What's in a name?

So, now I posted about my weight (still trying to figure out what compelled me to do that), that got me to thinking about what I'd name my extra-large appendages. Take for instance, my bottom. It leaves indentations in my chair at work. It jiggles now. It has dimples, dammit. I think I'll name her Shirley Temple.

My arms. They're too large for those cute little women's tees that are fit to flatter. They just make my arms look larger. Retailers suck. I used to have firm muscled up arms that I liked to flex and show off (to myself in the mirror). Now I watch them wiggle in the mornings while I do my hair. They make me hate sleeveless tops (my favorites). I think I'll name them Gigli and Jugli - pronounced Gee-lee and Juu-lee but looks like giggly and juggly - appropriate.

My boobs. No, I'm not going to name them. But the cleavage they create is no longer appealing and has become downright disturbing. It's like a deep crevace that I could loose something in...like a car. That same little tee mentioned above that doesn't help my arms, doesn't exactly grace my bustier either. I saw a photo from Christmas...I cringed. It reminded of me of someone who couldn't afford a bra...but I had one on. An expensive one. Victoria's Secret, my ass. So, I think I'll name my decolletage The Queen because she's right up there in front for everyone to see...and she ain't that pretty to look at.

My legs and thighs. You know I was going here...every woman does. The thighs have dimples, too. I think they're in collaboration with Shirley. They rub together now. When I fit in size zero jeans, I thought my legs were "fat". Stupid stupid stupid. Now I know my legs are fat. And my thighs set above my calves. Those calves that used to be so toned now look...uh...like bread dough hanging off the hook, to be honest. So, playing off the food theme, I will name my legs/thighs, Mrs. Baird and Sara Lee.

And last, but not least, my new chin. Yes, the one beneath the one actually attached to my jaw. My new chin is very pliable and likes to hang around. She really loves to show up in pictures. If I stretch my neck way out, I can make her disappear, but then she comes back with a vengeance. She reminds me of my mother and grandmother. I think it's inherited. I had hoped to keep her at bay until I was at least 89 years old. So, on the family theme, I'll name her after my great grandmother...Maude....the one that I think started this whole chin thing.

There you have it. These ladies are the ones that would like to kick out of my life...Shirley, Gigli, Jugli, The Queen, Mrs. Baird, Sara Lee, and Maude.

I just admitted...

I just admitted to a friend that I am 40 pounds heavier than I was four years ago. Four years ago, I wasn't married. I lived on the other side of the state. My house was out in the country with a little herd of goats that I had to lift haybales and 50 pound sacks of feed for every day. Oh Geez, I just realized that I'm carrying around the equivalent of one of those feed sacks...all-the-time.

Okay, so maybe I was a little underweight. Yeah, that's the ticket! I could see my clavicles a little too well and I could count the ribs connecting to my sternum. It was a little unappealing. I needed some meat...some fat. Then I got married and Hubby took care of that. The scale inched up and I grew a set of hips and filled out my bra. I could still feel my ribs, but at least I couldn't count them anymore in the mirror. Then I got pregnant. *DUM DE DUM DUM* And decided that I could eat freely because I had to feed that baby! Yeah, that baby that was microscopic and didn't required even 50 calories a day. But I just had to feed him that Whataburger. And that was the only thing I could eat that didn't give me heartburn. So, here I sit...on my large appendage who I believe should have a name of her own...and wonder at what I would tell myself four years ago if I knew that I would be weighing what I do today. What was that I told my mom about six years ago?? Oh yeah, "I'm never going to get fat! I'll just quit eating and starve myself if I have to." Silly (little) ass girl - I'd slap her now if I could.

So, folks, I don't like New Year's resolutions. I think they set you up to fail. But I do have a plan, I will (I think I can, I think I can) lose this freaking baby weight and get down to my pre-preggers weight. That's 25 pounds to go, folks. My goal weight is 120 pounds.

hmmm...I guess this means no margaritas for New Year's Eve, huh? OOOOHHH, the deprivation of it all!!! Pardon me while I while mourn...

Christmas - Part 2

I'm doing my Christmas post in a few installments - Click HERE for Part 1.

