DIY Rosemary Wreath

It's December 1st, and while some of us have had a trimmed Christmas tree or other holiday decorations gilding our nests since Halloween, some others may still have rotting, painted pumpkins sitting on our doorsteps *sheepishly raises hand.*

I claim being 32 weeks pregnant with my second boy to be my excuse, but that doesn't mean I haven't had the "nesting" or "decorating" bug! I will INSIST that my muscled husband retrieve our decorations (and the baby swing) from the attic this weekend. 

Feeling in the holiday spirit since even before Thanksgiving (the months of October, November, and December feel like one long holiday with my birthday, my son's birthday, Thanksgiving, Christmas, and New Years in a tidy row), but not having the energy or physical capacity to do much nesting beyond compulsively organizing my pantry and washing baby clothes, I have wanted to do some crafts. 

I'm s-l-o-w-l-y finishing some ornaments that my son painted for grandparents' gifts (post to come)  and I was struck with infernal inspiration this morning, coming off a high from successfully baking classic beef pasties with golden onion and mushroom gravy last night (MaryJanesFarm magazine recipe Aug/Sept 2014 issue).

Also, after making this recipe, I officially want to wrap all meals in pastry dough forever and ever, Amen.

(Forgive the crappy photography. I snapped this last minute to text to my mom, not thinking I would use it on the blog.)

While snipping some garlic chives from my herb garden to mix in my scrambled eggs this morning, I noticed that they were being quite crowded by my pushy rosemary plant. Knowing it needed to be trimmed, I attacked it with clippers while my toddler ran up and down the sidewalk, and plucked a few ripe tomatoes from our limping tomato plant. 

What to do with all this Rosemary? A wreath! Our "Give Thanks" sign, topped with homemade ribbon needed to be retired for next year's harvest season, and since not many conifers grow in my neck of the woods, rosemary is an evergreen that smells lovely and looks Christmas-y. 

All I needed was: fresh rosemary sprigs (the woodier, the better), an embroidery hoop, floral wire, and a red bow (I also added some fresh cayenne peppers for a little Southern flair, but that could easily be replaced by cranberries, holly berries, or rose hips)!

With my crafting bug sated, I'm ready to finish decorating (and figure out what to do with the other  20 pounds of rosemary sprigs I cut)!

Happy crafting!

Oh Baby!

So, remember how excited I was about my garden this spring? Remember how much time and effort and love and investment went into that raised bed and those potted plants? Well, life happened, as they say.

About a month after my last post, when I was close to updating about all of the fruits of my labor about to begin ripening, something happened. My sister-in-love and her husband were spending the day with us on a mild, rainy spring day. She was teaching me how to make farmer's cheese and I was teaching her how to make yeast bread, when I noticed some heartburn.

I don't get heartburn...unless...I'm pregnant.

Oh baby! I was in denial for a few days, as I was still nursing my firstborn and we had been actively trying to avoid another child for at least another year or two, but finally succumbed to the nagging feeling that my body was off.

The test gave me double lines in about 0.5 seconds and I just sat in shock with my head against the bathroom door for half an hour.

I knew what was coming: the incapacitating nausea, the profuse vomiting, the battles to keep anything down, including water, exhaustion that makes me sleep for 16+ hours a day during the first 20 weeks, the dreaded spit-cup attached to my hip that helps immensely in preventing too much vomiting. How was I going to do this with a toddler? I had about a week to figure it out before I hit the wall.

After going to the doctor for a confirmation ultrasound, I numbly expressed my concerns to my mother, to which she replied, "Move in with me until the worst is over."

SALVATION!

After four months of misery, we made it out the other side and back into our own house. Needless to say, my poor garden was a disaster. A few huge cucumbers not worth eating, shriveled bell peppers, and dried-up-everything-else was the sad scene left in the wake of an unusually wet spring, unusually dry summer, and my complete neglect. The only thing that seemed untouched by heat and lack of water was the cayenne pepper (not surprising in Texas), some herbs, and the flowers I had planted for pollinators.

