Fitting In

When I was younger, I fit in anywhere. I could instantly find friends anywhere. I had no pre-conceived notions about who would/wouldn't make a good friend. Boys were not "Icky." Girls were not pretentious. I could slap a coffee filter on a G.I. Joe figure to have him parachute from the third story window immediately after cuddling my Cabbage Patch doll.

I knew what I believed, but was happy to hear everyone else's views. Many Sunday mornings, after sleeping over at my best friend's, you could find me with her in her Lutheran Sunday school class. I went to Catholic school. At lunch, among friends, I debated the value of Yom Kippur vs. Catholic confession (9-year-old me was quite certain one day of fasting and coming to terms with G-d myself was much preferable to cowering in a confessional being judged by a priest and 30-something-year-old me still feels exactly the same way).

So many people fear public speaking. Not me. I love it. I'm comfortable in front of crowds. I wanted to be an actress. I'm a born leader and I enjoy (almost) every minute of it. The best compliment I ever received from my mother was when she asked, "Why did you never become a rabbi? You know all this stuff. You've always been a leader. You would have been good at it."

Now, though, I find it increasingly difficult to fit in. Among most of my friends, being Jewish makes us the odd ones out. With one group of fellow Yids, we're too observant. With others, we're not nearly observant enough. With some people, we're the wrong religion entirely and therefore not even a candidate for friend. I have to bite my tongue around some friends so as to not make political comments that I know will tick them off. Many of my friends are far older. A number of those have grown children, so when I'm exasperated by the toddler tantrums, my friends look at me like I have three heads and go back to helping their daughters' plan their weddings. Others are young and single and are equally baffled when the toddler tantrums or the kindergartner insists on wearing his Batman mask, bathing suit and not much else. They're too busy planning their road trip with friends (from which they will post ten THOUSAND pictures to Facebook) to hear my explanation.

So it's nice that we have finally managed to find a little space in the world where we've collected people with whom we feel comfortable. I can randomly bust into song and not only will no one stare, but some friends will actually JOIN IN and sing along. One or two might even grab their guitar or play along on the piano. And that, right there, makes all the slings and arrows in life so much more bearable.

"You meet people who forget you. You forget people you meet. But sometimes you meet those people you can`t forget. Those are your friends." --Dana Scully "the X-files"

Make new friends and keep the old (but only if they're Christian).

I heard of such things, but I didn't believe they really existed, at least not among nice people. I figured the concept was just something people threw around to try to prove a point of bigotry. Sure, some bigotry exists, but I didn't believe it really existed in such an outright and confusing form.

People really exist who won't be friends with people who are not Christian. Please excuse me while I find my jaw and pick it up off the floor.

What's even "better," people--sweet nice people, won't be my friend because I'm not Christian.

The one in question (and I suspect now that there have been others) isn't some mythological awful vicious beast. She's nice. She's very sweet. She and I have a lot in common. I often invite her to parties and events and she always declines. I figured she was just busy with her large family and many commitments. Nope, she's just...Christian.

This blows my mind. I don't understand it at all. I tried discussing it with a (Christian) friend who laments that she's on the opposite side. She knows she has friends who are ONLY friends with her because she's Christian. She tried to explain the rationale to me as she's actually had this conversation with some friends including the one in question.

Turns out some people believe only fellow Christians can share their goals, beliefs and philosophies. I find this so odd because, for years, I recognized that my parenting style and goals were most similar to a fundamental Christian friend. Politically and religiously, we were polar opposites, but our goals in life (menschkeit, even if she probably wouldn't refer to it as such) and parenting were the same. We had a lot of fun together and we had some great discussions. She once called me, "Insightful," which, to this day, I think is the best compliment I've ever received. My life and my children's lives are richer because she and her children were a part of them.

In addition, I've been told that, some Christians basically have the idea that, "You're going to hell anyway and I'm not, so why bother getting attached?" Hold on. There goes my jaw again. Must go chase it as it rolls under my desk.

