What a Decade - The Night I Met The One

Ten years ago, in August 2005, I had been single for about a year and a half. I was on JDate, and being set up by a few people, but met no one special. I wasn't quite feeling pressured about it, but at 25 was certainly ready to settle down and meet my lobster.

My best friend Leslie's husband, Marc, was in law school, and she called me after going out with his friends one night to say she had someone to introduce me to. She'd met him before but only really hung out with him the night before, and knew he was perfect for me instantly. She had told him so as well. 

Now - she had already attempted to fix me up once with another of Marc's law school friends, so I told her not to give this guy my number so we could go on some awkward first date, and that instead I'd meet him out one night with all of their friends. I'd met many of them before, so at least it'd be a low-pressure situation.

A bit of time passed, and it hadn't happened yet - then she called one day to tell me that he had asked Marc about it, so I figured he at least was open to meeting someone, a good sign. We chose a Thursday night when the group would be out celebrating two birthdays at a bar in Hoboken. That was ten years ago last night. 

First, I went to Leslie and Marc's apartment, where she and I split a bottle of white wine. Yes, a whole bottle. It was a beautiful summer night and we drank out on her tiny patio, catching up. Then we went to dinner at a local BYOB Mexican restaurant where they take your bottle of wine and make sangria with it. So we drank - yes - that whole pitcher as well. 

I. Was. Wasted.

We walked into the bar, I got (yet another) drink, and we made our way down the tiny flight of stairs to where their group had gathered. She pointed Evan out to me, and I remember thinking that he looked like such a nice guy, and had the most gorgeous blue eyes. 

Somehow he and I ended up talking. It's all a bit blurry, and thankfully was for him too because he had been there for a while, so I wasn't on such a drastically different level of sobriety than him. I remember asking him where he lived - "Harrison." "Oh, New York? I grew up..." "No, New Jersey." "Oh. Well where did you grow up?" "Middletown." "Oh, New York!?" "No. I'M FROM NEW JERSEY." Ha - that is the first conversation either of us remember having with each other. It was like a Marx Brothers skit from minute one. 

At some point, I wanted to confirm that he knew I was the girl he was supposed to meet, so I think I said something super slick like, "I'm Lesley. We were supposed to meet..." And he stared at me smiling, nodding, and said he knew that. I barely remember anything else - just that he stood right by my side for the rest of the night. I can still remember what it felt like that night, standing next to him and looking up as we talked, though neither of us remember about what. It was instantly comfortable, playful and easy. He bought me another drink (like I needed that!) and told me not to move while he went to get it, and I didn't. Smoking cigarettes was still allowed in Hoboken bars, and at one point while (I think) trying to impress him, I danced and fell (again, suuuuuper slick), burning my hand on one of the butts. THAT I remember. Ouch.

Soon after, he walked me to the PATH train so I could get home to New York City. It was just a few blocks, and we randomly spoke French to each other, because we'd realized we both took it in high school. And I complained about my hand, and he told me he was impressed I wasn't complaining about my feet and shoes like most girls did. And I said that I only wasn't because my burnt hand hurt so damn much.

At the train, he took my number and didn't kiss me good-bye - a move I thought was to leave me wanting a kiss, but I have learned since he was just too shy to make. (All together now - awwwwwwwww...) I left the next day on my annual family vacation (the same trip we are on together right now) and told them all I had met a guy I really liked. He called right after I got back, and we went on our first date a week later. You'll hear about that on that anniversary. 

Happy ten years since we met, Evan...  I'll try not to complain about my shoes hurting tonight! Lerve you...

5QFriday: About to Be a Second-Time Mommy!

My former colleague Luna Newton has changed so much since I met her. She was on accounts of mine at CooperKatz, and a career managee of mine, and we quickly grew close. Since then she has gotten married, had a baby, left the firm and started her own freelance career and is now about to have her second baby. we have been in touch personally and professionally and I can't wait to see what's next for one of the sweetest girls there is!!

In honor of her Sunday due date with her second, here are her answers to questions I posed to her for 5QFriday...

1) What are you most excited for about having a second baby?