Since being back in our house, the irresistible call of cultivation has turned me to the "Dirt Side." Slowly, with my obstetric complications improving, I've been able to go from just walking in the grass to actually planting a few seeds, mulching, fertilizing, and enjoying the little piece of earth I call my own.

For the fall/winter, I've planted radishes and lettuces in a grow box, romaine in another grow box (though it bolted during a heat wave in October, which I'll replace with beets soon), arugala, one single scarlet runner bean, a handful of Swiss chard seeds, some sugar snap peas, and some MaryJane hard neck garlic (I REALLY want to taste those scapes everyone goes on about). I also have one pumpkin plant that survived the onslaught of some creature that was eating WHOLE plants overnight. I'm not sure if squirrels eat pumpkin plants, but they were my only suspicion, as I never found any bugs on them.

In short, I'm much less ambitious with this garden season, but I can't seem to stay away entirely. More than yields and practical use, gardening certainly gives me a sense of accomplishment, connection with nature, and encompassing sense of well-being.

These feelings, my friends, are the reasons our French sisters grow something in their homes. Even the smallest of apartments most often have at least a window box of herbs or flowers to answer that carnal search for cultivation.

DIY Magnetic Fishing Game

"Les poissons, les poissons! How I love les poissons!"

One of my favorite Disney tunes inspired a homemade gift for my son, who will be turning two tomorrow (eek!). The string is a little long and he might not be quite advanced enough to play the imaginative game of "catching" the fish, but I know he'll at least enjoy how they stick together.

Their construction is simple, though I'm terrible about remembering to take photos for tutorials (even though I'm a hopelessly visual learner).

I free-handed the fish and worm on junk mail and cut out all of the felt pieces. For the fish, I: attached the button eyes and embroidered the mouths, hot glued some cheap, weak magnets between the pieces (trying to prevent any swallowing accidents!), and used a blanket stitch around the edges for a cute look.

For the pole and worm, I had my dad bring some small, industrial strength magnets (he has everything AND a kitchen sink in his spare garage, that we ladies lovingly named "his toy box" when we were children), hot glued the magnet and a strip of leather string between the pieces, used a blanket stitch around it again for visual continuity, and attached it to the pole.

The pole is just a thick dowel from the hardware store that I (unglamorously) sawed in half. My original plan was to drill a small hole in the end, thread the leather string through it, and tie it off, but, thanks to pregnant brain, I can't find ANYTHING, which means I lost the drill bit.

Instead of my original plan, I simply rolled the string in some felt with hot glue and crossed my fingers my dear son won't be too rough with it.

P.S. I apologize for the horrendous photography. We've had nothing but rain and clouds for a week. No natural light=sub-par photos.

Wild Onions and Upcycled Pillowcase

We bought a house, y'all-officially-with a yard and a pre-existing clothesline. It's 1950-1970s-tastic, with wood paneling, horrible wallpaper in the bathrooms, and solid wood doors. It has an island on casters and beautiful sold-wood cabinets. Our blast-from-the-past also has a built-in rifle case in one hallway and a nautical light in the other hallway.

I'm officially in love with our house.

The other thing with which I'm in love? Our porch and yard. It's a small, standard city lot, with the original cyclone fence (we're currently building the privacy fence, thanks to an aggressive neighbor's dog). Plus, when I met our other new neighbors, they were ecstatic to know that someone bought the place who didn't own a dog (seriously guys, we're surrounded), but then you should have seen her face when I mentioned we'd have a few chickens in the coming months.

I tried really hard not to laugh.

Moving on to today's topic: wild onions and upcycled pillowcases. I'm so freakin' excited about our clothesline. Did I mention our awesome clothesline? When you've spent the last four years using an indoor drying rack and electric dryer that you know is just throwing money in the toilet, you'd be excited too.

Now that we have this wonderful contraption (hooray for old zoning laws in small towns which allow us to even have one), I can put it to good use and achieve that tantalizingly fresh smell one can only get with line-dried clothes.

