My Blog in Ten Photos

Posted on November 12, 2013 by Amy

This is the most fun idea for a blog post ever. I didn’t come up with it, but I’m going with it anyway. I totally stole the idea from Jen (see her post here). You’re gonna love it. I think. Or maybe not. Either way, it’s okay. I’m going to have fun doing it.

Okay, so here’s what Jen did. She went through her blog’s media files and picked out the 10 images that best represent what her blog is about. Hence her title, “Ten images that tell you everything you need to know about this blog.”

How freaking fun is that? I love looking back through old photos I’ve posted on my blog. So, I did. And I picked out 10 of them. So here you go. Ten photos that capture the essence of this little blog:

I write about the stuff my kids and I do. Maybe it’s not super exciting material, but whatever. I’m leaving a record for them here. The Summer Fun List I put together this year was one of the best things I’ve done. And I’ve blogged about it (obnoxiously) often since then. Here is the original post with the image. The list is also mentioned here and here. Oh, and here. And here.

Kids’ books, grown up books, love me some books. Original post.

I ought to have a picture of Super Friend and myself here, seeing as how I can’t stop telling you all about how awesome she is and how every mom needs one. A Super-mom-friend I mean. But oddly, I don’t have any pictures of the two of us and very few of her. So, instead here are my two older girls with her oldest three Mini-Supers. Original post.

Original post. And here.

I write about my husband a lot. Because he’s just the best (he’s the bearded one, BTW). I also write about family a lot. His. Mine. Ours. Several posts were dedicated this year to the family reunion party to end all family reunion parties: The Labor Day Party. Post #1. Post #2. Post #3 (containing ^^ that picture).

Original post containing this photo is here. But the photo is a much better visual for this post. Or even this one. Or this one.

I like to write about cooking, and post cute pics of my kids doing it with me. Original post.

Sometimes I get kind of crafty. And I like to do it on the cheap. Then I like to share. Original post.

We travel a lot. Original post.

Winter. It seems like every year I write about how much snow we are getting and how much of a pain it is to get my kids dressed to go out and play. As if I’m surprised that we are getting snow. In winter. In Wisconsin. Last year we had a fun visitor to add some interest to the gee-whiz-we-have-so-much-snow posts.

There you have it. Ten photos. My blog. Fun stuff.

5 Ways Natural Childbirth is Like Running a Marathon. And 5 Ways It’s Not.

Posted on October 30, 2013 by Amy

When I was pregnant with Miss I read lots of things about preparing for childbirth. I remember in several instances it being suggested that moms think of labor as like running a marathon. At the time I had run two marathons, and I mostly just thought the suggestion seemed cliché. So I didn’t pay much attention to it.

Since then, I have given birth without pain medication twice. I’m not preparing at the moment to either run a marathon or give birth. But for some reason the comparison between the two experiences was on my mind the other day, and I realized that there actually are some ways in which natural childbirth is like running a marathon.

And then there are ways in which it is not.

Here are my thoughts on how they’re similar:

1. They can both be long and painful.

2. You have to remain focused on your end goal during both.

^Even in June, Lake Superior is like an ice bath.

3. They both require serious mental and physical endurance.

4. They can both involve lots of sweating and make you very tired.

5. They both sometimes involve throwing up (though I did not throw up during either of my marathons).

Here’s how they’re different:

1. You can practice for a marathon. Not so much for a natural childbirth. Not really anyway.

When you’re training to run a marathon, you run. You practice the act that you’re going to actually be doing, in increasing increments until your body is ready. Usually the longest training run for a marathon is 22-ish miles (if I remember correctly), so on the big day, you just add on 4 more and you’re all set. Now admittedly, that’s a very long 4 miles by the time you get to the end of a marathon, but you still trained for it.

You can’t practice childbirth. You can’t simulate contractions, no matter what they tell you about holding ice in your hands and breathing through the “pain.” Whatever. It’s not the same. And you sure as hell can’t practice the final push. No increasing increments. No.