I am excited about having a second chance to enjoy the moments that went by so fast with my first. I was so anxious when my daughter was born that I almost wished the newborn phase would pass quickly so that I would know she was going to be okay. I didn't enjoy it as much as I should have and am grateful to have this chance again.

2) What are you most nervous about (if anything!)?

Well, I'm a lot less nervous going into this pregnancy than I was with my first. Throughout my first pregnancy and probably the first six months after my daughter's birth, I was nervous about EVERYTHING. From how my life and friendships would change after baby, to how my marriage would evolve, to how I would be as a mother. Despite my fears, somehow everything fell into place -- my true friends were still there, my marriage become even stronger, and I eventually turned into the best and most confident form of myself that I ever knew, and that was becoming a mom. 

 3) You have effectively been all three - a working mom, a stay-at-home mom and a mom working from home. Which works best for you? Why?

Being a work-at-home mom is the best choice for me right now, at this point in my life, because it offers me the flexibility of being at home with a husband who travels often and fulfills my desire to be physically close to my child, while keeping my professional engine running at the same time. But none of those options are easy for any woman (even if they make it look easy) and all of them take sacrifice. I've had to sacrifice the fun and intelligent day-to-day conversations I had with wonderful colleagues at my old job. I've also had to find ways to continue to grow and develop professionally without having the guidance of my former superiors. 

Being a work-at-home mom and having my own business also comes with a large degree of risk -- I never know if a client will drop me out of the blue, or where I will find my next project and source of income. But I guess that uncertainly is part of life, right? You work hard, put yourself out there, prepare for the worst and always hope for the best. 

4) You have also been a city mom and suburban mom - best differences? Worst? Biggest surprise about life in the 'burbs?

I loved my time living on the Upper West Side but when my daughter was born and we were three people in a one-bedroom apartment, living in the city became a burden. Sleep training (or the lack there of) was a big problem and although we relished our weekend brunches and endless strolls around town with the baby, something had to give. Even though I knew moving to the suburbs was an eventuality for our family, I was a big city girl my whole life and it took a lot to make this move. 

Living in the suburbs does have its advantages. Besides the obvious reasons -- good schools, safe neighborhoods, clean snowy sidewalks and fresh air -- my car has become my best friend and now I can't imagine life without it. It's seriously my safe haven and home away from home. Also the change of pace out here is slower, and when you have kids, I was surprised to realize that it's actually kind of nice -- not boring. Now that I've settled into a good routine and made friends, I realize that aside from marrying my husband, moving here was the best decision I ever made.

5) What is the best piece of parenting advice you've ever gotten?

Trust your instincts. It's not foolproof, but you will usually be right 98 percent of the time. The only exception to this is during the newborn phase when you are jacked up with hormones, sleep-deprived, still healing and emotional. Then I would say, surround yourself with those you fully trust to help you get through this vulnerable time.

The Case for Self-Fullness

At the Warrior Mom Conference, one of the most powerful sessions was learning what it means to thrive after having a PMAD (perinatal mood and anxiety disorder). Kate Kripke from the Postpartum Wellness Center in Boulder talked about what mothers who thrive do, listing things like:

• She knows that feeling anxious is a normal part of motherhood. 
• She is willing to be Good Enough (and she understands that mistakes are even important)
• She accepts and maybe even prides herself on her vulnerabilities
• She understands the need for community and she uses it well

Each of these is profound for a mother who has been through an emotional complication after having their baby. You don't understand that anxiety is normal, because you can't comprehend a manageable level of it. You feel the need to be perfect, as every mom around you appears to be. You find it difficult to be vulnerable, because a chink in your armor is an instant reminder of past problems. And asking for help from people in your chosen community (friends, family, neighbors) is one of the hardest - but most vital - things to do. Each of us works hard at busting through these blockages and a host of others to become the mom we know we can be - an ongoing battle within our post-PMAD selves.

But the part of her speech with which I most personally struggle is that a mother who thrives "understands the need for self-fullness and that this self-fullness is in service of her child(ren)."

