One night this weekend, an hour or so after I fell asleep, I awoke to a most unpleasant sensation in my throat. If you're queasy, consider not reading any further.
It felt as if acid from my stomach was creeping up my throat and trying to make its way into my mouth. Yuck.
I tried to ignore it and went back to sleep, but I awoke 30 minutes later to the same sensation, this time worse. It was unpleasant enough that I did not want to continue lying down and dealing with it.
I got up and rinsed my mouth with mouthwash to try to get rid of the taste in my mouth. I cannot gargle; whenever I try, I always end up choking and swallowing most of the liquid. Oh, how I wished I could gargle!
Luckily, the swishing of the mouthwash was adequate for erasing most of the unpleasant taste.
I knew that I could not return to bed, though. Lying down clearly worsened the situation.
Not wanting to wake B up, I meandered upstairs to the loft and curled up on the couch, using pillows to prop myself into a sitting position, and fell asleep. Several hours later, I awoke feeling less acidic and decided to give sleeping in a bed a try. Sleeping on a couch is uncomfortable, at best; sleeping while hunched over a pillow on a couch is an experience to be missed.
I was wary about returning to a supine position, though. I grabbed a couple pillows and tucked them under the top half of my snoogle, hoping that even a slight elevation would be helpful. The elevation and likely the passage of time helped, and I slept the rest of the night in relative comfort. (Exhaustion helped.)
The next morning, I was recovered, but I suspected that something had taken a turn for the worse and that pregnancy was to blame. I remember telling my doctor last spring that I didn't get heartburn, and (knowing that I was planning to get pregnant later that year) she said, "Just wait till you get pregnant!" Alas, Dr. H, you were correct. I suspect that I now suffer from it.
The culprit that evening was likely the pineapple juice that I gulped down just an hour or so before bed. Pineapple juice, I hope I have not ruined you forever and that I'll still be able to drink you after this phase passes.
The next morning, feeling like tempting fate, I had a couple glasses of orange juice and suffered milder effects, probably because I was not lying down. Later that day, a can of ginger ale taught me that perhaps it's time to remove soda from my list of drinkable beverages.
I countered the effects of the OJ and ginger ale with Tums, which, despite their chalk-like consistency, are quite delicious and satisfying to eat. Thank goodness, too, since I suspect I'll be eating quite a few of them in the upcoming months.
I now keep a bottle of Tums on my bedside table, just in case, and we have another bottle that floats around the house, ready to be grabbed at a moment's notice. I should probably also pack a bag of the little treats for work.
Heartburn is the pits.
Monday, February 28, 2011
Friday, February 25, 2011
The nesting instinct
I can officially confirm that I have succumbed to the nesting instinct.
My nesting tendencies came on so gradually that I didn't distinguish them from my usual tidiness, at least in the beginning. However, my activities in the last couple of months are not normal, even for me.
Each weekend, I tackle a new area of our house, from the hidden to the in-plain-sight, and I create piles: Keep piles, Trash/Recycling piles, and Give Away piles.
Many of the items that end up in the Give Away pile are sellable, but selling an item on craigslist is time consuming. The goal of these purging exercises is to rid our home of unnecessary items as quickly as possible.
My first project was the walk-in closet in our spare bedroom, soon to be our nursery. The closet is about six-feet square, with shelving that previously held lots of our stuff. I knew that we'd need the space for baby gear, so I accepted early on that not all the treasures would be able to stay.
In general, I'm not an overly sentimental person with regard to possessions, so I was able to identify many bags full of items that I could live without. B tackled a pile that I created for him and was able to say good-bye to many of the items, as well. If we were unable to part with an item but knew that we would rarely need to use it, we packed it up and put it aside for safekeeping it in the attic above our loft or storage space in the wall behind our loft.
