Showing posts with label This here life of mine. Show all posts
Showing posts with label This here life of mine. Show all posts

Monday, September 10, 2012

Like clockwork

This is the clock that sits on my bedside table:


Last week, Little G was snuggling with me in bed before we had to get up for the day (he finally, after a YEAR of sleeping in his big boy bed in his big boy bedroom will get up in the morning and leave his bedroom all by himself instead of calling for us to get him).  Snuggling, of course, is actually defined as rolling all over me in bed with elbows and feet flailing all over the place.

So it happened that while we were 'snuggling' my clock got knocked off the bedside table.  I picked it up and though it didn't LOOK broken, it did seem to have something rather large knocked loose and clunking around in it.

Since then it has only told the correct time twice a day, in other words, it stopped working.

So tonight, as I was getting into bed, I decided to rid myself of the broken clock and hauled it over to our bedroom trashcan.  As I was depositing the clock, my husband said, "Let me see that."  I reminded him that it was broken and he asked me if he could open it up.  I rolled my eyes and said I didn't think there was a way to get inside as I proceeded to try to wedge the back open.

He reached out his hand to me from bed and said, "may I look at it?"  I sighed, begrudgingly, and handed him the clock and got into bed fully expecting him to realize how right I was about how you couldn't even get into the back of this clock to even SEE what was wrong, no less fix it.

Yeah, in less than 30 seconds he had unscrewed the two very obvious finger screws on the back panel, opened up the clock, replaced the AA battery that had been knocking about (clumsily) on the inside, closed the casing and reset the clock.

I've clearly given up and stepped of the technology train.

Thursday, September 06, 2012

I pronounce you: mother-of-the-year...




...and YOU mother-of-the-year and YOU mother-of-the year and you and you and YOU!!

To all you new-to-pre-school mamas who are in the throes of 1st-day-at-school activites...I just want to take a moment to send a quick note of encouragement that as long as you all made it out the door today, you did an awesome job!  And even if you didn't you STILL did an awesome job!

Today is our second day of taking Little G to school and then dropping off the Ladybug with our nanny at the neighbors' house.  Two days ago, we visited Little G's school for open house and got our name tags (they wear them for the first week) and the tag for our car (to identify us at pick-up) and our school bag (everyone has the same one) and we dropped off Little G's indoor shoes and blanket and sheet and pillow all with the appropriate name tags neatly applied to tags.

So yesterday morning when I pulled up to drop off Little G and the director of the whole school (whom I shall nickname: School Director Barney) got Little G out of the car, I was able to say that all of his things were already inside with their name tags on and I won't like, I felt a little bit smug about the whole thing.  So of course, as what always happens when I'm feeling smug, I end up falling flat on my face.  Case in point: yesterday was a half day and I thought it ended at noon but it ended at 11:30 so there I was, on Little G's first day of the school where he will be for the next 10 years, picking him up late by a half an hour!! So much for smug.

Then, this morning, I once again got us all packed up and out of the house (I have to pack all of the Ladybug's stuff too since we go straight to the nanny share) and got to the car and I realized that somehow, the name tags that I thought I had been so smart to keep in the car, had gone missing! (In my defense, I tossed them during a quickie clean-up-the-car tirade once I realized that every crumb and schrapnel of granola bar wrapper was now visible to anyone who got Little G in and out of the car)   So I ran inside and made a new one (not a huge deal [for me since I had the supplies on hand], just a white stick-on name tag).  Then I got all the way to school and realized that we hadn't grabbed Little G's bag on the way out the door!  Blerg.

All of this to say that once again, School Director Barney was the one to get Little G out of the car and I said, "well, mother-of-the-year over here seems to have forgotten his bag today" and he didn't miss a beat.  He smiled totally genuinely at me and said, "even mother's-of-the-year forget bags".

Which is totally true.

So, to all you mamas out there who got out the door today, no matter what you did or didn't forget, as long as everyone got to school safely - I now pronounce* you: "mother-of-the-year", today and EVERY day!!

*ok...I'm not actually sure I have the authority to make proclamations...but I can totally send out encouragement and maybe even deem things

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Update: I've since sent Little G in with reusable ice cubes in an old baby bottle cooler to keep his yogurt cool in his lunch bag...only to realize too late they they're shaped like margarita glasses.


Yeah...I'm gaining quite the reputation there.

Wednesday, September 05, 2012

First days

After a fantastic summer and an amazing two weeks between the end of camps and school starting, we have begun some big transitions around here.  Namely, Little G started school yesterday and today (yesterday was a 45 minute open house where I went in with him and we met his guide [teacher] and brought in our extra clothes and nap items, etc. and found our hook/cubby - today and tomorrow are half days and Friday is a full day).

The Ladybug is going through a big transition as well.  We are participating in a nanny share with our good friends (who happen to be our neighbors) who's son (who I will nickname "Blue Eyes") is four months older than the Ladybug.   While the nanny has spent some time in the afternoons with the Ladybug, yesterday was her first day spending 6 hours at our neighbor's house with the nanny and Blue Eyes.

Today was the first day we all had to get out of the house to go to school.  My husband, bless his amazing heart, gets up and is out of our house by 6:18am so that he can be home by 6:00pm.  This means that the morning routine has always been my responsibility (except on the weekends...oh the glorious weekends when I get to totally sleep in because my aforementioned awesome husband wakes up with our children and lets me sleep.  Dear God, I love him!!)

Anyway, since this is only day 1 (or 2 depending on how you look at it) of transition for everyone, I braced myself for challenge.  It wasn't too bad, but I thought you'd get a kick out of the email I sent to my husband detailing our morning (note: I don't normally send anything this detailed about our mornings, in fact by the time we actually get to communicate on a daily basis, other than me grunting at him from the bed as he sneaks off to work before the sun has risen, I've already forgotten the morning and moved on with my life):

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

Ladybug woke up just as you walked out the door, so 6:19ish? (I would know but Little G knocked over my clock yesterday at 6:37am and now it only tells the correct time twice a day)

Fed Ladybug and snuggled a bit in rocking chair.

Took Ladybug to our room and let her play while I got dressed.

Took Ladybug to her room to get her dressed and Little G got up and walked out of his room.  It was approx 6:55.

Suggested to Little G that we go downstairs and have breakfast and then watch Mr Rogers to which he suggested we watch Mr Rogers and then have breakfast. Upon my not agreeing with that suggestion the wailing started.  Then he semi-agreed with me but wanted to watch Cars.  I suggest we watch Cars when he gets home from school instead of quiet time (stupid. stupid. stupid.) Of course, he agrees.

7:00, we are downstairs and I finally get him to agree that we will have breakfast first, then TV.  I suggest I am making pancakes for Ladybug [I make large batches of Whole Wheat Oatmeal Pancakes and freeze them so I can pull them out and microwave them quickly for breakfasts], would he want one. He says "no".  I suggest pancakes and/or a banana or yogurt or toast or cereal to which he replies, he wants oatmeal.

