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One funny lady gets pregnant . . . with a LOT more material.

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Katherine Williams

Why I haven’t written in a while.

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img_4186I’ve wanted to write the perfect post. About how my birth plan went to absolute shit. About being induced without warning and having a C section at the final hour. About how supremely terrified I was on our first night home with our daughter. About how truly awful those first eight weeks were. About how my life has forever changed.

But perfect is a ridiculous concept these days. I’d settle for mediocre. I feel quite mediocre. I’m still 15 pounds away from where I want to be, with the bulk of my muscle tone, after almost three years of lifting weights, gone. My maternity clothes are too big but my regular clothes are, well, it’s a 50/50 shot if they’ll fit or not. Suffice it to say, my regular clothes are working quite hard. I went back to work last week after twelve weeks of maternity leave. I used to work 50-60 hour weeks, often working on weekends. Those days are long gone. I have to cram as much focused, productive, streamlined work into the usual 9 – 5:30pm work day. I haven’t even gotten to the gym yet – and will I be able to rationalize an hour and a half in the middle of the day when I’m leaving comparatively early to what I used to do? I think I’m doing extremely good work in those hours – but the volume is substantially decreased.

And comedy. I’ve been on stage twice since I’ve had my daughter. How will I fold stand-up back into my life? I have ideas. A handful of shitty premises. It’s a start.

I’m forgetful and even when reminded, it’s often as though I’m hearing the information at hand for the first time, like a constant blackout drunk.  Friends text me and check on me. I’m not sure I always ask how they are doing.

Here’s what’s not mediocre. Not even a little bit.

That angry baby up there? She’s also this goofy, precious, beautiful wonder who farts all the time.

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I love her so much that it hurts.  All of her firsts. I cried the first time she truly giggled (in response to me singing, in my godawful singing voice, the Doors’ “Hello, I Love You.”) These days, she sleeps through the night and wakes up smiling.  And my husband? My kind, loving, thoughtful, silly husband is a great dad. He’s a natural. I watch him with our daughter and it’s almost as though he was always a dad waiting to happen. People say that Layla is special. Calm, laid-back, happy – and that that’s because of us. Our days are chaotic and short and far too quick. But life is good. Life is great. And decidedly not mediocre.

Baby Brunch!

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_MG_6819This past Saturday, my sister and her daughter, my in-laws, and my sister-in-law’s family threw Steve and me a lovely brunch (for many reasons – not the least of which was my mom’s absence – the traditional all-female at-home baby shower didn’t make sense for us)  at 44 1/2 in Hells Kitchen. Almost all of Steve’s family attended, as well as my dad, my sister and niece and around 20 of our closest friends. It was such a lovely event.  Below please find some of our favorite moments and details from the day. Because I don’t like to assume that folks are comfortable with pictures of themselves or their children on the internet, I’ve focused on including elements here while respecting folks’ privacy. Thank you so much to our families and friends for their generosity and helping us prepare for this huge milestone!

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This picture has been in my family for more than 45 years! My mom painted it before my brother was born. It was in each of our nurseries and then in each of my siblings’ babies’ nurseries and it is now hanging in our bedroom (until we move and our little girl has a room of her own). My sister has reframed it, preserved it, and kept it in safe keeping. Thanks, Sista!

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Goodbye for now, pretty bras.

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FullSizeRender-4 In an effort to make some space in our one-bedroom apartment before our little lady arrives, the husband has been researching storage facilities. We loathe throwing money away like that so, after sleeping upon it, I did yet another purge of our apartment. We schlepped a few bags down to Salvation Army (again) and I took everything out of my dresser. If I couldn’t wear a given item RIGHT NOW, it went into one of two suitcases I store in our closet. Sadly, that included my favorite bras but mission accomplished. I now had a ton of space for maternity clothes as well as the various maternity-friendly gear I can wear post-baby.

To be honest, it’s not super easy feeling sexy right now. Feminine, yes, but more like the way a female cow is feminine. I had a leftover Victoria’s Secret gift card from my bachelorette party and bought some new thongs (yep, I still wear them through pregnancy, they naturally ride low and are thus super comfy) and a couple of sassy black bras in my new size (34DD) and added them to my rather basic maternity lingerie collection. It’s not much but it’s something.

