*I am not doing well at all at the Biggest Blogging Loser competition. If there were a prize for least amount of willpower, I would win, hands down.
*I just read, and kind of loved, three in a series of four books. I'm going to tell you that it's a Nora Roberts series (The Bride Quartet) without (much) shame, because if you are looking for something completely light and fluffy and totally idealistic and unrealistic, these are the books for you. I only was able to get the first three through PaperBackSwap, but I checked and the system estimates that my "wish" for book four will be granted within the week. Here's hoping, because I really don't want to pay for it, but I do need to finish the series.
*I have spent entirely too much time YouTube-ing Angry Birds videos for the levels that I'm stuck on.
*I am a complete Words with Friends failure. It's embarassing. If you need an ego boost I'm themamabub. Just promise you won't judge me for my low scoring words.
*I hate when my kids are sick, but secretly enjoy the fact that they're cuddly and lovey and need their mommy for a few days.
Monday, January 31, 2011
Sunday, January 30, 2011
Tiny Ugly Germs
I wish this wasn't another post about being sick, but that's all I've got. Because now the baby is sick. It's sad and pathetic and really if I could just burn down the germ factory that is preschool, I would. Bub has been sick a lot this year. If I were to keep him home every single day that he's had a lingering runny nose or cough, well he would have been home far more days than he would have gone to school. That said, if he's obviously sick or running a fever or in the midst of a cold, rather than the dregs of it that seem to drag on for weeks afterward, I keep him home.
Evidently, I'm the only parent with this plan. When I called last Wednesday to let them know that he wouldn't be there, his teacher said, "Huh, he's the first one." Incidentally, she said the very same thing the first time I kept him out of school for being sick. OBVIOUSLY, he's not the first one because someone had to give it to him, and I get that kids can be contagious before they're showing signs of being sick, but that place is like a snot FACTORY.
Basically what I'm saying here is that I blame preschool for everything.
We've been on a TV detox for the past couple of days since he's feeling better and it's not going well. I'm pulling out the big guns, offering to sit and roll out Play Doh for all the live long day, but no he wants TV, or the computer, or the Wii. Any screen will do really, as long as it numbs the mind and requires little, if any, interaction. Add to that the fact that my husband was out of town through the weekend, and it rained today, so Bub has pretty much seen me, me and only me since last Wednesday, and we're all a little on edge.
At one point I considered just handing over the remote for the duration of the weekend and figured we would get back on track with outside play and using our brains come the work week. I considered it up until the moment I needed to pause Toy Story and Bub shrieked, "NO! Mama! Wait until Woody says, 'Meeting adjourned,' then you can pause it." It was at that point that I realized things had already gone too far.
Evidently, I'm the only parent with this plan. When I called last Wednesday to let them know that he wouldn't be there, his teacher said, "Huh, he's the first one." Incidentally, she said the very same thing the first time I kept him out of school for being sick. OBVIOUSLY, he's not the first one because someone had to give it to him, and I get that kids can be contagious before they're showing signs of being sick, but that place is like a snot FACTORY.
Basically what I'm saying here is that I blame preschool for everything.
We've been on a TV detox for the past couple of days since he's feeling better and it's not going well. I'm pulling out the big guns, offering to sit and roll out Play Doh for all the live long day, but no he wants TV, or the computer, or the Wii. Any screen will do really, as long as it numbs the mind and requires little, if any, interaction. Add to that the fact that my husband was out of town through the weekend, and it rained today, so Bub has pretty much seen me, me and only me since last Wednesday, and we're all a little on edge.
At one point I considered just handing over the remote for the duration of the weekend and figured we would get back on track with outside play and using our brains come the work week. I considered it up until the moment I needed to pause Toy Story and Bub shrieked, "NO! Mama! Wait until Woody says, 'Meeting adjourned,' then you can pause it." It was at that point that I realized things had already gone too far.
Thursday, January 27, 2011
Rejected Titles: Shot Through the Leg, No TLC at Urgent Care, BLARG
Sometimes I wonder how people come to choose their professions. For example, how does someone who is so easily frustrated by the behavior of children become a nurse in a pediatric urgent care?
