1. Jack and I are going out of town for a few days. I can never sleep the night before a trip because I am so nervous about what I still have to do and what I might forget. I can't shut my brain off. Which is why I'm posting this early in the morning. Because I've been up all night! What else left do I have to do but blog?
2. Alex and I watched Whip It and Up In the Air last night. I really liked both of them, although they were REALLY different. Whip It was A LOT of fun and I highly recommend it if you're looking for something light hearted and funny.
3. Jack is afraid of Gymbo the clown. I'm not really surprised by this. After all, everyone knows that clowns eat people.
4. I really don't have a lot to talk about, but I didn't want to go away for a while and have a post about my flabby stomach be at the top of the page. That seems pretty unappealing.
5. Can we talk about how disappointed American Idol is this season? Because it sucks. BIG TIME. I can't even muster the energy to care anymore. I mean, I'm still rooting for Crystal Bowersox to win it, but I don't even watch the show any more. I just delete it off the DVR, sight unseen. Which is really sad, because Casey James is coming to San Antonio today and I could go see him and be a part of the Idol machine. But I just don't care enough to go.
6. I'm finally starting to feel sleepy. Good thing it's 7:30 and Jack will be up soon.
7. I wonder if the coffee will just make itself? If I just lay here and stare longingly at the kitchen and think caffeinated thoughts, then maybe it'll do it on it's own? I think that should work right. After all, ds;lfkajds;cfl zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz
Friday, May 14, 2010
Tuesday, May 11, 2010
Sap and Crap
I mentioned yesterday that Jack is sleeping in a big boy bed now. I also mentioned that Alex and I are thrilled with this new development. I also kind of lied. Don't get me wrong, I REALLY like the freedom to read in bed again. (Bedtime reading! How I have missed you!) But I also miss the little guy. A whole, whole bunch, actually. I didn't realize how much I checked on him during the night. So last night, I started getting worried that he hadn't cried. WORRIED. That he HAD NOT CRIED. How dumb is that? I was sane enough not to go in there because at least I remembered that a sleeping baby is a happy baby.
So imagine my relief (RELIEF!), when he cried about a half hour later. He sounded like he was getting more and more upset, so I went in to check on him. I found his paci for him and he laid down. I could have left, but you know I didn't. I stayed. STAYED. All night! Totally slept in there and stole glances at him and just relished having his little body next to me.
Honestly, if you had told me when I was pregnant that I was going to be this big of a sap about my kid, I would have called you a liar.
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On the other hand, if you had told me when I was pregnant that my one year postpartum stomach was going to be some kind of strange, lopsided, stretch marked, doughy mess, I would have gone, 'I KNOW! I HATE MY LIFE!' and dissolved into uncontrollable tears.
So yeah. My stomach. I want to talk about my stomach. I realize this is strange and I generally don't talk about my body, particularly on my BLOG, but here's the thing, y'all. My stomach is controlling my life. It's taken over everything. I can't even think about myself without thinking about how much I HATE MY STOMACH, OMG.
Here's the thing. I have lost all the baby weight. I am okay (ish) with the rest of my body. I'm not going to be flaunting my body anytime soon, but I don't feel a need to hide in a turtleneck and long skirt.
Except for my stomach.
It's just so wrong. So, so, so, so, so wrong. Not at all what it used to be. Now it's true, I never had an enviable stomach. It has never been flat and has always been the first place I gain weight. When I got pregnant, my stomach BALLOONED. And obviously it kept getting bigger and bigger and bigger to accommodate the 9 lb 9 oz godzilla baby in my stomach.
But it's been 13 months since I gave birth. And my stomach is not back to where it used to be. It's still too big. And too mushy. And have I mentioned that it's lopsided? Because it's lopsided. My C section scar healed weird. And I don't know why, maybe because part of it exploded two weeks after it happened? All I know is that one side of my stomach, the good side, is more normal looking. But the OTHER side. It's gross. I won't go into the details, but it hangs out and weird and I look like I have a beer belly. And it's not just skin or whatever in there. There's all this nasty scar tissue hanging out in there. None of my old pants fit correctly. Most of my old shirts are too tight in the stomach. And well, I have no idea how to make that go away.
BUT IT IS DRIVING ME CRAZY.
(And I'm refusing to get lipo until I'm for sure done having kids.)
(And I am so totally not kidding about that.)
I spend an inordinate amount of time looking at my stomach and trying to hide it. I'm always worried if it's sticking out. I'm embarrassed to go out. I hate going to the gym in anything that is even slightly tight. I work out obsessively. And it's really not getting any better. It SUCKS.
And I need to stop letting it control me. I need to stop obsessing about it. I know I need to stop talking about it because Alex cannot enjoy hearing me talk about my stomach ALL THE TIME.
So that's why I'm putting it out here. It's no longer a secret. I hate my stomach. Sometimes it looks like I have mom jeans on. I cry occasionally when I remember what I used to look like. I think it's disgusting and I loathe it.
And now you know. And now my stomach knows. It's been put on notice. It doesn't have power over me anymore. I'm more than this. I'm going to stop worrying about this one part of me and focus on all of me. So, shut up, self, and MOVE ON.
