As if Viagra commercials weren't enough, there is a new prescription product being advertised that grosses me out on a whole new level.
Latisse - "When your lashes grow, your lashes show."
For more than $100, you can buy some "FDA Approved" (quotations for sarcasm, everyone!) gel that you brush on your eyelashes to make them grow longer. The world is moving beyond mascara. The bothersome part about this is not only the side effects (may darken eyelids, cause red, itchy eyes), but that a drug that was probably created to help patients going through chemotherapy is now another cosmetic, superficial way to mess with your face.
And the spokesperson is Claire Danes! My So Called Life would not approve.
Can't we just be content with our eyelashes? Honestly, just putting on mascara everyday is already pretty toxic. (Regular makeup is loaded with lead and tons of unapproved chemicals). But if you are an ordinary person who hasn't lost eyelashes to disease... what's so wrong with looking like... well, everyone else on the planet?
Yuck, yuck, yuck. These new drugs are always introduced with a huge FDA APPROVAL stamped below the cleverly marketed name. That buys me no assurance. The same thing was said for antidepressants that had horrible side effects for teenagers, for Gardasil, for high blood pressure meds, etc. The approval lasts for a few months before enough people get sick or die for the drug to be thoroughly reviewed or taken off of the market entirely.
I guess this post reveals my distrust in the pharmaceutical world. We are so foolish to believe that just because a doctor writes us a prescription, that our medicine is always safe. Often times it is - and when you are facing an illness, a lot of medicine has been tried and true and can save your life. I would try an experimental drug for cancer... but for my eyelashes? No way. Especially if Claire Danes is involved.
Saturday, August 7, 2010
Friday, August 6, 2010
I laughed, and Elliot was born...
It's true: I kind of laughed Elliot out of the womb.
For anyone that's had a difficult time in labor or an otherwise bad experience in the hospital, please know that I've been there. My labor with Jackson was one of the most exhausting, painful, terrible experiences I've had. There wasn't any time for medication and he was born all natural!
This time, my third experience with labor, a mixture of good luck and the epidural made giving birth to Elliot (almost) easy.
Last Thursday morning, I woke up around 5 am when my water broke. It wasn't dramatic at all, and I wasn't feeling any contractions. This is the exact same thing that happened with Ayla - I waited nearly twelve hours before going to the hospital with her because I was feeling great and pain-free. So, at 5 am when I knew that Elliot was on his way, I went back to sleep for a few more hours. Babies or not - if I can avoid getting up that early, I'm going to do just that.
I finally woke Gregory up around 10 am to tell him it was "go time." Ayla and Jackson were both waking up just like any other ordinary day. We called Gregory's family - which was perfect timing - Rachel, Raul and Noella had just arrived the night before. They came down to our house to get our kids, and after packing up all of our sleepover bags, we were off to the hospital.
Now, Gregory is going to be mad that I'm sharing this - but we made a few stops before getting to the hospital. What can I say? I felt absolutely great because my contractions hadn't kicked in yet and we were a lot less nervous about having our third baby than we had been with the other two. Gregory got his breakfast and we picked up some stuff at the drug store. Obviously, we had time to kill. :)
Checking into the hospital was easy - we walked ourselves up to the maternity ward after going through the emergency room entrance. (Like I said, things have not always been this peaceful. With Jackson, my water broke full force in the emergency room and I threw up all over the place.) The nurses took us into the delivery room and confirmed that, in fact, my water was broken.
Pitocin got my contractions consistent and I finally started to feel them. I had been unsure what I was going to do about the epidural up to this point. On one hand, I had felt groggy with medication during Ayla's birth but alternately had felt amazingly good right after giving birth to Jackson all natural, as hellish as that experience was. But once I started to feel the contractions again (imagine a charlie horse in your stomach), I knew I wanted the epidural.
