NOT a size 12!

Okay, so here I am, with not enough hours in the day and still, I'm trying to do EVERYTHING at 12:10am. This is normal, right? We've established that I'm a night owl, so that's not a stretch, but let's keep in mind that I don't have any recovery time in the morning if I do stay up late. No, those days are long gone. And still, I do this to myself knowing that I'll be struggling to stay awake in between Dora and diaper changes throughout the morning.
So I'm sitting here on the couch, having just showered after my late night workout, with a book that I intend to bookmark and a Lands End catalog that hosts the new swimsuit I'm ordering. And I'm watching the news too, to catch up on all the political gossip since yesterday. 22 pens? Really? Anyway! So I made the mistake of breaking out the tape measure to see just how far off of the imaginary size in my head I am. Well, pretty far. I won't go into inches, but it's about 3 inches larger than I would have hoped. Sigh!
Now, my attitude(decidedly): An 8 lb.1oz. baby boy left my body alittle over 4 months ago! And really, my work out regimen has only been consistent for about 6 weeks, as a zombie lived in my body 3 months before that. I'm already stronger and my stamina is coming back, I can feel it. There is hope! But no, I still don't fit in my pre-pregnancy clothes and yes, I am trying to watch what I eat, and boy, do I want to keep wearing those comfy maternity jeans! For some reason, my mother does not understand that my post-pregnancy waist does not react the way hers did after her children were born. According to her, she was in her pre-pregnancy clothes 2 weeks later. I just want to scream, "I'm not Heidi Klum, Mother!" But when I stop listening to my mother and amazingly, quite a few strangers that feel the need to critique my progress, I step back and realize, I've got to cut myself some slack. It'll happen, I'm not quite hideous yet. Still have both eyes and nice hair, so there's not much to point and stare at in public. Yes, I'm still a ways from a comfortable size 12, but it'll come. And until then, I can't wait to get my "All-Over Control" new swimsuit!

Night Owl turned Parent

Do you ever find yourself forcing the book closed that you’ve been reading for the past 3 hours, just so you can claim to be a responsible person now that you’re a “parent” and you’re trying to get on a better schedule? And in closing said book, you turn off the light, adjust the covers and lie there remembering how for the past 3 hours you’ve been yawning and bargaining “just to the end of this chapter…., then I’ll put it down." And now, with the book and light taken care of, you wait for sleep to appear. But what really happens is that you continue to think about your book and how much you are enjoying your book; and why did I close my book and turn off the light again? And suddenly, you realize that your husband is aware of the fact that it’s one in the morning and you’ve just now turned off the light. Although he shakes his head at why anyone would pass up the chance to sleep, a God-sanctioned holiday in his mind, he is silently proud of you for turning off the reading lamp. What he doesn’t know is what lies in wait in your mind: My book. What happens next? I’m almost done, I’ll just finish it tonight. Why am I wasting all this time thinking?! I wonder if I could turn on the light again without him noticing? Hmmm? Now, I’m far from tired and mentally stimulated, so maybe I’ll quietly slip out of bed and …..darn it, he’s awake! And even though it’s pitch black in the bedroom, with the exception of the baby monitor light, I can feel his disappointed look as he accusingly says, “What are you doing?” What am I doing? I’m not quite sure, I just know that I’m awake and wishing that I had slipped my book under my nightshirt before I left my side of the bedroom. Now I can’t possibly retrieve it without him seeing me in the bluish glow of the baby monitor that I’m holding. Initially, I had reached for both the monitor and the book, but he woke before I could stealthily grab them and sneak into the living room.

Why would anyone, he quietly thinks, stay awake reading this long when they know that after the baby wakes, and only 4 hours of sleep, they'll be greeted by child #2, a 3-year old that is ready for the day the moment the sun peeks through her drapes? Why would anyone do that to themselves? But these are the consequences that you knowingly embrace when you are a night owl!

I feel as though I am betraying my husband, because I am not the wife that desires an automatic bedtime slumber at 10:30pm, but a night owl that yearns for the reading of a book into the wee hours or the spontaneity of making corn muffins at 2am, just because it sounded like a good time to make them! Man, I love corn muffins! And any A.M. zombie-like repercussions of my late night accomplishments are well worth it! We night owls are capable of being inspired to do just about anything at 1am! Ever reupholster a couch at midnight because there’s going to be a TNT marathon of Jaws starting? Sorry, I can’t deny that I’ve done this.

Well, it is now 1:36am and I’ve decided to try and go back to bed now. I don’t know why. Maybe it’s part of the compromise of marriage and I don’t want any more disapproving looks from the other side of the bed. Or maybe I know that the baby will definitely wake in the next 2-3 hours and I should give in to a responsible action like “getting enough sleep,” so I can possibly function as a human being during the sunny hours (Zombie Mommies are never peppy!). Possibly that I have now lost my motivation to make corn muffins or read my book by the small dresser lamp. Anyway, it could also be that I'm feeling old. I mean, I’ll be 35 in October and a baby and preschooler really have put a cramp on my night owl lifestyle. I probably should start getting more sleep, but it’s so difficult when I have so much to do after 10:30pm! Surely, there are others that can relate to my nocturnal adventures! So for the moment, I'll be responsible and return to bed and see what happens. Night.

