I'm not going to lie to you, I'm farting like mad today. It would be embarrassing if I had to be out in public. I went and ate beans for lunch, figuring I'd make a healthy choice. Last time I make that mistake, for serious. I'd rather be fat than smelly.
Mind you, I'm such a good girl, I've been keeping regular with the fitness and all that. I didn't go for a walk/jog today because I was feeling sore in my middle regions this morning, and that's the regions I just popped a baby out so caution caution, I'm not supposed to be working on my fitness yet, I am still just a month past the whole "childbirth" thing. But I feel great, so I've been powerwalking/jogging most mornings.
Pretty annoying though, I have these pants I bought while pregnant figuring I'd fit no problem. Didn't fit right away. Now they fit my legs and my butt regions just perfectly. They fit overall perfectly, actually. Except for one thing. SKINFLAP! GROSS! All this extra skin from that pregnant belly! Grawr! Tummytuckplz? I totally would if I didn't plan on trying for more kids next year. I just can't believe this skin, for serious! It's awful! Do I shove it into my pants? Do I pull it over? Either way it looks ridiculous! I'm like Adam Sandler from Click but with stretchmarks. rofl. Not quite that flappy, but still....
So it's lowcut and underbelly-maternity pants for me, until this skin (hopefully) starts to go away. Maybe I can jog it off. But it's skin! How do you jog off skin???!!!! Guess I will just jog off any chubbs under the skin and hope that's good enough....?
Good thing I still have my sense of humour, or this would be kind of depressing. :p
Tuesday, August 28, 2007
Sunday, August 26, 2007
Stop and Smell The Baby
My daughter is one of those babies who seem to need constant cuddling sometimes during the day. She's great at night - last night she slept from 9:30 to 5:30 without waking up, at one month old. But sometimes during the day you'll spend hours walking around with her because she'll start crying if you put her down.
It can be tempting to complain about that, even just in my head. But I try to keep things in perspective. Maybe it's easier because I know she might be the only kid we have, or the only biological child we have, considering she wasn't supposed to be possible. Maybe it's easier just because I didn't think I'd get pregnant and hadn't expected to have biological kids for almost two years, ever since Chris told me he couldn't, so I don't take it for granted. But whatever it is, when I find myself thinking wistfully of the pile of laundry I have to do, or the mess in my bedroom, I stop myself and take a good wiff of babysmell. (Anyone says they've never sniffed a baby and I'll call them a liar.)
I mean, really, ten, twenty, and more years down the road, will I look back and say, "Boy, I do wish I had done a few more loads of laundry," or "Too bad my room wasn't super neat, wish I could go back in time and clean it up a few more times...?" No, I really truly doubt it!
But would I look back and say, "The laundry could have waited, I really wish I had just cuddled my baby while she was a baby, and stopped to breathe in that baby smell...?" Yes, I'm sure I would! I've heard other people say similar things, wishing they'd cherished thier time with thier kids (especially parents of teenagers, wishing they'd enjoyed cuddling thier little ones back when they as parents were "I Love You Mom/Dad You're My Hero" instead of "I Hate You Mom/Dad You're So Mean You Don't Let Me Do Anything")
So I told The Husband I don't and won't feel bad about the laundry pile, and I will stop and smell the baby... to me, that smell is way better than roses, and I know I'll spend the rest of my life wishing I had if I don't.
So screw anyone who says I'm spoiling her by cuddling her whenever she cries, I'll cuddle her when she cries as long as she lives if she'll let me. That just doesn't seem like a bad thing, somehow.
It can be tempting to complain about that, even just in my head. But I try to keep things in perspective. Maybe it's easier because I know she might be the only kid we have, or the only biological child we have, considering she wasn't supposed to be possible. Maybe it's easier just because I didn't think I'd get pregnant and hadn't expected to have biological kids for almost two years, ever since Chris told me he couldn't, so I don't take it for granted. But whatever it is, when I find myself thinking wistfully of the pile of laundry I have to do, or the mess in my bedroom, I stop myself and take a good wiff of babysmell. (Anyone says they've never sniffed a baby and I'll call them a liar.)
