Ain't No Mom Jeans

Cost and Other Considerations of Maternity Clothes

In M's recent Mom Street Style post, our reader Julia discussed the practicality of shopping with her growing bump in mind in the non-maternity sections of her favorite stores, and she looks fantastic. Price is one consideration for Julia (and other readers chimed in to echo Julia's sentiment) when considering maternity vs. non-maternity lines, giving rise to the sensible question: Why are maternity lines often priced noticeably higher than non-maternity contemporary women's clothing?

Stephanie Moore, the owner of Becoming Mothers in Boulder, CO (a shop that S adores) and a virtual expert on the topic, was kind enough to contact us and provide some answers.

 

Emily Top by Lilac Maternity- $66

 

The most direct answer to the question of price is this: unlike most lines from big box stores and large retailers, many of the smaller companies specializing in the maternity market manufacture their clothes in the United States.

In contrast, many contemporary lines are manufactured in third-world countries. For example, Stephanie spoke with Armon, a manufacturer in California, who pays his sewers minimum wage and provides benefits. While he'd love to keep his business in the United States, the reality is that sewers overseas would earn $1-1.50 per day and wouldn't be given benefits. Simple math creates a reality where products manufactured in the United States (or other developed countries) have to cost more in order to cover the expense of maintaining an operation domestically.

Things get less simple when considering the ethics of our shopping choices. Not so long ago M discussed the human costs that are paid by workers who create our fashions in order to produce a product that has a low price tag. These unseen but very real consequences of our quantity-over-quality culture should certainly play some role in our maternity wardrobe selections as we make choices that accommodate our budget and our conscience.

Skinny Cargo Pants by Maternal America- around $50 on various sites

 

Aside from the economics and ethics of where the clothes are made, the of size and proportion of quality maternity designs must be taken into account. Like Julia, due to both budget constraints and style preferences I chose my maternity wear carefully and fleshed out my wardrobe with my 'normal' clothes. But there came a point where this grew less practical. And by less practical I mean nothing cut for a non-pregnant woman would fit over my body in a comfortable, flattering way. I got bigger. And bigger. And while cardigans or accessories could stretch into the larger stages of my third trimester, maternity wear became a necessity because nothing else (perhaps a sheet? a tent?) would cover my bump in the front and some of the lumps I grew in the back.

What I've Learned from Japanese Mothers

With only a change in one's perspective the most ordinary things take on inexpressible beauty. When we don't know, we don't judge. And when we don't judge we see things in a different light.

-Karen Maezen Miller, Hand Wash Cold

The language barrier during our time in Japan has been a struggle for me. I'm a social person, a curious person, a talkative person. Many of Dave's teammates have partners but most of them can't speak English any more than I can Japanese. This puts an interesting dynamic on social situations. That dynamic could also be called 'awkwardness.'

Giveaway: Ashley Ann Photography's Online Snapshop Course

****THE GIVEAWAY IS NOW CLOSED*****

Congrats to Wileenie, our new winnner!!

***********************************

Mamas, despite the fact that we do have a fancy DSLR camera....this is how I typically take photos:

"Wait!  What?  Where?  Hang on...getting my phone....RAINES!  Wait!  Hold it!  No!  Come back!  COME BACK!  C'mon you stupid iPhon--- no honey, I wasn't talking to you.  I called the iPhone stupid. Yes, you are right, stupid is not a kind word.  No!  Don't run away again!  AUGHHHH!"

Thankfully, I have Mike.  Who can wield a DSLR with precision, speed, and deadly- nevermind.  That line didn't work.  But the point is this:  he takes good pics.

The problem, however, is that I'm the one home with the kiddos.  I'm the one seeing Raines' crazy-haired, sleepy-eyed, post-nap self when he pads down the hall in his super-hero tighty-whities.  I'm the one chasing Pax's chubby little bum around for our ritual change-and-escape every morning before breakfast.  I'm the one who sees most of their episodes of brotherly love and the rare moments of quiet contemplation during the day.  

I don't want to miss these moments.  I want to eat these moments up!  I want to revel in them.  I want them never to end.  And when they do?  I want to remember. 

