Help for Delaney

You guys, I know I’ve asked for your help before (like here and here), but I’m asking again. My friend Kelli over at Momma Needs a Beer has a beautiful little niece who is struggling for her life. I can’t even type out all the details because the keys are too blurry through tears. Whenever I hear stories like this I just can’t help putting myself in their shoes if the same were to happen to D, and I selfishly pray that it never does.

 

But please go read Delaney’s story here and see if you can help. She is on home-care hospice, and her little family could use any and all bits of assistance. You can straight up donate to The Delaney Rose Fund through PayPal, Kelli is hosting a Thirty-One fundraiser (i just bought an awesome scarf), or if you live in their area you can sign up to take them a meal (last name: Flatter, password: delaney). And if you can’t do any of the above, that’s ok – just please send them your thoughts and prayers.

 

This holiday season will probably be pretty tough for the Flatters, so I thank you for anything you can do. And even though I don’t know them personally, I think I can speak for them in saying they do too.

 

 

 

A mama in the darkness

Tiny hands explore my face as I rock you with your bottle.

The left one grazes my chin and cheek, searching for a strand of hair to twirl. The right one feels my ear and finds my earring. Usually it twists your own hair, but tonight you want mine.

I hope I always remember their touch, their tiny strokes.

Will there be more someday? Right now it is just me and you, and you have all of me.

Your legs dangle off my lap, not kicking about tonight. Calm, ready for bed. You’re getting so big.

Your warm head, fresh from a bath, nestled in the bend of my left elbow. It fits perfectly.

I rock, you drink. It’s early, but you’re tired already and I can tell it’s time.

The snuffles and grunts as you swallow the last milk of the day soon turn into the slow breaths and little snores of your slumber. Sleep comes easily tonight.

I watch you, breathing in every second and trying to etch the memory in my mind for all time.

I smile down at you in the darkness, your eyelids having fluttered shut for the final time for sleep. Tears well up in my eyes, for I know this era is fleeting.

I don’t want it to go.

They say we have to give this up soon, but not tonight. Not now.

You don’t need to be burped anymore, but I put you on my shoulder when the bottle is done anyway. I love when you sleep up there. You fit.

Your little left hand falls to rest on my left shoulder as you turn yourself around, getting comfortable in your dreams. I kiss it, then your cheek as I lay you in your crib. Face down, knees pulled in underneath you, bottom up in the air. Your favorite position.

I love you. Every piece of you. Every fiber of your being and every sparkle of your soul, wherever it may take you. Hopefully not too far away.

I will always love you like this. Forever.

 

This was originally intended to only be a little ode to D, but it just so happens to fit in with a couple writing prompts. So I’m linking up at both Mama Kat’s Writer’s Workshop and Heather’s Just Write.

 

 

1 year

As of today, that’s how long I’ve been back at work after having D. 1 entire year. Hmm, how do I feel about that?

 

Well, I’d still much rather be either working from home or staying home period so I could be with her full-time instead of having to use daycare. So there’s that. Fortunately we do love her daycare, and I know she has a great time there, as evidenced by her smiles and waves good-bye most every morning. Plus she’s learning a lot, so I’m definitely not complaining about the caliber of daycare. It’s just needing it period that I’d rather not have.

 

How is work? Well, in some respects it’s better than when I first came back. As in I no longer feel like I’m fighting for my own goddamn job every single day. In other respects it’s worse, as in see paragraph above… So I guess the answer to this one is my standard “Work is work.”

 

How is D? Awesome, of course. The difference between November 8, 2010, and November 8, 2011, just in her alone is astonishing. A little photographic comparison for you… Then:

 

11-8-10
11-8-10

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

And now:

 

10-30-11

 

For those 2 pictures from last year I had to search all the way back through my text messages from R from that day, which I found amusing. All you working mamas know how heart-wrenching that first day back at your desk and away from your baby is, so here’s a little peek at how I was feeling that day:

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

A whole year, eh? Crazy. I will tell you 1 thing that hasn’t changed since that first day back last year, though, not even in the slightest. The moment I get to leave work to go pick up D, see her smiley little face again, and know we get to spend the rest of the night all together at home is still the highlight of my day. I have a feeling that won’t ever change, either.