Start to make oatmeal at 7:05.

7:12, still making oatmeal, Little G is now insisting that we watch Cars after breakfast.

7:18 I have extra pancake for Little G (because I never expected him to refuse it) and 1/2 banana.  I suggest he start eating that so when oatmeal is ready, he can eat that with enough time to watch Mr Rogers.

7:19 He has major fit because he wanted oatmeal

7:22 he FINALLY realizes I AM making him oatmeal

7:25 I realize oatmeal isn't going to be cool enough to eat until at least 7:45, Mr Rogers is a 30 minute program and we need to head out to the car at 8:05

7:29 I turn on TV and tell Little G we're doing something special today that we won't be doing tomorrow: we will turn on Mr Rogers and I will bring over his table and chair and he can eat his breakfast while he watches

7:32 (seriously, it takes 3 minutes to turn on TV and get to Amazon Prime option and start streaming) Little G finally starts watching Mr Rogers!!

7:35 I get Little G dressed while he watches Mr Rogers

7:40 I put food on his little table and remind him we have to eat our breakfast because when Mr Rogers is over we have to leave for school

I clean up the Ladybug (who's been eating a banana and a pancake all this time) and put her on the floor and pour my coffee

7:45 I redirect the Ladybug from living room since she's obsessed with pushing and pulling Little G's table away from him

8:01 Mr Rogers is over - Little G is not done eating and has made that very clear to me.  I play it cool and suggest that he let me know when he's ready to put his rain boots on

8:05 We're heading out the door into torrential rain...I am very thankful for forgetting to move car out back.

8:07 Torrential rain has stopped for enough time for me to snap a first-day-of-school picture

8:08 We're on our way to school - the radio czar has declared no music allowed

At some point (stopped caring about time as long as I made it between 8:20 and 8:40) I drop off Little G at school.  The director of the school comes out to meet us [drop off is defined as "rolling" in that all I have to do is pull up the car and someone comes and gets Little G out of the car] .  I quickly realize just how dirty the back of the car is.  Eep.

I leave school drop off and discover new, faster, less scary way home (i.e. no needing to have to wait in line while people try to turn left twice where people don't use their blinkers at two consecutive weird intersections)

8:28 - The Ladybug starts crying because she is exhausted - we are at least 10 minutes away from home.

8:35 - I call the nanny as the Ladybug stops crying.  I leave message to see if it is ok to bring Ladybug straight over and put her down for nap - I mention I will call one of Blue Eyes's mommies to confirm if this is ok even though she requested that we not show up until 9 the first two weeks [Blue Eyes is our neighbor's first child and has been home with his mommies for 14 months, so he's going to have a much harder transition to nanny than we are, thus we have agreed to let him be with the nanny exclusively for the first hour of the day]

8:36 - I call our neighbor and leave message to see if it is ok with her

8:41 - I pull up in front of house and the nanny calls and says it is fine with her; I let her know that I haven't heard back from our neighbor, so I will take the Ladybug inside and nap her here and bring her over when she wakes up

8:45 - I feed the Ladybug 5 oz of milk and she falls asleep immediately - phone rings while I am feeding her and our neighbor leaves message

8:50 - I check message from our neighbor who says it is fine to bring over the Ladybug so I send her a text telling her I brought her here to our house

8:45 - 10:40 - the Ladybug is STILL SLEEPING!!!
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So yeah...busy morning.  And I have to turn around in less than an hour and go get Little G since today's only a 1/2 day!

I'm not sure I would have ever been able to wrap my mind around the logistics of getting out of the house in the morning with a preschooler and 10 month old back when Little G was just a baby.

Thankfully, like most endurance challenges, I've been working up to this for three years.

Saturday, August 11, 2012

Let's start at the very beginning...

Today, believe it or not, is my blogging anniversary.  My guess is, you have read the first post on this blog, as it is prominently linked to over in my profile.  That post was written in September of 2008, so my four year anniversary of this blog is coming up.  But prior to this blog, I blogged at a now defunct space that I visit every so often to see who I was back then.  (Note: reading old posts is like looking at old pictures...I tend to critique everything and think how much better I am now than I was then...which tends to make me be self conscious of what I'm doing now considering that I'll look back on it someday with the same heavy-handed critiques).

I started my first blog on August 11, 2005 and posted my first post at 2:59pm.  So in honor of my SEVEN year blogging anniversary, I thought I would post my very first post from that blog, aptly named: Blog1.  It isn't too exciting but it does show a bit of my voice.

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Blog1 
Huh...here I am...in Blog land. My guess is that my first blog is probably reminicent of most people's first blog. I have only really seen one person's blog...but it too started out with the starry-eyed, fresh-faced wonderment of the land of blogging. There really is so much possibility at the beginning. I almost want to take a moment of silence to drink it all in. 
... 
(shhh...I'm being silent!!) 
... 
Ok...well now that I'm done with that, I guess I should write something about my choice of blog name. I would like to point out that picking a blog name was very overwhelming. In the end, I just went with what came into my head first (and it is alliterative...which is always fun : ). Girl Gone Great is in reference to who I was and where I am now. Of course, things aren't always great now...but they are better than when I was a girl...so hence my name. I guess you could REALLY read into and say it represents where I have been, where I am now (only if you add a question mark to the end of it...like...Girl Gone Great?) and where I hope to go. So anyway, that is my name.
I wish I could come up with some sort of grand, beautiful piece on what I plan on blogging about and how it is going to change the world as we know it...but sadly, all I have are an excuse to not do "real" work and a love a gabbing. But maybe someday I will have something to add to my blog that will touch lives in a meaningful way, and when that day comes, well...I most definatley will be unprepared for it as, along with my disdain for "real" work and my gossipy nature, I am also a severe procrastinator...but in any case...keep an eye out for that world changing piece I may post at some point. (See, don't you want to come back and check already?) In the meantime, welcome to my blog, thanks for visiting and have a lovely day! 
--Girl


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I love the idea of going back and reading the first post.  It is a written history of not knowing the future.  Sometimes people start a blog with a clear vision of where they want it to go, but a lot of times that first post is an introduction and a hope of what is to come.  Because of this, I'd like to encourage you to participate in an experiment that I've never done here before: a link up.  If you feel so inclined, use the link up feature below to link to your first post.  I'd love to read it.  I'll leave the link party up for a while so that people can continue to contribute to it.

A lot of times people require a button share when they do a link party, but I'm not particularly into that type of thing.  Just share amongst your friends if you so choose, and if not, you're still invited to the party :)  Because even in the world of perpetual writing and growth, the beginning is still a very good place to start.