Honestly, getting the epidural was the worst part of the experience. I had three huge contractions while I had to sit completely still and listen to the doctor explain to his intern where and how far the needle was being pushed into my spine. But once the narcotics kicked in, I could just wait it out until Elliot was ready.
(Stop reading now if you're grossed out by birth stories, it's only going to get more detailed.)
Often times, the effect of the epidural helps a woman to relax and makes the labor work faster. I went from 2 cm dilated to 7 cm and finally 10 cm - all in the course of two hours. At one point, the nurse checked and said, "Hello, baby!" because Elliot had moved so far down.
My doctor came in the room (they don't often sit and wait for the "pushing phase" to start, the nurses call them at the last minute) and I got ready to push. I was all geared up for the hard work that I had had to do in the past. But seriously, I pushed for five minutes max. I pushed once, was told to stop, and then the doctor told us a joke. I laughed.... and next thing you know, I have a baby boy looking at me! Gregory had missed it because he had turned around to get the camera ready.
Easiest birth EVER. I sat there, holding a baby that looked just as surprised as I did. We hadn't found out whether we were having a boy or girl... so we spent the next fifteen minutes stressing out about a boy's name.
If there's a name that means easy entrance to the world or most laid-back baby, I didn't know it - so we chose Elliot because it fits him well!
For anyone that's had a difficult time in labor or an otherwise bad experience in the hospital, please know that I've been there. My labor with Jackson was one of the most exhausting, painful, terrible experiences I've had. There wasn't any time for medication and he was born all natural!
This time, my third experience with labor, a mixture of good luck and the epidural made giving birth to Elliot (almost) easy.
Last Thursday morning, I woke up around 5 am when my water broke. It wasn't dramatic at all, and I wasn't feeling any contractions. This is the exact same thing that happened with Ayla - I waited nearly twelve hours before going to the hospital with her because I was feeling great and pain-free. So, at 5 am when I knew that Elliot was on his way, I went back to sleep for a few more hours. Babies or not - if I can avoid getting up that early, I'm going to do just that.
I finally woke Gregory up around 10 am to tell him it was "go time." Ayla and Jackson were both waking up just like any other ordinary day. We called Gregory's family - which was perfect timing - Rachel, Raul and Noella had just arrived the night before. They came down to our house to get our kids, and after packing up all of our sleepover bags, we were off to the hospital.
Now, Gregory is going to be mad that I'm sharing this - but we made a few stops before getting to the hospital. What can I say? I felt absolutely great because my contractions hadn't kicked in yet and we were a lot less nervous about having our third baby than we had been with the other two. Gregory got his breakfast and we picked up some stuff at the drug store. Obviously, we had time to kill. :)
Checking into the hospital was easy - we walked ourselves up to the maternity ward after going through the emergency room entrance. (Like I said, things have not always been this peaceful. With Jackson, my water broke full force in the emergency room and I threw up all over the place.) The nurses took us into the delivery room and confirmed that, in fact, my water was broken.
Pitocin got my contractions consistent and I finally started to feel them. I had been unsure what I was going to do about the epidural up to this point. On one hand, I had felt groggy with medication during Ayla's birth but alternately had felt amazingly good right after giving birth to Jackson all natural, as hellish as that experience was. But once I started to feel the contractions again (imagine a charlie horse in your stomach), I knew I wanted the epidural.
Honestly, getting the epidural was the worst part of the experience. I had three huge contractions while I had to sit completely still and listen to the doctor explain to his intern where and how far the needle was being pushed into my spine. But once the narcotics kicked in, I could just wait it out until Elliot was ready.
(Stop reading now if you're grossed out by birth stories, it's only going to get more detailed.)
Often times, the effect of the epidural helps a woman to relax and makes the labor work faster. I went from 2 cm dilated to 7 cm and finally 10 cm - all in the course of two hours. At one point, the nurse checked and said, "Hello, baby!" because Elliot had moved so far down.
