The Working Mom by Kay Luna

I’m a sucker for a good celebrity mom story. I guess it’s up to you to decide whether this is “good” or not.

Singer Christina Aguilera has posed for Marie Claire magazine in all her pregnant glory — wearing ONLY a cropped jacket, hoop earrings and a ring. Check it out by clicking here. She looks close to being naked.

I’m sure that picture is something she and her baby will treasure someday. But did the entire rest of the world need to see it, too?

I think she – like Demi Moore who went before her — is trying to send a message: Pregnancy is not something to hide under huge house dresses or dorky balloon-like shirts with storks on them and big arrows that say “Baby on Board.” She’s saying that pregnancy is a beautiful thing, accomplished by a woman’s amazing body, and should be celebrated.

Now, would I pose like that? Yikes, no. Maybe for a photo to keep among my own little family, but not to be plastered on a magazine cover. I’m not as bold as she is, and let’s face it, I’m also not as young and skinny! haha!

But I did go to a professional photographer when I was 8 months pregnant with Babycakes and got an artsy photo taken of me, showing my belly prominently. But the belly WAS INDEED covered by a shirt. Here’s that picture attached.

But, good for Christina for being bold enough to bare it all.

Please don’t take offense, dear family. But I’m dreading Thanksgiving this year.

It’s because the holiday’s going to be all different. Tradition has been thrown out the window.

In a way, it simplifies things. But it’s messing me all up.

Usually, on the official Thanksgiving day, we drive an hour-plus to rural Illinois, and split our time between my Dad’s house and my grandparents’ house. It’s always a mad-dash to get to the meal sites on time, without hurting anyone’s feelings or leaving abruptly.

And I’m always carting two dishes to pass at each house, and eating in “waves” so I don’t fill myself up too quickly in the day.

Then, later in the weekend, we usually have a “fake Thanksgiving” event with my brother and his family, who always come up from Tennessee. It’s usually the only time in the whole year that we see each other, which is shameful, but that’s the way it is.

This year, my brother isn’t going to visit. Family stuff going on. So, we won’t have raucous games of bowling and Trivial Pursuit and marathon-movie-watching and pig-out-a-thons to look forward to with them that weekend.

And, my grandparents don’t live in their own home anymore. This summer, Grandma fell and broke her hip, so she and Granddad moved into a local independent living facility.

It’s too hard to cart them to someone else’s house for Thanksgiving. We have to be somewhere where bathroom facilities are extremely handy and there’s plenty of room for her walker, etc.

So, instead of going anywhere else, we’ll be bringing Thanksgiving dinner to their one-bedroom apartment this year.

We won’t be able to get elaborate with the food items and decorations, because no one will want to carry it all up three flights of stairs. And I don’t know if any other family members in the area will make the trip up here to eat with us.

And I’ll be worrying about keeping Babycakes off the floor at their apartment, where they might have dropped blood-pressure pills or any other imaginable nasty items that babies shouldn’t put in their mouths (but, of course, Babycakes will most surely want to try).

So, although I don’t need to worry about navigating conversation with large groups of family members that I don’t spend all that much time with, I am dreading change.

How about you?

Something new showed up at my house at about 6 a.m. this morning: One SERIOUS baby poop.

If you’ve ever had a baby, you know what I’m talking about — the famous “OH-MY-GOSH-HOW-COULD-SO-MUCH-COME-OUT-OF-SUCH-A-LITTLE-GIRL?” poop. Even Babycakes was grossed out.

Let me just say she was covered, literally, from head to toe. And it took everything in me to not openly gag in front of her — a Mommy has to be polite, you know.

After I got her wiped up enough to get a clean panty on her and wrap her in a blanket, we sat and rocked for a long time while she calmed down.

Then, feeling the deadline to get to work coming at me, I rushed around to get her clothes into a bucket of water to soak for the day (dang, what else is there to do with a hot mess like that?), and get her cleaned up enough to put into the bathtub.

I haven’t felt very good lately, either. I dragged myself to work for a Sunday night shift with a fever, but I bowed out of working on Monday, leaving Babycakes with the sitter while I slept all day at home. I came back to work yesterday, but I still don’t feel right.

Haven’t ate much lately. And after this morning, don’t plan on eating anytime soon. Rough stuff.

And now that I’ve shared my morning, and you’ve probably gagged right along with me, I hope you have a great day!