So imagine my relief (RELIEF!), when he cried about a half hour later. He sounded like he was getting more and more upset, so I went in to check on him. I found his paci for him and he laid down. I could have left, but you know I didn't. I stayed. STAYED. All night! Totally slept in there and stole glances at him and just relished having his little body next to me.
Honestly, if you had told me when I was pregnant that I was going to be this big of a sap about my kid, I would have called you a liar.
<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><
On the other hand, if you had told me when I was pregnant that my one year postpartum stomach was going to be some kind of strange, lopsided, stretch marked, doughy mess, I would have gone, 'I KNOW! I HATE MY LIFE!' and dissolved into uncontrollable tears.
So yeah. My stomach. I want to talk about my stomach. I realize this is strange and I generally don't talk about my body, particularly on my BLOG, but here's the thing, y'all. My stomach is controlling my life. It's taken over everything. I can't even think about myself without thinking about how much I HATE MY STOMACH, OMG.
Here's the thing. I have lost all the baby weight. I am okay (ish) with the rest of my body. I'm not going to be flaunting my body anytime soon, but I don't feel a need to hide in a turtleneck and long skirt.
Except for my stomach.
It's just so wrong. So, so, so, so, so wrong. Not at all what it used to be. Now it's true, I never had an enviable stomach. It has never been flat and has always been the first place I gain weight. When I got pregnant, my stomach BALLOONED. And obviously it kept getting bigger and bigger and bigger to accommodate the 9 lb 9 oz godzilla baby in my stomach.
But it's been 13 months since I gave birth. And my stomach is not back to where it used to be. It's still too big. And too mushy. And have I mentioned that it's lopsided? Because it's lopsided. My C section scar healed weird. And I don't know why, maybe because part of it exploded two weeks after it happened? All I know is that one side of my stomach, the good side, is more normal looking. But the OTHER side. It's gross. I won't go into the details, but it hangs out and weird and I look like I have a beer belly. And it's not just skin or whatever in there. There's all this nasty scar tissue hanging out in there. None of my old pants fit correctly. Most of my old shirts are too tight in the stomach. And well, I have no idea how to make that go away.
BUT IT IS DRIVING ME CRAZY.
(And I'm refusing to get lipo until I'm for sure done having kids.)
(And I am so totally not kidding about that.)
I spend an inordinate amount of time looking at my stomach and trying to hide it. I'm always worried if it's sticking out. I'm embarrassed to go out. I hate going to the gym in anything that is even slightly tight. I work out obsessively. And it's really not getting any better. It SUCKS.
And I need to stop letting it control me. I need to stop obsessing about it. I know I need to stop talking about it because Alex cannot enjoy hearing me talk about my stomach ALL THE TIME.
So that's why I'm putting it out here. It's no longer a secret. I hate my stomach. Sometimes it looks like I have mom jeans on. I cry occasionally when I remember what I used to look like. I think it's disgusting and I loathe it.
And now you know. And now my stomach knows. It's been put on notice. It doesn't have power over me anymore. I'm more than this. I'm going to stop worrying about this one part of me and focus on all of me. So, shut up, self, and MOVE ON.
Monday, May 10, 2010
Mother's Day and that kid I talk about a lot
I was sick this weekend so that put a damper on Alex's grand Mother's Day celebration plans. We were supposed to eat brunch at my favorite local place and then go clothes shopping for me. Wherever I wanted! Spend whatever I wanted! So fun! (Fun for me only. It is definitely a sacrifice for Alex as he has to wrangle a squirmy one year old who DOES NOT WANT TO SIT! NO, NO, NO!)
Instead, I was woken up by said squirmy one year old busting into our bedroom around 10. Alex was washing the dishes and Jack wandered away. The door to our bedroom doesn't latch properly, so he knows that if he can hit it hard enough, he can get in. And since I had been bed ridden since Friday afternoon, he knew EXACTLY where I was. Alex apologized for the decidedly non exciting way to wake up, but it was okay. I mean, it WAS Mother's Day and who better to wake me up than the reason I am a mother?
Anyways, I didn't feel like eating much or doing much, but I did get a smoothie (A rare treat since Smoothie King things you should pay 7 bucks for a smoothie. Uh, no.) and a trip to the library to pick up the latest book in the latest dumb YA series I'm reading. I stayed in bed for most of the rest of the day and finished that book. (And now I am DYING for the next one to come out and it's not until October. October!) I started feeling better right at the end of the day and Alex got me Rudy's for dinner. Alex also did all the parenting stuff all weekend and kept the house cleaned and did the dishes. I was so glad he was able to do everything. It made the crappy weekend a little bit better. So really, all in all, it was a great Mother's Day considering I felt like crap for most of it.
So far, my Mother's Days haven't been too traditional. Last year, we were traveling 8+ hours from Memphis and this year I was sick. Maybe next year we'll have a more normal day? Somehow, I doubt that.
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In other news, I really need to stop calling Jack a baby. Why, you ask? Well! I will be happy to tell you!