Now, I know many (if not most) branches of Christianity believe that faith in Jesus is the only way to heaven. Funny, though, many of those claim that their and only their exact interpretation of Jesus will drop you on the yellow brick road to heaven. Everyone else is either headed to hell's western shore or will have to renounce their beliefs in the end times. Honestly, I find that offensive. Go ahead and pat me on the head and say, "Oh, that's a cute little doily your son has on his head, but I'm right and you're wrong and in the end, you'll just toss that in the trash and hand him a 'Jesus Rocks' baseball cap instead."

Judaism believes it's actually EASIER to be a good person if you're not Jewish. We have 613 laws to follow. The rest of you have only 7 fairly simple ones (among others, don't murder people or eat a live animal and you're good to go).

In Judaism, we don't focus on the afterlife. Whereas Christian texts write extensively about heaven, we Jews know very little about what the world to come has to offer. That's because our focus is on the here and now. If we worry about our behavior here, the rest will take care of itself. So my concern is not who I'll share a booth with in the next life, it's who I'm sharing a drink with in THIS life and how I treat him or her.

I'm just stunned and in disbelief that this not only happens, but has happened to me and that it's done by otherwise nice people. What a shame! What an absolute shame!

Old people rock!

Today, an elderly couple stopped to chat with me. The woman mentioned that she has two great grandbabies. She saw my brood and asked if they were all mine (NOT in the usual condescending tone). When I confirmed they were, she smiled and said, "Four is a great number. It's a perfect size for a family." I smiled and said, "We think so."

I can't tell you how nice it was to hear something like that. So often, my gaggle of kids is met with wide eyes and a horrified, "Are they ALL yours?" I must point out that my kids are very well behaved. People make these comments while the kids are standing right beside me in the super market or are sitting on a bench with me at the park. It's not as though two are attempting to do a trapeze act from the light fixtures while one rolls around on the floor and the baby's busy pickpocketing someone's wallet.

So I was very grateful for the kind and accepting words of that woman.

She reminded me of Cleo, who lived across the street when we moved in. She moved to a nursing home years ago, but she was a lovely elderly woman in my neighborhood. Cleo was 93 and had eight children and more grandchildren and great grandchildren than she could remember.

When I was at my wit's end with colicky premature twins and a husband who worked the night shift when he wasn't deployed, I would pack up the twins and go for my daily constitutional. I'd pack them in the stroller and walk around the neighborhood. I'd stop to visit Cleo on her porch and we'd chat, mainly about babies (hers were born at home).

One time, I tried to make a hasty exit when the twins were particularly fussy. Cleo didn't even bat an eye. Whereas we always hurriedly left restaurants when the twins made so much as a peep which caused people's heads to snap around violently so that they could glare at us; it didn't bother Cleo in the slightest.

I told her they were hungry and started to rush away. After she asked if I was nursing and I assured her I was, she said, "Then just feed 'em. In my day, they got hungry and we fed 'em. No need to get up and go. You've got what you need. "

That was when I was still new to nursing and nursing in public was often a tricky fumbling disaster. So I was so relieved to hear her say such a thing. Not long after that, I became quite the pro at nursing in public and I think Cleo's reassurance played a big role in that.

Turn and face the strange cha cha changes.

Times they are a changing!

Lots of changes, minuscule, monumental and everything in between going on in my world and I wouldn't have it any other way.

We're making lots of changes around here. New phone number. New social media outlets. New pets. New career for the husband. And, as early as August, a new address for all of us. Wahhoo. Yippeee! Hallelujah! And other such exclamations of happiness.

Then, just today, a great new volunteer opportunity was presented to me. It's birth-related and you all know that's something that's near and dear to my heart.

