Can I give my baby girl my porn name?

Many moons ago, I work at a skin magazine. Not Playgirl. I worked there for years and years as some of you know. But this was before Playgirl. It was a skin mag where I wrote about hot boobies and flashes of ass from the sexiest stars in Hollywood. I wrote of their dalliances with other sexy celebrities and how big and juicy their tits were and I wrote about it in a way that made it seem I lusted after them, hoping the reader would get all lusty too and get off on the film stills of the celeb in stages of undress or in the act of simulated sex on the screen. There were nipple slips, too. Readers loved the nipple slips. The magazine was called Celebrity Skin and it was most purchased by incarcerated men. And I recently learned Skin is no longer in print.

Moment of silence.

Because we didn't use our real names in this fine publication, the staff came up with porn names. Mine was Nova DiGregorio.

Skin's staff had a Magic Marker, a Candy Warhol, and some other creative monikers I cannot recall. And you may recall the publication gained a lot of press when it was sued for featuring nude photos of Jennifer Aniston taken by paparazzi who trespassed to get the shots. Not the magazine's proudest moment.

But really, were there any?

So...Nova. It was one of my favorite names for a girl. It means new star. It's also the name of the woman played by Linda Harrison from Planet of the Apes -- the TV show, not the movie. Someone once told me I looked like her and boy was I flattered.

Nova is also the name of the coolest car on four wheels. I prefer the late 60s, early 70s Chevy Novas.

And yes, Nova DiGregorio was my porn name -- I combined my favorite name with a family last name. And I wanted to give that name to my girl twin.

I haven't told this story to my husband yet. But he is against the name anyway. He was for it, then decided it was too weird. His name is Hans by the way. This revelation will just put it further into the no pile.

I've already come to terms with it. Nova will not be the name of my daughter. Though I am finding it very hard to say goodbye to a name I really loved, despite it being associated with my past porn life.

Dear NYC,

I am hating you right now.

Let me make it clear. I do love NYC. I was born here and so far have lived 23 of my 36 years in NYC. The rest of the time I was only about an hour and a half away. But shit is getting wack. Or maybe I just am at my end.

Being pregnant in NYC summertime is crap. If it was winter it would be crap, too, just for different reasons.

It's super hot. Like 90 plus wicked humidity. But besides that, the subway is even hotter with even more stagnant air. It's like a sauna and pregnant women are not allowed in a sauna.

The other day, I couldn't wait to get home to relax. I mean, this is everyday, but it was this day in particular.

I take the subway -- the 6 to the F. It involves a transfer at Bleecker. But the 6 never stopped at Bleecker. No announcement, just barreled on -- passing stop after stop without even honking the horn like the train usually does when it skips stations. People were concerned. Finally came to a stop at Brooklyn Bridge, so everyone got off and backtracked without ever knowing why. Took the 6 uptown to the stop the train missed. What in the world was going on?!

When I finally got to the F train platform I was sweating. Serious sweating. Sweating like no human who only was walking should sweat. Not even a pregnant at 18 weeks with twins human. Though I do feel like I am turning into a bear with all the hair growing all over my body. But I don't even think a bear would sweat this much.

And I was already wearing my second pair of panties for the day since I sweated through the other pair. A nerd pair I bought from from Duane Reade. Hanes. Cringe.

Then I felt it. A stream of liquid running down my leg.

What? Was it my water breaking? It's too early. Was it blood? I was almost afraid to look. But I did.

It was sweat from my ass.

Dear NYC. I so hate you right now.

I can't sleep

I'm awake. A good three hours before I usually get up.

It was still dark before I made my flax waffles.

I had a bad day yesterday. It didn't help that the humidity in NYC was unbearable or that my ankles looked more like softballs or that it rained buckets.

I felt really ugly.

If I just looked at my baby belly, I was beautiful. But if I focused on myself, I was repulsed.

Ankles...told you about them. My legs are pale, translucent and in desperate need of some self tanner. I sweat...a lot...and it's getting more difficult to even shave my legs, and forget about my bikini area -- it's hard to see beyond my belly.

My skin is a disaster. And it's not just pimples on my face; it's my arms, my chest, my neck.

And when I looked in the mirror at myself, unshaven stark white legs that looked like sausages stuffed into nerd shoes, I had a moment of depression.

Am I thinking too much about vanity? Maybe.

But it is what it is. It is how I am feeling.

Some say you give up everything for your kids. But I don't believe you should. I want to still be me, a better me, a mom me, but a mom that is still me.

I went to bed around 9:45pm last night. Woke up twice to pee and that final time I got up, around 4:30am, I don't think I ever went back to sleep.

I decided to stop tossing and turning and get up. Feed the cats, feed myself those flax omega-3 waffles I eat just for my twins, get to work early so I can leave early.

