A Very Genuine and Possibly Genius Pregnancy Advice Column

Dear Nan,
How do I survive my first trimester of pregnancy when even brushing my teeth feels impossible?
Signed,
Nauseous in Nisqually

Dear Nauseous,

Luckily for you, navigating the first trimester of pregnancy with style and grace is something I happen to do naturally. Lesser women may just want to lie down on the couch, eat applesauce with a wooden spoon, and pass gas. But not me. Time is a gift. I use every moment to maximize my potential and work toward becoming my best self.

How? You are probably wondering. Well, let's try a little "day in the life of..." because elegance is learned, my friend.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Wake up to toddler sitting on your chest. Nod in agreement when he tells you that "it's a great day, the moon is gone, and it's time to wake up." Fall back asleep.

At some point shuffle to kitchen in sister's ex-boyfriend's sweats. (Thank you Brandon, you can have them back when I'm dead.) Eat yogurt. Make vomit-like noises/gaggy face but don't actually vomit because that would be a sweet release from the pain of never-ending nausea, and you are a Spartan warrior. Pain is what keeps you alive.

Watch online videos of stray dog rescues. Cry. Watch online videos of children with cancer singing uplifting songs. Cry harder. Watch online video of that guy's proposal where everybody dances in unison to a song about love. Lie down on the floor and weep. Become angry that you married the kind of guy that will never participate in song and dance numbers. Imagine leaving him for a man that dances. Stop crying when you realize that you don't want to be married to yourself. If you're both singing and dancing, who's the damn audience? You need an audience.

Get off the floor and get a hold of yourself. You're a mother. Your toddler would like his unborn sibling to revoke his mommy's passport to crazy town. Laugh a little when you imagine a tiny little fetus stamping passports.

Think of games to engage your toddler while you burp up prenatal vitamins.

"Doctor"
-Toddler: Use fine motor skills to manipulate a variety of pretend doctor tools. Use language and social skills to give mommy a pretend check-up. Wear hilarious plastic spectacles that come with doctor kit. Sing "Old MacDonald" while checking patient's temperature because that's what mommy does. Basically, be adorable.
-Mommy: Comatose patient (i.e. lie down on the floor).

"Swim Lessons"
-Toddler: Use gross motor skills to leap off of toddler bed onto mattress on floor. Continue to use large muscle groups while pretending to swim in the "pool" (mattress). Shriek, "I'm swimming like a shark! I'm at swim lessons!" Ask for your life jacket because your mother has convinced you that flotation devices are necessary for all bodies of water, including puddles, or even imaginary pools.
-Mommy: Dead man's float (i.e. lie down on the mattress).

"Dance Party"
-Toddler: Absolutely rock out to favorite jams (Lion King soundtrack, Caspar Babypants, and Michael Franti, which is another story altogether). Use spoons to play percussion on the kitchen floor, play "guitar" with a pillow, kick your feet, and do three-legged dog yoga poses.
-Mommy: Do "The Worm" without moving arms or legs (i.e. lie down on the area rug).

Pat yourself on the back for being a great mother. Now take a nap. You've earned it, sister.

So, Nauseous in Nisqually, as you can see, balancing your home life while a fetus the size of a peanut sucks the very marrow from your bones (metaphorically speaking, of course, I don't think that actually happens, but it might... maybe ask your OB at your next appointment to be sure, you might need marrow supplements or something) is a delicate, but definitely doable dance.

Best wishes,
Nan