Something that hasn't changed is my family. I'm still happily married (for over a decade) to my husband who rocks. Our kids are great. Girl2 finished the entire Harry Potter series in 7 weeks. She has since moved on to the Septimus Heap series. We have to take two of the books at a time out from the library because she finishes them so quickly. Girl1 prefers the Graphic Classics. Thus far, H.P. Lovecraft is her favorite. They both taught themselves to ride without training wheels this year. TheBoy loves math, Ponyo, BabyMouse, Franklin, the Hulk kids' comics and any sort of attention. This kid has a future in sales because oh boy is he a charmer! TheBaby celebrated her first birthday, but before that, she took off running and climbing. She can make it to the top bunk on her own (much to my dismay). This kid doesn't sit still. She now has a head full of blonde curls. Her smile is absolutely adorable. And what a lover! She runs over to us just to give lots of kisses. That sweet face of hers does sometimes remind me of what we're missing, but that smile and those hugs and kisses help me heal.

Now, for some less-than-thrilling news; I've been re-evaluating blogging. Obviously, this joint isn't as jumping as it once was. I tried NaBloPoMo in hopes of once again lighting my blogging fire, but it just didn't happen. While it did inspire me to do some writing of which I'm proud, it just didn't lure me back to the blog side. So I've decided to leave this place and ride off into the bloggy sunset (blogset?).

I won't be going anywhere just yet, but I'm going to wrap this blog up in the not-too-distant future. This place will remain, but I'll be movin' on. I've written quite a bit here about military life, veterans' issues, homebirth, midwifery, c-sections, breastfeeding, babies, Judaism, children, twins, and just life in general that I'd like to keep available in the blogosphere. I'll leave comments opened as well, but I'll leave the current settings--older posts have moderation enabled to thwart the spammers.

My weekly weight loss update (a few days late and a few pounds short)

Sorry I'm late with my posting this week. With Pesach and the news about my friend's mom, I've been so busy.

This week, I was 140.8. I have now lost 10% of my starting body weight. My goal was to be under 140 by Wednesday and maybe, just maybe, that will actually happen. I'm not sure, though, because that weight was at the end of the week, not my usual mid-week weigh-in. Plus I've splurged a little bit since then. I'm going to get lots of walking in tomorrow and Tuesday and then we shall see where that takes me.

The weather is so gorgeous lately. I'm going to grab the opportunity to be out in the sun as much as possible. I'm hoping I can start working in the garden soon. I'm not much of a gardener, but it's great exercise plus then we can grow our own healthy pesticide-free veggies. Plus it's always a homeschool lesson for the kids.

Tomorrow is another big meal night, but we're keeping it simple (fish, green beans [yes, we eat kitiniyot. Dh and I are Ashekenazi, but I'm Sephardic too, so Passover is the one time of year I pretend that other side doesn't exist] and mushrooms) and we'll have a little K for P wine.

I'm keeping my fingers crossed that I can hit that weight goal by Wednesday. Of course, I have a scheduled lunch date with friends that day. We're going out for Chinese to celebrate the end of Pesach and the return of chametz. It's not even bread I'm craving (I'm actually hoping to stay pretty low-carb even after Pesach has "passed over"). It's the sushi and soy sauce. Yum!

More Bad News

Do you remember that friend's mother I mentioned? The one who was diagnosed with cancer, was unresponsive to chemo and was moved to hospice care? She passed away last night. I've known this woman since I was five years old. I absolutely cannot wrap my mind around this.

Baruch dayan he'emet

Bad news

I'm still here. I just have bad news.

First, I found an old college friend has Cancer AGAIN. This is the third time he's been diagnosed with it. He has a wife and a baby. I feel absolutely awful for him. He's coming out swinging, but I can't even imagine how shaken he must be.

Then, I found out the mother of one of my oldest friends was undergoing chemo for Pancreatic Cancer, but it didn't work. She was just moved to hospice care this past weekend. I'm in shock.

Any thoughts or prayers would be appreciated for these friends and their families.

