Sunday, January 18, 2015

The stay at home mom yoga pant sitch explained.



There she is... you judge her in her black yoga pants.  Life of luxury, really.  The stay at home mom.  I get it.  There are the ones who have the personal trainer, the nanny, the house cleaner, the lunches, the ones who go to the bathroom all alone.  I think they are probably few and far between, so the rest of us fall somewhere between there.  Recently I had a friend judge the SAHM crew when she, herself was at lunch mid-day.

1.  The ultimate--she worked out that morning and hasn't yet had time to shower and is therefore still in workout gear.  She is also conserving laundry so will just wear the same thing until that shower happens.

2.  The hopeful-she HOPES to workout and so is putting on her workout gear in hopes she will be motivated or have 5 minutes.  Granted, she may use those 5 minutes to poop.

3.  The work out clothes are made of elastic/spandex... which gives you extra time to pull up your pants really quickly when all of a sudden the rest of the house gets quiet or you hear a big crash and your 2 year old say, "uh-oh."  Who has time for buttons?

4.  Nothing fits after having these babies.  Black is slimming.  Black hides grubby finger prints.  Black spandex is mostly wipeable--even spit up.

5.  There hasn't been time to shower in the last few days so she appears to have sweaty work out hair, but realistically, it's just grease.  Go with it.  She deserves that starbucks drink.

6.  She is meeting her friends for lunch, because if she doesn't have a normal conversation soon she may forget that she actually knows how to talk, or hear about the world, or for someone else to know she exists.  So yes, it's a nice place to meet her friends, it may be quiet, she may be wearing yoga pants and jewelry because, well, this is as fancy as she is going to get for the next 6 months--might as well show off that stuff that you used to wear on all those nights out.  Bonus--no small child with you to casually yank on your earring and say "EAAWWING!"  Or pull on, and break, that necklace.

7.  Her mind is tired.  She actually forgot that she owns clothes are not made of elastic.  Someone called last minute and she had to get out of the house so she said, "yep, this looks decent enough--let me put on some jewelry in hopes that I'm both noticed and go unnoticed."

So there you have it.  The real life of the SAHM.  Don't judge--too much.  She appreciates you for what you do, so lets not judge her for what she does... or doesn't do... like laundry.  or wearing real pants.  SUCKAS

Monday, January 5, 2015

Reeses Spread

So first note, that I got a box from influenster for FREEE that contained a full sized jar of Reese's spread.  Now I love free things.  I especially love free things that are chocolatey and peanut buttery.  THis basically tastes like a mix of nutella and PB... so kind of like a spreadable fudge.  My kids are currently digging it on some cut up bananas and a waffle.

Have you signed up? also receved a couple of vox boxes all with awesome stuff.  The last time was VS sports bra and yoga pants!

Saturday, November 22, 2014

Pitch Perfect.

Confession.  Not a confession.

I love a group dance.  And singing.  And desire to do both in my current life (hello, community theatre... except I'm like against conformity and am a total hermit--except running with people.  I really like that.)

But I just watched this movie and it is my inspiration.  It brings meaning to my life.  It's the inspiration.

How did I not know?

Monday, November 17, 2014

Meal Plan Monday or something

real life.
Hello internets.  I'm occasionally emerging from the fog that is being a mom to three small boys and never using a computer and being inept at typing more than instagram posts via my phone.

I like that I can re-look at things I wrote about our lives and family as the small amount of memory I have is now used learning things like parts of planes, all the new names for dinosaurs and making sure everyone is semi clean.  Noted--when changing tiny baby diaper in the night I was so annoyed that I picked up a messed up one that Pampers had put the tabs on backwards.  SO ANNOYING.  I beat the system by just twisting them so it was ok.  When he woke up later he was soaked.  Yah, sorry Pampers for the damning of you.  I had the diaper wrong side out.  Le sigh.

SO  I may have written about how we have been meal planning for what like 2 years now.  We were food wasters.  We would go to the grocery and buy things and then not have any idea what we were going to make and then eat out.  Waste.