Speaking of the loft, it was my next project. Probably most houses have a room where stuff seems to accumulate in corners and crevices, and for us, that room is the loft. This project was particularly satisfying because I got to review over a year's worth of paper that was set aside for filing, and we didn't need to keep most of it. That's right, I got to shred, an enjoyable activity when one is nesting.
I also packed up a ton of stuff to be moved into storage, so much that we had to go buy more storage totes. When I ambushed B after work one day with the task of putting the stuff away--not as easy as it sounds, as our storage areas are difficult to access, are unfinished and unheated, and are generally unpleasant and dusty places to be--he reluctantly got out the ladder to investigate, only to declare that we didn't have enough space for all of the new storage totes.
Yes, that's right, it was another purging opportunity! He brought out everything that we had stored away, and we realized that we didn't need most of the stuff. The plastic tote full of cables that we thought we might someday use was particularly satisfying to say good-bye to.
Our next project was the kitchen. One of the reasons we bought our condo was the surprisingly large amount of storage space in the kitchen. We have a large walk-in pantry with great Ikea shelving, a bottom-level double cabinet with lots of open space, and a corner cabinet with a narrow opening and space that goes waaaaay back.
Having a lot of storage is only helpful if you use it wisely, and we weren't. The volume of stuff we had and its lack of organization made finding frequently used items more difficult than necessary. It was time to purge.
It's not easy getting rid of kitchen equipment. You are bound to ask yourself, "What if I want this some day..." about so many items. However, facing reality and one's own limitations is helpful in the purging process. Once upon a time, I thought that having a collection of cookie cutters was part of being female. However, the reality is that I really dislike rolling out and touching dough of any kind, so becoming a mother is not likely to transform me into one of those women who bakes cookies cut from cookie cutters. And you know what? I am happier now that I have acknowledged that fact and moved on.
The kitchen reorg was a multi-day effort that involved taking everything out of its storage space, either cabinet or pantry, deciding whether to keep it, and figuring out the best place for it to live. We had to reconfigure some of the shelves in the pantry, an activity that was fun for only one of us (I suspect you can guess who).
For the keep-it-or-dump-it triage, I found that giving ourselves a few days to think about an item was helpful. We ended up finding space for quite a few items that I thought I could live without, even if we rarely or never use them. Sometimes just-in-case is a legitimate reason to keep an item.
The end result of our reorg was a pantry that we once again love. And we love it even more than we did after the first reorg before because we no longer need to keep the rolling cart that held all the spillover items. We had to remove the cart every time we wanted to access any item on the lower shelves (such a pain). Now we have no idea what to do with the cart, but we're thinking that it will likely be useful in the closet in the nursery (which is currently in disarray due to the ongoing painting project in that room, to be completed this weekend, we hope).
I've learned a few lessons from all these exercises.
My nesting tendencies came on so gradually that I didn't distinguish them from my usual tidiness, at least in the beginning. However, my activities in the last couple of months are not normal, even for me.
Each weekend, I tackle a new area of our house, from the hidden to the in-plain-sight, and I create piles: Keep piles, Trash/Recycling piles, and Give Away piles.
Many of the items that end up in the Give Away pile are sellable, but selling an item on craigslist is time consuming. The goal of these purging exercises is to rid our home of unnecessary items as quickly as possible.
My first project was the walk-in closet in our spare bedroom, soon to be our nursery. The closet is about six-feet square, with shelving that previously held lots of our stuff. I knew that we'd need the space for baby gear, so I accepted early on that not all the treasures would be able to stay.
In general, I'm not an overly sentimental person with regard to possessions, so I was able to identify many bags full of items that I could live without. B tackled a pile that I created for him and was able to say good-bye to many of the items, as well. If we were unable to part with an item but knew that we would rarely need to use it, we packed it up and put it aside for safekeeping it in the attic above our loft or storage space in the wall behind our loft.
Speaking of the loft, it was my next project. Probably most houses have a room where stuff seems to accumulate in corners and crevices, and for us, that room is the loft. This project was particularly satisfying because I got to review over a year's worth of paper that was set aside for filing, and we didn't need to keep most of it. That's right, I got to shred, an enjoyable activity when one is nesting.
