Poking and prodding

In the last few weeks, I've been feeling Valentine move more and more. According to the pregnancy books, this is because s/he is getting bigger and stronger and therefore has less room to move around and is better capable of delivering solid kicks that extend well outside the cozy cocoon of amniotic fluid and into the wall of my abdomen, where I can feel them.

The feeling is pretty cool and, to be honest, kind of addictive. As a result, I've taken to poking and prodding my bump to encourage Valentine to kick me. Yes, I'm already encouraging parental abuse.

But Internet, don't you see? I do it for the baby. After all, it usually works, meaning that I'm helping Valentine to develop his/her muscles and reflexes. And, just as importantly, feeling Valentine kick me lets me know s/he's still alive in there, which gives me a warm, fuzzy, relaxing feeling. And that's important because without constant reassurance, I tend to freak out and get insanely concerned that Valentine ISN'T okay. And that's stress and it's bad for the baby.

So. Now you know. Poking and prodding... it's all for the baby.

Enforced hairiness

I woke up this morning to my BlackBerry blinking at me that I had new email. This was not a big surprise; every morning when I wake up I have, at the very least, a Groupon deal waiting for me. So anyway, this was the best freaking Groupon deal I've seen in months. 90% off! For a beauty treatment.

The Groupon was for 6 sessions of IPL (intense pulsed light for epilation, in case you're wondering) which, in theory, is basically just light that turns into heat in your follicles and vaporises the hair and follicle so you never have to shave or wax that area again. EVER.

Now for those readers who don't really know me yet, you might assume I'm a regular at my local beauty salon, but seriously, nothing could be further from the truth. I don't even know where the local beauty salon IS. But the chance to permanently de-hair certain particularly prolific areas and NEVER HAVE TO SHAVE OR WAX THEM EVER AGAIN? This is a deal especially written with low-maintenance girls like me in mind.

Anyway, because the treatment was something I'd never done before and because there are like 60 gajillion restrictions when you're pregnant, I figured just to be safe I'd check what the internet had to say. And can you guess what the internet said? Really. You'll never believe it.

That's right. IPL is not recommended during pregnancy. Intense light on your skin - even skin that is almost never displayed where other people might be able to see it, EVEN skin nowhere near the baby - should be avoided during pregnancy. Now, things that could actually injure me, fine. Things that could cause cancer or something in the baby? Obviously. But strong light focused on my skin? Where the light only penetrates to a maximum depth of 4mm? HOW IS THIS BAD? People, the time is fast approaching when I won't even be able to see the lower half of my body in my tiny shower stall. This could have been my salvation! 

And do you know what the reasoning was? Hormones. HORMONES! Because of the hormones (which are so abundant in pregnancy), the experts don't know what might happen. The procedure might not work. It might affect pigmentation. But it might work! It might be fabulous. Because you know what else isn't recommended during pregnancy? Waxing. Because you also might react to the wax. Leaving shaving as the only acceptable hair-removal process during pregnancy. Did I mention that in about 2 weeks I will no longer be able to see the lower half of my body in the shower? Leaving almost HALF A PREGNANCY of enforced hairiness? Nice.

So, hairiness: it's for the baby. OK, maybe not, but it's totally the baby's fault.

It's probably for the best...

... that they don't sell Chef Boyardee or Chunky Soup or Pizza Pockets or freezer casseroles or Fudgesicles here. (um, Demolition man, anyone? Is Holland really San Angeles and does less-than-healthy=illegal? Because who DOESN'T like these products?)

I mourn them, but it probably is for the best that I can't get my hands on these brilliant, super-handy ready-to-eat meals (or fudgesicles). I mean really; if I had easy access to those things, I would never actually cook. I would live out of my cupboard and microwave and while I'm sure my calorie count would be high enough each day, I don't think my vitamin/nutrient count would be. And then I'd have to take prenatal vitamins. And since I can't even swallow relatively small gel caps, I'd throw up. (But seriously, have you seen the size of most prenatal vitamins? If you haven't, you should go to the drugstore right now and look at the 'actual size' depiction on one of the boxes. I can't believe anyone can swallow them.) And then even the sweet Chef Boyardee goodness would go to waste. So, for the baby, it really is for the best that we live in Holland where they don't have ANY good ready-to-eat meals OR FUDGESICLES (really, people, how has this nation survived so long?!) and I am forced to actually cook.