"Self-care" is a huge part of motherhood - it is essential to make sure you are filling yourself up in order to have any of yourself to give to others, namely your children and partner. Once I was diagnosed with my PPD, my therapist and just about everyone else said I must take time for things that made me feel like myself. For me, self-care was going out with friends or having visitors, taking time for manicures / pedicures and doing anything mindless like watching television, shopping or even time to just click aimlessly around the internet or my phone. So in the midst of my PPD battle I made sure I did these things. They came easily to me, as I always felt better as soon as I was away from Rebecca - which pushed me even further down the rabbit hole and made me question being a mother even more. Why was it so easy for me to just wave to whoever was watching her, close the door behind me and be on my way? I felt selfish, not self-full.

See, some women's postpartum anxiety and/or depression cause them to become extremely attached to their babies - anyone else wouldn't take care of them as well,or be as vigilant as they are, so no one else could possibly care for their child. I understand how pushing them to do things for themselves is crucial.

My PPD symptom was the polar opposite of that. I felt a total lack of attachment, and thought that anyone else would do a better job taking care of her than I would. I could hand Rebecca off willingly to just about anyone - friends, baby nurses, family, and most often, Evan. So I did, for my prescribed self-care time. And every time I did I felt better momentarily, because the crushing pain of trying to take care of this baby was gone, and then suddenly worse, because WHAT KIND OF MOTHER WILLINGLY GIVES AWAY HER BABY WITHOUT A SECOND GLANCE?! WHY AM I HAPPIER WITHOUT HER? WHAT IS WRONG WITH ME?

I would agonize over how easy it was for me to detach as I went through whatever activity I had chosen, likely defeating a large percentage of the purpose of the self-care - but still, I always arrived home calmer and more able to take care of Rebecca. More self-full in service of my child - though I beat myself up to get there each time.

This weekend, Evan and I went away, just the two of us, so that he could compete in a triathlon. It is also his birthday today (HAPPY BIRTHDAY EVAN!!) so we made the weekend celebratory, taking an extra day away after his race to just let loose. And we did - we drank, we ate, we gambled, we relaxed by the pool and we laughed. We talked without being interrupted by a 4 y.o. or screaming infant. We held hands, we flirted and we remembered how much fun the other is - something that gets lost in our day to day lives of wiping little butts, noses, faces and hands.

And after just 48 hours away, we drove back to my in-laws' to get Rebecca and Lila and bring them home and I was suddenly aware that I felt completely self-full. And as such, I was full of love for my family.

I drove home from my in-laws' house with the girls while Evan drove the other car alone. Lila slept in her car seat and Rebecca and I talked - truly talked - the entire way. We had a nonstop conversation about the weekend she had with Grandma and Grumpa, our plans for the rest of the Summer, and an upcoming trip that we are taking at the end of next week. We talked about the school year to come, and friends and family, and we made each other laugh. It felt like I was chatting with a good friend and was so. much. fun. She is such a big girl - but still so small and adorably hilarious without intending to be - and she makes me swell with pride at least once a day with her memory, sense of humor and imagination.

Back all together again, I was patient, played with, bathed and fed my daughters with a warmth that I hadn't felt in a long time, and even Evan and I were more gentle with each other.

I got in bed that night in awe of my life. Of my relationship with this little girl with whom I initially wanted none. Of my baby, who is a dream. Of my husband, who makes me happier than anyone else in the world. I am so grateful for this past weekend, the self-reflection that the Warrior Mom Conference opened up in me and Kate Kripke. And I finally don't feel guilty about that ability to detach anymore - because taking time for my self-fullness is entirely in service of my children, my husband and myself.

Creating a Monster or Taming a Beast?

Just before Rebecca turned two, she began to exhibit the qualities of the dreaded Terrible Twos, nice and early - as was her way with most milestones. A sudden independent, demanding and more and more often as the next two years went by, downright mean nature overtook my sweet, calm, go-with-the-flow little girl. Usually directed at my husband and me, we often threw up our hands, exasperated and at our wit's end with this precocious daughter of ours.

I counted while I made her breakfast yesterday, and I asked her a total of 11 questions throughout the process. ELEVEN.

1. What do you think you want for breakfast?
2. Pancakes, great - chocolate chips or syrup?
3. Chocolate chips, yum. Just put on the pancakes, or spread after they melt?
4. Whole pancakes or cut into bites?
5. What color plate?
6. Would you like water or orange juice?
7. Which kind of cup - big girl or sippy?
8. Big girl cup - awesome! With a straw or without?
9. The straw is sometimes tall - do you want me to cut it a bit?
10. What color straw?
11. Which table would you like to eat at - your little table or the big one?