However, I've run into the problem of my toddler breaking every clothespin he can get between his little hands. Seredipitously, in the Mary Janes Farm Sister issue for this month, one of the writers wrote instructions for upcycling an old pillow case into a clothespin bag to be hung from the line while working.

Well, her example was adorable, however, I am NOT the best seamstress when it comes to flat, round edges. They're not pretty, y'all, plus I didn't have any binding tape, and I didn't want to spend the time hand-making some. During the precious moments of my son's nap, I'm usually occupied, cleaning the kitchen, baking, cooking, unpacking, or reading. This leaves little time for sewing, so I looked for a pattern with straighter seams.

After a few fruitless minutes, I decided to just wing it. The result has ugly seams, and crimped ribbon, but it serves it's purpose:

I used a yard stick and the hanger to make the length and width, leaving one side attached, so that once cut, the fabric was one long piece. (In hindsight, I should have taken pictures while making it, but did I mention my time crunch?)

Because the open, pre-seamed edges are already reinforced, I used that as the bottom of the bag.

Next, I looped and cut three ribbons of equal size to act as the hangers hanging on the hanger. I love English. Then, I pinned the edge to form a seam (including the ribbons equidistant from each other). Sew.

After finishing with that seam, I folded it right-side in, and pinned to make the bag shape. Sew. Turned it right-side out, fixed the corners, and sheared the ribbon loops, so that I had two ribbons facing each other. Tied these ribbons on a hanger. I didn't have time to embellish
today, but I will do so later. Did I mention the time thing? I think I did. All in all, this project took about 15 minutes, and is so handy!

Now, onto the wild onions. I'm doing some major gardening experiments this season. My fascination with plants has evolved slowly, beginning with-you guessed it-France. My host family had a beautiful garden out back, and always had edible herbs and lovely flowers growing. My organic education began there as well, and has also evolved over the years.

I was terrified to begin growing plants. They don't tell you what they need like a kid or a dog. The few plants I tried to grow when I was young ended up getting drowned or forgotten, so I decided to start slowly. A large herb garden and my first fruit tree graced our apartment balconies these last few years and grew (pardon the pun) until I fell pregnant with my son.

Everything died but my Rosemary, aloe Vera, and lemon tree, and those were barely alive once I came out of my horrible morning sickness. Last spring, overwhelmed by new motherhood, I added only some garlic chives to the mix (scrambled eggs with garlic chives and some milk, salt, and pepper are DIVINE).

This year, with our new yard, I busted out some seeds I've been collecting and dove head-first into the world of raised beds. After mulling over building materials, I decided to go with plain 16 inch cinder blocks for the edges. They're tough, easy to move and reassemble into other shapes, and won't rot. Best of all? They require no saw, drill, or real maintenance and are cheap.

One caveat. They are ugly. I will paint them eventually, but I was so concerned with getting my seeds in the ground before it got too hot, that I didn't care this season.

Companion planting. Have you heard of it? From the research I've done, apparently, certain plants compliment each other: radish and lettuce, strawberries and spinach, onions and carrots, etc. one really cool one is the "three sisters." Practiced by American Indians, corn grows straight up and acts as a trellis for the nitrogen fixing bean or pea plant, and squash crowds out surrounding weeds and retains moisture in the soil by preventing evaporation. Pretty sweet, right?

In my fervor to  learn how this stuff works, I decided to "mimic nature" and plant companion seeds haphazardly in zones (i.e. I was too lazy to plan out rows). My garden looks something like this:

Three sisters (Glass Gem corn, sugar snap peas, crookneck squash)

Carrots and 10-15 onions

Lettuce and radishes, both assorted

Bell pepper and calendula

10-15 onions and assorted beets

strawberries, spinach, garlic chives

more onions and carrots (we eat lots of onions and carrots)

Parsley and assorted tomatoes

Snap peas

Courgette (zucchini, but I like the French name better)

Borage, nasturtium, calendula and two celery re-grow experiments (yep, I'm trying a Pinterest thing)

Cucumber and watermelon

Three Sisters (Sweet corn, snap peas, butternut squash)

What a mess! I know I planted waaaayyyy too much in the space I have, but I keep telling myself this season is experimental. I'm not all that familiar with growing annuals, because all of the herbs, flowers, and fruits I've grown are perennial (except parsley and basil).

