I was getting lost in my past blog posts and realized I have posted nothing on my weight-loss journey since... I don't really remember. Yes, I am, in fact, the lightest I have been since 2010 I believe, when I was going through the psycho stalker student situation and had recently lost my dad, so I existed on oreos and mountain dew (OMG, that's disgusting). But, what's interesting to me, is how I lost that much after having Drew.
I put on a lot of weight with Drew. A LOT. It was a combination of stress, being busy all the time, managing two small children, managing Catherine's shit, and having a husband who was barely home. Oh yes, and a bathroom remodel and kitchen remodel. Looking back, what the hell was I thinking? I was already heavier than I wanted to be when I found out I was pregnant, and from there, I ate my feelings. And I had a lot of feelings.
I think I gained somewhere between 50-55 pounds with Drew. The most I had with any of the kids, and therefore, the most I have ever lost. I remember going back to school and HATING the way I looked. I went out and bought new clothes (of which, I have since given away or donated to Goodwill). It was terrible. I felt jiggly, I wasn't comfortable in my own skin, and I hated that I didn't have time to exercise.
Fast-forward to September, when Drew was about 6 months, and I discovered that food dyes made Catherine a psycho. So we took those things out of our house. Now, NO ONE in my house eats anything with dye in it. Like all things, I started researching what is REALLY in our food.
Um, shit. Shit is in our food. Complete. Shit. It's disgusting. I had no idea that some of the ingredients for Mountain Dew also came from PETROL BASED PRODUCTS. Say, what? I was grossed out. So I switched to cappucino. Because, you know, that will really help the pounds melt off...
I did that for a few months, enjoyed the hell out of it because it tastes like a hot milkshake, and then really got on board. I cut all artificial sugars and caffeine out of my diet. Did I mention I did this a week before we went on our cruise? Kind of stupid, but I figured the week before spring break, I had nothing going on at school. No night commitments, no competitions, nothing. So I might as well.
When we left for our cruise, I was 162. Close to my pre-pregnancy weight. In all of this, Eric decided he was going to try and lose weight too, but without cutting the caffeine and sugars. Yet, he still had begun losing weight. I managed to avoid a ton of food and only gained four (FOUR!) pounds on the cruise. But after that, it melted off.
I didn't realize how much sugar and the crap that is put into our food helps keep the pounds on. I am now down to 155. Again, one of the lightest weights I have been in several years. Definitely before kids.
I have also realized how much people (like me) don't really need caffeine. I have always been a high energy person. Now, I am a high energy person without the caffeine. That isn't to say that I don't drink it. I will have a sip of Eric's pop if we go out to eat, or I will sneak the occasional cookie in the break room at work, or have a few M&M's if my co-worker has some at lunch. But for the majority of my diet, I have simply cut out crappy food and caffeine. What a difference it has made. I don't feel tired in the mornings, like I used to. I still feel tired, but I wake up to that fully awake state within 10 minutes. I do lag in the afternoons, but then I just eat something and it helps immensely. I sleep so much better! It's crazy that me, the girl who drank a Surge and ate Toaster Strudels before school every morning in high school, and existed on Oreos and Mountain Dew during my teaching career has taken all of that out of my diet. But it's been awesome.
The bottom line is that I have done it for Catherine. If I am able to do it, I can keep it out of my house, and she will never know the difference. She won't be asking for a sip of pop, or wondering what I'm drinking in the mornings. I have noticed a huge difference in my other two as well. They sleep longer, fall asleep faster, and overall are very well behaved, sans the typical 1.5/5 year old stuff. Our bedtime routine (cue knocking on wood, please) lasts 30 minutes, from the time we head upstairs to the time the kids fall asleep. FALL ASLEEP. And they stay asleep. It's awesome. Although, now watch them wake up four times tonight for some reason.
In all, it's been an interesting experience as I didn't think it would do much for me. I figured I would always perpetually be a little heavier after kids. Needless to say, I am happy to see that is not the case. I am glad I did this for ME, and I am glad Eric is with me on this journey. Eric has lost a total of 25 pounds already. TWENTY-FIVE! And this is from a guy who is pretty built as he lifts heavy things all day. I have lost ten. In three months.
Go us.
Showing posts with label The Battle of the Bulge. Show all posts
Showing posts with label The Battle of the Bulge. Show all posts
Tuesday, June 6, 2017
Sunday, June 19, 2016
The Battle of the Bulge, Part III: Week...18?
The neighbor girl asked me today how old Drew is. I said, "...4 and a half months?" She replied, "Yeah, but how old is he? Like... how old?" So I replied, "...18 weeks?" She said. "Wow, that's really old!" I love the minds of little kids... unless they are whining or arguing. In that case, no thanks, but in this one, adorable!
So I have been on this journey for 18 weeks (or so, I am not really counting at all and frequently have to think when asked how old Drew is, or how old any of my kids are, or really what day of the week it is and yes, think I showered...
But I digress.
Yes, 18 weeks since Drew blessed our lives. However, the beginning was all about survival. Eating whatever I wanted to help with milk supply. Yoga pants and nursing tanks with the occasional bulky sweatshirt thrown over it. It was glorious.
But I will never forget stepping on that scale when I decided to get serious. I haven't really disclosed what I weigh at each of my blog check-ins, but writing my first one, I was incredibly depressed. How did my weight gain get that out of control?
Maybe it was all the extra portions, less mobility and not really giving a shit. I have lost it before, I can do it again. Hahahahahahahah, little did I know it would be this hard.
I weighed around 190 at about 8 weeks post-partum. Today I stepped on the scale and I weigh 169 post-partum. And that's not a magical, OH MY GOD I GOT PAST 170 and then tomorrow it will be back up to 171. It has been legit for a couple of days, but I didn't want to blog about it because I thought it was a fluke.
So what have I been doing? Eating healthy, playing more with my kids now that I can, y'know, MOVE and watching my portions. Oh, and breastfeeding, which can burn up to 800 calories a day. Crazy!
It's been a long road, but a road forward nonetheless.
So about 20 pounds lost in 2 1/2 months sounds a lot better 20 pounds lost in 10 weeks, but I will take it. That's about 2 pounds a week. Which is quite impressive. I have 2 more months of summer, which is another 8 weeks. Maybe I can burn off some more by the time I go back to school?
We shall see!
So I have been on this journey for 18 weeks (or so, I am not really counting at all and frequently have to think when asked how old Drew is, or how old any of my kids are, or really what day of the week it is and yes, think I showered...
But I digress.
Yes, 18 weeks since Drew blessed our lives. However, the beginning was all about survival. Eating whatever I wanted to help with milk supply. Yoga pants and nursing tanks with the occasional bulky sweatshirt thrown over it. It was glorious.
But I will never forget stepping on that scale when I decided to get serious. I haven't really disclosed what I weigh at each of my blog check-ins, but writing my first one, I was incredibly depressed. How did my weight gain get that out of control?
Maybe it was all the extra portions, less mobility and not really giving a shit. I have lost it before, I can do it again. Hahahahahahahah, little did I know it would be this hard.
I weighed around 190 at about 8 weeks post-partum. Today I stepped on the scale and I weigh 169 post-partum. And that's not a magical, OH MY GOD I GOT PAST 170 and then tomorrow it will be back up to 171. It has been legit for a couple of days, but I didn't want to blog about it because I thought it was a fluke.
So what have I been doing? Eating healthy, playing more with my kids now that I can, y'know, MOVE and watching my portions. Oh, and breastfeeding, which can burn up to 800 calories a day. Crazy!
It's been a long road, but a road forward nonetheless.
So about 20 pounds lost in 2 1/2 months sounds a lot better 20 pounds lost in 10 weeks, but I will take it. That's about 2 pounds a week. Which is quite impressive. I have 2 more months of summer, which is another 8 weeks. Maybe I can burn off some more by the time I go back to school?
We shall see!
 |
| On the left: About 185, and definitely sucking in. On yhe right: 169 and still going... hopefully! |
Friday, May 20, 2016
Just Another Manic Update: Birthdays, Bananas, and Battle of the Bulge
Where do I even begin? Probably the beginning.
James:
I knew two years ago, when bragging to a friend, that you sleep like the dead, that I would one day pay for it. The day has arrived. You fight bedtime like it's the plague, and we have gotten ourselves into a terrible routine. You don't like going to bed. You don't like your room. You want to sleep with mom and dad (NO!). You need another drink of water. You're hungry. You have to poop (which you always seem to announce LOUDLY). It is never ending. We have tried stickers, reward programs, letting you stay up later, and everything you could possibly think of to bribe you. Nothing. Nada. You refuse to go to bed at a decent time. Then, some days, you are so tired we can't keep you awake, so you take a nap. It doesn't matter if it's 10 minutes or an hour, if you nap, you are up until the wee hours of the night. Which is hard on mom. If I had my way, I would go to bed when Drew does at 8 or 9. But nope, 10:00 p.m. rolls around and you are still awake. I have tried cutting out sugar, reading more, letting you watch a movie on your tablet. Finally, after wracking my brain, I thought that maybe you have some sort of weird separation anxiety. So like any reasonable, responsible adult, I googled the shit out of it (my M.O. don't forget), and low and behold, I guess it's a thing. And it started to happen right before Drew got here. I am hoping you will grow out of it, but every night, it's a battle. Most nights, we just wait until you pass out wherever you decide and then move you to your bed. It has been as soon as only a couple of hours later, and you're in our bed with us. It drives me nuts, because I will also pull Drew into bed with me in the wee hours of the night to nurse laying down, so I can at least REST, and all of a sudden there are four people in our king-size bed. Drives. Me. Crazy. I really hope this doesn't last, and I am really hoping that summer will take care of it when the "big kids" are at daycare with you. Ugh.
Otherwise, you are a picky eater (compared to Catherine, who LOVES steak and pork chops - weird!) and you're very smart. You pick up on things quickly and use that to your advantage as much as possible. You hear popcorn popping at 9:30 because breastfeeding mommy is hungry? Down the stairs you come, ready to tell me you happen to be hungry.
I am trying not to be a hardass for a parent, but at the same time, I am definitely a hard ass. I don't take shit, and it breaks my heart when I tell him he needs to go to his room. He will say things like, "You are not being nice to me, mom!" You're right. I'm not being nice to you, son. Because it's my responsibility as your mother to make sure you don't grow up to be stupid. So, if I have to be mean this one time (or multiple times), then so be it. But on the other hand, when we shut his door to put him in time out in his room, he freaks out. I mean, FREAKS out. Screams about monsters and how he's scared. I honestly think he's afraid that we won't come back to get him, or something. It's rather bizarre. The other night, he climbed into bed with us while nursing Drew (pretty sure Drew's crying woke him up) and he told me he had a dream that he was on a school bus with the "big kids" and the school bus made him get off and then he couldn't find his way home. And while he's telling me this, he honest-to-God started crying. At 2:30 a.m. I was crushed. I felt so terrible for him! So I really believe there is some sort of fear there that we are going to leave and not come back. Once Drew and Catherine go to bed, James is on me like a fat kid on cake. He will not let me out of his sight. If I go downstairs to get something to drink and happen to take too long talking to Eric, he will come down adn find me and tell me he was worried because he didn't know where I was. So I think there's something there, but I really don't know what to do except let it run it's course.
Catherine:
Oh my, little girl, it has been a wild ride the past few weeks. We had your MRI, plus your allergy appointment. It was terrible to see them put you under for the MRI, but I am glad we got it done. Turns out, you have fluid in your inner ear (I was right, you asshole ENT doctor!). Why? Because of allergies, which we found out you have. But not environmental allergies, like we thought. You are allergic to... *drum roll* fucking bananas. Seriously? Milk and bananas, the two things you have at daycare EVERY DAY. We took milk out of your diet, but since it's such a low class, the allergist suggested just regular milk, cheese, milk based products like sour cream, but if it has milk baked into it, like cake or something else I cannot think of right now, you should be ok. Then we find out you're allergic to BANANAS? Again, seriously? I could not believe it. And what's even funnier is that you chow down bananas like they are going out of style. So obviously, we are no longer giving you bananas. Your runny noses are gone and the allergist said the fluid from her inner ear is most likely gone as well. You are honestly a very different little girl, even from a week ago. It finally seems like you are happy.
We have been working with the speech pathologist - she is more or less training us than she is working with Catherine. You can now make duck noises, pant like a dog (which is hilarious) say yes, mom and dad, and you have several noises for objects, but no actual words. But it's a start. I am excited to see how this summer goes.
Today was your second birthday. You weren't too excited about your gifts, but you LOVED your cake! And even though James blew out your candles, you seemed to really enjoy being sung to. You are so, SO sweet and love being a "mom." You have your babies that you carry with you everywhere, and you love pushing your little stroller around, putting them in it and throwing them to the ground a few feet later. You love helping me with Drew, including finding his pacifier and blanket any time I am holding him. You are SUCH a lover and you have the biggest heart.
You are starting to run, which looks more like a linebacker than a little girl, but you love to run around with James. You also love to play with the "big kids" but of course, it's difficult for you to keep up. They love playing with you (until you get tired and whiny!) and you love the attention. You could be pushed around in a stroller or pulled in a wagon ALL DAY LONG. You just sit like a little queen and enjoy the attention from everyone.
You are still small, still wearing 18 month clothes, but you are growing. We are moving forward, and from a year ago, that's huge.
Drew:
I just updated everyone (no one?) on your 3 months, but I can't believe how much you have changed in the course of these 3.5 months. Sunday night was a nightmare and I happened to see every hour on the clock. It was tough, and the next night was almost as bad, but Tuesday into Wednesday, you let me sleep for about 5 hours, which I so appreciated. I felt like a new person on Wednesday! You love cluster feeding at night, which kills me, but I deal with it. By about 9:00 p.m. I am touched out. Which is difficult because that's when James is getting REALLY clingy, and I can hardly handle it. Eric has been fairly good about things though, which is helpful. Sometimes I have to remind him that I can't do it all and he can't just let me do it all, but every once in awhile, he surprises me, and for that, I am thankful. Like tonight. I am blogging while you, Drew-boo, are downstairs, asleep in Eric's arms because while I was in the shower, you started crying. It seems like my one 20 minute shower every night is the only time I can get away. Which brings me to my next header...
