...or not.
I just read this over at Storked! The guest writer, Erin, writes about the pre-birth grooming she plans to do (or planned to do, if she's already given birth).
Reading this and reading the comments made me think, "Huh, maybe I'm just weird or I just suck at being feminine."
I felt my first contraction and my water broke, simultaneously, at 3:00 in the morning the day Pic was born. I had just gotten into bed for the night (the insomnia is nothing new) when this happened. I jumped over Cardo to get to the bathroom. I had heard many people say that the amniotic fluid would ruin the mattress and we sure didn't, and still don't, have the money to just go about buying new mattresses. We both got dressed and ready and were at the hospital by four. I might have combed my hair.
I didn't schedule any manicures or pedicures and surely didn't schedule any sort of waxing. I still think that would have sucked, considering how sore I was after pushing a person out of me. Actually, I've never had a pedicure and I got a manicure once, right before I got married, because I thought that's what brides did. Believe you me, never again. I hated having acrylics and the woman actually cut my cuticles and I have major cuticle issues (I've got a little gag reflex going on just writing about it). I can cut and paint my own nails at home just fine, thank you.
However, I didn't realize that so many other people plan these kinds of things pre-birth. I'm guessing it's mainly a psychological thing, as some of the commenters said. They would feel better going into the birthing process if they felt they looked good. I didn't see myself while giving birth, but I just imagine that I was none-too-cute. I don't even remember looking at myself in a mirror for a long time after Pic was born. I really didn't care how I looked. (Hey, doesn't sound entirely different from how I feel about my looks now.)
All in all, this Storked! post just made me feel kind of out of touch with this femininity that perhaps I'm supposed to have. Eh, I'll get over it.
[Pic's up from resting now and she's doing my hair for me. Who needs a salon when I've got Pic? Gotta jet -- we're going to get outside for a bit, until we're sufficiently frozen through.]
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P.S. Before I go, let me just say, I don't mind when others avail themselves of salons' facilities. I know that many other people actually care what they look like. And, often, others look really great. I feel that I always just look like me so I'm better off expending my energies elsewhere. ... This is not to say that I don't sometimes wish I could have someone else style my hair, pick out a killer outfit for me and send me off for a night out, but, well, someday.
Sunday, January 10, 2010
i'm ready for my close-up...
Posted by v at 14:34
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1 comments:
I didn't shave my legs or anything else for 3 months before Nikki took over my side of the universe.
It never ever crossed my mind to struggle to shave or shower before I went to the hospital. I was even clueless about an overnight bag.
It took 8 months before my friend, who was there, finally said something about my hairy legs. But she lives in a salon and if she is not waxed, dyed, plucked, acryliced to her eyeballs then she just cannot go out.
I don't get it.
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