My doctor came in the room (they don't often sit and wait for the "pushing phase" to start, the nurses call them at the last minute) and I got ready to push. I was all geared up for the hard work that I had had to do in the past. But seriously, I pushed for five minutes max. I pushed once, was told to stop, and then the doctor told us a joke. I laughed.... and next thing you know, I have a baby boy looking at me! Gregory had missed it because he had turned around to get the camera ready.
Easiest birth EVER. I sat there, holding a baby that looked just as surprised as I did. We hadn't found out whether we were having a boy or girl... so we spent the next fifteen minutes stressing out about a boy's name.
If there's a name that means easy entrance to the world or most laid-back baby, I didn't know it - so we chose Elliot because it fits him well!
Wednesday, August 4, 2010
Introducing Elliot Stanton Abell!
Here's the short version for those who are squeamish or not interested in the full birth story. I'll be posting more details later.
Born on July 29, 2010 (fifteen days ahead of schedule) at 3:08 pm
Elliot Stanton Abell
Born on July 29, 2010 (fifteen days ahead of schedule) at 3:08 pm
7 pounds, 4 ounces and 20 1/2 inches long
He's happy, healthy and very, very cuddly.
Wednesday, July 28, 2010
R.I.P. Zucchini
I read a book this summer called Farm City: The Education of an Urban Farmer by Novella Carpenter. I was completely inspired by this self-proclaimed crazy person who used a vacant lot in Oakland, CA to start a community garden. It wasn't limited to fruit trees and vegetables, but also an apiary (bees), turkeys, rabbits, ducks, geese and pigs. Her dedication to following through with every difficult task was amazing. She battled slugs and mustered up the courage to kill and skin her own bunnies for food. I found myself devastated every time a plant didn't thrive or when some jerk would come into her garden and steal her prized heirloom vegetables.
Needless to say, one of my goals in life is to become an urban farmer. I may not be able to go as far to slaughter my own animals - but I could keep a beehive or tend to a flock of chickens in the yard.
But it's trickier than one would think. And I don't know if I'm mature enough yet to handle the responsibility. Animals constantly try to escape (the author eventually gave up on her turkeys and they roamed the ghetto freely). I can't quite deal with our dog and his escapades. Gardens need specific spacing and soil PH levels to succeed. That's another weak point for me. And bugs always attack.
This year, a very specific moth has killed the zucchini plant AND my chances at making unlimited amounts of zucchini fritters for the rest of the summer. Sure, I can go to the farmer's market... but it just isn't as satisfying and honestly doesn't taste the same. The annoying bug is called the squash vine borer. It lays eggs on the bottom of the leaves and then I believe works its way down the stem of the plant and kills the root. I didn't know the warning signs and found out too late. I ripped up the saddest looking part of the roots and saw some really gross white, grubby bugs. Thanks a lot for eating my zucchini!
I did some research from other people's gardening blogs and they were proactive enough to start zucchini seedlings from their original plants after the month of June - which is apparently when this bug attacks.
Live, garden and learn, right? I will after I make my last batch of truly homemade and homegrown zucchini fritters.
Needless to say, one of my goals in life is to become an urban farmer. I may not be able to go as far to slaughter my own animals - but I could keep a beehive or tend to a flock of chickens in the yard.
But it's trickier than one would think. And I don't know if I'm mature enough yet to handle the responsibility. Animals constantly try to escape (the author eventually gave up on her turkeys and they roamed the ghetto freely). I can't quite deal with our dog and his escapades. Gardens need specific spacing and soil PH levels to succeed. That's another weak point for me. And bugs always attack.
This year, a very specific moth has killed the zucchini plant AND my chances at making unlimited amounts of zucchini fritters for the rest of the summer. Sure, I can go to the farmer's market... but it just isn't as satisfying and honestly doesn't taste the same. The annoying bug is called the squash vine borer. It lays eggs on the bottom of the leaves and then I believe works its way down the stem of the plant and kills the root. I didn't know the warning signs and found out too late. I ripped up the saddest looking part of the roots and saw some really gross white, grubby bugs. Thanks a lot for eating my zucchini!
