So the legend goes, pregnant women get crazy cravings for weird food combinations. The token pairing of pickles and ice cream has become so familiar that it’s now a swanky maternity clothing store. But is it a funny cliché or simply a reality? For us, it’s the real deal.
Though my wife has not once dealt with morning sickness throughout the pregnancy, she has definitely battled leg cramps. Of course, I’ve documented how she’s overcome them, by giving her body a surplus of the nutrients the baby is taking. Yet since then, as our baby has been getting much bigger, the discovery of pickles (which provide electrolytes) and ice cream (which provides calcium) has helped ensure those leg cramps are kept at bay.
And hey, I’ve got no complaints. Last Friday night we had to make an “ice cream run” after dinner at the house. She chose a box of fat free Vanilla frozen yogurt, while I chose a low fat French Silk Chocolate. As usual, she liked mine better. Her secret to eating low fat ice cream is this- add two spoons of peanut butter and a little Hershey’s Syrup. Some might think this defeats the purpose of low fat ice cream. We’d rather live in ignorant bliss.
All pictures with the “JHP” logo were taken by Joe Hendricks Photography:
Pop music finds a way to safely put into words what we sometimes can’t easily speak.
Yesterday as I was driving home, a song came on the radio that I had never heard before- “Red Ragtop” by Tim McGraw. I’m the kind of person who always listens carefully to the lyrics of a song; and part of the 2nd verse caught my attention: “We were young and wild; we decided not to have a child. So we did what we didand we tried to forget and we swore up and down there would be no regrets.”
It’s important in songwriting to say something without actually coming out and saying it. In Aerosmith’s 1989 hit, “Janie’s Got a Gun”, the words “rape” and “incest” are never used, but for anyone who has halfway listened to the song before, it’s pretty obvious it’s a story about a girl who is sexually abused by her father and eventually takes revenge by killing him.
Abortion is such a heavy and delicate topic; laced in political, moral, and religious factors. It’s an extreme thing- typically people are either hard-core against or for it, while there are obviously some in the middle who believe abortion is excused from their opposition reasons in the event of rape, incest, certain death of the mother, etc. But to never bring it up in the entertainment genre of music would be odd, given that it’s an event that happens every day- an event that has affected many people, most of whom I am not personally aware of who they are.
So I find it very interesting to see songs become hits that deal with abortion. Aside from “Red Ragtop” which went to #5 on the Country charts, there are two particular songs I want to examine. It was only a few years ago I found out that in these songs the protagonist’s girlfriend gets pregnant and has an abortion. They were both performed by alternative rock artists and were popular while I was in high school. And the songs both have a strong emotional tune to them while straightforwardly telling their stories with lyrics that evoke shame, sadness, and a sense of regret and guilt mixed with the realization of the need to move forward in life, despite their personal choices.
The first of these songs is “The Freshmen” by The Verve Pipe which rose to #5 in 1997. While this song is officially about a guy dealing with guilt after his girlfriend commits suicide, I can’t deny the fact that some of the lyrics paint the picture of abortion as well- which according to Wikipedia, is the actual story behind the song: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Freshmen_(song). Here are some lyrics from “The Freshmen”.
When I was young I knew everything
And she a punk who rarely ever took advice
Now I’m guilt stricken, sobbing with my head on the floor
Stop a baby’s breath and a shoe full of rice
I can’t be held responsible
‘Cause she was touching her face
I won’t be held responsible
She fell in love in the first place
For the life of me I cannot remember
What made us think that we were wise and we’d never compromise
For the life of me I cannot believe we’d ever die for these sins
We were merely freshmen
We’ve tried to wash our hands of all of this
We never talk of our lacking relationships
And how we’re guilt stricken sobbing with our heads on the floor
We fell through the ice when we tried not to slip, we’d say
The other song, more surprising for me, is “Brick” by Ben Folds Five, which also was a hit in 1997: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Brick_(song). Below are lyrics from the 2nd and 3rd verses. After reading them, the reality of this song becomes much clearer. I had always thought of “Brick” as a decently happy song; at worst, a song about a happy guy and a depressed girlfriend. But it’s obviously much more than that:
They call her name at 7:30
I pace around the parking lot
Then I walk down to buy her flowers
And sell some gifts that I got
Can’t you see?
It’s not me you’re dying for
Now she’s feeling more alone
Than she ever has before
As weeks went by
It showed that she was not fine
They told me son, it’s time to tell the truth
She broke down, and I broke down
Cause I was tired of lying
Driving home to her apartment
For a moment we’re alone
Yeah she’s alone
I’m alone
Now I know it
So beyond our own personal convictions on abortion, the songs mentioned here give us the gravity of it: Even dressed up in a catchy song, the truth is, the subject of abortion itself leaves a feeling of sadness and regret. The narrators of these songs have been deeply affected by their decisions. It appears they’ve learned to forgive themselves, even if under the guise of “we were young and irresponsible”, yet they aren’t able to forget; as consequences resurface.
Ironically, while waiting for my first child to be born I am accompanied by thoughts of the finality of my own life. Having a baby is such a huge milestone, such a life-changing event, that my mind skips decades ahead to when my kid will graduate high school, to when I will be a grandparent, and ultimately, to my inevitable passing into eternity. In my mind, all those big events are strung together like bubbly Christmas lights from 1988.