From babies to big kids in 2 seconds flat

It's so bizarre how our children grow up and we don't even see it coming. It should be obvious. Growing is what all living things do. It's common sense that our babies are going to grow up. We help them blow out an ever-increasing collection of birthday candles each year. We move them from our beds to their own. We complain when we realize those brand new pants that fit them just two weeks ago are now too short. We smile proudly when they learn to write their name, then sentences then page 200 of their 500 page autobiography.

So, the other night, when my kindergartener fell asleep in my lap, why was I shocked by how big he has become? I remember putting him to the breast for the very first time. I remember smiling at the toothless grin on that little boy who took to nursing so easily. That very first time, when he fell asleep at my breast, he fit in the crook of one arm. When he fell asleep in my lap a few nights ago, he took up half the couch.

In my experience, we see them grow up, but we often don't see them. I watch them grow, so there's rarely a big jump from one age to the next. It's not until I look back at old pictures that I realize how young they looked a year or two (or eight) ago.

My oldest daughters are no longer babies, but I find that particularly difficult to believe. They're the same age I was when I started wearing a bra. A BRA for goodness sakes! Oh. My. Stars! I can't even think about my first babies wearing bras. I swear they're still toddlers. I still think of them that way even though one is now working her way through all the Harry Potter books in record time and the other is plotting ways to start a business to raise money for a laptop.

I don't think anything prepares you for this. Before you have kids, you hear people marveling over how quickly it goes and you think they're just sentimental saps. When your baby hits his/her first birthday, you may marvel at how quickly it has gone or how much they have changed (unless you have preemies. Then, if you're anything like me, when you get to the one year mark, you think, "It's about damn time!"), but even that only gives you a glimpse into how much you will be absolutely shocked by how these children grow and everything they learn.

I wish there was some way to tell mom or dad up yet again, rocking a fussing baby to sleep at 2 am that in a much shorter time then they expect, they'll relish those moments when their baby is 30+ pounds bigger and, in a very rare event, falls asleep sprawled out across mom or dad's lap.

A friend of mine likes to say, "This moment is brief," in regards to parenting troubles. She then adds, "You can take that whatever way you want." Maybe you take that as a comfort that these difficult times will end soon. Maybe it serves as a reminder that all of these moments are far too brief and we'll find ourselves longing for them in the not-too-distant future.

Sometimes Realization Slaps You In the Face

I asked a friend for help in dealing with my mother. Mom is an odd one and even after 30+ years, I still can't figure her out.

That friend directed me here: Symptoms of an Adult Child of an Alcoholic and I am absolutely floored. So many of those fit my mother. My jaw is hanging open. Yes, her father was an alcoholic, but so too was my father's father and my dad is the complete opposite of my mom. My mom doesn't often (really ever) talk about her father (he died from liver cancer decades before I was born), so while we all know he was an alcoholic, the details of her life with him are largely unknown. I never even considered that it would play a part in her personality issues (aka acting like someone out of their ever-lovin' mind).

These are particularly shocking for me (and right on the mark)


8 . When someone gets angry at you, do you shrivel inside?


9 . Does personal criticism make you feel as though you're under attack?


11. When things go badly, do you feel like a victim?

OMG! OMG! Go read this and then reread this little ditty: You Say You Are a Superstar. Get Off the Cross We Need the Wood.

I'm floored! This explains SO much.

Although, I just wish it would explain how in the world I'm supposed to deal with her. If every little criticism is seen as an attack, how in the world am I supposed to ever disagree with her without her hopping on the drama llama?

Much needed good news

I got some bad news last night. I couldn't sleep and was just generally down. I'm still "in a mood" right now.

So I'm trying to rejoice over the little things to counteract that.

