baby weight

after i had crosby, one of the doctors in the hospital told me that it takes at least six months to get "unpregnant".  here i am 10 months later with 15 pounds still to go.  articles like the one below make me a little less frustrated with the stubborn baby weight.  maybe my new body is simply showing people that i can love like no other.  

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the post is about how the show "up all night", which was created by new mothers, is redefining the way women's bodies are portrayed on television.

here is an excerpt:

"Normal, that’s funny. Like there will ever be a normal again. Like baby weight is a condition you can cure. Christina Applegate’s baby was born over a year ago; by Hollywood’s standards, she should have lost the baby weight 11 months ago. But maybe this isn’t baby weight—maybe it’s the new Christina. A woman whose life has changed and her body has changed to reflect that; she hasn’t simply  “gained weight”…….her body has morphed into a bearer of life."

click the link to read the whole thing. 

http://momfilter.com/talk/losing-the-term-baby-weight

thirty minutes

i saw this on facebook today and had to share.  greatness.

source

me, myself, and i

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in college i gained the freshman fifteen.  which was to be expected, i guess, considering my diet of chick-fil-a, pizza and beer.  then i gained the sophomore fifteen.  did you know that even existed?  me neither.  then there was the junior five.  and the senior pound or two.  it bothered me at the time, but i wasn't willing to give up having the time of my life to get healthy.  eat healthy?  give up booze?  in college?  no thanks.

then i graduated and the ball dropped.  i was expected to be an adult and i had plenty of time away from my college family to evaluate things.  i was a mess, people.  i wasn't happy with my career, my relationships, my weight, and i mourned the carefree life i just left.  after a couple of years of feeling sorry for myself, i was fed up.  i needed a change.  and the only thing i had control of at the time was my weight.  nothing else, or so i thought.  so my roommate and i marched our big butts into weight watchers and lost forty pounds in a matter of months.  it was the first time i took control.  and it felt good.  things started falling in place for me, not because i lost a bunch of weight, but because i was fed up.  i wanted something better for myself, and it just so happened, that on my journey, losing the weight helped me achieve that.  i stress, i do not think that losing weight is the key to happiness.  the key, i think, is wanting something more for yourself and going for it.

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so here i am, a husband, two children, and what feels like a lifetime later, and that forty pounds that disappeared nine years ago is back.  it's gradual reappearance had nagged at me for a while, but not enough to do anything about it.  i. have. been. busy.

what is back is that feeling of restlessness.  i am ready for something new.  this time though it is less about the weight and more about my boys having a momma that values her health.  i am the lone lady in this testosterone fueled house, so the responsibility to teach my boys about women lies squarely on my shoulders.  i want the boys to appreciate women that love and provide for their family, that nurture their friendships, that value their independence, that love the arts, food, travel, that take care of their bodies.  this time around there is more to it than losing some weight, it is about taking better care of their momma.

so i joined a running club (bwahahahahahahaha!)  it is very basic, geared toward beginners, with the end goal being a 5k.  i know this is not that big of a deal.  but for me it is.  i have always said i'll run if i am being chased.  but if i am being totally honest with myself, i am not sure if that is even true.  i would more than likely surrender, sit down and get caught.  haha.  so we shall see!  the first training "run" is tomorrow morning.  i am scared shitless.  this is waaaaay out of my comfort zone. but i need to prove it to myself, and my boys, that i can do it.  or at least try.

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can i get a medal for trying?  that would be awesome.

wish me luck.

8 months old

with my first baby, i was impatient.  i was ready for the next milestone.  i couldn't wait for him to sit up, talk, crawl, walk.  i was so anxious to find out his little personality.

with crosby, i pray for it to slow down.  i don't want him to get big and push my kisses away.  he could stay like this forever and i would be one perfectly happy momma.

 he smiles from the moment he wakes up to the second he goes to bed.  the only time he cries is during the thirty seconds between his baby food and his bottle.  he seems to think we are starving him to death.  as you can tell by the size of his cheeks, we clearly are not.

 he has two teeth with another well on it's way.  he pulls up to his knees and is damn proud of himself when he does.  he is almost crawling.  we are just waiting for that right leg to get with the program.

 he hasn't met a food he doesn't like.  the tongue is always going.  he drools constantly.  he says two words.  both first spoken on the same day: ma-ma-ma-ma-ma (me), and bub-bub-bub (ben).  chris is only a smidge jealous.

i am not bragging or sugar-coating.  this momma is just speaking the truth.  he is perfection.


p.s. i just realized that i already posted the last two pictures on a previous post....he's just so dang cute.

at a loss

could someone please come explain this to my three and a half year old?  because what i am saying isn't working.