Sure, breathing exercises, reading books, doing yoga and meditation, all that is great, but it is not true practice for the real deal. You just can’t practice that.

2. Giving birth is a completely natural process for your body to go through. Running 26.2 miles at once is not.

I guess this is reassuring, given #1.

3. When you’re running a marathon, you can stop running for a bit and walk if you need to. Heck, I suppose you could even sit down and take a break if you had to. You can get a drink of water, eat a banana, stop and go to the bathroom if needed. You get the picture.

You cannot do this during labor. It just keeps going. Walking is not an option.

4. After you finish a marathon, you can sleep for 12 hours if you feel like it. Not so much with a sweet newborn.

5. At least in my experiences, there is very little screaming and crying during a marathon. In fact, I didn’t observe any. I cannot say the same for my experiences with natural childbirth.

^This picture just makes me want to laugh. Somehow I had never seen it before going through to select photos for this post. I look so pitiful.

Can you think of any other ways these two insanely difficult and wonderful experiences are similar? Different?

Peaceful and Joyful

Posted on October 23, 2013October 23, 2013 by Amy

Today I had an acupuncture appointment. Each time I have gone, when I start the treatment, the doctor tells me to try to focus my mind on a time and/or place that is peaceful and joyful.

As I psychologist, I have done lots of work with clients on mental imagery. I’ve trained plenty of people to use it for relaxation. I’ve studied mindfulness and taught many people how to be mindful. But I’m not that great at doing it myself.

I can do it. It’s just not easy for me. So when I am directed to focus on mental imagery of something peaceful and joyful, I can’t spend 20 minutes focusing on just one scene. Can’t do it.

So I flow through lots of memories of peaceful and joyful times, picture myself in various peaceful and joyful places. I find it interesting to think about the scenes that come to my mind.

Here are a few of them:

^^ The Farm, where we got married

Several moments from our wedding day came to mind. Also, any time I’m in this guy’s arms = peaceful+joyful

^^ Every single time (P.S. this is an old picture, from when I found out I was pregnant with Lass)

Hawaii 2010:

^^The place we had breakfast most mornings

The Farm. The day I married my true love. Finding out I was pregnant. Being hugged my my husband and girls. Our trip to Hawaii.The first time I saw/held each of my children. Seeing my girls meet their new sisters for the first time. Church.

I imagined myself in each of these places/moments and felt peaceful and joyful. It’s a fabulous way to spend 20 minutes. I highly recommend it (needle-poking optional).

What images make you feel peace and joy?

My Six Favorite Shopping Spots

Posted on October 14, 2013 by Amy

Do you have stores that you just know you need to stay away from? The stores that you know will entice you to spend more money than you intended, every time you walk through the doors? And yet you just. can’t. stop. going…

No? Oh.

Well, I have six. Okay, four and two websites. I’m a modern girl, after all, and with three little kids, shopping from the comfort of my armchair is too lovely to not do whenever possible.

Okay, are you dying to know? (yes, this is the best material I could come up with today, pretend you’re on pins and needles here).

#6 Zulily – I mentioned this one in Friday’s post. Zuliliy is something that I should never have started. It’s like some computer spy knows exactly the kinds of stuff I love to shop for (kids clothes and homeschooling materials) and then sends me a daily email with these things featured and on sale. Sometimes I think of things that I want (like kids boots) and then I watch Zuliliy every day to see when they have a good sale (like they did yesterday, I got three pairs of boots cheaper than I would have been able to even at Target). But most of the time, when I’m innocently watching the sales for something I know I want (or just unable to stop myself from opening my daily email to see what goodies they have to offer), I’ll just happen to come across something that I wasn’t even thinking about getting but immediately realize I must have. Like a four-foot-long skeleton floor puzzle or a wildlife bingo game.