Good news:

I stepped on the scale and I'm down another pound and a half. Wah hoo! I'm SO close to my first weight goal. I felt good enough today to put on my regular jeans--not the maternity ones or the stretchy yoga pants I've been wearing, but real jeans that require me to be able to shove myself in AND zip 'em up (unless, of course, I want to leave the zipper open and have my gut hanging out which is OH SO SEXY). I have to wear a billowy top over them, but they close without a problem. Yippee. This morning, while TheBaby napped, I had time to dye my hair AND clean the bathroom. I even had time to blow dry my hair (which I very rarely d0).

The kids are making their own lunches (I love having bigger kids) and later, we're headed out to the park with some friends. It's a local park too. I live pretty far from most of my friends, so I often have to travel to meet everyone. This time, everyone decided to meet at a park just a mile from my house. Yippee!

My wish for the New Year

There are many things I hope 2010 brings those I love. I figured I'd take the opportunity to share them with you all.

In 2010, I hope...

• The stupid people stay far away from you.

• That if a few of those stupid people wander into your path (or if they live in your house, so you have no other choice), I hope you have a really big stick, a great aim and a complete lack of remorse.

• Should you be unable to beat the stupid people senseless, I hope you have the perfect comeback for their stupidity and that, after you slap them with that witty retort, they either change their ways and stop being stupid or they read this and FOLLOW THE FREAKING RULES.

• That your children are absolute angels

• And that if that last one doesn't happen and you're in public, I hope there's enough room to distance yourself from them so that no one realizes they're yours.

• If they disregard that angel part and you're not in public, I hope you have a padded sound-proof room to shove them into until they CALM THE FUCK DOWN.

• You have TWO padded sound-proof rooms so that you have the option of locking yourself in one if need be.

• Someone finds the secret for yummy calorie-free (kosher) alcohol and chocolate.

• Someone perfects that whole, "Beam me up, Scotty" machine.

• You laugh at an endless supply of truly funny lolcats.

• That your kids continue to supply you with an array of funny phrases.

• That when your kids say those funny things, they do so quietly and FAR away from church/shul.

• That the vast majority of your days are wonderful and you have one bad (but not awful) day a month so that you can always truly appreciate those great days.

• Those around you always let you know how awesome you are.

• That you continue to rock on with your bad-ass self.

An RSVP Allergy

I've heard of dairy allergies. I know people allergic to peanuts. My whole freaking family is allergic to Penicillin. Until recently, though, I never knew there exists an allergy to replying. Are people all over the world suffering from this or just people on my guest list?

I recently planned an event and used an online invitation service. It allows people to respond quickly and easily whenever they have a free moment. It provides a link with all the information on the event in the very same place where one can click to confirm or refuse.

I found myself in a mild panic when, just days before the event, the majority of people hadn't even opened the invitation yet and of those who did, very few had replied. I've e-mailed. I've sent reminders. I've sent reminders using social networking sites. I've tried calling. Still, people refuse to RSVP.

I had two people call/message me to say they were coming. Well, thanks, but I really wanted you to reply through the site because it keeps a running tally of kids and adults so I have an exact number. It took more effort to call and send me a message than clicking the link would have taken.

Another person told me face-to-face that she couldn't come, but the site sent a reminder to everyone who hadn't responded. This person than replied to that message and E-MAILED ME to remind me about her conflict. The message she replied to had the link RIGHT THERE where she could have clicked to just mark, "No." It took her longer to reply than to click the link.

I was shocked to find that a number of people who didn't RSVP actually plan on coming. I had assumed they simply couldn't come, so they weren't bothering to reply. Then again, most of them NEVER EVEN LOOKED AT THE INVITATION.

This has made planning the event very difficult. I didn't know who to expect or how many.

Is this common? Are other people experiencing this as well? Have we just forgotten how to RSVP? Are the expectations different in different parts of the country/world?

The Anonymity of Fame

Every once in a while, I start wondering if I could be a little less anonymous. I try hard to keep much of my identifying information to myself. Shhhh, it's a secret from the Blogosphere. I don't post pictures of my kids. I don't reveal names. You won't find our home state anywhere on this blog. I've never mentioned my husband's career or what branch of the military in which he served.