Bub has recently decided that all medicine is bad, baaaaad. We can't even get him to taste it without shuddering and if we manage to get him to swallow it, he vomits. A lot. After many, many failed attempts at hiding antibiotics in various foods, we found ourselves at an urgent care, for an antibiotic shot.
The nurse had to take Bub's vitals. Bub is not a kid who likes to be messed with, and isn't a fan of the blood pressure cuff or heartrate monitor clipped to his finger. He tossed off the monitor and tried to unwrap the cuff. She sighed, LOUDLY, and was like, "Buddy, this doesn't hurt, but the shot we're going to have to give you if you won't swallow your medicine will. This is the easy part."
And I sat there mostly in shock, and didn't say anything. Because I'm a terrible, terrible mother.
She asked him to open his mouth to take his temp and he refused. I asked if she could just take it under his arm. "If you say so, Mom," she grumped.
Okay, he's THREE. And he's sick and miserable so he's not particularly amenable to being poked and prodded. Had she ever met a three year old before? Because in my experience, Bub isn't the first one to have an opinion on things.
After talking to the doctor, we gave Bub a choice. We explained to him that he could swallow his medicine, or get a shot. He chose the shot. (Incidentally, he also chose the suppository over swallowing a little Tylenol. Unfortunately for us all.)
The same nurse came back with two needles - one for each leg. She warned me that this was kind of painful shot and had me hold his hands. The needle punctured his leg and he FREAKED. Rightfully so, really. The shot had to be given somewhat slowly. Again, he's sick and miserable and now we're sticking needles in his leg. The nurse shouts, SHOUTS at him to calm down because when he's tense it's impossible for her to get the medicine in. Repeat for the second leg and she wipes her brow and sighs deeply. She then looks at him and says, "Sorry, dude. Maybe next time you'll take your meds, huh?"
Let me remind you, this is a pediatric urgent care. She sees sick kids ALL DAY LONG. Her bedside manner? Sucks. Big time.
The solution to this problem is to never go back to that particular urgent care. Fortunately, we have other options. Unfortunately, I'm not quite sure how I'm going to convince this kid to start taking medicine when necessary.
**You know, I get that we all have bad days. I chose to be a parent, yet there are days when I'm frustrated over what is typical three year old behavior, too. I admit to being very frustrated that he wouldn't just take the medicine already. Children's Tylenol tastes GOOD. I was annoyed when I was cleaning up vomit for the third time yesterday. I should be willing to cut her a break. I'm not, because it was my sick kid she was annoyed with. Also, this was her job, where's she's paid to be a professional. I don't know why that distinction matters, but it does. To me. The End.
Bub has recently decided that all medicine is bad, baaaaad. We can't even get him to taste it without shuddering and if we manage to get him to swallow it, he vomits. A lot. After many, many failed attempts at hiding antibiotics in various foods, we found ourselves at an urgent care, for an antibiotic shot.
The nurse had to take Bub's vitals. Bub is not a kid who likes to be messed with, and isn't a fan of the blood pressure cuff or heartrate monitor clipped to his finger. He tossed off the monitor and tried to unwrap the cuff. She sighed, LOUDLY, and was like, "Buddy, this doesn't hurt, but the shot we're going to have to give you if you won't swallow your medicine will. This is the easy part."
And I sat there mostly in shock, and didn't say anything. Because I'm a terrible, terrible mother.
She asked him to open his mouth to take his temp and he refused. I asked if she could just take it under his arm. "If you say so, Mom," she grumped.
Okay, he's THREE. And he's sick and miserable so he's not particularly amenable to being poked and prodded. Had she ever met a three year old before? Because in my experience, Bub isn't the first one to have an opinion on things.
After talking to the doctor, we gave Bub a choice. We explained to him that he could swallow his medicine, or get a shot. He chose the shot. (Incidentally, he also chose the suppository over swallowing a little Tylenol. Unfortunately for us all.)
