MOM CONFESSIONALS

I have always had eczema since I was a child. It was mostly confined to my hands for most of my life and the occasional flare up on my face, although I remember one stint on my foot and of course, the usual crook of my arms, back of my knees and junction of my underarms. Sometimes it got so bad, I’ve actually gone to First Aid and had my skin scrubbed raw. I had used every topical prescription on the market including Protopic, the now black labeled topical steroid cream.

Revealing a more masochistic side of me, I remember in the middle of the night, secretly turning on the faucet until it was scalding hot, to give my itchy hands some relief… despite my parents and my doctors telling me that it would make my skin more dry and cause the eczema to flare up even more. All I knew was after a few dips in the scalding hot water, my skin didn’t itch anymore and I wasn’t spending the night consumed with tearing the skin off my fingers until it bleed or filled with puss, allowing me to fall asleep before the itch returned. I now know it was probably because I killed those nerves that told me it itched.

This is what I call being a good parent. Only now because of my pregnancy, do I heed what my doctor is actually telling me. When my eczema flared up to the worst it has ever been in my life, I was begging for some relief. None was given, but much advice was dispensed. My flare up, which the doctor said had much to do with stress, had now consumed my entire body, with the exception of my feet. It began on both my face and my stomach, spreading to my arms and my legs and now my back… little red welts, dry skin patches and an incredible itchiness which I spend practically all day willing myself not to scratch. Under the advice of my doctor, I slathered on the Aquaphor, even though the idea of something so thick on even my face grossed me out. Desperation, makes you do things you never thought you would do. Instead of scalding hot water, I turned the other knob, to gradually ice cold. Even my showers start at warm, to ease myself in, and then slowly the knob turns colder and colder and colder as I progressed. Now the additional bonus I felt, was that I was being a little more environmental. I wasn’t utilizing or wasting energy to heat up more water. I still spent the following hour after the shower, with aquaphor slathered on, a bottle of Sarna nearby for the itch I can’t resist, willing myself not to scratch and doing a lot of slow, calming, breathing to bring my body temperature down. But I did see a significant improvement on how often I wanted to scratch and a major significant improvement in the eczema flare up. While most bumpy eruptions appear after my shower, by morning they are reduced to flat little red dots on my body. Any itch equaled dry patch and on came the dab of aquaphor and some more breathing until the itch subsided. While I’m sure some drug out there post pregnancy would make it all disappear instantly, I was happy to find a more natural approach to dealing with my chronic eczema. It also gave me some sympathy for a much younger self, I really didn’t had this kind of self control as a child, to not scratch or not scald my skin. Hopefully if any of my children have to suffer the same condition, I will be more sympathetic to their pain.

The hardest part of all of this wasn’t even the willing not to scratch, but rather something inevitable that I kept pushing off, weaning my daughter off breastfeeding. My doctor concluded that the stress of school, nursing my 2 year old and providing nourishment to a developing fetus which having severe nausea was causing my body to act out in the form of major eczema flare ups. While we knew the nausea should get better soon, school and fetus was inevitable but my daughter’s nursing days had to end. In some sense, while it was heartbreaking for the both of us, I know that in the end it will be better for us both. With the new baby coming in 5 short months, I hope this gives her enough time to forget about breastfeeding and avoid the jealousy that might have ensued watching the new baby nurse with Mommy when she wasn’t allowed to anymore. I am happy that at least I was able to surpass my 2 year mark even if it was only for a few weeks past and am confident that I put her health on the right path.

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Sigh… this pregnancy is so COMPLETELY different that my last one. Not only am I nausea all the time… I’ve got all sorts of food aversions which most of the time I don’t realize until the food is in front of me and I want to hurl… but to top it all off… my skin is in its worst condition EVER! I’ve got a rash all over my stomach… mostly concentrated according to the doctor, on my stretch marks… but it has spread to my legs… and most horrifyingly to my FACE! I want to tear the skin off everywhere! It’s so consumingly itchy!!! Trying to find some relief, I was happy to find some Calming Cream in my closet along with a bottle of Sarna… feel the cooling relief… ahhhh! It’s shortlived though… I had been using Cutivate prior to my pregnancy for the treatment of my minor excema outbreaks and was told by my OB that it was OK as a topical steroid for me to use. For some reason today… after applying just a dab on my face today, hoping for some quick remedy before the wedding we have to attend on friday afternoon… I decided to do some research on the internet… NOW I’m frightened…
From http://www.themedicine.net/drugs/cutivate.html
Topical corticosteroids like Cutivate may cause birth defects especially when applied in large amounts. If you are or think you may be pregnant, do not use Cutivate without first checking with your doctor.

