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Getting Ready

November 30, 2007

Only about six weeks…

Then will begin the thirteen long months.

And the pounds, they linger

November 28, 2007
Maybe you peeps can help me. I have this feeling something isn’t right here.

Some facts:

My pre-pregnancy weight before Merritt was significantly lighter than it was before Troy. During my pregnancy with Merritt, I gained just about the same number of pounds I did with Troy’s pregnancy, maybe three or four more. (NOT TELLING HOW MANY, mind you. A lady doesn’t talk about her weight, so I’m told. Although I am here, in a slightly roundabout way. Forgive me. I always promise never to mention it again. And I always do.) Which means my final pregnancy weight with Merritt was naturally less than my final weight with Troy. After I had Troy, I lost every shred of baby weight in three weeks. (And then that other weight over the course of the next year.) Why is it then, that at four weeks postpartum with Merritt, my scale tells me that I still have a sorry amount to go until I reach my pre-pregnancy weight from before I had Troy??

I know, that was confusing. But maybe your skills of reading comprehension as well as logic far surpass mine and you were able to decipher what I was attempting to say.

The point here is this:

When everyone kept telling me not to expect to lose all my baby weight in three weeks like I did with Troy, I didn’t really believe them.

Now I do.

Merritt has had a slight cold this past week, caught from his big brother. (The big brother who had two bad colds in his first six weeks of life, which I am certain completely took away his immune system forever. Please, if you are sick, don’t come within a fifty mile radius of Troy. He will catch whatever you have. Even if it’s not contagious.)

As I was browsing through some old entries posted on the locked journal I blogged on for the first year and a half before creating this blog, I came across this, written during Troy’s second very icky cold. (Of about a half a million. Among other illnesses. In twenty months.)

I’m hoping for Merritt’s sake that he has a better immune system than Troy does, and I’ve been QUITE content with the lack of severity in the little cold he’s had.

But now I wonder, for MY sake. . .

(Joking, joking. Clearing that up lest I get emails stating that I care more about my appearance than my son’s well-being. I don’t, just for the record.)

New! The Sick-Baby Fitness Program!

With three easy steps, you too can get in shape, just by having a baby with a cold!

Step 1–No time for pancakes, eggs and bacon when the baby needs to be held. Grab an apple for breakfast and you’re on your way!

Step 2–Nursing your baby every half hour provides comfort for him, a moment of rest for you, and keeps him from getting dehydrated. But, best of all, we all know nursing is one of the easiest ways to shed the pounds!

Step 3–Any fitness program cannot be complete without a special exercise! In an effort to lull your little one to sleep, get your daily exercise in by walking quickly up and down your home stairway fifty–count them!–fifty times!

So, to all the busy Moms with no time for much exercise, grab your baby, take a quick trip to a day-care-center or community park where germs abound, and start not-eating, nursing, and stair-stepping your way into shape!

Warnings: The founder of this program cannot guarantee that after walking up and down stairway fifty times the mother will be able to walk anywhere else in the house for the rest of the day, or that her baby will stay asleep once she sits down to rest. Additionally, the founder cannot guarantee that, unless she is Super-mom, the mother will look like a fitness model–complete with cute gym outfit and flawless face–after following this program. The lack of sleep and lack of showers for two days may take it’s toll on her appearance.

Apparently we have some work to do in the table manners department

I guess utensils like, you know, FORKS and SPOONS are just boring.

See this?

And this?
Look closely.

That is a crayon, peeps. A nice, blue crayon.

Thankfully, most restaurants today don’t reuse their crayons, child after child, like they did when I was little. Who knows what would be on that blue piece of wax if they did. I’m sure this fearless fellow would have contracted some deadly disease by now as a result of this dinner.

Unless, of course and most likely, the germs were completely rendered harmless by all that cheese from macaroni which adorns my son’s face and the globs of whipped cream being eaten with said crayon.