The same nurse came back with two needles - one for each leg. She warned me that this was kind of painful shot and had me hold his hands. The needle punctured his leg and he FREAKED. Rightfully so, really. The shot had to be given somewhat slowly. Again, he's sick and miserable and now we're sticking needles in his leg. The nurse shouts, SHOUTS at him to calm down because when he's tense it's impossible for her to get the medicine in. Repeat for the second leg and she wipes her brow and sighs deeply. She then looks at him and says, "Sorry, dude. Maybe next time you'll take your meds, huh?"
Let me remind you, this is a pediatric urgent care. She sees sick kids ALL DAY LONG. Her bedside manner? Sucks. Big time.
The solution to this problem is to never go back to that particular urgent care. Fortunately, we have other options. Unfortunately, I'm not quite sure how I'm going to convince this kid to start taking medicine when necessary.
**You know, I get that we all have bad days. I chose to be a parent, yet there are days when I'm frustrated over what is typical three year old behavior, too. I admit to being very frustrated that he wouldn't just take the medicine already. Children's Tylenol tastes GOOD. I was annoyed when I was cleaning up vomit for the third time yesterday. I should be willing to cut her a break. I'm not, because it was my sick kid she was annoyed with. Also, this was her job, where's she's paid to be a professional. I don't know why that distinction matters, but it does. To me. The End.
You can thank me later
Parents, get to your nearest drug store. Visit the pain relief aisle and buy every form of acetaminophen and ibuprofen you can find. Liquid, chewable, suppository, meltaway. Hopefully this will save you from a 1:00am drive searching for an open pharmacy when your child refuses to take anything by mouth and is running a raging fever.
Seriously.
Seriously.
Published with Blogger-droid v1.6.5
Monday, January 24, 2011
Perspective
Recently, on a Saturday, my husband took Bub for the day. I had to be at home while people were working at the house and Bubette stayed with me. I had things to get done, multiple loads of laundry, cleaning, bill paying. Having all of these things to get done and just one child to manage during the day seemed like such a luxury.
When I was the parent of one child, I would dream of moments alone, of a few hours in which to just finally finish whatever project I had stopped midway through to tend to the baby. I could accomplish in 30 minutes what would have taken my pre-child self twice as long. I knew the value of nap time, a walk with daddy or a day with the grandparents.
In the past seven and a half months I can't recall a moment that I was alone in my house. I'm not really complaining because I've had plenty of time with just the baby. By comparison she's so much easier than Bub. Sure, she has needs. She has a lot of needs. But her needs are easy. Feed her. Change her. Put her down for a nap. Sit on the floor and make silly faces. Read books. She's also mostly non-mobile. She can't get to electrical outlets or climb the stairs. I know someday soon I'll be eating my words.
When Bub was a baby things just seemed so hard. I had left behind my carefree life in a matter of two hours of pushing. Did you know that you have to watch them, like, all the time? When, exactly, can I leave the room for a minute without bringing him with me? When he's 15, my mom quipped. But, even then, it's not a good idea.
Going from no babies to one baby was dramatic for me. Going from one baby to two babies was less so. It's more work, to be sure, but I'm not necessarily sure that's it's harder. Is there a difference? At the very least it was less of a shock to the system. My system anyway. Your mileage may vary. I can totally understand how people make the decision to have three, four, more children. What's one more when you're already in the thick of it?
When I was the parent of one child, I would dream of moments alone, of a few hours in which to just finally finish whatever project I had stopped midway through to tend to the baby. I could accomplish in 30 minutes what would have taken my pre-child self twice as long. I knew the value of nap time, a walk with daddy or a day with the grandparents.
In the past seven and a half months I can't recall a moment that I was alone in my house. I'm not really complaining because I've had plenty of time with just the baby. By comparison she's so much easier than Bub. Sure, she has needs. She has a lot of needs. But her needs are easy. Feed her. Change her. Put her down for a nap. Sit on the floor and make silly faces. Read books. She's also mostly non-mobile. She can't get to electrical outlets or climb the stairs. I know someday soon I'll be eating my words.
When Bub was a baby things just seemed so hard. I had left behind my carefree life in a matter of two hours of pushing. Did you know that you have to watch them, like, all the time? When, exactly, can I leave the room for a minute without bringing him with me? When he's 15, my mom quipped. But, even then, it's not a good idea.