Touched. Out.
I told Eric tonight I would like to go 10 minutes without someone needing something from me. Tonight, when we were packing up to go get our new couch (yay! new furniture!), I told Eric I was going to park in the street so he could easily back up the driveway to unload our couch. He said, "You should park behind the trailer." No. I don't want to fucking park behind the trailer. I want to park in the fucking street. I hate parking behind the trailer. I have to get out in the grass, and then the next morning, I have to walk through wet grass, with nice shoes, just to get into my car. And my car sticks out into the sidewalk, so it's hard to see the kids when they are running from one house to the next with the neighbors. So no. I don't need you telling me where to park my damn car! My dad used to do that too, and it would drive me nuts. "You should......" NO. I shouldn't do anything you want me to! I didn't ask for your damn suggestion! Overall, I just want people to not need something from me, or tell me what to do, for like, 10 fucking minutes. I just need 10. fucking. minutes. Ugh!
Mobility Yoga and PT Graduation
I had to skip last week's mobility yoga because something happened (not sure what, I can't remember back that far) and I couldn't make it. Ahh, yes. I forgot my damn milk at school, in a cooler without an ice pack. So I had to go back for it. Damnit! So I missed my second yoga class, but was able to go this past Monday. It was awesome. After a night from hell with Drew, a day from hell at school, I honestly did not want to go. But I am so glad I did. I'm not really into that whole namaste shit, but it was awesome to stretch my body and feel good while doing it. Then I had physical therapy on Wednesday and tadaaa! I graduated! I can officially feel my leg! And my foot! Although as I sit right now on this bed, it's tingling, but I'm sure it has to do with the fact that I'm sitting poorly. But seriously. I finally feel like I can walk normally, although it still takes a bit to get going from the sitting position, but I feel much more limber. I am going to look into yoga classes for the summer.
Battle of the Bulge
I am still at the weight I was when I blogged the last time after having the flu. Which is not a huge deal, since I figured I would bounce back up a bit after I started eating. But honestly, I am about 14 pounds from where I want to be, and that's pretty good. I still hate how I look and dressing this body is difficult, but I can honestly say I am starting to really tell a difference between the same clothes that were once pretty tight to now where they fit me snugly. Especially my nursing tops that I got right after I gave birth. Those are getting fairly loose, to the point where they shift in the middle of the night and I leak all over. It's awesome. So I've pulled out some of my old ones from post-Catherine and they are still a little tight, but better that than too big!
The Kitchen
Our kitchen backsplash came in, and I am excited for Eric to start putting it up. I can't believe we actually found one we both liked, but we also talked with a designer who led us away from glass tile and to natural stone back splash. And BOOM, that was it. Also, Eric got a huge discount for being a contractor and working out some deal that he would have his clients now pick their stone from this particular place. So I guess there are perks to having a home that is never finished: a contractor-husband who can get you good deals. All in all, we have done our kitchen remodel for about $8000 and our bathroom remodel for about $2000. Considering Eric would charge anywhere from $40-50,000 for our kitchen remodel in someone else's home, I think it's safe to say we are definitely ahead. It's nice to have almost 50% equity in a home. And once again, we are doing it all on our own. Buying a "fixer-upper" was the smartest thing we could have done for ourselves.
So that's it. Life is constantly moving, and I am always feeling like there truly aren't enough hours in a day, but summer is almost here, and life will slow down a bit. And for that, I am thankful!
James:
I knew two years ago, when bragging to a friend, that you sleep like the dead, that I would one day pay for it. The day has arrived. You fight bedtime like it's the plague, and we have gotten ourselves into a terrible routine. You don't like going to bed. You don't like your room. You want to sleep with mom and dad (NO!). You need another drink of water. You're hungry. You have to poop (which you always seem to announce LOUDLY). It is never ending. We have tried stickers, reward programs, letting you stay up later, and everything you could possibly think of to bribe you. Nothing. Nada. You refuse to go to bed at a decent time. Then, some days, you are so tired we can't keep you awake, so you take a nap. It doesn't matter if it's 10 minutes or an hour, if you nap, you are up until the wee hours of the night. Which is hard on mom. If I had my way, I would go to bed when Drew does at 8 or 9. But nope, 10:00 p.m. rolls around and you are still awake. I have tried cutting out sugar, reading more, letting you watch a movie on your tablet. Finally, after wracking my brain, I thought that maybe you have some sort of weird separation anxiety. So like any reasonable, responsible adult, I googled the shit out of it (my M.O. don't forget), and low and behold, I guess it's a thing. And it started to happen right before Drew got here. I am hoping you will grow out of it, but every night, it's a battle. Most nights, we just wait until you pass out wherever you decide and then move you to your bed. It has been as soon as only a couple of hours later, and you're in our bed with us. It drives me nuts, because I will also pull Drew into bed with me in the wee hours of the night to nurse laying down, so I can at least REST, and all of a sudden there are four people in our king-size bed. Drives. Me. Crazy. I really hope this doesn't last, and I am really hoping that summer will take care of it when the "big kids" are at daycare with you. Ugh.
Otherwise, you are a picky eater (compared to Catherine, who LOVES steak and pork chops - weird!) and you're very smart. You pick up on things quickly and use that to your advantage as much as possible. You hear popcorn popping at 9:30 because breastfeeding mommy is hungry? Down the stairs you come, ready to tell me you happen to be hungry.
I am trying not to be a hardass for a parent, but at the same time, I am definitely a hard ass. I don't take shit, and it breaks my heart when I tell him he needs to go to his room. He will say things like, "You are not being nice to me, mom!" You're right. I'm not being nice to you, son. Because it's my responsibility as your mother to make sure you don't grow up to be stupid. So, if I have to be mean this one time (or multiple times), then so be it. But on the other hand, when we shut his door to put him in time out in his room, he freaks out. I mean, FREAKS out. Screams about monsters and how he's scared. I honestly think he's afraid that we won't come back to get him, or something. It's rather bizarre. The other night, he climbed into bed with us while nursing Drew (pretty sure Drew's crying woke him up) and he told me he had a dream that he was on a school bus with the "big kids" and the school bus made him get off and then he couldn't find his way home. And while he's telling me this, he honest-to-God started crying. At 2:30 a.m. I was crushed. I felt so terrible for him! So I really believe there is some sort of fear there that we are going to leave and not come back. Once Drew and Catherine go to bed, James is on me like a fat kid on cake. He will not let me out of his sight. If I go downstairs to get something to drink and happen to take too long talking to Eric, he will come down adn find me and tell me he was worried because he didn't know where I was. So I think there's something there, but I really don't know what to do except let it run it's course.
Catherine:
Oh my, little girl, it has been a wild ride the past few weeks. We had your MRI, plus your allergy appointment. It was terrible to see them put you under for the MRI, but I am glad we got it done. Turns out, you have fluid in your inner ear (I was right, you asshole ENT doctor!). Why? Because of allergies, which we found out you have. But not environmental allergies, like we thought. You are allergic to... *drum roll* fucking bananas. Seriously? Milk and bananas, the two things you have at daycare EVERY DAY. We took milk out of your diet, but since it's such a low class, the allergist suggested just regular milk, cheese, milk based products like sour cream, but if it has milk baked into it, like cake or something else I cannot think of right now, you should be ok. Then we find out you're allergic to BANANAS? Again, seriously? I could not believe it. And what's even funnier is that you chow down bananas like they are going out of style. So obviously, we are no longer giving you bananas. Your runny noses are gone and the allergist said the fluid from her inner ear is most likely gone as well. You are honestly a very different little girl, even from a week ago. It finally seems like you are happy.
We have been working with the speech pathologist - she is more or less training us than she is working with Catherine. You can now make duck noises, pant like a dog (which is hilarious) say yes, mom and dad, and you have several noises for objects, but no actual words. But it's a start. I am excited to see how this summer goes.
Today was your second birthday. You weren't too excited about your gifts, but you LOVED your cake! And even though James blew out your candles, you seemed to really enjoy being sung to. You are so, SO sweet and love being a "mom." You have your babies that you carry with you everywhere, and you love pushing your little stroller around, putting them in it and throwing them to the ground a few feet later. You love helping me with Drew, including finding his pacifier and blanket any time I am holding him. You are SUCH a lover and you have the biggest heart.
You are starting to run, which looks more like a linebacker than a little girl, but you love to run around with James. You also love to play with the "big kids" but of course, it's difficult for you to keep up. They love playing with you (until you get tired and whiny!) and you love the attention. You could be pushed around in a stroller or pulled in a wagon ALL DAY LONG. You just sit like a little queen and enjoy the attention from everyone.
You are still small, still wearing 18 month clothes, but you are growing. We are moving forward, and from a year ago, that's huge.
Drew:
I just updated everyone (no one?) on your 3 months, but I can't believe how much you have changed in the course of these 3.5 months. Sunday night was a nightmare and I happened to see every hour on the clock. It was tough, and the next night was almost as bad, but Tuesday into Wednesday, you let me sleep for about 5 hours, which I so appreciated. I felt like a new person on Wednesday! You love cluster feeding at night, which kills me, but I deal with it. By about 9:00 p.m. I am touched out. Which is difficult because that's when James is getting REALLY clingy, and I can hardly handle it. Eric has been fairly good about things though, which is helpful. Sometimes I have to remind him that I can't do it all and he can't just let me do it all, but every once in awhile, he surprises me, and for that, I am thankful. Like tonight. I am blogging while you, Drew-boo, are downstairs, asleep in Eric's arms because while I was in the shower, you started crying. It seems like my one 20 minute shower every night is the only time I can get away. Which brings me to my next header...
Touched. Out.
I told Eric tonight I would like to go 10 minutes without someone needing something from me. Tonight, when we were packing up to go get our new couch (yay! new furniture!), I told Eric I was going to park in the street so he could easily back up the driveway to unload our couch. He said, "You should park behind the trailer." No. I don't want to fucking park behind the trailer. I want to park in the fucking street. I hate parking behind the trailer. I have to get out in the grass, and then the next morning, I have to walk through wet grass, with nice shoes, just to get into my car. And my car sticks out into the sidewalk, so it's hard to see the kids when they are running from one house to the next with the neighbors. So no. I don't need you telling me where to park my damn car! My dad used to do that too, and it would drive me nuts. "You should......" NO. I shouldn't do anything you want me to! I didn't ask for your damn suggestion! Overall, I just want people to not need something from me, or tell me what to do, for like, 10 fucking minutes. I just need 10. fucking. minutes. Ugh!
Mobility Yoga and PT Graduation
I had to skip last week's mobility yoga because something happened (not sure what, I can't remember back that far) and I couldn't make it. Ahh, yes. I forgot my damn milk at school, in a cooler without an ice pack. So I had to go back for it. Damnit! So I missed my second yoga class, but was able to go this past Monday. It was awesome. After a night from hell with Drew, a day from hell at school, I honestly did not want to go. But I am so glad I did. I'm not really into that whole namaste shit, but it was awesome to stretch my body and feel good while doing it. Then I had physical therapy on Wednesday and tadaaa! I graduated! I can officially feel my leg! And my foot! Although as I sit right now on this bed, it's tingling, but I'm sure it has to do with the fact that I'm sitting poorly. But seriously. I finally feel like I can walk normally, although it still takes a bit to get going from the sitting position, but I feel much more limber. I am going to look into yoga classes for the summer.
Battle of the Bulge
I am still at the weight I was when I blogged the last time after having the flu. Which is not a huge deal, since I figured I would bounce back up a bit after I started eating. But honestly, I am about 14 pounds from where I want to be, and that's pretty good. I still hate how I look and dressing this body is difficult, but I can honestly say I am starting to really tell a difference between the same clothes that were once pretty tight to now where they fit me snugly. Especially my nursing tops that I got right after I gave birth. Those are getting fairly loose, to the point where they shift in the middle of the night and I leak all over. It's awesome. So I've pulled out some of my old ones from post-Catherine and they are still a little tight, but better that than too big!
The Kitchen
Our kitchen backsplash came in, and I am excited for Eric to start putting it up. I can't believe we actually found one we both liked, but we also talked with a designer who led us away from glass tile and to natural stone back splash. And BOOM, that was it. Also, Eric got a huge discount for being a contractor and working out some deal that he would have his clients now pick their stone from this particular place. So I guess there are perks to having a home that is never finished: a contractor-husband who can get you good deals. All in all, we have done our kitchen remodel for about $8000 and our bathroom remodel for about $2000. Considering Eric would charge anywhere from $40-50,000 for our kitchen remodel in someone else's home, I think it's safe to say we are definitely ahead. It's nice to have almost 50% equity in a home. And once again, we are doing it all on our own. Buying a "fixer-upper" was the smartest thing we could have done for ourselves.
So that's it. Life is constantly moving, and I am always feeling like there truly aren't enough hours in a day, but summer is almost here, and life will slow down a bit. And for that, I am thankful!
Wednesday, May 4, 2016
Battle of the Bulge, Part III: 12 Weeks
Nothing helps you lose weight like having the flu.
I steadily puked my guts out last night, WHILE watching a 3 month old and a 2 year old, last night and into the early morning hours. Complete with a fever, chills and every ugly thing you can imagine that accompanies the flu. I think the most impressive part of it was that I was so determined to NOT dehydrate, and therefore lose my milk supply, that I drank a shit ton of water. Only to puke it back up a little later. It was pretty epic. Also epic? My bad ass parenting skills while Eric took James to his wee ball game. Somehow, I kept Catherine entertained, nursed Drew, and puked so hard I had to jump in the shower to rinse off. Pretty amazing that I survived, as I thought for sure I was going to die at about 3 a.m. But here I am, on the other side, having survived. Maybe that's the definition of a supermom.
So here I am, about 13 pounds from my goal. The hardest part about all of this has been trying to squeeze myself into clothes that were made for someone who weighs about 13 pounds less. I had a concert Monday night, and I put myself into my concert dress, but still felt like a fat pig. Eric thinks I have body dysmorphia, but I call it realism.