My wife and I have this agreement that concerning our own inevitable deaths, we will die healthy but of “natural causes” in our sleep, both at age 92, holding hands. And I would assume that most happily married people would wish for the same thing- to be able to raise their children with their spouse, to grow old with their family, and to pass this life in our right minds – not lonely and suffering in a nursing home. I don’t consider a sudden brain aneurism, a car accident, or being mauled by a bear while hiking through the woods. No, you see, I have carefully planned out my own “natural causes” death in a romantic and perfect way.
And that’s the only way I can think about the end of my life- with optimism. Assuming I will live a long, happy life, giving all I can to my family. It’s the only way I can think, because even now, two months before Baby Jack is scheduled to arrive, I am responsible for another life. I have to be here to take care of him. And my wife.
I truly am incapable of trying to fathom how so many people in the world don’t have a solid understanding (or at least some kind of basic perspective) of what happens after this life, and that they don’t think about it on a daily basis like I do. How the afterlife is completely something to be considered, how beyond heaven and hell issues, this dream of life is the prequel to eternity. And now, already, a new soul has been created, and I had something to do with that. I have changed the course of eternity.
This baby is not just a body; he’s got a soul. A soul that will need guidance for this life and the eternal one. And I have to be here for that. Even if these thoughts may seem dark and depressing to some, I refuse to ignore the reality that life and death are intertwined. As much as I “try not to take life too seriously” like all those stupid bumper stickers and annoying e-mail forwards tell me, I still take life seriously enough to think about this stuff.
All pictures with the “JHP” logo were taken by Joe Hendricks Photography:
Just a few short weeks ago I published dad from day one: Leg Cramp Alarm Clock where I proclaimed, “Ultimately, she’s pregnant and leg cramps are part of the deal. They will probably be replaced by another annoying inconvenience. And what will I do? What can I do?”
But now, looking back, I think, “How could I have been so absent-minded to say that?” In that moment, I must have forgotten my own belief system when it comes to curing ailments- that any kind of developed physical ailment is a symptom and a warning sign of something the human body is either lacking or has too much of. I believe God gives us those clues to help us figure out how to become healthier, not simply to fix or mask the problem.
Just like the way I learned the hard way The Cure for Eczema(click title to find out how), my wife had to learn how to prevent/stop having leg cramps. And since she has made some slight changes, the cramps not only stopped, but haven’t came back once since then. These leg cramps weren’t simply another annoying side effect of being pregnant- they were my wife’s body’s way of screaming out for at least four things in particular (because the baby is “taking them from her”): calcium (the baby’s bones are hardening), magnesium, water, and better blood circulation.
She has been faithful to take at least one calcium supplement and one magnesium supplement every morning and constantly drinks from a Voss water bottle (it’s just a cool botttle, since it’s made of glass instead of plastic- it’s not magic Norwegian healing water or anything) she refills several times a day from the fridge (she also drinks water any time she wakes up during the night). And as much as possible, keeps her legs slightly elevated- she has a papasan rocker chair so her feet don’t touch the ground when we’re just hanging out at home; and often she rests her legs on a pillow when she sleeps.
So far, it’s done the trick.
The leg cramps have not snuck back yet. And if they do, my first response will be: More water, more calcium, more magnesium, elevate your legs…
All pictures with the “JHP” logo were taken by Joe Hendricks Photography:
I can’t eat just one Pringle. But I am able to eat just one can. Typically.
It’s funny how the summer time itself can make you feel more popular and sociable than normal. My wife and I have noticed that nearly every weekend this summer we’ve got some event planned with other people, not to mention the many dinner parties we’ve already attended in the past several weeks. Since there’s always that item or two that we need to bring to the dinner, we end up at the grocery to the day before to pick up the garlic bread or salad.
And while I’m there, I sneakily mosey over to the potato chips isle to explore the local Pringles selection. Despite how adamant/religious I am about what I eat (nothing processed, no pork, no shellfish, no sugar, only wheat bread, must drink a minimum of three liters of water a day, etc.) I am willing to admit that one of my surprising weaknesses is any random can of Pringles potato chips. Maybe it’s this subconscious belief that regular potato chips are “white trashy” and Pringles are the sophisticated option. Even as a kid who never cared about nutrition, I still have always preferred Pringles over any of the greasier and/or more fattening options out there like Lay’s or Doritos.
Anytime I’m invited to a dinner party now, I use the event as an excuse to buy a can of Pringles. It would be against my self-imposed moral code to simply purchase chips and bring them into my house to eat, because that means I’m contributing to the junk food industry. But if it’s for a party, with the intended use of sharing, that it becomes justified in my mind. And with all the weird flavors that Pringles provide me with and my curiosity to try them all, often I come home with at least half the can still in tact. Prime example: Last Friday night, Mozzarella Sticks and Marinara. (Basically the distinctive ingredient is sour cream.)
Surely obsession with Pringles is that they give me the illusion that I’m eating unhealthy foods like Bloomin’ Onions, Quesadillas, or Cheeseburgers, though I’m actually eating low fat potato chips. The flavors themselves provide entertainment. Not the mention the labels themselves.
For example, right now I’m looking at an empty can of Pringles Xtreme Ragin’ Cajun. I like how a serving size is 16 “crisps”, not chips. It’s funny how “spices” is listed as an ingredient, then a few later comes “spice extracts”, then “paprika extract”- so vague and yet specific all at once. Of course there’s some Red Lake 40 thrown in there for effect, which is extracted from petroleum (click healthnutshell: Red Food Dye to read more about that). My favorite part of it is the last ingredient listed: “and natural and artificial flavors (including smoke)”.
Wait, I don’t get it. Is the smoke real or artificial? Or half fake, half real? I really need to understand this…
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