So I signed up for Ashley Ann's online Snapshop course (it was one of our gift recommendations, if you recall).  I had very low expectations.  While I really, really want to take good pics....I just don't have an eye for it.  Mike does.  My mom does.  Many of my friends do.  I?  Do not.  

So I signed up primarily to learn, in some small way, how to wield a DSLR camera.  I had been using our camera, but either on automatic settings or, when in manual, much like a monkey would.  Mike pointed out which buttons needed pressing ("blah blah blah closed aperture...blah blah ISO-blah"), and I would, monkey-like, jab these buttons randomly until a shot came out reasonably well.  Sometimes I got lucky.  Mostly I did not.

So imagine my surprise! Delight! Overwhelming feelings of gratitude! when Ashley Ann's course worked.  Worked in a way where, almost immediately, I was taking some decent shots. Where suddenly the "blah blah blah" part of Mike's instructions came into sharp focus, and I'm now able to contribute opinions about ISO, and aperture, and shutter speeds.  But even more shocking?  Her class gave me an eye.

Now, let's not get crazy.  I'll never be an Ashley Ann-caliber photographer.  But I'm...not bad. Good enough for the kind of shots I want to get, good enough, certainly, to capture the little everyday moments with my boys in a heartfelt way.  Good enough to capture shots that transport me back to the moment they happened.  To remember.  

Ashley Ann's class was nothing short of a gift.  A gift we'd like to share with you, dear readers.  Ashley Ann was kind enough to offer one of you a spot in her upcoming Snapshop courses (DSLR camera required).  The next courses will be offered from Jan. 15 - Feb. 5th or from Feb. 26th - March 18th. To enter, leave us a comment telling us the moment that you'd most like to capture.  The winner will be picked at random on Thursday, Jan 12th.

And be sure to head on over to Ashley Ann's blog.  Her gorgeous pictures and down-to-earth words will both inspire and encourage. (And it doesn't hurt that she is delightfully nerdy and funny.)  

xo,

S

ps.  A pic from one of my "homework" assignments.  So braggy, I know....but I was just SO proud of myself:

The Best Santa Pic....EVER. (I Promise.)

We interrupt our regularly scheduled programming to bring you this little gem....

The picture below was posted on my old collage buddy's facebook wall.  It's of his friend's niece and nephew.  We're re-posting it here with permission.  My friend wrote:

This is a real picture of my buddy's niece and nephew years ago. I dare anyone to present a more amazingly perfect Santa/Christmas picture. Then entire experience of holidays stress, having toddlers and babies, indoor/outdoor environments requiring too many clothes changes, too many people, too much waiting, and all the constant work to make memories are all encapsulated in this gift of a split second. 
Spend some time looking at it, then go away, then look at it some more, then look at each kid individually for 10 whole seconds, only then quickly shift to Santa's face.

OMG.  Priceless.

I can't get over the baby.  And his sister making a break for it.  But the baby.  In his Christmas sweater.  Clearly screaming "F-THIIIIIIIIIIISSSSS" in baby-talk.  

And there are really no words for Santa's face.  No. Words.  (His eyes!!! OMG!  Look at his eyes!! LOLOL)

Happy Holidays, Mamas.

xo,

S

Heartbroken

Oh, Mamas.  It is with a very heavy heart that I write.  Some of you may remember Baby Anaya, who we profiled last April.  She had been diagnosed with Krabbe Leukodystrophy and wasn't expected to live past her 2nd birthday.  Her mother Camara was desperately looking for breastmilk donations.  I know many of you donated to Anaya's cause.  I know many of you shed tears for baby Anaya, for her mother and family, and many of you sent prayers of love and support their way.  So I know many of you will be as heartbroken as I to learn that little baby Anaya has passed.

Beautiful baby Anaya passed away, in her mother's arms, on November 13th.

In her blog, Camara writes:

I held my little love for hours while she was on life support.  I kissed her face, her fingers, her toes, her lips.  I wiped her tears from her eyes.  I couldn't stand forcing her to stay.  I wanted to set her free. The hardest part was waiting for everyone to get there.  When the family was united we made the decision unanimously.  We removed her bi pap mask.