Going from no babies to one baby was dramatic for me. Going from one baby to two babies was less so. It's more work, to be sure, but I'm not necessarily sure that's it's harder. Is there a difference? At the very least it was less of a shock to the system. My system anyway. Your mileage may vary. I can totally understand how people make the decision to have three, four, more children. What's one more when you're already in the thick of it?
Sunday, January 23, 2011
Sleep Update
It only seems fair to write about where we stand on the sleep situation, given that I've spent so much time whining about it when things weren't going well.
Currently, things are going well. Fine. Does she sleep through the night? That all depends on how you define that. She goes to bed at 6:30 or 7:00 depending on how well she's napped, but usually closer to 6:30. On a typical night she wakes up once, sometime between 2-4. Sometimes she'll wake up at midnight, sometimes she'll sleep as late as 5:00am. I'll feed her and she'll go back to sleep, waking for the day between 6:30-7:30. Honestly, I can't complain. As a very good friend of mine said of her daughter, she asks so little of me during the day, it's hard to be upset about her waking once, sometimes twice a night. She truly is a dream baby during the day, (and at night too, really.) And, she's a baby. She will sleep through the night without wanting or needing to be fed at some point.
She's napping pretty well. She takes two naps consistently and goes to sleep fairly easily. Some days I'll rock her to sleep, some days we'll rock for a bit and then she'll fall asleep on her own. She seems to prefer being put down awake and babbling herself to sleep these days.
Of course, nothing is set in stone. Sometimes she can't settle down for a nap. The other day she woke at 5:45 for the day. But, all in all, I'm totally fine with where things are. As for what I did to get us to this point? I just waited. From the age of four to six months she was totally unpredictable, so I just did everything I could to make myself predictable. I offered naps at roughly the same time every day, I stuck to a bedtime routine, I watched her for signs of being over tired and tried to be aware of what was working. For the most part though, I think she just needed to figure it out on her own.
As for Bub, we seem to be in a period of flux with his afternoon nap. He's not napping every afternoon, but four or five days a week he takes a nap and still goes to bed easily. I just have to be sure he's active enough in the afternoon so he burns off all of his energy, otherwise bedtime is a battle. I know that the days of the afternoon nap will come to an end at some point, but you better believe I'm holding on to that little thread of sanity with everything I've got.
And with that, I'm prepared for good sleep to come crashing down around me as I'm sure I've angered the sleep gods by talking about it.
Currently, things are going well. Fine. Does she sleep through the night? That all depends on how you define that. She goes to bed at 6:30 or 7:00 depending on how well she's napped, but usually closer to 6:30. On a typical night she wakes up once, sometime between 2-4. Sometimes she'll wake up at midnight, sometimes she'll sleep as late as 5:00am. I'll feed her and she'll go back to sleep, waking for the day between 6:30-7:30. Honestly, I can't complain. As a very good friend of mine said of her daughter, she asks so little of me during the day, it's hard to be upset about her waking once, sometimes twice a night. She truly is a dream baby during the day, (and at night too, really.) And, she's a baby. She will sleep through the night without wanting or needing to be fed at some point.
She's napping pretty well. She takes two naps consistently and goes to sleep fairly easily. Some days I'll rock her to sleep, some days we'll rock for a bit and then she'll fall asleep on her own. She seems to prefer being put down awake and babbling herself to sleep these days.
Of course, nothing is set in stone. Sometimes she can't settle down for a nap. The other day she woke at 5:45 for the day. But, all in all, I'm totally fine with where things are. As for what I did to get us to this point? I just waited. From the age of four to six months she was totally unpredictable, so I just did everything I could to make myself predictable. I offered naps at roughly the same time every day, I stuck to a bedtime routine, I watched her for signs of being over tired and tried to be aware of what was working. For the most part though, I think she just needed to figure it out on her own.