This, however, means that I must go to great lengths to keep my private life and my my little lovenest here in the blogosphere separate. Some days, I just want to tear those walls down and share with folks on both sides.

I think my kids are cute and I'd love to show you some of the adorable pictures I've taken of them over the years. I have video footage of my husband's homecoming that I wish I could post. I'd love to be able to make some videos for vlog posts. Heck, I'd like to be able to come out and say, "Yeah, that's me." I've skipped events for bloggers and twitter meetups because I'm fairly anonymous. I need to be careful so that the twitterverse and my personal life don't mix and that's very difficult to do.

Every once in a while, I go through a phase where I come *this* close to outing myself. Although, usually, when that happens, something smacks me in the face and reminds me exactly why I like my anonymity. My last outing phase came crashing down in flames when Gina at The Feminist Breeder had incidents with a stalker. That creep knew WAY too much about Gina and was harassing her. Well, that stomped all over my desire to let myself be known. Situations like that remind me exactly why I try so hard to keep my information private. On the internets, you just never know. This blog has gotten hits from all over the world. I find that both fascinating and frightening.

I can sense my inner pendulum swinging back the other way, though. I'm, once again, beginning to wonder about sharing more information.

What about you? How much information do you share? Have you ever regretted it? Has being known in the blogosphere ever helped you? Has it created problems?

Make new friends, but keep the old. One is silver and the other gold.

High school football

Originally uploaded by kbooth

Old friends have come barreling into my life lately at full-speed. Have you ever witnessed a high school football team run on to the field charing through paper barriers? Yeah, it's kind of like that.

I absolutely adore social media for this opportunity. I've been able to find people I considered best friends when I was younger. I've been able to find friends from dance class that I knew from the time I was a toddler. I've been able to reconnect with old neighbors who moved away. In some cases, I've been able to make friends of those I only considered acquaintances many years ago.

Just recently, an old friend rode the train of social media right back into my life. I've been searching for her for years with no luck. I always wondered what had become of her. I've wondered and worried. Many of us did. When she went off to college, she simply vanished. We never heard from her again. Now, many years later, I have found her and I'm thrilled. She's doing well, she looks very much like she used to and she has a little boy who shares the same distinctive eyes with his mama.

True, some people you find again only to discover that you've grown apart, but even then, just knowing that they're okay and getting a glimpse into their lives is so exciting and something we never dreamed of years ago. And then, there are those you rediscover and find you can pick up right where you left off.

"When somebody knows you, well, there's no comfort like that."

I'll stop the world and melt with you.

I'm going to post some frivolous things, but before I do, I have to point out that my thoughts, my prayers, and my heart are still with my friend at this awful time. I don't want anyone to think that I'm being flippant by continuing to post about mundane things. That baby has touched my heart and my soul and I will never be the same. She is gone, but will never be forgotten.

I'm trying to be here for my friend as best I can. If I could stop my world to wait for her, I would.

I'm going to resume posting, but not because we're "Moving on." I'm doing it as a distraction.

Moment of silence

A friend of mine has lost a baby. I can't write. I don't feel up to bitching about little trivial things. Instead, I'm taking a moment of silence in honor of her baby.

Please send prayers and good thoughts her way.

Dance of the 7 Veils

Vote for #7. Please please PLEASE. We desperately need this. Our washing machine completely conked out today and the dryer isn't much better. It takes putting things on high 3 times to get them dry. Today, dh had to take out half the small load because it wouldn't start. We have fallen SO far behind in laundry since the baby was born because these bloody machines don't work and we can't afford to replace them.

So PLEASE, go to MomCentral and vote for #7.

Please ask your friends to do the same.