She was so relieved she gave one of her "Thank you" sighs.  We each took turns holding her.  The mask came off at 12 noon.  We gave her a bath - her favorite thing!  Her sister read her a book.  I played with her hair.  Daddy played with her toes.  As her breathing became more laboured we knew the time was drawing near.  I lay down on the bed and placed her in her favorite spot over my heart.  There became long pauses in her breathing.  Then she would gasp a huge awful breath and let it out in a long sigh.

I love you mama
I did my best mama

I told her how proud I was of her.  How many lives she touched.  How many babies she is saving.  How many parents love their children even more because of her. I told her she needed to go.  To stop fighting and allow herself to be carried away by the light. I told her I was sorry I didn't get her to the sunshine.  I opened my heart as wide as I could and envisioned the sunshine of my soul enveloping her and keeping her warm.  She took her last deep breath and let out the most beautiful baby sigh I ever heard.  There was no pain in it. It was the sound of freedom, relief, joy.  It was the sound of my baby crossing the rainbow bridge.  Her heart stopped and she was gone.

 

There are no words, Mamas.  I can't imagine the strength it took to say goodbye.  There are times when I realize how much I don't understand.  This is one of those times. 

Camara, I am so grateful to you.  For taking us all along with you on this insanely difficult journey.  I certainly count myself as one of those parents who love their children even more because of baby Anaya.  Your words have inspired us, your pain has humbled us.

Camara finishes with, "Please give me the strength to carry on and do what I have to do."

Readers, let's do what we can.  Send Camara and her family your thoughts and prayers.  Leave a message of support on Camara's blog.  But most importantly, remember that life is so very short.  And that the vast majority of us are very, very, very lucky.  I find that it's impossible to lose perspective when thinking of baby Anaya and Camara's journey.  And for that I will be forever grateful.

xo,

S

ps.  If you'd like to do more to help, I believe Camara has something up her sleeve in regards to setting up a foundation to end Krabbe Leukodystrophy.  Follow their Facebook page for current information.

Hate Throwing Your Kid In Front of the TV? Here's a DVD Collection You Will Love

There's all sorts of warnings about kids and TV exposure.  Too much TV may inhibit babies' language development.  And toddlers?  To summarize another recent study, too much TV makes toddlers fat and dumb.  Whoa.  Think I'm exaggerating?  Dr. Linda S. Pagani, the lead author of this study, says (much more eloquently than I do): 

We found every additional hour of TV exposure among toddlers corresponded to a future decrease in classroom engagement and success at math, increased victimization by classmates, have a more sedentary lifestyle, higher consumption of junk food and, ultimately, higher body mass index.

Bad enough, right?  But it doesn't end there.  Even in teenagers, there seems to be a link between too much TV and depression.  However, experts aren't sure if this link (or any of these links, really) are because of the programming itself, the commercials, or the fact that TV time takes away from other, healthier activities.

I don't know about you mammas, but this mamma has a serious case of guilt everytime I use the TV to
"parent".  

How Sleep Trained Us

Brief historical overview of my feelings about "sleep training" (a phrase which I have since come to hate):

Before I Had A Baby: "Oh yes, I will sleep train, my baby will cry it out, I must preserve my night time or I will go insane!"

Shortly After Having A Baby: "I could never, in a million trillion zillion years, listen to my baby cry or fuss in her crib without me because my heart will simply break of sadness! I can live on less sleep than any other human organism if I have to!"

Eight Months Later: "We might have to try and sort of maybe kind of work on her sleeping habits a teeny bit because me and my boobies need some sleep more sleep never enough sleep I'm tired."

Today: "What we're doing is working...but we're not doing anything...and sometimes it doesn't work. Awww crap she won't be a baby forever bring me a caffeinated beverage."

After I had the baby, I was really shocked at how quickly people started asking things like "how does she sleep?" "is she a good sleeper?' "is she sleeping through the night yet?" And in all those questions, both consciously and subconsciously, people were judging. Rating. Assessing. My answers to those questions, I began to realize, supposedly revealed the personality of my baby, the style of my parenting, my mettle as a mother.