#5 The Dollar Tree – Everything’s $1. They have a teachers’ section and crafts. Enough said.

#4 The local Catholic store – I don’t let myself go to this store anymore (usually). Every time I go in I buy books. And stuff for teaching my kids. And other stuff. I have stacks of books to read. I need to stop buying books.

#3 Hobby Lobby – This place has some sort of magnetic pull on me. I find myself wanting to go there all the time. I just love looking at their seasonal decor and crafty stuff. And I always buy my frames there because they are forever 50% off. For the past several days I have been dying to go in there and get some stiff black and white felt to make ghosts and bats for Halloween decor. I really want to, but I have resisted. How likely do you think it is that I could go in and just get the felt, and nothing else?

#2 Amazon – I have Amazon Prime and I could never leave my house. I can order darn near anything and have it delivered to my house, for free, in two days. Anything. And I can order gifts and have them sent to other people, also for free in two days. I do like to try to shop locally, but this is just too good sometimes.

And the #1? Can you guess. Of course you can.

#1 Target – Naturally. Target is much more than a place to buy things. It’s a place to go to get out of the house with the kids when you don’t know where the heck else to go. They have big carts to hold the two big girls. They have a cafe where I can get snacks for the kids. They have Starbucks in the cafe. What more could a mom ask for? And you can buy almost anything there. I go there at least once a week.

We even ate dinner there after swimming lessons a couple of weeks ago when I needed to buy something and Daddy had a meeting.

Dinner conversation over the hum of a slurpee machine.

So, what are your favorites?

Can I Become a Morning Person?

Posted on September 26, 2013 by Amy

I’m trying something new. Waking up early in the morning, before any of my kids get up, to have a little time with my coffee, my computer, a book.

I think I’m a better mom if I don’t start the morning by waking at the same time as my kids to immediate needs of changing diapers, making breakfasts, finding lost toys, etc.

At least, this is my hope.

I am not a morning person.

Never have been. When I was in college and graduate school for example, I regularly stayed up until 3 or 4 AM and then slept until noon whenever possible.

Of course I haven’t had that kind of schedule in a long time, but the point is, morning is not my natural prime time.

Today my goal was just to get out of bed early. Period. I set an alarm and got up at 6.

My plan is that I will begin regularly exercising again during these early mornings. I had a trial run of this a few weeks ago and it was good. One morning I actually got up at 4:20 AM to make it to a 5:00 workout! I won’t make that a regular occurrence, but getting a workout in first thing in the morning is good for me.

I might need to start going to bed earlier, which is very painful for me but probably necessary.

I had to force myself out of bed this morning. But here I am. It’s 6:46 AM, my husband and my kids are still asleep. It’s peaceful at this time of day, and I like getting myself together before beginning my day for real when my family wakes.

I hear a little person stirring upstairs now.

Are you a morning person or a night owl?

More On Yoga Pants. And Kindness. And Being Judgmental.

Posted on September 25, 2013September 25, 2013 by Amy

I have had an interesting response to last week’s “Yoga-Pants-Wearing Mom” post.

The post was featured on BlogHer, and it has received quite a few comments over there and on their Facebook page. Apparently lots of people have opinions about the matter of whether or not moms should wear yoga pants and/or what it says about us if we do.

Most of the comments in response the post weren’t bothersome or even surprising to me. There were people who mentioned their beliefs that people who wear yoga pants: look like “slob[s],” don’t “have respect” for themselves, or disappoint their husbands with their clothing choices.

Meh. I’ve read it all before, which is what prompted me to write the post in the first place.

The one thing that kind of bugged me though, was the comments suggesting that, by wearing yoga pants, I (and other moms who do this) am somehow not setting a good example for my children.

Huh.

I have a hard time understanding that one.

I do lots of things to try to set a good example for my daughters. My choice of pants is not something that I see as a big example-setting opportunity.

So then, just what kind of example do I set when I wear yoga pants?

Hmmm.

