We Went to the Zoo Today

It was 75* today, in march! I couldn't believe it.

We called up a couple of friends and headed down for a day in the sun with the monkeys.

Of course whether monkeys refers to the gorillas, orangutans, and five other species of primate currently housed at the zoo or the 7 children we had with us is kind of in the eye of the beholder.

We must of looked like a herd of some type traipsing through the park with 1 double stroller, two single, a wagon, 4 mommies, and seven children who rarely rode in said strollers or wagon. I think the reason that moms become so attached to their strollers is not because of the convenience of pushing children. Really it is all the children's stuff that ends up riding.

And man do children need a lot of stuff. In my bag (on my stroller) I always carry diapers, pull-ups, wipes, purell, desitin, lotion, chap stick, band aids, the "leash" **, snacks for Dot, snacks for Googie, a binky for each, a sippy cup for each, toys for Dot, a small blanket for Dot, and sometimes one for Googie if we're going to be gone during nap time. Then, because of the outing today, we added sack lunches, extra water bottles, sunscreen, summer hats, my camera, loveys for each, and a large blanket to nurse with.

A small note on the leash . . . I am not one of those horrible parents who chain their children to the stroller so that they don't have to pay attention to where said children wander too. When Googie was 12 months old she started running. Running away from me. At speeds so great that I would have to sprint to catch her, and if I took my eyes off her for a second (ie. blinked) she would be gone. I have had more than one experience of sheer terror because she was just gone. So I bought the leash, and it set the boundaries that at 12 months old she couldn't understand when I tried to explain them to her. We haven't actually used the thing for at least 6 months. But I always have it with me, and it works as a great threat. If she starts running away, not listening, or being otherwise two, all I have to do is pull it out and threaten to strap it to her wrist and she immediately repents of all her wrongs and stays right by my side.

Returning now back to the Zoo . . .

Googie loves the Zoo. When I asked her this morning if she wanted to go she said, " a yions, a bears, a z-bra, a hort-sie, a yion, a monkey, a yion, a hort-sie, a z-bra, a . . . Sissy, 'ou 'anna see da moon-ky, yeah???!!! ALRIGHT!!!!" When she was repeating all the animals she wanted to see she was stuttering a little bit. She was so excited she couldn't think straight. It was so cute. Watching her little mind be so excited she couldn't formulate a complete thought, you could see the wheels turning in her head as she absently repeated the animals over and over until she figured out what she was really trying to say. And she always asks her sister for her permission about everything. And sissy always says yeah, especially if Googie wants her too.

We went. We saw. I screamed "STOP!", "SLOW", "GOOGIE MARIE!!! I SAID STOP!!!!" She ran. Dot slept. All in all it was a good day.

The best part of the whole day was when we got back to the car. It was hot in there. I rolled down the windows, no children were burned. Then Googie said "Momma I da Yuck." Thinking the worst I immediately assumed she'd had an accident. I started into the "Googie, you know better, you go potty on the toilet" speech when she said "No momma, a back, I da yuck, I wet" I don't know if I cracked up laughing from the sheer relief that she didn't have an accident or because of how darn cute she is.

The whole ride home she kept telling me over and over again "Momma, I da yuck. Whaaaa HA HA HA!!!" She thinks she's so funny . . .

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Just Thought You'd Like to Know . . .

Dot is back to a fairly normal BM schedule. At least she's not crying. But that still doesn't slove my problem of what started the whole issue. We are on breastmilk and pear juice. That's it. Maybe in the next week or so I'll be brave enough to try something else, but until then . . .

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Googie is the most adorable human in the world. I had to cut her nails today and she hates hates it when I cut her nails (This may have something to do with my tendency to cut them too short, or possibly knick the skin next to her nail . . . the jury is still out. I try to be careful, it just happens sometimes. And there is such a fine line between just right and too short on her little finger nails . . . Not only that, but she hates sitting still for anything, so that just makes the whole process harder). I have to cut her nails. What choice do I have?