 

 

A whole new (messy!) vocabulary

Since becoming parents, a whole slew of new words has begun populating our everyday vocabulary – breast milk, breast pump, breast any-kind-of-paraphernalia (those more so in the first months than now, but still never before D was born), diapers, wipes, butt cream (what, you used that one before you had kids? ok, then i’m the weirdo), onesie, teething, jumperoo, peekaboo!, spit-up… The list is quite lengthy, but I think you get the idea.

 

There is one word, however, that has unfortunately become more prevalent than the others. A word that has been the focal point of many a conversation and has caused load upon load upon load of laundry. Really, all from a single word? Yes really, all from a single word. What word could possibly have such an impact in its singularity, you must certainly be wondering by now? That word, my friends, would be poopsplosion. Yes, you read that correctly. Poopsplosion. As in poop-splosion. What the? May I have a definition? Absolutely!

 

poop.splo.sion [poop-sploh-zhuh’n]

noun

  • the act or instance of baby poop exploding out of a diaper and onto everything/one in sight – clothes, changing area, car seat, furniture, walls, floors, the baby, you.

Can you use it in a sentence, please? Why, surely!

 

“I picked up D only to discover her entire back and legs were covered in fecal matter due to another poopsplosion.”

 

Poopsplosion.

 

Our first encounter with this lovely word came roughly 3 weeks after D was born. And looking back on it, I’m actually quite surprised we made it that long before coming face-to-face with the dreaded poopsplosion. We had gone to my mom’s house for the better part of a week, and both my sisters and my dad came into town to meet D for the first time. It was a lovely visit, really. You know, first-time grandparents and aunts and all.

 

All went swimmingly, too, until shortly before it was time to come home. Babies seem to have magical timing, don’t they? I had been holding D on my lap and turned her around to go up onto my shoulder, when I noticed a damp sensation on my hand. Well that’s odd, I thought. Did she spit up or drool on me? Upon further inspection, I realized it was neither of the above options. Rather, a tell-tale yellowish stain began creeping its way across the back of her onesie. Oh no! Is that what I think it is? Yep, it’s what I thought it was. Poop.

 

Quick, let’s get her changed before it gets worse. Ha. Ha ha. HAHAHAHA! Nice try. Before I knew it (and of course before i could get her into the room we were using as the changing area), there was bright yellow breastfed baby poop engulfing my sweet baby girl. Up her entire back, out through the leg holes of the diaper, all around to the front of the onesie, on her legs, on her socks, in her socks, on her arms (what? yeah, i don’t know either). POOPSPLOSION!!

 

Needless to say, tiny little D went right into the sink for a nice warm bath, poopsplosion clothes and all. Don’t worry, she was quickly separated from the mess and given a new, clean bathing vessel, but we just wanted to try to contain the monster as soon as possible before the poopsplosion could claim any more victims. And thus, dear readers, began our lives with a new word – poopsplosion. I’d love to say that we and the poopsplosions parted ways after those newborn and breastfed months, but not even close. In fact, we’ve had a couple encounters as recently as this week. There is a very good reason we have to keep a spare outfit on hand at daycare. Twice this week D came home in different clothes. And you know what that means… More poopsplosions and more laundry. Hooray!! (insert much sarcasm here)

 

So there you have it. Our first (of MANY!) really messy moment with a baby, and our introduction to a new vocab word all rolled into one. Lucky us! And now I’m curious – what about you? Have any messy moments that stand out in your memories? In my experience, the poopier, the funnier!