Nursing mothers should switch to bottle feed while using Cutivate.

From http://www.rxlist.com/cutivate-lotion-drug.htm
Pregnancy Category C. Corticosteroids have been shown to be teratogenic in laboratory animals when administered systemically at relatively low dosage levels. Some corticosteroids have been shown to be teratogenic after dermal application in laboratory animals.

Systemic embr yofetal development studies were conducted in mice, rats and rabbits. Subcutaneous doses of 15, 45 and 150 µg/kg/day of fluticasone propionate were administered to pregnant female mice from gestation days 6 – 15. A teratogenic effect characteristic of corticosteroids (cleft palate) was noted after administration of 45 and 150 µg/kg/day (less than the MRHD in adults based on body surface area comparisons) in this study.

Subcutaneous doses of 10, 30 and 100 µg/kg/day of fluticasone propionate were administered to pregnant female rats in two embryofetal development studies (one study administered fluticasone propionate from gestation days 6 – 15 and the other study from gestation days 7 – 17). In the presence of maternal toxicity, fetal effects noted at 100 µg/kg/day (less than the MRHD in adults based on body surface area comparisons) included decreased fetal weights, omphalocele, cleft palate, and retarded skeletal ossification.

I can’t even go on… I don’t think I’ve used it that often during my pregnancy, but only a handful of times… but definitely during my first trimester… Normally I am ever so cautious, and with Ava’s pregnancy I didn’t touch anything prescription based other than my prenatals. Has my relaxed attitude gotten me in trouble? and I have my Ultrascreen today…

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Two years ago yesterday, my life changed forever… in a GOOD, wonderful, amazing way. My dreams of being a mother became a reality with the birth of my daughter. So yesterday I could not stop sitting there staring at her, thinking what an amazing kid she is. I still cannot believe it’s been two years since she was born. It seemed like yesterday I was obsessively trying to nurse her, and spending countless hours just staring at her sleeping. Now she walks and talks, smiles and laughs… she’s such a funny kid, so full of life, a bundle of energy. Even in a bad day, after just watching her for a few minutes, you can’t help but smile at her.

This is the conversation I had with her last night as we were getting ready for her bedtime.

Mommy: Happy Birthday, my Ava!
Ava: Happy Birthday to you… (singing the song…)
Mommy: Ava, did you have fun at your birthday party?
Ava shakes her head in an emphatic Yes!
Mommy: Did you get everything you wished for?
Ava again shakes her head in an emphatic Yes!
Mommy: What did you wish for?
Ava: Cake… and Ice Cream… and Chocolate!
Ava: Thank You Daddy! Thank You Mommy!