I will shave today. Apply a little self tanner on those legs. Wear my heels. And hope for a better day.

How do you spell parents?

I don't want to sound like the grammar police or come off as a total bitch, but I have to admit I find humor in some misspellings.

Sometimes I just get annoyed.

But hey, I'm not perfect. I've misspelled before.

And feel like an ass when I do.

But here is my favorite misspelling of parents so far. Spelled this way by a parent.

Pearnts.

Meep!

What happens when you are surrounded by other bloggers?

My co-worker/blogher/friend Sheri wrote a roundup of some of her highlights at the Blogher conference in Chicago over at her blog Today is Pretty. Bloggity, blog, bloggie. Great idea, Sheri. So here's mine.

The thunderstorm Chicago had one night. Hearing it from the 20th floor of a hotel was crazy scary cool.

Having ladies want to talk to me for my tattoos or baby bump.

The Mexican feast for lunch on Blogher day 2.

Giving away oven mitts that said "Moms are hotter than you think" and seeing Sheri shake oven mitted hands with other bloggers.

Eating a turkey burger with French fries and lemonade at Feast. Yum!

The bed at the Sheraton. It was king-sized divine.

Listening to Sheri read her post "Amends" in the grand ballroom. She made me cry -- it was phenom. As were others. What talent!

Hearing Tina Brown of The Daily Beast say she would never go back to print.

Ilene Chaiken, creator of The L Word, in all white.

Watching Paula Deen prepare for her demonstration. She wanted to chat with the audience first. She's a firecracker, y'all.

Fellow blogher Kim worried about me at the Food Blogger session. The session I wanted to go to was too full so I joined her. It made me hungry.

The huge, bigger than my hand, chocolate chip cookies.

The Pioneer Woman, Ree, and Twanna of Funky Brown Chick in the Identity/Passions: Enough About You...Who's Reading You? session.

Deb from Deb on the Rocks in the Business of You session.

I'm excited Blogher in NYC next year -- no travel for me! Yay!

I want lemonade

Craving of the day: Lemonade.

Screw that -- lemonade is my craving every day.

All I want is lemonade. And then another glass of lemonade.

I buy lemonade from the store and then I cut it with water so I can still taste the lemonade, but it lasts four times longer.

It's as if I am afraid there will be a lemonade shortage.

My friend Sheri said she too craved lemonade when she was pregnant, only she would just eat a lemon.

Mmm...that sounds good, but only if the lemon was ice cold, fresh out of the fridge.

I'm going to Blogher

I'm driving from NYC to Chicago...over two days...while 17 weeks pregnant with my hubs in tow to go to the Blogher conference.

I'm super excited. And no, I'm not crazy...I just have an irrational fear of flying. The first step is admittance, right?

Anyway, if you are attending, perhaps I will see you there? Look for me! I'll be the pregnant tattooed lady wearing nerd shoes.

I bought nerd shoes

I wear heels all the time. If not heels, wedges, and the wedges are often three inches. I like slim shoes, not too clunky, and I enjoy them to be a little more on the fancy side.

With the extra weight I'm carting around, wearing these shoes are proving difficult. I had shooting pains rising up from the center of my foot yesterday while walking around. It was like walking on my own bone.

I broke down and bought nerd shoes.

Nerd shoes are expensive! I dropped over $100 on these Dansko good-for-your-feet old lady shoes. I spent about 30 minutes in the store deciding if I could do it. They are approved by podiatrists and have built-in-shocks or something. OK, they aren't that bad...they just aren't my style exactly. But they do give me two inches of height, which I like and they are soooo comfortable!

Right after I bought the nerd shoes I got lunch and a cookie to feel better.

I got a Snoogle

I'm at the point in my pregnancy where I am not supposed to sleep on my back. From 16 weeks on, they say, that sleeping on my back can cut air flow and circulation to the babies because your weight is on your major organs. Doctors say this, though some women say it's fine and it worked out with no issues when they slept on their back.

I'm not taking any chances and being a back sleeper, I wanted to buy a Snoogle pillow that contours to your body. But the Snoogle was almost $50 and so I decided to get the Snoggle mini Sleeper Keeper from Walmart for $29.97 instead.

I love it!

My hubs and I call it "the snake" and the only one who doesn't like it is my cat Mr. Puffins because it takes up the space where he normally lays next to me in bed.

Sorry Puffies. He needs to get used to me not giving him all my attention anyway. Oh lord I'm really worried about my two cats getting along with the twins.

Art for the baby room

Starting to think about baby room ideas! Hubs and I finally found a new apartment...we move in August 1st. And the room for our babies is incredible! It's huge with two floor to ceiling windows. Pretty incredible! It's a modern apartment -- everything is brand new -- but I love an antique and vintage aesthetic. I'm planning on incorporating old and new.