I'll be watching and recording what grows well, what dies out, what takes over. We learn best from mistakes, right? RIGHT?!

Anywho, with the annual beds tucked in for the season, I've been stumbling around town lately, coming across various wild edibles. (I'm addicted to this blog.) Although I've been fairly certain about my identifications, I haven't actually gotten the nerve to eat any of them except chickweed and wild blackberries.

This is how my brain works: oh, that looks cool. I think I've seen that on Foraging Texas, let me look it up! Yeah, looks EXACTLY THE SAME. Mmmm, better not eat it, could be contaminated by the road, the dog in the yard, the......

See my problem? I have this theory that if I glean a few important ones from around town and grow them in my perennial beds (will construct along fence after fence is constructed), and they grow on their own, I'll feel better, because I know what's in my dirt. Make sense? Hmmm.

I may have OCD.

Well, I have a small partially shaded area that already has a cute picket fence by it, so I decided that if I found any wild edibles I want, I'll plant them there and water them and see what happens.

You may be wondering why I care about hunting wild edibles. Aren't domestics (the veggies at the grocery store which have been bred and selected over hundreds of years to create what we eat daily today) what we're "supposed" to eat? Yes and no. Domesticated plants are often fussy and are particular about water, sun, climate, and soil.

Wild natives are more suited to one's local area (climate, soil, etc), and tend to stock more nutrition than the average domestic (Ex: lamb's quarters, a wild relative of spinach, has 3 times the amount of calcium compared to spinach). Plus, they can bring visual and flavorful interest to domestic dishes.

I can go on about the wild ones, but in reality, I just need some plants that will take care of themselves because putting together annual beds every year can be time-consuming, labor-intensive, and expensive.

Back to the wild onions. Plantain, wild violets, wild primrose, and chickweed have been springing forth in abundance, but I haven't had the nerve to glean them yet. That changed today! While taking a family walk, I spied from across a big drainage ditch a robust flower that looked like an onion flower! Crow's poison (which is slightly toxic to humans and somewhat resembles wild onions is sprouting EVERYWHERE) has had me fooled a few times from a distance, so I didn't hold my breath when I came upon the humble plant.

Crow's poison smells like grass. Wild onions smell like onions, so I smell-tested the leaves and flower bud. YAY! Well, my husband and son had gotten quite ahead of me at this time, so I caught up with them, resigned to go back to the vacant lot and dig them up tomorrow.

We walked the rest of the mile home, and one street over, I saw a beautiful little tuft of grass with the onion bulbs swaying in the breeze above it, just sitting atop a culvert.

Excitedly, I bent over the colony of onions, grasped the base, and pulled straight up. They all came out easily and the smell reminded me of the last time I climbed Enchanted Rock. When we shimmied down the side of the granite batholith, a stream cut through the rock and nothing but HUGE colonies of wild onions grew along the water. The smell was sublime and identical to the ones in my hands.

The perfect little bulbs accompanied us home, where I planted them along the fence with some wild violets. I'll keep you posted on their growing. Tomorrow's agenda? Glean some healing plantain.

Happy homesteading!

Forgiving Bread

I've always had this thing about bread. A comforting food that can be smothered with all types of gooey, jam-y, buttery goodness, bread has long been a favorite food of mine. Cue my years in France: my fondness for the simple loaf has burned to an obsession.

See, I grew up on the long shelf-life loaf so common in American grocery stores. I'd only ever had "fresh" bread a few times before my journey to France and I was more contented making buscuits anyway. I had no idea what I was missing.