1. He sleeps in a big boy bed (sorta). Jack hated his crib. HATED it. I mean HATE, HATE, HATE, HAAAAATED it. With the fiery passion of a thousand suns hated it. It was a lost cause to try and get him to even sit in it for longer than 5 seconds because he started wailing the second you lifted him over the rails. So we converted his crib to a toddler bed last week. And while he still isn't IN LOVE with it (maybe it's the mattress?), he LOOOOOOOOVES the freedom of getting in and out of the bed himself. And we LOOOOOOOOOOOVE the freedom of having our bedroom back to ourselves. We have a complicated system of a twin mattress, my pregnancy pillow (Snoogle!), plus more pillows and blankets on the floor to keep him from rolling onto the floor and hurting himself. He often winds up falling asleep on the twin mattress, but WHATEVER. He's in his room and in a bed that is NOT MINE.
2. He no longer uses any bottles. None. Nada. All gone. He actually transitioned REALLY well to the sippy cup. He probably would have dropped them on his birthday without even noticing. But I was nervous about it and kept putting it off. But then we went cold turkey this past week and of course, he had no problems with it. So I felt like a moron for not doing it earlier. I seriously don't even think he misses the bottles. He still likes his milk heated, but whatever. Hooray for no more bottle washing! (Also, he STILL will not use a cup with a hard spout. He will only use these. And I just read a bunch of negative reviews of them and now feel oddly defensive. Because seriously, those are THE ONLY ONES he will use. And believe me, we have A LOT OF SIPPY CUPS.)
3. He says "Uh-oh!" He just started this today. Mostly because I was singing it around the house and he started repeating me. But it's so totally the cutest thing in the entire world. I don't think that counts as his first word though. I mean, he doesn't say it when he's supposed to. And it's UH-OH. Not something cute and awesome like BALL or DOG or THANK YOU (my first word) or something. So we're still waiting on that milestone. However, I'll take "uh-oh" for now.
Instead, I was woken up by said squirmy one year old busting into our bedroom around 10. Alex was washing the dishes and Jack wandered away. The door to our bedroom doesn't latch properly, so he knows that if he can hit it hard enough, he can get in. And since I had been bed ridden since Friday afternoon, he knew EXACTLY where I was. Alex apologized for the decidedly non exciting way to wake up, but it was okay. I mean, it WAS Mother's Day and who better to wake me up than the reason I am a mother?
Anyways, I didn't feel like eating much or doing much, but I did get a smoothie (A rare treat since Smoothie King things you should pay 7 bucks for a smoothie. Uh, no.) and a trip to the library to pick up the latest book in the latest dumb YA series I'm reading. I stayed in bed for most of the rest of the day and finished that book. (And now I am DYING for the next one to come out and it's not until October. October!) I started feeling better right at the end of the day and Alex got me Rudy's for dinner. Alex also did all the parenting stuff all weekend and kept the house cleaned and did the dishes. I was so glad he was able to do everything. It made the crappy weekend a little bit better. So really, all in all, it was a great Mother's Day considering I felt like crap for most of it.
So far, my Mother's Days haven't been too traditional. Last year, we were traveling 8+ hours from Memphis and this year I was sick. Maybe next year we'll have a more normal day? Somehow, I doubt that.
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In other news, I really need to stop calling Jack a baby. Why, you ask? Well! I will be happy to tell you!
1. He sleeps in a big boy bed (sorta). Jack hated his crib. HATED it. I mean HATE, HATE, HATE, HAAAAATED it. With the fiery passion of a thousand suns hated it. It was a lost cause to try and get him to even sit in it for longer than 5 seconds because he started wailing the second you lifted him over the rails. So we converted his crib to a toddler bed last week. And while he still isn't IN LOVE with it (maybe it's the mattress?), he LOOOOOOOOVES the freedom of getting in and out of the bed himself. And we LOOOOOOOOOOOVE the freedom of having our bedroom back to ourselves. We have a complicated system of a twin mattress, my pregnancy pillow (Snoogle!), plus more pillows and blankets on the floor to keep him from rolling onto the floor and hurting himself. He often winds up falling asleep on the twin mattress, but WHATEVER. He's in his room and in a bed that is NOT MINE.
2. He no longer uses any bottles. None. Nada. All gone. He actually transitioned REALLY well to the sippy cup. He probably would have dropped them on his birthday without even noticing. But I was nervous about it and kept putting it off. But then we went cold turkey this past week and of course, he had no problems with it. So I felt like a moron for not doing it earlier. I seriously don't even think he misses the bottles. He still likes his milk heated, but whatever. Hooray for no more bottle washing! (Also, he STILL will not use a cup with a hard spout. He will only use these. And I just read a bunch of negative reviews of them and now feel oddly defensive. Because seriously, those are THE ONLY ONES he will use. And believe me, we have A LOT OF SIPPY CUPS.)
3. He says "Uh-oh!" He just started this today. Mostly because I was singing it around the house and he started repeating me. But it's so totally the cutest thing in the entire world. I don't think that counts as his first word though. I mean, he doesn't say it when he's supposed to. And it's UH-OH. Not something cute and awesome like BALL or DOG or THANK YOU (my first word) or something. So we're still waiting on that milestone. However, I'll take "uh-oh" for now.
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