I saw this wall art at Urban Outfitters and I love the message.

Be the orange sheep in the family if the black is already taken.

This may be one of the first purchases.

About that Wilco show...

So I went to see Wilco last night.

Thank the lord we had seats. There is no way I could have stood up the entire time...16 weeks pregnant with ankles that seem to grow over and around my sandal straps.

Show time was right after work. AKA dinner time. My sister, Jen, and I were in a serious pickle (I wish I had one right now). Me: pregnant and food aversion city. She: just diagnosed with GERD and basically can't eat much of anything.

The best thing on the stadium's menu? Chicken fingers and french fries. No nutritional value for my twins and on the "do not eat list" for Jen. We had to, so we did.

I also made the mistake of getting iced tea, which tasted like a floral mess of sugar. I barely drank it. Bleh. Tummy ache.

The show was great, Tweedy had a super rad hair cut (as my husband pointed out), but here's the thing...I couldn't see a thing. The people who had seats STOOD UP the whole time. I mean, come on people, it's Wilco. You don't need to stand to sway around. Sit your ass down so those of us who can't stand can see!

So annoying. So was the pot smoke wafting around. And the cigarette smoke. After about 35 minutes I wanted to go home.

I hated that I was so cranky about it. I love Wilco! Love rock shows! Guess I'll just resume those hobbies after babies are born.

Shut your mouth about c-sections

We make birth plans. Yes.

We hope to stick with them. Yes.

But sometimes something happens and our birth plan is thrown out the window and a new plan must happen. Right away.

This happened with my sister. She had a natural birth planned, but there was serious trouble for the baby. An emergency c-section had to happen and thank God it did because the cord was wrapped around baby's neck and her heart rate wasn't what it should be. Tennessee was born healthy and mama did just fine as well.

Now comes the part I hate. When other moms bash births like my sister had. Don't make women like her feel bad about their birth story. A baby was born! It's an amazing thing no matter how baby came out of the womb.

There are many reasons women have c-sections, and frankly, it's nobody's business but their own. It just drives me mad when a woman glowingly talks about her baby's birth and if it's a c-section others will attack her...no matter the reason why.

I love that my sister's doula calmed her and said something along the lines of, yes, we had a birth plan, but this is now your birth plan, and that doesn't make it any less special.

One of my friends referred to her c-section as a first-class ticket into this world.

I just think we should celebrate birth...no matter the course of how the child got here.

My Vagina & 9 Other Things I Miss Most During Pregnancy

My coworker Sheri re-posts a lot of our CafeMom content on other sites for partnerships deals we have. She sometimes spices up the title or tailors the post for the specific site. She wrote to me today saying she hoped I didn't mind that she changed my title of What I Miss Most During Pregnancy to My Vagina & 9 Other Things I Miss Most During Pregnancy.

I was mad...because I hadn't thought of that title first!

Brilliant, I told her and thanked her.

Check out the full post on CafeMom and here's the list.

1. Margaritas. I never even knew I liked tequila so much! I'm not a lush -- maybe it's because it's summer and it's fruitlicious. But, here are some mocktail recipes.
2. My ankles. They barely exist anymore.
3. Sex. I've been too nauseous to have it, yet I really want to have it!
4. Bikini waxes. I don't like hair down there. Now I have hair everywhere and shaving isn't my thing. I shave, but it's not the same as waxing.
5. My vagina. See 3 and 4.
6. Sushi. Not that I was that adventurous, but I loved me a spicy crunchy tuna roll. Sure, I'm doing the AAC roll (avocado, asparagus, cucumber), but, again, it's not the same.
7. Coffee. Ooh that second and third cup I used to have in the mornings or that mid-day cup of joe -- caffeine fixes were once my addiction. Now I'm addicted to wearing my Sea Bands.
8. Staying up after 9:30pm. To think I used to go out until 2am sounds so crazy to me. Now that's when I get up for my first pee of the night.
9. Riding my bike and rollerskating. I bought new rollerskates last year, but can't lace up and I love riding my bike around the park. Have to wait until next year when I'll be riding and rolling off the baby weight.
10. Jeans. I wore jeans probably 300 days out of the year. I can't fit in mine and don't want to invest in maternity jeans just yet.

Going to a rock show

I'm 16 weeks along today and going to see Wilco tonight. It will be my babies' first concert.

I'm excited -- love the band -- but we did buy the tickets before I was pregnant. Thankfully it's an outdoor show, more room for the sound to escape, and it's at a baseball stadium, so I can sit in the stands while my husband and brother tough it out on the grass in front of the stage. My sister and I are fine with having a seat.

But this brings on a good question: With a baby in the belly, how loud (or soft) should music be?