Maybe I’m letting my kids know that I’m not overly concerned with what others think of what I wear.

Maybe I’m telling them that I value being able to have fun with them more than I value wearing a certain type of clothing.

Maybe I’m showing them that I am confident in myself regardless of how I look.

Does wearing yoga pants send the message to them that I don’t value myself? That I think it’s okay to not take care of oneself?

Um, no.

My kids might get that message if I frequently criticized myself or made self-deprecating comments, and I happened to be wearing yoga pants while doing so.

It might send that message if I wore dirty yoga pants and also never showered or brushed my teeth or exercised.

But I don’t do those things. Crisis averted.

Perhaps my wearing yoga pants tells my girls that it’s more important to be active and embrace life than to dress up and then worry about getting dirty or rumpled.

Maybe it tells them that it’s okay to wear what makes them feel good instead of what everyone else says is “fashionable.”

Who knows? Honestly, at this point I doubt that my girls are taking any kind of “message” from my choice of pants.

However, I know that they do and will always get the message from me that, except for a few times in life when it is appropriate and prudent to be concerned about how your clothing is perceived by others (i.e. during a job interview), it’s okay to just be yourself. And it’s important to let others do the same.

My kids dress themselves every day. Aside from an occasional veto for seasonal inappropriateness or a stain, I let them choose what they wear, and I don’t interfere. I don’t care if they match. Except when we’re going to church or for certain special occasions, I don’t care if they’re dressed casually. I intentionally only buy them comfortable clothing, because I don’t want them to feel constrained by what they’re wearing either.

I want them to feel free to run and climb and get dirty and play.

But more than that, I don’t ever want them to get the message from me or anyone else that’s it’s cool to judge other people based on how they look or what they wear. I want them to get that it’s more important to be kind than to be wearing the latest fashion fad. That what they do is more important than what they wear, and likewise for those they encounter in life. I hope they will choose their friends and mates based primarily on how those people treat them and not on how popular those people are, what kind of car they drive, or if they wear the “right” clothes.

A random little boy helped Lass on the hay bale fort yesterday. She was so excited to tell me about this and how kind he was to her. She never once mentioned what he was wearing or what he looked like.

I like talking to them about how to be kind and helpful to others. About how good it feels when someone else treats them that way.

I don’t spend time talking to them about what others look like except when they occasionally ask, as of course young kids do.

And when they say, “Mom, why is that man so fat?” or “Why is her skin so brown?” my response is simply, “Because people come in all shapes and sizes, and that’s okay.”

So there you have it. What started out last week as a glib post about wearing yoga pants has morphed into a commentary on kindness and trying not to be so judgmental.

That said, I’ll add that I’m not a Pollyanna, and I know that it is human nature to judge. I’m certainly no saint when it comes to having judgmental thoughts about others. I try not to act on them, and I don’t discuss them with my kids.

They will have plenty of time to learn about the judgments people tend to make about each other. I’ll do my best to help them make good decisions for themselves and to treat others with respect and kindness, regardless of differences.

But for now, we’ll wear comfy clothes and just play.

I Am a Yoga-Pants-Wearing-Mom

Posted on September 18, 2013 by Amy

In the past few months, I’ve seen several things online dissing yoga pants. Sometimes indirectly, sometimes not.

I’ve read articles in which moms are chastised for wearing yoga pants to the grocery store or playground. “Yoga pants are for wearing to yoga!,” they say. These tend to be written with a pretty transparent suggestion that the author is trying to “help” the poor, misled mothers who dare to go out of their homes in yoga pants and *gasp!* no makeup. As in, “Moms! Wake up! You are ruining yourself and your children! You would feel so much better if you put on some high heels and mascara! And by the way, you are a sloth! Love, Your online BFF who hates you.”

I’m here to stick up for the yoga pant.

And for the moms who wear them.

Hello. My name is Amy, and I’m Yoga-Pants-Wearing-Mom.

