tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-73082640716337747722024-03-12T23:12:18.088-04:00Going From One To TwoMom'o2?http://www.blogger.com/profile/15544727832094530565noreply@blogger.comBlogger61125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7308264071633774772.post-71535009351367960752011-01-11T21:50:00.016-05:002011-01-12T05:56:21.605-05:00The Things I Learned On My Christmas Vacation<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_RdSbc6nCZOA/TS0jN76AA1I/AAAAAAAAAeg/aGZJgdyKgG0/s1600/SPORTSBITES_Val_Eddie%255B1%255D.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 229px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5561139837198664530" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_RdSbc6nCZOA/TS0jN76AA1I/AAAAAAAAAeg/aGZJgdyKgG0/s320/SPORTSBITES_Val_Eddie%255B1%255D.jpg" /></a><br /><div>Yes, it has officially been a <strong>WHOLE YEAR</strong> since I last blogged. Okay...so it's only been a couple of weeks...but it <strong>WAS</strong> 2010 when I wrote my last entry. So, I've finally snagged some time in between the hacking coughs of me, my husband and my two kids, to write down some interesting tidbits that have happened in the past few days/weeks, etc.</div><br /><div>These are a few of the things I've learned:</div><br /><div>1) The holidays and divorced families make for many extended journeys, tired parents, and <strong>CRAZY</strong> kids. As most parents know taking a child <strong>ANYWHERE</strong> for a prolonged period is a task. You have to basically pack everything that is in your house into your tiny car <em>(just in case you <strong>MIGHT</strong> need it</em>), drive to <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error">someone's</span> house with one kid screaming <em>(of course, it's the one in the rear facing <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error">car seat</span>, so that you have to dislocate your shoulder to try and "soothe" them)</em> and the other one <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">embarrassingly</span> glued to a portable movie device of some sort in hopes of having some semblance of a quiet ride. Then you have to unpack the car, set it up at the new house, use 0.25% of what you brought, tear it down and re-<span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-error">jenga</span> it back into the sliver of a trunk you have.<br /><br /><br /><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 214px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5561140018439939570" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_RdSbc6nCZOA/TS0jYfFSZfI/AAAAAAAAAeo/8gotwnndoqE/s320/untidycarCEN_450x300%255B1%255D.jpg" /><br />All the while crossing your fingers that the kids are so tired, since they didn't nap, didn't eat anything of nutritional value, and are <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">uncomfortable</span> in their holiday clothing <em>(As an aside - why do we find it absolutely necessary to pretend our kids are well put together during the holidays???<br /><br /></em><br /><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 276px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5561140256489003122" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_RdSbc6nCZOA/TS0jmV4m2HI/AAAAAAAAAew/GqAAD8tlcCw/s320/695px-Cranky-kids-2%255B1%255D.jpg" /><br /><strong><em>WHO ARE WE FOOLING????)</em></strong> that they fall asleep in the car<em> (but double crossing your fingers that you <strong>DON'T </strong>fall asleep at the wheel while your husband snores drunkenly in the passenger seat! )</em></div><br /><div>Lesson Learned - Keep the holiday celebrations in your own house. Mental note for next year.</div><br /><br /><div>2) Buy 2 presents for your kids. One from Santa and one from you. And screw the stockings. We had a billion things to open. One of my kid's played with the boxes while the other played with the toy that the first one got. Most gifts remain wrapped for <em>"another occasion".</em> <strong>WASTE OF TIME AND MONEY? </strong>I think so.<br /><br /><br /></div><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 228px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5561141289098603970" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_RdSbc6nCZOA/TS0kicp67cI/AAAAAAAAAfI/vyV6voOVW8E/s320/bad%2Bgift.jpg" /><br /><br /><div>3) Let people hold your kids. These are the times that someone else is willing to play with your kid for free and then pass them along to someone else who is willing to play with your kid for free. Who cares if they have mono, scarlet fever, flesh eating disease or a criminal record. Just let them play and take a moment for yourself. And your kids are gonna get sick. Period. It's that time of year. It's unavoidable.<br /></div><br /><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 244px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5561142067078178514" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_RdSbc6nCZOA/TS0lPu2tJtI/AAAAAAAAAfY/XXCVGHDOzgo/s320/bush-holding-baby.thumbnail%255B1%255D.jpg" /><br /><br /><div>4) Schedule <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_5" class="blsp-spelling-error">SCHMEDULE</span>. Not something I follow necessarily, as I'm a complete and utter anal-retentive <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_6" class="blsp-spelling-error">nut job</span>...but I think I heard those two words a hundred million times...I guess I just waited for the sugar rush to crash...and hoped that they slept through the night.</div><br /><br /><div>5) Trying to breastfeed your baby in the company of close guy friends gets old and awkward. They don't want to see your boobs. You don't want them to see your boobs. You do whatever you can do be in the same room while concealing your boobs...ugh! If I had a photo to show you of my baby buried under a pillow tent <em>(and suffocating no doubt)</em> I'd put it up...but I'll save that for my Children's Aid trial. The things we <em>(read I)</em> sacrifice for a few moments of New Years Eve socialization.<br /></div><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 299px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5561141589931933810" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RdSbc6nCZOA/TS0kz9WLQHI/AAAAAAAAAfQ/4-HAFJNXOsA/s320/Breastfeeding2%255B1%255D.jpg" /><br /><div>6) Toddler Beds are <strong>LAME</strong>. Why did I think spending money on a <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_7" class="blsp-spelling-error">stinkin</span>' plastic toddler bed was a good idea? <em>(Yes, although this has nothing to do with the holidays, it <strong>IS</strong> something that I discovered <strong>DURING </strong>the holidays, so I'm bringing it up. Bear with me here.)</em> In my attempt to make the transition from crib to big boy bed easier, my husband and I shelled out some serious cash to purchase a <strong>FIRE TRUCK</strong> toddler bed for my kid to sleep in. Granted, the transition was a piece of cake, but he <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_8" class="blsp-spelling-error">must've</span> bonked his head about a <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_9" class="blsp-spelling-error">buzillion</span> times in the one year that we had it. He's too big. He's always been too big, obviously. And now we're selling it...any takers????</div><br /><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5561142996905186178" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RdSbc6nCZOA/TS0mF2uvU4I/AAAAAAAAAfo/dW4NHMrNSWw/s320/pTRU1-2907396_alternate2_dt%255B1%255D.jpg" /><br /><br /><div>7) Solid Foods are tedious. It's been about an eon since I last fed a child pureed this and that. I'm on day 3 of rice cereal and already I want my daughter to take the spoon in her own hand and feed herself. Admittedly, she super <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_10" class="blsp-spelling-error">effin</span>' cute with a pasty rice beard...so maybe I'll hang tough. I also haven't been privy to the solid food poop yet...but I've got my smelling salts handy for that puppy.<br /></div><br /><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 214px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5561144092149909122" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_RdSbc6nCZOA/TS0nFm1bhoI/AAAAAAAAAfw/PVGHbx3WCuA/s320/IMG_7859.JPG" /><br /><br /><br /><div>8) Who ever said crying it out doesn't work is <strong>LYING.</strong> A pair of earplugs is a mother's best friend until a baby who sleeps through the night takes its place. <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_11" class="blsp-spelling-error">ZZZZZZZzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz</span></div><div></div><br /><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 159px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 171px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5561140906656299314" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RdSbc6nCZOA/TS0kML8keTI/AAAAAAAAAfA/QGyFi5ECgRE/s320/baby-crying%255B1%255D.jpg" /><br /><br /><div>9) A cleaning service is overrated. Pay someone to watch your kids and clean it yourself. It's cheaper and you'll have it cleaned the way you want it.</div><div></div><br /><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 239px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 343px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5561140472059331122" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RdSbc6nCZOA/TS0jy48lAjI/AAAAAAAAAe4/jG3nFb1p0xs/s320/annasman-744796%255B1%255D.jpg" /><br /><br /><br /><div>Needless to say, my Christmas vacation was extremely eventful and enlightening. Let's hope that 2011 brings lots of health, long sleeps and helping hands for both you AND me!!!</div><div></div><div><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 245px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5561142404645896066" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RdSbc6nCZOA/TS0ljYZHv4I/AAAAAAAAAfg/YbkBYBK009U/s320/newyear%255B1%255D.gif" /></div>Mom'o2?http://www.blogger.com/profile/15544727832094530565noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7308264071633774772.post-5156476046088992642010-12-22T14:37:00.021-05:002010-12-22T16:04:35.772-05:00Feliz Navidad and more importantly Feliz CumpleaƱos<div align="center"><br /></div><div align="left"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_RdSbc6nCZOA/TRJh0_phwFI/AAAAAAAAAeE/kLmn43vgADg/s1600/baby_santa%252CNaughty%2Bor%2BNice%255B1%255D.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 276px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5553608853567946834" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_RdSbc6nCZOA/TRJh0_phwFI/AAAAAAAAAeE/kLmn43vgADg/s320/baby_santa%252CNaughty%2Bor%2BNice%255B1%255D.jpg" /></a><br /><br /><div align="left">Good Lord. I'm pretty sure Santa is testing me this week. Now, I realize I'm spoiled, but <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error">c'mon</span>...<strong>TWO KIDS ALL WEEK LONG?</strong> No nursery school. No Nana. No nothing. Just kids all day long. How and why do you do it ladies???????????? Needless to say, the coal I get in my stocking better turn into a diamond with all the pressure I'm dealing with...hint, hint!</div><br /><div align="left"></div><br /><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 99px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 141px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5553610954358098402" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_RdSbc6nCZOA/TRJjvRs7ieI/AAAAAAAAAeM/TAC_O1vzgu0/s320/diamond-ring-white-round%255B1%255D.jpg" /><br />This week I've tried to cram as many activities as I can just to keep my kids active, busy and my mind clear of chaos, but as I've hit hump day, the weekend can't come soon enough!!!!!!!!!<br /></div><div align="center"><br /></div><div align="left">As the holidays are growing nearer and nearer, I've been thinking about another party that's coming soon. The party to celebrate my little boy turning 3. Now, I vowed to not have a proper <em>"friends"</em> party for him until he could fully enjoy himself and the atmosphere because it really does cost an arm and a leg to put one of these things on! So, I've travelled high/low/far and wide to track down the perfect venue <em>(and I thank my ladies NS and NJ and their kids for coming along for a test drive</em>). Honestly, it's not an easy feat trying to find a great space to have a party. My poor kid is saddled with the tragic winter birthday, so we can't have any backyard parties <em>(and our house is the size of a normal person's dog house)...</em>so reality set in...we gotta get outta dodge and find a place that can handled a handful of screaming preschoolers. I did some research on the <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error">internet</span> and came up with a handful in the area <em>(and some a little outside our area).</em></div><div align="center"><br /></div><div align="center"><br /></div><div align="center"><br /></div><div align="left">Who knew that narrowing down the field was going to be so hard??? Honestly what does a three year old need, right? Well, let me tell you what they need<em> (aka - here's my criteria:)</em></div><div align="center"><br /></div><div align="center"><br /></div><div align="center"><br /></div><div align="center"><strong>1) Climbing Apparatus<br /></div></strong><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 203px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5553611568136444322" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RdSbc6nCZOA/TRJkTANF2aI/AAAAAAAAAeU/wmF4YKYk6IM/s320/playarea_small%255B1%255D.jpg" />Now this gets a little complicated, because, although <strong>MOST</strong> places that I've visited had an apparatus, not all have an appropriate apparatus for a three year old. Some <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-error">apparati</span> <em>(?)</em> are a little complex/scary/tall for the average bear. And let me tell you. <strong>NO PARENT</strong> wants to climb three stories up a tight tube to get their kid down because they're too scared to go any further<br /><br /><br /><br /><div align="center"><strong>2) Bouncy Castle</strong><br /><br /></div><br /><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 222px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5553600814221882098" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RdSbc6nCZOA/TRJahCwD8vI/AAAAAAAAAdU/l0jmYDaBCAc/s320/bouncycastleTPL_468x325%255B1%255D.jpg" /><br /><br /><br /><div align="left">The most precarious of the indoor playground equipment. Kids get in there and they fall on each other, knock out each other's teeth, bash heads, etc. A recipe for disaster, you'd think? Well, you're wrong. Your party is a bust unless there's a bouncy castle. Make sure you have 9-1-1 on speed dial</div><br /><br /><div align="center"><strong>3) Ample Parking</strong></div><br /><br /><div align="center"><strong></strong></div><br /><strong><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 210px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5553601623480642290" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_RdSbc6nCZOA/TRJbQJeYqvI/AAAAAAAAAdc/yekCguREYzI/s320/pd958406%255B1%255D.jpg" /> <p align="center"><br /></strong><span style="font-size:78%;">(I'd hate to be the guy in the middle of that one...)<br /></span><br /><br /></p><div align="left">There are a lot of indoor playgrounds in the downtown core, but finding parking downtown is like finding a needle in a haystack. And trust me, lugging two kids <em>(one in a car seat that weighs a thousand pounds</em>), plus backpack, plus gift, plus whatever else one needs is a hassle. The closer you can get to the venue the better in my opinion<br /><br /></div><div align="center"><strong>4) Stuff For Babies</strong></div><br /><br /><br /><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 301px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 302px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5553602267988749618" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RdSbc6nCZOA/TRJb1qdF7TI/AAAAAAAAAdk/1Fo5djVWN6E/s320/infant_rm%255B1%255D.jpg" /><br /><br /><div align="left">I realize that it's a party for a three year old, but this three year old has a 6 month old sister, and there are lots of my three year <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-error">old's</span> friends' parents that are also in the same situation as me. It's nice to be able to <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">accommodate</span> both kids so that everyone has a good time, right?</div><br /><br /><div align="center"><strong>4) Privacy</strong></div><br /><br /><br /><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 197px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 255px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5553602977241891634" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RdSbc6nCZOA/TRJce8oOAzI/AAAAAAAAAds/KTBm_gtRgtY/s320/imagesCAHEEMRI.jpg" /><br /><br /><div align="left">So, here's the deal. It's nice to have the place to yourself, right? No one wants some wild child that you don't know coming in and spreading their germs, biting, hitting, punching, etc. It's hard enough wrangling the kids you like at a party, nonetheless trying to <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_5" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">referee</span> someone <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_6" class="blsp-spelling-error">else's</span> menace. But if you want the facility to yourself, you have to pay a premium</div><br /><br /><div align="center">5) Last, but definitely most important...</div><br /><br /><div align="center"><strong>THE <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_7" class="blsp-spelling-error">BENJAMINS</span><br /></div></strong><br /><br /><strong><br /><br /></strong><strong><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 251px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 353px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5553605723098358594" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RdSbc6nCZOA/TRJe-xvao0I/AAAAAAAAAd0/8XoZo433lG8/s320/bag_of_money%255B1%255D.png" /></strong><br /><br /><br /><div align="left">This crap costs a ton of money. Like honestly? Forget the party. I'm gonna save my cash and go on vacation for Cripes sakes! These places are ready to take your money and when I say take your money, I mean, they're gonna take your money for <strong>EVERYTHING</strong>. Paper plates/cutlery/juice...good god! There's no end to the tally!</div><p><br /><br />Now, truthfully, it's not so much about the kids, but rather about the parents. You don't want to pick a ghetto place where the parents will talk behind your back about how lame the joint is. You also don't want to pick a place that's been done before <em>(because you don't want to be copying someone <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_8" class="blsp-spelling-error">else's</span> idea) </em>and you don't want it to be an inconvenience to anyone with regards to location, because the reality is, is that it's the parents that have to drag their kids out. In the real world, I'm sure the kids would have a blast in a cardboard box...<br /><br /></p><div align="left">So last week, I thought I'd found the perfect place. It was in a reasonable spot, with ample parking. It had a climbing apparatus AND a bouncy castle and the price was right. When we got there it was clean and great, had a nice animal motif. The woman who was working there had her toddler with her, who was fearlessly climbing around without issue. <strong>THEN HE BARFED. ALL OVER EVERYTHING</strong>.... So much for avoiding the flu virus. Okay, it's a little barf. Nothing a little Lysol can't clean up...but I think the vomit tainted the experience a little bit. And my friend said she wasn't keen on the place either. Scratch that guy off the list. I think I was just desperate to make a decision.</div><br /><br /><div align="left">So, it's down to two. One place with <strong>ONLY</strong> a bouncy castle and one place with <strong>ONLY</strong> a climbing apparatus...the rest are completely out of my price range <em>(I'm<strong> NOT</strong> spending $550 for a 3 year <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_9" class="blsp-spelling-error">old's</span> birthday party - <strong>NOT INCLUDING GIFTS!).</strong></em> So, this week the final decision will be made. I'm hoping NJ will give me the go-ahead on the best of the two venues and then I have to make the dreaded deposit...<br /><br /></div><br /><div align="left"><strong>BUT,</strong> if you're an indoor playground expert, please let me know if you have any great spots that I might have missed!</div><br /><br /><br /><div align="left">And, to all of you who are celebrating the upcoming holiday, <strong>MERRY CHRISTMAS!!!!</strong> May your holidays be as <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_10" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">stress free</span> as possible and filled with many arms to help you!</div>Mom'o2?http://www.blogger.com/profile/15544727832094530565noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7308264071633774772.post-85197006963369926992010-12-14T21:17:00.012-05:002010-12-14T22:34:33.279-05:00Oops I Did It Again...??????<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_RdSbc6nCZOA/TQgzfEfgV-I/AAAAAAAAAcs/jHe3NpLyYM4/s1600/merry-christmas-from-britney-spears-kids%255B1%255D.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 182px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 296px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5550743149608982498" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_RdSbc6nCZOA/TQgzfEfgV-I/AAAAAAAAAcs/jHe3NpLyYM4/s320/merry-christmas-from-britney-spears-kids%255B1%255D.jpg" /></a><br /><div>Because my kids have decided to boycott sleep this past week. I've spent a lot of time awake in my bed thinking. And Lord knows that when you spend an <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">inordinate</span> amount of time thinking, one ends up conjuring up <strong>RIDICULOUS</strong> scenarios in their head.