Friday Funny: On Being Pregnant by Raquel D’Apice

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My friend and fellow stand-up comic Raquel D’Apice is currently pregnant with her second child and wrote this piece about pregnancy that captures so many feelings that I have right now: how much I loathe being pregnant sometimes while feeling guilty because some women would love to be pregnant and cannot. My daughter’s movements sometimes feel more like an alien’s jerky demands than sweet reminders of the magical female body and the tiny person my husband and I have created. And so many other things.

Read the piece. Follow her on the social medias. You’ll be glad you did.

 

Happy Anniversary, buddy!

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Photo: Pittelli Photography

Technically, our anniversary is Tuesday, 4/12; however, Steve left for a business trip yesterday so we celebrated Saturday night. I love Eataly and had been meaning to go there with Steve for years. He remembered and off we went.

Before I get to a few food snaps, I have to say the following:

Steve is wonderful.  He is everlastingly patient with me when I have almost no patience these days. He sings silly songs (on key, no less) and changes the words so that they’re about me. When I have insomnia, he says “Make your brain stop moving. Dream of cheese.”  He has organically, generously taken on the role of planner of all travel and logistics in our marriage, resulting in fantastic trips to South Africa, Costa Rica, Montreal, New Orleans, Portland, Arizona. He makes my life – and our shared life – easier and more fun in so many ways.  And to top it all off, his shoulders. Man, his shoulders.

In one year, we’ve had a wedding, a honeymoon, a move (Steve’s into my/ now our apartment), two pregnancies, one miscarriage, a co-headlining show, a job change (his), and a  babymoon. As soon as I get a drink in my hand again (August, maybe?), I will toast him and our many adventures.

Until then, some shots from Eataly:

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I was running late and when I walked in, Steve had this magical cheese array waiting  for me. “I know you a little,” he said.

Once Steve suggested we go to Eataly, I immediately began dreaming of their pasta with cacio and pepe. So simple so wonderful.

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Oh, I mixed this up nice and good. Don’t you worry.

Steve had the lasagna. He gave me a bite. Also delightful.

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And then we had gelato. But there was no time for pictures then. One must destroy one’s gelato immediately, which is what we did. We each had one scoop of tiramisu gelato and one scoop of salted caramel. A wonderful anniversary meal.

Friday Funny.

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I was having an especially crappy morning, the type of morning during which if some well-meaning coworker had wished me a Happy Friday, I would’ve stuck a fork in their eye. I now have to go fully horizontal on my bed to put my tights on that cover my maternity Spanx shorts. The one, and perhaps only, reason I am grateful to be delivering in late July is that my days of tights are almost ever. When I got to work, cranky and tired and my sinuses hurting, my patient husband sent me this image. Thanks, buddy!

Book Review: Design Your Life by Rachel Roy

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Rachel Roy cover I tore into this book (Kindle app on my iPhone) one night and devoured it in two sittings. I’d seen Rachel Roy as a guest judge on Project Runway several times and her poise and cool really struck me. She always seemed confident, unflappable and calm. Her book is so many things: 1. a lovely illustration of how that beautiful yet badass persona came to be, 2. a concise clothing/accessory guide of staples every woman should own, and  3. a collection of suggestions on how to approach your day and how to present yourself with peace and gratitude.

When I initially became pregnant, I could still get away with a sweater and a pair of slacks for the office. Tops and bottoms. I could do it.  Then it became clear that I would need, at least, a totally new work wardrobe. On the weekends, leggings, boots and an ex-boyfriend’s button-down would do but for Monday through Friday, I would need some serious help.   I began to truly pay attention to how I presented myself and invested some time and money in looking nice. I purchased dresses and separates from MM.LaFleur, Isabella Oliver, and Macy’s. I bought a few statement necklaces and earrings from BaubleBar. I suddenly had a sharp blazer, a few wonderfully soft knit cardigans and clothes that fit me.

For better or for worse, people judge us based on our appearances. That much is nothing new.  There were times in my life, my teenage years and college, most notably, when I rejected this fact. I cared about being thin and wearing make-up but clothes were my decision, f*ck you very much. Nowadays, I put forth a more significant effort. Age and my career demand as much but I always want to do more. Roy also suggests that how we present ourselves is also a gift we give to others. This blew my mind but it totally makes sense. You dress up for your lover, your child or your officemates.  It’s showing respect for the other people in your life.

A few of my favorite takeaways: start your day with a thought of five things you’re grateful for and reflect upon how you can give to others. Approach dressing as a peaceful ritual as opposed to a harried chore. The first day I tried these things,  people responded to me very differently. Now if I can just be consistent!

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