But I have to be honest, I am pretty proud that I have lost at least 10 pounds on my own since I started this journey 6 weeks ago. That's pretty stellar, but it also helps that I am breastfeeding. So I am down four more pounds thanks to the flu. It's been interesting to see how slowly the weight comes off, but at the same time, it has come off so quickly. I just started this journey.
I have signed up for "mobility yoga" through Des Moines University. Pretty much, it's yoga designed for people coming back from "injuries." I would consider having three huge babies in the span of four years injurious. I am doing all my exercises regularly (planks, clams, "superstars" and some stretches that throw me back to sophomore volleyball), but I am still having issues with my hips and not being able to feel my left leg/foot. After laying in bed all night last night and puking my guts out, and my back is killing me. In fact, I am having issues just walking around today. It sucks. A lot. But I will continue with my exercises, start my mobility yoga and hopefully, things will get better.
Otherwise, we are moving onward. Here's to week 12, down 38 pounds since I walked into the hospital to have Drew at 39 weeks and 6 days!
Sunday, April 10, 2016
The Battle of the Bulge: Part 3, Week 9.5 and a Family Update
The Battle of the Bulge
I'm not really sure where to start, so I guess I'll just follow the title of the post.
The Battle of the Bulge has been difficult. It's definitely the hardest it has been of all my pregnancies. Probably because I'm older and just a little bit more decrepit. I know going back to work has helped because I don't sit around all day, nursing a baby and baking stuff to eat while sitting and nursing a baby. I don't have the time, neither, to eat how I used to, so I am happy to say that in the 2.5 weeks I have started this terrible journey, I am down 5 pounds. Wahoo! And maybe, just maybe, tomorrow will take me to 6.
In all, keeping track of my weight every day (yep, every day. Obsessed much?), I have definitely seen a trend. I'll drop a couple of pounds, then gain back a half pound, then drop a couple more, then gain back. Maybe that's my metabolism ramping up after hibernating for, ummmm, 11 months or so. We shall see.
All in all, I'm happy with the progress, I just wish it were happening faster. However, I also understand that several things go into this: getting your metabolism to do what you need it to do, actually watching what you eat and even more important, not cutting so much that it will cause me to lose my milk supply. Which makes a good segue...
...and on that farm she had some milk...
Thanks to my trusty lactation cookies, my first week back to work was full of milk. Although I have to pump about every three hours, which sucks, I am getting milk out so much faster and only really have to pump about 10 minutes. Which is AWESOME. With Catherine, it seemed like it was a constant struggle and I would have to pump 20-25 minutes just to get enough for a bottle. With Drew, I am pumping an extra bottle a day, which obviously, I am freezing. I have no idea how that has happened, but the lactation consultant I went to see (what can I say? That mommy time is solid and I love talking with other moms) said that since I stopped breastfeeding, oh, A YEAR AGO, that my body is probably used to making milk.
It seems that my milk, however, gives Drew some horrible gas. I feel bad for him, as he struggles with it almost every day. And it's stinks! Holy hell!
BUT, he also eats a ton and is difficult to burp, much like my other kids. I still fully maintain that he overeats and spits the rest up. It's not typical spit-up that comes out, it's like the milk went down and comes right back up. But he seems to love comfort nursing, I just happen to have too much milk for him and he keeps getting too full. Which is another great segue...
Drew Michael
You had your two month check up, and you are a healthy 13 pounds. You are big and strong and LOVE your siblings. You love to smile and laugh and play on the floor. I was worried about my first week back - after the nightmare that was Catherine, I was hoping that we didn't go down the same path in regard to daycare not understanding the "structure" of bottle feeding breast milk, but we are doing great and it's awesome. Hooray!
Speaking of Catherine...
Catherine Lynn
*Sigh* I don't think the tubes are working and to be quite frank, I really think there is something else going on. I had a pity-party one day where I cried, thinking about how you aren't developing "normally." I was upset, sad, angry and worried about your future. I sat around wishing I would have done something different when you were first born.
After my 12 hour pity-party, I was like a dog with a bone. I have been on the phone with several agencies and have made sure that people are listening. We have an evaluation by the Area Education Agency on Thursday. Our physical therapist for Catherine has put in for an evaluation for an Occupational Therapist as well as a Speech Therapist. There are a myriad of things that are not going well for you, but at the end of the day, it's the fact that in one month since getting tubes, you've had two ear infections, and you have terrible balance. I mean, terrible. As far as mom-gut goes, I feel like there is something more going on with your ears. After your AEA evaluation, we have a follow-up at the ENT, and you can believe that I will be telling them that we're not leaving until we get some answers. I am not about to be dismissed. I am not angry that the tubes didn't work, but I honestly think there is something so much more that we have missed. And damnit, I want my baby girl to be ok. She still is not talking. We are hearing words every so often, but it's more of the same humming and pointing.
I know she isn't autistic - although I had my doubts once upon a time - but she doesn't exhibit the signs. Mostly, it's her speech and her walking/running/balance.
I am sad, but I am happy that we are on the path to doing SOMETHING. I am just upset that it wasn't seen and done awhile ago.
James Thomas
We start Wee Ball (Tee Ball with a bigger ball and only one base) next week, we were accepted into Preschool and James is growing up faster that I thought possible. I am sad that he is growing up so fast, but every stage is my favorite. I love every second of seeing him become a "big kid."
And speaking of kids, two are now crying. Off I go!
I'm not really sure where to start, so I guess I'll just follow the title of the post.
 |
| 5 Pounds down in 2 weeks! |
The Battle of the Bulge has been difficult. It's definitely the hardest it has been of all my pregnancies. Probably because I'm older and just a little bit more decrepit. I know going back to work has helped because I don't sit around all day, nursing a baby and baking stuff to eat while sitting and nursing a baby. I don't have the time, neither, to eat how I used to, so I am happy to say that in the 2.5 weeks I have started this terrible journey, I am down 5 pounds. Wahoo! And maybe, just maybe, tomorrow will take me to 6.
In all, keeping track of my weight every day (yep, every day. Obsessed much?), I have definitely seen a trend. I'll drop a couple of pounds, then gain back a half pound, then drop a couple more, then gain back. Maybe that's my metabolism ramping up after hibernating for, ummmm, 11 months or so. We shall see.
All in all, I'm happy with the progress, I just wish it were happening faster. However, I also understand that several things go into this: getting your metabolism to do what you need it to do, actually watching what you eat and even more important, not cutting so much that it will cause me to lose my milk supply. Which makes a good segue...
...and on that farm she had some milk...
Thanks to my trusty lactation cookies, my first week back to work was full of milk. Although I have to pump about every three hours, which sucks, I am getting milk out so much faster and only really have to pump about 10 minutes. Which is AWESOME. With Catherine, it seemed like it was a constant struggle and I would have to pump 20-25 minutes just to get enough for a bottle. With Drew, I am pumping an extra bottle a day, which obviously, I am freezing. I have no idea how that has happened, but the lactation consultant I went to see (what can I say? That mommy time is solid and I love talking with other moms) said that since I stopped breastfeeding, oh, A YEAR AGO, that my body is probably used to making milk.
It seems that my milk, however, gives Drew some horrible gas. I feel bad for him, as he struggles with it almost every day. And it's stinks! Holy hell!
BUT, he also eats a ton and is difficult to burp, much like my other kids. I still fully maintain that he overeats and spits the rest up. It's not typical spit-up that comes out, it's like the milk went down and comes right back up. But he seems to love comfort nursing, I just happen to have too much milk for him and he keeps getting too full. Which is another great segue...
Drew Michael
You had your two month check up, and you are a healthy 13 pounds. You are big and strong and LOVE your siblings. You love to smile and laugh and play on the floor. I was worried about my first week back - after the nightmare that was Catherine, I was hoping that we didn't go down the same path in regard to daycare not understanding the "structure" of bottle feeding breast milk, but we are doing great and it's awesome. Hooray!
Speaking of Catherine...
Catherine Lynn
*Sigh* I don't think the tubes are working and to be quite frank, I really think there is something else going on. I had a pity-party one day where I cried, thinking about how you aren't developing "normally." I was upset, sad, angry and worried about your future. I sat around wishing I would have done something different when you were first born.
After my 12 hour pity-party, I was like a dog with a bone. I have been on the phone with several agencies and have made sure that people are listening. We have an evaluation by the Area Education Agency on Thursday. Our physical therapist for Catherine has put in for an evaluation for an Occupational Therapist as well as a Speech Therapist. There are a myriad of things that are not going well for you, but at the end of the day, it's the fact that in one month since getting tubes, you've had two ear infections, and you have terrible balance. I mean, terrible. As far as mom-gut goes, I feel like there is something more going on with your ears. After your AEA evaluation, we have a follow-up at the ENT, and you can believe that I will be telling them that we're not leaving until we get some answers. I am not about to be dismissed. I am not angry that the tubes didn't work, but I honestly think there is something so much more that we have missed. And damnit, I want my baby girl to be ok. She still is not talking. We are hearing words every so often, but it's more of the same humming and pointing.
I know she isn't autistic - although I had my doubts once upon a time - but she doesn't exhibit the signs. Mostly, it's her speech and her walking/running/balance.
I am sad, but I am happy that we are on the path to doing SOMETHING. I am just upset that it wasn't seen and done awhile ago.
James Thomas
We start Wee Ball (Tee Ball with a bigger ball and only one base) next week, we were accepted into Preschool and James is growing up faster that I thought possible. I am sad that he is growing up so fast, but every stage is my favorite. I love every second of seeing him become a "big kid."
And speaking of kids, two are now crying. Off I go!
Thursday, March 24, 2016
The Battle of the Bulge, Part 3: Week 7
Considering I have three children under the age of four (which I feel like I mention a lot, but in all honesty, it's my entire life right now, so I have no choice but to mention it), these last seven weeks have been straight-up survival mode.
I have been stuffing my face with anything I can get my hands on. Combine that with the fact that my pubic bone/sciatic nerve are still bothering me, the fact that in these seven weeks, we have dealt with two surgeries, two bouts of the flu, another ear infection, recovery from having a baby, and that baby getting thrush, I really can't be too hard on myself.
But last Sunday, when I saw the picture that I took with my mother, grandmother and kids, I said to myself that I really need to take better care of myself.
First of all, I'm always hungry. ALWAYS. It sounds like an excuse, but seriously, I can't get enough food. And when you're in survival mode, you don't stop to count calories, or really, give a shit what you're eating. You could probably put something like squid in front of me and I wouldn't think twice about shoveling it into my mouth.
Second of all, did I mention I have three kids under four? I couldn't care less about counting calories or giving a shit what I put in my mouth. As long as it gets rid of the hunger pains.
Third of all, Drew is a fairly good baby, and in the afternoons, he takes a solid nap. Which allows me to utilize my new kitchen. I really like using my new kitchen, particular my "baking corner" where I have everything nicely and neatly stored and can access it with ease. Only the problem with that is I never bake anything healthy. Pumpkin bars? Blueberry muffins? Banana bread? Once I bake it, I shovel it in, just like the rest of it.
So going back to the picture, on Sunday when I got home with the kids, I decided that was when I was really going to take stock and invest in my weight. Considering I already have an issue with the way I look normally, I was horrified when I saw this photo.
I bought a scale, downloaded an app to help hold me accountable and away I have gone!
With my pregnancy, I was heavier starting out because of the anti-anxiety medicine I was on to deal with all of Catherine's issues (and the mom guilt that was incredibly heavy).
The combination of pubic bone and sciatic nerve pain did me in. I did a lot of sitting, and a lot of eating. From my typical, ideal weight of 160, I went in to be induced weighing 205. That's a whole 45 pounds gained, the most of any of my pregnancies.
So, I have been watching what I eat, and making sure I eat every two or three hours to keep the metabolism going. One of the big things my mom would always tell me when I talked about weight gain was that pop was the worst culprit. All that corn syrup! So funny story - the morning after I had Drew, I knew I needed a Mountain Dew or I would get a headache, so I had Eric bring the one from the previous day from the truck. I took one swig and thought I was going to throw up. It was horrible tasting! Thus began my taste aversion to all pop, which is bizarre, considering I used to drink it every day. But now I can't stand the sight or taste of it. So what does one person do when they rely on pop for all their caffeine needs, but can't drink it? Go to cappucino mix, of course! Which only has 120 calories per 4 tablespoons. So, that's what I have been drinking every morning. It will be interesting to see what I will do when I go back to work! But for now, that works.
So in all, I have been watching what I eat, and breastfeeding, of course, and here I am, down 4 pounds from Sunday. So, that was interestingly easy. The app that I have, of course, doesn't allow for calories burned through breastfeeding, so I just put it in as an exercise (and somedays, it is exercise!) and put the least amount that you might burn (400), and that helps to keep me accountable. It's nice to see that my "hard" work is doing something. Hopefully by this time next week I'm down at least 8 pounds. Hopefully!
I have been stuffing my face with anything I can get my hands on. Combine that with the fact that my pubic bone/sciatic nerve are still bothering me, the fact that in these seven weeks, we have dealt with two surgeries, two bouts of the flu, another ear infection, recovery from having a baby, and that baby getting thrush, I really can't be too hard on myself.
But last Sunday, when I saw the picture that I took with my mother, grandmother and kids, I said to myself that I really need to take better care of myself.
First of all, I'm always hungry. ALWAYS. It sounds like an excuse, but seriously, I can't get enough food. And when you're in survival mode, you don't stop to count calories, or really, give a shit what you're eating. You could probably put something like squid in front of me and I wouldn't think twice about shoveling it into my mouth.
Second of all, did I mention I have three kids under four? I couldn't care less about counting calories or giving a shit what I put in my mouth. As long as it gets rid of the hunger pains.
Third of all, Drew is a fairly good baby, and in the afternoons, he takes a solid nap. Which allows me to utilize my new kitchen. I really like using my new kitchen, particular my "baking corner" where I have everything nicely and neatly stored and can access it with ease. Only the problem with that is I never bake anything healthy. Pumpkin bars? Blueberry muffins? Banana bread? Once I bake it, I shovel it in, just like the rest of it.