I realize this seems extreme. I have realized this for quite some time. And yes, we use the mantra, "you get what you get and you don't get upset" very often - sometimes even successfully - but it doesn't always work. And Rebecca has become quite picky in her four-and-a-half years, and likes things just so. Or else...

Now, I don't think I have to ask every single one of these questions - if I just gave her pancakes on a yellow plate and OJ with a red straw in a blue cup she may eat them just the same. 

BUT - if she wanted syrup and not chocolate chips? Or wanted them whole and I had ripped them into bites (I mean cut them - who would just rip apart mini pancakes instead of using a utensil? Certainly not me...)? Or wanted the chips just placed on and oozy vs. my smearing them after they melted? Meltdown city. She'd refuse to eat them, and I promise you that girl's will is stronger than anyone I've ever met (except maybe her father). This is the girl who wouldn't potty train until she was just over 3 1/2, and prior to that would sit on the plastic bowl for twenty minutes, not let out a drop, then stand and pee next to it when we let her get up. Seriously, she's got some willpower.

So to head these tantrums off at the pass, especially once her sister was born, I got used to asking Rebecca the questions I needed answers to in order to get things done smoothly. I'd rather ask and do it her way than need to remake her breakfast or have her not eat anything. Because the only thing worse than a vindictive Rebecca, is a HANGRY one. For real.

So what I wondered yesterday is - is it better to ask these questions, ensure a smooth road and tame the beast that she can become, or am I in fact creating a monster?! I fear I know the answer here... but I have seen what comes when I assume the answers, so for now will not attempt to do so. 

Oh, and lest you think this is just about breakfast, I assure you it is not. In each scenario below, making the choice for her has resulted in a tantrum that it is just not worth it to have, in my opinion, when she will quite happily answer...

• Which stuffed animal friend is coming to preschool with you today?
• Which toothbrush do you want to use? Which toothpaste? 
• What do you want to wear today? Which Frozen one - the Olaf tank? The Anna and Elsa tee? The longsleeve one? The Elsa dress? The Anna dress? The Elsa and Anna and Olaf and Kristoff tutu dress? Siiiiiiiiigh....
• What movie should we watch?
• What pajamas do you want to wear?
• Which underpants are you going to wear?
• Do you want to drive, scoot or walk to school?
• Where should we go to dinner tonight? (On this one, Evan and I often override her decision. Don't come between us and our food, Bex...)

The past couple of weeks, though, I have noticed we are starting to potentially turn a corner (I won't say more - and wait for my next post, on jinxing things, to find out why). Recently she has been more easygoing, letting down her Terrible Twos / Terrifying Threes / F&%$ing Fours armor and even being... nice!!! It's so wonderful to see this girl again, and I think I can see a light at the end of this tunnel - one not filled with questions and tantrums, but amazing fun times with my big girl, and her little sister who - dammit - turns two in a little over a year.

The Second Child...

Lila is on the move - she crawls faster than I walk sometimes, cruises around our sofa and coffee table, has started climbing onto stools and other low-lying surfaces such as the dishwasher, and walks quite well while holding onto our hands. We broke out Rebecca's old plastic walker, and yesterday she began to slowly master that too.

I am ready for her to walk - I really hate the crawling stage, when they are licking the floors (or is that just our child?) and picking up every piece of dust / hair / old Cheerio / other assorted crap that is apparently all over our floor they find because that's eye level for them. Also, crawling in public places is even worse than at our apartment - at least there I know whose Cheerios and hair it is.

We have an annual family trip in a month, and I definitely want Lila to be walking before that. Rebecca was only seven months the first year we brought her there, so not moving yet - that was perfect - and then the next year she toddled around at 1 1/2 years old. Having Lila crawl all around the pool is just not as appealing as her walking, so we're doing a bit of walking boot camp to make sure she's ready by then.