I also packed up a ton of stuff to be moved into storage, so much that we had to go buy more storage totes. When I ambushed B after work one day with the task of putting the stuff away--not as easy as it sounds, as our storage areas are difficult to access, are unfinished and unheated, and are generally unpleasant and dusty places to be--he reluctantly got out the ladder to investigate, only to declare that we didn't have enough space for all of the new storage totes.
Yes, that's right, it was another purging opportunity! He brought out everything that we had stored away, and we realized that we didn't need most of the stuff. The plastic tote full of cables that we thought we might someday use was particularly satisfying to say good-bye to.
Our next project was the kitchen. One of the reasons we bought our condo was the surprisingly large amount of storage space in the kitchen. We have a large walk-in pantry with great Ikea shelving, a bottom-level double cabinet with lots of open space, and a corner cabinet with a narrow opening and space that goes waaaaay back.
Having a lot of storage is only helpful if you use it wisely, and we weren't. The volume of stuff we had and its lack of organization made finding frequently used items more difficult than necessary. It was time to purge.
It's not easy getting rid of kitchen equipment. You are bound to ask yourself, "What if I want this some day..." about so many items. However, facing reality and one's own limitations is helpful in the purging process. Once upon a time, I thought that having a collection of cookie cutters was part of being female. However, the reality is that I really dislike rolling out and touching dough of any kind, so becoming a mother is not likely to transform me into one of those women who bakes cookies cut from cookie cutters. And you know what? I am happier now that I have acknowledged that fact and moved on.
The kitchen reorg was a multi-day effort that involved taking everything out of its storage space, either cabinet or pantry, deciding whether to keep it, and figuring out the best place for it to live. We had to reconfigure some of the shelves in the pantry, an activity that was fun for only one of us (I suspect you can guess who).
For the keep-it-or-dump-it triage, I found that giving ourselves a few days to think about an item was helpful. We ended up finding space for quite a few items that I thought I could live without, even if we rarely or never use them. Sometimes just-in-case is a legitimate reason to keep an item.
The end result of our reorg was a pantry that we once again love. And we love it even more than we did after the first reorg before because we no longer need to keep the rolling cart that held all the spillover items. We had to remove the cart every time we wanted to access any item on the lower shelves (such a pain). Now we have no idea what to do with the cart, but we're thinking that it will likely be useful in the closet in the nursery (which is currently in disarray due to the ongoing painting project in that room, to be completed this weekend, we hope).
I've learned a few lessons from all these exercises.
- Just because items can be organized doesn't mean that they should be organized. An organized collection of stuff you don't need is just as unhelpful as an unorganized collection of stuff you don't need.
- My impulse purchases usually eventually get donated to the Salvation Army.
- If you donate anything made after 1965 to the Salvation Army, you are a rockstar.
- The nesting instinct is merciless. Before getting rid of an item that you're on the fence about, run the idea by someone else to make sure you won't regret it later.
- Getting rid of a lot of stuff is a messy, cluttered process. The bags sit in your living room for days until you're able to make a Salvy drop. Accept that your house will be in a state of chaos until all the purging and organization is complete. The clutter has to get worse before it can get better.
- When in doubt, pack an item away for a year or two and then revisit. If you haven't thought about it the entire time, you probably don't need it.
Thursday, February 17, 2011
Super taster, super feeler, super duper
I am a super taster. Biologically speaking, I have more taste buds on my tongue per square inch than most people. Practically speaking, I taste foods more intensely than others, or so I am given to understand. An article I read once say that it's a neon-taste world for us super-tasters, and I suppose it must be true, though I can't say for sure, since I don't know what it's like to be a normal taster.
Some parts of ourselves, such as our five senses and our emotional states, establish themselves and then don't change much. What annoys you or makes you happy one day typically annoys you or makes you happy the next day. Once you've established a norm for yourself for how you react to situations, you frequently keep to that norm.