As for Bub, we seem to be in a period of flux with his afternoon nap. He's not napping every afternoon, but four or five days a week he takes a nap and still goes to bed easily. I just have to be sure he's active enough in the afternoon so he burns off all of his energy, otherwise bedtime is a battle. I know that the days of the afternoon nap will come to an end at some point, but you better believe I'm holding on to that little thread of sanity with everything I've got.
And with that, I'm prepared for good sleep to come crashing down around me as I'm sure I've angered the sleep gods by talking about it.
Monday, January 17, 2011
The $500 Sponge
Alternate Title: The week my house conspired against me.
(Pssst. If you're reading this in a reader, click on through. I've got a pretty new design over here.)
Last week we had an electrician replacing outlets and figuring out why all of my bathroom electricity had gone kaput, a plumber finally fixing (kind of) our downstairs toilet, contractors ripping apart my garage trying to discover the source of a leak (not found!) and my modem and router died leaving me mostly without internet. Mostly, because I was still able to use my phone, but I was so sick of that teeny tiny touch screen by the weekend that I wanted to throw the thing through the window.
We've had trouble with our downstairs bathroom for a while, and the last time a plumber was here he told us that the next step was sending a camera down to figure out what the problem was. It would cost $500, not including the cost to fix whatever the problem turned out to be. We put this off until I had enough and called the plumber. After completely dismantling my bathroom, he called me in to ask if I was missing something green. He showed me a lime green something on his fuzzy screen and told me that was the source of my problem. After fishing out a fish shaped sponge he pronounced our problem fixed. He did say that our toilets are crappy (ha!) and that we should consider replacing them. We're considering it, but given the number of times I've handed my credit card over in the past week, we're not strongly considering it.
I also totally fell off the Biggest Blogging Loser wagon. I had fast food twice, soda twice, and lots and lots of candy. I'm a stress eater and I get stressed when people are working in my house and I don't know what to do with myself. I also found absolutely zero time to work out. Here's hoping this is a better week.
And if anything else breaks in this house, I'm moving.
(Pssst. If you're reading this in a reader, click on through. I've got a pretty new design over here.)
Last week we had an electrician replacing outlets and figuring out why all of my bathroom electricity had gone kaput, a plumber finally fixing (kind of) our downstairs toilet, contractors ripping apart my garage trying to discover the source of a leak (not found!) and my modem and router died leaving me mostly without internet. Mostly, because I was still able to use my phone, but I was so sick of that teeny tiny touch screen by the weekend that I wanted to throw the thing through the window.
We've had trouble with our downstairs bathroom for a while, and the last time a plumber was here he told us that the next step was sending a camera down to figure out what the problem was. It would cost $500, not including the cost to fix whatever the problem turned out to be. We put this off until I had enough and called the plumber. After completely dismantling my bathroom, he called me in to ask if I was missing something green. He showed me a lime green something on his fuzzy screen and told me that was the source of my problem. After fishing out a fish shaped sponge he pronounced our problem fixed. He did say that our toilets are crappy (ha!) and that we should consider replacing them. We're considering it, but given the number of times I've handed my credit card over in the past week, we're not strongly considering it.
I also totally fell off the Biggest Blogging Loser wagon. I had fast food twice, soda twice, and lots and lots of candy. I'm a stress eater and I get stressed when people are working in my house and I don't know what to do with myself. I also found absolutely zero time to work out. Here's hoping this is a better week.
And if anything else breaks in this house, I'm moving.
Friday, January 14, 2011
Show a little love
It's Delurking Day. That means it's time for you to let your voice be heard. If you're reading, let me know. Leave me a comment and tell me who you are. I would love to hear from you. And, if you're feeling generous, cross your fingers that I get my internet back this weekend and I can stop posting from my phone.
Comment away my loves.
Thursday, January 13, 2011
Wednesday, January 12, 2011
I've moved!
You can now find me at mamabubblog.com
Update your bookmarks, subscriptions, etc. With any sort of luck, your feed subscriptions should update on their own.
New look coming soon.
Update your bookmarks, subscriptions, etc. With any sort of luck, your feed subscriptions should update on their own.
New look coming soon.
Tuesday, January 4, 2011
7 months
We're now well into the second half of your first year, baby girl. I'm already considering ideas for your first birthday party, which no one can really believe, including myself.