I mean, really, ten, twenty, and more years down the road, will I look back and say, "Boy, I do wish I had done a few more loads of laundry," or "Too bad my room wasn't super neat, wish I could go back in time and clean it up a few more times...?" No, I really truly doubt it!
But would I look back and say, "The laundry could have waited, I really wish I had just cuddled my baby while she was a baby, and stopped to breathe in that baby smell...?" Yes, I'm sure I would! I've heard other people say similar things, wishing they'd cherished thier time with thier kids (especially parents of teenagers, wishing they'd enjoyed cuddling thier little ones back when they as parents were "I Love You Mom/Dad You're My Hero" instead of "I Hate You Mom/Dad You're So Mean You Don't Let Me Do Anything")
So I told The Husband I don't and won't feel bad about the laundry pile, and I will stop and smell the baby... to me, that smell is way better than roses, and I know I'll spend the rest of my life wishing I had if I don't.
So screw anyone who says I'm spoiling her by cuddling her whenever she cries, I'll cuddle her when she cries as long as she lives if she'll let me. That just doesn't seem like a bad thing, somehow.
Wednesday, August 22, 2007
talking nonsense
My life is all about smiles and talking nonsense, at the moment. Talking nonsense mainly because it a) stimulates Nicole's brain to hear me, no matter how absolutely ridiculous the words, and b) talking nonsense often leads to smiles. B being the bigger motive. Why is it that getting a new baby to smile at you makes you feel like you just achieved greatness? I've had some pretty awesome accomplishments and achievements. Getting Nicole to smile totally beats them all out. 100% on my drama exam? Working with a fashion designer? Losing 10 pounds? Pfft. Give me a babysmile over any of those things.
Although doing a repeat of losing those 10 pounds post-baby would definitely be up there.
Although doing a repeat of losing those 10 pounds post-baby would definitely be up there.
Thursday, August 16, 2007
Nicole Michelle
Okay, I had my baby three weeks ago now. It's been hectic on and off. The real reason I haven't posted since is not really because of the baby. It's more because a) I forgot? b) The internet is sloooowwww here c) we're living at my parents until The Husband finishes building me my house.
She is a little growthspurt! She was born at 8 pounds 12 ounces, was back at her exact birthweight by five days, and by 16 days weighed 10 pounds 2 ounces. She has such a long torso that some NB stuff fits her and some doesn't. In sleepers she's wearing mostly 3-6 months already. Her 0-3mos onesies and pants/bottoms all fit yet, but some of the onesies are getting tight. Speaking of tight. Little girl tights are the cutest ever. As are little skirts with diaper covers. Or, as I prefer to call them, bumcovers. The more ridiculously cute, the better. And even better if the colour pink is involved. Almost everything I have bought myself either is pink or looks really cute with pink. But it's not just me, The Husband loves the pink stuff too, especially if it refers to her being a princess.
My family and friends like to buy her clothes, too. Who doesn't like to dress babies? Not me, that's for sure. I'm not going to lie, I'm super happy she's a girl. I would have been super happy with a boy, but I'm super happy she's a girl. I'm super DUPER happy she's a girl actually, considering she likes to pee when she's being changed. If she had been a boy I would have been peesprayed twice already, and The Husband once. He was funny. I was there when it happened for him, and he was like, AWWW, NOW WHAT?! I just laughed and told him to let her finish and then give her another fresh diaper, and be happy he had the diaper under her at the time. I've lucked out that way every time, too.