But not, as I am learning, when you're pregnant. Under normal circumstances (that is, when I'm not pregnant), I would not consider myself an overly emotional person. I feel emotions, frequently strongly, but the rational part of me is still almost always in control.
Pregnancy land, however, is a super feeling world. I no longer get a little happy; I dance around the room while singing. I don't get a little upset; I swear and stomp. Rarely am I a little annoyed; my facial expression and body language scream that I have no patience for fools.
I feel emotions much more intensely than before, but the situation is even more extreme because my rational mind is no longer in control. I can't hold myself back from dancing and swearing and withdrawing physically. Not only that, but my verbal inhibitions are significantly lower than before. I freely speak my mind, voicing complaints that I would otherwise stifle and expressing opinions that I might otherwise phrase much more carefully.
I feel like I'm getting to know a whole new me, a me that I never thought I would be, but one that has offered an intriguing perspective. As it turns out, speaking your mind does not result in catastrophe. In fact, contronting a difficult situation and saying how you feel about it is unexpectedly cathartic. Confrontation gives you the opportunity to acknowledge a problem, and if the situation goes well, you feel better afterwards and can begin anew.
I have about 12 weeks left of my pregnancy, so everyone around me can expect to interact with an increasingly honest, moody, and temperamental individual for the duration. I am on the verge of losing my previously very cute innie belly button; as soon as it pops out into an outie, all bets are off, and I make no guarantees that I will exhibit any rational behavior from here on out.
Some parts of ourselves, such as our five senses and our emotional states, establish themselves and then don't change much. What annoys you or makes you happy one day typically annoys you or makes you happy the next day. Once you've established a norm for yourself for how you react to situations, you frequently keep to that norm.
But not, as I am learning, when you're pregnant. Under normal circumstances (that is, when I'm not pregnant), I would not consider myself an overly emotional person. I feel emotions, frequently strongly, but the rational part of me is still almost always in control.
Pregnancy land, however, is a super feeling world. I no longer get a little happy; I dance around the room while singing. I don't get a little upset; I swear and stomp. Rarely am I a little annoyed; my facial expression and body language scream that I have no patience for fools.
I feel emotions much more intensely than before, but the situation is even more extreme because my rational mind is no longer in control. I can't hold myself back from dancing and swearing and withdrawing physically. Not only that, but my verbal inhibitions are significantly lower than before. I freely speak my mind, voicing complaints that I would otherwise stifle and expressing opinions that I might otherwise phrase much more carefully.
I feel like I'm getting to know a whole new me, a me that I never thought I would be, but one that has offered an intriguing perspective. As it turns out, speaking your mind does not result in catastrophe. In fact, contronting a difficult situation and saying how you feel about it is unexpectedly cathartic. Confrontation gives you the opportunity to acknowledge a problem, and if the situation goes well, you feel better afterwards and can begin anew.
I have about 12 weeks left of my pregnancy, so everyone around me can expect to interact with an increasingly honest, moody, and temperamental individual for the duration. I am on the verge of losing my previously very cute innie belly button; as soon as it pops out into an outie, all bets are off, and I make no guarantees that I will exhibit any rational behavior from here on out.
Saturday, February 12, 2011
Not my style: Bargain basement baby gear
Our home is too far from the city to be considered urban (hence the title of B's blog), but the distance doesn't mean that I can't adopt certain yuppie tendencies. One of my newest tendencies is indulging my whims with regard to baby gear.
Baby gear, I'm learning, comes in a range of prices and offers various levels of safety. A few years ago, I might have thought that the bargain basement crib was the way to go. After all, a child sleeps in a crib for only two or three years, so choosing a moderately priced piece of furniture seemed like the best decision.