Make sure to click on the linky-tool below to link to your post:

Wednesday, June 27, 2012

The rhododendron bush should recover nicely...

...but I've been sentenced to two weeks in a boot.



Let me set the scene for you.  

I had walked to Little G's school on Friday with him running along ahead of me as I pushed the Ladybug in the stroller.  I dropped him off and had every intention of taking a walk in the arboretum with two of the other moms.  Instead, I crouched down to give Little G a kiss and a high five goodbye and as I was getting up, I lost my footing and my ankle collapsed and I heard it snap.  Of course, I can't do anything half-assed, so I continued to stumble towards a small step that separates the back yard where Little G was from the drop off area.  I momentarily saw a fence post that I could catch myself on and grabbed for it realizing too late that it was actually a garden tool that wasn't going to hold my weight one bit.  So instead of stopping myself and being able to assess the damage to my foot, I instead went hurtling face first down the step and landed with my head in a rhododendron bush, my ass in the air and my foot waggling behind me.

How the other moms standing around didn't laugh hysterically is beyond me.  I mean, imagine chatting with someone being relatively aware that there is someone else at least 20 feet away and then in an instant looking up to see them come crashing head first into a bush at your feet.

Graceful, I am not.

Poor Little G came over right away and wanted to know why I was in a bush.  He saw I was crying and exclaimed, "You're not a baby!!" -- remind me to force him to listen to "It's Alright to Cry" from the Free to Be You and Me Album on repeat until he stops associating crying with babies.  Then he realized I was bleeding (somehow I got a huge gash on my arm...not sure if it was the bush fighting back or something else along the way) and he started to cry.  So someone quickly led him away and explained I had been looking for snails.

Thankfully, one of the moms had dropped off her son and he is still on the smaller side and in a convertible seat in her car.  So after I cleaned out my wound we loaded up the stroller in the back of her car and then she drove the Ladybug and I home.  She had to head to work and the Ladybug needed to go down for a nap, so I got her upstairs and plopped on my bed and started texting and calling people -- my husband was in Indianapolis for the day so he really couldn't help.

You know the saying, "it takes a village"?  Yeah...that apparently applies to taking care of me as well.

I was smart enough to know that going to the emergency room in the middle of a heat wave was not a great idea, so I decided to call the orthopedist from the last time this happened.  They weren't available and not necessarily helpful so I called my primary physician for another referral.  That referral ALSO wasn't available, but they at least had another referral.  SIX REFERRALS later, I found myself with a 10:30am appointment to see an orthopedist a half hour drive away...and it was 9:45am.  EEP!

Thankfully, I had been in contact with some neighbors and a friend that was off work that day to head to a wedding (who had unfortunately already left town).  The friend suggested that I call my kids' Godfather because he's a teacher and was off school!  SCORE!  He promised to show up ASAP.  My neighbor was home with her two children, so they came over and stayed with the Ladybug until she woke up while the kids' Godfather showed up and took me to the appointment. 

It was exactly what I suspected.  The same injury as last time.  Broken, but not in the traditional sense...more like I sprained it so severely that I pulled a chip of bone off.  Two weeks in a boot, six weeks in a brace and physical therapy is the prescription.

I got my boot and my crutches and was home by 12:05!  Take THAT emergency room!!

Of course, THIS time even though Little G has school (though today is his last day for the summer) I have the Ladybug around, so I had to call up the reserves.  Currently my mom is downstairs while the Ladybug naps.  Upon reflection, my husband and I realized that there was no way I could safely carry Ladybug up and down the stairs with the boot on, so we flew my mom up here and she'll be here until the day after the 4th.

So those are the graceful enterprises I've been up to lately...anyone else care to share their exploits in Rhododendron care?

Friday, June 15, 2012

Running along

We run to school.  We leave our house and Little G holds the door for us.  He expectantly unlatches the gate and then we're off.  People cringe when they see him running full force to the corner of the street, and breathe a sigh of relief when he turns the corner without skipping a beat.

The Ladybug's face shines up at me from her stroller while we race down the hill toward the 'big street', stopping at every driveway now to see if there's a car coming.

"Nope, nobody coming!" he sings.

Down to the corner by the bus stop - he presses the button for the crosswalk which doesn't respond until I catch up and actually press the stiff button all the way.

Holding hands, we cross and continue along the busy, loud street.  Cars, buses, trucks of every kind from mail to trash to funny looking ones for picking cherries.  We wave to everyone we pass.  We say 'hello'.  There is an Indian family that waits for the city bus at the next corner that we see every day and say, 'hi' to.

Today they weren't there.

Today, there was an older man that we have never seen beckoning for us to come closer...which I couldn't stop us from doing because we were walking in that direction.

Today, as we got closer, the older man squatted down blocking almost the entire sidewalk to get a hug from Little G who was careening in his direction.

Today, I said loudly and sternly, "NO.  No hugs.  No hugs."

The spirit of the morning changed for just a moment.  I could hear the quiet between the squeals of bus brakes and roar of dump trucks.  I could anticipate that man's clothing touching the skin of my little boy.

Today, Little G stopped before the man and looked at him warily and then diverted his path completely around him, watching him all the way.

The man mumbled, "why?" and as I passed I said, "because we do not hug strangers on the street."

Suddenly, a voice from a bright red pickup truck stopped in traffic, gleefully shouted hello to us.  Our neighbor, Carlos.  Little G jumped and pointed and shouted back to him and waved joyfully as we continued our run to school.

Monday, June 11, 2012

Good nights

On a good night, he gives me a big hug; no a bigger one.

On a good night, his arms wrap around me tightly.

On a good night, he smells like dirt and soap.

On a good night, his lashes blink tiredly.

On a good night, he repeats, "have a good night, mommy".

On a good night, he reads on his own after we leave until his light goes out.

On a good night, he giggles to himself at the flying pig and the books coming out of the toaster and the girl licking a hot air balloon.

On a good night, he sings to his trains.

On a good night, he whispers, "I love YOU, mommy".



Good night, Little G.

Good night.

Tuesday, May 08, 2012

Holy Croup!

So remember this busy yet blissful day?  It supposedly ended at 11:30pm with me staring at my clock while laying in bed anticipating getting up at 5:45 in the morning to head to the airport and fly to Pennsylvania with both kids by myself.


Yeah...well, that isn't exactly what happened.

Little G had woken up earlier that morning with a scratchy voice. I thought about pulling him from school that day, but he seemed perfectly fine by breakfast, so off we went.

When I picked him up from school, his voice seemed to be weak again and I just chalked it up him having used it all day at school.

We put him to bed with his water, which we don't usually do these days to keep him from peeing in his bed overnight.  Around 10:30, when I was finally sitting down to write that one email that I needed to get to before heading to bed, I heard him start coughing.  It was a horrible cough that sounded very dry and painful.