Bread is the core-nay the heart and soul- of French cuisine. Breakfast? Bread and jam. Lunch? Bread and cheese and meat with crudités. 16:00 snack? Tea and cake or tea and bread. Dinner? 3 course meal and BREAD!

One of the first things I noticed was the deeply nourishing flavor of bread in France and after heavy research and hounding of the local boulangerie owners, my answer was simple: water, honey, grain, yeast, salt.

WHAT?! There's no secret ingredient? No fairy dust? No magic spell to justify my hefty consumption of this new staple?

I had to learn their secret. If you've read some of my earlier blogs, you know my last attempt at bread-making was a catastrophe. Baking soda and baking powder are comfortable leavenings that I trust. Yeast has dark secrets that I've never been able to uncover. Until a few weeks ago.

You must understand I am a Pinterest addict and also obsessed with the Song of Ice and Fire series by GRRM. The obsession collided when I stumbled upon Inn at the Crossroads, a food blog featuring the sumptuous foods of the Westerosi Universe, and there inlay my bread-making salvation.

The Crusty Bread recipe was simple to make and used the exact ingredients recommended to me by the French bread-sages. After following the recipe religiously, my first batch was ready to taste.

Mouth watering, I tore a side of steaming, springy goodness, lathered it with salted butter and reveled at the wondrous flavor. The texture was perfect. The weight was perfect. The CRUST was PERFECT.

I was pretty excited, y'all.

Over the next few weeks I began experimenting (both, intentionally and not) with the recipe to accommodate my needs. The batch the recipe makes is enormous. We're talking 4 large loaves here. I love bread, but I also like it fresh, so I began halving the recipe and making it every other day.

The only problem turned out to be time. The mixing and needing time was eating up the precious hour I get every day when my toddler is asleep (yes, I have a toddler now, hence my long absence). Some days, I enjoy relinquishing my frustration into the dough with a good, hard kneading session (seriously, it's almost as good as crying), but most days, I need (pun intended) my time.

Therefore, I discovered a modified recipe for a bread maker. This recipe-handmade or machine made- is very forgiving. Seriously, I forgot the salt once and, though bland, the bread was still totally edible.

Forgiving bread recipe (for machine):

1.5 cups water
1-2 Tbls honey
4 cups flour (I use unable ached organic white, though substituting 1cup with whole wheat will still           give you a good rise)
1 package of active dry yeast
1 Tbls Sea salt
* 1 tsp-Tbls each of sunflower, poppy, sesame, pumpkin, and flax seeds

*optional

Mix the water and honey together, pour into machine. Add the flour and other ingredients according to your machines directions for basic bread dough. Set your machine on the DOUGH option. Once the rise is complete, wet your hands and transfer dough to a cookie sheet covered with parchment paper. Dive. Shape. Cut a few lines in the dough with a serrated knife. Let rise another 40 minutes to an hour. Set oven to 450 degrees and place a pan of water on the bottom rack (I use an enameled pan for cooking turkeys). Bake dough until the crust sounds hollow when tapped (I use a wooden spoon). Transfer to cooling rack.

Happy baking!

Eat your Veggies!

Being a new mom has dramatically cut into my free time. Big surprise. Every teenager alive has heard this warning from their parents as a psychological birth control. A mallet beating against the anvil of hormones telling them to get naked. Well, teenager or not, it's not a lie. Baby NEEDS me---constantly.

I actually want to hold him all the time, but I eventually DO have to put him down to do things like, you know, bath my stinky parts and maybe feed my calorie-burning inferno, milk-making body. (By the way, TMI: it impossible to NOT feel like a dairy cow while pumping.)

I digress.

My point is that with limited, baby nap times of about 20 minutes during the day, I need quick, nutritious meals that will help me keep up milk production and feel half-way alive. Cue the veggies, please!

