The Snarky Momma occasionally (okay, sometimes) reviews products on her review blog related to parenting, domestic goddess-try, and personal care. Her opinions are honest, based on her own experiences, and will be published even if she does not find the product satisfactory. She will always disclose how she got a product and whether she was compensated to talk about it. If you want to send her a product, contact her via email at tiffany [at] snarkymomma [dot] com.
Wednesday, February 24, 2010
She ain’t heavy, she’s my mother.
I need to do a better job of keeping up with my weight gain from one OB appointment to the next. What I mean is, I know what the scale said today, but I can’t remember what it said last month…so I don’t have a reference point.
This is Girl Scout Cookie season! I need to know if I’m within acceptable parameters or if I’m turning myself into a heifer. I *think* that I gained less weight in the past month than I did the previous month, so that bodes well for my cookie-eating.
I could just call the OB’s office and ask what my recorded weight was, but I don’t want them to think I’m trying *not* to gain weight. Well, to a degree I am, but not in the way you’d think. I know a lot of my weight gain with Rosco came from things like Sprite and Orange juice. That sugar just *stuck* to me. I was so miserable that summer: my under-boobs were sweaty all the time and I had problems catching my breath when walking around downtown. I don’t drink sugar now.
If I can stay in the 30-pound range I’ll be one happy momma. If I exceed that, it’s not like I can complain since I don’t exercise other than what I get carrying Rosco to the bathroom to brush his teeth when he’s refusing. (On that note, as soon as I finish typing this I’m going to put on some pants and go out in search of candy. I just eyed a discarded Skittles wrapper in my trash can and it’s influencing me.)
In other rumblings, I have to do that damned glucose test at my next visit. My appointment is at 8:30 in the morning, so that means I have to chug that nastiness at 7:30 before I’m even good and awake. I hope I don’t barf up that glucose drink. It is sooooooooooooo sweet. It’s like drinking 10 ounces of soda fountain syrup. [If you’re not familiar with the one-hour glucose test, basically when you go in at 22 weeks your doctor will hand you a little bottle of this sugary concoction with some instructions. On the morning of your 26 week appointment, you chug it an hour before having your blood drawn. They’ll then test you to see if you may have gestational diabetes. If you fail, you have to take a three-hour test. If you refuse to take the test, they have to treat you like you have diabetes.]
Oh, I HATE that glucose test. I don’t even drink soda. I just despise the idea of it. Ick.
I gained a little under 30 lbs with #1. 50 lbs with #2. Granted, #2 was 10 lbs 4 oz…but it isn’t like he was 20 lbs heavier than #1 so can’t blame it all on him.
She ain’t heavy, she’s my mother.
I need to do a better job of keeping up with my weight gain from one OB appointment to the next. What I mean is, I know what the scale said today, but I can’t remember what it said last month…so I don’t have a reference point.
This is Girl Scout Cookie season! I need to know if I’m within acceptable parameters or if I’m turning myself into a heifer. I *think* that I gained less weight in the past month than I did the previous month, so that bodes well for my cookie-eating.
I could just call the OB’s office and ask what my recorded weight was, but I don’t want them to think I’m trying *not* to gain weight. Well, to a degree I am, but not in the way you’d think. I know a lot of my weight gain with Rosco came from things like Sprite and Orange juice. That sugar just *stuck* to me. I was so miserable that summer: my under-boobs were sweaty all the time and I had problems catching my breath when walking around downtown. I don’t drink sugar now.
If I can stay in the 30-pound range I’ll be one happy momma. If I exceed that, it’s not like I can complain since I don’t exercise other than what I get carrying Rosco to the bathroom to brush his teeth when he’s refusing. (On that note, as soon as I finish typing this I’m going to put on some pants and go out in search of candy. I just eyed a discarded Skittles wrapper in my trash can and it’s influencing me.)
In other rumblings, I have to do that damned glucose test at my next visit. My appointment is at 8:30 in the morning, so that means I have to chug that nastiness at 7:30 before I’m even good and awake. I hope I don’t barf up that glucose drink. It is sooooooooooooo sweet. It’s like drinking 10 ounces of soda fountain syrup. [If you’re not familiar with the one-hour glucose test, basically when you go in at 22 weeks your doctor will hand you a little bottle of this sugary concoction with some instructions. On the morning of your 26 week appointment, you chug it an hour before having your blood drawn. They’ll then test you to see if you may have gestational diabetes. If you fail, you have to take a three-hour test. If you refuse to take the test, they have to treat you like you have diabetes.]
Okay. Off to get candy.
Posted by Tiffany on 02/24 at 03:08 PM
_______________________________________________________________Oh, I HATE that glucose test. I don’t even drink soda. I just despise the idea of it. Ick.
I gained a little under 30 lbs with #1. 50 lbs with #2. Granted, #2 was 10 lbs 4 oz…but it isn’t like he was 20 lbs heavier than #1 so can’t blame it all on him.
Good luck!
Posted by Candace on 02/28 at 07:31 PM
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