There are, I think, a few babies that sleep so much and so easily and nothing ever happens to change that and their mother likes to talk about it all the time so much never stopping:  'Oh little Jo-Jo is such a good sleeper, I just made sure to do x, y and z from day one and that was all I had to do and now I am always well rested and on the ball!'

Maybe those babies are as rare as an ivory-billed woodpecker, or perhaps they are more like...

Why Your Mom-Style Matters

When S initially asked me to contribute a few posts to ANMJ, I was really surprised. Flattered, but surprised. I appreciated her confidence in me and decided to leave the comfort zone of my own personal blog (where I live under the assumption that I am the only one reading it) and share my voice here.

The reason I was so unsure about contributing to a mom-style blog is mostly because I consider my 'style' to simply be an accidental whirlwind of comfort-meets-grandmother-meets-basics meets-accessories that could be found at a garage sale or on QVC. I'm a jeans and flats wearer, I repeat outfits on purpose. I don't read fashion magazines and I don't even like shopping. There, I said it.

What convinced me to add my voice? Before I contributed here, and before I was even an expectant mother, I was a loyal ANMJ reader. Even though I don't feel a passion for fashion the way S and M do, I do feel that confidence is the most important and attractive piece you can wear. Unlike most fashion blogs that emphasize trends and rely heavily on photo-shopped magazine images, this blog emphasizes dressing to your body and features pictures of real mothers looking great. 

When you become a mother, suddenly your world is turned upside down. Everyone told you that 'everything' would be different after your baby arrived and you believed them, but you didn't really know what they meant. Every.Single.Thing. You are still you, or at least you're trying to be goshdarnit!, but you have a lot of other responsibilities and a new outlook on priorities. There are days when getting your teeth brushed or finding two minutes to shower are hard enough. So the idea of throwing together a cute outfit and possibly adding some make-up? Ridiculous!

Even if it is ridiculous, I'm starting to see that it's important. Of course there will be days where it just isn't imaginable, desirable or physically possible for you to get out of sweatpants, and that's fine. That's life. But most days when you're heading to work, going to the park, running to get groceries, or picking up children strewn all over town, you are presenting your face to the world. Like it or not, how you look sends a message and your child is listening closely to what that message is saying.

Product Review and Giveaway – The OV-Watch Fertility Predictor

*****

UPDATE 9/19/11 | CONGRATULATIONS to Amy Oppie, who subscribed to Ain't No Mom Jeans emails!  She is the winner of our Ov-Watch give away.

Winner was selected at random with the help of Random.org

*****

Well here’s something that works.  Like, um, reaaaally well.  Maybe even if you only try it once, just like your mama said . . . The Ov-Watch is a scary-accurate, no-nonsense, no-mess fertility prediction device that forecasts your fertile window a whopping 4 days in advance of ovulation—meaning, no more race to the bedroom, even if you or hubs is out of town or on the outs.

Here’s how it works: OV-Watch is worn on the wrist at night, while you sleep, from the start of your cycle until ovulation.  I took about 10 minutes to read through the instructions, 5 minutes to set it up, and suddenly I was pregnant.  Or that's how it seemed.  I only got to test this watch for one cycle because that's how good it is, apparently. 

Total Backfire: Goodnight Grab Bag

We all like to think we're getting this parenting thing down, right?  Yet it always seems that just when relief settles in, the babes throw us a curve ball, no?  Am I the only one this so consistently happens to?  For our little family of 4-1/2, such is the case with the Goodnight Grab Bag, which I elatedly wrote up a week or two ago after it got my "jack-in-the-box" three-and-a-half-year-old to sleep allllll the way through the night, in his own bed.  Until, that is, he became desensitized to the fabulousness that is the cheep, Chinese-made dollar store toy.

It started, of course, a couple of days after I posted Total Genius: Goodnight Grab Bag.  H woke up in the morning, excited to dig into the grab bag, pulled out a water frisbee, and said, "Can I pick something else?"  Me: "No, sorry Honey, that's not how the grab bag works.  This is going to be sooo much fun at the pool!"  And it was.  But the seeds of expectation and disappointment were already sowed. . .