I strap her down with one arm and hold her hand out with the other, and with my third functioning arm . . . oh wait, I don't have a third . . . with the hand attached to the arm holding the struggling two year old, I cut her nails. I actually did a really good job today, I think I missed one corner, but we didn't have any cut to short, or knicked skin. I release Googie. She grabbed the clippers out of my hand and said "A momma's turn, A momma's turn." Then she jabbed the sharp end of the baby clippers right into my finger.

"Oww baby that hurts."
"Oh, sorry momma"

Then she grabs my next finger and the process is repeated until I've had enough and take the clippers away.

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It's Begun

Five months after Dot was born, and I still look four months pregnant. I've had enough. It's time to start losing the weight. Time to stop eating everything I want, and time to start getting up early to exercise. The year of the Diet has begun.
Well, actually I'm hoping it doesn't really take a year. I've set up my own weight loss program because I'm too cheap to pay someone to tell me how to eat. In the process of coming up with the perfect diet for me, I did plenty of research. I read a ton of articles online. Found guidelines for being able to breastfeed and lose weight. I've set my goals. I can do this! And guess what. In the first two days I lost 5lbs (well, the first weight was at night, because I figure I might as well start at my heaviest, and the second was first thing in the morning at my lightest. But it's still 5lbs, and it's motivating!)

I call my plan 100 days to skinny me. I have 30lbs to lose so I figure that's a measly 3lbs every ten days. Very do-able.

My diet plan is mostly just counting calories, along with following the recommended nutrition guide. I plan on using about 400cal at each of 3 meals, and 150cal at each of 3 snacks. Which leaves me with a total of about 1600 planned calories. Now I know that's less then the recommended calories to support breastfeeding, but you have to realize those are planned. I'm sure I will add at least another 2-300 somewhere in the day, between juice, "tasting", and sharing fruit snacks with Googie, I'm sure I'm getting plenty.

I'm also keeping a food journal which is helping me realize how much I really ate before. And yes, the first few days I have been hungry, a lot. But it's just my stomach asking for what it's used too. I have to condition my stomach to only want what it needs, and to not eat out of boredom. This is a life style change for me, not just a diet. But I'm hoping once I become accustomed to the right amount of food I won't have to keep a food journal, or count calories as much anymore.

The second part of my plan is a workout program. Now I have been going to the gym three days a week since Dot was 3 months old. But I've had to take the girls with me which equals distractions, which equals interruptions, and not a very good work out.

The new plan involves getting up at 6:15AM Tuesdays and Thursdays to have a child free aerobic work out before DH leaves for work. Saturdays are also aerobic, but I get to sleep in and not head to the gym until 8 or 9. Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays are AB days; where I do an ab work out tape in my living room, and Googie helps. Not to hard, or time consuming, which means I will stick to it.

And that's it. By May 15th (100 days) I should be back into my skinny jeans!

Wish me Luck!

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We've moved. We're here. I'm done.

I HATE Moving!!! And this time was worse than usual because my husband left two weeks before I did. Therefore I was without a husband for two weeks, and on "vacation" (if you can even call it that) at my mom's house. Not fun. Not fun at all. Googie missed her Daddy SO MUCH!! She would cry until she could talk to him on the phone and then never wanted to hang up. It's really hard to be on vacation for that long, at someone elses house, with out a routine. It was hard.

I thought it would all be remedied once we got here. That was not the case. I expected that after almost a week of being here, my lovely husband would have the house unpacked. He actually did a pretty good job, all the boxes were gone. I guess my expectations were a little high, especially where the kitchen was concerned. I suppose men just don't look at the kitchen the same way women do. I didn't have to unpack so much as I had to organize the house when we arrived. And now finally, a week later I can officially say that it is done!

Now we can get back to our regular routines . . . until they're upset again in 8 months when we move into our first house. That's one move that I'm actually very excited, and probably overly willing, to do!

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The Difference an Hour Makes

Daddy's been gone now for three days. Man do I miss him. Googie misses him too. You can tell because she's always acting attention deprived. See the usual order of things goes something like this:

• 9:00 AM -- Wake up, have some breakfast
• 11:00 AM -- Lunch/Snack
• 12:00 PM -- Googie naps, Mommy showers
• 2:00 PM -- Errands/Snack
• 4:30 PM -- Play time (park, pool, friends . . .)
• 6:00 PM -- Daddy gets home
• 7:00 PM -- MOM GETS A BREAK! Daddy wrestles/plays
• 8:30 PM -- Googies bed time
• 9:00 PM -- Clean up the disaster area the house has been transformed to over the course of a single day
• 10:30 PM -- Bed time

We are struggling right now, because I'm missing my nobody-touch-me-shut-myself-in-the-bedroom break, and Googie is missing out on her one-on-one-pay-complete-attention-to-me time with her Daddy.