By 11:00 I decided to go into his bedroom with some honey and a sippy cup of water.  My husband came with me and Little G weakly sat up in bed crying.  Before I could even ask him if he wanted any honey, he pushed me away and squeaked, "NO, I don't want that!".  So I suggested that we go sit near the shower.  But my husband misunderstood my intentions and asked Little G if he wanted to TAKE a shower.  Shockingly, he said, 'yes', so we headed into the bathroom but when we turned on the water, he started to freak out.  We tried to explain that we were just going to sit near the water, but he was beside himself and then he threw up.

My husband kept saying he was going to take him to the hospital and I was about to suggest that we just call the doctor when the scariest thing I have ever encountered in 2.9 years of parenting happened.  Little G stopped breathing and his lips turned bluish gray and his eyes glazed over.  It was only for a second, but I immediately shouted at my husband to take him to the hospital NOW!!

We got him downstairs and calmed him down by having him watch Thomas on the iPad.  His breathing was getting a little bit better.  Luckily, I had already finished packing for our trip in the morning so there was a bag already packed with water/extra clothes/entertainment for them to take with them to the hospital.  We carried him out to the car and loaded him in his car seat.

And then I did what was probably the hardest thing I have done yet as a mother.  I stood in my driveway and watched my husband drive away with my son in the back seat, completely unable to do anything further from that point forward.  The tricky thing with my son, is that when he is upset he does NOT want anyone to touch him or hug him or rub his back or cuddle with him, so there wouldn't have been much I could do anyway...but still, letting go at that moment pretty much wrenched my heart out of my body.

I went back inside and tried to go to sleep, but instead I lay awake desperate for any updates.  My husband texted that they had arrived and that Little G had gotten much better even on the car ride there; so much so that he felt a little silly taking him into the hospital.  But into the hospital they went.

In the end, it turns out he had croup, which is viral and causes your airways to clench up.  It comes on at night and the right thing to do is to either get to a place where you can sit near some steam, or wrap your kid in a blanket and take them outside to breathe cooler air.

Little G received two steroid shots in his legs to help his air passages stay open and they monitored him for a while.  They finally got home at 3:00 in the morning with instructions to keep an eye on him and permission to take our flight the next day.

After only a couple of hours of sleep we got up and got ourselves out the door and to the airport.


My biggest concern with flying by myself at this point was his penchant for having epic tantrums when it comes time to turn off the electronic devices while landing.  I was so afraid he would have another breathing episode.




Turns out, he was too tired to protest, so we survived the flight, landed and met my mom and headed back to her house.  Little G fell asleep on the way home in the car, which is pretty unheard of for him.


When we finally arrived, he took some time to greet the doggies and then we headed upstairs where he napped for four hours.

So now you know what last Tuesday was really like.  After all of the insanity of the day and all the things that had to get done (a good portion of which weren't included in the photo recap since they fit into the portions of the day that didn't fall on the half hour) the real excitement hadn't even started yet.

I am so proud of my Little G.  He was so brave and such a trooper.  And I am so thankful that he was feeling so much better so quickly.  In fact, the next day, you wouldn't have even known he had been sick save for a squeaky voice that lasted for a few days.

Have you had the croup in your house yet?

Thursday, May 03, 2012

A day in the life

I saw a really fun post recently where a woman took a picture every hour of her day and then assembled them all into a lovely collage of her daily moments, complete with the times of each picture photoshopped in, using only the most whimsical of typefaces.

I can't compete with that.

I can, however, take a picture every hour on the half hour one day and upload them to Instagram and then post them all here for your viewing pleasure sans lovely grid and trendy typography.

So let's get to it, shall we?

The day in question was this past Tuesday, April 24, 2012

6:30am - The Ladybug is up early this morning - so I feed her and bring her into our bed to keep her from waking up Little G with her squeals.

7:30am - Make lunch for Little G to bring to school.  Whole Grain Rabbits, left over sweet potato, chopped chicken fingers from a meal he didn't finish earlier in the week, and grapes - no, we don't cut them up anymore

8:30am - Drop off Little G at his new school...we walk there since it was a nice day.  Actually, he runs there, while I walk behind and then when he gets to a street he runs back exclaiming, "THERESASTREETUPTHERE!!!!!" and hops onto the piggyback, ride-on attachment of our stroller.  Usually we are at least 25 yards from the street.

 9:30am - a well deserved coffee break while the Ladybug is napping


10:30am - playing with Ladybug on the floor in the living room while simultaneously starting to write the packing list for our trip the next day to Pennsylvania.  I'll be traveling by myself with the kids for the first time, so I have (naturally) procrastinated on the packing in protest

11:30am - Famished, I scarf down my lunch.  Salad with left over chicken, goat cheese and the world's most awesome poppy seed dressing...but only 2 tablespoons of it because that sh*t will kill you.

12:30pm - Ladybug is asleep again so I try and get some work done at my computer


1:30pm - Ladybug is up and hungry.  Time for a bottle on the couch while I catch up on America's Next Top Model


2:30pm - Ladybug reeeeeeally needs to take her third nap, but is resisting, so I stick her in the Moby wrap.

3:30pm - The kids' wash is done so I can fold it and pack most of it...at some point, still not sure when.


4:30pm - I have ground lamb in the freezer that HAS to be used before we leave so I decide to make meatballs to have for dinner later.


5:30pm - Just getting back to our house from walking to pick up Little G from school


6:30pm - I should have had dinner on the table earlier since Little G is exhausted, but I had to feed the Ladybug when we got home.  Now I'm finally cooking the pasta and hopefully we'll eat in the next 15 minutes.  My husband has to work late this evening, which we were aware of going into the day.


7:30pm - Bedtime for Little G and Ladybug.  Daddy reads a bedtime story.


8:30pm - FINALLY time to pack.  Good thing I made that list earlier.  Sadly, my husband still has a bunch of work to do, so he can't help with the process.


9:30pm - Packing's done, time to clean up dinner.


10:30pm - I sit down to answer an important email that came in earlier in the day.


11:30pm - Finally, bed time.  Or was it... (to be continued)


Friday, March 23, 2012

The post where I finally wrap up my ridiculously long story on the logistics of getting to the courthouse (or DO I?)

Previously: I had finally made it out of the house and headed to the bus stop with both kids and our 'luggage' for the day and was in the process of missing the bus.