So going back to the picture, on Sunday when I got home with the kids, I decided that was when I was really going to take stock and invest in my weight. Considering I already have an issue with the way I look normally, I was horrified when I saw this photo.
I bought a scale, downloaded an app to help hold me accountable and away I have gone!
 |
| 39 Weeks and incredibly heavy! Less than a week later, I went in to be induced! |
With my pregnancy, I was heavier starting out because of the anti-anxiety medicine I was on to deal with all of Catherine's issues (and the mom guilt that was incredibly heavy).
 |
| At James and Catherine's birthday parties, most likely about the time I got pregnant. I weighed approximately 165. |
 |
| I love taking fun pictures with my kiddos and this was just a quick snapshot/selfie. I was horrified when I saw this picture. At first, I thought surely it was just a bad angle. Then I saw the photo I took with my kids, my mother, and my grandmother. Nope, this is my reality! |
So on Sunday, I decided that enough was enough! Now that spring is here, we are coming out from under the dark rock that was our life for seven weeks. The only problem I have with all of this is that none of my clothes fit...
Do I own the typical flow-y shirts and looser pants from previous post-pregnancies? Or just having them in my typical wardrobe? Absolutely. But even some of those don't fit right, and it's not necessarily because I am big, but these boobs are out of control.
I always loathed being smaller chested, until I had the chance to take these 40C's, and depending, 40D's, out of a joyride. I fricken hate it. they are so big, I feel like they push my arms out from my sides. It's terrible. I can't wait to have my A/B's back!
 |
| Here they are, out of control! |
So in all, I have been watching what I eat, and breastfeeding, of course, and here I am, down 4 pounds from Sunday. So, that was interestingly easy. The app that I have, of course, doesn't allow for calories burned through breastfeeding, so I just put it in as an exercise (and somedays, it is exercise!) and put the least amount that you might burn (400), and that helps to keep me accountable. It's nice to see that my "hard" work is doing something. Hopefully by this time next week I'm down at least 8 pounds. Hopefully!
 |
| The first trial run with a new tunic, hair did, make-up on and ready for a work day! Only took me an hour and a half! |
'til next week!
Sunday, March 20, 2016
1.5 Months and Another Update
Last Friday night, I found myself miles away from showering, breastfeeding Drew while sitting on a children's stool in the bathroom while my other two children took a bath, a.k.a. dumping water from their cups onto the floor outside of the bath.
Oh, and I was also bawling. I was at the end of my rope. And my children aren't even home with me all day.
Drew had not slept in hours, and was constantly nursing. Eric had stupidly scheduled his vasectomy for earlier that morning. Catherine was developing another ear infection, while Drew was somehow getting pink-eye, and James was just being a 3.5 year old butt head, as some 3.5 year old's can be.
Did I mention that I was bawling?
At some point, Eric came up and got Drew from me, all while miraculously keeping his bag of peas on his balls in tact, which was pretty impressive. I got the kids out of the bath, cleaned up the mess on the floor, and prayed that bedtime would be early that night.
I somehow managed to find some time to shower, while Drew slept in Eric's arms as Eric iced himself in our recliner. The other two were in bed and I remember standing in the spray wondering how the fuck my life had ended up like this?
And what's even more exciting is that in the face of it all, I have to somehow hold myself together and be the matriarch that my entire family needs me to be. But on Friday night, I was done.
Saturday morning wasn't much better. I had gone to bed with wet hair, making it a disheveled mess on Saturday morning. I was wearing spit-up covered sweat pants that are too short, a nursing top that is not flattering at all, and I come downstairs to a house that is literally torn apart by two children because I had not had time to clean it up.
I came downstairs to a text message from my best friend saying, "I am headed your way!"
How could I have forgotten that she was coming to meet Drew? Even moreso, how could I call her and tell her not to come?
But that's exactly what I did. My house was a mess, my hair was a mess, my kids were a mess (because let's be honest, they didn't take baths, they played around in the water) and quite frankly, my life was a mess. I called, an anxiety-riddled, overwhelmed, mother with three kids under the age of 4 and my life seriously felt like it was falling apart.
And I was doing it all on my own, since Eric could hardly walk, let alone take care of three children.
A couple days before this, Eric's mom had asked if she could do anything since Catherine was getting tubes in her ears on Tuesday. I jokingly said, "You can come down this weekend and help, since Eric is getting snipped on Friday." We didn't hear anything, but on Saturday afternoon, here comes Terri and her boyfriend on their white steed-like pick-up truck to save the day. And the first thing they did was load up James and Catherine and take them to the library.
Did I mention that I cried?
They backed down the driveway and I sat on the couch and wept. I had not had a break in what seemed like a week. Between Catherine's tubes, Eric's vasectomy, Drew's unusual crying streak, and my trying to just keep the house going, I had not had a quiet, clean house in what felt like ages.
You would think all this crying would be a precursor to maybe getting some medicine for post-partum depression, but I've been through post-partum depression, and this is not it. This is just sincerely being overwhelmed by the demands brought on me by three children. And the person who is getting the brunt of my being pulled in nine million different directions is James.
James: "Mom, will you play with me?"
Me: "Absolutely, but Drew is crying, which means he's hungry. Let me feed him and then I will play with you."
And in the 20 minutes it takes for me to feed and burp Drew, 20 things have happened to pull my attention further away from that request.
I forgot to stir the meat in the crockpot. Oh shoot! I forgot to add the seasonings! While I'm in the kitchen, I'll put these dishes away. Oh wait, I have to redirect Catherine to play with something in the living room so she's not getting in the dishwasher or drawers. Crap, Drew is crying, I need to get his pacifier. Ugh, he came unswaddled! Catherine is getting into something she shouldn't. Drew is crying again. The cat wants outside. I trip over something and go to put it away.
And then James says, "Mom, are you ready to play with me?"
Shit! I forgot that I was going to play with him!
And so it goes, round and round like that, a sick cycle where I can't ever get ahead and where I feel like I am always neglecting one of my kids. But James the most because he is the one who needs me the least.
So I try to put aside small amounts of time with them. Sometimes it's James and Catherine together, such as this morning, watching George. Then I put Catherine down for her nap, and James and I watched some more Curious George. Once Drew is up, I'll take him downstairs and feed him.
And so it goes.
I have learned to forgive myself. I have learned to roll with the punches, not worry about "getting ready for my day," and there have even been a few days where I went without a shower, and even one day where I went without brushing my teeth (so gross!). But that was one day that has come and gone, and slowly, we are working into a routine with three kids.
I had no idea it was going to be so difficult.
So onward, to our updates!
Drew-boo:
You, sir, are gigantic. You eat like a champ, and I'm pumping extra milk here and there, which is exciting. You weigh about 12.5 pounds, so you're on par to be 13 pounds, maybe more, at your 2 month well-child check-up. I have put away all your newborn clothes (or rather, put them into bins to sell them at my next No-More-Kids yard sale), and have phased out almost all of your 0-3 month clothes. You are mostly in straight-up 3 month clothes, and surprisingly, they aren't even really that big on you. While we were back visiting family this weekend, I saw a picture of James at 3 months and holy moses, you look identical to him.
You are just now starting to smile and coo, which came slowly because you have been so miserable. You not only had a rash and fever last Sunday, but come to find out Wednesday, you had thrush. Which means I have thrush. I was confused as to why nursing had all of a sudden turned painful again, and I thought it was a lazy latch. So I went to my breastfeeding support group, as I religiously do every week, for an LC to check you latch. She took one look at your tongue and said, "oh my, he has thrush, bad!" So we went to the doctor, who wasn't our typical ped. because ours was out of town. She wasn't very helpful, and didn't tell me anything to help me with my thrush, so I posted on a parenting group that I'm a part of. And the replies I received? That the nystatin that was prescribed to Drew would not be helpful and to instead, use grapefruit seed extract. Umm, where the hell do you find something like that? I can tell you, not anywhere in town. After doing some research, it turns out that not only does GSE (grapefruit seed extract's street name, apparently) help, but also coconut oil. I religiously put coconut oil in his mouth every feeding, and it was been amazing. Combine that with the GSE, and he hardly has any blisters left in his mouth - mostly just a few on his cheeks. Not to mention, you are a much happier baby, and you're sleeping so much more soundly! This mama is thrilled.
Speaking of sleep, you have finally gotten into somewhat of a routine, which is a little weird. You will fall asleep after your last "night" feeding about 9:00-9:30 and wake up for your first middle-of-the-night feeding at 1:30 a.m. Exactly. Literally, there is no deviation in this at all. Whenever I hear you starting to stir and wake up, I check my phone (because sometimes, I'm so tired I'm not sure if I actually fell asleep or not). It's always 1:30 on the nose. You eat a lot in that time, and are usually done between 2:10 and 2:20 a.m. and God bless you, you fall right back asleep. It usually takes me a little while to get back to sleep after that, but then you're up again at 5:30 a.m. exactly. Again, there is absolutely NO deviation from this time. Not 1:31 a.m. or 5:31 a.m. It's always 1:30 a.m. or 5:30 a.m. on the nose. crazy. So it's exciting that you are actually going about 3.5 hours between feedings at night.
During the day, it's another story. Usually after that 5:30 a.m. feeding, it's another one at 8:30 a.m., then 10:30 or 11:00 and then you're down for the count until at least 3:30 or 4:00. Normally, I can feed you in the late afternoon right before I go get the other two from daycare. Somewhere in there, about once or twice a week, I try to pump some milk just to get a freezer stash going, but I would say the fact that you're gaining about a half pound (or more) a week, says that I have plenty of milk for you.
All in all, you are an easy baby, when you're not in pain from thrush, or coughing and stuffed up from a virus. Or being pummeled in the face with a rattle from Catherine. Welcome to the shitshow! :)
Catherine:
This weekend, I took a picture of you wearing horns and wearing a onesie that said "Little Princess" and boy can a picture speak a thousand words! I would say that is you, to a T, most of the time. You are frequently voicing your opinion, throwing temper tantrums (to which we ignore or threaten time-out, which puts the kabosh on those real quick), or pummeling Drew in the face with his blanket, rattle, or trying to stick his pacifier in his eye. If you're not trying to steal the pacifier for yourself. All in all, you love to help, you love getting into things, and you are pretty wild. I have a feeling in about 12 years, I will be doing everything to break a wild horse, but until then, I will try to bask in the fact that you are adorable most of the time.
You got your tubes in your ears March 8, and a week later, you had nasty, brownish/red/yellow goop coming out of it. Yep, another damn ear infection! Seriously? This one came with the typical fever, but the fever only stuck around about 12 hours, was lower grade than typical, and the nurse said if your ear was draining, the tubes were doing their job. I have also noticed since you got tubes that you have less of a runny nose. It seemed like we were constantly wiping your nose (or you were wiping it on something, which was awesome), and now, we still have to wipe your nose, but it seems like it is so much better than it was! For your ear infection, we just had to start the antibiotic ear drop regimen all over again, get a new prescription (there are so many damn prescriptions for our kids sitting in our kitchen cupboard, it's ridiculous), and hopefully, that will be the last ear infection we will see in a long while. Hopefully.
I have noticed that you are starting to be more verbal. You will point to things and use the same vowel for each, and I swear you are trying to say James. I also swear you are trying to say Drew. You can say Mom, which is adorable, but you won't say Dad (which you did before we started to see your speech regression). I suppose it will work it's way back, but it's so nice to see you actually starting to progress on your own, rather than us just hoping for something that will happen.
When they cleaned your ears prior to the surgery, the doctor said your ears weren't even fluid filled, but it was more like a jelly substance. So no wonder you couldn't hear! The doctor even said he guaranteed that you could hear better, even if the rest of our "issues" don't improve. Once we got you home, I noticed it right away, as it was 72 degrees, we had the windows open, and it was garbage day. That truck came into the cul-de-sac and was horribly loud, and you hated it. You are also very quick to react to barking dogs, which I am sure you haven't really heard before. You either scramble the other direction, or scramble into our arms.
You are still what I would call "needy" but you are beginning to be so much more independent. The most exciting thing is that you are actually starting to play with James. More times than not we are trying to keep you apart, but there have been glimpses of what it will be like when the two of you are a little older, and it melts my heart. At the end of all of this, I am so glad we had our kids really close together. I can't wait to see how close you will be when you're older.
James:
Oh, little boy, you are ready for a world beyond toddler-hood, and it makes me a little sad, but on the other hand, I am excited for it and for you. We signed you up for pre-school, but I haven't received any word on whether you were accepted. However, I did receive an email about a mandatory parent meeting for all students accepted. Ummm... where's the acceptance email? I haven't emailed the woman back, as I am sure I will get an acceptance email. For God's sakes, the registration is a Google Form, and I am a heavy google user. So I didn't have to put in any of my information, the google form auotmatically did it for me. So I just had to select the time of day I wanted James to go (morning or afternoon), and some of his information. I refreshed until the link was live at 7:01 p.m. and was finished at 7:02. I also credit my mad typing skills. :)
We also signed you up for Wee Ball, which is essentially a dumbed down version of Tee Ball. Although you won't be 4 by the cut-off, which would put you in the 3-4 year old division, I signed you up for the 4-5 year old division because you are 43 inches tall, you are 42 pounds, and honestly, you throw and kick a wicked ball. Everyone who has seen him kick and throw a ball have commented on how good he is at throwing, catching and kicking, It seems like you are growing up so fast.
Us:
It seems like Eric and I are passing ships in the night, but it's getting better. Just a little while ago, we had ten whole minutes on the couch by ourselves. No kids (James was upstairs watching George) and Iowa Basketball on the TV. It was glorious. Now that Eric has finished a couple of outstanding jobs, his work schedule is more manageable. His balls are healing, and things are good.
Not to mention, it's the first day of Spring!
I hear a baby crying! Lunch time!
Oh, and I was also bawling. I was at the end of my rope. And my children aren't even home with me all day.
Drew had not slept in hours, and was constantly nursing. Eric had stupidly scheduled his vasectomy for earlier that morning. Catherine was developing another ear infection, while Drew was somehow getting pink-eye, and James was just being a 3.5 year old butt head, as some 3.5 year old's can be.
Did I mention that I was bawling?