It was a nice idea. But you know, those bargain basement cribs are not necessarily the safest, the most attractive, or the most versatile for one's needs. However, you'd be amazed at the cribs that are being turned out by some northern European countries; they are safe, beautiful, versatile...and, unfortunately, expensive.
When we were doing early stroller research, I acknowledged to myself that bargain basement simply isn't my style anymore (was it ever?). I asked B if he was ok with spending amounts of money that, on paper, are fairly ridiculous, given how long this gear will be used. He said that I should get what I want, and if the stroller that I want costs more than the value of my car, so be it. Rooster is worth it.
And I agree, Rooster deserves good-quality pieces, of course, and the safety of the items we plan to buy can't be beat, but let's be honest: The person that I am indulging is myself. I have chosen these pieces because they offer conveniences to us. For instance:
Baby gear, I'm learning, comes in a range of prices and offers various levels of safety. A few years ago, I might have thought that the bargain basement crib was the way to go. After all, a child sleeps in a crib for only two or three years, so choosing a moderately priced piece of furniture seemed like the best decision.
It was a nice idea. But you know, those bargain basement cribs are not necessarily the safest, the most attractive, or the most versatile for one's needs. However, you'd be amazed at the cribs that are being turned out by some northern European countries; they are safe, beautiful, versatile...and, unfortunately, expensive.
When we were doing early stroller research, I acknowledged to myself that bargain basement simply isn't my style anymore (was it ever?). I asked B if he was ok with spending amounts of money that, on paper, are fairly ridiculous, given how long this gear will be used. He said that I should get what I want, and if the stroller that I want costs more than the value of my car, so be it. Rooster is worth it.
And I agree, Rooster deserves good-quality pieces, of course, and the safety of the items we plan to buy can't be beat, but let's be honest: The person that I am indulging is myself. I have chosen these pieces because they offer conveniences to us. For instance:
- The crib we ordered converts from a bassinet to a crib, is on wheels, and is narrow enough to fit through doorways. Additionally, the crib is considerably smaller than some of the behemoth cribs that you see in The Store That Shall Not Be Named (you know what I'm talking about...the big box baby store that I avoid like the plague). I saw our crib in a catalogue a few years ago and loved it, and I'm glad that we chose it.
- The stroller we plan to buy features a lightweight but very safe car seat with a comfortable carrying handle. The seat is safely attached to the frame of the stroller but detaches easily, and you can fold the stroller frame into a compact shape using just a flick of your wrist. These great features mean that I could, in theory, carry the seat and stroller frame up or down a flight of stairs all by myself. (I don't know if I have the strength for such a feat, but perhaps I will after a few months of baby lifting.) The car seat is also easier to fit into its car base than others, allowing for less back strain, and that's a big plus.
As I mentioned, the crib is on order, as are the glider and ottoman. They should all arrive in about a month, and that's when we'll buy the stroller/car seat and a few other necessities. I'm trying to buy only what I think we'll need, at least to start, and am holding off on the might-be-nice-to-have items, at least until we have a better idea of what life with Rooster will be like.
Friday, February 11, 2011
Weight, weight...don't tell me
Today, I weigh more than I ever have in my life. This statement will continue to be true for the next few months. It makes me a little uncomfortable.
I've never had problems maintaining a steady weight, but I try not to be one of those women who gleefully declares that she can eat whatever she wants and not gain weight. That statement is partially true but only because what I want to eat is usually healthful food in reasonable portions, and when I do indulge in something that is not so great for me, I do so in moderation. Eating an entire box of Ring Dings makes me feel sick, so I much prefer smaller indulgences.
Self control is a big part of my being able to maintain a steady weight, though the more important part is having a neutral relationship with hunger. Hunger is neither friend nor foe: When I'm hungry, I'm not happy that I'm hungry, but I'm not upset about it, either. It's just the state that I will be in until I eat again, and I don't need to get out of that state immediately.
