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Chivalry. It is not dead. 

There are mamas out there who have raised their children up right! My proof is my daily New York City subway commute. 

I have been taking an informal ethnography of the kind of person who gives up their seat to a pregnant lady on a crowded subway. I thought I would find that one demographic would be more likely to sacrifice but I was wrong. The well-mannered run the gamut in age, race, and gender. Although I will say, there are usually only one or two people per train ride that offer. Most people will pretend not to notice and keep their backsides planted. We'll deal with them in a less feel-good post. 

Truth be told, I felt entitled to the seat WAY before I was showing. Now that I am incontrovertibly pregnant looking, the seat is finally mine! I am offered a seat every day now, to and fro! You would think we were talking about a La-Z-Boy instead of a hard plastic subway seat but let me tell you, it is just as valuable! 

I will say that men of color have been the most likely to offer their seat up first. Hispanics, African Americans, and Asians in particular are the first to make eye contact and do the back-and-forth pointing gesture that means, "I'm going to switch places with you." When a teenage boy does it, I feel like crying and giving them a note to give to their mother that says, "Your son has manners. Good for you!" 

My pride tells me I don't need the seat and that I should just suck it up because there are plenty of preggos who have it a lot harder than I do. But I am trying to teach myself to accept help in my life and I am trying to do it with graciousness. So I accept the backside switcharoo and I make sure to let the giver know that I am very grateful. And I am!

So ladies, raise your children to be a Subway Seat Sacrificer. It is the right thing to do! 


Iron Baby

I already received the City Mini stroller from my registry but today someone sent me a link to this one on Twitter. I may have to reconsider. It could come in handy for the stroller derby that is Whole Foods in my neighborhood.


There was a pregnant lady who swallowed a fly

Sometimes this fun little gimmick called pregnancy clogs your pipes. Yesterday, in an effort to unclog, I drank an iced dark chocolate mocha. I'm supposed to limit caffeine but since I am not usually a coffee drinker, my doctor said one a day is more than fine. I like to reserve the caffeine for just such an occasion so I indulged in an afternoon treat at about 3 p.m. figuring I'd hit the throne by dinnertime. No such luck. 

Obviously I have no tolerance for caffeine. It worked a number on my poor nerves. I was a ball of anxious energy all afternoon. Come dinnertime, I decide I could/should indulge in my weekly glass of wine, which is another pass from my doctor. I figured a bold red would calm the nerves so I nursed a glass of merlot with my steak. And when I say nursed, I mean it! I took two hours to drink that one glass. When you only get one per week, you savor it like the blood of Jesus! 

Bedtime rolls around and I am still flying high from the mocha. I try to fall asleep around 10 p.m. but it is futile. I grab my iPad and leave Baby Daddy sound asleep in bed. I play Words With Friends. I fool around on Facebook on Twitter. I read a few chapters of The Girl Who Played With Fire before it starts to freak me out. I feel like a dirty crackhead hot mess. 

2:30 a.m. I decide that Tylenol PM is my only hope for some sleep. My doctor said this was a safe alternative to Melatonin, which I used to enjoy before my pregnancy as a natural sleep aid. To no avail. I read more of my freaky book and start listening for cereal rapists on my block. 

3 a.m. Still staring into oblivion. Baby Daddy marches out and tells me to come back to bed. I finally fall asleep around 3:30 a.m. 

9:30 a.m. I wake up feeling like the world's worst mother. I put my poor baby through so many chemicals in the last 24 hours and I'm feeling guilty. I am allowed a little coffee, a little wine, and a little Tylenol but I don't think it is wise to put my poor little one through all three! And I feel like a jerk for letting it snowball, and all for a little pregnancy backlog. Which makes me feel just like the old lady who swallowed the fly. 

I swallowed the coffee to catch the constipation. 

I swallowed the wine to catch the coffee. 

I swallowed the Tylenol to catch the wine.

I don't know why I swallowed the coffee. Never again! 

My little one has been kicking the dickens out of me all day. I think it's still upset. Mommy is sorry! I won't do that again, I swear! 

Mommy lesson of the day: Learn to be patient and not take such extreme preventative measures. Don't want to be like Grandma Bruan who gave me ex-lax at the age of 6. Slow and natural is far better than being a sleepless constipated Troll doll! 

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