 

 

I received information about Clorox’s Bleach It Away campaign and am sharing my messy moment for the chance to win prizes from The SITS Girls. To learn more about the messy moment program, check out www.BleachItAway.com.  Sharing your story on the Clorox fan page gets you entered for the chance to win $25,000 and daily prizes, and you can grab a coupon for Clorox® Regular Bleach.

 

I’m also linking this up with Mama Kat’s Writer’s Workshop.

 

 

It’s Mom Sexy time!

First off, what do you think of the new look? I decided things needed a little sprucing up around here, so I gave my blog a mini-makeover. Let me know. Good, bad, or otherwise, I’m always open to feedback and suggestions. Now onto the main event…

 

A few weeks ago I posted about finding a little Mom Sexy of my own one night at the gym. Well Mary Fischer, the Mommyologist herself, actually read that little ditty and loved it. I was SO excited! She’s since started a new Mom Sexy Fridays series over on her blog, and of course I volunteered to be a part of it. She took the time to read my small post, after all, so I definitely want to do what I can to contribute back. And I am thrilled to announce that today is my day to be featured. THRILLED, people! So please, head on over to the Mommyologist to see what amazing things I have to say today, won’t you? Happy Mom Sexy Friday!

 

My Mom Sexy Friday…

 

 

Every little bit counts

Recently I’ve started getting back into exercising in the morning (something i swore off years ago) with a workout DVD I bought a few months back, and I must admit I’m pretty proud of how well I’m sticking with it so far. It’s Ripped in 30 with Jillian Michaels, and it’s everything I wanted in a workout – short (each one is about 25-30 minutes long, including warm up and cool down), full-body, sweat-inducing, and tough! This is no jog-in-place-for-a-minute-then-do-a-sit-up workout. No. It kicks your ass! There are 4 different workouts, 1 for each week of a month (hence the “ripped in 30” part), and after 3 weeks I’m still only doing the week 2 workout. Woof.

When I got into this routine 3 weeks ago, I did it to free up time at night. We desperately need to get back to doing some work on our house, and since R does all of that I need to be able to watch D after work single-handedly. Plus I hate running when it’s cold and/or dark outside, and unfortunately I think we’ve finally hit that turning point in the seasons. Although, oddly enough, I’m starting to miss my couple little runs each week. Maybe I’ll try to sneak one in here and there, as long as I can still feel my digits. But anyway, this DVD has turned out to be a decent solution.

Wednesdays and Fridays (and sometimes mondays if i’m unable to get to my monday night group workout with my trainer) I get up at 5am, throw on my workout clothes, head out to the living room, unroll my yoga mat and grab my 5 lb. weights, and turn on the Xbox. Jillian and her 2 rotating cronies proceed to wipe the floor with my body for the next 23ish minutes (i skip the cool down and substitute my shower instead. bad form, i know, but whatevs), and I’m still ready to head out the door at our normal 7am without a hitch. So I wake up 40 minutes earlier than usual, but in that short time I get my exercise and shower in for the day, am pretty much always more awake by the time we leave than the non-exercise days, and start off the day feeling accomplished and really good. The best part, though? I DON’T HAVE TO LEAVE THE HOUSE. Hard to make excuses not to do it when I don’t even have to open the front door.

As the title suggests, you’re supposed to do this workout continually for 30 days, working your way up to level 4 by advancing to a new workout after each week. Then in 30 days, you’re magically ripped like Jillian and her sidekicks. Or something along those lines… Seeing as I only do it twice a week, however, I’m progressing as I feel comfortable. Which right now seems to be about 2 weeks on each level (so 4 workouts spaced out over 2 weeks for each level instead of 7 days in a row for each level. ouch). Even at a reduced schedule than what the plan recommends, I think it’s doing the trick. I feel great after each workout, and when I switch up to the next routine, I’m definitely sore for a bit. No pain, no gain, right?