At some point, Eric came up and got Drew from me, all while miraculously keeping his bag of peas on his balls in tact, which was pretty impressive. I got the kids out of the bath, cleaned up the mess on the floor, and prayed that bedtime would be early that night.
I somehow managed to find some time to shower, while Drew slept in Eric's arms as Eric iced himself in our recliner. The other two were in bed and I remember standing in the spray wondering how the fuck my life had ended up like this?
And what's even more exciting is that in the face of it all, I have to somehow hold myself together and be the matriarch that my entire family needs me to be. But on Friday night, I was done.
Saturday morning wasn't much better. I had gone to bed with wet hair, making it a disheveled mess on Saturday morning. I was wearing spit-up covered sweat pants that are too short, a nursing top that is not flattering at all, and I come downstairs to a house that is literally torn apart by two children because I had not had time to clean it up.
I came downstairs to a text message from my best friend saying, "I am headed your way!"
How could I have forgotten that she was coming to meet Drew? Even moreso, how could I call her and tell her not to come?
But that's exactly what I did. My house was a mess, my hair was a mess, my kids were a mess (because let's be honest, they didn't take baths, they played around in the water) and quite frankly, my life was a mess. I called, an anxiety-riddled, overwhelmed, mother with three kids under the age of 4 and my life seriously felt like it was falling apart.
And I was doing it all on my own, since Eric could hardly walk, let alone take care of three children.
A couple days before this, Eric's mom had asked if she could do anything since Catherine was getting tubes in her ears on Tuesday. I jokingly said, "You can come down this weekend and help, since Eric is getting snipped on Friday." We didn't hear anything, but on Saturday afternoon, here comes Terri and her boyfriend on their white steed-like pick-up truck to save the day. And the first thing they did was load up James and Catherine and take them to the library.
Did I mention that I cried?
They backed down the driveway and I sat on the couch and wept. I had not had a break in what seemed like a week. Between Catherine's tubes, Eric's vasectomy, Drew's unusual crying streak, and my trying to just keep the house going, I had not had a quiet, clean house in what felt like ages.
You would think all this crying would be a precursor to maybe getting some medicine for post-partum depression, but I've been through post-partum depression, and this is not it. This is just sincerely being overwhelmed by the demands brought on me by three children. And the person who is getting the brunt of my being pulled in nine million different directions is James.
James: "Mom, will you play with me?"
Me: "Absolutely, but Drew is crying, which means he's hungry. Let me feed him and then I will play with you."
And in the 20 minutes it takes for me to feed and burp Drew, 20 things have happened to pull my attention further away from that request.
I forgot to stir the meat in the crockpot. Oh shoot! I forgot to add the seasonings! While I'm in the kitchen, I'll put these dishes away. Oh wait, I have to redirect Catherine to play with something in the living room so she's not getting in the dishwasher or drawers. Crap, Drew is crying, I need to get his pacifier. Ugh, he came unswaddled! Catherine is getting into something she shouldn't. Drew is crying again. The cat wants outside. I trip over something and go to put it away.
And then James says, "Mom, are you ready to play with me?"
Shit! I forgot that I was going to play with him!
And so it goes, round and round like that, a sick cycle where I can't ever get ahead and where I feel like I am always neglecting one of my kids. But James the most because he is the one who needs me the least.
So I try to put aside small amounts of time with them. Sometimes it's James and Catherine together, such as this morning, watching George. Then I put Catherine down for her nap, and James and I watched some more Curious George. Once Drew is up, I'll take him downstairs and feed him.
And so it goes.
I have learned to forgive myself. I have learned to roll with the punches, not worry about "getting ready for my day," and there have even been a few days where I went without a shower, and even one day where I went without brushing my teeth (so gross!). But that was one day that has come and gone, and slowly, we are working into a routine with three kids.
I had no idea it was going to be so difficult.
So onward, to our updates!
Drew-boo:
You, sir, are gigantic. You eat like a champ, and I'm pumping extra milk here and there, which is exciting. You weigh about 12.5 pounds, so you're on par to be 13 pounds, maybe more, at your 2 month well-child check-up. I have put away all your newborn clothes (or rather, put them into bins to sell them at my next No-More-Kids yard sale), and have phased out almost all of your 0-3 month clothes. You are mostly in straight-up 3 month clothes, and surprisingly, they aren't even really that big on you. While we were back visiting family this weekend, I saw a picture of James at 3 months and holy moses, you look identical to him.
You are just now starting to smile and coo, which came slowly because you have been so miserable. You not only had a rash and fever last Sunday, but come to find out Wednesday, you had thrush. Which means I have thrush. I was confused as to why nursing had all of a sudden turned painful again, and I thought it was a lazy latch. So I went to my breastfeeding support group, as I religiously do every week, for an LC to check you latch. She took one look at your tongue and said, "oh my, he has thrush, bad!" So we went to the doctor, who wasn't our typical ped. because ours was out of town. She wasn't very helpful, and didn't tell me anything to help me with my thrush, so I posted on a parenting group that I'm a part of. And the replies I received? That the nystatin that was prescribed to Drew would not be helpful and to instead, use grapefruit seed extract. Umm, where the hell do you find something like that? I can tell you, not anywhere in town. After doing some research, it turns out that not only does GSE (grapefruit seed extract's street name, apparently) help, but also coconut oil. I religiously put coconut oil in his mouth every feeding, and it was been amazing. Combine that with the GSE, and he hardly has any blisters left in his mouth - mostly just a few on his cheeks. Not to mention, you are a much happier baby, and you're sleeping so much more soundly! This mama is thrilled.
Speaking of sleep, you have finally gotten into somewhat of a routine, which is a little weird. You will fall asleep after your last "night" feeding about 9:00-9:30 and wake up for your first middle-of-the-night feeding at 1:30 a.m. Exactly. Literally, there is no deviation in this at all. Whenever I hear you starting to stir and wake up, I check my phone (because sometimes, I'm so tired I'm not sure if I actually fell asleep or not). It's always 1:30 on the nose. You eat a lot in that time, and are usually done between 2:10 and 2:20 a.m. and God bless you, you fall right back asleep. It usually takes me a little while to get back to sleep after that, but then you're up again at 5:30 a.m. exactly. Again, there is absolutely NO deviation from this time. Not 1:31 a.m. or 5:31 a.m. It's always 1:30 a.m. or 5:30 a.m. on the nose. crazy. So it's exciting that you are actually going about 3.5 hours between feedings at night.
During the day, it's another story. Usually after that 5:30 a.m. feeding, it's another one at 8:30 a.m., then 10:30 or 11:00 and then you're down for the count until at least 3:30 or 4:00. Normally, I can feed you in the late afternoon right before I go get the other two from daycare. Somewhere in there, about once or twice a week, I try to pump some milk just to get a freezer stash going, but I would say the fact that you're gaining about a half pound (or more) a week, says that I have plenty of milk for you.
All in all, you are an easy baby, when you're not in pain from thrush, or coughing and stuffed up from a virus. Or being pummeled in the face with a rattle from Catherine. Welcome to the shitshow! :)
Catherine:
This weekend, I took a picture of you wearing horns and wearing a onesie that said "Little Princess" and boy can a picture speak a thousand words! I would say that is you, to a T, most of the time. You are frequently voicing your opinion, throwing temper tantrums (to which we ignore or threaten time-out, which puts the kabosh on those real quick), or pummeling Drew in the face with his blanket, rattle, or trying to stick his pacifier in his eye. If you're not trying to steal the pacifier for yourself. All in all, you love to help, you love getting into things, and you are pretty wild. I have a feeling in about 12 years, I will be doing everything to break a wild horse, but until then, I will try to bask in the fact that you are adorable most of the time.
You got your tubes in your ears March 8, and a week later, you had nasty, brownish/red/yellow goop coming out of it. Yep, another damn ear infection! Seriously? This one came with the typical fever, but the fever only stuck around about 12 hours, was lower grade than typical, and the nurse said if your ear was draining, the tubes were doing their job. I have also noticed since you got tubes that you have less of a runny nose. It seemed like we were constantly wiping your nose (or you were wiping it on something, which was awesome), and now, we still have to wipe your nose, but it seems like it is so much better than it was! For your ear infection, we just had to start the antibiotic ear drop regimen all over again, get a new prescription (there are so many damn prescriptions for our kids sitting in our kitchen cupboard, it's ridiculous), and hopefully, that will be the last ear infection we will see in a long while. Hopefully.
I have noticed that you are starting to be more verbal. You will point to things and use the same vowel for each, and I swear you are trying to say James. I also swear you are trying to say Drew. You can say Mom, which is adorable, but you won't say Dad (which you did before we started to see your speech regression). I suppose it will work it's way back, but it's so nice to see you actually starting to progress on your own, rather than us just hoping for something that will happen.
When they cleaned your ears prior to the surgery, the doctor said your ears weren't even fluid filled, but it was more like a jelly substance. So no wonder you couldn't hear! The doctor even said he guaranteed that you could hear better, even if the rest of our "issues" don't improve. Once we got you home, I noticed it right away, as it was 72 degrees, we had the windows open, and it was garbage day. That truck came into the cul-de-sac and was horribly loud, and you hated it. You are also very quick to react to barking dogs, which I am sure you haven't really heard before. You either scramble the other direction, or scramble into our arms.
You are still what I would call "needy" but you are beginning to be so much more independent. The most exciting thing is that you are actually starting to play with James. More times than not we are trying to keep you apart, but there have been glimpses of what it will be like when the two of you are a little older, and it melts my heart. At the end of all of this, I am so glad we had our kids really close together. I can't wait to see how close you will be when you're older.
James:
Oh, little boy, you are ready for a world beyond toddler-hood, and it makes me a little sad, but on the other hand, I am excited for it and for you. We signed you up for pre-school, but I haven't received any word on whether you were accepted. However, I did receive an email about a mandatory parent meeting for all students accepted. Ummm... where's the acceptance email? I haven't emailed the woman back, as I am sure I will get an acceptance email. For God's sakes, the registration is a Google Form, and I am a heavy google user. So I didn't have to put in any of my information, the google form auotmatically did it for me. So I just had to select the time of day I wanted James to go (morning or afternoon), and some of his information. I refreshed until the link was live at 7:01 p.m. and was finished at 7:02. I also credit my mad typing skills. :)
We also signed you up for Wee Ball, which is essentially a dumbed down version of Tee Ball. Although you won't be 4 by the cut-off, which would put you in the 3-4 year old division, I signed you up for the 4-5 year old division because you are 43 inches tall, you are 42 pounds, and honestly, you throw and kick a wicked ball. Everyone who has seen him kick and throw a ball have commented on how good he is at throwing, catching and kicking, It seems like you are growing up so fast.
Us:
It seems like Eric and I are passing ships in the night, but it's getting better. Just a little while ago, we had ten whole minutes on the couch by ourselves. No kids (James was upstairs watching George) and Iowa Basketball on the TV. It was glorious. Now that Eric has finished a couple of outstanding jobs, his work schedule is more manageable. His balls are healing, and things are good.
Not to mention, it's the first day of Spring!
I hear a baby crying! Lunch time!
Thursday, September 25, 2014
Our Little Family: An Update
Breastfeeding: Four months in, and we're still going strong. I'm not a cow, like some women tend to be when they breastfeed this long, but I'm able to consistently produce enough. My lactation consultant told me that Catherine should not need any more than 4 ounces per feeding while at daycare, so that's what Christy was giving her, twice a day. Finally, Christy mentioned that maybe we should up it to 5 ounces, which stressed me out. I was only producing 10 ounces, which would mean there would be nothing left over for me to freeze at the end of the week, or for Christy to use in case Catherine had a sudden growth spurt. But we upped it to 10 ounces, and I've been keeping up. I am part of a breastfeeding support group on Facebook, and several times, mothers will post something about "low milk supply" because they're not producing more than what their baby eats. Well, duh (and I can say that now that I finally understand breastfeeding, thanks to many support groups, lactation consultants, phone calls to the hospital, and reading a shit-ton of books on it. Oh, and let's not forget, googling the shit out of it). Your body is only going to produce what your baby eats. The other day at Catherine's four-month appointment (where she weighed a whopping 12 pounds, 3 ounces... 4.5 pounds less than James at four months!) the doctor showed some concern regarding her weight, but not much considering she is still gaining steadily. Luckily, her appointment was during the time she typically nurses, so I was able to breastfeed and weigh her. She ate 6 ounces. Multiply that by 5, and she's eating anywhere from 25-30 ounces a day. That's more than the lactation consultant recommends, but she's a hungry girl, I guess! Luckily, I'm able to produce that much, and I'm fortunate to have a job that allows me to pump 3 times a day in order to provide for my child. I am also excited that I am no longer in the panicky stage of breastfeeding. I am in the smooth-sailing stage, where now all I need to do is nurse Catherine when she needs/wants it. From here on out, my milk supply will begin to taper off, and then diminish as we start adding more and more solids to her diet. Crazy to think that this is the peak season, so to speak. But I'm thankful it's going well, and I am so grateful to all the people who have helped along the way. Oh yeah, and for Google too. Thank God.
Battle of the Bulge: The Battle of the Bulge has been won, but the Battle of the Body Image is on-going. To the point where we got our family photos back, and I cried to Eric because I felt like I looked terrible. My hips were too wide, I have love-handles, my thighs touch together. Oh, and let's not forget, I just had a baby, so even though I'm below pre-preggo weight, I'm still "misshapen." And who knows if I'll ever get back to the body I had before. So just today, I was looking at the pictures, and I tried to look at them from my husband's point of view, a guy who tells me nearly every day how beautiful I am to him. I used to hate it when he would say things like that to me. But after trying to be a better wife, I have realized I am very lucky to have a husband who still thinks that about me, two kids and 10 years later. I'm not the 19-year-old he fell for anymore, in more ways than one. He loves me for who I am; big hips, loud demeanor and quick mood swings! So maybe I need to start looking at how I see myself. Instead of seeing love handles that stick out in a weird way, maybe I need to start looking at the fact that I haven't been this weight, or looked this good, in over three years. I love my long hair, which is weird because I've always wanted to keep it short for easy maintenance. No, long hair is easy maintenance! I think my eyes are really pretty. For not working out and just having a baby, my stomach is surprisingly flat. I have good looking legs. And all in all, for the most part, I feel good about myself. It's just hard not to see photos and zero in on those things that aren't "perfect," especially for a perfectionist like me!