Pregnancy has required me to readjust me relationship with hunger and food, though. I'm supposed to eat 200-300 extra calories per day. Normally, when I overindulge by a few hundred extra calories, I cut back on what I eat for a day or two. Now, I can't cut back and still have to keep up the extra calories.
So when I find myself with a food craving--and I still haven't had any that are any different from my pre-pregnancy cravings--I usually give in. If I want a burger, we make burgers for dinner. If I want carrot cake, I buy a piece at the grocery store. If I want Ring Dings...well, no, I probably won't be buying a box of Ring Dings. My self control is stronger at the grocery store than at home, and that box would not be long for this world after it entered our home. My self control has its limits, and I've learned that I have to buy all junky food in single servings only.
The occasional single serving of junk food in combination with the other extra calories I've been eating have contributed to what I think is a substantial weight gain. I've gained 12 pounds since my doctor began weighing me in October, but I'm pretty sure I gained a few pounds before the monthly weigh-ins began, so I would estimate that I have gained at least half of the 30 pounds that my doctor told me I should aim to gain. I now top the scales at (gulp) 162 pounds, a number I never thought I would see.
Yes, I weigh 162 pounds, and I wore a size-12 wedding gown. I'm not as skinny as I look!
So what's my strategy going forward? I will continue to eat when I'm hungry, sooner than I used to. I will continue eating bigger portions and snacking more frequently.
And I bought a scale. As soon as the Rooster greets the world and my doctor gives me the ok, I'm figuring out a plan that will get me back to the person that I used to be, and I can't wait.
I've never had problems maintaining a steady weight, but I try not to be one of those women who gleefully declares that she can eat whatever she wants and not gain weight. That statement is partially true but only because what I want to eat is usually healthful food in reasonable portions, and when I do indulge in something that is not so great for me, I do so in moderation. Eating an entire box of Ring Dings makes me feel sick, so I much prefer smaller indulgences.
Self control is a big part of my being able to maintain a steady weight, though the more important part is having a neutral relationship with hunger. Hunger is neither friend nor foe: When I'm hungry, I'm not happy that I'm hungry, but I'm not upset about it, either. It's just the state that I will be in until I eat again, and I don't need to get out of that state immediately.
Pregnancy has required me to readjust me relationship with hunger and food, though. I'm supposed to eat 200-300 extra calories per day. Normally, when I overindulge by a few hundred extra calories, I cut back on what I eat for a day or two. Now, I can't cut back and still have to keep up the extra calories.
So when I find myself with a food craving--and I still haven't had any that are any different from my pre-pregnancy cravings--I usually give in. If I want a burger, we make burgers for dinner. If I want carrot cake, I buy a piece at the grocery store. If I want Ring Dings...well, no, I probably won't be buying a box of Ring Dings. My self control is stronger at the grocery store than at home, and that box would not be long for this world after it entered our home. My self control has its limits, and I've learned that I have to buy all junky food in single servings only.
The occasional single serving of junk food in combination with the other extra calories I've been eating have contributed to what I think is a substantial weight gain. I've gained 12 pounds since my doctor began weighing me in October, but I'm pretty sure I gained a few pounds before the monthly weigh-ins began, so I would estimate that I have gained at least half of the 30 pounds that my doctor told me I should aim to gain. I now top the scales at (gulp) 162 pounds, a number I never thought I would see.
Yes, I weigh 162 pounds, and I wore a size-12 wedding gown. I'm not as skinny as I look!
So what's my strategy going forward? I will continue to eat when I'm hungry, sooner than I used to. I will continue eating bigger portions and snacking more frequently.
And I bought a scale. As soon as the Rooster greets the world and my doctor gives me the ok, I'm figuring out a plan that will get me back to the person that I used to be, and I can't wait.
Tuesday, February 1, 2011
A sartorial lesson relearned
Not all maternity clothes are created equal. I finally broke down and started wearing my maternity clothes (tops in addition to bottoms), and some of them are just awful.