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Is it just me or is the news about Jon & Kate so sad. I know many people have opinions about the show, and of course Jon & Kate. Call me a SAP, but I was really rooting for them. Maybe it’s just being a mom that makes me have sympathy for them. Some might say they exploited their children for money, and point fingers at Kate mostly. Others also might criticize their parenting which is on display for the whole world to see. I can’t help but to be understanding. I think most people forget how young they are. Although I’m sure I knew this before, having Jon say he’s only 32 years old, made any criticism I had if any, a non-point. I’m 31 years old and trying my best to manage one child, fearing a household with two soon… and they’ve got 8! I’m sure that having so many children has changed them both. At the beginning of the show I appreciated the Yin and Yang of their relationship and often, to the rolling of my husband’s eyes, related. I dub myself Kate and my husband Jon. He’s definitely more relaxed than I am and often takes parenting cues from me. I’ve had those Kate moments where I wished my DH husband would grow up. It works for us, although if we had 8 kids… Having children forces us to grow up a lot faster than many of us even expected. You can try your best to be prepared, but nothing ever quite prepares you for parenthood, even if you were the most motherly of your friends. As parents, we’re not perfect and yet we hold this couple up to an insane amount of scrutiny. Yes, they asked for this in some ways, but I’m sure they didn’t think it would come to this. I’m not saying I agree with all of there choices, some of Jon’s as Kate said were questionable, but they’re young and they’re learning just like we have, on the job. I’ve definitely had moments where I’ve lost my cool for one reason or another. I can’t sit and beat myself up over it again and again. I have to learn and move on. Sometimes it takes more than one time to reinforce a change in behavior, but that’s what we do as parents. As a mom I sympathize most with Kate. We’re held up to a much higher standard than father’s are. We’re suppose to keep the family together with a smile on our face all the time. How we do it is what is being scrutinized on a daily basis. Kate runs the ship, but it has to be done and I think that’s what everyone forgets. She’s tough and firm and highly scheduled, but isn’t that how it should be? Haven’t we read enough studies on how kids thrive in stability, with rules and structure. I think that is exactly what Kate is trying to do while having a 9th child in Jon. I don’t know what it is about father’s, but many don’t begin to really embrace the role of parenting until much later on. Mom’s are moms from the moment of conception. We’re ON the job right from the start. We’re willing to sacrifice anything and so much while father’s seemed to think they don’t have to give up anything at all. When they finally face that there lives have changed, they reluctantly and unwillingly, sometimes grudgingly give up little by little. What I hate most is when they seem to question if we’re doing enough. I appreciate the father’s who do appreciate their wives as mothers. Most recently a close family friend laughed at my DH’s inability to give up golf. He simply stated and most appropriately so, he hasn’t grown up yet or embraced his responsibilities huh? Nope, its still a bargaining chip. He thinks he can give a little to get his golf game — the grudgingly, reluctant, unwillingness to give up anything for fatherhood. So he’ll give me a little home renovation for a chance to play golf, completely forgoing the parenting part. Shouldn’t the give a little, get a little involve parenting? I guess the old rule still stands true, women mature faster then men.
So today I grieve for Jon & Kate plus their eight little munchkins. Some still think this is a publicity stunt, but I think the feelings are real and very raw… and I hope they do find some peace in all of this… No one should be pointing fingers until they’ve walked in their shoes. We can all assume we might do things differently but might be shocked to see what happens if it really became reality for us.

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After a terrifying scare yesterday I am taking things easy for the next few days. Thankfully the baby is okay, I was so relieved to see his/her little heartbeat on the sonogram screen. I literally was hyperventilating and didn’t want to look at the screen until the doctor saw the baby. I was so terrified that the baby either wasn’t there anymore or worse… dead. Waking up to a toilet full of blood and what looked like a full period to me sent me from 0 to -1000 as far as emotions went. I couldn’t even help but assume the worst and think of all the things I had done recently to cause this happen. My father in law of course couldn’t help to interject that I just HAD to lift the huge projection TV and get the dolly out from under it the day before. Meanwhile in my head I’m chastising myself for the 2 oysters I had to have since I was getting it FRESH from the source or maybe it was the taste of banana flambe that had rum in it I took at dinner or maybe those 2 Sangria’s I had before I found out I was pregnant weeks ago that set the pregnancy already weak. I spent the excruciating hour before I could see the doctor, bargaining with God, begging him to let my baby be okay. Thankfully this time we’re okay. It’s almost as if I can’t get a break. My husband recently said to me that I seem to be so lax with this pregnancy, eating steaks medium or drinking Pepsi. I guess compared to my pregnancy with Ava, I have been. I would not have had steak period since I consider anything less than medium rare uneatable. I didn’t give into my Pepsi/Coke cravings until much further along and usually not more than a few sips. Is it so wrong just to want to be normal. I want to be that pregnant woman that says I’m going to eat whatever I want because I’m nausea and whatever wants to go in, will go in. I’m so tired of the rules… It’s not for lack of love for this baby, or lack of wanting him/her because I do so. I just want to breath… not have to worry every second, second guess every decision I make. I want to enjoy this pregnancy. Instead I’m the woman who instead of renting her fetal Doppler, bought one last night. Hoping that it will give me the peace of mind I need when I think something is wrong. Instead I’m the one sitting at home… resting… praying the baby won’t just drop out of me… surfing the Internet and researching the latest baby gear that has come out since Ava’s birth…

then the next minute, I’m upset because everyone keeps calling this baby… #2… why does it bother me so much?! I’ve been so careful with my wording… yes, we expecting again… or we’re having another baby… but never giving him or her a number… it is too hard to ask in this day in age where people are having conception problems to be a little more politically correct? sigh… i do know that no one is doing it out of spite, rather they probably don’t know or have forgotten. Perhaps it’s the later that is bothering me so much. Forgetting… the one thing I don’t ever want to do. RIP Emma…