Oh, for the record, I think I would rather have been in labour than have that test to see if my water was broken again. Labour wasn't all that bad, it sucked but it was tolerable, as in, the only point where I felt like crying was when I tried the gas and it made me all wonky (while I waited for my epidural they left me the gas but I wouldn't take it, I figured if the labour pain wasn't making me cry and the gas was then I preferred the labour pain.) ... PUSHING, on the other hand, THAT really sucked, but I only pushed for like 15 minutes. I informed Chris at one point, when Nicole was crowning, I'm sure, by the feel of it, that I couldn't do it anymore. He told me I could, and I was intelligent enough to realize that I really didn't have a choice, either the baby had to come out or I was just gonna have to sit there forever in pain. Pushing some more did sound more appealing than having the baby stay there in the crowned position. I also remember thinking the resident was a jackass (excuse my french) when he told me to take it easy and stop pushing or something like that when she was nearly out - probably so he could do some more stretching, and in the end I'm grateful to him, as I walked out of there with one tiny stitch. But honestly, when the baby is nearly out, and you KNOW the baby is nearly out and you are almost done being in so much pain, and the guy on the baby end tells you NOT to just push push push and go for the gold, what flashes across your brain is something along the lines of, "ARE YOU @#$^$%#@$ KIDDING ME?!?!!!!"
Which I didn't say. I didn't say one bad thing the whole time. Actually I didn't say much of anything at all while I was in labour. And the closest I came to saying anything bad was when I gave The Husband a glare and The Finger when he decided it would be funny to take a video of me having a contraction in triage. And there is video proof of that one.
She is a little growthspurt! She was born at 8 pounds 12 ounces, was back at her exact birthweight by five days, and by 16 days weighed 10 pounds 2 ounces. She has such a long torso that some NB stuff fits her and some doesn't. In sleepers she's wearing mostly 3-6 months already. Her 0-3mos onesies and pants/bottoms all fit yet, but some of the onesies are getting tight. Speaking of tight. Little girl tights are the cutest ever. As are little skirts with diaper covers. Or, as I prefer to call them, bumcovers. The more ridiculously cute, the better. And even better if the colour pink is involved. Almost everything I have bought myself either is pink or looks really cute with pink. But it's not just me, The Husband loves the pink stuff too, especially if it refers to her being a princess.
My family and friends like to buy her clothes, too. Who doesn't like to dress babies? Not me, that's for sure. I'm not going to lie, I'm super happy she's a girl. I would have been super happy with a boy, but I'm super happy she's a girl. I'm super DUPER happy she's a girl actually, considering she likes to pee when she's being changed. If she had been a boy I would have been peesprayed twice already, and The Husband once. He was funny. I was there when it happened for him, and he was like, AWWW, NOW WHAT?! I just laughed and told him to let her finish and then give her another fresh diaper, and be happy he had the diaper under her at the time. I've lucked out that way every time, too.
Oh, for the record, I think I would rather have been in labour than have that test to see if my water was broken again. Labour wasn't all that bad, it sucked but it was tolerable, as in, the only point where I felt like crying was when I tried the gas and it made me all wonky (while I waited for my epidural they left me the gas but I wouldn't take it, I figured if the labour pain wasn't making me cry and the gas was then I preferred the labour pain.) ... PUSHING, on the other hand, THAT really sucked, but I only pushed for like 15 minutes. I informed Chris at one point, when Nicole was crowning, I'm sure, by the feel of it, that I couldn't do it anymore. He told me I could, and I was intelligent enough to realize that I really didn't have a choice, either the baby had to come out or I was just gonna have to sit there forever in pain. Pushing some more did sound more appealing than having the baby stay there in the crowned position. I also remember thinking the resident was a jackass (excuse my french) when he told me to take it easy and stop pushing or something like that when she was nearly out - probably so he could do some more stretching, and in the end I'm grateful to him, as I walked out of there with one tiny stitch. But honestly, when the baby is nearly out, and you KNOW the baby is nearly out and you are almost done being in so much pain, and the guy on the baby end tells you NOT to just push push push and go for the gold, what flashes across your brain is something along the lines of, "ARE YOU @#$^$%#@$ KIDDING ME?!?!!!!"
Which I didn't say. I didn't say one bad thing the whole time. Actually I didn't say much of anything at all while I was in labour. And the closest I came to saying anything bad was when I gave The Husband a glare and The Finger when he decided it would be funny to take a video of me having a contraction in triage. And there is video proof of that one.
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