--

We made the bus, thanks to some slow boarders and a red light in our favor, and Little G had to get off the scooter because I can't get the stroller into the bus with it in use.  He promptly declared that we were never to go that fast again and got on the bus.  I paid our fare and looked up and all the seats were taken.  Little G had NO idea what to do, so I looked at everyone and loudly said, "he's only two and a half, someone is going to HAVE to get up and let him sit down".  Of course, the person-least-deserving-to-have-to-give-up-their-seat, an older woman, got up for us for which I thanked her profusely.  At this point, I was sweating like a hog and the bus, which usually, in warm weather, is blowing out icicles from its vents, apparently still had its heat on.  I looked over at Little G and noticed that he was covered on his arms, his cheeks and his neck, with bumpy hives!  I asked him if they were itchy and he said no...so I made a mental note to keep an eye on them and prayed they were nothing serious.  I was so glad when we finally pulled into the last stop.  It was 10:05am.

As we walked through the T station, Little G immediately recognized that this is where we go to take the trains, so he wanted to go find one.  He was also quick to point out the birds in the building, probably in the same sentence as the trains...you know, because he's two like that.  I explained that we couldn't go to the train because we were going to our next place on our adventure, but when we were done with that, maybe we could go ride the train. Besides, we could watch Thomas when we got inside the building we were going to. There was some whining, including a repeat of the previous 'I don't want Thomas' silliness, but I was walking so fast (not too fast...I had been scolded, you know) that I think he just held on for the ride.  It was about a 5 minute walk to the courthouse.

When we got there, I parked our stroller at the top of the building-wide steps and proceeded to get a bottle ready for the Ladybug.  I also got out a huge cup of 'different rabbits' (the graham cracker bunnies which are clearly 'different' than the cheese ones and thus aptly named as such in our house) for Little G.  We sat calmly on the concrete steps of the courthouse (except for one moment when the Ladybug may or may not have spit up half her lunch on the steps) watching the traffic go by with everyone in our small party happily eating their morning snacks...except me.  It is a cardinal rule that the more stuff you bring on an adventure with your kids, the less you will remember to bring for yourself.  I had nary a granola bar nor any water for myself and the coffee and flakey cereal I had at 7:15 in the morning felt like a loooooong time ago.

I kept my eye on my watch and finished feeding the Ladybug with about 15 minutes to get into the courthouse.  As I started to load her up into my Moby, knowing that she was fully rested and fully fed and thus most likely NOT going to fall asleep anytime soon, I realized that Little G had wandered back down the steps with the blanket I had and was furiously scrubbing away at the spit up the Ladybug had left earlier.  Score 1 for awesome preschool - mental note: don't use that blanket again until after its been dipped in bleach and washed an/or burned because, ew.

We headed into the courthouse and into an area the width of the door and the length of the stroller and started the process of getting everything OUT of the stroller to place it on the metal detecter belt. Of course, I had to walk both my kids through separately, put the Ladybug back in the stroller and then step through myself without wearing her.  Which was annoying, but I didn't protest.  I was almost in the clear and the security guard said, "maam, do you have a phone with you?"

Now remember, written in BIG BOLD RED LETTERS on my court document it said NO CELL PHONES, but I had called ahead to get permission for the iPod touch that was in the bag.  I DID also have my cell phone (there's no way in hell I would leave my home with two small children on an adventure like this without it), but figured he meant the one clearly wrapped up in headphones so I took it out and showed it to him.  I was explaining that I talked to someone yesterday and they said it was ok and he just kept pointing out all of the signs that were around that not only said NO CELL PHONES but also NO ELECTRONIC DEVICES.  Oops.  I knew Little G was on the fence about Thomas anyway, but couldn't afford to have them confiscate the iPod, so I begged and pleaded and tried my darndest to come up with the name of the woman I had spoken to on the phone...note to self...get the name, always get the name!!

Eventually, the security guard had a line behind me and he finally just asked me for my paperwork.  I reached into the bag to grab it and realized, pretty quickly, that it was sitting in a bright orange (bright so that I would be less likely to leave it behind) folder...on my kitchen counter.  This is when I may or may not have started to lose my shit.  I asked the guard if he had children and explained to him that getting out of the house that day with two children was shaping up to be one of the hardest things I had done in a while and then I actually said, "I think I'm going to cry"...to which Little G came scampering back from his tour of high-fiving every police officer in the foyer to say solemly, "please don't cry, mommy" and the security guard just looked at me like I was nut-so and calmly pointed me toward my courtroom and said that I would have to explain the iPod touch to them and to not worry about the paperwork.

So we headed down the hallway in the general direction of where he had pointed and sat down on a bench outside a courtroom.  Thankfully about 30 seconds later, the security guard came down the hall and pointed out to me that I was in front of the wrong courtroom and led me to the correct one. There was a small vestibule in front of the courtroom where I was able to stash the stroller and I grabbed the Ladybug, but didn't have time to Moby wrap her (though I was still wearing it) and Little G and I entered the room.

It. was. packed.  And hot.  And did I mention packed?  And the size of a large bathroom.  We fumbled and bumbled our way to the lady at the desk and I told her I didn't have my paperwork.  I tried to remain hushed, but it was rather impossible to NOT be heard by the 20 other people sitting literally within a 5 foot radius of where I was standing.  While I was explaining my paperwork situation, Little G was quietly, and effectively pushing things over on the ledge of her desk.  I caught his hand and pointed to a chair for him to sit in and once I got the go ahead from the woman, I headed to the chair next to him...but not before knocking over something else on her desk with my diaper bag.

I sat down with Little G and pulled out the stickers!!  and the paper!!  and gave them to Little G and suggested that he put ALL the stickers on the paper - and THANK GOD he sat there bound and determined to get every sticker off that sheet.  Less than 30 seconds after sitting down, they declared the session started and BOOM, called me first. (Hey - there apparently IS a benefit to showing up at the court with two small kids and crazy-mom hair).

I still hadn't gotten the Ladybug into the Moby, so I was just holding her in my arms while I explained what happened that day.  My voice was shaking from all the adrenaline, from the hunger, from the freaking heat, from having no time to prepare, from not having my printed pictures and maps with me, from the general oddity of having to speak in a public forum of complete and total strangers that are all glaring at me from five feet away because I literally just walked in the room and now they've called me first.   I talked about how the police officer wasn't noticeable and that obviously, I had my children's best interest as well as the best interest of my community in mind when I made the call to go around the utility truck and thus drive on the wrong side of the road, and she said, "Well obviously!  This is thrown out, you are free to go".

It was such a fast, short process (we literally were in the room less than 5 minutes) I almost didn't know what to do...but I wasn't going to stick around, so I grabbed our bag and told Little G we were done and needed to take our stickers outside and go find the train and he lept up from his chair and raced me out of the courtroom and down the hall.  I quickly thanked the security guard and we headed to back to the train station.

I'd love to end here...and I should because this is ridiculously long...but the thing about kids is that no matter how tricky the logistics are of a situation...its just one part of one day and it was only 11:15 at this point!  We still had so much left to do!