</div><br /><br /><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_RdSbc6nCZOA/TQg1LT8VOvI/AAAAAAAAAc8/B3euUaERfXA/s1600/jna0804l%255B1%255D.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 176px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 244px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5550745009182292722" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_RdSbc6nCZOA/TQg1LT8VOvI/AAAAAAAAAc8/B3euUaERfXA/s320/jna0804l%255B1%255D.jpg" /></a><br /><div>One night, very late into the wee hours, I felt an odd fluttering in my tummy. One that made me think back to what seems like <strong>EONS</strong> ago when I felt the first butterflies of my little fetuses <em>(or is it <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error">feti</span>?)</em> <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-error">flubbering</span> around in my <strong>ENORMOUSLY HUGE</strong> gut. Once I got that vision in my head I couldn't get it out. What if I was pregnant???? I starting thinking about why I was feeling so terribly tired these past few days...and crap, didn't I feel a bit nauseous on Friday in the morning when I woke up? Maybe I was being so <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">monstrous</span> this past week because my hormones were all outta whack? Is that why I didn't lose any weight this past week? Am I going to have to change the name of my blog???<br /><br /></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div> </div><div> </div><div> </div><div>And more importantly, will I have the dreaded toilet baby because I think I've gotta take a crap, but really I'm in labour????<br /></div><div></div><div></div><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 224px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5550745663760094178" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_RdSbc6nCZOA/TQg1xab10-I/AAAAAAAAAdE/-QoPiQ-BXc8/s320/Baby-Toilet-Bath%255B1%255D.jpg" /><br /><br /><br /><div align="center"><strong><span style="font-size:180%;color:#ff0000;"><br />OH NO! WHAT HAVE WE DONE????????????????????????<br /></span><br /></strong><br /><br /></div><br /><br /><div><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_RdSbc6nCZOA/TQgz0_QtWKI/AAAAAAAAAc0/Nu8wAZaF3nU/s1600/clown-car1%255B1%255D.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 322px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 310px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5550743526161864866" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_RdSbc6nCZOA/TQgz0_QtWKI/AAAAAAAAAc0/Nu8wAZaF3nU/s320/clown-car1%255B1%255D.jpg" /></a>Then I started thinking about what would happen if I really was pregnant. I'm having a difficult enough time with two. Imagine throwing another one in the mix...If I was truly pregnant and I was feeling it move, I was probably just into my second trimester, which means the baby would be coming in another 5 1/2 months. I knew that <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" class="blsp-spelling-error">stinkin</span>' 6 week gynecological check up was going to be the death of me. If this new baby was that far along, my little girl would not even be a year old when this new one came. My pulse started racing. My breathing starting to quicken...and I started feeling sick to my stomach...wait a minute...maybe that was morning sickness..........</div><br /><br /><br /><br /><div></div><br /><div align="center"><strong><span style="color:#ff0000;">WHY DIDN'T I GET MY TUBES TIED WHEN I HAD THE CHANCE????????????????</span></strong></div><br /><br /><div>Then I got up, rocked my little girl back to sleep, took a deep breath and really analyzed the situation. Okay, dude. Let's think rationally... you had broccoli and cauliflower for dinner <em>(a recipe for gas), </em>you're tired because you have had 13 hours sleep in the past 6 days<em> (which also explains the irrational thinking</em>), you feel sick to your stomach because you're overtired and you've gained weight because you've been eating pound cake and chips and dip at a breakneck pace. Good grief! Get that silly thought out of your head!</div><br /><br /><div>But really, how does a nursing mom know if she's pregnant? What are the tell tale signs???? It's no wonder there are countless episodes of <em>"I Didn't Know I Was Pregnant".</em> Wait a minute. Don't tell me. I don't need my mind to go off the rails again after I've talked myself off that ledge.</div><br /><br /><div>So, I crossed <em>"pregnancy test"</em> off my shopping list and let out a big sigh of relief. I'm just being a lunatic. If I pretend it's not happening, it won't right???????</div>Mom'o2?http://www.blogger.com/profile/15544727832094530565noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7308264071633774772.post-46173630578074464492010-12-06T22:38:00.011-05:002010-12-08T21:19:45.021-05:00Is He Just A Jealous Guy?<div><div><div><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_RdSbc6nCZOA/TQA1l4b33MI/AAAAAAAAAcM/Z_mRg-e84Ek/s1600/monster19%255B1%255D.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 250px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 200px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5548493665841175746" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_RdSbc6nCZOA/TQA1l4b33MI/AAAAAAAAAcM/Z_mRg-e84Ek/s320/monster19%255B1%255D.jpg" /></a><br /><div>Good grief. One would think that as your child gets older and more <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">independent</span>, they become a little less difficult to deal with...That's obviously not the case in my house. My child is giving me trouble like it was his middle name. </div><br /><br /><div>I can't say when this behaviour started, but it's clearly more than just a phase <em>(or at least I think that's the case).</em> My son has always been ultra sensitive to sound. When we brought him home from the hospital, he used to scream if I sneezed while nursing him. He gets upset if someone with a deep voice speaks to him. If someone laughs loudly he has a fit. A dog barking drives him to tears <em>(even if the dog is in a yard on another street).</em> Nursery school is also starting to become a point of anxiety for him because one of the kid's in his class still cries when he's being dropped off. This child's crying has become contagious, and my Melancholy Pauly <em>(as we like to call him)</em> has taken it upon himself to not let that kid feel left out. Once the crying starts, it's extremely difficult to stop. </div><br /><div></div><br /><div>My son is also starting to find things extremely <strong><em>"SCARY".</em></strong> I'm not 100% sure he has a grasp on the true meaning of the word, but things he's read or watched a million times without issue are now <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">debilitating</span> frightening to him. And it's not like I'm letting him watch the Texas Chainsaw Massacre...I'm talking about Elmo's World and Toy Story...</div><br /><br /><div>In addition to this sensitivity, my son has moved himself into Tantrum City, where's he elected himself Mayor. If my daughter screams, he has to scream. If he doesn't get his way he's throwing toys and hitting the walls, himself and me. </div><br /><br /><div>There are so many reasons why he <strong>MAY</strong> be doing this...but it's proving difficult to actually pinpoint the cause.</div><br /><br /><div>1) He is a <em>"spirited"</em> child. <strong>GAWD.</strong> This term is one of my pet peeves. When did it become politically incorrect to say that your kid is a handful? Like other parents don't get it? Are you a bad mom or dad if your kid is a whirling dervish? Why can't you just call a spade a spade and say your kid acts like a brat sometimes? Why do we have to make a silly, flowery sounding nickname for it? Well, my child is showing his true colours. He has always been a <em>"sensitive"</em> guy so it's in his nature, but is this the only reason he's giving me grief?</div><br /><br /><br /><div>2) He is not the only child any more. Okay, it's been five months since we brought our little lady home from the hospital. Is my son only <strong>NOW</strong> realizing that this kid isn't going back to the hospital? <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">Our</span> attention could now be spread a little too thin for his liking...so he's acting up in hopes that any attention <em>(even if it's bad attention)</em> is better than no attention at all. Has he now decided to put his foot down and make a statement?</div><div> </div><div> </div><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 236px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 179px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5548497491550089954" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RdSbc6nCZOA/TQA5EkT9MuI/AAAAAAAAAcc/Djt_8QxprsU/s320/jealousy-fighting%255B1%255D.gif" /><br /><br /><br /><div>3) He has a mental issue. Okay, this is probably the least likely of the reasons...but there is always that potential that maybe my kid is following in the footsteps of Steve Martin's character's eldest child in the film Parenthood. You remember that kid right? The one who had a nervous breakdown when someone looked in his direction? Is that my kid? Sir Anxious-A-Lot?</div><br /><br /><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 229px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5548497192135757586" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RdSbc6nCZOA/TQA4zI6BDxI/AAAAAAAAAcU/_SErTn9vg38/s320/gal_parenthood9%255B1%255D.jpg" /><br /><br /><br /><div></div><br />4) He's two and this is what the terrible twos are about.</div><br /><div></div><br /><div>5) And the most likely of them all...it's a combination of all of the above.<br /><br /><br /><br /><div>I'm a firm believer in nipping naughty behaviour in the bud. I've tried reasoning with him, but really...he's just a preschooler, does he get it? I've tried the naughty chair, I've tried acknowledging his feelings, I'<span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error">ve</span> tried ignoring his feelings. I've tried distracting him and I've tried removing myself from the tantrum. I'm not sure what else there is to be done????<br /><br /></div><br /><div>Now, don't get me wrong. My kid has a heart of gold, and there are many times when it's a complete and utter joy to hang out with him. When he's having a good day, he's a blast. He's smart, hilariously funny and very imaginative. I don't want to sound like I'm down on him, because I love him desperately, but as most mother's know...even the easiest child is a terror on a bad day. </div><br /><div></div><br /><div>So, this could all just be a phase that he outgrows, but I have to figure out a way to maintain my composure after being tested time and time again. A woman can only be slapped across the face so many times without losing her composure. My patience is growing thin as you can well imagine, and it's extremely difficult to devote one-on-one time to him when our time together is spent butting heads. I'm hoping that there are veteran moms out there that can shed some light on the situation and give me advice on how to not turn into a <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-error"><span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error">trantrumming</span></span> 3<span id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" class="blsp-spelling-error">o something</span>....</div><br />Upon the suggestion of a couple of moms out there, I've taken him to a doctor to see if it might be a hearing issue that is rendering him so sensitive to sound. The pediatrician has assured me that it isn't the case with my son, and rather it's more than likely either a means to get attention or it's a behavioural issue. She's recommended that I read a book called <em>"The Spirited Child"</em> <strong><em>(HONESTLY???? I HATE THE BOOK ON PRINCIPAL AT THIS POINT)</em></strong> and has sent a referral out to an anxiety clinic at Sick Kids. She's also suggested looking into a pediatrician that specializes in behavioural issues, just to pinpoint the problem. </div><br /><br /><div>I feel like I'm totally <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-error">overanalyzing</span> this whole situation and maybe I'm being extreme. But my fear is that if we don't figure out the problems now, they will only escalate and if my 3 year old is melancholy now, who knows what he'll be like once he discovers <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-error">Morrissey</span> as a teenager...UGH!<br /></div><br /><div><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 188px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5548500563567681762" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_RdSbc6nCZOA/TQA73YeBoOI/AAAAAAAAAck/g_rtK9m84uc/s320/Hey_goth_kid__why_so_sad_%255B1%255D.jpg" /><br /></div><div>I'm hoping that the lessons learned during this stage will help to prepare me for the days to come. They will, right? It's gonna get easier, right? <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_5" class="blsp-spelling-error"><span id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" class="blsp-spelling-error">C'mon</span></span></div><div><br /><br /> </div><div align="center"><span style="font-size:78%;">I'm writing this really small in hopes that you can't read it. The week has been terrible. I blame it completely on the stress I've been dealing with...I've gained some weight this week...ugh. And the holidays haven't even started yet.</span></div><br /><div><br /> </div><div align="center"><span style="font-size:78%;">This week I weight 139.8 lbs. Tragic.</span></div><div><br /> </div><div></div></div></div>Mom'o2?http://www.blogger.com/profile/15544727832094530565noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7308264071633774772.post-10238369264016011302010-11-27T20:32:00.016-05:002010-11-29T03:16:09.029-05:00All For Moms and Moms For All!<div align="center"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_RdSbc6nCZOA/TPMHe1h6WaI/AAAAAAAAAbU/zIigr5TQ_Zc/s1600/women%2Bunite.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 188px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 247px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5544783792569997730" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_RdSbc6nCZOA/TPMHe1h6WaI/AAAAAAAAAbU/zIigr5TQ_Zc/s320/women%2Bunite.jpg" /></a><br /><div align="left">Why is it that mothers who feed their babies formula <em>(whether it be for every feed or just supplementing)</em> feel like they have to justify their choice? I feel like when I'm in the company of other women with infants they feel the need to explain why they're pulling out the bottle and the powder.<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_RdSbc6nCZOA/TPMLf6Iu2CI/AAAAAAAAAbk/VGITQigaljA/s1600/boob%2Bvs%2Bbottle.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 241px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 199px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5544788209032943650" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_RdSbc6nCZOA/TPMLf6Iu2CI/AAAAAAAAAbk/VGITQigaljA/s320/boob%2Bvs%2Bbottle.jpg" /></a> I'm 100% positive that it's not just me they spill their story to. Why is it that in this day in age, a full grown woman can't feel <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error">assured that</span> their choice is exactly that. <strong>THEIR OWN!</strong> Now, don't get all high and mighty on me...I totally understand the benefits of breastmilk. My first child was breastfed exclusively until he was 7 months old, and then I had to supplement because he got distracted by a particle of dust flying through the air and couldn't sit still long enough to empty a boob. I have friends who exclusively breastfeed their children, I have friends that do half and half, I have friends who just top up with formula and I have friends who rely solely on that tin can. I find, though, that because I breastfeed my kids <em>(thankfully only one kid at present...), </em>women feel that they need to explain why they're giving their own child formula.<br /><br /></div><div align="left"></div><div align="left">I know there are people out there that are crazy militant breast feeding mommas <em>(and kudos to you - because I get it! <strong>Breastmilk RULES!</strong>) </div></em><br /><br /><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 179px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 188px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5544787939582848130" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RdSbc6nCZOA/TPMLQOW0rII/AAAAAAAAAbc/NwXyWNSxiIs/s320/bf_cult3%255B1%255D.jpg" /><br />But really?...<strong>WHO CARES???? </strong></div><br /><br /><strong></strong><br /><br /><br /><strong><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 99px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5544788722542741778" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_RdSbc6nCZOA/TPML9zHAiRI/AAAAAAAAAb8/dmssBME4lIg/s320/fearless%2Bformula.jpg" /></strong><br />Is one child weaker than the other? Is one child smarter than the other? Is one child more sickly than another? <strong><span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error"><span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error">HELLZ</span></span> NO!</strong> I am a pe<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RdSbc6nCZOA/TPMLqYiPR9I/AAAAAAAAAbs/27a5RCUz2cc/s1600/bottlevsbreast%255B1%255D.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 198px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5544788388991682514" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RdSbc6nCZOA/TPMLqYiPR9I/AAAAAAAAAbs/27a5RCUz2cc/s320/bottlevsbreast%255B1%255D.jpg" /></a>rfect example of this. When I was born, it was fashionable to feed your baby formula. All the cool moms were doing it. Breastfeeding was <strong>SO</strong> 1960s. Now, in hindsight, did I pay the price for that terrible powder? Do I have a low I.Q? Last time I checked it was in the 130s <em>(and I don't need any comments from the peanut gallery</em>...). Have I ever had a serious illness? Never. I've never been hospitalized, and have always been in exceptional health. My blood work is impeccable. And can you believe it? I'm still alive?? <strong>GASP!</strong> I know. It's hard to believe! I can hear good <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error">ol</span>' Gisele <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-error">tisk</span> <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-error">tisking</span> me already, cuz you know...Breastfeeding, in her opinion, should be <strong>THE LAW!<br /><br /></strong><br /><br /><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RdSbc6nCZOA/TPMMWHIGkYI/AAAAAAAAAcE/0hoSP4nQLD0/s1600/posterunclesam%255B1%255D.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 170px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 176px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5544789140232900994" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RdSbc6nCZOA/TPMMWHIGkYI/AAAAAAAAAcE/0hoSP4nQLD0/s320/posterunclesam%255B1%255D.jpg" /></a>My son, as I mentioned before....was breastfed exclusively until he was seven months old. He has, as you know, <strong>MANY</strong> <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-error"><span id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" class="blsp-spelling-error">intolerances</span></span> to food and suffers from mild <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">eczema</span>. Now my son is also a genius<em> (okay, so I'm a little biased...)...</em>Is it because he got the liquid gold when he was a baby? Or perhaps it's genetic? <strong>WHO KNOWS????</strong> I do know this, though. There is research out there that shows that infants benefit from <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">breastmilk</span>. <strong>ALL MOMS KNOW THIS INFORMATION.</strong> And when you take your prenatal courses, they tell you that. <strong>AND</strong> when you're bringing your baby into this world, the nurses reiterate this information to you. But I can tell you this - Most moms are adults. And can make choices on their own without feeling the wrath of the public.<br /><br /><br /><br /><span id="SPELLING_ERROR_5" class="blsp-spelling-error"><span style="color:#ffffff;"><span style="color:#000000;">Now, I don't know about you, but I'm not</span> </span>Kreskin</span>. I can't magically understand every woman's choice. I can't read all mothers' minds. And I most certainly don't know the reasoning behind <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_5" class="blsp-spelling-error"><span id="SPELLING_ERROR_6" class="blsp-spelling-error">someone's</span></span> personal choice when it comes to feeding their child. Who knows if the mother with the formula has a medical condition, has had breast surgery or is on medication. That mother may have tried and tried and tried and tried and tried to breastfeed but they couldn't produce milk, or heck...maybe they just chose the formula route because they weren't comfortable with breastfeeding. I can tell you this. All women who feed their child formula feel mildly stigmatized for doing so. And because of this feel the need to constantly inform those leering eyes why they made their choice.<br /><br /><br />Whatever the reason, is it really up to us to judge? Isn't it hard enough to be a parent? Don't we all feel guilty with the choices we make...being too strict, being too lenient, giving our kids candy, or convenience food, making food from scratch vs. jarred, the list goes on and on <strong>AND </strong>on...Do we really need to start off our journey to parenthood feeling like we have to justify everything??