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my child is rude.  and no, not in the i-am-shy-so-i-refuse-to-speak kind of way.  rude as in when someone says hello, he screams and covers his face.  when someone asks him a question, he yells no.  he doesn't act that way with everyone.  but he acts that way to my grandmother.  and today to my former co-workers who were being especially kind to him despite his bad attitude.  it embarrasses me.  it makes me anxious.  and it turns me into the kind of mother i don't want to be; the kind who makes excuses for his behavior.  oh, he's hungry. he fell asleep in the car.  he woke up on the wrong side of the bed.  he's three-and-a-half (complete with a knowing glance).  i find myself trying to predict when these outbursts might happen, so that i can preface it with a serious conversation with him about my expectations for his behavior.  by the way, it. doesn't. work.

i can handle sassy.  i can handle an occasional tantrum.  i often find them funny, like the other day when he yelled from time-out that his daddy and i weren't "cool" and that he was going to find new parents in georgia.  but rude?  i can't handle that.

time-out doesn't seem to work.  he could care less about the elf-on-the-shelf, three strikes, losing privileges.

part of me wants someone to tell me this is normal.  but the other part of me doesn't want to accept this behavior as normal because it upsets me so.  do i need advice?  sure.  do i need to commiserate?  you bet.  do i just need to vent?  probably.

my sister-in-law once told me that all of the "half" years were difficult for them and that holds true for our family also.  two-and-a-half made me want to run away to mexico.  and so far, three-and-a-half isn't far behind.

he is the true love of my life, i swear.  sometimes i just need to take a breath and remember that.

commercials make me cry

raising these boys of ours is going to be smelly and loud, but oh-so-fun.

laughter is the best medicine

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i spent all morning watching television, crying my eyes out.  we all know why today is sad.  and if you are anything like me, you are wanting to get your mind off of all the sadness just so your brain can rest for a bit.  

i happen to have the perfect remedy for sad brain.

go read this.  especially if you live with or have ever intimately known a two-year-old (if neither of these apply to you, read it anyway.)  it is hilarious and so, so true.

raising a human being

i feel like i have fallen off of my blog-wagon.  but man, we are struggling a bit around here.  with being three.  with limits.  with being the kind of momma i know i need to be, and feeling like i'm falling a smidge short.  ben has always struggled with change and transition (and here we are smack in the middle of starting a new school, soccer and momma going back to work).  bless his heart, he gets it honestly.  poor kid, the best AND the worst of me are all tangled up in his dna.  so after a looong morning and a nap-time battle of epic proportions, i sat down to browse through pinterest and saw just the reminder i needed.

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i mean, really?

i would love to tell you that the fluorescent orange tint to ben's hands and face was caused by baked or whole-grain cheetos, but that would be a lie.  look at his hands.  i mean, really???

we have been placing utensils in front of him since he moved past the gerber puff stage.  at every meal he is reminded of their purpose as we model, in slow-motion, how to use them properly.  you see, we heard somewhere once that the key to parenting/getting-your-child-to-do-what-you-want is repetition.  mind-numbing repetition.  it worked with potty-training.  but eating like a civilized human being?  fuhgeddaboutit.  he's an animal, i'll tell ya.

last year, i walked into his classroom where a class picnic on the teacher's nice quilt was underway, to find my child slathered in what looked like yogurt while his classmates were delicately plucking goldfish from their snack baggies and placing them directly into their tiny little mouths. his teacher shook her head, laughed and said, "i've never seen anything quite like it." recently, i picked ben up from gymnastics camp (where he eats lunch) to find his entire face smeared with peanut butter.  i hope none of the kids with peanut allergies came near him.  they would've dropped dead.  this morning, he went to the bathroom to wash jelly out of his hair.  there is a film of sticky on every surface of this house.  and you know what sticks to "sticky"? dirt and germs and nastiness.

my dear friend's daughter ate soup.  from a bowl.  with a spoon.  AT AGE TWO!  i mean, really?

am i cut out for this parenting boys business???  say a little prayer, friends.

frat party

you know those blog posts where the blogger recommends articles/products/other blog posts in a long list of links?  i usually skip those.  not because of lack of time, but because of laziness.  that's a lot of clicking!  every once in a while i will click on a link that catches my eye, and very recently i was greatly rewarded for my click.  joanna recommended reading these two blog posts about parenthood, which are hi-lar-ious.  i swear, she must read everything on the internet.

{crazy toddler ben}

the first laugh-out-loud post comes from the blog, suburban snapshots.  the title explains the content.  i have included the whole list, but please click on the title to read the comments.  they are equally funny.

why having a toddler is like being at a frat party:

10. There are half-full, brightly-colored plastic cups on the floor in every room. Three are in the bathtub.

9. There's always that one girl, bawling her eyes out in a corner.

8. It's best not to assume that the person closest to you has any control over their digestive function.

7. You sneak off to the bathroom knowing that as soon as you sit down, someone's going to start banging on the door.

6. Probably 80% of the stains on the furniture contain DNA.

5. You've got someone in your face at 3 a.m. looking for a drink.

4. There's definitely going to be a fight.

3. You're not sure whether anything you're doing is right, you just hope it won't get you arrested.

2. There are crumpled-up underpants  everywhere.

1. You wake up wondering exactly how and when the person in bed with you got there.

see?  funny.

these second comes from the blog, parenting. illustrated with crappy pictures.  (also pointed out on cup of jo)  this one explains crappy laws of parenting.  i have just included one, but if you click on the title, you will see the entire (hilarious) list.

crappy laws of parenting:

Crappy Law of Parenting #6 (naps are never safe)

If you've remembered to turn off your phone ringer during a nap, the doorbell will ring. Followed by loud knocking.  

If you go to the door, it will be someone trying to sell you something you don't want. If you pretend to not be home, you'll find out later it was a friend bringing you chocolate and wine.  She tried to call you, but your ringer was off.

Either way, it wakes up the baby.

i'm off to hug my toddler.  wish me luck, he's not a hugger.