What Would Emily Post Do?

I am a big fan of Emily Post. A few years ago, I was thrilled when my boss and dear friend, Shannon, gifted me a copy of Emily Post’s Book of Etiquette. I love thank you notes. I love stationery. I really love grammar. While I am obviously very candid, I enjoy the idea of being appropriate when being appropriate is appropriate.

When it comes to what is or isn’t apropos, I find people are fairly hard and fast on their opinions. And, of course, pregnancy is no exception. I’ve been questioned on several of my choices while toting a tot. Not all inquiries have been in judgment but rather curiosity. I suppose, my mid-wife has always been pro-moderation when it comes to most matters and thus, so have I. What rules do you follow fastidiously and which do you throw out with the bath water {that is, if you take baths while the babe is in your belly}…

1) Lunch meat/ Hot Dogs

Please, someone point me to anyone you know who battled Listeriosis, while pregnant, in the last 5 years. Seriously. And, I’m not just baiting you. If you know someone who has truly dealt with this issue, I’d love to hear about it. It’s not as if I eat lunch meat that was found on the floor of a butcher shop. Or as if I nosh on it daily. But I do get a hankering every once and awhile and I satisfy said craving with a savory sandwich. I can’t recall the last time I downed a dog but you can bet if I really wanted one, I’d likely indulge.

2) Coloring My Hair

My mom never let us color our hair in high school. I first dyed it on my own in college, from a box, post a freshman year breakup. It was a golden/orangish hue that even Heidi Klum couldn’t make look good. I went to a stylist to get it fixed and have been coloring it ever since. I now get it done every 10 weeks or so. I got it done every 5 with Snowball. Though Barrett is really blonde, I don’t think the dye has had any impact on him.

3) Soft Cheese

Again, it’s not as if I sit around scarfing down Brie but I did have soft cheese once or twice while I was schlepping Snowball. It’s all about pasteurization. And most cheeses available in the

U.S.

are pasteurized. As Barrett popped out sans utters or goat horns, I think we outsmarted the soft cheeses on that round.

4) Caffeine

When I got pregnant with Barrett, I drastically cut down my caffeine intake. Prior to producing our little peanut, I was throwing back anywhere from 6 to 8 sodas a day. I know. It’s terrible to admit. During gestation, I generally drink 1 caffeinated beverage a day. When Barrett was first born, he was really jittery. His little fingers and hands would shake. I thought for a short while that perhaps it was the caffeine kicking in. Then I remembered he was a preemie and preemies {and apparently all babes} are subject to twitches and tremors. Now, if Grin has tremors sans being a pre-prime peanut, I suppose I might be a little more jolted.

5) Wine

I remember when I was pregnant with Barrett I had my first nip of wine with Thanksgiving dinner. It was the best wine I’ve ever had. To date. I felt it in my toes. It’s not as if I’ve bellied up to the bar or that I’ve sipped on any spirits but after one time around the baby-bearing block, my opinions on wining while priming have considerably changed. Apparently my mother had one very festive night while my sister was a fetus … and she was valedictorian and graduated college with a 4.0. This is not to say that I think drinking makes your sweetie smarter, just that I’m not sure how drinking once a trimester can really mess with little Grin.

I’m not entirely dogmatic. I of course draw the line at smoking and drugging. Let’s be real. There’s lots of evidence that both of these lead to no-good-very-bad-days.

My general gest when people ask “Do you {insert action here} during pregnancy?” and it is something I do is “I do. And Barrett turned out great. Except for that whole early birth and his fingers being stuck together at first. But I doubt {inserted action} had very little to do with those things”. I am sure some people think I’m heinous and others feel uncomfortable with my jokes. But, if you can’t even make jokes when you’re gestating than that is taking it too far.

So, if Emily Post were a preggo reggo, what would she do?