But - am I really ready for her to be WALKING!? That makes her officially a toddler, and hardly a baby anymore - which as we know, I'm okay with - but it also means... she will be even more of a terror than she already is!! I'm telling you - this girl is sweet as pie, but into EVERYTHING - cabinets, climbing shelves, eating shoes, licking the dishwasher, turning on the DVD player and eating the disc that comes out, sitting in the fridge, pushing items off the ledge of and into the bathtub, and the toilet - well let's just say, we now keep the bathroom doors and commode lids closed.

Rebecca never did any of this, I swear. That girl understood when we said no, and never tried whatever antic it was again. I never got why people needed the plastic guards for the front of their cable boxes and DVD players... until we had Lila. She has singlehandedly proven the worth of every childproofing (or as Evan calls it, "Evan-proofing") invention out there.

I've talked to so many people about this - the second child being crazier than the first - and SO many say that this happened to them too. I've come up with three reasons why:

1) Duh - they want to be like their older sibling. When Rebecca makes noise - ANY noise - it is like a bat signal to Lila. Her head whips around to find her sister, and she immediately must go to wherever she is. Which Rebecca loves, causing her to make even more noise than she used to (if that is possible), starting the never-ending cycle all over again. Don't get me wrong - nothing makes me happier than the two of them playing together and watching the amazing bond they are already forming, and I always stop whatever it was I was trying to get done to let them have their time together.

2) There is such interesting stuff around the house now - when Rebecca was born,we had toys suitable for her or else boring grown-up stuff. Now, there are Lila toys, Rebecca toys, in-between toys, art supplies and grown-up stuff... which, incidentally, is apparently not boring at all to Lila. Seriously, hand that girl a remote, cordless phone, cell phone, tissue box, bowl, spoon, or anything else that is not a toy and she is all about it. But don't you dare make it a Fisher-Price version of any of those items - what do you think she is, a fool?!

3) I'm not able to sit with her 100% of the time. With just Rebecca, I was either with her or doing something for her - now, I have tasks to accomplish for both of them - food or bottles to prepare, clothes to wash or pick out or change them into, diapers to change or a tush to wipe, toys or dressup outfits to put back in their rightful place (ha! yeah right.)... It's a never-ending dance, and Lila doesn't seem to like it.

We bought a playpen for Lila, thinking that being inside of that with all of her toys would be great and allow me the freedom to accomplish all I have to without worrying that she was a foot off the ground somewhere, but she stands at the edge of it and screams bloody murder when you put her inside. So we use that quite sparingly to say the least. Instead, we either carry Lila around while we do things, let her crawl behind us whining as we do them, or throw the girl a remote control to get her to sit still while we take care of what needs to be done. Whatever it takes.

Caught amidst a gathering of her favorite thing - shoes.

I recently took my first long, solo car ride with the girls. Two-and-a-half hours down to Margate NJ with just one stop at a Target so Rebecca could go to the bathroom and Lila could eat a pouch. By the last half hour, Lila was D. O. N. E. with that car seat and would not settle down. I frantically searched the passenger seat for anything I could throw back to her to occupy her time, hands and mouth - and laid eyes on Rebecca's Croc. Yes, the one she had worn in the pool that day at camp. Much like a puppy, Lila has a penchant for shoes - licking, sucking on and taking bites of them. She can hone in on a pair from across the room and be next to them, with it in her mouth in a flash, it's actually impressive. So I am not proud of what happened next, but am proud that I had the instinct to wipe it down with an antibacterial wipe before tossing it to Lila - and wouldn't you know, not another peep for the rest of the ride. Hey, whatever it takes, right? Sigh...

The Changing Nature of Photographs

I love taking pictures and videos, and my iPhone is a permanent fixture in my hand because of that. I come by it naturally - growing up, my father was never without a camera in his hand and in our face.  Still camera images exist of all trips, milestones and occasions. The video camera was like an extra guest at all family events, and this was before it was the size of your palm. But he was onto something, because watching the videos that he made, and flipping though the albums of images of my sister's and my childhood is a favorite pastime of our family - and something our kids have grown to love doing as well. Seeing us when we were their age, or watching our wedding videos and seeing family members appear on TV makes them giggle non-stop.

If - knock on wood - anything ever happened to our family home, we knew that the first thing to retrieve was those albums - all the memories they contained are infinitely more priceless than any other object we owned. And I am at the point now of not knowing if the memories that I keep in my head are in fact my own or from examining those images and watching those videos year after year.