I've been very frank with everyone about our financial situation. We cannot afford to replace these machines, but at the same time, we now have 4 kids, including one in cloth diapers. We need to be able to do the wash.

Please vote for us, pretty pretty please.

March 18th update: THE WASHING MACHINE IS COMPLETELY BROKEN. I have a load in there now. It filled with water and then just stopped. It did that yesterday and we were able to get it to work eventually, but not today. It's filled with towels, diapers, kids' clothes and baby clothes. ARGH!

PLEASE vote for us and ask others to do the same. I'm getting my butt kicked.

We'll Still Be Freakin' Friends

Title is from that song. Yeah, it leaves much to be desired, but I loved Daria.

I must pause to say a huge, "Thank you," to my friends (and those family members I actually like enough to consider friends). My weekend was made when I opened a card that contained a Target gift card from a friend. One friend who has a hell of a lot going on in her life right now made time to not only come to my shower, but to even make a gift. Another friend, who also has a ton going on, stepped in last minute to help plan that shower. Who thought I would get excited over diapers? When I lamented that I wanted to buy a pack of newborn disposable diapers (to get us through the merconium stage), my niece insisted I resist that urge and she sent me a pack and a half that she had left over. A friend of a friend sent me wool diaper covers. I've gotten a lot of emotional support from a select group of friends and I really appreciate that.

So a huge thank you to my real friends out there. I appreciate it more than you know.

I get by with a little help from my friends.

Purim is quickly approaching. This year, it has really taken me by surprise. I have no idea what the kids can dress up as for Purim and I'm desperately in need of costume ideas. I love making costumes, but with the baby on the way, I don't know if I can do much right now.

So I'm particularly thrilled to see this post from A Mother In Israel.

If you have any costume ideas at all (even if you don't, but you need some), head over there and either share the love or be inspired by the comments. And look around whlie you're there because she has some fabulous information on her blog on a wide range of things.

The modesty of painted bellies

Maybe if I wore long skirts and wigs, this wouldn't be a problem. Maybe then my views on modesty would be a bit more obvious.

I am a Jew. I am a traditional Jew. I do not follow Orthodox customs of dress (long skirts and sleeves) nor do I, a married woman, cover my hair. I do, however, believe in Tzniut--modesty. My daughters do not wear bikinis. They will not wear anything that leaves their belly button beared. Generally, the most skin I show are the elbows down to hands. Some O's would have a problem with that, but I don't. It's how I feel comfortable, yet honor the concept of Tzniut.

If I wear a top that's too low cut, I hold it up with safety pins. Yes, I do carry a selection of pins in my bag just for that cause. Now that I'm at that hugely pregnant stage, I often lift my shirt up at home so that I can watch a foot poke out here to the left or see a bum roll when he/she launches off from my ribs. There, with only my immediate family, you will see my stomach in its stretch-mark glory. Well, YOU won't see it because of the rules of Tznuit. My husband and children will, but no one outside our immediate home. When my brother came to visit, I never once bared my belly. When my parents were here, I had no urge to show them. When it comes to friends, I am the same way. My belly is reserved for me, my husband and my immediately family. I am not comfortable with having it on display in any way shape or form nor do I think it's appropriate.

I have a (goy) friend who had henna tatoo done on her stomach during her last pregnancy. It was lovely--just gorgeous and it fit her personality wonderfully. It was not, however, me. It's my understanding that she plans on having that artist do my pregnant belly. I desperately want to avoid that. I very much do not want that to happen. If I say that, though, I risk hurting her feelings (I hear she's been planning this thing for a while). If I go along with it, I will be annoyed with myself. How can I ask Hashem for protection in labor when I just so blatantly ignored not only His laws of Tznuit, but also my own conscience which He gave me?

I'm at a loss and I only have a few hours to figure it out.

EDIT: I called my friend and explained my feelings to her. She suggested we do the art on my hands which is what we did. I was MUCH more comfortable with that and she was thrilled that she got to do it for me.