<br /><br />Now, if you're like me, when you're a <em>"non-parent"</em> you create a mental list of things you'll <strong>NEVER</strong> do when you have kids. I guarantee that by the end of year one as a mommy or daddy, you've done many-a-thing on that <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_6" class="blsp-spelling-error"><span id="SPELLING_ERROR_7" class="blsp-spelling-error">stinkin</span></span>' list <strong>AT LEAST ONE TIME</strong>. As a mother, we should help our fellow parents out. Give them advice <em><strong>(BUT ONLY IF THEY ASK)</strong></em> and accept <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_7" class="blsp-spelling-error"><span id="SPELLING_ERROR_8" class="blsp-spelling-error">everyone's</span></span> choices, whether you follow them yourself or not. We are all gonna fall off that perfect parent horse at some point, and let's hope that we have other parents out there who will help us brush the dust off us and get back on that stallion.<br /><br />So, for all of my friends out there who have chosen the bottle over the breast <em>(for whatever reason)...</em>ladies <em>(and gentlemen)</em> you have to do what's best for your family. And no one knows what's best for that group except for you. I say this as I prepare myself for some nasty hate-mail....<strong>ALL YOU NEED IS LOVE??? LOVE IS ALL YOU NEED?<br /></strong><br /><strong></strong><br /><div align="center"><em>PS - I weigh 139.4 lbs. Phew! What a relief.</em></div>Mom'o2?http://www.blogger.com/profile/15544727832094530565noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7308264071633774772.post-81682926885302849042010-11-20T22:08:00.011-05:002010-11-20T23:27:25.248-05:00The Politics Of Motherhood<p> </p><p align="left"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RdSbc6nCZOA/TOie7m4Tp4I/AAAAAAAAAbM/spYFcoXrpZI/s1600/poeu1ydg4gvzcr%255B1%255D.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 263px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 184px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5541854088365582210" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RdSbc6nCZOA/TOie7m4Tp4I/AAAAAAAAAbM/spYFcoXrpZI/s320/poeu1ydg4gvzcr%255B1%255D.jpg" /></a></p><p align="left"> </p><p align="left">Ah...they warned me. They really did! But it's taken <strong>THIS</strong> long for me to fully understand what they meant. Maybe it's because I'm not the most social person in the world and I <strong>HATE</strong> socializing with people, for the most part, so my exposure to other mothers is limited to friends whose company I enjoy. But as my son gets older and interacts more with kids in the neighbourhood, at the playground, at school and out and about, I'm slowly learning how to bite my tongue...sometimes...</p><p align="left"><br /> </p><p align="left">Here's an example: over the past few weeks my children and I have been on an indoor playground adventure, which entails carting my poor kids from place to place all in search of finding the perfect venue for my son's third birthday party...<strong>ANOTHER STORY ENTIRELY</strong>...Now, at the last locale there were a handful of different families, moms chatting to other moms and kids running wild. Well...what would I expect, right? That's the whole purpose of an indoor playground...<strong><span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error">SHEESH</span>!</strong> So, my son starts ripping around the place, going from bouncy castle to climbing apparatus to slide and back again. <em>" I love this!"</em> I think to myself, <em>"My kid is burning off energy in a safe place. <strong>WICKED</strong>!".</em> Then a little boy runs up to him and asks him his name. <em>"This is amazing!"</em> I thought, <em>"Not only is my dude getting some exercise, but he's making friends too! This was a great idea on my part! Kudos to me!"</em> So, my son and this little boy, who tells me he's almost four, start running after each other, and climb into the bouncy castle. I stand back and watch in awe. The older kid turns from angel into devil in a mere <a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RdSbc6nCZOA/TOid9sWbM5I/AAAAAAAAAa0/7m5v9iEpCow/s1600/bully%255B1%255D.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 126px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 150px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5541853024682193810" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RdSbc6nCZOA/TOid9sWbM5I/AAAAAAAAAa0/7m5v9iEpCow/s320/bully%255B1%255D.jpg" /></a>moment, and essentially clotheslines my guy. He then climbs on top of him like he's in the <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error">WWF</span> <em>(yes, I know, I'm old school. It will never be the <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-error">WWE</span> to me...get over it!).</em> I watch to see how my kid deals with it...but he just stares at me wide eyed and starts to cry. Granted, my kid is <strong>ULTRA SENSITIVE</strong>, and cries at the drop of a hat, whether it be a loud noise, a dog barking or mean look. Again, a completely different story to be saved for another day. So, I stepped in and said<em> "<span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-error">Bubz</span>, if you don't like to be jumped on, just say "No Thank You.""</em> What could I really do? It's not my responsibility to discipline someone <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" class="blsp-spelling-error">else's</span> kid, right? </p><p align="left"><br /><br /> </p><p align="left">So, my son got over it and they started chasing each other around again. Then the kid tripped mine on the bridge on the climbing apparatus. My guy said <em>"No pushing".</em> <em>"Okay,"</em> I thought, <em>"He's asserting himself".</em> I continue to follow because this is seemingly turning into a bit of a bully match. Then my dude picks up a basketball to throw it in a small net. The other kid grabs the ball out of his hands and whips it at my son's head. Now I'm starting to get angry. My kid isn't there as a punching bag for some mangy four <a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_RdSbc6nCZOA/TOidwpS094I/AAAAAAAAAas/YFnjW0fjwQg/s1600/adult%252520bully%255B1%255D.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 256px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5541852800523499394" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_RdSbc6nCZOA/TOidwpS094I/AAAAAAAAAas/YFnjW0fjwQg/s320/adult%252520bully%255B1%255D.jpg" /></a>year old. I look around to find his mother to see if she's going to start disciplining her kid...but of course, she's <strong>NOWHERE TO BE SEEN.</strong> So, now I'm on a mission. I have a child who's bawling and a four month old clinging for her life and I'm marching around like a bat outta hell around trying to find this negligent mother. I could hardly believe my eyes. She was actually in a completely other room socializing with another mother. And when I say another room, I mean a room with a door and zero visibility into the adjacent playroom. Her kid could be trapped in between to rocks chewing his arm off at this point and she would have <strong>NO CLUE.</strong> Before I fly into the room I stop myself...and actually think about what I'm about to do. What are my options 1) Forget the mom and tell the kid off directly 2) Leave the playground 3) Be a tattletale to the kid's mom or, if you know me, the more likely of all my options 4) Put a curse on the kid and beat up the mom...</p><p align="left"><br /><br /><br /> </p><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 281px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 179px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5541853421211749938" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RdSbc6nCZOA/TOieUxicDjI/AAAAAAAAAa8/h2bPjcsMEVc/s320/imagesCAY0ME1L.jpg" /><br />I figured the most appropriate of my choices was to tell the kid, in as nicely a way as I could muster, that it wasn't nice to push or hit other kids. Mostly because I was afraid to speak to the <a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RdSbc6nCZOA/TOieo6wO5CI/AAAAAAAAAbE/OeFE7TgNNjI/s1600/Mom_Breaking_Up_a_Fight_Between_Two_Little_Boys_Royalty_Free_Clipart_Picture_100325-141874-887042%255B1%255D.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 300px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 225px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5541853767282910242" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RdSbc6nCZOA/TOieo6wO5CI/AAAAAAAAAbE/OeFE7TgNNjI/s320/Mom_Breaking_Up_a_Fight_Between_Two_Little_Boys_Royalty_Free_Clipart_Picture_100325-141874-887042%255B1%255D.jpg" /></a>mom directly...yes, I'm chicken. I'm all bark with <strong>ZERO</strong> bite. Anyway, the kid looked at me like I was speaking Hungarian. So, I decided to take matters into my own hands. I pulled my son off to the side and said <em>"If that kid hits you again, hit him back".</em> <strong>GASP!</strong> Oh no I didn't. Um, oh yes I did! I am so tired of kids getting away with that kind of behaviour. If my child <strong>EVER</strong> pushed, hit, or bullied another kid, you were be sure that I would be on him like white on rice. Although in my mind I love that kind of behaviour, in reality I do <strong>NOT </strong>tolerate that kind of behaviour. Perhaps I'm overly strict, but I want to be sure that my child understands that a kind person is the best kind of person. <em>(One day I'll heed my own advice....<strong>ONE DAY</strong>....)</em> I'm sure there have been many an occasion where my child has hit or pushed another, and if I did not act, it was because I didn't see it. <strong>PLEASE</strong> always let me know if my child steps out of line <strong>OR</strong> feel free to discipline him...<br /><br /><br />Now, because I'm not familiar with these situations, I'm not sure how to broach that kind of subject with another child's mother. I also lack the <em>"think before you speak"</em> filter which inevitably gets me in trouble. And Lord knows that mothers get <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_5" class="blsp-spelling-error">UBER</span> defensive about their kids. There are mothers out there that feel the only person who should discipline their child is <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_6" class="blsp-spelling-error"><strong>THEM</strong></span>. Fair enough. I get it. I also imagine that there are mothers out there who wouldn't take kindly to having their child's bad behaviour pointed out to them. Again, to each his own, right? I have also witnessed mothers who have varying ideas of what discipline is. And then there are those who believe you have to let your child express <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_7" class="blsp-spelling-error">his or herself</span> in whatever manner they choose. <strong>THIS I DON'T GET.</strong> And this is where the politics come in...what's a mother to do? When is it considered crossing the line? What's the proper etiquette in these kinds of situations???? What do <strong>YOU</strong> do in these sorts of situations? Is there a different way to speak to someone you know and see often versus someone who you'll never see again? I need advice, as I gather this mother to mother interaction is only going to become more frequent as the years go on...Before I get all rageorific, S-O-S!<br /><br /><br /><br />Now, I know I've taken some liberties in my weight loss challenge. Like, I decided that last week, I should <strong>NOT </strong>weigh myself...for fear of what the scale would read. So it's been SEVERAL weeks since my last weigh-in and I've definitely not been paying much attention to what I eat or how much I've been exercising. Yeah, yeah...You've heard it all before. here's the deal:<br /><br /><br /><div align="center"><span style="color:#cc33cc;">Starting Weight: 148.8 lbs</span></div><br /><div align="center"><span style="color:#cc33cc;">Last Weight: 142.4 lbs<br /></span><br /><span style="color:#cc33cc;">This Week: 140.8 lbs<br /><br /></span><span style="color:#cc33cc;">Goal Weight: 130 lbs<br /></span><span style="color:#cc33cc;"><br />Dream Weight: 125 lbs</span></div><p align="left"> </p><p align="left">Will this coming week be the week that I actually break into the 130s???? I'm not holding my breath, but there is that SLIGHT possibility, right?</p><p align="left"><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /> </p>Mom'o2?http://www.blogger.com/profile/15544727832094530565noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7308264071633774772.post-62656351428361548672010-11-07T10:06:00.008-05:002010-11-07T10:47:25.079-05:00Hi Ho, Hi Ho, It's Off To The Hospital We Go...Yesterday was quite possibly the worst day of my life. It started off great. I got lots of work done around the house: laundry, painting... but it all went down hill very quickly. We were expecting some friends over for dinner and when our first guest arrived<em> (after a long flight across the country)</em> our eldest decided to show off by jumping on the couch. I'm sure you can see where this is going already, right? Granted, it was totally my fault, because in preparation for our guests, I moved my son's naughty chair from it's designated corner in the dining room, to an empty space conveniently next to the couch. Easy access, right? I didn't even think about the damage that might ensue. Anyway, after several warnings to my son to be careful on the couch, I tended to our guest. As soon as I turned my back away I heard a <strong>THUMP</strong> and a cry.<br /><br /><div><div></div><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 143px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 144px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5536829659292717522" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_RdSbc6nCZOA/TNbFPV_9UdI/AAAAAAAAAac/4eILs8yhmHE/s320/bonk_head_hat-p148021864270921691t5k8_210%5B1%5D.jpg" /><br /><br /><div>My son was on this back <em>(on the hardwood, of course)</em> screaming. I immediately ran and picked him up and put him on my lap. I wanted to see if he was bleeding or bruised anywhere. My son is a <strong>BIG</strong> head <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error">bonker</span>. He does it all the time without issue. This time, however, it was very different. As soon as I picked my son up, his body tensed, he made a low groan, and then started to have a seizure. I immediately screamed for my husband to call 9-1-1...and he approached me <em>(this part I don't remember...)</em> and as he approached me to find out what happened, I wound my arm up to slap him. I guess he wasn't calling 9-1-1 fasted enough and I felt I needed to slap some sense into him??? By the time my husband had made his way over to us, my son has stopped <em>"seizing",</em> and was conscious, but definitely out of sorts. The ambulance came shortly thereafter and did a preliminary scan, making sure he didn't have any neck or back injuries. Then they said, <em>"we're gonna have to take him to the hospital just to be sure everything is okay</em>".</div><br /><br /><div>Now, this is not my son's first trip to the <a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_RdSbc6nCZOA/TNbFZkVYaII/AAAAAAAAAak/wixpB1NToqQ/s1600/childrens%2520headache%5B1%5D.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5536829834939361410" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_RdSbc6nCZOA/TNbFZkVYaII/AAAAAAAAAak/wixpB1NToqQ/s320/childrens%2520headache%5B1%5D.jpg" /></a>emergency room. When he was four months old, he flung himself off the change table and again, landed on the hard wood. I knew the drill. Head injury = emergency room. My son was, at first, a little skeptical about the trip in the ambulance. The attendants strapped his <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">car seat</span> on to the gurney in the back and kept a close watch on my son as we made the trip to the hospital. No siren, much to my son's chagrin. Thankfully, as we left our guests behind at our house, the trip to the emergency room was extremely short and painless. The doctor checked for internal bleeding and any bumps - neither which he had and said that he was good to go. I guess he thought the concussion was mild, so I wouldn't need to wake him up every couple of hours in the middle of the night and that was that. </div><br /><br /><br /><div>My son was most <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">perturbed</span> that the ambulance wasn't going to take him back to his house and he had to be schlepped back home in our stinky <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-error">ol</span>' car but all that really mattered was that he was okay. There's nothing more scary than a) having your child hit their head b) having your child have a seizure c) having your child feel like a wet noodle as you carry them around. Thankfully all is well.</div><br /><br /><div>When we returned, our gracious guests had dinner ready on the table for us! <em>(Thanks guys!)</em> I guess, although it wasn't initially in their plans, it wasn't just a typical Saturday night for them either, right?</div><br /><br /><div>As an aside, I checked my son several times in the middle of the night for fear that he might not be as okay as the doctor expected. I had thoughts of strokes and other things of the sort. Thankfully when he woke up this morning he was a-okay and ready for some more couch jumping.</div><br /><br /><div>So kids, what have we learned from this here lesson?</div><br /><div>1) Don't let your kids jump on the couch</div><div>2) Don't put any sort of climbing apparatus near the couch to encourage said couch jumping</div><div>3) If someone in your house asks you to call 9-1-1, don't ask questions, just <strong>DO IT</strong> for fear of getting slapped</div><br /><div>PS - I just realized that I'm quite possibly the <strong>WORST</strong> story telling in the history of story-telling. Let me address the seizure bit...which was a heavy concern of mine and I'm not sure why I didn't mention the reasoning behind it when I originally posted this...</div><div> </div><div>The episode is called <a href="http://findarticles.com/p/articles/mi_m0816/is_4_20/ai_95204678/">"post-concussive seizure"</a> and the ambulance attendant assured me that it was just my son's body's way of dealing with the trauma, and that it wouldn't affect him in the long-term. Phew. Now back to our regularly scheduled programming.</div></div>Mom'o2?http://www.blogger.com/profile/15544727832094530565noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7308264071633774772.post-80329868246632939462010-11-03T08:40:00.012-04:002010-11-03T09:20:59.979-04:00Sick and Tired<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RdSbc6nCZOA/TNFgYtrKxwI/AAAAAAAAAaU/Xqr7msBWoOU/s1600/PunchTheClock1-300x230%5B1%5D.jpg"></a><br /><div><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 160px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 185px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5535311175877348770" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RdSbc6nCZOA/TNFgL-drTaI/AAAAAAAAAaM/Xy4WmpZf6Ng/s320/0511-0810-2315-2020_Sick_Mom_clipart_image%5B1%5D.jpg" />So, as I went to bed last night, I started to wonder who it was that I needed to contact in the morning so that I could call in sick. Then I remembered...my house doesn't have a Human Resources department. There's no sick day policy that comes with being a stay-at-home mom. When you're sick at this job, you've gotta tough it out. As my youngest woke up every two hours last night and my throat burned and burned, I realized that the rest that one needs when they're sick was not in my cards, so I started to daydream <em>(thankfully my husband took care of the baby)...</em>If I were at work, I would be entitled to 1 sick day a month. Now that means that <strong>IF</strong> I worked 35 hours a week multiplied by 4 weeks, it would be 1 sick day per 140 hours. </div><br /><div></div><br /><div></div><div>Okay, so <strong>IF</strong> I were paid to be a stay at home mom, my hours worked would be <em>(on average)</em> 16 hours a day <em>(plus nights like last night where I was working overtime).</em> So 16 hours/day x 7 days x 4 weeks is equal to 448 hours a month, which means <strong>IF</strong> there was a Human Resources department at my <em>"work"</em> I would be entitled to 3.2 sick days a month. Wouldn't that be nice? A full 3 days a month of no kids? No whining? No crying? No "<span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error">No'ing</span>"? No making dinner? A girl can dream right???</div><br /><div><br /><div><div>So what is a stay-at-home mom to do when she's as sick as a dog and has a very active <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error">pre</span>-<span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-error">schooler</span> and a 4 month old at home to watch? The answer, for me anyway...is <strong>TELEVISION</strong>. Now, I know I've just heard a multitude of you gasp <em>(and I can just picture my favourite nemesis Gisele wagging her finger at me)...</em>but honestly...what is the alternative? I can barely swallow. I'm hot and then I'm cold. My body aches. I know I should just suck it up and take the kids to the park....but I'm not going to. I'm going to open up the pull-out couch in the basement, grab all the pillows, a large glass of water for me, a <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-error">sippy</span> cup and snacks for my son and my remote controls. I'll bundle up my kids, sit them on the couch with me and turn on the <strong>TELEVISION</strong>. I've got movies...and lots of them <em>(one of the benefits of having a husband that works in the film industry)...</em>and we're gonna watch them. <strong>ALL OF THEM</strong> if we need to.