This was a big month for you. Your first Christmas wasn't much more than a few days with many willing arms to hold and cuddle you. To me though, it was a very big deal. I think we can officially announce that you and your brother are the two most spoiled children on the West Coast. The plaque should be arriving in the mail any day now.
You rang in the new year by waking up all night long. You must have thought you were missing something. (You weren't. New Year's Eve is highly overrated. We went to bed at 10:30. Also, your dad and I are OLD.)
You started babbling and haven't stopped. Just when I think you couldn't possibly get cuter, you go and string a few syllables together and WHAM, the cuteness factor increases.
At seven months and a few days you like:
- Being held (anyone will do, but you did lean to me out of Auntie C's arms last night!)
- Nursing and eating. So far, you haven't rejected a single baby food. You eat green beans with the same gusto as pears.
- Laughing with and at your brother.
- Bath time
- Charlie, the dog, who is slowly learning to keep his distance from your grabby hands
- Getting dry and dressed after bathtime
- Mommy leaving the room
- Rolling over on your stomach while sleeping. (Pssst, you know how to roll back over to your back - I've seen you do it!)
Monday, January 3, 2011
Food is my Love Language
So.
I joined Jennie's Biggest Blogging Loser challenge. I bought a scale. I haven't lived in a house with a scale since I lived at home 14 years ago, but thanks to the wonders of Amazon Prime, a scale now taunts me from my bathroom. I got new tennis shoes for Christmas. I paid my $20 and took a picture of my starting weight this morning (complete with toes in dire need of a pedicure.) I'm in it.
Yet, I don't want to be. When I say I don't want to be, I mean it in the hands in fists, eyes scrunched closed, feet stamping I don't wanna sort of way.
I clicked back to that post multiple times before saying yes.
I have a messy relationship with my weight. Mostly I'll get frustrated that I don't like the way I look, then when it comes time to do something about it, I'll think Meh, things could be worse. I'm probably the only person I know who didn't diet before her own wedding and honeymoon, because I thought things were okay. Not awesome. Not like I was in the greatest shape of my life, but fine. Nothing really worth messing with. Looking back on those pictures, things were fine. I would gladly rewind five and a half years and take that body, thank you very much. In fact, I would rewind to any point in the past, other than the few months immediately after giving birth, and take that body. Any of them. Because they were all better than where I am now.
Of course, I never appreciated that.
The thing is, I would like to be thinner. I don't really care what size I wear, but I would like my clothes to fit better. I would like to lose the lumpiness. As much as I would like to have all of that, I like food and laziness more. I've never been bitten by the exercise bug. Oh I've had plenty of experience with exercise. Soccer and track in high school, step class in college, joining gyms and stroller work out classes in the many years since then. But even when I was working out daily in high school while playing sports, it was a chore. I was thrilled when practice was rained out.
I think I was born to be a sloth.
Things aren't exactly dire, but they're not going to get better on their own either.
Today, though, I woke up determined to start off right. Throw both kids in the double stroller and go for a walk. Even if the nursing hunger makes me ravenous around the clock (someone had to feed this adorably round baby of mine) I can still get out of the house and move. Except that it was raining. When the rain stopped for a few minutes, I threw hats and jackets on both kids only to discover my double stroller was in my husband's car. No matter! Baby in the Ergo, let's go! A walk at a three year old's pace is still a walk, right?
So, it was something. And I'm not officially dieting, because for me that's a recipe for disaster. I am making better choices. No cheese or mayo on my sandwich. Didn't miss it! Drinking lots of water rather than soda. Realizing when I'm eating, rather than mindlessly grazing through the day.
It's only day one. Shouldn't I be pumped up and excited for the new me in 2011? Where, oh where is my motivation?
I joined Jennie's Biggest Blogging Loser challenge. I bought a scale. I haven't lived in a house with a scale since I lived at home 14 years ago, but thanks to the wonders of Amazon Prime, a scale now taunts me from my bathroom. I got new tennis shoes for Christmas. I paid my $20 and took a picture of my starting weight this morning (complete with toes in dire need of a pedicure.) I'm in it.