So by 7:00 PM (or as of today, 6:00 PM) the past three days, we're both at the end of our ropes. That's why I'm writing/reading blogs right now, and she's watching a movie. Its been three days. Three Days! I don't know how you single parents do it. I'm so glad I have a husband who is a good Daddy and understands that Mommys need 'coffee' breaks too.

Just give me an hour or so to myself, without having to worry about anything remotely related to toddlers (or cleaning), AND NOBODY TOUCHING ME, and my 'patience reservoir' is refilled. Its amazing what an hour will do for you.

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Why am I nervous? There's no need to be nervous!

Why??? Why do I do this to myself. I'm not due until the first of September. That's four and a half weeks away (Believe me, I know, I'm counting!). Just because I'm having contractions doesn't mean I'm having a baby anytime soon. I know that! Besides, I'm not quite full term yet, so if I did have the baby their could be complications. So why, why do I get excited every single time?

Every single time, I think 'is this the one? Is this the time that real labor is actually going to start?' And every single time I'm disappointed, in a grateful sort of way, when it's not. I don't want to have a baby with complications. I just want a healthy baby. But on the other hand, the sooner that healthy baby can come the better. I am so sick of being pregnant.

The weird thing is, I know they are braxton-hicks contractions (they're not regular in the slightest) but they hurt. And from everything anybody else has told me bracton-hicks aren't supposed to hurt, they're just supposed to tighten. Well these hurt. They hurt a lot. They hurt like really bad menstral cramps. They hurt like I just did 400 sit-ups. I have to remember to breathe during them. But then they pass. I have one or two in a row, and then none for 2-3 hours, sometimes longer.

I called my doctor just to be sure nothing weird was going on. And it's not. If they get to the point that I'm doubled over during a contraction lasting longer than a minute, then I'm supposed to call them back. Otherwise, "sorry lady, you got yourself pregnant, now just deal with it!" (My doctor's office didn't really say that, but that's how you feel sometimes when your ready to be done being pregnant, and there's nothing they can do to relieve your discomfort.)

They are the most annoying, frustrating contractions. Because they're not real. Nothing good is going to come from them, no baby tonight, but hey, I'll have a side of pain with my dinner.

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Living Milk Free . . .

For the week we get to experience what it's like to have a lactose intolerant child. Googie got some virus in her intestines that has reacted poorly with her body. She's had diareah for the past 2 weeks. No other symptoms, and not involuntary either. Just constant loose stools. So I took her into the doctor and they expect that this virus has temporarily made her lactose intolerant. So for the next week she can't have any milk or milk products, and if that remedies the situation, at the end of the week she can go back to her usual diet of cheese, yogurt, milk, and the occasional slice of bread. If it doesn't help then we have to try other things, and wonder if she has developed an allergy or intollerance of some other sort. Fun, Fun, Fun.

The good news is she doesn't seem to mind soy milk.

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This and That

I've thought about changing my name on here. Trivial Mom, doesn't really make sense as my husband so kindly pointed out. What I meant was nothing-I-do-makes-much-of-a-difference mom, but it doesn't really work. So I'm on the hunt for a new nickname. Did you know it's hard to come up with one yourself? I've never really had a nickname growing up, and since I am extremely paranoid that if I give you my first name you might somehow figure out my last, and become middle-aged-old-men-stalking-me-outside-my-window, instead of the wonderfully-beautiful-skinny-put-together-inspired-writer-mommy's that you all are. Of course that's probably giving me too much credit. Who would want to stalk me anyways? Kind of like when you sit down at a table in the middle of a conversation and the conversation happens to die at the same point. I always assume it's cause I sat down, but again, to think that no one has anything better to talk about than me is giving myself way too much credit. So a nickname. I'm searching, and when I find one you'll all be the first to know.