Once we were on the Orange line it dawned on me that the Ladybug needed to be changed and I needed food and HAD to go to the bathroom.  So I made the decision to ride the train into the city where we could get off at the Macy's and use their facilities.  Sadly, the whole world knows about the lovely bathrooms on the third floor of the Macy's so it was a steady stream of people and loud flushing and even louder hand dryer blowing.  Little G was totally traumatized (he doesn't like loud noises) and was cowering in my legs while I changed the Ladybug.  I dragged us into a handicapped stall so I could go potty and he begged me over and over again, "please don't flush the toilet, mommy. Please don't flush!"

Don't worry...I flushed.  And I also washed and dried my hands.  And I am also aware that the odds of getting him to EVER go potty in a public restroom are now slim to none.

Once back on the street, I grabbed a large water and a sausage with onions and peppers from a street vendor and we headed to the playground at the Frog Pond in the common.

We had a delightful time.  Little G kept running off and doing Lord only knows what and then he would touch base about every five minutes and eat another bite of his lunch.  The ladybug actually fell asleep in the stroller.  I was able to eat my sausage and drink my water and sit in the sun and ruminate on how I was not defeated.*

I figured eventually the promise of another train ride would win out over staying longer at the playground and Little G would happily head home with me and we'd catch the 50 bus (the one that runs the closest to our house) and then we'd all go inside in time for some dual kiddo naptime.  And that basically happened, which was awesome, except that since Little G is no longer strapped into a stroller, I can not physically MAKE him go in the house, so while I was getting the Ladybug situated, he ran off into our back yard and started playing in my garden which, as mentioned at the beginning of this story, just happens to be a big pile of boy-enticing dirt.  Because in his little 2.8 year old mind, we talked about going outside 6 hours earlier and NOW he was going to get his chance!!


Finally, Little G determined he needed to go potty, which I swear to this moment is the only reason I got him inside, and we came inside and I took the picture above just before plopping him into the bath.  He was asleep by 3:30, so only an hour after my initial estimate.

Too soon, I had to wake him up so we could start our LAST adventure of the day!

*my newest prayer of thanksgiving - though I only just learned the specific words later that evening at a book reading and signing event I attended of my most favorite author ever, Anne Lamott.

Thursday, March 22, 2012

That really long story...is about to get longer...

Previously - I was preparing myself and my two little ones for a fun field trip to the local courthouse to fight a dumb traffic ticket.

The day came around beautiful and sunny, a glorious treat for the middle of March. The Ladybug was up first at 6:30, which woke up Little G...but he sort-of went back to bed when I opened his door and hushed, "It's not time to get up yet, buddy. Go back to sleep".  I fed Ladybug and started to think logistics. She eats every four hours, which meant, she'd need another bottle at 10:30.  Our appointment was at 11, which meant finding a place to feed her there before going in.  Also, it would be nice for her to be asleep in my Moby wrap when I was in there, which meant not allowing a huge morning nap.

I kept all of that in mind as I fed her her morning bottle and went in to get Little G from his hushed silence. As we all headed downstairs for breakfast, I also found myself hemming and hawing on how we were going to get there.  If I was going to keep the Ladybug up, than we were going to need to keep her occupied.  Usually a walk would do it, so I decided that we would all take the bus from our house to the courthouse (which happens to be located near the T station where the bus line ends). Ladybug eventually tired and I set her down for her nap.

Through all of this I was determined not to fill time with Little G by having him watch Thomas, because I needed him to not be Thomas'd out when we got to the courthouse.  It was a beautiful day and before I could think, I suggested we go outside and play, thinking we could run off some steam. I IMMEDIATELY remembered that Little G has a magnetic attraction to my garden which is currently a huge pile of dirt, so I backtracked, "...oorrrrr", I sing-songed, "we could stay in here and run around in circles".  It was too late.  He'd already heard the word, 'outside', and like a frisky puppy, was jumping up and down in the foyer.

I expected the meltdown that came next.  I mean, I basically dangled a carrot and then not only took it away, but held up (I don't know, what ever the opposite of THAT is) instead.  Eventually, I was able to calm Little G down enough that he forgot about 'outside'.  I got him dressed and somehow kept him occupied enough in the three hours we had between getting up and leaving.  And we talked about the adventure we were about to go on.   I reminded him that when we went into the big building that looks like church, we would have to be quiet, but unlike church, we could watch Thomas.  To which my son, train ADDICT, whined, "I don waaaanna watch Thomas!"  I was so shocked you could have pushed me over with a feather.  Thomas is my trump card.  That was it.  That's all I had to offer.  I quickly demised that he was bluffing, but just in case, grabbed a sheet of Thomas stickers (usually reserved for his potty chart that we've forgotten to use for the past two months) and some paper and added them to our luggage for the day.

It was getting later and later and the Ladybug was still sleeping.  In my morning rush, which ALSO included getting my stuff together for the courthouse AND all the stuff one needs for a day out with two children; lunch! snacks! bottles! burp cloths! pull ups! diapers! forumla! blanket! jacket! extra clothes! hand sanitizer! monkey wrench! flame thrower! etc... I had forgotten that I was supposed to have kept Ladybug's morning nap to a short one.  Eventually we arrived at the point where it was going to be too late for us to take the bus to the courthouse...except, I thought as I looked at the stroller and everything I had packed sitting in my living room, except, I was STILL going to need the stroller when I got there and the thought of taking it all back around to the car and loading it all back in there was daunting.  Plus, it wouldn't save me THAT much time in the end (it's only a two mile ride and I would have to park at the end of it).  The bus had the potential of being faster.  Gloriously, the decision was made for me.  I heard the Ladybug upstairs, so I darted to her room and got her changed; tossed her in the stroller and headed out the door.

Little G rode on his 'piggy back', which is a ride-on attachment for the stroller that he calls his scooter, while I walked down our hill toward the bus stop.  When we got there, I quickly checked my app on my phone to see when the next bus was coming.  Usually they are pretty quick, but sometimes the scheduling is wonky and it makes more sense to keep walking into our little village where there is the possiblity of at least three more bus lines going through.  Sadly, the app was malfunctioning so I had to, gasp, stand there like a normal person and wait.  So we waited.  And waited.  And waited and waited and waited.  And I started to get really nervous.  So I made the decision to leave.  And no sooner was I halfway between my bus stop and the next one (which is inexplicably only two blocks away), and a 50 bus rounded the corner...which meant I was going to have to RUN to catch it at the next stop.  So I ran down the street like a lunatic with Ladybug in the stroller, Little G hanging onto the back and all of our stuff jostling in the basket below.  The sidewalks are crazy-bumpy so I kept telling Little G to HANG ON!!!!

to be continued...(here) (sorry...who knew this story of one day in my life would be so epic!  And yet...not really.  I mean...its essentially just a story about the logistics of hauling around two kids to a traffic hearing...I think I told both my birth stories in shorter prose)



Wednesday, March 21, 2012

A really long story about a traffic ticket that you probably don't want to spend the time reading but that I need to get out of my system since I haven't talked to an actual adult yet today (other than to plead my case to the magistrate)

Today was one of those marathon days that even halfway through, you look back and realize you deserve some sort-of medal for all you have accomplished.  It is good to look back at it that way because nine times out of ten, the day will end much differently than it started...usually with a detour towards crazy town somewhere around nap time.