And by "some," I mean just about everything that I bought from Old Navy. For example:
My clothing from the Gap is significantly better than my Old Navy clothing, but the best clothing of all is from A Pea in the Pod. Now, I probably wouldn't have even attempted to shop there (due to the high prices), but I received a wonderful and thoughtful gift card for Christmas, so I jumped in and bought a few pieces from their online store.
And I love them. "Stylish" is perhaps going too far, but they are stylish enough, considering the physical limitations with which I am working. They are much more fitted than the Old Navy pieces, and the fitted look is perfect while my bump is still in the cute phase. I'm not sure how they will look when I move from the cute phase to the big-as-a-mountain phase, but I have confidence that they are designed to grow with me.
I was initially put off by the Pod's high prices, but I shopped only the sale items, and the prices were comparable to Gap sale prices. I liked my pieces so much that I returned for a second order. I got free shipping on both orders, and they were offering a 10% off promotion for my second order, so I saved even more.
I don't know how many times I have to learn this lesson before it will stick, but I have learned it once again: Buy only clothing that you love, even if you're going to be able to wear it for only 4 months.
And by "some," I mean just about everything that I bought from Old Navy. For example:
- The maternity jeans don't stay up. Perhaps I should give them another try now that I am a bit bigger in the belly area, but it's difficult to work up motivation to wear uncomfortable clothing.
- I'm having trouble imagining a world in which I would be tempted to wear the black trousers. Perhaps they would be appropriate in a world without standards and expectations.
- The maternity tops make me feel like I'm wearing something that is 6 sizes too big. Perhaps I will appreciate this roominess in a couple/few months, but for now, I just feel frumpy.
- The tags on the tops could also be used as torture devices. Ladies, break out your stitch ripper or a pair of scissors with sharp points because those tags have to come out.
My clothing from the Gap is significantly better than my Old Navy clothing, but the best clothing of all is from A Pea in the Pod. Now, I probably wouldn't have even attempted to shop there (due to the high prices), but I received a wonderful and thoughtful gift card for Christmas, so I jumped in and bought a few pieces from their online store.
And I love them. "Stylish" is perhaps going too far, but they are stylish enough, considering the physical limitations with which I am working. They are much more fitted than the Old Navy pieces, and the fitted look is perfect while my bump is still in the cute phase. I'm not sure how they will look when I move from the cute phase to the big-as-a-mountain phase, but I have confidence that they are designed to grow with me.
I was initially put off by the Pod's high prices, but I shopped only the sale items, and the prices were comparable to Gap sale prices. I liked my pieces so much that I returned for a second order. I got free shipping on both orders, and they were offering a 10% off promotion for my second order, so I saved even more.
I don't know how many times I have to learn this lesson before it will stick, but I have learned it once again: Buy only clothing that you love, even if you're going to be able to wear it for only 4 months.
Road warriors, I bow to you
A couple weeks ago, I developed new respect for the road warrior, the business traveler who regularly leaves home and family to conduct business while on the road.
I developed the respect, as one would expect, by walking (albeit briefly) in the footsteps of such a warrior. My two-night business trip, which became a three-night trip due to the blizzard and the cancellation of our train home, taught me a lot about business travel. Here are a few tidbits that I picked up.
1. Always pack extra underwear and socks. I already follow this policy, but this was the first trip I've taken in which I actually had to use my spare clothing. If you need to do sink laundry, wring the item out and then roll it up in a towel or two to remove excess moisture before hanging it above your heater for faster drying.
Tip: Don't hang the item from a sprinkler, no matter how conveniently placed the sprinkler might be. (For the record, I did not do this.)
2. Delays aren't fun. Being delayed while you're on vacation with your family is unpleasant, but it's even more difficult when the delay means that you're separated from your family for even longer. On the plus side, you can be reimbursed for all your expenses, so at least you aren't losing money.
3. Most business travelers are men. Most of the diners in the hotel restaurant and club lounge were of the male persuasion. If there had been any doubt, the selected TV channel in the restaurant--ESPN--was a dead giveaway that there are way more men on the road than women.