</div><div></div><div><br />I know it's the easy way out, but I'm entitled to have <strong>ONE</strong> easy day, no? Can I be a little selfish on a day where a normal human being can stay at home, bundled in their warm, cozy bed with a nice cup of tea <em>(no hot beverages in bed with two little ones)</em> and hop themselves up on cold medication <em>(another luxury a non-breastfeeding person has)</em> and sleep and sleep and sleep? A day when a sick person would normally get to stay home and watch torrid television a la Maury <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" class="blsp-spelling-error">Povich</span> or a scary/violent/adult themed movie they've taken out of the library<em> (not gonna happen with a two and a half year old)? </em>So, sitting cuddled up to my two kids watching Toy Story over and over and over seems like the best alternative...and I'm not gonna feel bad about it.<br /><br /><br /></div><div></div><div align="center"><strong>TO INFINITY AND BEYOND!<br /></strong></div><div><br /></div><div>I'm a day late with my weigh in, but here it is nonetheless:</div><div align="center"><br /><span style="color:#cc33cc;">Starting Weight: 148.8 lbs<br /><br /></div></span><div align="center"><span style="color:#cc33cc;"></span></div><div align="center"><span style="color:#cc33cc;">Current Weight: 142.4 lbs<br /></span></div><div align="center"><span style="color:#cc33cc;"></span></div><div align="center"><span style="color:#cc33cc;"><br />Goal Weight: 130 lbs<br /><br />Dream Weight: 125 lbs</span></div><div><br /><br />I seem to have lost a little bit of weight this week. Nothing to write home about, but I suppose it's better than gaining it right? The best part of this week was walking into my local library and having the attendant tell me that I've lost <strong>SO MUCH WEIGHT</strong> and <strong>I LOOK GREAT</strong> <em>(these words will be burned into my mind forever!). </em>So, I decided to reward myself and eat<strong> FOUR</strong> <em>(yes <strong>FOUR!)</strong></em> cupcakes <em>(<span id="SPELLING_ERROR_5" class="blsp-spelling-error">unfrosted</span>, of course...I'm not a heathen!!!!).</em> Needless to say I'm planning on staying away from the scales until weigh-in next week. Especially when there are more cupcakes to be had and <strong>NO EXERCISE IN MY FUTURE</strong>. Oh well...</div></div></div>Mom'o2?http://www.blogger.com/profile/15544727832094530565noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7308264071633774772.post-53912323523437339232010-10-26T20:47:00.008-04:002010-10-26T21:48:49.888-04:00C'est L'Halloween, HEY!<p align="left">It's coming! My favourite holiday of the year! <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error">Hallowe'en</span> is drawing near, and for any of you out there that took French Immersion in the 80s, you'll remember <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xy5V1lD_0Rs">this little <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error">dittie from Matt Maxwell's Comment Ca Va?</span><br /></a><br /></p><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 100px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 99px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5532521829057372754" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_RdSbc6nCZOA/TMd3Sn0PIlI/AAAAAAAAAZQ/pt5njN7nkaY/s320/6bb1ccbc4d1d87b21c0154e2f9d71e05.image.100x99%5B1%5D.jpg" /><br />I'm telling you, if you don't have children already, get on the kiddie bus! What better way to humiliate your offspring than to dress them up as ridiculously as you can just to blackmail them in the future??? <strong>AWESOME!</strong><br /><br /><br />Now, <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-error">Hallowe'en</span> is my fave day of the year, and it's not because I like to torment children, nor is it because I spent ages 16-18 sleeping in a coffin <em>(for those of you who don't know this story - pretend like you didn't read that...),</em> but it's because I love to open the door and see how all the kids in the area are dressed up. And <strong>NO</strong>, I don't mean those beastly teenagers, who wear their pyjamas as a costume <em>(if they even bother dressing up at all!!!).</em> I mean the little 4 and 5 year <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-error">olds</span> who are just grasping the concept that they can dress up in fun costumes and go door to door demanding candy. Can there be a better holiday? <strong>HONESTLY???</strong><br /><br /><br />This year our neighbourhood tried something a little different. I came home on Thursday night to find a lovely little gift bag stuck in my door. In that bag there was a note, a picture of a ghost and 4 delicious chocolate bars .<br /><br />The note read as follows:<br /><br /><br /><div align="center"><em><span style="color:#cc33cc;"><strong>YOU HAVE BEEN GHOSTED</strong><br /></span></em></div><div align="center"><em><br /><span style="color:#cc33cc;">Now it's your turn to "Ghost" two other people in your neighbourhood.</span></em></div><p align="center"><em><span style="color:#cc33cc;">You should "ghost" these people within 2 days of receiving your treat.</span></em></p><p align="center"><em><span style="color:#cc33cc;">Hang the ghost on your front door so that everyone can see that you have been "ghosted" and will not ghost you again.<br /></span></em><em><br /><span style="color:#cc33cc;">This will also let you know who you can ghost.</span></em></p><p align="center"><em><br /></em><em><span style="color:#cc33cc;">Fill 2 bags with candy and treats. Copy this letter and the picture of the ghost twice. Include treats, letter and ghost in your bag of goodies for the neighbours that you choose.</span></em></p><p align="center"><em><br /></em><em><span style="color:#cc33cc;">After dark, and only with an adult, "ghost" 2 of your neighbours.</span></em></p><p align="center"><em><br /></em><em><span style="color:#cc33cc;">Do not let the person that you are "ghosting" see you, for it adds to the fun of it all. Place the treat bag on the doorstep, ring the doorbell and run!</span></em></p><p align="center"><em><br /></em><em><span style="color:#cc33cc;">It <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">will</span> be fun to see how many ghosts will appear in our neighbourhood by <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_5" class="blsp-spelling-error">Hallowe'en</span>.</span></em></p><p align="center"><em><br /></em><em><span style="color:#cc33cc;">Please keep it safe and enjoy.</span></em></p><p align="left"><br />Has the best day of the year just gotten <strong>BETTER? UM... YEAH!</strong> So last night me and my son went out <em>"ghosting".</em> I loved the novelty of it and my little guy thought it was awesome that he was allowed to ring peoples' doorbells over and over and over and over again, so it worked out! The only issue is that a two and a half year old sure drags you down when you're trying to make a break for it! I'm pretty sure we were caught red-handed on each of the drop-offs, but it made for some super fun! Anyway, I am ultra keen to see how many ghosts end up on neighbourhood doors before Sunday. I hope it spreads. It was a great idea, and an awesome way to get everyone in the area out and about! You all should try it too!<br /></p>Now, as previously explained I love dressing up my children. And one of the <strong>MAJOR</strong> bonuses of sending my son to nursery school is that I can send him in his costume for the <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_6" class="blsp-spelling-error">Hallowe'en</span> party, right? <strong>WRONG-O!!!!!!!</strong> I emailed the teacher to find out what the deal was and was promptly told that there would be no costumes for the party. Not sure if it's because costumes are hot and get the kids uncomfortable, or if maybe my son is right and nursery school <strong>IS NOT FUN...</strong> You can't tell me it wasn't awesome to get dressed up in your costume and go to school? Remember the kindergarten parade????? <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_7" class="blsp-spelling-error">C'mon</span>! <strong>AS IF!</strong> Anyway, I'm totally bummed that it isn't going to happen this year for us...I mean him...and we're missing the annual <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_8" class="blsp-spelling-error">Hallowe'en</span> parade in my home town just so he can go to school <em>(and get peeled off me...yes, he's still doing the <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_9" class="blsp-spelling-error">ol</span>' kicking and screaming at the nursery school's front door game. It's SO fun!).</em> <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_10" class="blsp-spelling-error"><strong></strong></span><br /><span class="blsp-spelling-error"><strong><br />BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO</strong></span> in the literal and figurative sense.<br /><br /><br />Now to change the subject and discuss how many mini chocolate bars I've actually eaten this week...Here's the weigh-in:<br /><br /><br /><div align="center"><span style="color:#cc33cc;">Starting Weight: 148.8 lbs</span></div><p align="center"><span style="color:#cc33cc;">Current Weight: 143.8 lbs</span></p><p align="center"><span style="color:#cc33cc;">Goal Weight: 130 lbs</span></p><p align="center"><span style="color:#cc33cc;">Dream Weight: 125 lbs</span></p><p align="left"><br /><br />A tiny smidgen of progress but not enough. I think this coming week is gonna be a write-off for me too <em>(not that I'm making excuses<strong>...BUT</strong>...I'm making excuses.)</em> Anyway, a little weight off is better than none, right?</p><br />I'll leave you with some photos to get you in a <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_11" class="blsp-spelling-error">spooktacular</span> mood!<br /><br /><div align="center"><strong>HAPPY <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_12" class="blsp-spelling-error">HALLOWE'EN</span> ONE AND ALL!</strong></div><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_RdSbc6nCZOA/TMeCaYscGmI/AAAAAAAAAZg/s1md7kGC4ik/s1600/Hallo2.JPG"></a><br /><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_RdSbc6nCZOA/TMeCaYscGmI/AAAAAAAAAZg/s1md7kGC4ik/s1600/Hallo2.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 302px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 198px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5532534057064995426" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_RdSbc6nCZOA/TMeCaYscGmI/AAAAAAAAAZg/s1md7kGC4ik/s320/Hallo2.JPG" /></a><br /><br /><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RdSbc6nCZOA/TMeB0RoVroI/AAAAAAAAAZY/XENbxuYYZsQ/s1600/hallo1.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 304px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 199px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5532533402333720194" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RdSbc6nCZOA/TMeB0RoVroI/AAAAAAAAAZY/XENbxuYYZsQ/s320/hallo1.JPG" /></a> <a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_RdSbc6nCZOA/TMeCaYscGmI/AAAAAAAAAZg/s1md7kGC4ik/s1600/Hallo2.JPG"></a><br /><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_RdSbc6nCZOA/TMeCaYscGmI/AAAAAAAAAZg/s1md7kGC4ik/s1600/Hallo2.JPG"></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_RdSbc6nCZOA/TMeCaYscGmI/AAAAAAAAAZg/s1md7kGC4ik/s1600/Hallo2.JPG"></a><br /><p></p><p></p><p align="center"><em><span style="color:#ff99ff;">***Hallowe'en 2010 Photos to follow! ***</span></em></p>Mom'o2?http://www.blogger.com/profile/15544727832094530565noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7308264071633774772.post-32661125369309230932010-10-18T08:01:00.009-04:002010-10-18T15:29:19.991-04:00A Silent Night Would Truly Be A Holy Night!<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_RdSbc6nCZOA/TLx9Bhz8IXI/AAAAAAAAAZI/mI-Wa855qew/s1600/imagesCAAISWL0.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 221px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 176px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5529431907713687922" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_RdSbc6nCZOA/TLx9Bhz8IXI/AAAAAAAAAZI/mI-Wa855qew/s320/imagesCAAISWL0.jpg" /></a><br /><div><div>There is something in the air this week, I can assure you of that <em>(and yes, I do realize it's only Monday!!!!)</em> I know I'm about to sound obnoxious, and <strong>I KNOW</strong> that most of you out there will think I'm a <strong>HUGE JERK</strong> for complaining about this...</div><br /><br /><div align="center"><strong>BUT</strong></div><br /><br /><div>My three and a half month old is driving me <strong>BANANAS!</strong> She <em>(brace yourself...)</em> slept through the night for 5 weeks straight up until Thanksgiving weekend and now she's out of control. She gives us grief when she goes to sleep and she wakes up 2, 3, 4 times a night. Yes...I know, that's what 3 month-<span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error">olds</span> do. I get it. But please understand my frustration when she did sleep through the night for 5 consecutive weeks. Okay. I know I'm spoiled. What three month old sleeps through the night??? But I can tell you this for sure. She <strong>WILL NOT DO IT ANYMORE!</strong> Last night was a <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error">doozy</span>. We made the mistake of putting her to bed early <em>(and when I mean early, I mean we put her to bed at 10 minutes to 9:00pm).</em> This time, she went to bed without issue...and then the beast awoke. She started screaming and screaming. There was nothing I could do to settle her. I tried feeding her, but she was disinterested. My husband rocked her and bounced her and finally...she fell asleep...for one hour! And then she was up <strong>AGAIN!</strong> When she wasn't waking us up every hour and a half, it was my son who <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-error">must've</span> decided to get in on the action too <em>(he was probably woken up by the racket she was making). </em>Needless to say the adults in our household are very tired and at our wits end.</div><br /><div></div><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 255px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 185px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5529431603446147858" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_RdSbc6nCZOA/TLx8v0U56xI/AAAAAAAAAZA/280ekuqO0lo/s320/tiredmom%5B1%5D.jpg" /><br /><br /><div>That's what lead us to the <em>"crying out"</em> attempt. Yes, I know...it's bloody early to let your baby cry it out. You don't have to tell me. But we had tried everything in our power and it was a last resort! So, she cried. And I winced. And she cried...Now, she only cried for 4 minutes...but as most moms know, 4 minutes of a screaming child is like an eternity. She fell asleep. And she slept. <strong>BUT</strong> only for two hours, and then cried again. So I fed her. And she slept. For an hour. And then my husband bounced her. And she slept...and so on and so forth.</div><br /><br /><div>So, what I'm trying to figure out is if it's too early to actually start sleep training the little one. I've completely given up on my <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-error">pre</span><span id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" class="blsp-spelling-error">schooler</span>. I've lived with his terrible sleep routine for this long, so I'm not going to even bother trying to work out a new schedule for him. Anyway, I know there are many schools of thought on sleep training. Most sleep <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_5" class="blsp-spelling-error">doulas</span> won't even speak to parents until their child is 4 months old. Other people say that a baby's stomach isn't big enough for them to truly sleep through the night until they're at least 6 months old<em> (that's obviously a <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_6" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">fallacy</span> because mine had no issue up until now),</em> then you have all of the sleep training books that say that you should start training them from birth. There's also the possibility that my little girl is just going through a growth spurt and, although she doesn't appear to be hungry, she really is and her empty belly is waking her up every few hours for a top up. But if that's the case, how long does one wait for this <em>"so called"</em> growth spurt to finish? And how do I know that this isn't becoming her new routine? What should I do?<br /><br /></div><div>Now, although you may not sympathize with my current plight, I'm sure you all can sympathize with the feeling one gets when they're sleep deprived. It makes you crazy! So, any advice you can send me would be greatly appreciated!<br /><br /></div><div>And to add to my <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_7" class="blsp-spelling-error">un</span>fortunate circumstances, after 2 successful weeks of nursery school drop-offs, this is the morning that my son decided he didn't really feel like going. He was psyched to go all morning, but once we walked up to the door and he saw his teacher, he changed his mind. I tried to talk some sense into him, telling him that he loved nursery school and all of his friends were going to be there to have fun with, but he grabbed me around the neck and wouldn't let go. It took both me and the teacher to pry him off, while other mothers walked by with understanding in their eyes. It just seems strange that he's never had an issue before today. The teacher assured me that she would call if there was any problem <em>(and I haven't heard the phone ring...yet...).</em> I'm just wondering if it's all a symptom of his lack of sleep last night. <em>(At least that's what I'm hoping).</em><br /><br /></div><div>Please tell me this week is only going to get better?</div><br /><br /><br /><div align="center">Now for my weekly weight loss report:</div><br /><br /><div align="center"><span style="color:#cc33cc;">Starting Weight: 148.8 lbs</span><br /><br /></div><div align="center"><span style="color:#cc33cc;">Current Weight: 144.4 lbs</span></div><br /><div align="center"><span style="color:#cc33cc;"><em>(Ugh! Not even a ounce lost this week. I guess it's my own fault for going gangbusters last week. Looks like I should be celebrating Thanksgiving more often!!!!)</em></span></div><br /><div align="center"><span style="color:#cc33cc;">Goal Weight: 130 lbs</span></div><br /><div align="center"><span style="color:#cc33cc;">Dream Weight: 125 lbs</span></div><br /><br /><br /><div></div><br /><div>Tonight is my first night back on Kickboxing after my tragic neck incident. Hopefully I don't puke! And hopefully my next week's weigh in will be a little more eventful than this one. Otherwise my Christmas dream is never going to happen.<br /><br /></div><div></div><div>PS - It looks like I'm not the only one suffering from this...but it also appears that there isn't a heck of a lot to be done about it either...Please click <a href="http://www.todaysparent.com/baby/article.jsp?content=1008194&page=1">here</a> to read an article about babies and their fickle sleep cycles</div><div></div><div></div></div>Mom'o2?http://www.blogger.com/profile/15544727832094530565noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7308264071633774772.post-54148092127328582752010-10-12T08:06:00.009-04:002010-10-12T09:02:16.323-04:00I'm Gonna Wash That Hair Right Outta My HairHappy Belated Thanksgiving! If you're like me, you spent the long weekend <strong>EATING</strong>, chatting and enjoying the <strong>AMAZING</strong> fall weather with family and friends. Thanksgiving is always a special time as fall is my favourite time of year. Putting on a sweater and jeans and walking outside with a slight cool breeze? Nothing beats it! Much better than sweating/freezing your butt off! <em>(don't send me hate mail if you disagree...)</em> <div><div><div><br /><br /><div>So, my hair is pretty long. Long enough that I can get away with washing it only once or twice a week<em> (lucky for me, because my free time is few and far between these last three months!).</em> Because I knew we were getting together with family over the long weekend, I thought it best for me<em> (and the others - no one wants to sit beside the greasy-headed lady)</em> to wash it before we set out for our trip to our Aunt's place. Now, I knew that at some point it was going to arrive...it happened a couple of months after my son was born and it blew my mind...so every time I wash my hair now, I wait with bated breath<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_RdSbc6nCZOA/TLRZQgx82QI/AAAAAAAAAYo/WmdGZw8wnO0/s1600/hair+loss.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 259px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 195px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5527140782902663426" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_RdSbc6nCZOA/TLRZQgx82QI/AAAAAAAAAYo/WmdGZw8wnO0/s320/hair+loss.jpg" /></a>. And this time it happened. As I was rinsing the shampoo from my <em>"locks",</em> I pulled out a clump. Then I <em>"repeated"...</em>and I pulled out another clump. Then finally I applied and rinsed out the conditioner. <strong>CLUMP AGAIN!!!!</strong> Yes, ladies and gentlemen...The hair loss has begun! One of the only wonderful things about being pregnant <em>(other than carrying your child, of course)</em> is that you get beautiful, thick, glossy hair. It makes it look moderately okay when <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error"><span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error">someone's</span></span> holding it back while one's puking ones guts out with morning sickness. But of course, once the baby is born, everything goes south: the belly, the boobs, the hips, the thighs, the butt and of course, the <strong>MOP</strong>! As if we weren't punished enough...the powers that be thought to himself<em>..."How do I make it worse?...Yes! The hair!"