When leaving for camp, or one of my trips out West or to Israel, or even when I studied abroad in Spain my junior year in college, I spent tons of money purchasing film, developing rolls and reliving moments. You never knew what image you had captured, if all eyes were open, if someone had stolen your camera and taken an image without letting you know. Half of the fun of those trips was getting your pictures - doubles obviously so you could trade with friends - back from being developed, and we would sit often in the parking lot or store itself to flip through them immediately.

Since having Rebecca, and now Lila too, I take - at least - ten pictures a day. The most mundane moments have been deemed photo-worthy now that cameras are so easily accessible and I am certainly guilty of oversharing these on Facebook or Instagram. I send pictures to my parents and sister of the girls almost daily, and videos with increasing reckless abandon as well.

But...

I hardly have any photos printed or framed. We've never put any of the videos I capture on my iPhone on the television. And other than Rebecca's Welcome Book or the one from her first year of life (and I'll pat my own back for even getting those done), I don't have anything filled with the digital images I've taken for my girls to look through. I have a few hard copies printed every few months or so to give to family members, per pointed requests from them, but otherwise, they exist on my iPhone. Or - even less accessible - in "the cloud..."

We do look through my phone from time to time at old pics or videos and laugh, and when I take the time to bust out our Canon DSLR for special events I am better about uploading the images to the computer, but without the constraints of a 24-exposure roll of film (or the even better 36!), I am absolutely still guilty of overshooting. This then makes culling through and choosing favorites that much more of a chore, and one that gets pushed back and back until I have time (which - newsflash - is never).

I realized this weekend as I re-watched this amazing video of Rebecca and Lila on the beach in Margate that while photos and videos have become  a constant part of our every day, they are that much less special, which is bittersweet. So I'm going to make a point to go back to my family roots - to make the digital books so that we can reminisce together, even when my phone is out of juice or we can't access the cloud. And this time with the added benefit of them being stored there, in case anything does ever happen to them. Wish me luck... and the stamina I'll need to cull through the now 5,000 images on my phone...

5QFriday - Expectant Mommy Q&A!

My friend Brittny is one-of-a-kind. Truly. Hilarious - outgoing - thoughtful - hilarious - did I mention hilarious?! She cracks me up more than anyone else, and since she lives in DC, our in-person laughing sessions are few and far between. 

Brit and I bachelorette party-ing it up back in the day!

Thankfully, this weekend we are getting together! It's my annual Summer Girls' Weekend at our friend Leslie's family's house in Margate, NJ. One of my favorite traditions, everyone comes with their spouses, kids, and this year - the bun in Brit's oven!! That's right, a little baby Brit is on the way - watch out world... So in honor of her pregnancy and the soon-to-be newest member of our group's second generation, here are Brit's answers to my 5Qs...

1)      What part of having a baby are you most excited about?  

I cannot wait to see what amazing cocktail my husband and I have created… AND to have an actual cocktail (I dream of mojitos)! The notion that there is going to be a little being infused with both of our crazy personalities keeps me up at night with excitement, and (admittedly) a little fear for her toddler and teenage years. The thought of constant entertainment thrills me to no end. I can’t wait to feel that instantaneous love and all that will ensue as she grows.

A month after marriage, we fell into the typical cliché and adopted a 7 year old golden retriever from my mother-in-law. Never having grown up with a doggy, I had no idea what to expect. We’re obsessed. The unconditional love, the pull to leave work/a party/a baseball game ANYTHING because you just want to be with that little furry pup and the fact that she made us a “family” and not simply a couple has changed our lives. I cannot even begin to imagine that I’ll soon be feeling these same emotions (quite a bit stronger, I’m sure!) for a little piece of us that I’ve been carrying for the past 9 months. It’s going to be a special thing. 

2)     What makes you the most nervous to think about?