We know the benefits. We've been knocked over the head by campaign after campaign touting the cancer-fighting, super hero phytochemicals: chlorophyll, beta-carotene, various amino acids that make up B vitamins, mono-saturated fats, tannins, antioxidants, etc. Of course, to benefit from these chemicals, we actually have to eat them, and prepare them for maximum absorption. Most people think the most healthful way to eat veggies is in their raw state, which is not necessarily always true.

It is good to eat some this way, but flash cooking them, either by blanching or sauteing, denatures many nutrients, making them easier to absorb. If you want to know which ones, take a nutrition class. I loved the one I took at UNT and learned that balance and temperance is the key to a healthful diet and state of being.

Also at UNT, I took a class entitled Stress Reduction Through Movement. Doesn't that sound happy? We actually covered some nutrition information as well. For information regarding overall health and well-being, I recommend the acronym NEWSTART. Click the link. Your adrenal glands will thank you.

Okay, enough diatribe. Onward to the recipe!

I've realized since being with my husband, that many people are intimidated by the thought of cooking vegetables. No, they don't taste like cupcakes and often, many people overcook them, resulting in mushy, nearly tasteless, wanna-be baby food. To those people, or to the seasoned cook searching for a quick, healthy recipe, I give you Stoven Veggies!

The concept is broad and can involve countless permutations and ingredients. This is one example.

Stoven Veggies

You'll need:

1 large russet potato, diced 

2-3 Tbs olive oil

1-2 cloves of garlic, peeled and minced

3 large leaves of kale or 2 handfuls of fresh spinach

2 small radishes or 1 small beet, diced

pinch of salt

pinch of pepper

1/2 tsp dried basil

1/3 cup shredded smoked mozzerella or 1/3 cup shredded parmesan (I'm a cheese hound, so I do both)

Optional: a few stems of fresh parsley

1.)Pre-heat oven to 350 degrees F. 

2.) In a small cast-iron or anodized aluminum pan (I have this one), heat the garlic in the oil, on medium heat until tender.   

3.) Add potatoes and agitate until all pieces are coated in oil.

4.) Add radishes or beet pieces. Repeat motion. Saute until pieces are slightly tender.

5.) Add greens and toss.

6.) Add seasonings. Toss.

7.) Add cheese and place on center rack in the oven. Serve hot when cheese has melted and slightly browns.

This is a very versatile recipe. Basically, you need : oil base, starch, greens, seasonings, and cheese. Mix, heat, serve. Prep time should not exceed 10 minutes, neither should cook time. Happy sauteing!

Babies Are Constant Surprises

Growing up, I always knew I wanted a kid. How? I wasn't sure about that part. I wasn't sure I could find a peer with whom I could live permanently. My obscene disregard of the clock and need to have solitary time on a regular basis aren't the most traditionally appealing traits in a woman.  Still, eventually, I wanted an offspring. I thought maybe an adoption would work or a foster child or sperm donor and IVF---or maybe I would just get knocked up after a one-nighter and never tell the guy. Who knows?

Well, I did end up finding a mate whom I could love and tolerate, and he me. When the subject of children arose between us, we'd always imagine a kid who could walk, talk, and throw a ball. We completely skipped imagining the baby stage and I especially never thought about the pregnancy part. We were rudely awakened in March of 2013. I hastily paced our tiny bathroom for half an hour while re-checking the pee stick every 30 seconds. Shock was the dominant emotion, mixed with equal parts joy and terror. Holy God, I am going to be responsible for this kid's soul, its life---AND I have to grow it. My body is going to be destroyed... My thoughts went round and round in circles like this for weeks. My husband was overjoyed, but his concerns were different from mine, mostly financial. He suddenly had the manly provider mentality.

Needless to say, we've survived thus far, but not without some bumps, both wonderful and miserable. This is a list of the most unexpected things I encountered through this whole process. If you are thinking about starting a family, male or female, feel free to consider these 10 things. Heads up, my details are very honest, so be forewarned.