I did some research from other people's gardening blogs and they were proactive enough to start zucchini seedlings from their original plants after the month of June - which is apparently when this bug attacks.
Live, garden and learn, right? I will after I make my last batch of truly homemade and homegrown zucchini fritters.
Sunday, July 25, 2010
Minivan Madness
This post is long overdue. I must discuss our "new" minivan.
We bought the 2007 Honda Odyssey this past March after my final debacle with the cursed Dodge Neon. The troubles I've had with the Neon date back to before Ayla was born, but like any sucker, I kept having to fix whatever ailment it decided to have because I was stuck in a car loan. But I worked like a maniac to pay that loan off early and trade in its' sorry ass to the Honda dealership. (And if it remains a lemon, I have no guilt in taking the maximum trade-in value because they are the ones that sold it to me in the first place.)
The minivan has changed my life. There wasn't ever a moment of mid-life crisis... I never had an awesome sports car pre-children - so I didn't really care about leaving behind my days of carefree, sexy driving. Having a minivan that starts every time I want to go somewhere, not leaving me stranded in a parking lot with two kids, is pretty sexy on it's own.
Obviously we needed to upgrade because a family of five needs more room. Regardless of my loser Neon, we had to obtain some third-row seating. The first amazing thing is that I can strap the kids into their car seats while standing inside the car. This may not seem revolutionary, but the space is very helpful when it is (1) pouring rain or (2) when someone is having a massive, squirming temper tantrum about getting into said car seat.
The second amazing change has been our roadtrip potential. We used to squeeze everything into Gregory's Hyundai Elantra (which dear Hyundai, you never failed us) and hope that I could get my butt in between the kids in the back seat to manage snacks, books, throw-up and 12-hour restlessness. Now we can use the spacious "trunk" AND have additional passengers! If all of this sounds pathetic and sad, you have to understand where I was coming from. A CD player, automatic windows, dual climate control and back-up sensors were NOT features on the Neon.
The third amazing feat is that the Honda minivan has seemed to cure Ayla's motion sickness. She routinely threw up on every long trip we took... and voila! we just drove to and from Holden Beach without incident.
In honor of our upgrade (and second most valuable possession after our house), I compiled a playlist for my Ipod. Not a cassette mix-tape like I used in the Neon, but a real grown-up Ipod playlist. Check it out:
1. Selected songs from Yo! Gabba Gabba. It puts Jackson (and the rest of us) in an instant good mood.
2. "Get Outta My Dreams, Get Into My Car" - Billy Ocean
3. "Damn it Feels Good to Be a Gangsta" - Ghetto Boyz (think of the scene from Office Space)
4. Theme from An American Tail - it has amazing family sing-along powers.
5. "Human Nature" - Michael Jackson. It is my all-time favorite driving song.
6. "I Need A Dollar" - Aloe Blacc. Bigger car = bigger payments.
7. "My Baby's Got Sauce" - G-Love & the Special Sauce. Bringin' back the good stuff. It's what I would have listened to if I drove a minivan in junior high.
8. "That's Not My Name" - The Ting Tings. Ayla's choice.
9. "The Sign" - Ace of Base. Most people know how much fun I had blaring this in my first car. The sentiment hasn't changed much since then.
We bought the 2007 Honda Odyssey this past March after my final debacle with the cursed Dodge Neon. The troubles I've had with the Neon date back to before Ayla was born, but like any sucker, I kept having to fix whatever ailment it decided to have because I was stuck in a car loan. But I worked like a maniac to pay that loan off early and trade in its' sorry ass to the Honda dealership. (And if it remains a lemon, I have no guilt in taking the maximum trade-in value because they are the ones that sold it to me in the first place.)