But first...some history:

 A few months ago I was leaving Little G's new school and my normal way home (it is less than a mile) was completely jammed up with traffic. So, with a screaming 12 week old in the car, I turned the other direction and planned to go around the other side of the park that is between his school and our house.  I got to the end of the street, and there was a utility truck completely obstructing my lane.  If I turned right, I would end up either back at all the traffic, or really far away from home.  I needed to turn left.  There was no one directing traffic and the light turned green and so I hedged my bets and crossed into the other side of street so that I could go around the utility vehicle and turn left and be on my way.  Halfway past the vehicle, a police man popped his head out from where he had been leaning into the truck and started yelling at me.  The Ladybug was screaming her little head off...I felt badly, but I didn't stop; instead I waved to indicate my mistake and went on my merry way. - which was quite merry what with all of the baby screaming going on.  Then, halfway between the park and our house we passed by a paddy-wagon.  I had no sooner passed it when it turned on its lights and pulled me over.  Apparently I was a criminal on the run.

I was annoyed enough as it was, the thought crossed my mind that the policeman may have wanted me to pull over, but seriously, to do what...have a chat about it while my baby screamed?  No thank you.  Keeping that in mind, you can imagine how much MORE annoyed I was when the policeman driving the paddy-wagon basically berated me the moment I rolled my window down.  I get it, I live in a city where there are actual criminals with bona fide criminal intent, but there was no reason to get all crazy-town huffy over it, especially when I also had my two year old in the car who adores policemen.  I'm just saying, forget the fact that I really didn't think I was in the wrong in the first place (or I wouldn't have endangered my kids) even if I WAS wrong, don't yell at me infront of my kids unless I yell at you first.

Phew...annnnnnnyway, the police officer eventually told me that he would take my information to the other policeman at the utility truck and HE would decide if I would be ticketed or not.  yay.  Low and behold, about a week later, I got a ticket in the mail for $200!!  $50 for driving on the wrong side of the road and $100 for not stopping at a light or sign.  Well, heeeeeeellll no was I going to let THAT stand.  I know beyond a shadow of a doubt (and believe me...I'm easy to convince I have left the oven on when I haven't used it all week) that the light turned green because THAT'S WHY I DECIDED TO TURN!!!

Blerg.

Anyway, it costs $25 to get a court hearing (which is bunk if you ask me) but I sent in my check and hoped for the best and annoyingly enough I got a summons to go to court on Wednesday, March 21 at 11:00am to fight my ticket.  Yeah.  Wednesday.  The one. day. a. week. Little G isn't in school - also the day he has swim lessons at 9:30.

The court paper said to bring the paper work with me along with cash if I wanted to appeal whatever decision was made.  After some online research, I discovered that the courthouse had childcare.  I emailed the liaison and never got a response so yesterday I finally called to find out what the deal was.  Turns out the childcare program has been gone since the late '90's (UPDATE YOUR WEBSITE PEOPLE!!).  I asked if it would be alright for my son (who is 2.5) to bring his iPod touch with a Thomas movie loaded onto it and his headphones.  The woman on the phone said, "he can't have a phone".  I said, "it isn't a phone, it's a touch".  To which she responded, "it isn't the phone that's a problem, there can't be a camera in the courthouse."  I cheerily explained that the camera function had been removed from this iPod touch and she put me on hold to talk to the magistrate.  When she came back she explained that they said I could bring the iPod touch, but if my son started to become a distraction, they would ask me to reschedule my appointment.  I agreed that made sense and began the task of preparing my little family unit (sans one helpful husband) to go to the courthouse the next day.

To be continued...

(on the next installment of this really stupidly long explanation of what I did with my day today: RUNNING FOR BUSSES!!  PLEADING WITH SECURITY GUARDS!!  DIRT!!)

Thursday, January 26, 2012

Teachable Moments

Imagine a scenario where you are walking out of your mom group at your church with your sweet, three month old daughter in her stroller and you see ahead of you a group of young adolescents calling out to one another. You realize that the group is teasing another adolescent who seems to be a friend but has chosen to go running the other direction.  They chide him and one girl calls out, "Fuck you, you fucking whore...  Why don't you just lick it...fucking lick it, lick it, lick it."

As you come closer to the group, since they are directly between you and the destination of your car, you look at your daughter's lovely, innocent face and your heart breaks for the young girl who can't be more than 12 years old and you remember your own early adolescence and the importance of proving yourself to your friends.  You catch the girl's eyes and say calmly to her, "You are worth so much more than that language.  You are beautiful.  Don't ever forget your worth."

If this were a Hallmark movie-of-the-week or a Church of Latter Day Saints commercial, the music would swell, the girl would hold back as her friends continued forward and there might be a moment of reflection in her eyes as she considers your remarks while you continue along thinking maybe you made a difference.

If you were Tina Fey as Liz Lemon on 30 Rock, the girl would cuss you out and then laugh with her friends while running along saying, "why don't you stay out of my fucking business".

One guess on which one happened to me this morning.

But it doesn't matter.

All I can do is pray that we succeed in raising our daughter in a way that someday when she is with her friends and making choices on her own without the benefit of having her mother there to guide her, some day when she is tempted by her freedom to show off for her friends, that that she will know her worth, that she will remember the worth of others and that she will make the right choices to honor her parents, her God, her friends and herself.

Wednesday, January 18, 2012

On mommy olympics and a revisit to past glamour

I posted this on a mommy board I belong to earlier today, but since it is almost a year to the day of THIS GLAMOROUS OUTING AT THE CHILDREN'S MUSEUM, I figured I would post it here too...

If mothering were a judged Olympic sport I think I'd deserve a bronze medal. Here's my case for today: I scored well for getting both kids out of the house, into the car and into the children's museum from our parking spot four blocks and one parking garage away. The judges loved how I brought my Moby wrap so Ladybug didn't need the stroller once we got in. My piece de resistance was tearing Little G away from the trains in the toddler room to go potty on the only little kid potty at the museum. This required waiting in line and then summoning him away from the trains from across the room - then going to retrieve him w/o losing my space in line. Once inside the bathroom, I scored well on the technicalities of changing Ladybug while helping Little G on the potty and then I tried my big 'jump' and tried to go potty myself. Unfortunately, after an awe inspiring performance so far, I forgot that the 'tail' of my Moby wrap was in the back (since I'm too bulky for it to wrap around front) and I dipped it in the toilet when sitting down. The toddler judge noticed immediately and docked my score. Fortunately I ended well with Little G making a showing on the potty, me getting everyone dressed again, getting everyone's hands washed and getting out the door and back to the trains just in time for our ending pose with me feeding a screaming Ladybug while Little G played.