#1  Earliest Symptoms of Pregnancy

Most books and websites list early symptoms as nausea, headaches, sore breasts, etc. as the earliest indicators. These were true at some point during the first trimester, but I had an inkling that my oven was occupied during the third and fourth weeks-before pregnancy tests are accurate-because my temperature was higher than usual and I was thirsty. The temp change wasn't readable, but when my husband would snuggle up to me during those early weeks, my body heat would make him break a sweat, when I would feel perfectly comfortable. Now, when I say I was thirsty, I was THIRSTY. Constantly. Stand-under-a-waterfall-and-gulp thirsty. Toujours. Point being that you will have your own signs. If your body feels off, it probably is.

#2 Puking

I have a strong aversion to vomit. Whether it be me or someone else, I will vacate the premises and sprint two blocks if I have a suspicion of someone retching. That being said, I was not looking forward to morning sickness. The first few weeks, I just had an unpleasant thud of nausea hitting the back of my throat all day. However, when week six arrived, I was camped out on the foot of my bed, that was conveniently 4 steps from my toilet. Twenty weeks and two ER trips for dehydration later, I only had a few waves of nausea and  some heartburn that hit me during the rest of the pregnancy. Most women don't suffer this badly, but for the lucky 2% (including the lovely Duchess of Cambridge) who suffer from hyperemesis gravidarum, pregnancy is anything but pleasant, and can result in being life-threatening.

Seriously, at 10 weeks,  I was standing next to my best friend, being the maid of honor, as she was GETTING MARRIED and I couldn't hold my cookies. I got dizzy and had to run back down the aisle to the bathroom to avoid complete and utter mortification. I still tried to hide under the table for the duration of the reception.  

#3 Feeling baby move is like glitter-bubbles and rainbows

When I first felt the baby move, and was sure it was the baby and not gas, I giggled stupidly to myself for an hour. You will feel as if all is well and you are actually pregnant. There is much doubt before this. One just feels sick and dying in the weeks before this sensation. During the second trimester, the baby moving feels like someone is tickling your belly from underneath your skin. It's sensational and happy. The last trimester feels like a mongoose in a burlap sack, but you are terrified if you go too long without feeling said mongoose move.

#4 Friendships shift

Friends who don't have kids will either jump on your pregnancy bandwagon and you'll feel as if you've started some trend-train headed for Hollywood, or they will become so disinterested in your bodily function and excuses to not go out, that they will become acquaintances. Don't fault them for this. They have no way to understand how your complete world has shifted and that you have absolutely ZERO control over any of it.

#5 Being healthy is crap

Not really. Not in the sense you're thinking. When I fell pregnant, I was 116.2 lbs, running 2-3 miles a day, was a total yoga rat, and my diet would have made any Food Inc. nutritionist proud. None of this mattered. It didn't matter how much I took care of my body, I had an high-risk stamp on my medical charts throughout my pregnancy thanks to HG, severe anemia, and obstetric cholestasis---none of which I could improve through diet and exercise. I had to give in and take medications, stay on modified bed-rest, and be induced 3 weeks early because of these issues. If you suffer from pregnancy complications, remember it's not your fault. I spent a lot of time feeling guilty about taking nausea meds (that are usually given to chemo patients) and other prescriptions, because I'm a naturalist. I had a complete meltdown to my doctor one day, crying, "I swear I'm not negligent! I just can't stop throwing up!" and "I feel like every time I take a pill, I'm chopping off one of its fingers!" She assured me, these drugs don't work like this. They're safer than letting the conditions run their course. Drugs = better than severe dehydration. Got it.

#6 You will want an ultrasound every week

Reading about the size of your baby as compared to something from the produce aisle every week is not enough. Depending on your doctor, you may have an US during you initial visit, your 8th, 20th, 32nd, and 36th weeks. During the initial visit, the baby isn't usually visible, but the amniotic sack is. Read: jellybean. 8th week: gummy bear. The print-out of that gummy bear will help you mentally withstand the rest of your morning sickness or HG. It has a heartbeat and may even wiggle around. My gummy bear looked like he was dancing rhythmically. I finally believed I was pregnant.

