Snug as a Bug in a Rug

Some of my earliest childhood memories involve being in the car and falling asleep. When we’d arrive home, my dad would pick me up and put me in my bed and tuck me in, “snug as a bug in a rug.”

When I got too old to be carried, envious of my younger (smaller) siblings, I’d pretend to be asleep just to keep our little ritual going. To this day, I don’t know if he knew I was pretending from about age seven on … but those are some of my favorite memories. To a child, there is truly nothing like the safety of your parents’ arms.

I was thinking about that tonight when I was rocking Maya to sleep, her little exhausted body rendered limp in my arms. Every parent knows that putting a sleeping baby in a crib can yield one of two results. Continue reading “Snug as a Bug in a Rug”

Fears and Anxieties Rearing Their Ugly Head

No, no, I haven’t gone back into the depths of disordered eating despair and my gym membership is on hold so rest assured I’m not over-exercising (or moving anything except my mouth to eat and legs to walk) … but I am experiencing a resurgence of anxiety that I haven’t felt in a long, long time. The difference is, this time it feels wholly different–I think because I can pin-point exactly what I’m anxious about.

I debated sharing it here on the blog, but this is my outlet and I’d be lying to myself if I didn’t admit it: I’m scared of the C-section; scared of dying on the operating table. Continue reading “Fears and Anxieties Rearing Their Ugly Head”

It’s Not About the Preggo Card …

Though it might not be obvious to anyone but myself, over the past year, I’ve become a lot more forgiving towards myself with respect to food, really embracing the whole “live life and ENJOY it” notion.

This didn’t start when I got pregnant, and probably explains why I never lost the 10-15 lbs I packed on over the past three years pre-pregnancy.

(But truly, that’s neither here nor there, especially as the scale tips closer and closer to my pre-WW weight, a number I hoped never to see again but inevitably will, and then some).

I have to say, it’s very freeing to live this way. I eat what I want, but in moderation. I don’t deprive myself of what I really want; I account for it and move on. I believe in my heart of hearts this is what it means to have a balanced relationship with food, something I’ve strove for on this journey.

And though being pregnant gives me a little extra wiggle room to enjoy life even more, I’ve truly been in this mindset for the past year or so. Maybe it’s just more obvious to the outside world now that I’m pregnant, and instead of sneaking around with a former “guilty” treat or eating it alone, my love affair is more in the public eye. And I’m not ashamed to be seen eating a chocolate bar, or tortilla chips. Life’s more fun with a little sweet, a little salty, a little gusto for food … something that evaded me during the worst years of my disordered eating history.

Which is why it’s been deeply frustrating to me to hear people say (to me or any of my other recently-pregnant friends), “Well, but you can have that, you’re pregnant.”  Or, “You can eat that now”  (basically acknowledging “but I can’t”.) Or “Well now that you’re pregnant, XYZ is OK.” Continue reading “It’s Not About the Preggo Card …”

Facing Fears

fearThanks to the amazing beast that is Google, I just read the leaked script of Buried, the indie flick my “crush” Ryan Reynolds is supposedly filming in Barcelona right now as we speak.

If you’re not familiar with it yet, you will be in 2010 when it’s released — and there’s plenty of buzz about it now.

It’s the one-man film of an American contractor in Iraq whose convoy is ambushed by Iraqi insurgents.

Kidnapped and buried alive, he comes to in a coffin … with only a dying cell phone, a lighter and a knife … oh, and desert sand trickling through a tiny hole in the wooden box.

Reading the 80-page script, I felt nauseous and sick, as though I was in his shoes myself.

I won’t say anything more about the plot, other than that this movie is going to make its audience  squirm — that is, if they can sit through an entire film shot in one very claustraphobic location.

I bring this film up not because I adore Ryan Reynolds (and I do) but because Ryan’s character — Paul — is facing the absolute of fears: certain, imminent death.

He’s literally trapped, and he has no way out … unless by some miracle he gets rescued. Continue reading “Facing Fears”