So now that I've waxed regretful...sorrowful...whiny...about Christmas this year, now it's time to tell about how it actually turned out. For K-man, he had no idea what this whole gig was about with the tree and the sparkly lights and the boxes in paper, but he had a jolly time trying to eat the paper. I got him a jack in the box that he had a lot of fun with, especially as he tried to cram jack back in the box but nearly decapitated the poor fellow. He received a stuffed baseball and bat (made baby size) that he took enjoyment in beating the tv with. My mom got him a singing goat that took him a little while to warm up to before he finally started toting it around by the ear. He also received a lot of books. Several of which were pop-ups and he quickly relieved one of the pop-up reindeer of one of its antlers. Riiiiip...chomp! The boy loves to eat him some paper. I promise he gets a lot of fiber in his diet and doesn't need to supplement. The adults did pretty well on their gifts too and we all had fun opening our presents. It was my mom, my husband, and me and we all rode "herd" on the little one while we took turns tearing into wrapping paper.

I helped my mom in the kitchen and we spent entirely too much time and effort on a meal that really turned out, well...blah is putting it nicely. And then there was all that time spent cleaning up afterwards and pulling out every single piece of tupperware I could find to store the leftovers in. Mom did good on the desserts, though, and I ate entirely too much sugar.

All in all, everything turned out nicely and little boy had a good Christmas.

Christmas Post - Part 1

I have all sorts of thoughts running through my head this day after Christmas, so I'm going to sort them into piles and do a couple of posts to cover all the bases. Besides, maybe if I break up my rambling someone might be more prone to actually read it.

Christmas...I missed being in my hometown at our little white clapboard church with the historical marker out front. I missed being there for Christmas Eve service and communion with everyone singing out of tune with our little organ...and then lighting those little white candles that we've used for the past ten years (the same candles). Something inside of me hurts when I think of not being there this year and last.

This entire month of December has flown by and nothing has felt like Christmas. I feel cheated and I feel like I cheated myself and my family. The true meaning of Christmas is in the little child who was born in a manger and we totally missed that this year. I mean, yeah, in our hearts and minds we know the reason, but we didn't honor it. I didn't even set up my nativity because our kitchen table was such an utter disaster of mail and groceries and general crap. (and what's that sticky spot???) I got our little Christmas tree set up last Sunday and didn't completely enjoy that because it wasn't "us" setting it up. It was almost a chore rather than a pleasure. That's my fault and yet I feel like it's not completely not my fault. As if somehow through all of the work, daycare, illnesses, and general lack of time-off that we've been robbed of something this season.

I could blame it on society...I could blame it on work...I could even try to blame it on that general first year chaos of having a baby. But I know that inevitably it comes back to me...to us. We are supposed to be in control of our lives...not our lives running us. I needed to sit down and make this season a priority. I needed to make it important for us to set up our tree and nativity early in the season and then take the time to enjoy it and reflect upon the meaning of Christmas. Does the baby know the difference? No - he really didn't even "get" the whole 'gift thing' this year. But I know the difference and my husband knows the difference, and next year, we're doing it right.

That's a negatory, Mom!

Our usual bedtime routine for our little monkey is to take a bath in the kitchen sink, head back to our bedroom for jammies, and then it's off to his crib (new routine) in his room for bedtime. During bathtime, I usually try to cram some mushy assortment of baby food into K-man's mouth so he'll have a full enough tummy to make it through the night.

Last night, as I tried to entice him with apples and pears, I directed a spoonful of it towards his mouth. He looked at me, looked at the spoon, said, "NO!", clamped his lips shut until his lips pursed, and snapped his head the other direction. WHAT!? My BABY said "no" for his first word!?

I had visions of "mama"s and "dada"s dancing in my head as his first words of sweet loving connotations reflecting what he'll call us. But all I got was a big fat "NO" from my little dude. I'm not sure what to make of this.

Update on Blogging on the Go

Well, our weekend wasn't quite the hunting adventure we had planned. Oh sure, people got to hunt and get their limits on geese (12 down, 5,684,821 more to go). We, however, got to see the inside of the hospital. After we got in Friday night, Hubster got baby and me settled in to the room and then went back for our luggage. It took him quite a while and when he got back to the room, he looked at me and said, "My chest hurts really bad." And he was so pale. I asked him directly, "Is it indigestion or are you having a heart attack?" Not exactly the question you want to be asking your husband - ever. He does have issues with acid reflux, but he's never had anything like the chest pain. Of course, we didn't have any antacids and neither did anyone in the hotel. A hotel person fixed him some baking soda and water, but when it didn't kick right in, I went to the front desk and asked for paramedics. In just a few minutes, the red and blue lights were flashing in front of the hotel and they were whisking my love away.