4. Dining in restaurants is not always great. I do like eating out, but if I had to choose between only eating out and only dining in for the rest of my life, I would choose to dine in, even if I had to cook every meal. It's much easier to eat your fruits and veggies and to control the ingredients and calories in your meals when you cook them.
Tip: Most restaurants will accommodate off-menu requests, but first, study the menu to make sure that they have all the ingredients that are needed.
5. Business travel is more stressful than personal travel, for me, anyway. Probably others have different opinions. There are perks to business travel; for instance, everything is free, allowing you to have a variety of experiences and build status with hotels and airlines at no cost to you. However, I learned that when I travel, I rely upon B's presence, conversation, insight, ideas, common-mindedness, and ability to carry lots of luggage. Travel is harder and less fun without him.
6. Pregnancy makes travel more challenging. Since I took the train, I didn't have to worry about turbulence and security machines, but I still had to manage my luggage myself. I packed lightly, but you can pack only so lightly and compactly for 3 (as it turned out, 4) days away from home. Plus it can be really hard to get the sleep that you need when much of your schedule is not in your control. Further complicating the situation was our trip to NYC, which immediately followed my work trip. I arrived home Thursday afternoon and we left the next morning, leaving only a couple hours for unpacking, laundry, and repacking. It was a difficult week.
In conclusion: Road warriors, I don't know how you do it week after week, but you have my respect.
I developed the respect, as one would expect, by walking (albeit briefly) in the footsteps of such a warrior. My two-night business trip, which became a three-night trip due to the blizzard and the cancellation of our train home, taught me a lot about business travel. Here are a few tidbits that I picked up.
1. Always pack extra underwear and socks. I already follow this policy, but this was the first trip I've taken in which I actually had to use my spare clothing. If you need to do sink laundry, wring the item out and then roll it up in a towel or two to remove excess moisture before hanging it above your heater for faster drying.
Tip: Don't hang the item from a sprinkler, no matter how conveniently placed the sprinkler might be. (For the record, I did not do this.)
2. Delays aren't fun. Being delayed while you're on vacation with your family is unpleasant, but it's even more difficult when the delay means that you're separated from your family for even longer. On the plus side, you can be reimbursed for all your expenses, so at least you aren't losing money.
3. Most business travelers are men. Most of the diners in the hotel restaurant and club lounge were of the male persuasion. If there had been any doubt, the selected TV channel in the restaurant--ESPN--was a dead giveaway that there are way more men on the road than women.
4. Dining in restaurants is not always great. I do like eating out, but if I had to choose between only eating out and only dining in for the rest of my life, I would choose to dine in, even if I had to cook every meal. It's much easier to eat your fruits and veggies and to control the ingredients and calories in your meals when you cook them.
Tip: Most restaurants will accommodate off-menu requests, but first, study the menu to make sure that they have all the ingredients that are needed.
5. Business travel is more stressful than personal travel, for me, anyway. Probably others have different opinions. There are perks to business travel; for instance, everything is free, allowing you to have a variety of experiences and build status with hotels and airlines at no cost to you. However, I learned that when I travel, I rely upon B's presence, conversation, insight, ideas, common-mindedness, and ability to carry lots of luggage. Travel is harder and less fun without him.
6. Pregnancy makes travel more challenging. Since I took the train, I didn't have to worry about turbulence and security machines, but I still had to manage my luggage myself. I packed lightly, but you can pack only so lightly and compactly for 3 (as it turned out, 4) days away from home. Plus it can be really hard to get the sleep that you need when much of your schedule is not in your control. Further complicating the situation was our trip to NYC, which immediately followed my work trip. I arrived home Thursday afternoon and we left the next morning, leaving only a couple hours for unpacking, laundry, and repacking. It was a difficult week.
In conclusion: Road warriors, I don't know how you do it week after week, but you have my respect.
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