...</em>Anyway, let the balding begin, I say. I mean, if <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-error"><span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error">Sinead</span></span> O'Connor and Natalie <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-error"><span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-error">Portman</span></span> can do it, then I can certainly pull it off <strong>(YEAH RIGHT!!!!).</strong> With my luck, I'll look like this...</div><br /><br /><div></div><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 317px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5527140610155651042" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RdSbc6nCZOA/TLRZGdP2n-I/AAAAAAAAAYg/K8m8I5ImyeY/s320/britney-spears-bald-400a030207%5B1%5D.jpg" /><br /><div>Anyway, there's not much I can do about it, other than just let it happen. I'll deal with the <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">wisps</span> that will find themselves at my hairline and tickle me <strong>CONSTANTLY.</strong> Those silly hairs that won't go in a ponytail and stick out like a sore thumb...Hopefully my husband won't kill me when he has to pull an entire head of hair from the drain. I'm trying my best to catch them before they get there, but I'd love a little understanding, okay?</div><div> <img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 243px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5527141275714112530" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_RdSbc6nCZOA/TLRZtMpWzBI/AAAAAAAAAY4/k2kAFye9JCo/s320/Sens_drain_cleaning%5B1%5D.jpg" /></div><br /><br /><div align="center">Now, from one torture to another... This past week's weight loss progress:</div><br /><br /><div align="center"><span style="color:#cc33cc;">Starting Weight: 148.8 lbs</span><br /><br /><span style="color:#cc33cc;">Current Weight: 144.4 lbs</span></div><div align="center"><span style="color:#cc33cc;"><em>(Yes, I stepped on the scale <strong>THREE TIMES</strong> because I didn't believe it myself. I didn't do an ounce of exercise <strong>AND</strong> it was Thanksgiving weekend. I think someone was sending their good thin vibes to me...and whoever you are I thank you profusely. I can't guarantee that I can pull numbers like this again...! But this does give me hope that sooner than later I'll be able to wear pants that don't have elastic waists!)</em></span><br /></div><div align="center"><span style="color:#cc33cc;">Goal Weight: 130 lbs</span><br /></div><div align="center"><span style="color:#cc33cc;">Dream Weight: 125 lbs</span><br /><br /><br /></div><div>So, with my neck back in order (thanks <a href="http://www.balancehealthcentre.com/home.html">Balance Health Centre!<span style="color:#000000;">)</span></a> and no JUNK FOOD in my house <em>(I ate the last ice cream sandwich last night)</em> I'm hoping that this is only the beginning of my <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" class="blsp-spelling-error"><span id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" class="blsp-spelling-error">thinnification</span></span>. Maybe I can hit my goal weight by Christmas??? Santa can you hear me???</div><br /><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 225px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5527140977422578210" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_RdSbc6nCZOA/TLRZb1bHMiI/AAAAAAAAAYw/Izz0lDneJME/s320/ist2_4428994-scary-santa-has-captured-young-black-woman-with-christmas-garland%5B1%5D.jpg" /></div></div></div>Mom'o2?http://www.blogger.com/profile/15544727832094530565noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7308264071633774772.post-63508810966001407352010-10-04T09:45:00.014-04:002010-10-04T11:13:07.392-04:00School DazeSo, the day is finally here. My son is all grown up! Today was my little guy's first day of <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error">pre</span>-school. Where does the time go????? My husband and I have been prepping him for the past couple of weeks talking about nursery school and reading him stories about first days and such. I think we did a pretty good job of making it seem like a lot of fun. He was very excited to start, and even had a little trouble sleeping last night <em>(nothing like a 4am <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">wake up</span> cry begging to go to nursery school!).</em> The fear, of course, is that one preps their child for this first experience and once they walk into the classroom, even the most <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">independent</span> child becomes a stage one clinger, so I was very, <strong>VERY</strong> wary as we entered the room.<br /><div><div><div><div><div></div><br /><br /><div><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 193px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 261px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5524202129085971714" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_RdSbc6nCZOA/TKnokWOgPQI/AAAAAAAAAX4/IPjnn88Zd34/s320/imagesCAVDX1EI.jpg" /><br />We were even warned by some parents exiting the building that there were lots of <strong>T-E-A-R-S</strong>. I got my camera out and snapped a shot for the photo album before we got in <em>(just in case).</em> As soon as we entered, the teachers were there to greet us. He has his own hook with his little name and photo above it. He ripped off his jacket and started in...but then hesitated. "Uh-oh", I thought to myself. He grabbed my husband's arm and said <em>"Daddy come too?"...</em>but my husband and I both said, <em>"we've gotta go home, but we'll be back soon."</em> My son said "<em>Later!"</em> and ran off to play. <strong>EASY <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-error">PEASY</span>!</strong> Phew! Now, of course, knowing that my husband is abandoning me for work, I will be on my own for the dreaded pick-up. I wonder how many tears will be shed when I have to drag him away from the toys and the sand box. I'm crossing my fingers that it will be an easy transfer...but I'm not convinced that will be the case! Here's to hoping, right?<br /><br /><br /><div>This past week has been a challenge to say the least. It started off swimmingly. My friend and I had our first kickboxing class and it was <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">exhilarating</span>! The teacher was just as I remembered him: EVIL. There were points where I couldn't continue, but he pushed...there were points where I thought I was going to faint, but he pushed...and there was even a point where I wanted to puke <em>(but didn't!).</em> When I got home I wanted to die, but I also wanted to go back and do it again. Then Tuesday night I had a date with Jillian, and although she didn't kick my butt, she still worked me hard. I weighed myself on Wednesday and lost a whopping one and a half pounds!!! <strong>IN TWO DAYS!</strong> Then, trouble hit. Over the past month my neck has been bugging me like <strong>CRAZY</strong>. I blamed it on poor breastfeeding positioning. I went to my chiropractor and she made it all better. Instantly! <img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 294px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5524202399987227666" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_RdSbc6nCZOA/TKno0HaZXBI/AAAAAAAAAYA/2cUz8UAN24c/s320/rjo0927l%5B1%5D.jpg" />But when I woke up on Wednesday I felt a little bit funny. By Friday I could barely move my head from side to side. Saturday morning I woke my husband up crying because I was completely paralyzed. I couldn't move an inch. Thankfully, he was able to help out around the house on Friday <em>(by coming home early),</em> and did most of the work around the house on Saturday and Sunday to give me a bit of a break. That being said...all I did was sit <em>(or lie down)</em> and <strong>EAT</strong>. And no exercise and lots of eating makes me a fat girl.</div><br /><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 239px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5524203439531740802" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_RdSbc6nCZOA/TKnpwoBHzoI/AAAAAAAAAYI/eJYGQpgipc0/s320/FatWomenTryingtogetpantson%5B1%5D.jpg" /><br /><br /><br /><div>Here is this week's progress <em>(if we can call it that...)</em></div><br /><div align="center"><span style="color:#cc66cc;">Starting Weight: 148.8 lbs</span><br /></div><div align="center"><span style="color:#cc66cc;">Current Weight: 148.2 lbs <em>(yes, the same as last week. So much for losing all that weight only to gain it back in three days! UGH!)</em></span><br /><br /><span style="color:#cc66cc;">Goal Weight: 130 lbs</span><br /></div><div align="center"><span style="color:#cc66cc;">Dream Weight: 125 lbs</span></div><br /><div> </div><div>So, looks like I have a lot of work ahead of me. Unfortunately I'm still in <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_5" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">excruciating</span> pain, so I have to skip tonight's kickboxing class. <strong><span id="SPELLING_ERROR_6" class="blsp-spelling-error">BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO</span>!</strong> I, do, however, have an appointment with my chiropractor again tomorrow, so I'm hoping that I'll be back to my "workouts" by tomorrow night and I can catch up with my Jillian <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_7" class="blsp-spelling-error">Michaels</span> DVDs.</div><div> </div><div> </div><div> </div><div><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 218px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5524204349170419554" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RdSbc6nCZOA/TKnqlkr4h2I/AAAAAAAAAYQ/rBsmOUir4aM/s320/jillian-michaels-yelling%5B1%5D.jpg" /></div><div> </div><div>Again, I'm hoping that my neck gives me a bit of a break <em>(in the non-literal sense)</em> so my ass can shrink a little more...But I do know this...Thanksgiving is just around the corner, and although it is a time to be thankful for what we have in life, I also know it's a time to <strong>EAT </strong>and <strong>SIT,</strong> um...and did I mention<strong> EAT?</strong> So I've got to make a point this weekend, to keep my portion sizes down and try my best to be as active as I can. At this point, all I can hope for is that I don't <strong>GAIN</strong> weight for next week's weigh in...Wish me luck!</div><div> </div><div><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 214px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5524208054286047042" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RdSbc6nCZOA/TKnt9PUSV0I/AAAAAAAAAYY/lb2IrH6UDbc/s320/friarTuck%5B1%5D.jpg" /></div></div></div></div></div></div>Mom'o2?http://www.blogger.com/profile/15544727832094530565noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7308264071633774772.post-16923394524552828932010-09-26T22:19:00.011-04:002010-09-27T15:32:57.721-04:00The Terrible Twos Have Landed...<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RdSbc6nCZOA/TKCWbuTxayI/AAAAAAAAAXY/o8ZXuWr6Npw/s1600/29262745v2147483647_350x350_front%5B1%5D.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5521578546187823906" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RdSbc6nCZOA/TKCWbuTxayI/AAAAAAAAAXY/o8ZXuWr6Npw/s320/29262745v2147483647_350x350_front%5B1%5D.jpg" /></a><br /><div><div>I thought after 31 months, I was i<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_RdSbc6nCZOA/TKCYdJS2MVI/AAAAAAAAAXo/Tfp7CGNy5d8/s1600/0808_obnoxious_Kristen_Hansonwi%5B1%5D.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5521580769634824530" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_RdSbc6nCZOA/TKCYdJS2MVI/AAAAAAAAAXo/Tfp7CGNy5d8/s320/0808_obnoxious_Kristen_Hansonwi%5B1%5D.jpg" /></a>n the clear. But <strong>CLEARLY</strong> I was wrong about that. I thought I had missed those terrible twos that I'd heard <strong>SO</strong> much about, but it looks like it was strictly wishful thinking on my part. I'm hoping that the past two weeks have just been a phase rather than a sign of what's to come. I'm sure most mothers can relate to the yelling, crying, whining and straight-up defiance that most kids show at this <em>"wonderful"</em> age...but I wasn't prepared for a constant battle with it. My son's favourite word is no. But if only it ended there. No is usually accompanied by <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error">foot stomps</span> and high pitched screaming <em>(usually about a millimeter from my face). </em>This happens at home, at meal times and especially at stores. I'm pretty sure my son hoardes his worst behaviour for long lineups in busy shops where there are lots of people rolling their eyes. And have you ever tried to pick up a <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">tantruming</span> kid? It's like trying to grab a slick eel soaked in oil. I'm not sure how they learn the shark death roll tactic at such a young age, but as soon as a parent grabs them, the arms go up and the body goes rigid. Parents' arms just end up sliding right off. Anyway, I suppose I should just drop my potential purchases and run for the shelter of my car (<em>shelter from those judging eyes</em>), but I just can't bring myself to do it. It's almost a waste of good shopping time <em>(considering that kinda time is few and far between when there are two kids to cart around),</em> so I stick it out, much to the chagrin of those in the lineups around me.<br /><br /></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div>At home we have the naughty chair and the threat of sitting in it <strong>USED TO BE</strong> great. I would warn once and then the second time the bad behaviour reared its ugly head I would count down from three and by two the behaviour stopped. Lately, I'm not so lucky. Most days there's the potential that my child sits in that chair in the corner of the dining room for half of the day. And of course, all hell breaks loose when he gets there. Screaming, hitting the wall, hitting himself...and then come the tears and the I'm sorries: <em>"Mommy, I'm sorry for hitting",</em> <em>"Mommy, I'm sorry for yelling",</em> <em>"Mommy, I'm sorry for not listening"</em> and of course I hug and kiss him and take him off the chair, and sure enough, he's up to no good minutes later...like he's completely forgotten that he was <strong>JUST PUNISHED...</strong><br /><br /></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div>Anyway, I know I'm not the only one out there dealing with this particular challenge, but I'm so curious how one can successfully nip this bad behaviour in the bud before it spirals out of control. Please send me all of your tips, as short of beating my child, I'm willing to try anything.</div><br /><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 183px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 275px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5521578315186751826" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RdSbc6nCZOA/TKCWORw0yVI/AAAAAAAAAXQ/OZssFxacvb4/s320/images%5B1%5D.jpg" /><br /><br /><div>Okay, so now it's confession time... I've officially finished week number one of my weight loss challenge and how did I do?</div><br /><br /><div>1) I didn't curb my eating <em>(Of course this should be number one on <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-error">anyone's</span> list of things to do to lose weight...but I figure, why curb my eating? I'm exercising and that should be enough, no?)</em></div><br /><br /><div>2) I did <a href="http://www.maplepictures.com/home_video_detail.aspx?id=22810">Jillian <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-error">Michaels</span>' 30 Day Shred</a> on Monday, Tuesday and Thursday <em>(half hour of weight training and <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" class="blsp-spelling-error">cardio</span>). </em>Now this is okay...better than nothing, but really I should be doing it more often. I won't even bother giving you excuses. It is what it is and I promise to do better this coming week</div><br /><br /><br /><div>3) The proof is in the pudding. Because of my lack of effort on both the food and exertion front, I only lost 0.6 of a pound. Not great. Not good. Not acceptable. Again, I'm going to try better this week. And this is how I'm going to attempt to do it. I'm going to cut my portion sizes and I'm going to make an effort to exercise more often.</div><br /><div></div><br /><div><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 209px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5521578756920278866" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_RdSbc6nCZOA/TKCWn_WTf1I/AAAAAAAAAXg/OV3zorEm1c8/s320/jillian-michaels%5B1%5D.jpg" /></div><br /><div></div><br /><div>Tonight is my first night of kickboxing. Hopefully I don't die, and more so, I hope that it motivates me to get my ass in gear. Jillian <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_5" class="blsp-spelling-error">Michaels</span> and I will be attached at the remote and we have a date set every night this week with the exception of Wednesday and Friday night <em>(I have to trade her for a date with my two kids....). </em>I'm hoping to do better next week, because at the rate of my current weight loss I'm going to be 55 before I'm back to my goal weight.</div><br /><br /><div align="center">So here it is:</div><br /><div align="center"><span style="color:#cc66cc;">Beginning Weight: 148.8 lbs</span></div><div align="center"><span style="color:#cc66cc;">Current Weight: 148.2 lbs</span></div><div align="center"><span style="color:#cc66cc;">Goal Weight: 130 lbs</span></div><div align="center"><span style="color:#cc66cc;">Dream Weight: 125 lbs</span></div><br /><br /><br /><div>Please send me all of your good weight loss vibes. I know I'll need them!</div></div>Mom'o2?http://www.blogger.com/profile/15544727832094530565noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7308264071633774772.post-22862531591253326302010-09-19T21:26:00.011-04:002010-09-19T22:55:10.367-04:00It's Time To Walk The Walk<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RdSbc6nCZOA/TJbL8-zyY8I/AAAAAAAAAXI/wWpwhmq2zGY/s1600/no%2520food%5B1%5D.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5518822641901921218" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RdSbc6nCZOA/TJbL8-zyY8I/AAAAAAAAAXI/wWpwhmq2zGY/s320/no%2520food%5B1%5D.jpg" /></a><br /><div><div><div><div><div>Okay... it's getting to the point that I can't procrastinate anymore. I talk about it all the time...yet, I sit on the couch and eat my chocolate chip cookies and do <strong>NOTHING</strong> about it. Now it's time to start...and the straw that broke this camel's back happened this weekend. And straw it was. Literally...a stick...of a woman...I was at a two year <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error">old's</span> birthday party and in walks a family with two children in tow. The one child was a little younger than my oldest but I couldn't see the other, who was buried in a <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error">car seat</span> under a blanket. A friend of mine leaned over to tell me that the baby was only 2 days older than my youngest. And that's when my eyes veered from the baby straight to the mom. What did this broad look like <em>(hoping that I wasn't the fattest girl in the place).</em> <strong>BOY WAS I WRONG!!!!!!!!!</strong> This lady was gorgeous...and that's not an exaggeration. She was cute, blond with a stunning hair cut and she was thin. And when I mean thin, she was <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-error">thiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiin</span>...like as a human she was thin...not as a woman who gave birth two months ago thin. She was what every woman wishes they looked like two months after they have a baby or what every woman wishes she'd look like...period. </div><br /><br /><div>And that's when I wanted to die. Although no one said anything<strong> I KNOW</strong> that people were looking at her and then at me, making comparisons...one of these things just doesn't belong here...if you catch my drift. I know if it wasn't me, I'd be making those comparisons too. So, <strong>GISELE <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-error">BUNDCHEN</span></strong> is laughing from her high horse no doubt. There really are women out there who can get their figure back <strong>AFTER</strong> a kid...even <strong>AFTER TWO</strong>, and it doesn't take a whole year.<img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 229px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5518822358507093986" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RdSbc6nCZOA/TJbLsfFMf-I/AAAAAAAAAW4/jdVZxfW1vUw/s320/7848%5B1%5D.jpg" /></div><br /><div>So, what this boils down to is this...I need to lose weight. I've hit this terrible plateau <em>(mainly self induced...with no help from my insatiable appetite and my lack of motivation in the exertion department)</em> of post-baby weight loss and there's nothing left to take the weight off except exercise and a change in my diet. So goodbye <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" class="blsp-spelling-error">Aero</span> bars, adios gummy coke bottles, <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_5" class="blsp-spelling-error">auf</span> <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_6" class="blsp-spelling-error">wiedersehen</span> chips and dip, and ciao <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_7" class="blsp-spelling-error">gelato</span>. Kickboxing officially starts one week tomorrow and what better place to be accountable than online, in front of tens of people. When it's in writing it seems so much more...um...terrible. So, beginning today I will track my weight each week, whether I've lost any or not, for that matter. This is the kick in the pants that I need. Jillian <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_8" class="blsp-spelling-error">Michaels</span>, her exercise DVDS<em> (including Shred-It With Weights - if interested, please see your local store for </em><a href="http://www.maplepictures.com/home_video.aspx?n=J"><em>these</em></a><em> titles...I'm still waiting for "6 Week Six Pack" to come in...)