Housewife Extraordinaire

The transformation is nearly complete.


I got myself a new ride. It's spacious. I can fit my kid, my dog, the stroller, various diaper bags, and like 80 people in it. Plus, it's got a little video camera thing on the back, which helps me aim better for those little random mutt-dogs that run wild in our subdivision. It's lovely. Paul says we lost a lot of cool points by getting this... but I say that we gained a whole hell of a lot of AWESOME points because of it, so it doesn't matter. And I am the woman, so I am right.

Not only that, but because you guys are awful at keeping me accountable about my weight (remember this?), I've gone and joined a weight-watchers group. I really just need help making better choices when I eat. It's so easy to just graze during the day, and usually whatever is easiest is the most unhealthy. So... now I will have some face-to-face accountability, and an irritating way to figure out how much of what I should eat. The whole process works on a point system, with everything having it's own worth in points. You get a personal daily allowance of points based on your height, weight, gender, so on and so forth. But... it's pretty awesome because I'm nursing and that gives me a buttload of extra points. I actually get more than Paul is allowed... (Paul isn't doing this... he will just be eating healthy with me, but we figured we would figure out how many points he would be allowed if he tagged along... and ha! less than me).

I will try and give updates on how things are going on here, not that anyone would really care. I am not ashamed to yell my weight out on the megaphone that is the internet, because, hey, I had a baby, and if I am allowed to be overweight at any point in my life, it's the here and now. So bring on the donuts!! I mean... no... the apples. Bring on the apples.

So, last night, I weighed in at 179.6. I am not expecting anything spectactular until I get used to eating better. They said a healthy loss for me, because I am nursing, would be one pound a week... So here it goes.

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And, a video. THIS ONE'S FOR YOU, MOM!!

To be a child again...

It was a good weekend. I missed my boy, but it was nice to just hang and watch girlie movies and not worry about cooking for two and so on and so forth. Yesterday, we took a break from our laziness and headed up to the park. I did not, however, take Violet with me. I was planning on taking Alex to the swings, and I didn't want to have to worry about my dog running and jumping in the lake that is currently a very thick green color. Normally, whenever Violet senses that we are leaving, she will head straight to her box and lay down. But yesterday, it was like she knew I was leaving her home while Alex and I went to THE FUNNEST PLACE ON EARTH. She was going downstairs, two steps at a time, stopping and looking back with a forlorn look in her eyes. I finally herded her all the way to her box, and as I was locking it up, she started barking. It's like she was trying to convince me that whatever grudge I was obviously holding was not worth leaving her. And I was all, You remember that one time you went to the bathroom on my floor five times in one night?!?! THIS IS FOR THAT. Then I locked her up and kicked the kennel a few times, laughing and rubbing my hands together.

But we did eventually make it to the swings (yay! hubby just got home!). Alex was incredibly at ease. She absolutely loved them. Although she did try to lift herself out of the swing on more than one occasion, and I am pretty sure that she would have succeeded had I not foiled her attempts. Strong girl.

i HATE cooties.

We are having a girl's weekend. I kicked Paul out (or... he went up north with some buddies to go to a football game, golf, and drink beer... poor thing). And now, I am relaxing (or... trying to figure out how I can manage to take a shower with the door closed today or enjoy a cup of coffee that is at the very least lukewarm). I've already enjoyed a breakfast of champions (leftover chicken parmesan from Olive Garden), and I am planning on hitting up a Blockbuster store sometime later today to acquire a ridiculously girlie movie that would never be allowed in the house when the testosterone is home. And I plan to grab a pizza from my buddy Papa John for dinner. Not to bad.

In other news, I am about to make the big plunge into 'soccer mom' territory. On Monday, if all goes according to plan, Paul and I could be driving around in a..... MiNiVaN. Awesome. I took a spin in it last night, and I kept laughing to myself because, as I told the salesman, I would have never thought that I would be driving a minivan before the age of 25. But I am totally cool with it. I am excited to have room to put things without having to pile it in the backseat and hope I don't take a turn to quickly and send it all onto Alex's lap. And this way, on our trips to Michigan, we can bring everything we need for the kid AND the dog and still have room to stretch out in. The one we are looking at has a dvd thing in the back, which does no good for me because I have a tendancy to spontaneously vomit when I attempt to do anything in the car aside from staring straight ahead with my hands on my lap, but can you say BABY EINSTIEN?? Lovely.
We were actually looking at two different vans, and we drove both of them last night. The first one, however, was kind of a bust. First, the car was dead when we went to turn it on. Then, one of the doors refused to open. And finally, the car started smoking not a mile from the dealership. Made the decision easy.

So, long story short, you should all come to St. Louis because now we could all ride in one car.

Big Steps.

Tonight was a big night. I got the ok from baby doc earlier today to go ahead and supplement a little formula at night. Alex has gone back to not sleeping through the night, and seemed to be very irritable after her last meal, which was not normal. So, with hesitant (and kind of undecided, to be honest) hands, I prepared a bottle for her after her last meal. I poured some water in, dumped some powder on top of it, and... there it was! Milk! It seems so unreal that the milk I have to work so hard to make (I am barely getting 2 ounces when I pump now...boo) just APPEARS so quickly. Honestly. Formula is a magical thing.

As wonderful as it seemed in the bottle, I wasn't sure if it was going to be serving its purpose or not. Alex flat out refuses to eat any food that's been mixed with formula instead of mama's homegrown recipe, so I didn't have too high of hopes. I had Paul give it to her so she didn't see the milk trucks staring her in the face and wonder why she wasn't getting the real stuff. I went upstairs, shaking my head, bracing myself for another long night. But... what's that sound? No, not Violet trying to bury her bone in her plastic kennel... That other sound. That... silence. SHE DRANK... NAY, CHUGGED... THE WHOLE BOTTLE. It was beautiful. I'm - so - proud!

So, we'll see how we go tonight. I could be eating my words. Her stomach could reject the formula, making for a much longer, and messier, night than normal. But I have high hopes.

Even if this works, she will still be nursing for the rest of her feedings. I am still feeding her every two hours (the doc asked me if she was eating every five hours. FIVE. What a luxury to be able to be out in public for 5 hours in a row without having to whip a boob out). But doc said that that's fine. Worse for me, but fine for her, as long as she is getting enough. So, nursing it is, with a little help at night. Works for me.

She's just getting so big so quickly, I am afraid what extra milk will do. Do I see a growth spurt on the horizon? Perhaps.

Look at those ears...

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Violet is warming up to Alex now, which is really cute. Well, warming up is perhaps too strong of a phrase. She no longer avoids her at all costs. And I got it on camera. I am sure Violet will deny the fact that she is obviously infatuated with this little person at all costs... but we know the truth.

...

Well, since I forgot to hit 'publish post' last night, I guess I could update you on how our night was...

SHE SLEPT THE WHOLE NIGHT.

Didn't get up once. Barely moved.

So happy. :)

Dear Mr. Ike, Are you lost?

Please get out of my backyard.



And stop trying to infiltrate my laundry room with your little leaks of water and your nightcrawler spies.

Yours truly,

Laura.