Yet, I don't want to be. When I say I don't want to be, I mean it in the hands in fists, eyes scrunched closed, feet stamping I don't wanna sort of way.
I clicked back to that post multiple times before saying yes.
I have a messy relationship with my weight. Mostly I'll get frustrated that I don't like the way I look, then when it comes time to do something about it, I'll think Meh, things could be worse. I'm probably the only person I know who didn't diet before her own wedding and honeymoon, because I thought things were okay. Not awesome. Not like I was in the greatest shape of my life, but fine. Nothing really worth messing with. Looking back on those pictures, things were fine. I would gladly rewind five and a half years and take that body, thank you very much. In fact, I would rewind to any point in the past, other than the few months immediately after giving birth, and take that body. Any of them. Because they were all better than where I am now.
Of course, I never appreciated that.
The thing is, I would like to be thinner. I don't really care what size I wear, but I would like my clothes to fit better. I would like to lose the lumpiness. As much as I would like to have all of that, I like food and laziness more. I've never been bitten by the exercise bug. Oh I've had plenty of experience with exercise. Soccer and track in high school, step class in college, joining gyms and stroller work out classes in the many years since then. But even when I was working out daily in high school while playing sports, it was a chore. I was thrilled when practice was rained out.
I think I was born to be a sloth.
Things aren't exactly dire, but they're not going to get better on their own either.
Today, though, I woke up determined to start off right. Throw both kids in the double stroller and go for a walk. Even if the nursing hunger makes me ravenous around the clock (someone had to feed this adorably round baby of mine) I can still get out of the house and move. Except that it was raining. When the rain stopped for a few minutes, I threw hats and jackets on both kids only to discover my double stroller was in my husband's car. No matter! Baby in the Ergo, let's go! A walk at a three year old's pace is still a walk, right?
So, it was something. And I'm not officially dieting, because for me that's a recipe for disaster. I am making better choices. No cheese or mayo on my sandwich. Didn't miss it! Drinking lots of water rather than soda. Realizing when I'm eating, rather than mindlessly grazing through the day.
It's only day one. Shouldn't I be pumped up and excited for the new me in 2011? Where, oh where is my motivation?
Saturday, January 1, 2011
Resolve 2011
I don't really do resolutions, except I did last year and I'm mostly pleased with the results. Granted, my resolution involved FOOD, so I'm pretty sure I could be successful with any resolution involving making food that I'll then have to eat.
This year, I'm doing it again. Let's call it goal setting, though.
1. Lose weight. Maybe. Expect a post about this soon.
2. Take more pictures. Learn to take better pictures. Maybe take an online class through Big Picture Classes.
3. Read. I read a lot, but between my iPad and my Droid and Twitter, Facebook and my Google Reader I waste a lot of time. Read. More often than just when I'm nursing.
4. Be more organized/Keep a cleaner house. My husband often looks around our house and says that he feels sorry for my college roommate (still one of my besties.) I think it's time that we all just accept that this is who I am, people. But, I'll put it on the list anyway.
5. Be more present. For my kids and my husband. Is there anything more rude than sitting down to watch a movie with my husband, with half an eye on my Angry Birds game? I'm pretty sure the answer to that is no. Change this.
Are you making resolutions this year?
This year, I'm doing it again. Let's call it goal setting, though.
1. Lose weight. Maybe. Expect a post about this soon.
2. Take more pictures. Learn to take better pictures. Maybe take an online class through Big Picture Classes.
3. Read. I read a lot, but between my iPad and my Droid and Twitter, Facebook and my Google Reader I waste a lot of time. Read. More often than just when I'm nursing.
4. Be more organized/Keep a cleaner house. My husband often looks around our house and says that he feels sorry for my college roommate (still one of my besties.) I think it's time that we all just accept that this is who I am, people. But, I'll put it on the list anyway.
5. Be more present. For my kids and my husband. Is there anything more rude than sitting down to watch a movie with my husband, with half an eye on my Angry Birds game? I'm pretty sure the answer to that is no. Change this.
Are you making resolutions this year?
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