Now this 3-times-a-week exercise regimen pales in comparison to my pre-D gym rat days where I would spend a good hour there after work every day and often on weekends, too, but hey, I don’t have time for that mess anymore. And that’s ok. I cancelled my gym membership at the beginning of this year, and I haven’t regretted that decision once in the almost 11 months since then. I was very fortunate to have shed my baby weight through breastfeeding and walks with D in the stroller those first couple months after she was born, so the goal of my exercise this year has just been to get my body back in shape. And I think I have. I did a pretty good job of running regularly this spring and summer, I do abs and push ups on my own most days of the week, I still have my weekly sessions with my trainer, and now I have my twice-weekly mornings with Jillian. And I feel good. And all my clothes are fitting properly, always a plus.

But sometimes I feel like I should be getting more exercise. I mean 3 times a week is good and all, but like I said, it’s much less than my body was used to before getting pregnant, so I know I can handle a lot more than this. But dammit, I just don’t have (or try very hard to make, anyway) more time for it. So I’ve done a little brainstorming, and I realized that many things in my everyday routine actually do count toward upping my exercise quota without me thinking much about them. And most of these I’ve discovered since having D, for since I’m not torching calories on a spin bike or treadmill each day anymore I am trying to dust a couple wherever I can.

  • Having a growing toddler in the house, period. D weighs close to 25 lbs. now, so constantly picking her up and toting her around is a great bicep blaster. One of our friends who came over the other week held her for a good half hour, and when he put her down he even commented on how surprisingly tired his arm was, simply from having her up there. My guns are thanking you, little one.
  • Using my abs to straighten up. I’ve just noticed recently what a difference this one makes, but I can totally feel it. Whenever I’m bent over at the waist – washing my face, washing dishes, picking up another pile of crap from wherever it may lie – I would normally just stand straight up without even thinking about it. This can be really hard on a back that already aches from carrying around that aforementioned toddler. So now I concentrate on engaging my abs and using them to straighten my back, kind of like a reverse sit up. This helps strengthen your core (abs, obliques, and lower back), and doesn’t put nearly as much strain directly on your back. Don’t believe me? Try it. And if you notice no difference, then by all means, feel free to call me a liar. It’s ok, I can take it.
  • Lifting with my legs, not my back. Everyone knows this rule when doing any heavy lifting, but it certainly comes into play more and more as that toddler gets bigger and bigger (read heavier and heavier). The last thing I need is to be out of commission with a strained back.
  • Using my butt to stand up, not my knees. I used to do this wrong constantly. Whenever I’d be crouched down, say trying to retrieve something D dropped while in my arms and trying not to drop her in the process, I would push through my knees to stand back up. This killed my knees every time, and they would often pop or crack in revolt. Now, whenever I’m down in a low squat position, I turn it into just that – a squat. Don’t push on your quads with your hands and force your body staggering back upright through your knees; engage your quads, glutes, and hammies to rise. You won’t even need your hands to push on anything. You can feel your buns burning, which is always a good thing. And for extra credit, squeeze your core along with your butt. Feel more burn. I’ve heard that squats are good for quieting unhappy babies, too, so if you find yourself in that predicament give this one a shot. Silenced baby + toned booty = happy mama.
  • Pushing a vacuum more effectively. Or a broom, or a mop, or whatever floor cleaning device you have. Again, use your core. Tighten up your midsection, put a little oopmf into each push, and you can work your biceps and triceps too.
  • Take the stairs. In fact, I take the stairs 2 at a time whenever I can. Overachiever, I know. How many loads of laundry do you do each week? Is your laundry room on a different floor than where you fold or put away the clothes? How many trips up and down those stairs does that equal? ‘Nuff said.

So you see, there are plenty of little things you’re probably already doing that help contribute to your overall daily exercise. And if you’re not, then try these out. It’s zero extra work, it’s just tweaking actions you already make. They’re easy, and if you do them right you really can feel them working. Sure, none of the above tips will break a sweat like a 5 mile run or build your biceps like you’ve been curling with 50 lb. dumbbells, but then again not much does besides those activities themselves. I just like knowing that even though I don’t exercise as much as I used to right now, every little bit really does count.