Because we all know a little blue wax and a few shreds of soggy paper always make dinner a better event, don’t we?

And then I wonder how I can be so tired

November 25, 2007

I feel kinda bad for the people who live with me right now. I even feel a bit bad for the people who don’t, because they are suffering even while across the country.

I am seriously emotional these days. As in, fighting tears at the drop of a hat.

Now, it’s no secret I’m dramatic and highly emotional across the board, but things have, uh, escalated a bit lately. Things that I can usually let roll off my back… don’t. They stick like glue.

Blame it on being three weeks post-partem. Blame it on the holidays, my lack of love for change and desperate, sometimes unrealistic, NEED for holding fast to a million and one important traditions. Blame it on lack of sleep. Or just plain ol’ blame it on me. Any way you slice it, it’s NO FUN.

Yesterday, I was more than slightly emotional, leaving my poor husband in a state of sad bewilderment. I finally told him, with eyes quickly filling, that I was just SO tired. He hugged me and said he understood. At that moment I didn’t think he did, but upon quick reflection, remembered that um, we are BOTH “just so tired.”

Here’s why.

Enter Thanksgiving Day at our house.

A particular little boy with very blonde hair and a great big cheesy grin seems to think waking up anytime between 5:30 and 6:30 am is just dandy these days. This results in a need for earlier naptimes. Which, in turn, can lead to some mighty interesting late afternoons around here.

Apparently we didn’t get him down for naptime early enough on Thursday, in the midst of all our lack of cooking, you know.


It appears not even that chunk of fudge could keep his eyes open. So much for a sugar high.

Or so we thought.

See this? Notice the red cheeks and puffy eyes?

Here’s why his little cheeks are pink and those eyes are so puffy
.

That’s 2:07 AM, peeps.

And that’s after an hour and a half of wakefulness. And before the NEXT hour and a half even began. I’m not talking a little groggy, whiny request for a drink or a bad dream. I’m talking a child who was WIDE, WIDE AWAKE. Ready to play, read books, go outside and as always, talk up a storm

Notice how blurry the picture of the clock is? There’s an explanation for that, too, of course.

Just as I pushed down on the camera button (because what on earth is great and wonderful middle-of-the-night family time without pictures to document it, right?) I heard John trying to quickly and urgently stop Troy from doing something.

And so I turned to look before the picture I was taking had focused.

It turns out that “something” was him dumping ALLLLL the crumbs out of that nearly-empty bag of goldfish crackers. (Affectionately called “Nemo” around here and the food of choice at any time of day. Or night.) I guess he realized there were no more whole crackers and decided the white sheets of his parents’ bed was the perfect place to, you know, double check. Fun times.

Finally, sometime between 3 and 3:30 am, he became tired (truly tired) enough to go back to bed. He slept late that morning. Till, like, 7:00. We were impressed. Ahem.

Thankfully for my new-mom-again/nursing mama state, my mother-in-love has been here for the past two and a half weeks and sweetly gets Troy out of bed in the morning, changes his diaper and gets him breakfast so I’m able to sleep a bit longer. Which is wonderful, considering that Troy has decided to make these little midnight happy times a nightly ritual the past couple nights and still thinks it acceptable to get up at 5:30 or 6:00.

There have been a couple early mornings in which John will take him downstairs, snuggle up on the couch with this toddler of ours and turns on a movie. Good father/son moments, of course. Good chance to doze for a few more minutes, too.

These days are long and tiring. And emotional for several of us. Ahem.

But, I have a feeling that in ten or twenty years (or even in a few months, when it’s just me and my li’l boys here for over a year) we’ll see captured moments like this:


And we’ll know that we were living in the Good Ol’ Days.

That’s what these are. The Good Ol’ Days.

I don’t know about you, but to this mama, that makes it all worthwhile.

Since it is now officially Christmas time…

November 23, 2007

I bring a heartwarming Christmas message from our family to yours.

Just click here.

:cough:

Ahem.