My friend Lindsay and I were talking about this the other day. She's a mama-to-be too and her baby girl loves hearing music from the womb.

I read somewhere that 70 decibels is OK. But OK...how loud is 70 decibels?

I found this article in the Washington Post that said that 70 decibels is soft enough where you can speak easily over the sound. Similar to the sound of a vacuum cleaner.

Got it. Bleacher seats far enough away from the speakers will be good.

Now I just have to worry about what to eat.

Photo from WilcoWorld.net

I'm crying my eyes out over Michael Jackson

Let it be known I LOVED me some Michael Jackson music. My goodness that man could write a song and danced so cool, it made me want to shake my groove thing.

When I first started buying records back in the early 80s, I bought his 45s and albums, even his Jackson 5 stuff. Amazing.

Thriller was MAJOR. I learned every dance move to the title track and taught the neighborhood kids the routine for 25 cents each in my grandparents' basement on Queens. This is a true story. It was called the Michele and Colleen School of Dance and we had about 7 kids from the block who paid.

I can't believe Michael Jackson died.

I mean, people die, I know this. But Michael?

I cried when I found out and today, watching the memorial, I was bawling my eyes out.

I told my husband and wondered why it was affecting me so much. He reminded me: Uh, honey, you're pregnant.

Ahhh, super emo lately.

Jackson's daughter Paris got on stage and spoke about how much she loved him -- I lost it completely. Lump in throat, tears streaming, deep breath in with a sob.

I hope I grow really really old and gray and my kids are balding and on Lipitor or going through menopause or whatever else happens when you are older before they have to see me leave this earth.

Rest in peace Michael Jackson.

I'm feeling very aggro

Grrr. What is going on with me? I am feeling very aggro the last two days.

I had a nice meeting with my doula, all calm, talking about meditation, getting her up to speed on what's going on in my pregnancy.

Then my hubs and I decided to go out to lunch.

I had a yummy shrimp salad with asparagus and white beans from one of my favorite French restos, and when we were done, I wanted to stop in this lingerie shop to see if something caught my eye as a little special gift to my friend who is about to get married.

While crossing the street, we almost got hit by a girl on a wobbly bike riding the wrong way up the street. She gave us attitude yelling EXCUSE ME!!!!!

So my husband tells her that she is going the wrong way. She says (in a snotty way) she is watching a kid. Mind you, that kid is riding a motorized bike on the sidewalk. I believe that's illegal. Definitely not safe.

I got a little mouthy and told her she could have been nicer about it. Then she attacks me. Verbally. Says something I couldn't quite make out, but it involved little girl, possibly a curse word, and some other mumbling.

So I lashed out and told her fuck you. (Sorry unborn kids.)
She fucks yous back to me. Then says something about how I should leave Brooklyn and then rides her bike on the sidewalk. (Absolutely illegal -- I know people who have gotten tickets for this.)

I was born in Brooklyn, live here now, and I'm 36, AND visibily pregnant, so this infuriates. But I'm already across the street and, well, pregnant.

There were spectators, who were on our side. One guy said to my hubs and I, "What a crazy bitch." So I didn't feel so nuts.

But I wanted to kick her ass. It was like 1996 me came out. Oh when I was young.

Obviously I'm not going to get into a street brawl, but I was so angry.

Then I had a dream that night that a man first pushed me, then punched me in the stomach. All because I was deaf in one ear and couldn't hear what he was telling me. Note: I'm not deaf in one ear.

The dream freaked me out. Apparently so did the bike girl altercation.

A day later and I'm still all amped up. I need to zen out. I'm going to drink a juice box.

Baby names, oral sex, preggo dating, and prenatals

So much going on this weekend -- and I am so happy I have tomorrow off from work! But! We're still on the hunt for the right apartment to fit the 6 of us -- hubs, me, twins, and our two cats -- and that will take up a lot of our time.

Here are some things going on in my head....

We love the name Otto, but know others hate it. Plus, is it weird to name your kid the name that your husband's ex-GF husband has? Perhaps.

I've come to terms with the fact that I am of advanced maternal age aka elderly primigravida aka old mom. Well, sort of.

Dating when pregnant is so cool. When you're single, of course.

Prescription prenatals are effen expensive.

Is oral sex safe when you're pregnant?

Headache for days

What's with this 7 day headache? I had another 7 day headache last week, then it went away for like a day and now it's back.

It's in my eyes. If I move my eyes or even blink, the pain increases.

I know headaches are common for those of us who are knocked up, but jeez this is kicking my ass.

Oh and I find it funny how people are offended by the phrase knocked up.

Double oh...I don't want to take too many Tylenol because the FDA is now worried about the risk of 8 pills a day.

Not that I am taking 8 pills a day...anymore...well, since I'm pregnant.

Ouch, I blinked.

Image from I can haz cheezeburger