot of elevators where I live. Second, most of the elevator muzak I've heard lately does NOT have words. I could DANCE to the elevator music - sway softly with my eyes closed while others look at me and wonder what the hell is wrong with me.... I'll just stick with singing along with the music in the stores - at least there are words.

office-wide memo

To All Staff:

If you have reached this point in your life and you are unable to operate a simple piece of office equipment like a toilet paper holder, namely taking an empty roll off and putting a full roll on, please report to your supervisor immediately so you can be fired for incompetence.

If you are not incompetent and you had some other reason for just setting a new roll of toilet paper on top of the empty roll, please report to your supervisor so you can be fired for being a lazy sack.*


*Feeling that you are somehow above changing the toilet paper roll is also grounds for a good firing … see your supervisor.

when you're pregnant there are different rules around clothes.

I have reached a point where I just don't have the energy to seek out, wait in line for, and utilize a changing room. Not only does it suck my energy, but if there is a situation where I am removing my pants, my body has decided that it must be time to pee. It's important to be aware of this, especially when my freak out for the week was "I NEED a nightgown for the hospital - something that I can nurse with! Oh my god!"

While out shopping (at a crowded outlet mall, no less), I found it. My dream nightgown - soft, adjustable spaghetti straps, low cut, stretchy, and ugly as sin. I tried on the extra large right there at the rack - over my shirt and pants. It was perfect.

I showed my mom, my sister-in-law, and my husband just how perfect it was. "Look!" I exclaimed as I tugged in turn at each spaghetti strap exposing each covered breast, one at a time. My family members oohed and aahed and joined me in expressing how perfect the nightgown would be as I looked toward the days of expressing milk for our beautiful little girl. I haven't felt this good about shopping or trying on clothes in months.

And for those of you who were in the store, judging my choice NOT to use the changing room, I would refer you to the growing baby bump, and the sweet little girl inside who is shaking her fist (against my uterus) saying, "suck it."

you're a hard woman to find

I'm having a hard time believing that a person was unable to find my mom. I'm not expecting any results from a "GrammaNora" Google search, but in general, she's got a lot of identifiers working for her.

First, she's a high level administrator at an institute of higher learning.
Second, her last name is pretty distinct -- there aren't many of us running around. And even if you put in the first and last names of someone ELSE in the family, her name usually shows up on the first page.

So when GrammaNora said a representative from a state agency had to contact her via a board she was on, I was pretty surprised.
Rep: You're a hard woman to find.
GrammaNora: What?
Rep: I had a really hard time locating your phone number. I couldn't find it anywhere.
GrammaNora: Uh...did you Google me?

I think this state worker takes the agency's "No internet use at work" policy a little too seriously.

real pants have buttons

30 weeks and 2 days pregnant is not a good time to realize that real pants have buttons. It's also not a good time to wear real pants (altered with a hair-tie or not). I took for granted the ease of using the bathroom when there's a giant elastic waist band! Real pants are also not good into 30 weeks when you have back-to-back-to-back-to-back meetings, and then you get pulled into two or three more meetings. I never realized how much time unbuttoning and unzipping and then buttoning and zipping takes. Those seconds add up, especially when you're late for a meeting.

I don't think I'm going back to real pants ever.

here's hoping the birth is less traumatic than the birthing plan

At 30 weeks, it seemed time to start working on the birthing plan.

When will we go to the hospital?
I'll have to talk to someone about how much time I have after my water breaks. I've also been wondering about what happens if I go into labor at work -- do I drive my car home from work while having contractions? Do I have someone else drive my car to my house? My husband picks me up at work, and I leave my car at work until I don't know when?

What can eat or drink during labor?
Don't they only give you ice chips?

Do you want to walk around during labor?
We'll have to see how my legs feel. I have enough trouble walking around NOT during labor.

Do you want to personalize the atmosphere with special music or lighting?
I'll have my ipod, and my droid phone with Pandora and the "Look Away" play list.

Will there be cameras?
Yes, and I made a list of the photos I want to make sure we get.

Do you want to use a mirror to see the birth?
HELL NO!

We're only about 1/6 of the way through, here, but pretty easy...

Do you want to use and IV (see page 372, which says you probably won't have a choice)?
No, but I probably won't have a choice.

Do you want to use pain medication, and what kind? (see page 301 for more information about Epidurals, etc.)
Haven't made up my mind about this, but can I just say that page 302 is the scariest thing I have read ... EVER. Stephen King has NOTHING on a description of an Epidural. That's a lot of needles and prep and potential catheterization. I suggested just not having pain meds at all because as I read further, I didn't like the other options either. When my husband said, "it'll be ok," I told him that I was scared, and then I totally lost it and cried hysterically.

He comforted me for a few minutes, and then he took away the book.

Birth plan is going to have to wait.