The Daily Poop Scoop (and Sleep Update): Catherine had some poop issues earlier in life, and it seems as though they are still plaguing her. On Monday night, she became fussy about 6:30 and by 7:00 was scream-crying to the point where my anxiety was going to cause me to crawl out of my skin. I finally gave her a bath and while she settled and sat, soothed from the warm water, I realized she hadn't had a bowel movement all day. When I really thought about it, she hadn't had a bowel movement all weekend. That was three and a half days without poop. No wonder she was fussy. So I did what any good mom would do - wet a wash cloth and tried to stimulate her rectum. Never thought there would be a day where I could add that to my resume of amazing things I've done in this lifetime. But there you had it, and that's all it took. She started pooping... and straining to poop, then pooping again. I took paper towel after paper towel to catch it when it would come out so it wouldn't get in the water and make it nasty. It was a dirty job, but Eric was getting James, who had been puking all weekend and into Monday, ready for bed, so I was on my own. Following the poop-scapade, I put Catherine to my breast to nurse and she fell instantly asleep. My milk didn't even let down (which led to some crazy-full boobs the next morning!) And she slept all night. So that's where the sleep issues come in. Once she sleeps, this girl sleeps. But it takes her so much to get to sleep. It's the most grating, anxiety-inducing two hours of my life. So last night, I just let go of my anxiety (who knew it would be so easy?) and decided that I was going to let her cry it out. After 20 minutes of screaming, it was apparent she was NOT going to sleep. So I nursed her, which she did NOT want. Then I tried baby massage. I have never massaged a baby in my life, nor have I ever taken any special massage class. I just rubbed her little legs and funny enough, when I got to her hips/butt cheeks, that's when she calmed down. Again, not something I thought I would be able to add to my resume in this lifetime, but there you have it. Professional Butt Massager. Once she calmed down enough, I put her in her bassinet (she's still small enough that we just use her bassinet). And boom. Immediate scream-crying started all over again. Luckily my nerves were that tired that I was able to walk away and let her cry it out for the 15 minutes it took her to eventually fall asleep. She did end up waking up last night, for the first time in ages, but she soothed herself back to sleep. Tonight, I put her to bed at 5:30, an hour and a half before she normally falls asleep. She talked to herself for about 15 minutes and then I heard nothing on the monitor. When i checked on her, she was fast asleep, and stayed that way. When I woke her up to change her diaper and dream feed her, she was asleep by the time my milk let down (but thankfully because of intelligent design, she continues to suck and thus still gets full. Beautiful!). I put her in her bassinet and she's been sleeping ever since. Hopefully, this sleep pattern continues!
Speech Regression: A few weeks back, I blogged about James' speech regression. The progress he has made has been amazing. He talks so frequently now! He needs to work on his diction a bit for better understanding by strangers, but to us, he talks much clearer than he ever has. Tonight, I asked him if he had to pee, and he said, "Uh-uh. No pee, mama, no pee." So adorable! I'm so thankful we're heading in the right direction. It's awesome to hear all the new words he knows! And somewhere in between that post and this one, he learned his alphabet (upper and lower case) and his numbers up until 10. What? One day we were watching Super Why (God bless PBS) and boom - he pointed out and said all the letters that popped up on the screen. Holy crap! It is awesome as he is so proud. He is starting to spell short words, like "B-O-B, Bob!" for Bob the Builder, and things like that, which is much faster than I would have anticipated. So even though he doesn't totally communicate how we'd like him to, the kid can spell for God's sake. We've got to take what we can get.
Illnesses: Dear God, help us. Last week, I was sick with a cold and fever. I've also been blessed with viral-induced asthma, which doesn't allow me to properly cough anything up, so bacteria just sits in my lungs and manifests into something worse. Normally, every year, I end up with walking pneumonia or something. But this time, at Catherine's four month appointment, I mentioned it and the doctor gave me a steroid inhaler to use every morning and night, and another one for "attacks." I can tell a difference already, which is amazing. I wish I would have figured this out aBeingbout 5 years ago!! Hopefully this year, I don't get sick! However, once I got over my fever, James got the flu. The nasty diarrhea/vomiting flu. It was horrible! Following that, today Christy called us to come get him because he had a fever! Seriously? It's not even October yet, so I'm dreading the winter. Hopefully, this is the worst of it? Yeah right....
Being a Better Wife: My mother is an incredibly critical person, I an inherited that trait ten-fold. I am a perfectionist and I expect people who I surround myself with to be perfect as well. Only, I expect them to be perfect the way I want them to be perfect. So instead of being critical, I've tried really hard to look at the positive things. Instead of the fact that Eric has the garage so full of shit that I can't even walk through to find anything, I am trying to concentrate on the fact that the reason it's full of shit is because of all the work he's doing on other people's houses, which brings in money that allows us to live the way we live. Things like that. I told him tonight that I feel like I'm in a much better mood most of the time now that I'm not wasting energy hating the things he does. I have to admit, he does a lot, he works hard, and he's a great dad. So... we'll see how long this Positive Polly charade keeps up. I'm trying really hard, which is good.
So there you have it. There are so many things I've been wanting to blog about, I thought I'd just put them all in one post rather than several other posts. Who posts 5 things in one day, any way? Seriously? And, let's face it, very few people, if any, read this blog. It's really for me to chronicle this life as I live, and love, it.
Let's hope for a good night's sleep... :)
Battle of the Bulge: The Battle of the Bulge has been won, but the Battle of the Body Image is on-going. To the point where we got our family photos back, and I cried to Eric because I felt like I looked terrible. My hips were too wide, I have love-handles, my thighs touch together. Oh, and let's not forget, I just had a baby, so even though I'm below pre-preggo weight, I'm still "misshapen." And who knows if I'll ever get back to the body I had before. So just today, I was looking at the pictures, and I tried to look at them from my husband's point of view, a guy who tells me nearly every day how beautiful I am to him. I used to hate it when he would say things like that to me. But after trying to be a better wife, I have realized I am very lucky to have a husband who still thinks that about me, two kids and 10 years later. I'm not the 19-year-old he fell for anymore, in more ways than one. He loves me for who I am; big hips, loud demeanor and quick mood swings! So maybe I need to start looking at how I see myself. Instead of seeing love handles that stick out in a weird way, maybe I need to start looking at the fact that I haven't been this weight, or looked this good, in over three years. I love my long hair, which is weird because I've always wanted to keep it short for easy maintenance. No, long hair is easy maintenance! I think my eyes are really pretty. For not working out and just having a baby, my stomach is surprisingly flat. I have good looking legs. And all in all, for the most part, I feel good about myself. It's just hard not to see photos and zero in on those things that aren't "perfect," especially for a perfectionist like me!
The Daily Poop Scoop (and Sleep Update): Catherine had some poop issues earlier in life, and it seems as though they are still plaguing her. On Monday night, she became fussy about 6:30 and by 7:00 was scream-crying to the point where my anxiety was going to cause me to crawl out of my skin. I finally gave her a bath and while she settled and sat, soothed from the warm water, I realized she hadn't had a bowel movement all day. When I really thought about it, she hadn't had a bowel movement all weekend. That was three and a half days without poop. No wonder she was fussy. So I did what any good mom would do - wet a wash cloth and tried to stimulate her rectum. Never thought there would be a day where I could add that to my resume of amazing things I've done in this lifetime. But there you had it, and that's all it took. She started pooping... and straining to poop, then pooping again. I took paper towel after paper towel to catch it when it would come out so it wouldn't get in the water and make it nasty. It was a dirty job, but Eric was getting James, who had been puking all weekend and into Monday, ready for bed, so I was on my own. Following the poop-scapade, I put Catherine to my breast to nurse and she fell instantly asleep. My milk didn't even let down (which led to some crazy-full boobs the next morning!) And she slept all night. So that's where the sleep issues come in. Once she sleeps, this girl sleeps. But it takes her so much to get to sleep. It's the most grating, anxiety-inducing two hours of my life. So last night, I just let go of my anxiety (who knew it would be so easy?) and decided that I was going to let her cry it out. After 20 minutes of screaming, it was apparent she was NOT going to sleep. So I nursed her, which she did NOT want. Then I tried baby massage. I have never massaged a baby in my life, nor have I ever taken any special massage class. I just rubbed her little legs and funny enough, when I got to her hips/butt cheeks, that's when she calmed down. Again, not something I thought I would be able to add to my resume in this lifetime, but there you have it. Professional Butt Massager. Once she calmed down enough, I put her in her bassinet (she's still small enough that we just use her bassinet). And boom. Immediate scream-crying started all over again. Luckily my nerves were that tired that I was able to walk away and let her cry it out for the 15 minutes it took her to eventually fall asleep. She did end up waking up last night, for the first time in ages, but she soothed herself back to sleep. Tonight, I put her to bed at 5:30, an hour and a half before she normally falls asleep. She talked to herself for about 15 minutes and then I heard nothing on the monitor. When i checked on her, she was fast asleep, and stayed that way. When I woke her up to change her diaper and dream feed her, she was asleep by the time my milk let down (but thankfully because of intelligent design, she continues to suck and thus still gets full. Beautiful!). I put her in her bassinet and she's been sleeping ever since. Hopefully, this sleep pattern continues!
Speech Regression: A few weeks back, I blogged about James' speech regression. The progress he has made has been amazing. He talks so frequently now! He needs to work on his diction a bit for better understanding by strangers, but to us, he talks much clearer than he ever has. Tonight, I asked him if he had to pee, and he said, "Uh-uh. No pee, mama, no pee." So adorable! I'm so thankful we're heading in the right direction. It's awesome to hear all the new words he knows! And somewhere in between that post and this one, he learned his alphabet (upper and lower case) and his numbers up until 10. What? One day we were watching Super Why (God bless PBS) and boom - he pointed out and said all the letters that popped up on the screen. Holy crap! It is awesome as he is so proud. He is starting to spell short words, like "B-O-B, Bob!" for Bob the Builder, and things like that, which is much faster than I would have anticipated. So even though he doesn't totally communicate how we'd like him to, the kid can spell for God's sake. We've got to take what we can get.
Illnesses: Dear God, help us. Last week, I was sick with a cold and fever. I've also been blessed with viral-induced asthma, which doesn't allow me to properly cough anything up, so bacteria just sits in my lungs and manifests into something worse. Normally, every year, I end up with walking pneumonia or something. But this time, at Catherine's four month appointment, I mentioned it and the doctor gave me a steroid inhaler to use every morning and night, and another one for "attacks." I can tell a difference already, which is amazing. I wish I would have figured this out aBeingbout 5 years ago!! Hopefully this year, I don't get sick! However, once I got over my fever, James got the flu. The nasty diarrhea/vomiting flu. It was horrible! Following that, today Christy called us to come get him because he had a fever! Seriously? It's not even October yet, so I'm dreading the winter. Hopefully, this is the worst of it? Yeah right....
Being a Better Wife: My mother is an incredibly critical person, I an inherited that trait ten-fold. I am a perfectionist and I expect people who I surround myself with to be perfect as well. Only, I expect them to be perfect the way I want them to be perfect. So instead of being critical, I've tried really hard to look at the positive things. Instead of the fact that Eric has the garage so full of shit that I can't even walk through to find anything, I am trying to concentrate on the fact that the reason it's full of shit is because of all the work he's doing on other people's houses, which brings in money that allows us to live the way we live. Things like that. I told him tonight that I feel like I'm in a much better mood most of the time now that I'm not wasting energy hating the things he does. I have to admit, he does a lot, he works hard, and he's a great dad. So... we'll see how long this Positive Polly charade keeps up. I'm trying really hard, which is good.
So there you have it. There are so many things I've been wanting to blog about, I thought I'd just put them all in one post rather than several other posts. Who posts 5 things in one day, any way? Seriously? And, let's face it, very few people, if any, read this blog. It's really for me to chronicle this life as I live, and love, it.
Let's hope for a good night's sleep... :)
Sunday, September 14, 2014
Battle of the Bulge: Week 17...? And a half?
I have no idea where I am on my Battle of the Bulge updates. In fact, I only know that Catherine will be four months old on the twentieth, which is... next... Sunday?
School started and I now have two full time jobs. Teacher and mom. For eight hours a day, students need me. Then for the remaining 5-6 where I am NOT sleeping, my family needs me. With so much going on, I have lost track of time.
So out of curiosity today, I stepped on the scale. 157.2. In a month I have lost about 2 more pounds. I don't know what it is about my family gene, but somehow it allows us to look thinner than we really are. The other day while having lunch with my coworkers, my pregnant colleague was lamenting that she had gained ten pounds in four weeks, putting her weight at 160. Not thinking, I said, "Oh! That's what I weigh!" And my colleagues could not believe it. So that was awesome.
The following day, a student exclaimed that of I lose any more weight I would be anorexic. An odd compliment but I guess I will take it.
Overall I am feeling pretty good. I am fitting back into clothes I have not seen since before James was born and people are starting to genuinely comment, instead of the "You look great (for just having a baby)!"
Onward!
School started and I now have two full time jobs. Teacher and mom. For eight hours a day, students need me. Then for the remaining 5-6 where I am NOT sleeping, my family needs me. With so much going on, I have lost track of time.
So out of curiosity today, I stepped on the scale. 157.2. In a month I have lost about 2 more pounds. I don't know what it is about my family gene, but somehow it allows us to look thinner than we really are. The other day while having lunch with my coworkers, my pregnant colleague was lamenting that she had gained ten pounds in four weeks, putting her weight at 160. Not thinking, I said, "Oh! That's what I weigh!" And my colleagues could not believe it. So that was awesome.
The following day, a student exclaimed that of I lose any more weight I would be anorexic. An odd compliment but I guess I will take it.
Overall I am feeling pretty good. I am fitting back into clothes I have not seen since before James was born and people are starting to genuinely comment, instead of the "You look great (for just having a baby)!"