I was just thinking on the drive up there that we were too tired to be making this trip. The baby had a rough day with the bloodwork for his allergy tests. Neither of us had had a decent night's rest in almost a month. Yet, he we were hell-bent to make it out to west Texas for a goose hunt. I asked the Lord how much more we could take before we collapsed from utter exhaustion. Then, as I stood in that hotel lobby watching the ambulance drive away while I held our one-year old son in my arms, I knew my answer...though we are tired, there is much more that we can bear. And it's also time for us to re-prioritize our lives and get in to a healthier routine, both physically and spiritually.


Hubby's brother was also in town for the hunt, so he made it up to the hospital before I did. That might be because not only did I have to prep some bottles for the baby, but I went the wrong way on the loop, and missed my exit...twice. He held Kelton while I went back to check on Hubby. They had run an EKG, drawn blood for blood work, and did a chest x-ray. Everything was pointing to really bad indigestion. Plus, by the time I saw him, the pain was gone along with a lot of gas out of his system. He's never never ever going to have Taco Bell again...e-v-e-r. I wanted to get K-man out of the hospital and away from all of those germs, so I took him back to the hotel and got him to bed (after taking the wrong road and going the opposite direction from the hotel for a few miles). Hubby got back around 3 that morning. I'm so glad it was only indigestion and that I still have my husband. And if this ever happens again, we'll do the same thing and call paramedics. Even if the pain had subsided before the medics got there, I'd still be wondering if something bad had happened and we didn't know it. Now we have some peace of mind...and a new exercise routine.

Changing Rooms

K-man had his 1 year check-up yesterday. He's growing nicely and is over the 90th percentile on height and over the 50th percentile on weight. That boy needs some fat on him! His head is still growing a little larger/faster than "normal", so we're going back in a month to see if the rate of growth has steadied out. He's babbling like crazy and seems to invent a new "word" every day. One of the things we discussed with the pediatrician yesterday was Kelton's new technique of crying until he can't breathe and turns purple. She said, "Uh-huh...he's a breath holder. There's lots of them!" Her brother happened to be one and held his breath during potty training as a form of rebellion. What we learned is that the body responds to rises in CO2 in the bloodstream as indicators that the person needs to be "shut-down and rebooted". CO2 rises occur well before drops in the oxygen in the bloodstream. So, when baby blacks out, that's just his body saying, "Hey, Dude! If you aren't going to breathe, then it's nappy-nappy time and I'm taking over!" No harm done. And there are a lot of children who do this several times a day. Thankfully, he hasn't gone that far, yet. I'm hoping he doesn't decide he likes that little trick.

We also discussed his poor sleeping habits and she strongly encouraged us to get K-man out of our room and in to a room of his own. We already knew that when he stirred, we stirred, but we didn't think of it in reverse terms. And she made a good point that the battle will be easier fought now rather that in 2 or 3 years. (2 or 3 years??? I really hadn't planned on him being in there that long!) Our main bedtime battle is the battle of the cries...he will fight and fight with us over how and when he's going to sleep. A bottle and a pillow? A bottle in his pack and play? No bottle and some baby tv? Next to mom or dad on the bed? In the crib? Sometimes it's a 10 minute routine of guzzling the bottle and rolling over to sleep. Other times it's over an hour with a lot of screaming and crying. So, we got his crib moved to his room last night. I hung some lights on his wall that are bears, trees, and fish - made for a good nighlight. We also put a cd player in there for his lullaby cd (I knew that thing would come in handy). K-man had his bath, got dressed in his jammies, then I told him it was bedtime, layed him down in his crib, handed him his bottle, turned his cd on, kissed him, and walked out. After about 5 minutes, I heard *THUNK* "WAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHH!!!!" That was the bottle hitting the side of the crib as he flung it away and decided that he didn't like this new arrangement. And he screamed...and cried...and screamed...I went in after three minutes (I'm a strong one, aren't I?) He was standing in his crib, clinging to the side, and I rubbed his back and hugged him and told him it was bed time and kissed his forehead then walked back out. More screaming and crying...went back in 5 minutes later...more consoling...left again...screaming crying...5 minutes...consoling...re-offered the bottle...left. And so on and so forth for 20 minutes. Somewhere after 20 minutes, he quit screaming and I thought he'd start again in just a minute, so I waited. After a few minutes of silence, my husband popped his head in and looked at me. I shrugged my shoulders. So he went to check on the baby and he was on his tummy sound asleep (in under 25 minutes). He woke up once at midnight, cried a little, but was back asleep by the time Hubby rolled out of bed and walked down our little hall to check on him. He slept until 6:15 this morning. I'm so proud of him for sleeping through his first night! I'm so glad he fussed for only 25 minutes instead of the hours I was prepared for. And I'm so sad over not having him in our room. The corner where his crib was is so empty and I cried over it...and might cry again tonight. I loved being able to lay there and watch him sleep. I loved being able to reach over and touch him when I needed the reassurance that my baby was okay and that all was right in our little world. I loved seeing his little rear stuck in the air while he snoozed away.