There, I said it. Is that so wrong?

No it’s not. Here’s why:

First of all, yoga pants are comfy! Duh. With three kids under five I spend lots of time squatting, kneeling, bending, sitting on the floor, and otherwise contorting myself to get on my kids’ level. When I am at home, I wear yoga pants 99.9% of the time. Jeans are not my friend.

Lots of people might say, “Sure, you wear yoga pants at home, but there’s no need to wear them out of the house!”

Well. I disagree. When it comes time to go to, say, the grocery store, and I’m corralling three kids to go to the bathroom, get dressed, brush their teeth, do their hair, get their shoes on, and so forth, the last thing I’m thinking of is, “Gosh, I’m wearing yoga pants and about to put on flip flops! That’s not acceptable. I better go change into some jeans and a cute pair of shoes!” Nope. I don’t do that. I usually do manage to brush my teeth, put on deodorant, brush my hair, and put on a little bit of makeup. But beyond that? Forget it. The yoga pants stay on.

Plus, I just can’t justify the extra laundry that would result from my wearing two different outfits every day. I wear clean (okay, mostly clean, sometimes I don’t notice the peanut butter smear/toothpaste drip/other unknown stain until I get home) yoga pants and a tee shirt, and have no interest in changing into a different outfit for an outing, which I would just end up changing back out of upon arriving home again. Double the laundry, and why bother? No need, I say.

Contrary to what some people seem to think, I don’t wear yoga pants because I don’t care about my appearance. I don’t wear them because I’m depressed and can’t manage to dress myself. I don’t feel unattractive because I’m wearing them. It doesn’t make me feel better to get dressed up when I go the the grocery store. It makes me feel uncomfortable. And clumsy.

I wear them because they’re comfy, and I’m lazy about changing into different pants and doing extra laundry. And that’s it.

Yes, of course I do wear jeans or other nicer pants sometimes, but with each child this effort seems to have gotten less frequent.

I wear yoga pants to the grocery store. To the library. To the park. To Target. To play dates.

To be clear, I do have a few rules about my yoga pants.

I don’t wear them if they have stripes down the side. That just seems to scream “I’m exercising!” in my opinion, and I don’t feel the need to make that statement. “I’m comfy” is fine with me.

I don’t wear yoga pants to restaurants. Except occasionally when we take the kids to a super casual place for a family date night and I forget to change before we leave. Okay, I confess, that’s what usually happens for family date night. So, let me rephrase that to say that I don’t wear yoga pants for evenings out with adults. I actually love to get dressed up for date night with my hubby.

I don’t wear them to organized outings. For example, I wear them to the library, but probably not to story time. I wear them to a play date at Super Friend’s house, but not to a play group outing to the nature center. Well, most likely not.

And I don’t wear yoga pants (or jeans) to church.

Aside from those few things, I’m all about my yoga pants.

I’m in a coffee shop typing this and wearing them now. Comfy.

What are you wearing?

The Simple Things

Posted on June 14, 2013June 14, 2013 by Amy

Sometimes the littlest things make me the happiest.

Like watching my kids play with rocks.

Honestly, I can’t even describe how much I love to watch how creative their play is.

With rocks.

Miss informed me they were playing a game called “Get Rocks Clean.”

They were very intent on cleaning their rocks, though there was much more to it than that. This game was quite involved.

And I was so excited when Miss said, “Mom, I’ll put my clean rock up here now and the sun will evaporate the water and it will be dry.” Pause, “But there aren’t any clouds…”

She was thinking of our discussion of the water cycle and how evaporation leads to the formation of clouds.

Um, I get kind of giddy when she randomly talks about something that I taught her in our homeschool lessons.

The simple things…

Sis loves rocks too.

Rocks.

Simple.

I have been wanting a storage shelf for our art stuff for a long time. One like this:

I saw one like this at Miss’s preschool, and I loved it so much I looked for one of my own. I found several places to order one online, but I could never bring myself to actually spend the money.