Moving On

It's not a secret that I took the stay-at-home-mom thing pretty hard when we moved to our present city alittle over three years ago. I was pregnant, hormonal and in shell shock that my life had changed so drastically from what I thought it would be. I'd never planned on staying at home or being without a job, but without going into detail, that's what I ended up doing and I'm still doing it. But in taking on that role, I also adopted the mentality that I didn't deserve anything for myself, be it trendy, fun, or normal thirty-something doings. I'd beat myself up for buying anything and half the time, I'd end up returning it! But lately, I've been looking at things differently.
You know, I've been getting rid of a lot of stuff lately. Everything from tops that don't fit my post-pregnancy body to books I never thought I could part with. Having a toddler and a new baby doesn't give you much time to daily "tidy up," so I take my cleaning inspiration when I can get it! For example, this evening, after cleaning the parameter of our bathroom floor with a tissue (you know, where all the dust & hair go) I moved on to our shared cabinet on the countertop. I bought this cabinet when I was dating my husband and it became a permanent fixture in the three master bathrooms we've shared during our marriage. He has his side and I have mine, although my toiletries have definitely encroached on his space without a single complaint (seriously). For a few months now, I've been thinking about throwing away these two lotion bottles that only have about an eighth left in them. But THESE are the two lotions that I used during the first summer of our courtship and the scents take me immediately back to 2001. Of course, in their present condition they don't even smell anymore so I don't know why I kept them for this long in the first place (but I did, because I'm nostalgic!). So, in moving forward, I tossed them. It was time; it didn't seem like I needed them anymore. I mean, I still have all my memories AND I got the guy, so why do I need those old lotion bottles? I even purged a few other things from the cabinet. And I didn't even shed a tear while doing it.
In addition to getting rid of things, I'm also buying myself some fun items that have nothing to do with diapers, pull-ups or children's clothing. I've gotten a new lipstick, a book, scarf, couple pairs of shoes and I'm sure some other stuff, too. These are all unnecessary things that were not part of the "I'm a mom now, so I am not a priority" mentality. And you would think that now with two kids I'd be pinching the pennies even more (don't worry, I'm still a coupon/deal fiend!), but lately I've been realizing that it is okay to give myself a little treat every so often. I don't want to be resenting this period of motherhood as that time when I rarely did anything for myself. I don't want to decide that it's okay to be stylish again when the kids are grown, not as needy and I'm suddenly 50! These might seem like silly statements, but I guarantee I'm not the only mom out there that's felt this way. Well, I'm turning over a new leaf! I don't know why or what's caused it, but I've decided that I'm no longer on "pause." I really feel as if my life, our life, is moving forward to where I want to be. By the way, since my little revelation as of late, this whole period of "motherhood" is suddenly accompanied by a whole lot of contentment and happiness. Funny how that works, huh?

Lost and Found

You know it’s really easy to lose yourself nowadays. I’m the 34 year old parent of a 3 month old and an almost 3 year old and like so many moms out there, I lose myself all the time. You sacrifice television programs or music you’d like to listen to and instead, the theme song to Wow, Wow Wubsy is a regular anthem in your house. I remember, before I had children someone was referencing some childrens tv show that I’d never heard of and I felt so righteous in saying with a sneer, “Sorry, I have no idea what you’re talking about” and also thinking “ because I have my own life." Harsh, I know, but it’s honestly what I was thinking. I couldn’t understand how you could let yourself get so run by your child’s interests. Now honestly, my husband and I are pretty good about trying to maintain balance and not giving in to every desire of our daughter’s but you still end up with your life heavily influenced by your child’s life. And believe me, at age 3, you are so instrumental in sculpting and teaching them that it’s ludicrous to suggest your life wouldn’t be heavily influenced by your kids.

Like so many lost souls, I'll get up and do the 25 tasks (or attempt to do them) in the first 4 hours of the day, along with attending to the needs of my children, which yes, includes the cat. And day after day, I no longer see myself, but a shell of who I thought I would be. Now, I’m not trying to write about how hard it is to be a parent and I’m the only one that’s dealing with any of this. No, that’s insulting to other parents and to those that don't have children. Who am I to say what's hard for some people and why it is or isn't hard based on whether they have kids? But I can vouch for myself in saying that it's been hard! Being a parent is such a selfless responsibility that you really need to give yourself "you" back and go and recharge your batteries. The wonderful thing is that in doing so you will eventually find yourself again and the inevitable cycle will repeat itself again next week.

Because I have a wonderfully understanding husband, I often get the chance to go find myself for an evening (or weekend if I'm lucky). I have found myself on a Saturday afternoon, driving around town and listening to "Whatta Know" or "Garrison Keillor" on NPR. I don't know why I get comfort in the dry wit of those shows but I do. It could be that they remind me of growing up with my parents and appreciating the variety show/theatre/storyteller aspect that accompanied most of our entertainment. You know, comfort radio. While braving the sea of endless January potholes and deciding which stores will visually stimulate me the most, I'll get a drive-thru coffee or smoothie. If it's my second coffee of the day, I'll be Stuck in a standstill in the parking lot between Crane Coffee and Juice Stop, as I decide to ingest more caffeine knowing that in doing so I'll risk a fussy baby later (joys of breastmilk!). But still, the allure of a latte!