The fact that I may be a little naive as to how hard parenting actually is—ok, very naïve. Growing up I was pretty much a professional babysitter. I spent 75% of my teenage years bring grounded so I figured I might as well get paid for it and learn some “life skills” along the way. I would wrangle a family of 4 kids with ease—loading up the Suburban and carting them to hockey/tennis/out for fro yo like a mini Mama. I felt a true satisfaction after they were all snuggled in their beds at the end of a long day.  So just ONE is going to be nooooooo problem—right?! Wrong. I am confident that I will soon find out otherwise. I do not have that 16 year old energy, the carelessness of thinking that 2 packs of Gushers wont really hurt in the long run, a full-time job, a mortgage….shall I go on? I’m in for a rude awakening.

I’m also worried about juggling work with the baby— things like firming up the “routine” and hoping that returning to reality in January isn’t going to be hellacious. I’m super organized and very on top of things at work and oddly let personal matters (“bills? what bills?!”) go by the wayside on the home front. Fortunately, my husband is amazing and keeps me in check. I realize that I have to apply the same rigor and organization and planning to my family’s personal life that I do to my professional life. Translation: time to grow up. 

3)     What is the craziest thing that has happened to you while pregnant?  

I work in the only building in Washington, DC that employs full-time elevator operators. There is one in particular—a little spitfire—that I have grown especially fond of. We batner, and it was going well… until I got pregnant. She has become my daily “self-check”  mirror each time I board that elevator. I struggled initially with “dressing the bump”—really wanting to steer clear of Pea in the Pod’s finest empire waist dresses which tended to dwarf my petite (at the time) frame. So—I creatively thought I would try to squeeeeze my way into my pre-preg frocks… well, not so much. As the belly grew, my hemlines lifted and my once work appropriate dresses got a little… scandalous. It may or may not have looked like the bump and I were headed to “da club” and not "da office." One day I was wearing a particularly form-fitting dress and my personal mirror and devil on my shoulder (aka. Ms. Elevator Operator) bluntly advised me to “start wearing maternity dresses.” “This is one!” I giggled (blatantly lying through my teeth) while trying to simultaneously pull down my northbound hemline. She looked me up, down then dead in the eyes while shaking her head:  “No… no, it’s not.” Lesson learned.

4)     We all know people offer their unsolicited advice when you're knocked up - What has been the BEST advice you have gotten from a mom so far? 

So true. I also think that some people get a personal thrill and satisfaction in regaling you with their horror stories.  (“Oh, but that won’t happen to YOU….” ) I’m honestly pretty open to advice (from people that I trust and love) as I feel that prior to getting pregs, I really glazed over the baby talk until it actually applied to me. Ahem, earmuffs to my amazing friends who now think that I blocked out the past 5+ years of convos—that wasn’t the case, I swear... ;) Bring on the good tips….I need em’! I've been fortunate enough to have a parade of friends who are Mommy role models to me. 

International Supermom Leslie “How does she do it?” Meunier (another 5QFriday contributor) advised us to get out and about while we can (first 6 months) before baby gets on a strict schedule. Many others have told us that your life does not have to stop when baby comes. Take them out, travel with them… I’m game! We have a bevy of bars and restaurants literally around the corner from our house—city living!—I don’t want to be a prisoner in my home when baby arrives. Baby in a bar anyone?

5)     What advice do you have for other pregnant women?

It goes by quickly—as does everything. OK, I am lying a bit. The first trimester can seem to be a never-ending haze of napping and comfort food but then it starts to fly. Be good to yourself—sleep when you want to sleep, eat when you want to eat and practice lots of “self-care.” That little lovie is relying on you to be good to your body.  If this is your first, enjoy the precious time with your mate/husband. Despite your hormones, remember that you’re a team. He's part of what got you into this predicament in the first place! If you’re sweet to him (“paws, not claws,” mine is constantly reminding me) he will be sweet right on back to you. You’re in this together although many times it may feel like the burden is yours alone. It is not. I found that when I am active (walking, spinning, pilates...whatever your poison) I feel better. When attempting to shave your legs without toppling over is the first of many hurdles you’re going to encounter all day, try your hardest to remember—being pregnant and growing this special little life is an absolute gift. It’s the ultimate gift that will keep on giving and I’m looking forward to meeting mine at the end of August.  (Lesley's Note - I've always been eager to meet every single child my friends have had - but this one? For some reason, I can. Not WAIT. To see what Brit and DJ have created :) LOVE YOU GIRLLLLLLLL!)