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Have you been feeling a little uncool, out of the loop ever since you became a parent? Yea, me too. No more am I the in-the-know on the latest, greatest and newest restaurants in ever so hip NYC. Unfortunately my only association with any culinary delights is an indulgence in the late night TV of the Food Network. Thank God for Bobby Flay, Tyler Florence and friends! I dream of being a gourmet chef and every once in a while if I fancy a trip into the city’s many architecturally beautiful culinary sites, I get to pretend. Not to mention I fear becoming that uncool parent… so happily I squeal with delight in Cookie & Gourmet Magazine’s Kid Restaurant Week. Starting June 20-28th in NYC, some of my favorite spots including BLT Fish have opened up their doors at a kid-friendly time of 5-7pm with special menus priced for this economy – kids pay their age! Time to test their grown-up manners, Parents get to indulge in adult fares that don’t include chicken nuggets or mac and cheese (unless its got lobster or truffles in it) while their kids enjoy a taste of the good life Mom & Dad use to live once upon a time… Another reason to indulge is proceeds are given to local charities… check it out!

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It’s funny how planning kid’s birthday party really is more for the parents than for the kids… I find I always try to out do myself… but yet somehow it always winds up a half spectacular half plain effort… I guess that could be said to be my style. It’s almost like the best part of having kids is planning all their wonderful birthday parties. Ava is only just shy of 2 years old, with her shindig in just a few weeks and I’m already thinking about what to do for her 3rd birthday party… Even crazier, I’m thinking about her yet to be born sibling’s momentous 100 day celebration. Even if it’s not a boy – it’s sure to be spectacular for sure – at least I hope so!

This year Ava’s 2nd birthday is a Hello Kitty Circus Themed party at the Long Island Children’s Museum. As far as the circus theme goes, it only goes as far as her invitations and perhaps the labels on the gift bags. There will be Hello Kitty Tattoos and a matching pinata… hopefully some themed treats to go in it. That’s where the spectacular-ness ends… sadly it lacks in what was envisioned… the guest list limited to only family and close friends, which meant her due date buddies only – yea all 12 of them! I had envisioned her classmates (from daycare) and all her little friends running wild in the museum… sadly 15 kids was the max, and I would have been closer to 40 kids… who knew my little one would be so popular! With a couple more weeks to go and still time to make minor improvements here and there – not to mention still order the birthday cake ~ argh! – I’m trying to think of a more personal touch. I contemplated personalized M&M’s with Ava’s adorable little mug on it… but thought that might actually be a better idea for her siblings 100 day celebration – think Red & Gold M&M’s with Chinese proverbs… kitchy and cute~! Browsing through a friend’s scrap booking catalog I was suddenly inspired to make treat bags… filled with either kettle corn popcorn or roasted circus peanuts or even yummier… my favorite Tate’s Bake Shop cookies! which leads to what I stumbled upon, the recipe for Tate’s Bake Shop Chocolate Chip Cookies:

Ingredients:

• 2 cups all-purpose flour
• 1 teaspoon baking soda
• 1 teaspoon salt
• 1 cup salted butter, 2 sticks
• 3/4 cup sugar
• 3/4 cup dark brown sugar, firmly packed
• 1 teaspoon water
• 1 teaspoon vanilla
• 2 large eggs
• 2 cups semi-sweet chocolate chips

Directions:

1. Preheat oven to 350°F.
2. Grease or line 2-3 cookie sheets with parchment paper.
3. In a large bowl, stir together flour, baking soda and salt.
4. In another large bowl, cream the butter and sugars, then add the water and vanilla. Mix until just combined.
5. Add eggs to the butter mixture and mix them lightly.
6. Stir in the flour mixture. When flour is mixed in, fold in the chocolate chips.
7. Drop 2 tablespoonfuls of the cookie dough 2-inches apart onto prepared cookie sheets. Make sure the cookie sheets are well greased. I like to use parchment paper.
8. Bake for 12-17 minutes or until the edges and centers of the cookies are golden brown.
9. Remove from oven and allow to cool on wire racks.