</em> and I will become best friends and more likely worst enemies...but I don't care. I'm tired of these wobbly-<span id="SPELLING_ERROR_9" class="blsp-spelling-error">jobbly</span> thighs, these sad sack <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_10" class="blsp-spelling-error">abdominals</span> and my grandma chicken flab arms. I am also tired of talking about how fat I am<em> (as I'm sure everyone around me is equally as repulsed).</em> It's time to do something about it. </div><div> </div><div align="center"><span style="color:#ff0000;"><strong><span style="color:#000000;">Here it is:</span></strong><br /><br />Beginning Weight: 148.8 lbs</span></div><div align="center"><span style="color:#ff0000;">Goal Weight: 130 lbs</span></div><div align="center"><span style="color:#ff0000;">Dream Weight: 125 lbs</span></div><div> </div><div>Why do I hear Rocky's Theme in my head<em> "trying hard now...getting strong now..."</em> Yes! There I am...running up those steps...I've almost made it...My arms are raising above my head...You can see it too, right? </div><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 275px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5518821803870988402" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RdSbc6nCZOA/TJbLMM5pKHI/AAAAAAAAAWo/C7HTGTYKBq0/s320/3356881484_f02e8aed36_o%5B1%5D.jpg" /></div></div></div></div>Mom'o2?http://www.blogger.com/profile/15544727832094530565noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7308264071633774772.post-31545195638069345302010-09-08T07:55:00.014-04:002010-09-08T08:36:52.102-04:00He's Leaving Home...Bye Bye<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RdSbc6nCZOA/TIeACW_d-cI/AAAAAAAAAWA/CfZ8zhZUawE/s1600/bus.size480x360%5B1%5D.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 265px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 204px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5514517046758341058" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RdSbc6nCZOA/TIeACW_d-cI/AAAAAAAAAWA/CfZ8zhZUawE/s320/bus.size480x360%5B1%5D.jpg" /></a><br /><div>As many of you mothers know, yesterday was the first official day of school. Although several of you were overjoyed to finally have some peace and quiet in your household there were many whose children have just left home for a full day for the first time...and this has caused much sadness. As I was taking my youngest out for a walk yesterday, I ran into one of my friends as she was leaving to pick up her kids from school. This woman is another hero of mine, as she has twins and makes raising two for one look <strong>VERY</strong> easy. Her kids are fantastic, smart, athletic and very well behaved and you can tell they love their mother very much. The feeling is obviously mutual and I knew that she would be a little blue when the two apples of her eye were off to full day school. And I was right. She came out with tears in her eyes, saying that she had thought she was going to be okay, but as the day came closer and closer, she got a little sadder and sadder. I know that it will get easier but I can totally relate...</div><br /><br /><div>You may remember <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error"><span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error">waaaaaaaay</span></span> back when, I was stressing about getting my son into some sort of daycare situation because I was afraid of having to entertain <strong>TWO KIDS</strong> at the same time. At that point, my husband and I had our little guy enrolled in a part time nursery school program, but were hoping to get a 5 day a week situation with the nursery school or at least getting him into a two day a week <strong>FULL TIME</strong> daycare <a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_RdSbc6nCZOA/TIeAJsIZjxI/AAAAAAAAAWI/-Fy8Yi0BJUg/s1600/eae7d491-78cf-5583-ae67-f2c7b6772250.image%5B1%5D.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 303px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 188px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5514517172692029202" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_RdSbc6nCZOA/TIeAJsIZjxI/AAAAAAAAAWI/-Fy8Yi0BJUg/s320/eae7d491-78cf-5583-ae67-f2c7b6772250.image%5B1%5D.jpg" /></a>program. We were fretting that we wouldn't ever get a placement because the waiting lists were jammed. I got an email yesterday from the director of the nursery school saying that they were going to be discussing the waiting list on Wednesday <em>(today!!!!)</em> to decide who was eligible for the full time program.<strong> <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error"><span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error">YESSSSSSSSSSSSSSS</span></span></strong>...or so I thought. The idea sounds great. One kid all week except for the afternoon when the eldest is spending the majority of the time napping. What could be better, right? <strong>WRONG</strong>. After really giving it some thought I started panicking. He's already scheduled for two mornings at nursery school a week. Then Nana comes twice a week and watches one so I can play with the other, so that really leaves me with <strong>ONE DAY A WEEK</strong> to spend with my two kids at the same time. If I put him into the nursery school 5 days a week then I will have <strong>NO</strong> time to play with him. <strong>NONE.</strong> Just the weekends...and that's when I have to fight off my husband who is trying to get his time in as he has been kid deprived all week while at work. </div><br /><br /><div>So, essentially now I look like a jerk. I've contacted the nursery school <strong>AT LEAST</strong> four <a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_RdSbc6nCZOA/TIeC0C012hI/AAAAAAAAAWY/xnn66642lGM/s1600/istock_000003929167xsmall%5B1%5D.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 190px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 215px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5514520099361774098" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_RdSbc6nCZOA/TIeC0C012hI/AAAAAAAAAWY/xnn66642lGM/s320/istock_000003929167xsmall%5B1%5D.jpg" /></a>times since we were put on the list to see if there was any movement, if there was a chance we would get a spot...and tomorrow I may get a phone call offering my little guy a full time position! <strong><span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-error">EEEEEEK</span>!</strong> I feel like the best thing for me is to decline. Am I crazy? I know that it would benefit my eldest to go to school. He's pretty smart and I can only teach him so much...but I'm obviously also selfish and I want a little time with him. I also wonder if I'm just being spoiled right now. My baby is perfect. She sleeps, she's happy...but once she gets a little older...a little more mobile...will two be a handful? Will I regret my decision? All I know is that if I'm this sad about two half days a week, I can only imagine what kind of a disaster I will be 1) on the first day of full time school and 2) when both my kids go off to university....Good thing I have a couple of years to prepare myself. My heart goes out to all the moms out there that are finding their days empty and quiet. I know it will get easier...but I totally get it.</div>Mom'o2?http://www.blogger.com/profile/15544727832094530565noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7308264071633774772.post-17423377856656488292010-09-01T07:56:00.021-04:002010-09-01T09:13:20.732-04:00Let's Get PhysicalWell, today is the day. It's my<em> "6 week appointment"</em> at my OB, but technically I have been <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error"><span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error"><strong>UNPREGNANT</strong></span></span> for 8 weeks. Yes, it's been two months! Time is really flying! Two months after Gisele <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error"><span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error">Bundchen</span></span> gave birth to her magical and perfect baby she looked like this:<br /><div><div><div><div><br /><br /><div><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 194px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 259px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5511913231163526098" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_RdSbc6nCZOA/TH4_4WBHC9I/AAAAAAAAAVI/S4dYIhktZjg/s320/images%5B1%5D.jpg" /></div><br /><br /><div align="center">I, on the other hand, look more like this:</div><br /><div><br /></div><div></div><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 245px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5511913490114300626" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RdSbc6nCZOA/TH5AHaryStI/AAAAAAAAAVQ/NTUfBgy5C_Q/s320/fat-bikini%5B1%5D.jpg" /><br /><br /><br /><div>With 20 pounds left to lose I'm crossing my fingers that my doctor will give me the go-ahead for a rigorous exercise regime. This is the point where I'm extremely jealous of those women who have given birth in the <em>"normal"</em> way. Although I can only imagine the pain and agony you women feel as the baby is crowning <strong>(GOOD LORD!),</strong> once it's out, you get a couple of stitches, sit in a <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-error"><span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-error">sitz</span></span> bath for a week, and you're basically good to go. I know, I know...I'm sure it's worse than I'm making it out to be...but let me wallow in my own self-pity please. With a c-section, it's not that easy...Because I've essentially been severed in half I have to worry about doing damage to my already broken tummy. That's why it's so important to let my belly heal for the entire 6 <em>(or 8 in my case)</em> weeks. </div><br /><br /><div>Before a post-natal woman begins to exercise, she must be sure to check if she has <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-error"><span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-error">diastasis</span></span> of the <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" class="blsp-spelling-error"><span id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" class="blsp-spelling-error">rectus</span></span> <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_5" class="blsp-spelling-error"><span id="SPELLING_ERROR_5" class="blsp-spelling-error">abdominis</span></span>, which is a separation of the main abdominal muscle. Apparently as a pregnant woman gets bigger and bigger, it puts stress on the abdominal wall and if that wall is weak already<em> (as was my case as I had a previous pregnancy and did ZERO exercise afterwards),</em> the uterus can push those muscles further and further apart. On the left is a sketch of <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_6" class="blsp-spelling-error"><span id="SPELLING_ERROR_6" class="blsp-spelling-error">diastasis</span></span> of the belly, on the right is what it is supposed to look like...</div><br /><div></div><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_RdSbc6nCZOA/TH5FB6eP2AI/AAAAAAAAAVo/JZ4hQf1pq4k/s1600/diastasis_after%5B1%5D.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 110px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 200px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5511918893126375426" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_RdSbc6nCZOA/TH5FB6eP2AI/AAAAAAAAAVo/JZ4hQf1pq4k/s320/diastasis_after%5B1%5D.jpg" /></a><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RdSbc6nCZOA/TH5EUtcfgNI/AAAAAAAAAVY/WYL-kTqyTgc/s1600/diastasis_before%5B1%5D.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 110px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 200px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5511918116535238866" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RdSbc6nCZOA/TH5EUtcfgNI/AAAAAAAAAVY/WYL-kTqyTgc/s320/diastasis_before%5B1%5D.jpg" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div></div><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div></div><br /><br /><div>Originally, I thought it was pointless to exercise and get back into shape after my first was born. I knew I wanted to have another kid, so it seemed futile to do all that work only to balloon again. Looks like I was <strong>VERY</strong> wrong! I obviously would've been well ahead of the game if I'd just done some crunches...Anyway, I've been trying to figure out if I have this ailment...but I'm not 100% sure how to check. The <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_7" class="blsp-spelling-error"><span id="SPELLING_ERROR_7" class="blsp-spelling-error">internet</span></span> explains that one is to lie on their back with their knees up, feet flat on the floor. Take one hand and place it on your abdomen, pointing fingers towards the toes, and lift head up while contracting the stomach muscles. If you can fit 3 or more fingers in the space between the two sides, you're in trouble...<strong>BUT</strong> you have to know what you're feeling for...and I don't <em>(or maybe the space between my two sides is just <strong>SO</strong> big my hand is getting lost in there!!!)</em> </div><div></div><div><br /></div>The reason it's important to figure out if I have <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_8" class="blsp-spelling-error"><span id="SPELLING_ERROR_8" class="blsp-spelling-error">diastasis</span></span> is because one really shouldn't be doing abdominal exercises <strong>IF</strong> this condition exists. Apparently you have to close up that space before you can do any other abdominal work, or you may risk doing <strong>MAJOR</strong> damage to those muscles. <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_9" class="blsp-spelling-error"><span id="SPELLING_ERROR_9" class="blsp-spelling-error">EEEEEEK</span></span>! Well, Gisele, the photos don't lie. You obviously didn't suffer from this problem! But the reality is that most women aren't Gisele and more women are like me...right??? Just say yes to make me feel a little bit better, okay? So what happens if a woman does eat the entire <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_10" class="blsp-spelling-error"><span id="SPELLING_ERROR_10" class="blsp-spelling-error">Loblaws</span></span> bakery section for 9 1/2 months and their belly gets a little bigger than they wanted it to? How would one remedy this?</div><br /><br /><div>The <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_11" class="blsp-spelling-error">web </span>does give a couple of exercise ideas to strengthen those transverse abdominal muscles, including planks, back extensions, and the ever exciting <em>(read- disgusting)</em> <strong>STOMACH VACUUM!</strong></div><br /><br /><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 261px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5511929341400409410" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RdSbc6nCZOA/TH5OiFU5ZUI/AAAAAAAAAV4/5EYLSLLI77c/s320/74vacuum%5B1%5D.gif" /><br /><div></div><br /><br /><div>If those don't work, it's a trip to the physiotherapist to get one's belly in order.</div><br /><br /><div>I guess I'll just have to wait and see what the doc says today. Maybe I'll have a stroke of good luck and get the thumbs up so that I can sign myself up for the ass-pummeling <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_11" class="blsp-spelling-error"><span id="SPELLING_ERROR_12" class="blsp-spelling-error">cardio</span></span> kickboxing class..but maybe I'll be looking into sucking it up and sucking it in to get these muscles together before I do anything else. </div></div></div></div>Mom'o2?http://www.blogger.com/profile/15544727832094530565noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7308264071633774772.post-17267214924513486912010-08-28T16:27:00.015-04:002010-08-28T21:10:43.349-04:00The Lady System<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_RdSbc6nCZOA/THmxPCc9R6I/AAAAAAAAAVA/DloagAzbdgM/s1600/images%5B1%5D.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 187px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 179px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5510630490978994082" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_RdSbc6nCZOA/THmxPCc9R6I/AAAAAAAAAVA/DloagAzbdgM/s320/images%5B1%5D.jpg" /></a>Once upon a time I had a boyfriend who used to torture his mother by tickling her. Sounds totally weird, and I at first wasn't quite sure why this was torturous...but I soon learned. If this mother was tickled, she used to pee her pants. To me that was totally whack. What grown woman pees her pants? <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error">C'mon</span>!!! Get a grip, lady!!!<br /><div><div><div><div><br /><div></div><br /><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RdSbc6nCZOA/THl3SzEvetI/AAAAAAAAAUo/LgAmUtmTNMw/s1600/1994-10-29%5B1%5D.gif"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 160px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 190px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5510566783895960274" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RdSbc6nCZOA/THl3SzEvetI/AAAAAAAAAUo/LgAmUtmTNMw/s320/1994-10-29%5B1%5D.gif" /></a><br /><div>After I gave birth to my first child I took a <em>"ballet <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error">bootcamp</span>"</em> class at the local <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-error">pilates</span> studio. There was a woman who had to, quite frequently, take pee breaks during each class because if she didn't relieve herself, she would also pee her pants. Again, I didn't really get it. Women blamed childbirth and the "pushing" action for their incontinence...but I had given birth...I had pushed for half an hour <em>(granted, a baby didn't technically come out of that nether-region...but I still pushed),</em> yet I didn't once have any urination issues.</div><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div>Then came baby number two. My baby was big and <strong>LOW</strong> and pushed on my bladder <strong>CONSTANTLY</strong>. Because my little one was breech..she <strong>REALLY</strong> loved to kick <em>"down there".</em> And, I'll admit it, there were a couple of times when I coughed or sneezed and a little <em>"bit"</em> snuck out. But, luckily, I have somehow managed to go through two pregnancies pretty much unscathed.</div><br /><br /><br /><div>Last week I was with a handful of ladies in a mom's group and someone mentioned that they were prescribed the <em>"Lady System"</em> by their OB at their six week appointment. <a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_RdSbc6nCZOA/THmwM0NYjoI/AAAAAAAAAUw/J7LdeTkmmD8/s1600/LadySystem_BoitierFerme%5B1%5D.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 160px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5510629353284210306" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_RdSbc6nCZOA/THmwM0NYjoI/AAAAAAAAAUw/J7LdeTkmmD8/s320/LadySystem_BoitierFerme%5B1%5D.jpg" /></a>Obviously I was intrigued. What the heck was this <em>"lady system".</em> This particular mom proceeded to explain that is was 5 different weights that you stuck in your vagina<em> (similar to a tampon) </em>and the goal was to keep this weight inside for a certain amount of time each day to workout the <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-error">kegel</span> muscles, hence tightening up the pelvic floor . <strong>SAY <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" class="blsp-spelling-error">WHA</span>?????</strong> Never in a million years had <strong>I EVER HEARD OF SUCH A THING!</strong> I couldn't imagine having to do that for half an hour every day. Like a new mom doesn't have enough to do?? In addition to caring for a newborn baby, trying to get some sleep, losing her baby weight, cleaning a house and cooking for her family, she has to do all of this while balancing a pendulum from her front bum??? That is <strong>CRAZY TALK!</strong></div><br /><br /><div>So, I looked it up and sure enough, there it is, in all its glory. So all of you out there who are like me and have never heard of such a thing...check out the website:</div><br /><br /><div><a href="http://www.ladysystem.ca/index.html"><em>http://www.ladysystem.ca/index.html</em></a></div><br /><br /><div></div><div>Now, I'm not sure what happens if one of these weights falls out...but it sounds like an interesting remedy to a problem I thankfully don't have. If you've tried it out, please let me know. I'm curious to know if it's a scam, or if it actually fixes the issue...and for those of you who have this issue...dangling a string in between your legs for a couple of minutes each day sounds mildly more appetizing than a <em>"Depends",</em> no? And for those of you out there, tickling your moms for a laugh...have a little sympathy. They pee because of you, ya jerk!</div></div></div></div></div>Mom'o2?http://www.blogger.com/profile/15544727832094530565noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7308264071633774772.post-15520832362417817872010-08-24T09:21:00.007-04:002010-08-24T10:02:38.684-04:00Off To The Witch Doctor - Ooo Eee Walla Walla Bing BangIt's been almost a full year that my son has had a cough and a runny nose. The cough goes away on occasion, but rears its ugly head with a mere week's break. And of course, when a toddler has a cough, the entire house feels his pain. Especially when he's up <strong>ALL NIGHT LONG</strong> hacking away. We've tried all the usual home remedies: honey, cool mist vaporizer, sitting in a room with steam, all with no results. I've brought it up with my child's pediatrician and she blames his immature immune system and the fact that <em>"at this age kids are prone to at least 10 colds in a year"...