Note: when I go 'home' for Christmas, in addition to standard festive overeating, I am so totally going to buy myself a couple of boxes of fudgesicles and pizza pockets and eat them all. I will then fill my suitcase with Beefaroni, Chunky Soup, and Campbell's soup until I am within a mg of the luggage limit, and cry a little that the frozen goods wouldn't make it back. It might be for the best that they don't sell those things here but I don't have to like it.

Klingon Opera *Now with photos*

Today I dragged a friend of mine along convinced a friend of mine to go with me to a performance of Klingon Opera. I know, how geeky am I? But see, going to Klingon Opera isn't for me. It isn't just me sneaking out from my closet to be a Trekker for a day, no no, it's for the baby. And, like any good mother-to-be, that's important to me and justifies many of the things I do. Like the horrible fish oil capsules I chew, drink the oil from and spit out - ewwww - everyday to promote Valentine's brain and eyesight development. Klingon Opera? Good for language development, obviously.

So today I got to reminisce about how I used to be a bit of a Trekker (not a Trekkie - I never had a uniform or glue-on pointy ears) at the WORLD PREMIERE of 'u'. Don't I sound fancy? No wait, even better, at the INTERGALACTIC premiere of Klingon Opera. The performance itself was surprisingly good. It totally wasn't a geeky Trekkie convention like I was kind of hoping it would be (I brought my camera with the BIG memory card for just such mocking fun photo opportunities); it was a serious opera in a foreign language. And seeing as I've never actually seen an opera in a non-foreign language, I can't really say that was a drawback. In all truth, I thought it was way better than the Chinese Opera I saw in Hong Kong and walked out of after the first act because come on. I saw one act. Wasn't that torture enough?

So, just to summarize: Klingon Opera - recommended during pregnancy.

See, a Klingon with a Bat'leth (I swear I had to look that up) 

This is a scene depicting (in the Klingon way) two warriors making love in the blood of their enemies. Note the red light.

Almost everyone is dead. Klingons are warriors, you know. 

Chocolade kruidnoten (Holland prepares for Santa. In September)

I can't believe the shelves are already filled with Santa* treats. Seriously. It's the beginning of September and the grocery store already has chocolate letters, kruidnoten, taai taai (really gross, tough cookies) and, caviar of pre-Christmas treats, chocolade kruidnoten. This is like selling candy canes and chocolate decorations already. Before Halloween. Before Thanksgiving. Before the autumn equinox for cryin' out loud. I'm shocked. It's just... wrong. Outrageous, even.

Not so outrageous that I refused to immediately grab a few bags of chocolate kruidnoten, though. I mean, principles are one thing, but seriously people - chocolate kruidnoten? If I don't get them now, they'll be gone and I won't get any. And then I'd probably cry. Call it hormones. Actually, I came close to crying last year when they ran out and I wasn't even pregnant then. Maybe it's just me.

So I grabbed three 750g bags and threw them in our shopping cart. My husband comments: "Oh, of course; you want to bring some to Canada at Christmas." Well schmidt. I hadn't even thought of that. My thoughts were more along the lines of: OMG Kruidnoten! Quick! Get 'em quick! Hoard! Hoard! I really had no thought for my dear family in Canada. I guiltily turned back and went and got two more bags. For Canada.

Whether they last that long is a whole other issue. Especially since I'm already more than halfway through the first bag. What? You ask; not saving them for Sinterklaas and Christmas in Canada? Well, Internet, no. I considered saving them but then my dear friends on Facebook helped me rationalize it convince me - I am PREGNANT, after all. I need to feed the baby.

So now I'm inhaling my chocolate kruidnoten with such speed that I might even run out of them myself before the autumn equinox. But that's okay. It's for the baby.


*I live in Holland. And in Holland, Santa (Sinterklaas) comes on December 5th. All of these treats are associated with Santa, NOT with Christmas. After December 6th you'd be very hard pressed to find any of these treats. Unless you stock up. Like I do.