Well. Miss’s old preschool teacher closed the school about two months after I took Miss out and started homeschooling. This past weekend she had a yard sale and was selling off a ton of the stuff from the school. I was so upset because we’re out of town, and I couldn’t go. But she let me put dibs on the stuff I wanted! She even showed me pics on Facebook.

I got a shelf just like the one above. Actually the shelf that inspired my love of The Shelf. I got it for a steal and it’s already put together and I don’t have to pay shipping or pay extra for the storage bins…

I am unreasonably excited about this shelf that I’m getting. Seriously.

I might have gotten up and done a little happy dance when I sealed the deal with Miss’s old teacher over FB chat.

And I might have spent the past 24-ish hours dreaming up ways to rearrange our homeschool room to accommodate the new things I got.

Because I didn’t just get that one wonderful shelf. I got another hinged/folding shelf, and a paper cutter, and a board game, and a box full of stuff for a Zoo unit that I just happened to see in a picture she sent me of the shelf. We are doing a Zoo unit next after Horses!

I’m giddy I tell you.

Simple things.

And here’s one more.

I have come to appreciate the beauty of a concrete patio this week.

Our driveway is asphalt, which isn’t really conducive to playing barefooted.

Or lying down.

If my kids even sit on it to draw with their sidewalk chalk or examine a bug their pants get all blackened. It makes everything black and gross.

So usually they sit in the grass or color on our brick walkway, which isn’t all that fun because how much can you draw on a brick?

But concrete?

That’s the stuff.

It’s just right for bare feet and rolling around and making art.

I never occurred to me until today how lovely concrete is.

By the way, Sidewalk chalk paint: Crush a stick of chalk in a ziplock, add it into a little bit of water, stir, voila!

Simple.

Speaking of Awkward… A Word About Tattoos

Posted on May 13, 2013May 14, 2013 by Amy

You might have noticed when I posted the following photo in last Friday’s post that I have a tattoo.

I actually have two.

The one pictured above was done in the summer of 1995 (I was 19). The other was the summer of 2000.

In choosing the places to get tattooed, both times I selected spots on my body where I could easily cover the tattoo if necessary in pretty much any type of outfit (shorts, tank top, etc), but where it might be shown occasionally, like when wearing a bathing suit. Seemed like a good way to do it.

The second tattoo fits these criteria also. It’s on my lower back.

Might I make note of the fact that the second tattoo was done five years before the movie “Wedding Crashers” was released, in which the term “tramp stamp” was coined to refer to a tattoo appearing on a woman’s lower back? (at least I think that’s where the term comes from, I never heard it before seeing that movie).

Now that I’m in my, uh, late 30s, my tattoos seem less awesome than they did when I first got them.

I still kind of like the one on my leg. At least I don’t hate it. It’s just three little footprints. I’m sort of indifferent to it.

But the one on my back has got. to. go. I have some serious tattoo regret about that one. Two yellow roses with stems twisted together. Gag. What was I thinking? And the “tramp stamp” joke? While it isn’t the reason I regret the tat, it certainly doesn’t help matters.

Someday I will have the back tattoo removed. Possibly the leg tat too.

Now, on to the awkward part.

My kids, naturally have seen my tattoos.

Naturally they ask me what they are. I tell them. Then, naturally they ask why I got those tattoos. Good question kids.

My response thus far has been, “Well, Mommy made a bad choice to get those tattoos.” And then of course they ask why it was a bad choice, and I explain because I was much younger when I chose to get them, and now I no longer want the tattoos but they don’t come off, so I have to go to the doctor someday to get them off. Thus, bad choice.

I always thought that was a pretty good response. I like to teach my kids about making choices and dealing with the results. I try not to shy away from allowing them to see examples of choices I have made, good and bad. So, explaining it the way I have done seemed appropriate. I might even say it seemed quite clever.