The minivan has changed my life. There wasn't ever a moment of mid-life crisis... I never had an awesome sports car pre-children - so I didn't really care about leaving behind my days of carefree, sexy driving. Having a minivan that starts every time I want to go somewhere, not leaving me stranded in a parking lot with two kids, is pretty sexy on it's own.
Obviously we needed to upgrade because a family of five needs more room. Regardless of my loser Neon, we had to obtain some third-row seating. The first amazing thing is that I can strap the kids into their car seats while standing inside the car. This may not seem revolutionary, but the space is very helpful when it is (1) pouring rain or (2) when someone is having a massive, squirming temper tantrum about getting into said car seat.
The second amazing change has been our roadtrip potential. We used to squeeze everything into Gregory's Hyundai Elantra (which dear Hyundai, you never failed us) and hope that I could get my butt in between the kids in the back seat to manage snacks, books, throw-up and 12-hour restlessness. Now we can use the spacious "trunk" AND have additional passengers! If all of this sounds pathetic and sad, you have to understand where I was coming from. A CD player, automatic windows, dual climate control and back-up sensors were NOT features on the Neon.
The third amazing feat is that the Honda minivan has seemed to cure Ayla's motion sickness. She routinely threw up on every long trip we took... and voila! we just drove to and from Holden Beach without incident.
In honor of our upgrade (and second most valuable possession after our house), I compiled a playlist for my Ipod. Not a cassette mix-tape like I used in the Neon, but a real grown-up Ipod playlist. Check it out:
1. Selected songs from Yo! Gabba Gabba. It puts Jackson (and the rest of us) in an instant good mood.
2. "Get Outta My Dreams, Get Into My Car" - Billy Ocean
3. "Damn it Feels Good to Be a Gangsta" - Ghetto Boyz (think of the scene from Office Space)
4. Theme from An American Tail - it has amazing family sing-along powers.
5. "Human Nature" - Michael Jackson. It is my all-time favorite driving song.
6. "I Need A Dollar" - Aloe Blacc. Bigger car = bigger payments.
7. "My Baby's Got Sauce" - G-Love & the Special Sauce. Bringin' back the good stuff. It's what I would have listened to if I drove a minivan in junior high.
8. "That's Not My Name" - The Ting Tings. Ayla's choice.
9. "The Sign" - Ace of Base. Most people know how much fun I had blaring this in my first car. The sentiment hasn't changed much since then.
Friday, July 23, 2010
"Violet, you're turning violet, Violet!"
One by one, I am forcing my kids to get into the movies I watched growing up. I've already succeeded with The Dark Crystal, Annie and the ending of The Muppets Take Manhattan ("Somebody's getting married!").
The current project is Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory.
Arguably, one of the best movies EVER. Creepy, yes, but that's the point. Watching it as an adult, you can pick up on all of the dark nuances and sarcastic humor of Gene Wilder.
Some parents might say that their kids watch whatever they put on tv... because they're in charge. However, sometimes the amount of whining and "I want to watch Scooby DOO!" is too much to ignore. Willy Wonka has been one of those movies I always offer... and like Muppet Christmas Carol... they always used to turn it down.
But, we seem to have turned a corner into cinematic history. They love the songs and Ayla is completely intrigued with the storyline. She came running down the stairs to tell Gregory, "There's a girl who ate a piece of gum. It tasted like potatoes and gravy and then she TURNED INTO A BLUEBERRY!" My heart just fluttered with joy.
We had quite the discussion about why the kids in Willy Wonka kept getting into trouble: they didn't listen to Mr. Wonka. Augustus couldn't keep his hands out of the chocolate waterfall; Violet turned violet because she stuffed the gum in her face; Mike T.V. wouldn't stay out of the Wonkavision machine.
I have no shame - I am going to use all of these examples when Ayla won't listen to me. If she has the fear of turning into a blueberry because I tell her she can't have popsicles before dinner, then so be it.