{ from Recipezaar }

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Why do doctors become idiots once the line between their specializations overlap? Even if I didn’t have high-risk pregnancies it infuriates me that once I become sick, my OB/GYN and my general practitioner both point fingers at each other. It’s as if neither wants to take responsibility if something goes wrong. As if I don’t have enough things to worry about, now I have to think if either have mine and my baby’s best interest in their suggested care.

I do believe in the power of good customer care. I appreciate when my pharmacist, at Super-Target, sees me and remembers that I am pregnant, even if she doesn’t know my name. She does work at Super-Target of course and probably sees thousands of people each week. I love my manicurists, even if they weren’t such a deal, I’d still go to them because they remember my name and are always so nice.

Sometimes friends disappoint. Its funny how friends you expect to hurt you, won’t and the one you don’t expect, will. But also how friends can surprise you. When you give a person the benefit of the doubt, you might be surprised by how great they really can be.

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Originally written by Mary Schmich of the Chicago Tribune, later rights were purchased by Australian film director Baz Luhrmann and turned into a song. It gives some timeless sage advice that every now and then we need to be reminded of…

Ladies and Gentlemen of the class of ’97… wear sunscreen.
If I could offer you only one tip for the future, sunscreen would be IT.
The long term benefits of sunscreen have been proved by scientists whereas the rest of my advice has no basis more reliable than my own meandering experience.
I will dispense this advice now.
Enjoy the power and beauty of your youth. Never mind. You will not understand the power and beauty of your youth until they have faded. But trust me, in 20 years you’ll look back at photos of yourself and recall in a way you can’t grasp now how much possibility lay before you and how fabulous you really looked.
You are NOT as fat as you imagine.
Don’t worry about the future; or worry, but know that worrying is as effective as trying to solve an algebra equation by chewing bubblegum. The real troubles in your life are apt to be things that never crossed your worried mind; the kind that blindside you at 4pm on some idle Tuesday.
Do one thing every day that scares you.
Sing.
Don’t be reckless with other people’s hearts, don’t put up with people who are reckless with yours.
Floss.
Don’t waste your time on jealousy; sometimes you’re ahead, sometimes you’re behind. The race is long, and in the end, it’s only with yourself.
Remember compliments you receive, forget the insults; if you succeed in doing this, tell me how.
Keep your old love letters, throw away your old bank statements.
Stretch.
Don’t feel guilty if you don’t know what you want to do with your life. The most interesting people I know didn’t know at 22 what they wanted to do with their lives, some of the most interesting 40 year olds I know still don’t.
Get plenty of calcium.
Be kind to your knees, you’ll miss them when they’re gone.
Maybe you’ll marry, maybe you won’t, maybe you’ll have children, maybe you won’t, maybe you’ll divorce at 40, maybe you’ll dance the funky chicken on your 75th wedding anniversary. Whatever you do, don’t congratulate yourself too much or berate yourself, either. Your choices are half chance, so are everybody else’s. Enjoy your body, use it every way you can. Don’t be afraid of it, or what other people think of it, it’s the greatest instrument you’ll ever own.
Dance. Even if you have nowhere to do it but in your own living room.
Read the directions, even if you don’t follow them.
Do NOT read beauty magazines, they will only make you feel ugly.
Get to know your parents, you never know when they’ll be gone for good.
Be nice to your siblings; they are your best link to your past and the people most likely to stick with you in the future.
Understand that friends come and go, but for the precious few you should hold on. Work hard to bridge the gaps in geography in lifestyle because the older you get, the more you need the people you knew when you were young.
Live in New York City once, but leave before it makes you hard; live in Northern California once, but leave before it makes you soft.
Travel.
Accept certain inalienable truths, prices will rise, politicians will philander, you too will get old, and when you do you’ll fantasize that when you were young prices were reasonable, politicians were noble and children respected their elders.
Respect your elders.
Don’t expect anyone else to support you. Maybe you have a trust fund, maybe you’ll have a wealthy spouse; but you never know when either one might run out.
Don’t mess too much with your hair, or by the time you’re 40, it will look 85.
Be careful whose advice you buy, but, be patient with those who supply it. Advice is a form of nostalgia, dispensing it is a way of fishing the past from the disposal, wiping it off, painting over the ugly parts and recycling it for more than it’s worth.
But trust me on the sunscreen.

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