But then. Oh, the thing I did not foresee. The consequence I didn’t plan on. My kids sometimes see other people with tattoos!!!

I’ll give you one guess what they say.

“Mommy, why did that lady and you make a bad choice?” In front of the other mom at the local coffee shop/play area, who fortunately didn’t seem to notice my child was staring and pointing at her.

“Mommy, why did Miss B and you make a bad choice?” In front of the staff member at the YMCA’s drop-in childcare, who did notice and asked me what the question meant, at which point I mumbled something about not liking the tattoo on my back as I dragged my kids away.

Now that the weather is warming up and people are baring their skin, and their ink, more and more, this is becoming a bit of a problem.

Guess I’m not as clever as I thought.

Um, Awkward! Some Things You Should Just Never Say

Posted on May 10, 2013May 11, 2013 by Amy

The other day I saw my next door neighbor for the first time in over a year.

She was out in her yard, and I walked over with the girls to quickly say “Hello” and let them pet her dog. Neighbor Lady says, “It’s so good to see you!!!!!!!!!” Then she shifts her eyes rather pointedly toward my stomach, wiggles her eyebrows up and down, and excitedly says, “Are you?….” Of course the unspoken word was obviously “Pregnant?!”

I’m not.

Awkward.

So, here’s how it played out. I gave a terse shake of my head and said “No,” probably rather grumpily.

She quickly replied with, “Oh-I-was-just-asking-because-you-said-you-wanted-to-keep-going [with having more kids].”

Okay, that’s true. But… awkward.

Fortunately we were saved by my girls chattering about Neighbor Lady’s dog and how he looks like our dog who died (this might have been slightly awkward itself in a different moment, but as it was, it was quite refreshing), and about their hopes for future purchases of bicycles and stuffed hummingbirds and other random, innocent, oblivious things.

Then, Me: “Okay, gotta go!”

And as I walk away, the final parting shot, Her: “You look great!”

*sigh*

‘Kay. Here’s the deal. Yes, I do still have about 10 pounds I’d like to lose since having Baby Sis. Yes, she is 13 months old. Yes, my belly is squishier than it has ever been before.

I look okay. Not great. Okay.

But still. There are just some things you should never say. Right?

I’m someone who gains 50+ pounds when pregnant. I have tried to exercise and eat well during the three times that I have been growing another human within my body, but I gain insane amounts of weight even when I do this.

So. I have given in to just eating ice cream and becoming huge, knowing that I can lose it all after the fact.

It worked out pretty well the first two times.

This is me the day I found out I was pregnant with Miss:

About 8 months after Miss was born and shortly before I became pregnant with Lass:

Around 8 weeks pregnant with Lass:

After having Miss, I came close to regaining my pre baby body fairly quickly (of course it didn’t seem quick at the time, but now…).

After Lass I came a little less close, a little less quickly, but still got fairly near my goal.

Around 9 months after Lass was born:

About 9 weeks pregnant with Sis:

Now, 13 months after having Sis I am still nowhere near my goal weight, or even the weight I was when I got pregnant with her (which still wasn’t quite to my goal weight).

Crap, it’s a lot harder to get there this third time around! I know I can’t really complain, because I haven’t done the work to get there…

But it still feels pretty crappy to have my neighbor look at my (poofy but not that poofy) stomach and ask if I’m pregnant.

So the moral of the story? Never ask someone if she’s pregnant. Just don’t do it.

If it isn’t completely obvious, you are playing with fire.

Even if it is completely obvious, sometimes it’s not really, so you’re still playing with fire.

And truly, if someone is pregnant, and you can’t tell by looking, and she’s not talking about it, maybe she doesn’t want you to know. Just don’t do it.

I’ve hit the CrossFit workouts pretty hard the past two days. Nothing like a little motivation.

Thanks Neighbor Lady 🙂

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Motherhood and Miscellany

Category: Miscellany