Wednesday, July 21, 2010
Somewhere a kitten is cursing my name
Today was a first for me. We turned away a cute, cuddly black and white kitten. She tried all of her tricks... "mewing" in that pathetic, high pitched tone; curling up into a little ball in our flowerbed; befriending our other cat Pockles and looking forlorn without her mother.
My neighbor pointed her out to me early this morning when I returned from my doctor's appointment (all is well there, by the way! Baby on August 13th or sooner...). Our wild cat Pockles, who can't be contained for long inside the house, had made a new friend. An impossibly small kitten was roaming between either the flowerbed or under our front porch.
We have no clue where it came from. There used to be a stray black cat that lived in our other neighbors garage - but she hadn't made any appearances this summer. Regardless, here we are with another cute stray kitten on Broad Street. My neighbor and her son put out food and water for the cat, but since she had taken residence under our porch AND befriended our cat (fleas and all!) - we had to do something about it.
Looking at my current situation, (1) very pregnant, (2) daily chasing two crazy kids, (3) occasionally chasing an overeager Beagle who escapes down the street and (3) three cats deep into the litter box already... this poor little kitten had to go.
So I became the kind of person who drops a flea-ridden baby cat at the Humane Society. Thankfully, they take any and every animal (instead of being super selective like Animal Friends). But it's still gut-wrenching to bring any animal into the "surrender" room and know that they might sit in a cage for months or be found to have some untreatable feline disease. I filled out the paperwork, signing that I wasn't really the owner and just trying to find an easy way out of cat ownership and guiltily handed over $20 as a donation.
Ayla had a difficult time coming to terms with the recently found new "pet" going to stay with the animal doctors. She literally threw herself in despair, saying that "I don't like three cats, I want FIVE!" .But once we explained that the little girl kitty had fleas from living outside and needed a special doctor... she was content to say goodbye and good luck to our dirty little friend.
Even if that cat is cursing us for turning her away, I'm not quite sure we shouldn't be cursing her. We may not have caught this new friendship in time... and Pockles could have brought fleas into our realm. I'm sure Pockles couldn't resist cuddling with his new buddy. But what's summer without wrestling all of your animals into a flea bath with protective gear on your face?
My neighbor pointed her out to me early this morning when I returned from my doctor's appointment (all is well there, by the way! Baby on August 13th or sooner...). Our wild cat Pockles, who can't be contained for long inside the house, had made a new friend. An impossibly small kitten was roaming between either the flowerbed or under our front porch.
We have no clue where it came from. There used to be a stray black cat that lived in our other neighbors garage - but she hadn't made any appearances this summer. Regardless, here we are with another cute stray kitten on Broad Street. My neighbor and her son put out food and water for the cat, but since she had taken residence under our porch AND befriended our cat (fleas and all!) - we had to do something about it.
Looking at my current situation, (1) very pregnant, (2) daily chasing two crazy kids, (3) occasionally chasing an overeager Beagle who escapes down the street and (3) three cats deep into the litter box already... this poor little kitten had to go.
So I became the kind of person who drops a flea-ridden baby cat at the Humane Society. Thankfully, they take any and every animal (instead of being super selective like Animal Friends). But it's still gut-wrenching to bring any animal into the "surrender" room and know that they might sit in a cage for months or be found to have some untreatable feline disease. I filled out the paperwork, signing that I wasn't really the owner and just trying to find an easy way out of cat ownership and guiltily handed over $20 as a donation.
Ayla had a difficult time coming to terms with the recently found new "pet" going to stay with the animal doctors. She literally threw herself in despair, saying that "I don't like three cats, I want FIVE!" .But once we explained that the little girl kitty had fleas from living outside and needed a special doctor... she was content to say goodbye and good luck to our dirty little friend.
Even if that cat is cursing us for turning her away, I'm not quite sure we shouldn't be cursing her. We may not have caught this new friendship in time... and Pockles could have brought fleas into our realm. I'm sure Pockles couldn't resist cuddling with his new buddy. But what's summer without wrestling all of your animals into a flea bath with protective gear on your face?
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)