So there you go. My bronze medal in mothering. If only there wasn't another tournament in 20 minutes and I hadn't been disqualified from the going-to-bed event last night.

Monday, January 02, 2012

Living Intentionally

You might have noticed that I fell of the WEverb11 bandwagon pretty soon into it.  I believe I made it a week.

It isn't that I didn't want to write and it isn't that I wasn't inspired by the prompts.  I just ran out of time.

We are dealing with a very stressful situation with Little G at his daycare which was the overwhelming theme of our month but in and around all of that stress was the whole holiday insanity of getting presents and wrapping them and sending out Christmas cards and stocking stuffers and holiday baking and tree decorating and parties and visits from friends and trying to ensure that our 2.5 year old learns for the first time what Christmas actually is and, oh right, A NEWBORN!!  Throw into that mix the head cold that Little G brought home from daycare that manifested itself in me as bronchitis and you can see how the month just totally got away from me.

Interestingly enough, though I provided a WEverb prompt, it was not chosen as one of the 31 and yet was the one that I was most interested in reflecting upon.  Specifically, it was about living intentionally.  Did I feel that I lived intentionally in the past year and what was my plan to succeed in that regard for 2012.

It is hard when you have a baby to think back to what life was like before they showed up.  They are all consuming from moment one and by the time you get a chance to reflect on what your life was like before they joined it, the memory has slipped far enough away that it is too demanding to bring it up again.

I do know that I waste a lot of time on the internet.  Some of that has to do with my writing for FLOR.  When looking for inspiration it isn't uncommon for me to find myself lost after having followed an idea down a rabbit hole and all of the sudden it has been over an hour and I haven't done anything productive. I also have an unhealthy obsession with keeping my blog reader clear of new entries.  That goes for Facebook and Twitter as well - I HAVE to read everything.  With an iPhone and an iPad and now my iMac, it is easier than ever to space out from real life for a minute or two and quickly 'check' something or look something up.

And it is so easy to get caught up in thinking that I HAVE to be as creative as all the impossibly-perfect mommy-designer bloggers and everything in my life from my everything drawer to my drinking straws to the pillows on my couch HAS to be just as lovely as those I see on Pinterest.  But my couch will live if it doesn't have navy and gray chevron-striped throw pillows.  And I will be just as loved by my family and friends if I don't have place cards at my next impromptu pizza night.

I am so competitive that it is extraordinarily easy for me to get caught up in the race to be the trendiest, the cutest, the most thoughtfully detailed, etc.  And in doing so, I no longer am living my life with my family intentionally.  I become a shell of myself, determined to make things better, brighter, cuter, more design-y when they would love me best if I would show up to dinner.  FULLY show up...not only without my iPhone but without my mind wandering TO my iPhone.

Some of this is hyperbole.  I am exaggerating a bit to make a point.  But still, if I want to live more intentionally in 2012 than the first thing I need to do is be more aware of those things that eat away at my time and my focus and the internet is the number one thing that does this.

So how do I plan to rectify this?  I'm not exactly sure.  I do know that with two kids in the house, I don't have the time I used to have.  It just doesn't exist anymore.  So what I need to do is focus on what my plan is for the time I DO have.  And I think the best thing for me is to blog intentionally.  How is that going to help my family?  What that means to me is that I am going to blog what I want to blog and not what I think I should blog.  I am going to pledge to write what I want to write, not because I care what an audience might think, but because it is what I need to put down on 'paper'.  If I sign up for a series of prompts, I will allow myself to deviate and to fit the prompts into my life rather than vice a versa.

This is a promise to myself to live more intentionally both for my own personal benefit and for the benefit of my family.  So that I am relieved of the pressure to be more and/or different than who I am and I can return my focus to the wonderful life and beautiful family I already have.

So tell me, do you hope to live more intentionally this year and how does that look for you?

--



I tried to participate in WEverb11 this year (to the best of my abilities, what with a newborn in the house) and ended up needing to reflect and renew on more than it could prompt me to.











Wednesday, November 30, 2011

STILL too sexy fo' my car

So... remember how I had been driving a muscle car in the weeks prior to giving birth?  And remember how I was joking about how H-A-W-T I must have looked trying to back my ass up to get into that car?



Ohhhhh yeahhhhhhh....

Well, when I had my maternity photos taken a mere 5 days before Ladybug showed up, I coerced the photographer into taking some pin-up shots with me and my sexy car.  

Behold the hotness!!!



I know you are mad jealous of my America's Next Top Model Skillzzzz!
---
Maternity photos by: Emily Wilson - she's amazing!!

Monday, November 28, 2011

Please don't hate...

I'm just going to go ahead and say it.  

As of 10 days post-partum, I weighed less than when I got pregnant and was able to legitimately put on my pre-pregnancy jeans.

Ok...go ahead and hate.  I mean, I totally would if it were someone else.

But let me just get through this because I don't normally brag about my body and for once, I'm totally excited about it.

Waaaaaay back before I was pregnant with Little G, I weighed 206lbs.  Here's a picture of me the month before I got pregnant:

While pregnant with Little G, I gained over 40 lbs.  He weighed 10 lbs, 5oz. Here's a picture of me the day before I gave birth:


I only ever lost around 30 lbs of my pregnancy weight with Little G...meaning that I started this pregnancy with Ladybug at 216lbs.  Here is a picture of me exactly one day before I found out I was pregnant with Ladybug.


With Ladybug, I only gained 13 lbs.  She weighed 10lbs, 4.8oz.   Here's a picture of me 5 days before I gave birth:


So here we are.  This is a picture of me taken last Sunday.  (Ignore the mahem in the background, I seriously grabbed the iPhone and asked hubs to take a picture just so I could post it).  I'm in my pre-pregnancy jeans that fit better than before I got pregnant, even though I still have a small bit of my pregnancy pooch left.  My weight on that day was 212.


I wish I could take credit for having done something right, but I didn't really make any major lifestyle changes this pregnancy.  The best I can attribute it to is that I was mostly pregnant over the summer which meant that

  1. I was eating better since most of what we eat during the summer comes from our CSA

    and
  2. I was running around with Little G all summer, walking all over the place.  Everywhere from the Children's Museum to various parks to chasing him around the beach, etc.
Anyway, even though I know it is totally obnoxious to post this (especially so close to after Thanksgiving), I really just wanted to share this small triumph in my life.

So, yay.  Go me!

Ok...now back to our regularly scheduled snark and self-deprecation.