</em>Well, I know lots of kids his age, and he seems to be sick a lot more often than anyone else. So we asked another pediatrician for a second opinion. She thought that <strong>MAYBE</strong> he had a mild case of childhood asthma and prescribed him a puffer <em>(which I didn't fill - mostly because he <strong>MIGHT</strong> have asthma...not because he <strong>DOES</strong> have asthma).</em> I wasn't aware that asthma went along with a runny nose. He has no trouble breathing, he has no loss of energy. It just didn't seem right to me. I asked the pediatrician about the possibility of allergies but she scoffed and said no, she was sure that wasn't it.<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />A good friend of mine, who has a child similar in age, was also experiencing similar symptoms. She, upon recommendation of a friend, took her son to a <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error">naturopath</span>, who ultimately diagnosed her son as having allergies - food allergies <strong>AND</strong> environmental allergies. Once she changed his diet and was aware of his surroundings his symptoms diminished completely.<br /><br /><br /><br />So, I gave it some more thought. My son really could be suffering from allergies. The fact that the cough and runny nose really <strong>DON'T</strong> seem to be going away could mean that he's constantly exposed to something that his little body isn't tolerating. An allergy also could explain the rash that comes and goes on his body<em> (his pediatrician said that was a mild case of eczema...and prescribed a constant slathering of cortisone, which I'm not about to do either).<br /></em><br /><br />So, I thought it was best just to check out a local <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error">naturopath</span> and see what she has to say. My husband's benefits plan covers a portion of it, so it wasn't going to hurt. I visited a <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-error">naturopath</span> once for myself and felt like it was mostly a sham. I believed that each <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-error">naturopath</span> was told to diagnose their patients with candida <em>(which I was diagnosed with, and <strong>I BET YOU A BILLION DOLLARS THAT IF YOU WENT YOU'D BE DIAGNOSED WITH IT TOO!!!!),</strong></em> get them to spend a million dollars on homeopathic remedies and send them on their way. To me, it was the same as going to see a voodoo priestess ... it just didn't seem right...<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 301px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5508971587195882306" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_RdSbc6nCZOA/THPMeISHy0I/AAAAAAAAAUI/hdeLs0WCgtg/s320/Witch-Doctor%5B1%5D.jpg" /><br /><br />...but when it comes to the health of my children, I want to make sure I explore all avenues to ensure I have the <strong>REAL</strong> diagnosis.<br /><br /><br />I figured that if I was going to take my son to see this <em>"quack",</em> I might as well get them to check me out too. I want to be sure that my health is as good as it gets. Especially when I'm breastfeeding. I would like to know that I'm doing everything I can to provide my little girl with the best milk she can get, and I'm hoping they can steer me in the right direction. Being vegetarian sometimes means that my diet is lacking in certain vitamins and minerals, so I'd love to hear what they recommend.<br /><br /><br /><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 318px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5508974746970388898" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RdSbc6nCZOA/THPPWDXEeaI/AAAAAAAAAUQ/vWR7XmnZr4k/s320/mba1092l%5B1%5D.jpg" /><br /><br />My appointment is today and I had a <strong>VERY</strong> thorough questionnaire to fill out before my arrival, asking about my previous health, environment in which I grew up in, lifestyle, etc. This is definitely a different <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">experience</span> than the one I had a couple of years ago. In addition, they had a completely different questionnaire for my son to fill out. One geared strictly toward children, which I thought was pretty cool. I'm hoping that this visit is a successful one for the whole family and we can figure out some of the unsolved mysteries that have <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_5" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">eluded</span> us thus far. Wish us luck!Mom'o2?http://www.blogger.com/profile/15544727832094530565noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7308264071633774772.post-8586596668881453932010-08-20T11:22:00.004-04:002010-08-20T14:22:04.317-04:00Take A Load Off FrannieAs you all know, it's been my mission, even before I gave birth, to get back to my previous self. I have been so sick of looking like an overweight Librarian from The Hilarious House of <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error">Frightenstein</span>... <em>(if you don't know this show, you <strong>MUST</strong> watch it just once. It'll blow your mind - please see below for photo of said character - yes, when I say I look like the Librarian, I mean mustache <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error">et</span> <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-error">al</span>.)</em> <div><br /></div><div></div><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 255px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5507506733783442034" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_RdSbc6nCZOA/TG6YMcE74nI/AAAAAAAAAUA/J5p7GZlO16Y/s320/librarian%5B1%5D.jpg" /><br /><div></div><br /><div></div>...but I have a ways to get back to <em>"normal".</em> I figured I should definitely start with some easy stuff...Dye my hair, paint my nails...and then move on to the tougher stuff when I can. So, I grabbed some <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-error">L'Oreal</span> and got to it. Of course, I followed the instructions to a tee, and my hair looks <strong>GLORIOUS</strong>, with the exception of those dastardly grey hairs that continue to <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" class="blsp-spelling-error">boing</span> out of my head like pubic hair...and don't think those grey hairs changed pigment. Of course not...they remain as grey as the day I gave birth. Good LORD! Someone throw me a bone, here!<br /><br />My mother took pity on me and my disgustingly dry and gross fingers and toes. She, bless her heart, paid an <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_5" class="blsp-spelling-error">esthetician</span> to <strong>COME TO MY HOUSE</strong> and give me a <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_6" class="blsp-spelling-error">mani</span>/<span id="SPELLING_ERROR_7" class="blsp-spelling-error">pedi</span> <strong>ON MY OWN COUCH!!!</strong> How luxurious is that? All I needed was someone to fan me and feed me grapes! Of course, the moment the lady finished the top coat on my nails, the baby started to cry and I had to change her diaper...so much for the <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_8" class="blsp-spelling-error">mani</span>!<br /><br />So, the easy stuff is now out of the way <em>(until I can find a more powerful hair colour!)...</em>it's time to move on to the tough stuff...<br /><br /><br /><div><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 212px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5506814541691409490" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_RdSbc6nCZOA/TGwipjl41FI/AAAAAAAAAS4/1Us_5H4ySDA/s320/fat-scale2%5B1%5D.jpg" /><br /><br /><div><div><br /><div>It's been 6 weeks since I became a mom for the second time. I can hardly believe it! It seems like only yesterday, but in actuality it's been 42 days! That's crazy. In those 42 days my goal for losing all of my baby weight has essentially been at the bottom of my list of <em>"things to do".</em> Yes, I was the anti-Gisele and <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error"><span id="SPELLING_ERROR_9" class="blsp-spelling-error">whored</span></span> my body out to the garbage monster for 10 months and gained an obnoxious 46 pounds <em>(yes, you read that right...aren't you supposed to gain less weight the second time around?????)</em> In these past 6 weeks I've only lost <strong>HALF</strong> that weight.</div><div><br /></div><div>Now, I know some of you are thinking, <em>"Dude, it's been 6 weeks...give yourself a break"...</em>and to those that are nodding their head, I thank you for your kindness. I am still in my maternity pants...and not the maternity pants that I started out with way back in November, but rather the same maternity pants that I wore 7 weeks ago. Like my fat pregnant lady maternity pants. Those, I'm gonna pop in two days maternity pants...those same maternity pants that I wore when I had an 8 pound baby, amniotic fluid, placenta and expanded uterus encapsulated in my midsection. So, I'm telling you that even though a doctor pulled all of that junk out of my body, the tummy has still decided that it doesn't feel that its necessary to shrink. <strong>AND</strong> of course,<strong> I REFUSE</strong> to buy a larger size of normal pants ...so until I lose this weight I'm either going to be wearing <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error">muumuus</span>, drawstring pants or maternity pants until I can squeeze my thighs into my old jeans.<br /><br /></div><div>So, for fun <em>(or rather punishment),</em> I grabbed a belt of mine from the closet, just to see<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RdSbc6nCZOA/TGwt13EiqhI/AAAAAAAAATY/SJDVR2FmtqQ/s1600/fat_lady_eating_cake%5B1%5D.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 227px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 185px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5506826847706589714" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RdSbc6nCZOA/TGwt13EiqhI/AAAAAAAAATY/SJDVR2FmtqQ/s320/fat_lady_eating_cake%5B1%5D.jpg" /></a> how it fit. It was too small, and when I say too small, I mean the two ends of the belt didn't touch. <strong>HOW IS THIS POSSIBLE?</strong> Sure, I was bed ridden for the first 3 weeks, but really? I breastfeed 24 hours a day. Isn't that supposed to burn calories? <em>(please note: I'm completely omitting the fact that I ram food into my mouth almost as much as I shove my boob in my daughter's mouth).</em> So, now that I've hit the 6 week milestone, it's officially time to get off my wide load and get into the gym <em>(or do some kind of physical exertion).</em> </div><br /><div><br /></div><div>Much to my chagrin <em>(as well as my husband's),</em> my 6 week appointment with my OB has been pushed back because she's on vacation. I will not get the go-ahead for any exercise until 8 weeks!!! So that's another 2 weeks of being a <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-error"><span id="SPELLING_ERROR_10" class="blsp-spelling-error">lardo</span></span>. I can hear Gisele laughing from here....<strong>BITCH!<br /></strong></div><br /><br /><br /><div><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_RdSbc6nCZOA/TGwi8lvQ3yI/AAAAAAAAATA/zLIr7CvuGi8/s1600/fatso%5B1%5D.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 194px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 183px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5506814868685119266" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_RdSbc6nCZOA/TGwi8lvQ3yI/AAAAAAAAATA/zLIr7CvuGi8/s320/fatso%5B1%5D.jpg" /></a>So what is my plan after I get the go-ahead? I <em>"plan"</em> on working out hardcore. Now, those of you who really know me, know that I'm really not going to work out hardcore. I pretend...but the actuality is that it's not going to happen. I have two kids at home, one who is a stationary blob and the other can't sit still. I'm not going to get any exercise with these two. I can't go for long walks to burn off some calories because my toddler would <strong>NEVER</strong> sit in a stroller for long enough. I can't run around after my two year old because I would either be completely ignoring my baby or giving her shaken baby syndrome in the Bjorn. </div><br /><br /><br /><br /><div><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_RdSbc6nCZOA/TGwiIgEGmfI/AAAAAAAAASo/z7LaGfRy1JE/s1600/DrillInstructor%5B1%5D.jpg"></a>So what's a girl to do? My goal is to take a kickboxing class. Toronto <a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RdSbc6nCZOA/TGwkLJOFUkI/AAAAAAAAATQ/8oMUdOIU6uA/s1600/DrillInstructor%5B1%5D.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 272px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 210px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5506816218239423042" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RdSbc6nCZOA/TGwkLJOFUkI/AAAAAAAAATQ/8oMUdOIU6uA/s320/DrillInstructor%5B1%5D.jpg" /></a>Parks and Rec offers a <strong>FREE</strong> kickboxing course given by the meanest, ass-<span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-error"><span id="SPELLING_ERROR_11" class="blsp-spelling-error">kickingest</span></span> dude I've ever met. I signed up last fall but had to drop out when I found out I was pregnant, <strong>BUT</strong> the four classes that I <strong>DID</strong> do made me feel like an exercise <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" class="blsp-spelling-error"><span id="SPELLING_ERROR_12" class="blsp-spelling-error">rockstar</span></span>. I left each class wanting to vomit, and in my mind, that means that I had a great workout. Now I just have to cross my fingers that my OB gives me the okay. I don't want to do any more damage to my already-cut-in-half body <strong>AND</strong>... I have to convince my husband that he <strong>REALLY</strong> wants to spend some quality time with the two kids for an hour and a half each week...Not sure which one will be more difficult.</div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div align="center"><em><span style="font-size:85%;">And of course, this is old news, but it's never been posted on this blog...here's to some Gisele bashing. Trust me, we all understand the benefits of breastfeeding...but not all women <strong>CAN</strong> breastfeed, Ms. Bundchen...Everything doesn't come as easily for <strong>SOME</strong> people...but it must be nice to be perfect. (Have a read if you haven't read this already...)</span></em></div><div><em></em></div><div><a href="http://www.thecelebritytruth.com/supermodel-gisele-bundchen-breastfeeding-law/0018661">http://www.thecelebritytruth.com/supermodel-gisele-bundchen-breastfeeding-law/0018661</a></div></div></div></div>Mom'o2?http://www.blogger.com/profile/15544727832094530565noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7308264071633774772.post-19109076539309353992010-08-18T21:06:00.008-04:002010-08-18T21:28:22.607-04:00All You Need Is Sleep...Sleep Is All You Need<div><div><div><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_RdSbc6nCZOA/TGyEjLh-caI/AAAAAAAAATg/lUssDsqveko/s1600/co-sleep%5B1%5D.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 170px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5506922184292856226" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_RdSbc6nCZOA/TGyEjLh-caI/AAAAAAAAATg/lUssDsqveko/s320/co-sleep%5B1%5D.jpg" /></a><br /><div>So, I have the secret to balancing two kids...shhhhhhhh....let's keep it between you and me. It's sleep. And of course, what new mom gets any sleep? Not very many, I can tell you that much. But I do notice this: the nights that I get a good, consecutive number of hours sleep bring on days where dealing with a toddler and a newborn seem relatively easy<em> (and when I say easy, what I really mean is tolerable).</em> The nights where I get no sleep bring on days when I feel like tossing both kids in the <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error">composter</span><em> (a friend of mine once pointed out that there is a picture of a baby on the green compost bins, therefore it must be okay to toss them in there at some point, no?)<br /></em><br /></div><div><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 247px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5506922533953495522" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_RdSbc6nCZOA/TGyE3iHkYeI/AAAAAAAAATo/UkSujTITjeo/s320/sf-compost-green-bin%5B1%5D.jpg" /></div></div></div><br /><br /><p>Everyone always says <em>"make sure you sleep when your newborn does"...</em>but they forget that I have a toddler and I could win the lottery sooner than I would have a day when both kids are sleeping at the same time...so my husband and I came up with <em>(read: I strong-armed him into agreeing to)</em> a plan. Although not entirely romantic, we do night time split shifts. He does the 11pm to 3am shift and I do the 3am to 7am shift. This way we ensure that each of us gets x number of hours of uninterrupted sleep. Perfect right? Well almost perfect, because, as all of you breastfeeding moms know, your boobs don't always follow the sleeping schedule. My boobs are on a <em>"fill up every two hour"</em> schedule, which makes for an extremely uncomfortable and wet sleep on most evenings. If I sleep longer than 4 hours I end up looking and feeling, for the most part, like this:</p><br /><p><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 260px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5506923836636579042" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RdSbc6nCZOA/TGyGDW_axOI/AAAAAAAAATw/4UJXeB1sXxg/s320/10-Minutes-Of-Staring-Boobs-Daily-Prolongs-Man-039-s-Life-by-5-Years-2%5B1%5D.jpg" /></p><br /><br /><p></p>So, even though my thoughtful husband allows me to sleep as much as I can to ensure his kids don't end up at the City of Toronto waste management site, my bags <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error">o'milk</span> aren't as considerate. Thankfully I have many hands in the babysitting kitchen so I have some breaks during the day. So, all of you out there looking for advice on how to keep your sanity as a new mom. Sleep. Sleep as much as you can, whenever you can, wherever you can. I doesn't matter if you're on the toilet, it doesn't matter if you're breastfeeding, just <strong>DO IT</strong>. Trust me. Your children will thank you for it in the long run.<br /><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 205px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5506925230846917762" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_RdSbc6nCZOA/TGyHUg1EPII/AAAAAAAAAT4/ubtVuPdotG4/s320/0511-1001-0515-0721_Little_Boy_in_a_Garbage_Can_Playing_Hide_and_Seek_clipart_image%5B1%5D.jpg" /><br /><p><em><span style="font-size:85%;">I wanted to quickly give a shout out to Ian, Adrienne and Charlotte. Congratulations on baby Kieran. We can't wait to meet him, and we're so happy that you had a quick and safe delivery!</span></em></p></div>Mom'o2?http://www.blogger.com/profile/15544727832094530565noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7308264071633774772.post-1815543598840978922010-08-13T04:10:00.004-04:002010-08-13T04:37:40.503-04:00The Heart-Broken Bad Mom BluesIn the five weeks since my daughter has been born, I've been extremely luckily to have an amazing support system that has pulled together to make sure that everyone in the family is being attended to the in the most appropriate fashion. My mom and my in-laws have really donated almost all of their free time to ensure that my two and a half year old is being occupied while I dedicate my time to the newest addition to the family. I mean, even though my newborn <em>(can you still call them a newborn when they're over a month old?)</em> has almost doubled her weight in her short time here on the planet ...<br /><div></div><br /><div><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 233px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5504804910762851250" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_RdSbc6nCZOA/TGT-5o_Ye7I/AAAAAAAAASg/3Xc7DAc69Jk/s320/TetleyPigletRAN_468x340%5B1%5D.jpg" /></div><br /><p> </p><p>...she still needs me more than anyone else at this point <em>(if only Daddy had boobs!).</em> I thought that having constant playmates for my son would make the transition from only child to big brother a little bit easier for him, and it really did seem to be working. He didn't take much notice to the baby when we brought her home. He was more interested in all the fun toys he was getting when people came to visit, often asking people where his present was as soon as they walked in the door. I thought for sure that I would see the wrath once Daddy went back to work and he was left<strong> ALONE</strong> with Mommy and the attention-sucking vampire baby, but again, in my limited experience being alone with the two kids <em>(only 4 days in 5 weeks)</em> there really wasn't an issue...or so I thought.</p><p>Tonight after dinner my husband took the baby and I spent a little one on one time with my little guy. We played <em>"I'm gonna get you"</em> and then we played a simple game of throw and catch. Seems pretty harmless, right? My toddler caught his first ball tonight, which was an extremely exciting milestone, not only for my <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error">l'il</span> guy, but also for my husband, who has pipe dreams of his one and only son playing for the Blue Jays. Again, a pretty big day for everyone, so where do these bad mom blues come in? <strong>CUE SOB STORY...</strong></p><p>Each night we read a bedtime story and I tuck him in. I kiss him and say <em>"I love you, good night"</em> to which he normally responds <em>"Love You, Night, Night".</em> Pretty simple. Tonight, I got a different response. One that melted my heart initially, and then broke it after the words actually sunk in. He said <em>"Mommy, thank you for playing catch with me".