Onward!
Wednesday, August 20, 2014
Battle of the Bulge: Week 13
So I missed Week 12, and I am sure the 2.2 people who might actually read this blog didn't miss it much. School started and I hit the ground running. And when I say hit the ground, it means someone hit the fast forward button on my life and holy shit, I am busy. Getting up earlier than I ever have before, getting myself ready, nursing Catherine, getting her ready, getting James ready, getting them both to daycare after packing a dairy-soy-egg-free lunch for myself, teaching a full day of school, getting home and nursing Catherine again, feeding my family, nursing Catherine, an not getting enough sleep all have left this blog in the dust. But... The show mist go on.
I stepped on the scale tonight for the first time in... Well... Two weeks. 159 on the money. That's after a full day of lactation cookies to help keep supply up while pumping at work, past salad, and some dinner. I can honestly say I am under pre-pregnancy weight exactly 3 months postpartum.
But I hate this body. My boobs are huge and my favorite shirts are too short for my already-long torso. My belly and hips are still thicker, so most pants/shorts still don't fit. People tell me I look great but I don't see it. I only see a very tired mom uncomfortable in a foreign body.
But I have lost the weight I wanted to. Its just interesting because I am not as happy as I thought I would be. I wonder if that's what is wrong with people who have eating disorders? Either way, I love food too much to even consider an eating disorder. Even my dairy-soy-egg free food is better than not eating at all!
So I will trudge onward. Experts say it takes a full year fr your body to get back, if ever, to its pre-pregnancy shape. So I will, again, trudge onward! Here's to Week 14 and most likely 15...
I stepped on the scale tonight for the first time in... Well... Two weeks. 159 on the money. That's after a full day of lactation cookies to help keep supply up while pumping at work, past salad, and some dinner. I can honestly say I am under pre-pregnancy weight exactly 3 months postpartum.
But I hate this body. My boobs are huge and my favorite shirts are too short for my already-long torso. My belly and hips are still thicker, so most pants/shorts still don't fit. People tell me I look great but I don't see it. I only see a very tired mom uncomfortable in a foreign body.
But I have lost the weight I wanted to. Its just interesting because I am not as happy as I thought I would be. I wonder if that's what is wrong with people who have eating disorders? Either way, I love food too much to even consider an eating disorder. Even my dairy-soy-egg free food is better than not eating at all!
So I will trudge onward. Experts say it takes a full year fr your body to get back, if ever, to its pre-pregnancy shape. So I will, again, trudge onward! Here's to Week 14 and most likely 15...
Tuesday, August 5, 2014
Battle of the Bulge: Week 11 (What Bulge?)
this is going to have to be quick because a certain someone is being baptized in less than two weeks and I have ahouse full of people to prepare for. On today's docket is cleaning the basement so the kids can have some place to play if it's hot or storming.
Looking in the mirror today I finally felt good. Stepping on the scale I felt even better. somewhere between 160. 8 and 161. I'd call that a success.
While cleaning the basement I found a Christmas card that my mom sent out when James was six month old. I remember being horrified that she would send out a card with pictures in which I look so terrible. We took the pictures when James was 3 months old and those pictures were taken almost exactly two years ago to the day. I can honestly say that I was at least 175 pounds if not more. So for fun here is a picture of then and now.
Onto week 12.
Looking in the mirror today I finally felt good. Stepping on the scale I felt even better. somewhere between 160. 8 and 161. I'd call that a success.
While cleaning the basement I found a Christmas card that my mom sent out when James was six month old. I remember being horrified that she would send out a card with pictures in which I look so terrible. We took the pictures when James was 3 months old and those pictures were taken almost exactly two years ago to the day. I can honestly say that I was at least 175 pounds if not more. So for fun here is a picture of then and now.
Onto week 12.
Tuesday, July 29, 2014
The Battle of the Bulge: Week 10 (Say What?)
One-hundred-sixty-whaaaaa????
Before I get to that, I want to say this - I have received a surprising amount of compliments the past two days. Our daycare provider said, "You're looking really good!" and of course, my husband said something along the lines that if someone told him I weighed 160-some pounds he wouldn't believe them. I have seen a large number of students on the past few days, most of which have mentioned something about how I look "really good for just having a baby" and my neighbor mentioned something last night. With everything I have been up to in the past few days I didn't realize that today was "weigh-in" day. So I just went and stepped on the scale.
161.8.
Seriously? How did that happen? Three pounds might not make a difference but maybe it does in this case. I was floored.
In reading about how to balance my hormones while breastfeeding (avoiding certain foods etc. and when they are most likely to fluxuate) I read that somewhere between 2-4 months, your hormones balance out and you're able to better lose weight. I'd say, so far, that's an accurate statement.
So here I am, within 2 pounds of pre-pregnancy weight and within arms reach of where I want to be. It was my goal to be at my pre-pregnancy weight by the time school starts and I will hopefully be there. But if I am not, its OK because today, looking in the mirror, I feel like I look good. Albeit orange since I have a sunburn on top of my tan... But good, nonetheless...
Here's to week 11, and less than 2 weeks to the start of school!
Before I get to that, I want to say this - I have received a surprising amount of compliments the past two days. Our daycare provider said, "You're looking really good!" and of course, my husband said something along the lines that if someone told him I weighed 160-some pounds he wouldn't believe them. I have seen a large number of students on the past few days, most of which have mentioned something about how I look "really good for just having a baby" and my neighbor mentioned something last night. With everything I have been up to in the past few days I didn't realize that today was "weigh-in" day. So I just went and stepped on the scale.
161.8.
Seriously? How did that happen? Three pounds might not make a difference but maybe it does in this case. I was floored.
In reading about how to balance my hormones while breastfeeding (avoiding certain foods etc. and when they are most likely to fluxuate) I read that somewhere between 2-4 months, your hormones balance out and you're able to better lose weight. I'd say, so far, that's an accurate statement.
So here I am, within 2 pounds of pre-pregnancy weight and within arms reach of where I want to be. It was my goal to be at my pre-pregnancy weight by the time school starts and I will hopefully be there. But if I am not, its OK because today, looking in the mirror, I feel like I look good. Albeit orange since I have a sunburn on top of my tan... But good, nonetheless...
Here's to week 11, and less than 2 weeks to the start of school!
Tuesday, July 22, 2014
The Battle of the Bulge: Week 9
As James would say, "yyyyuck!"
That's what I thought looking in the mirror this morning. I have bags under my eyes from being up twice in the middle of the night with Catherine, and to top it off, I couldn't sleep in between those two feedings... So I am looking mighty fine this morning. Furthering my negative thoughts is the above "selfie" I chose to take of myself from the front rather from the side. Again, as my little handsome-pants would say... "Yyyyyyuck!"
The thing I think I hate most about poat-pregnancy is the extra skin. If you think about it, your skin stretches an extraordinary amount while pregnant. For Gods sake, I have had two human beings between 8 1/2 and 9 pounds stretch that skin out. Its bound to take a while to bounce back.
But while I sit here at 164.4 pounds and say that, it's hard to look at. I am not used to having things jiggle or clothes look bad. I am not used to having to carefully dress myself so all the right parts look good and all the bad parts don't look so bad. O am used to throwing on clothes and walking out the door.
So, for fun while Catherine takes her 3 hour morning nap, I threw some outfits together - mainly ones that I would wear to work and the one I am wearing now.
Don't mind the spackle and mud - welcome to home remodeling. Also, the ugly green walls will eventually be white/grey. Of e ever get around to it!
So there you have it. The two above outfits are what I would wear to work and the third is the one I am wearing to Catherine's doctor's appointment today. I don't know what I look like to the outside person but to me, I look like ten pounds of shit stuffed into a 5 pound bag. But in all, looking back at professional family photos taken when James was 3 months old, I look smashing compared to that. So really... I can't complain too much.
Here's to week 10! Onward!
That's what I thought looking in the mirror this morning. I have bags under my eyes from being up twice in the middle of the night with Catherine, and to top it off, I couldn't sleep in between those two feedings... So I am looking mighty fine this morning. Furthering my negative thoughts is the above "selfie" I chose to take of myself from the front rather from the side. Again, as my little handsome-pants would say... "Yyyyyyuck!"
The thing I think I hate most about poat-pregnancy is the extra skin. If you think about it, your skin stretches an extraordinary amount while pregnant. For Gods sake, I have had two human beings between 8 1/2 and 9 pounds stretch that skin out. Its bound to take a while to bounce back.
But while I sit here at 164.4 pounds and say that, it's hard to look at. I am not used to having things jiggle or clothes look bad. I am not used to having to carefully dress myself so all the right parts look good and all the bad parts don't look so bad. O am used to throwing on clothes and walking out the door.
So, for fun while Catherine takes her 3 hour morning nap, I threw some outfits together - mainly ones that I would wear to work and the one I am wearing now.
So there you have it. The two above outfits are what I would wear to work and the third is the one I am wearing to Catherine's doctor's appointment today. I don't know what I look like to the outside person but to me, I look like ten pounds of shit stuffed into a 5 pound bag. But in all, looking back at professional family photos taken when James was 3 months old, I look smashing compared to that. So really... I can't complain too much.
Here's to week 10! Onward!
Tuesday, July 15, 2014
The Battle of the Bulge: Week 8
Well, cutting dairy, soy and egg out of my diet sire has decreased my bloating! I didn't realize how bloated you would get by eating that stuff! However my weight hasn't really gone anywhere. Sitting between 165 (last weekend and yesterday) and 167 (today). Weird how it moves around so Mich. Last week, I got the flu and when I went to the doctors office, I was 165. So we will go with that.
I know I have been eating much healthier thanks to this terrible diet, but it's helping Catherine so I will keep on it. Wahoo!
Til next week!
I know I have been eating much healthier thanks to this terrible diet, but it's helping Catherine so I will keep on it. Wahoo!
Til next week!
Saturday, July 12, 2014
With or Without
A lot of people have no idea that my husband is a recovering alcoholic. I had no idea, either, until we moved in together after two years that he was, at that time, an alcoholic. I always thought he really liked to have a good time and I couldn't ever really tell how drunk he was. I would rarely spend the night at his place so I would usually leave to go sleep in my own bed before the "witching hour" or when the alcohol would really start to take hold.
5 months before we got married, the truth was inevitably staring me in the face. To save a long story for another day, we decided to still get married, but even walking down the aisle to say my vows I had no idea if this marriage would work.
Now eight years of marriage, and sobriety, later, I can say that my husband has not had one slip. When offered a beer at a party, he will simply explain that he's 'not very good at drinking' and I have never seen one person scoff or reject that answer. When at a bar, which is less and less as we get older, he will tell me when he needs to leave because as he says, "If you in the barber chair long enough, you are bound to get a hair cut."
I have always been so proud of him, but have never truly known what its like to give something like that up. I am Methodist and never had to give anything up for lent. So when the doctor told me that I had to give up dairy and soy, and then on my own accord, I didn't really imagine how difficult it would be to do.
It is harder than shit. I have noticed in the few days that I have been on this special diet that soy is in everything. If I want to eat anything, I have to check the label first. It means watching my husband put Velveeta on his burger... And then watch him enjoy eating it. It is hell.
And yet, I am doing it because I know I have to do it for my daughter. It's harder than I imagined. I am thankful I only have to do it for the time that I am breastfeeding. I don't have to do it any longer than that. I can't imagine having to do it for the rest of my life!
But here we are. And I will keep going, just like my husband, because I have to. It's empowering, but also one of the hardest things I have ever done. At least I still have my peanut butter captain crunch...
5 months before we got married, the truth was inevitably staring me in the face. To save a long story for another day, we decided to still get married, but even walking down the aisle to say my vows I had no idea if this marriage would work.
Now eight years of marriage, and sobriety, later, I can say that my husband has not had one slip. When offered a beer at a party, he will simply explain that he's 'not very good at drinking' and I have never seen one person scoff or reject that answer. When at a bar, which is less and less as we get older, he will tell me when he needs to leave because as he says, "If you in the barber chair long enough, you are bound to get a hair cut."
I have always been so proud of him, but have never truly known what its like to give something like that up. I am Methodist and never had to give anything up for lent. So when the doctor told me that I had to give up dairy and soy, and then on my own accord, I didn't really imagine how difficult it would be to do.
It is harder than shit. I have noticed in the few days that I have been on this special diet that soy is in everything. If I want to eat anything, I have to check the label first. It means watching my husband put Velveeta on his burger... And then watch him enjoy eating it. It is hell.
And yet, I am doing it because I know I have to do it for my daughter. It's harder than I imagined. I am thankful I only have to do it for the time that I am breastfeeding. I don't have to do it any longer than that. I can't imagine having to do it for the rest of my life!
But here we are. And I will keep going, just like my husband, because I have to. It's empowering, but also one of the hardest things I have ever done. At least I still have my peanut butter captain crunch...
Tuesday, July 8, 2014
The Battle of the Bulge: Week 7 (The No Dairy/Soy/Egg Edition)
I just had an allergen-free Caramel Apple granola bar and it actually wasn't that bad. For $5.59 for 5 bars, it better not be that bad.
I have officially become a label-reader. It's almost worst than becoming a formula-user. Luckily, I have a dear friend who was also a label-reader for several years thanks to a daughter that was premature and allergic to everything. So we just spent and hour and a half in Hy-Vee with our daughters so she could show me the ropes. If I would have had to start this journey on my own, it would have began with tears.
Yesterday we had a weight check for Catherine. She is a hefty 9 pounds, 11 ounces...at the doctors office. At the Gastroenterologist she was only 9 pounds 4 ounces. Either way, it's improvement which is what we wanted to see. So the pediatrician asked, sine Catherine has also been having regular bowel movements, we still needed to see the gastroenterologist. I said I didn't think so but also just wanted to make sure that everything is OK. The pediatrician agreed and off we went to the GI doc.
Last Tuesday, I decide I wanted to see exactly how much food Catherine was eating everyday. So I fed her formula all day and just pumped. I pumped more than she ate, and she only ate about 16 ounces. I pumped more than that, so I was concerned. The I internet says that she should be eating 24-30 ounces at this age. The doctor agreed but she was gaining weight so she didn't worry too much. Later that day at my breastfeeding support group, the lactation consultant said that 24-30 ounces is a lot! 16 ounces, for the size she is, is just fine and case-in-point, she ate 3 ounces while we were there.