I know this is best for the baby. He'll learn to fall asleep on his own and how to soothe himself back to sleep during the night. Those are healthy sleep habits. I know this is best for my husband and me. We'll sleep better and get some more time to ourselves (which we need). But even with all of that knowledge, I still want to rush down that hall and grab my baby and stick him in bed with me. So, here I lead into a question for any readers. Is your bedroom a family friendly room or a parents' only room? And what was your parents' when you were growing up?

To Wii or not to Wii?

Okay, folks, let's hear it...do you own a Wii? Do you wish you did? Do you wish you didn't? Do you get so hooked on it that you have to convince yourself that you must do things around the house that don't involve a hand held electronic device that promises to burn calories while you play? Let me know, because for some wicked reason, I'm considering getting one.

Blogging on the go

Holy cow! I'm blogging from my blackberry! It's some time after 9:30 pm on
Friday night and we just passed through Post, TX. Do you know where Post, TX is? It's in the middle of NOWHERE!!! And there's n-o-t-h-i-n-g going on except the twinkling Christmas lights. Now, albeit I would love to live somewhere like this, but after a whole day at work, three weeks of broken sleep, a sleepy hubby driving, and a baby who cries every 15 minutes even though I'm sitting in the backseat right next to him --- I need something to look at!! Come on, doesn't anyone streak through the middle of town anymore with nothing on but boots and a santa hat??

Note to self - try to restrict travel with the baby to daaaaylight hours as he's afraid of the darkened windows at night. No, the overhead cabin light doesn't help.

I hope those are some freaking dead geese tomorrow morning after tonight's trip. We pulled over in the wal-mart parking lot in Sweetwater to change K-man's dipe and to stretch our legs. Me and my paranoid self kept thinking, "We're gonna get mugged! I'm gonna kick someone's asssss if they try anything! Geez it's cold out here! OH! This bra wasn't built for bouncing! Victoria's secret my asssss!".
So, here we ride passing the 248th 18 wheeler we've seen since leaving the metroplex...if anyone passes gas in this vehicle, I think I'll start walking.

Here we go again...

I'm forming another plan for my family. I think I need to implement "once a month cooking", so I can "freeze a variety of healthy, family friendly meals that can be reheated in minutes after a long day at work" and daycare. I'm sure this one will work!

Okay, so the freezer needs to be cleaned out - again. And it's my husband that always cleans it out because I have bonding issues with things in my freezer that I might use next week...or the next...or for Christmas (next year). And so what that I'm taking up freezer space with that bag of flour that only has 3/4 cup of flour left in it. I'm not putting it in the pantry because weevils might get in to it...inside that plastic freezer bag. Never mind the fact that we've never had weevils in this house. I've had them in a bag of flour once, somewhere, and I didn't like it. So there...I'm weevil proofing my flour. And I know that those 5 bags of vaccuum sealed mystery meat really need to go, but they're vacuum sealed...they're supposed to last like forever. What if we run in to a food shortage? Won't we look silly for throwing away the vacuum sealed stuff? Yes, I'm the same person who will dump the entire bin of ice in the freezer if I think it's sat there for too long and has started tasting funny. That does not mean that I will throw out those 7 open bags of frozen vegetables that we've only eaten half of. They could make a really good vegetable lasagna...next week...or the next...or for next Christmas. I know there's hardly any room in there for the small little freezer packs that we use daily for the baby's bottle bag. That's because I bought all those bags of insta-sticks. You know, fish sticks and chicken strips that you can throw in the even and heat up for a quick snack. Yeah, those that I won't ever cook because I know how high in saturated fat and salt they are, yet I bought them because I had a coupon.

Okay, you're right, it IS time for a freezer cleaning. I must hand over the reigns of our ice box to my Hubby so he can evict all the long term residents. But in the back of my mind I'm wondering...will I really pull out those homemade freezer meals from the once a month cooking session or will I revert to the standard "There's nothing to eat in this house full of food" line? I'm going to give it a shot anyway...after Christmas!