</em> At first I didn't understand him, but when I finally got the words he was saying I got teary-eyed. The free time that I dedicated to him and him alone tonight was so <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error">impactful</span> that he felt the need to thank me. Honestly...that's tragic. I've been so occupied making sure that everyone is getting attention, I've lost sight of the importance of spending some one on one time with him. I'm not sure why I thought that filling all of his free time with fun events with other people would be enough, but that truly isn't the case. Even a 15 minute game of catch with Mommy meant something to him. This just means that even though I have a baby attached at the boob for most of the day, I really, really, really need to make an effort to spend some quality time with my son <strong>ALONE</strong>. No baby in a chair, baby in a swing or baby on the monitor in the sidelines. The baby needs to be out of sight, out of earshot and out of his mind. Seems obvious. And the fact that it's taken me this long to realize it is what really makes me sad.</p>Mom'o2?http://www.blogger.com/profile/15544727832094530565noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7308264071633774772.post-20853660528389530372010-08-04T15:13:00.013-04:002010-08-04T17:56:36.534-04:00A Month Of Bliss, Eleven Months of Hell?Good lord! It's been a while, and frankly, I think it's rather ironic that the first time I have the opportunity to write a new post is the first day that my husband goes back to work...I wonder what that means? Needless to say, I am alive. The joys of being a mother to two haven't swallowed me up and spit me out. At least, not yet!<br /><br />So, most of the visitors I've had over the past four weeks are extremely curious to see a) how my recovery has been and b) how it's been with two kids. I'll start with a).<br /><br />My recovery has been ...um...interesting to say the least. After my first <a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RdSbc6nCZOA/TFnfCNSwHLI/AAAAAAAAASY/posP30GR_jI/s1600/tumblr_kz6symWd4f1qao74p%5B1%5D.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 168px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 303px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5501673648830815410" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RdSbc6nCZOA/TFnfCNSwHLI/AAAAAAAAASY/posP30GR_jI/s320/tumblr_kz6symWd4f1qao74p%5B1%5D.jpg" /></a>c-section, the recovery <a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_RdSbc6nCZOA/TFne1MXzniI/AAAAAAAAASQ/K5azTlHq0jc/s1600/pill%2520popping%2520lebanon%252003%5B1%5D.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 207px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 209px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5501673425245281826" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_RdSbc6nCZOA/TFne1MXzniI/AAAAAAAAASQ/K5azTlHq0jc/s320/pill%2520popping%2520lebanon%252003%5B1%5D.jpg" /></a>time was pretty minimal. I was out of bed after the first day home, racing up and down the stairs, carrying heavy objects, pretty much tempting fate. This time...not so much. I had to actually fill my prescription for <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">Oxycontin</span><em> (don't tell Lindsay <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error"><span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error">Lohan</span></span>...she'll be knocking on my door tonight on her way outta jail).</em> Granted, I only took two of them <em>(again, <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-error"><span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-error">LiLo</span></span> doesn't need to know that I have a surplus, so keep it on the <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-error"><span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-error">downlow</span></span>, please),</em> but I had to take them so I wasn't feeling great about that. When I wasn't doped up on <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" class="blsp-spelling-error"><span id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" class="blsp-spelling-error">Oxy</span></span>, I was popping Advil and clock watching to see when I could take another. I was bed ridden for almost 2 weeks and up until this weekend, I wasn't able to walk around the block without feeling a terrible pull and tug in my midsection. So, you can imagine the distress I was feeling when I realized that my husband was off to work this week and I was having to tend to an overly active 2 1/2 year old and a newborn who is constantly feeding. Luckily my immediate family has stepped in with their time and allowed me to break myself into the role of mom o' two slowly. Hence, I have some free time as my newborn sleeps and my toddler is off to Nana's house.<br /><br />I do, however, now realize how much one forgets about the grossness that is a recovering mother's post-natal body. Ugh! Starting with the disgrace and <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_5" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">embarrassment</span> of having your first pee accompanied by the unsympathetic and immodest nurse, squeezed into a 10sq ft bathroom, followed up by a constant flow of stool softeners <em>(which I felt were unnecessary to take),</em> only to end with the first post-natal poop<em> (and realization that I <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_6" class="blsp-spelling-error">should've</span> taken those <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_7" class="blsp-spelling-error">tootin</span>' stool softeners!!!!!!!).</em> <strong>GAWD!</strong> How could I have ever <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_8" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">forgotten</span> my initial experience???? Not to mention the inability to soak in a bath because of the gaping axe wound I had across my belly. It was shock after shock after shock.<br /><br />So other than the fact that the recovery time of the c-section didn't go as planned, all is well in my household. The sleep issue is horrendous, but expected. The baby is feeding every two hours <em>(and gaining weight like a fat kid threatened with a hunger strike).</em> She is, however, giving Mom and Dad a little bit of a break on the sleep front, generally knocked out from 10pm - 3am without issue. It's the other one that's giving us a hard time. When we first came home, my eldest got a cold, so was up all hours of the night hacking away. Now, it's not the cold that's keeping him up, it's more that he's discovered the art of manipulation and that he's a mildly independent human being. <em>"Mommy, I need water", "Mommy, I can't find my <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_5" class="blsp-spelling-error"><span id="SPELLING_ERROR_9" class="blsp-spelling-error">soucie</span></span>"</em> <em>(yes, we haven't kicked the soother habit yet...), "Mommy, I'm not tired", "Mommy, can I sleep in your bed?"...</em>From what I've heard from other mothers, this is <strong>ONLY THE BEGINNING....</strong>Luckily we have a safety gate in front of his room, so he's not able to escape the confines of his firetruck bedroom...that being said, it certainly doesn't sway him from screaming at the top of his lungs from the threshold.<br /><br /><br /><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RdSbc6nCZOA/TFneKyclHTI/AAAAAAAAARw/im3NIG0xBH4/s1600/Mia-2%5B1%5D.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 299px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 199px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5501672696731475250" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RdSbc6nCZOA/TFneKyclHTI/AAAAAAAAARw/im3NIG0xBH4/s320/Mia-2%5B1%5D.jpg" /></a>As for bringing the new baby home and the issues that may follow, luckily I haven't encountered those ... <strong>YET</strong>... My son seemed ultra excited at the hospital as the entire family converged over my constantly filling catheter bag <em>(oh the shame of labour)</em> to meet the baby for the first time. He was all about holding her and checking her out. Nowadays I'm not sure he's even aware that she exists until she cries. I'm not sure if that's a good thing or a bad thing, but I'll take the peace while I can, as I'm sure it's not going to last forever.<br /><br /><br />Since my husband has been home, and my family has been a super help, we haven't really had to deal too much with one parent vs. two kids...and between the two of us, it appears that my husband has had more practice juggling than I have. That being said, I did wake up <strong>ON MY OWN</strong> this morning and had to put the baby in the crib <em>(screaming of course!)</em> while I did the morning routine with my toddler. All in all, it wasn't as terrible as I had anticipated. Granted, I only had two hours of two kids on my own before my mother-in -law rescued me and whisked my two and a half year old outta the house. I can't believe how quiet it is, though, with only one child here. Especially one child that sleeps often and can't talk or run! I feel like I <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_6" class="blsp-spelling-error"><span id="SPELLING_ERROR_10" class="blsp-spelling-error">should've</span></span> had a training kid, so that I <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_7" class="blsp-spelling-error"><span id="SPELLING_ERROR_11" class="blsp-spelling-error">could've</span></span> enjoyed my first born as much as this, rather than being stressed out over every little thing that happened. Ah, the joys of motherhood and hindsight!<br /><br /><br />Tomorrow is another day of just the baby...but Friday...Friday is the true test. The day where I have both kids <strong>ALL DAY,</strong> without <strong>ANY HELP</strong> until my husband returns from work. You'll have to check back with me then to see how I actually survive...until then, let me relish in the quietness and calmness that is my home.<br /><br />PS- For those of you who are interested...I still haven't really given the tummy binder a real go, as it's been irritating my c-section scar...but I'm pretty sure I'm going to have to start up a <em>"Tummy Tuck Fund"</em> <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_8" class="blsp-spelling-error"><span id="SPELLING_ERROR_12" class="blsp-spelling-error">cuz</span></span> the appearance of my hanging gut is a horror movie more scary than The Shining. Feel free to donate!Mom'o2?http://www.blogger.com/profile/15544727832094530565noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7308264071633774772.post-35197127045720637302010-07-15T16:32:00.008-04:002010-07-15T17:05:26.916-04:00Ze OperationSo, this past week has been rather eventful, if I do say so myself. Because I've been away for a bit and not keeping up with my blog, I'll spend some time discussing the operation, the sibling introduction, the recovery, home, etc. in separate posts if that's okay.<em> (Also doesn't help that I don't have a handful of minutes to spare most days!)</em><br /><div><div><br /><div>Today's post will be about the actual operation. So I survived the hunger strike and zero liquid diet..surprisingly. The c-section was scheduled for 11:45am...but of course, that didn't happen. Apparently there was one thing after another with regards to O.R. room availability. I felt like throwing out the Seinfeld quote,<em> " see, you know how to <strong>TAKE</strong> the reservation, you just don't know how to <strong>HOLD</strong> the reservation, and that's really the most important <strong>PART</strong> of the reservation..."</em> but I decided to keep my mouth shut as emergency c-sections were happening (and they obviously take precedence) as well as an electrical fire<em> (thankfully that didn't happen during MY c-section...yikes).<br /></em><br /></div><br /><div><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_RdSbc6nCZOA/TD92ksk_ApI/AAAAAAAAARY/hYjwdQ6qF4o/s1600/IMG_2991.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 193px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 227px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5494240443228947090" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_RdSbc6nCZOA/TD92ksk_ApI/AAAAAAAAARY/hYjwdQ6qF4o/s320/IMG_2991.JPG" /></a>So, after watching my husband eat a gigantic sandwich, 2 <strong>PAINFUL I.V.</strong> pokes, no water, but 500 pees wheeling an IV wagon around and 4 hours later, I made the death row walk down to the O.R. to get prepped. I was peculiarly not nervous, as I'd anticipated I'd be. The spinal wasn't painful and the O.R. team were very nice and super funny which helped to keep my mind of the task at hand. Finally my husband came into the room and they got started. I wasn't really sure what to expect as the last time I'd had a c-section I was completely unconscious, although from watching a billion <em>"A Baby Story's"</em> on TLC, I'd anticipated a lot of discomfort, pressure and pulling. That wasn't the case at all <em>(thank you Ms. Anaesthesiologist!)</em> and much to my surprise within minutes the baby was out and crying.<br /><br /></div><div><strong>SO</strong>...what did I have???? </div><br /><br /><div>I had a beautiful baby girl! I couldn't believe it! My husband was equally as shocked. I think the last month that I was pregnant we were both pretty sure that we had another little boy in the belly...but that just goes to show...sometimes, one really shouldn't trust their instincts <em>(or maybe that's just me...I've been wrong 2 for 2 when it comes to guessing the sex of my babies!)</em> So, for all of you out there who were rooting for a little girl...we finally got one! And, now that the baby is born, I can tell you that the whole time I was secretly wishing for one. I always thought it would be nice to have one of each...less competition for the siblings, etc. Now, I couldn't say that beforehand, obviously for fear that my new son would one day read this blog and feel I'd been disappointed with the end result...But no feelings needed to be spared! I have one boy and one girl. <strong>YAHOO!</strong></div><br /><br /><br /><div>Anyway, the whole planned c-section went off without a hitch and for the most part, I think it<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RdSbc6nCZOA/TD938PhasYI/AAAAAAAAARo/m8UwilPemdc/s1600/5973.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 254px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5494241947257844098" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RdSbc6nCZOA/TD938PhasYI/AAAAAAAAARo/m8UwilPemdc/s320/5973.jpg" /></a> was the right option for me <em>(more on that in later posts about my hospital stay and my recovery - still in process).</em> I was so happy to experience the birth of my little girl while being awake, and being able to kiss her and cuddle her as soon as she was scooped out was absolute magic. Not to take away from the sound of her little cries when they were giving her a little scrub. It was like music to my ears. So, I really do feel like I'm extremely lucky. I have two healthy babies and what feels like the perfect family <em>(said the woman who's only been a mom of two for<strong> ONE WEEK</strong>).</em> I can't wait to see what the next weeks/months/years bring!</div></div></div>Mom'o2?http://www.blogger.com/profile/15544727832094530565noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7308264071633774772.post-76646941646520821922010-07-06T23:19:00.006-04:002010-07-07T00:10:53.450-04:00Tick...Tick...Tick...<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_RdSbc6nCZOA/TDPygbTMgjI/AAAAAAAAARQ/KKXr4JpOsfo/s1600/dali-clock%5B1%5D.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5490999009592771122" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_RdSbc6nCZOA/TDPygbTMgjI/AAAAAAAAARQ/KKXr4JpOsfo/s320/dali-clock%5B1%5D.jpg" /></a> So, it's finally here. I am officially 12 hours away from my child's birth day. Can you believe it? I can hardly believe it myself to tell you the truth. I feel like this pregnancy has lasted a decade and in one day it'll all be done. Wow! The past couple of days have been particularly hard for me. I've tried to relish every moment that I've had alone with my two and a half year old. Yesterday we did all of his favourite things <em>(including pretending to be a fire man with the hose in the backyard, taking a turn on <strong>ALL</strong> the ride-<span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error">ons</span> at Dixie Value Mall, having a soft-serve ice cream cone, eating Bunny Pasta for lunch and watching the whole</em> <em>"Cars" movie).</em> I tried to make my last full day with him alone as special as possible, although I'm pretty sure he didn't see the importance of it. As I was reading him a story before bed last night I started to feel an enormous twinge of guilt. Although my husband and I have spent the last month "preparing" him for the newest edition to the family, he truly has <strong>NO CLUE</strong> what's in store. And for this I feel bad. I know there's nothing more we <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error">could've</span> done. He's just at an age where he doesn't totally get what we're telling him, and until he experiences it, he won't. <strong>DONE AND DONE.</strong> But it doesn't change the fact that I feel terrible just <em>"springing"</em> this on him.<br /><br />Tonight, as I was putting him to bed I realized that this would be the last time I would do this as a family of three. <strong>AND I CRIED AND CRIED AND CRIED AND CRIED</strong>. This should really be a happy occasion for the family, and in the grand scheme of things, it is. I know. But I couldn't help but get caught up in the moment, feeling like my son may hate me when the next time I put him to bed, it will be with another human being in tow. Okay, it's time to stop whining about it.<br /><br />Tomorrow is a <strong>BIG DAY!</strong> I will finally get to meet The Bean!!!!! I'm so excited! And of course, a little bit nervous. I mean, it is major surgery I'm having...but I'm thinking as positively about it as I possibly can. It's all a means to an end, right? So, I've just finished my<em> "last supper"</em> <em>(for those of you who know me, you won't be surprised that it was Kraft Dinner), </em>because I'm not allowed to eat beyond midnight tonight. I also had to call the Labour and Delivery Triage unit this afternoon to confirm the <em>"no drinking"</em> beyond 3am policy they have. I didn't think it was that big a deal. I don't drink pop or juice or coffee...so it wasn't all that big a sacrifice. <strong>BUT</strong>...what I didn't realize was that the rule also included <strong>WATER</strong>!!!!!!!!!! Yes, it's true. Not a drop of water after 3am. Yes, it's a <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-error">freakin</span>' heat wave. Yes, my surgery isn't until 11:45am tomorrow...<strong>YES, THAT'S A LONG TIME WITHOUT AQUA!!!!!</strong> So, I'm drinking as much as I possibly can for the next 4 hours in hopes that my body retains it <em>(hello pregnant bladder....?).</em> I'm also crossing my fingers that I will actually get some sleep tonight, although I'm feeling like this is going to be highly unlikely...nerves and all.<br /><br /><br /><br />I did, however, want to let everyone know that we appreciate all the well wishes that we've received over the past few days. The next time you hear from me I will have officially gone from one to two...I hope I can cope!<br /><div> </div>Mom'o2?http://www.blogger.com/profile/15544727832094530565noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7308264071633774772.post-78316622147306155922010-07-04T16:39:00.009-04:002010-07-04T16:49:46.138-04:00Hating GiseleSo, we all know how much I despise that rottenly beautiful Brazilian Gisele <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error">Bundchen</span>, right? Well, if <strong>YOU</strong> didn't hate her before...you will now. This post is short and sweet, but I'm telling you, mothers of the world...brace yourself...<span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error">cuz</span> not only is she tall, thin, beautiful, rich, married to a hot millionaire with an amazing body and has a gorgeous child to boot, but she's also the perfect mother. All I have to say is:<br /><br /><br /><br /><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_RdSbc6nCZOA/TDDyO1exe0I/AAAAAAAAARA/V4efyA13zIc/s1600/gagspoon%5B1%5D.png"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 218px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 193px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5490154282452876098" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_RdSbc6nCZOA/TDDyO1exe0I/AAAAAAAAARA/V4efyA13zIc/s320/gagspoon%5B1%5D.png" /></a><br /><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RdSbc6nCZOA/TDDyW7kK7uI/AAAAAAAAARI/77EqrjOErjk/s1600/493092030_7384eee11c%5B1%5D.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 229px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 150px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5490154421525081826" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RdSbc6nCZOA/TDDyW7kK7uI/AAAAAAAAARI/77EqrjOErjk/s320/493092030_7384eee11c%5B1%5D.jpg" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_RdSbc6nCZOA/TDDyO1exe0I/AAAAAAAAARA/V4efyA13zIc/s1600/gagspoon%5B1%5D.png"></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />Please read the below link and judge for yourself...<br /><br /><br /><br /><a href="http://www.celebitchy.com/107008/gisele_claims_her_not-even_7-month-old_baby_is_already_potty_trained/">http://www.celebitchy.com/107008/gisele_claims_her_not-even_7-month-old_baby_is_already_potty_trained/</a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div align="center">Try not to feel inadequate and enjoy your Sunday!</div>Mom'o2?http://www.blogger.com/profile/15544727832094530565noreply@blogger.com0