So fast forward to our GI appoinent, where the doctor tells me that he isn't getting enough calories based on her birth weight. But she also left the hospital almost a full pound below her birth weight. So to gain 2 pounds in less than 2 months isn't great, but not terrible. In trying to tell him that, it seemed as though he acknowledged it, but didn't want to factor it in. Instead, he wanted to see better weight gain and when approaching that subject, asked me how I felt about breastfeeding.
Ohhhh no. We are not going there. I proceeded to tell him that I have worked too hard and would like to continue breastfeeding. If I need to add something to the breatmilk, I would gladly pump, bit I have invested too many tears to NOT breastfeed anymore.
So he told me to nurse only 10 minutes total and supplement the rest with formula. But because of the freaky out-the-nose reflux, he deduced she is allergic to the formula I have been giving her. So I get to use the neat $50/can-that-fits-in-my-hand formula. Awesome!
Then he tells me that I need to cut dairy and soy from my diet. Because if she's reacting this poorly to the formula, she is most likely allergic to dairy I eat as well.
Awesome!
When I got home, I thought a lot about what the doctor had said, and really about our journey to this point thus far. My pediatrician says she snow getting enough. The GI doc says she IA getting enough to eat, she is just not getting the calories she needs. The lactation consultant says she is getting enough to eat.
Since last Wednesday, her diapers say she has been getting enough to eat...in fact, sometimes twice a day. But something resonated with the food allergy. So like anyone curious about anything, I googled the shit out of it.
And it wasn't until I read an article by a mom with the same problem. The same problem with her second she had with her first. Then it hit me -
James is allergic to eggs.
So I called my good friend Heather, who had to go on a total elimination diet when her daugter was a preemie. So she knows it all. We went to lunch at Wendy's, since thy have a great dairy/soy free menu and then she took me to Hy-Vee. We scoured the aisles of the "health market" and she gave me the best fake dairy, soy and egg products she had discovered in her two years of living this diet. God bless her.
So tonight for dinner, I ate a peanut butter and jelly sandwich on special white bread with Frito's. Yep, all of that is dairy, spy and egg free. So is my Peanut Bitter Captain Crunch, hallelujah.
So long post made longer, it will be interesting to see where the Battle of the Bulge goes from here.
Hopefully down, especially considering I am still at 167! 'Til next week!
I have officially become a label-reader. It's almost worst than becoming a formula-user. Luckily, I have a dear friend who was also a label-reader for several years thanks to a daughter that was premature and allergic to everything. So we just spent and hour and a half in Hy-Vee with our daughters so she could show me the ropes. If I would have had to start this journey on my own, it would have began with tears.
Yesterday we had a weight check for Catherine. She is a hefty 9 pounds, 11 ounces...at the doctors office. At the Gastroenterologist she was only 9 pounds 4 ounces. Either way, it's improvement which is what we wanted to see. So the pediatrician asked, sine Catherine has also been having regular bowel movements, we still needed to see the gastroenterologist. I said I didn't think so but also just wanted to make sure that everything is OK. The pediatrician agreed and off we went to the GI doc.
Last Tuesday, I decide I wanted to see exactly how much food Catherine was eating everyday. So I fed her formula all day and just pumped. I pumped more than she ate, and she only ate about 16 ounces. I pumped more than that, so I was concerned. The I internet says that she should be eating 24-30 ounces at this age. The doctor agreed but she was gaining weight so she didn't worry too much. Later that day at my breastfeeding support group, the lactation consultant said that 24-30 ounces is a lot! 16 ounces, for the size she is, is just fine and case-in-point, she ate 3 ounces while we were there.
So fast forward to our GI appoinent, where the doctor tells me that he isn't getting enough calories based on her birth weight. But she also left the hospital almost a full pound below her birth weight. So to gain 2 pounds in less than 2 months isn't great, but not terrible. In trying to tell him that, it seemed as though he acknowledged it, but didn't want to factor it in. Instead, he wanted to see better weight gain and when approaching that subject, asked me how I felt about breastfeeding.
Ohhhh no. We are not going there. I proceeded to tell him that I have worked too hard and would like to continue breastfeeding. If I need to add something to the breatmilk, I would gladly pump, bit I have invested too many tears to NOT breastfeed anymore.
So he told me to nurse only 10 minutes total and supplement the rest with formula. But because of the freaky out-the-nose reflux, he deduced she is allergic to the formula I have been giving her. So I get to use the neat $50/can-that-fits-in-my-hand formula. Awesome!
Then he tells me that I need to cut dairy and soy from my diet. Because if she's reacting this poorly to the formula, she is most likely allergic to dairy I eat as well.
Awesome!
When I got home, I thought a lot about what the doctor had said, and really about our journey to this point thus far. My pediatrician says she snow getting enough. The GI doc says she IA getting enough to eat, she is just not getting the calories she needs. The lactation consultant says she is getting enough to eat.
Since last Wednesday, her diapers say she has been getting enough to eat...in fact, sometimes twice a day. But something resonated with the food allergy. So like anyone curious about anything, I googled the shit out of it.
And it wasn't until I read an article by a mom with the same problem. The same problem with her second she had with her first. Then it hit me -
James is allergic to eggs.
So I called my good friend Heather, who had to go on a total elimination diet when her daugter was a preemie. So she knows it all. We went to lunch at Wendy's, since thy have a great dairy/soy free menu and then she took me to Hy-Vee. We scoured the aisles of the "health market" and she gave me the best fake dairy, soy and egg products she had discovered in her two years of living this diet. God bless her.
So tonight for dinner, I ate a peanut butter and jelly sandwich on special white bread with Frito's. Yep, all of that is dairy, spy and egg free. So is my Peanut Bitter Captain Crunch, hallelujah.
So long post made longer, it will be interesting to see where the Battle of the Bulge goes from here.
Hopefully down, especially considering I am still at 167! 'Til next week!
Tuesday, July 1, 2014
The Battle of the Bulge: Week 6 (Hormones)
I stepped on the scale yesterday morning. 168.2. I stepped on the last night and I weighed 168 .2. How is it that in one entire day I did not gain any weight? Beyond that, how is it that in one entire week I gained 1 pound?
Hormones, that's how.
to say that I have been a crazy bitch is an understatement. My hormones have been so out of whack that at any given moment I cannot possibly be responsible for anything that's coming out of my mouth. At one moment I'm incredibly happy and another moment I'm about to rip my husbands head off.
I try really hard to keep myself in check but there are times where it sincerely is it possible. I cry at really weird times while thinking about really weird things, and at other times the simplest thing can set me off. I feel like I'm 14 again.
So while I was feeling down in the dumps last night about my one pound gain, somebody posted an articleabout the exact same thing that I've been feeling. A blogger just like me (although I really wouldn't call myself a "blogger") in her 15th month postpartum. And here she was in the exact same boat as me wondering why the hell she was gaining weight. The difference between us is the fact that she's still breastfeeding. I hope to god I'm still not breastfeeding at 15 months postpartum.
but we're both gaining weight and what do we have to blame? Hormones. You gain weight when you get your period, and you lose it again when your hormones balance out. I'm not saying that this is an excuse, what I am saying that it is a reasonable explanation.
So this blogger goes on to explain all about hormonal imbalance, and how it greatly affects weight gain and weight loss. So yes I have gained 4 pounds but at the same time I'm producing milk for my child.
For me, that's worth 4 pounds.
Hormones, that's how.
to say that I have been a crazy bitch is an understatement. My hormones have been so out of whack that at any given moment I cannot possibly be responsible for anything that's coming out of my mouth. At one moment I'm incredibly happy and another moment I'm about to rip my husbands head off.
I try really hard to keep myself in check but there are times where it sincerely is it possible. I cry at really weird times while thinking about really weird things, and at other times the simplest thing can set me off. I feel like I'm 14 again.
So while I was feeling down in the dumps last night about my one pound gain, somebody posted an articleabout the exact same thing that I've been feeling. A blogger just like me (although I really wouldn't call myself a "blogger") in her 15th month postpartum. And here she was in the exact same boat as me wondering why the hell she was gaining weight. The difference between us is the fact that she's still breastfeeding. I hope to god I'm still not breastfeeding at 15 months postpartum.
but we're both gaining weight and what do we have to blame? Hormones. You gain weight when you get your period, and you lose it again when your hormones balance out. I'm not saying that this is an excuse, what I am saying that it is a reasonable explanation.
So this blogger goes on to explain all about hormonal imbalance, and how it greatly affects weight gain and weight loss. So yes I have gained 4 pounds but at the same time I'm producing milk for my child.
For me, that's worth 4 pounds.
Tuesday, June 24, 2014
The Battle of the Bulge: Week 5
OMG I CANNOT WAIT UNTIL MY BATHROOM IS DONE!!!!
But it will be awhile. Eric is working non-stop and it's not looking too good for any remodeling in the near future. Ugh. So if the picture is a little weird its because I cropped the nastiness out of it.
I don't know what my weigh-in this week is, but I am guessing its the same. Thanks to mastitis, I am taking medicine where I cannot eat two hours before or one hour after. Hopefully because all snacking is not allowed thanks to the time frame in which I get to take these stupid pills, I will have lost weight. But I doubt it as I stuff my mouth when I can eat because I am so hungry!!! Its a frustrating process.
Beyond that, my trusty scale broke. I bought a new one today. A digital one, so I will know exactly. Maybe... I have yet to take it out of the package.
Next Tuesday is my 6 week post-partum check up. After that, I hope to start (gulp) exercising. Great, now I have to actually stick to that since I said it out loud. I do know running will not be a part of that. Although maybe if Catherine gets off this stupid cluster-feeding schedule, I will be able to run at night. Ugh. Running. The last time I did that was college and I am pretty sure it wasn't for exercise. ;)
That's all. I don't notice. Any difference this week, so I doubt there is anu . although I learned yesterday from a girlfriend that you burn 25 calories for every ounce of milk produces. So... Every feeding is about 75-100 calories. Wish it were either a little more or that I produce a TON of milk. Wishful thinking on the latter...
Onward!
But it will be awhile. Eric is working non-stop and it's not looking too good for any remodeling in the near future. Ugh. So if the picture is a little weird its because I cropped the nastiness out of it.
I don't know what my weigh-in this week is, but I am guessing its the same. Thanks to mastitis, I am taking medicine where I cannot eat two hours before or one hour after. Hopefully because all snacking is not allowed thanks to the time frame in which I get to take these stupid pills, I will have lost weight. But I doubt it as I stuff my mouth when I can eat because I am so hungry!!! Its a frustrating process.
Beyond that, my trusty scale broke. I bought a new one today. A digital one, so I will know exactly. Maybe... I have yet to take it out of the package.
Next Tuesday is my 6 week post-partum check up. After that, I hope to start (gulp) exercising. Great, now I have to actually stick to that since I said it out loud. I do know running will not be a part of that. Although maybe if Catherine gets off this stupid cluster-feeding schedule, I will be able to run at night. Ugh. Running. The last time I did that was college and I am pretty sure it wasn't for exercise. ;)
That's all. I don't notice. Any difference this week, so I doubt there is anu . although I learned yesterday from a girlfriend that you burn 25 calories for every ounce of milk produces. So... Every feeding is about 75-100 calories. Wish it were either a little more or that I produce a TON of milk. Wishful thinking on the latter...
Onward!
Tuesday, June 17, 2014
The Battle of the Bulge: Week 4
First off, how is it that my baby girl is almost a month old??
Secondly, everyone keeps telling me it doesn't look like I have had a child, but to me, it doesn't feel that way.
I stepped on the scale this morning, the start of week 5 postpartum, and I was 166.4. Whaaaa?
How is it that I have gained 2 pounds??
I have been very diligent in what I have been eating (minus the delicious horrible of or quo pizza I devoured at Adventureland yesterday). Its been hotter than hell, which leads to water retention when you don't drink enough water, which I haven't. And according to some postpartum websites, I have approximately 3 ounces of milk per boob per feeding. That's impressive. Then, thinking that I didn't feed at all last night, my boobs are heavy in the morning. Not to mention, to the excitement of my hubby, I'm rocking solid C's. So I can't dwell on 2 pounds. I can only be thankful for the fact that I really don't look like I had a baby a month ago. When I was this far with James postpartum, I was mighty hefty. All in all, I have a lot to be thankful for. Just wish it felt that way!
So, here is to week 5!
Secondly, everyone keeps telling me it doesn't look like I have had a child, but to me, it doesn't feel that way.
I stepped on the scale this morning, the start of week 5 postpartum, and I was 166.4. Whaaaa?
How is it that I have gained 2 pounds??
I have been very diligent in what I have been eating (minus the delicious horrible of or quo pizza I devoured at Adventureland yesterday). Its been hotter than hell, which leads to water retention when you don't drink enough water, which I haven't. And according to some postpartum websites, I have approximately 3 ounces of milk per boob per feeding. That's impressive. Then, thinking that I didn't feed at all last night, my boobs are heavy in the morning. Not to mention, to the excitement of my hubby, I'm rocking solid C's. So I can't dwell on 2 pounds. I can only be thankful for the fact that I really don't look like I had a baby a month ago. When I was this far with James postpartum, I was mighty hefty. All in all, I have a lot to be thankful for. Just wish it felt that way!
So, here is to week 5!
Tuesday, June 10, 2014
The Battle of the Bulge: Week 3 (Postpartum Progress)
Wow, you can really see a difference this week. I have finally been eating healthier, but I can't help but snack on my lactation cookies that are so delicious or grab an extra granola bar. I feel like I am ravenous at any given moment. If I really gave up my "healthy portions" and ate, I wonder what I would be able to put away...
I took James and Catherine to the doctor and to see what James weighed I got on the scale without him and then on the scale with him. Without him I was at 165. Today, i am 164.6. Wahoo! So we are getting there. I want to be 10 pounds lighter by the time school starts in August - that's my goal. We shall see!!
Onward with week 4!
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