I'm also working on a new design for the web page. All pink was kind of bugging me. And I think it's because I chose pink, and not another neutral color, that soon to be number two (and I'm going to have to come up with a nickname for her too!) happens to be a girl, and not the other preferred sex, you know the one that we would have preferred with both, but have yet to get. So do you like the new page? I'm still working out all the kinks.

And now I'm just stalling. I need to pick up all the toys that were scattered around my living room this morning. The dreaded laundry is piling over. The kitchen floor is in desperate need of mopping (I mean it is getting so bad I almost don't want to eat off the counters, not that the floor has any relation to the counter, or that my counters aren't clean, just the floor is that disgusting). Not that any of you would know about putting off chores by blogging, or reading all the other interesting blogs, or taking an extra long shower, or finding it too nice and sunny outside . . . No, no, not you, not ever, never would you think about putting off chores. Your houses are all cleaned first thing in the morning, and they don't get dirty throughout the day. Obviously they must be. Because you're here, talking to me, and houses are always clean before we blog. Right, only in my husbands dreams do wives of that caliber exist. (Note to self. Write post about how sweet hubby is, so that every will see you do love him no matter what else you say while your stalling . . . after the house is clean. . . after. . .)

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The Calm

You know that feeling when the kids are too quiet? Your glad that they're playing by themselves, and you don't want to interrupt the peace and quiet your enjoying. But you know when you go check on them there is going to be a huge mess, and your going to have to clean it up.

Well that's how I've been feeling the last couple of days. But not because she's being too quiet, she's just being too good. We haven't had hardly any tantrums, no problems going to bed, no problems at the stores, I mean it's just too good. It's like the calm before the storm, and she's just waiting until I get the least bit complacent and then she'll unlesh the fury.

I'm scared. Two 2 hour naps a day, 12 hours of sleep at night, picking up her toys when I ask, it just can't last. And I just know she'll be making up for lost time soon. We're just waiting for the storm to begin.

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Finally, I understand

As I was doing the third load of dishes, the fourth load of laundry, and making dinner on Friday, I had an epiphany. It finally made sense in my head what all of the older wiser moms had been telling me.

See my house is always a mess. There are always dishes in the sink and there is always laundry to do. I know what your thinking "so what, it's the same way at my house." But you see this is different. Not only are there dishes in the sink they're all over the counter too. I only do dishes every second or third day. And with the laundry, same sort of thing. You'd think I was still in high school by the look of my clothes-for-carpet room. I only do laundry when I run out of underwear -- about every other week. And by the time it comes around that I have to do both, or be condemned to live at the store because I can't stand my house, it's overwhelming.

So now I have three basic rules that I follow:

1. Load the dishes as they get dirty -- don't wait until the sink is overflowing and taking up most of the counter space, you have guests coming over, or don't have any dishes left to eat off of.

2. When the laundry basket is full, do a load -- don't put it off until all of your shirts have stains so bad no one will believe they happened this morning and your down to your ratty I've-worn-these-since-high school underwear.

3. When there is a spill, clean it up, right away -- seriously, I know it's hard to believe but stains come out of the carpet better, and off the bottom of the fridge easier if you just take care of it when it happens.

I know most of you probably figured it out already, but for me, this has been a long time coming. And I know, I can't believe I lived in that filthy of a house either. But hey at least I figured it out.

So now when you call to come visit, I won't make up an excuse -- like googie is sleeping give her two hours to wake up -- and rush around the house like a mad women hiding all the messes. Just pop in for a visit and the only mess you'll find are the toys scattered around the house. By the way, any suggestions for keeping that under control?

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Rain in June

Welcome to the Northwest.
I don't know how much longer I can take the rain. Okay, given it's been a really wet winter, but man. I swear it hasn't stopped raining since September. We had one nice week -- by nice week I mean it was partly cloudy, with sun breaks and around 70 degrees -- two weeks ago, and we got all excited for summer. I mean we even braved the non-heated pool (which is a whole other issue, who doesn't heat a pool???) Since then . . . well it's been drizzling every single day, and pouring at least once a day. I hate the rain. I think we might have to move.

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