However my search goes, be it a long distance conversation with a best friend or discovering a new singer that suddenly puts you "back in the know!" of society, it's a part of yourself that you've reconnected with and those creative juices flowing again are yours and yours, alone. Key word being "yours." See? Found again!

Chicken Noodle Soup

As I sit here eating my chicken noodle soup, grilled cheese sandwich and listening to the end of Caillou (my daughter is watching it while eating her own lunch), I revel in the temporary calm of this meal. We're all sick with a cold this week, including my 2 1/2 month old, so it's been a trying time. As all grilled cheese sandwiches go, the outside crust is yummy and buttery, so I reach for a fancy Poinsetta-printed napkin from the nickel-plated napkin holder that my husband probably thinks is more for decoration than practical purposes and a smile creeps into the corner of my mouth as I think of my grandpa. I suddenly want to eat this meal in the most civilized manner, with a napkin on my lap and leisurely enjoying each bite. As opposed to my garbage disposal impression, which consists of cramming my sandwich and slurping my soup before an offspring needs something from me. When I reached for that napkin, I imagined what my grandpa would have said or reacted to if he'd seen that soup running down my chin while simultaneously preparing another bite to enter my mouth.
He'd have been shocked, he would have made some cutting, intelligent comment that would have made everyone else laugh and left me horrified at my barbarianism. His conclusion of my uncivilized behavior would have branded a Scarlet letter on my forehead in his mind and during each subsequent meal, he'd have watched me out of the corner of his eye to catch me in such low behavior again.
The thing that was so delightful about my grandpa was that he was a very quiet, kind person that had the presence of a giant. It wasn't that you needed his approval, but you definitely didn't want him to notice you doing something he disapproved. I don't know if he meant to, but his reactions to most things during my lifetime with him were the most entertaining past times for my extended family. It was always interesting to find out what Grandpa's reaction was to a behavior more than what behavior had been committed. I doubt he now approves of my dipping my sandwich in my soup either, but I'm not giving that one up when eating at home.
So when I reached for that napkin, I knew that I was really reaching for a memory to come to life before me and to be sitting with my grandpa again. It reminded me that the laziness and lack of civility towards myself was not being true to his influence on my upbringing. And maybe that was his way of letting me know he was looking down from heaven, still watching out of the corner of his eye.

My Mistake

Have you ever given permission for someone to pass along your cell number to a person and then later wished you could turn back time and have initially come up with an excuse to say no? That's how I feel right now about a person that keeps texting me. I'm busy. And yes, I'm too busy to get text messages that don't mean anything to me or don't include me in the obvious laughter that has made this person "Laugh Out Loud(LOL)" and decide to text me in the first place with information that I didn't solicit. Grrrr! Unfortunately, I can't block this person from sending these to my phone because their position is one that must be dealt with delicately. That's all I can say really. Anyway, what really annoys me is that I was planning on writing about my new stainless steel bowl, plus some other kitchenware and how much happiness they've brought me-yes, I said happiness - anyway, instead of writing about something lighthearted and insightful, my afternoon zest has been thwarted by this most recent dumb text message from this person that I mistakenly read. Grrrrr. See, I grrrred again, this isn't good. Now I understand why people lie and say they've moved to Brazil just to get away from someone. Hopefully, this person's interest in me will taper off soon. If not, my frown will remain "side down."

Too negative?

Boy, am I glad that I'm using a computer! I just typed out a couple of sentences and after realizing they were too negative, voila, deleted! Computers are great that way! I really want to write something inspired, as I hope this blog to be most times, but I'm feeling kind of worn down and uninspired. It's not writer's block, it's complainer's block. So I'd like to complain about situations in your life that you're forced to sit through because you're being polite. Earlier this evening, I was hounded with questions about why I chose this or decided that or why I didn't do it that way, and I just wanted to scream, "Lay off! Because of this and that and they had no openings and we decided this instead of that! And it was 2 years ago and I've moved on!" Sheesh! Actually, it was as though I were talking to my mother! Don't get me wrong, mothers are great, but they also don't let up and they think they're being clever when they "suggest" something to you 5 times, but in different verbiage each time. Like you're going to have some epiphany that 5th time and succumb to their bidding. "Wow, I never thought of it that way, I'm going to suddenly change my mindset regarding this situation!" But this person was not my mother, so she didn't even get the daughter thought response of, "Bite your tongue, bite your tongue, she's your mother and she's only trying to help. No matter how old you are, she'll always have 'suggestions' for your life." I mean, I find it exhausting to just think of my own mother asking me these questions, so you can imagine how it felt to be interrogated by someone else. Sigh! See what I mean, this post if far too negative, but at least I'm not establishing my blog as too happy-go-lucky! So even though I really want to delete this entire post, I'm going to leave it for posterity and the proof that I really did get down to the computer and "write something, damn it!"