#7 Gender disappointment

Like postpartum depression, gender disappointment is rarely discussed. My husband and I were sure we were having a girl, and when the tech told us, "It's a boy! He's not shy!" My reaction was happy that he was healthy so far, but strangely jarred and sad that it wasn't a girl. All of my daydreams of the baby had revolved around pink nursery accoutrements, taking her to tea rooms, theatre, American Girl dolls, and all of the things I did as a child. I felt so guilty that I wasn't simply overjoyed to have a baby at all---a healthy baby at that! Once I worked through the guilt and realized that I wasn't alone in feeling like this, I began to feel happy about all of the boy things I would get to do with him. It took me a few days, but I realized that I could still take him to the theatre and museums and hunting and a tea room, he would just learn the male social construct. He would be my date and wear tiny little suits and learn manners. I can teach him to be a well-rounded gentleman and an appreciator of art, science, tea, and taxidermy---just like his father. Now I can't imagine not having him and I'm sooo excited about raising a boy!

#8 Between pregnancy, L&D, and recovery, which was most pleasant?

Drum roll please... labor and delivery was easiest and most enjoyable of the three. This does NOT apply to everyone and I certainly didn't expect it myself. Due to my complications, I went into early labor twice, but was able to stop it at home. Those labor pains though, began ripening and dilating my cervix. I went into true labor the night before my induction, but needed pitocin and my water broken the next morning. I opted for an epidural before these, but was at a 5 with very little pain. The contractions were more uncomfortable than anything. With the epidural and all of the induction aids, I progressed to a 10 while receiving visitors and talking with my sister and husband. The nurse came to check me and said, "Okay, time to start pushing!" That was a surprise! It progressed, and though exhausting, it was exciting. I hadn't daydreamed about too many good things related to an infant, but the finality of the pregnancy being over was my main motivation in pushing. The relief that followed is one of the sweetest sensations I've ever experienced (being taken care of in the hospital for 3 days was really nice too).

#9 The Feels

Oh wow, was I so NOT prepared for the feelings part. I've always been a bit of a hard-ass. I can tell you exactly one movie (The Christmas Shoes) and one book (Where the Red Fern Grows) that have made me cry. Relationships? I always end them. Falling in love? It takes me a looooong time. It took me 4 years and living together for 3, to decide that I wanted to marry my husband. I assumed that it might take me a few months to warm up to this parasite that had made me so, incredibly miserable for the better part of a year. Nope. As soon as I saw him, I burst into tears (where previously, through the whole labor, there were none). A mixture of relief, joy, pure love, some worry (the nurses had to take him away to pink up), and emotions for which there are no words crashed upon me in an enormous, happy, fluffy avalanche.

#10 Baby Bliss

This may come as a surprise to many people, but I had a hard time imagining the happy, goofy-in-love part of the baby coming out. I had visions of a screaming, pooping, hungry, infant that pop culture has turned into a mainstay of Hollywood comedy. I knew sex was going to be on hold, I figured breastfeeding would be difficult, basically all things that are glass-half empty about having a baby. Even Baby Blues were imagined more than any happiness and contentment about this little larvae. Quite the opposite happened after the delivery. I was exhausted and in a considerable amount of pain from the tearing and packing, but I had an overwhelming sense of well-being. Aside from some emotional sensitivity the first few days home from the hospital that was directly related to some nursing issues, I was in Heaven. Imagine my delight at changing a diaper at 2:30 AM, and smiling dumbly to myself. Staring for hours at my sleeping little parcel wasn't long enough. Hearing him cry physically pains me. Seeing him smile or learning how to grasp makes me giddy.

Ultimately, of all my grand academic and recreational accomplishments, they pale terribly in comparison to the pride and joy I feel of growing this little human. I am a mother, struck deeply in love.

For all of the mamas out there, what was unexpected for you? For all who want children later, what do you imagine motherhood to be like?