I'm thinking that I can make myself get on the internet tubes at least once a week and figure out what the hell we are going to eat.  SO this week it is as follows.  I write it on all the chalk board wall in our kitchen because my useless brain needs constant reminders of what I'm doing when it comes 4:30 that does not involve "Pour a glass of wine."  Somehow that one sticks in my mind.   No notes required.  Also, we never waste wine.  In case anyone was wondering.  Dr. Ben often tells me when I consider not finishing my glass, "waste not.  want not.  That's what Jesus said."  Now I know that Jesus did not literally say this because it isn't written in red and that seminary degree and all.  Other points of note--I remember almost nothing from seminary.  You can call me Master anyway.

Sunday--Bang bang chicken pasta
Monday--Thai-Mex tacos with easy jasmine rice
Tuesday--Crockpot turkey, blackbean and zucchini chili
Wednesday--Coconut curry with easy jasmine rice (from Monday)
Thursday--Baked potatoes topped with chili from Tuesday
Friday--Thai peanut salad (made up)

Goals--eat what we buy. eat healthfully. have lunch leftovers. try new things. reuse ingredients.  make one crockpot meal (usually on tuesdays because G has gymnastics and it's a crazy day.)  make one meat free meal.

Staples--we buy meat, typically in bulk, divide into portions, vac seal and freeze.  we buy rice and pasta's in bulk also.  we keep staple canned goods--black beans, fire roasted tomatoes etc. (okay, back to using caps because my baby let me lay him down... for now)

The bangbang we probably would not make again.  If we do... I'd call it She Bangs Pasta and make up a new recipe.

The Thai-Mex tacos were a win.

We've made the chili before and the rest of the items on the list.  I love the Coco curry.  I hate coconut.  This is good.  We generally make versions of what the recipes are based on what we have--like for that one I don't have shrimp paste or ketchup (vomit) so I use most of the stuff and then use fire roasted tomatoes.  Chicken breast instead of thighs.  sweet potatoes.  and I buy the ginger paste in the fresh section.  easier.  Anyway, you get the gist.  Use what you have and what your family likes.

Holding baby again.  Gosh they are so needy.

Anyway.  how is THAT for a non baby related
real life post?

Sunday, November 16, 2014

Mey Mey 18-19 months

OH mey mey.  How behind am I on your life?  I just love every inch of you.  I love how you love to dance and it involves a LOT of head movement.  I love how you run.  Belly out and one arm swinging.  You love your bubba.  you love your daddy.  You semi love maggie.  You LOVE your baby... and his eyes.  You like to point at (poke out) his eyes.  You say things 80% right.  You use a lot of inflection.  When I ask if you can say "griffin" you respond with "bubba."  You say "ollie."  You say "mummies" instead of gummies.  You ask for gummies everyday after your nap.  You are a DREAM to put to sleep.  You give good kisses.  They are slobbery and wet and awesome.  You love the bath.  You love your "bobby."  Which is how you say paci.  We now all call paci's "bobby's."  I love you in jeans.  You have the sweetest laugh.  The sweetest little voice.  You announce before you bite someone.  "I BITE."  Terrible.  Damn, you're cute.  You understand 99.9% more than what you choose to say.  You love to say, "Mama.  NO.  No.  Mine."  So I can say "yes.  yes.  mine."  You love shoes.  You call them "oosh."  I shouldn't repeat that back, but I do.  Because you are my baby.  Ok, the middle.  You are a baby and I love you.  A lot.  You have now started saying "night night, baby" when you are ready for bed because that is what I say to you.  You have decided your little bathroom stool can get you anywhere.  You throw fits.  You would prefer to be carried.  You are just so stinkin cute you get away with a lot because of that smile.  I wish I had more secluded time with you.  You are my very favorite age right now.  Don't ever change.










I loove my stinky, messy, meyer-boo.

Tuesday, September 30, 2014

And the trumpets they go.

duh nuh nununa

No reason for that title other than that song is on repeat in my head.

C sections.  Something I thought I'd never have as the last baby basically fell out pain free.  So I knew nothing.  NOTHING.

Things you need to know...

1.  gas.  Painful.  no thank you.
2.  Before the gas they starve you... which is ok if you have weird reactions to your pain meds so you don't want to eat anyway... and YOU CAN"T HAVE THE EFFING GOOD DRUGS.  Um, what happened here?  How did this happen in the last 18 months?  Norco, I miss the good times we had.  You made me feel warm and happy.
3.  I had MAJOR night sweats post C sectioning.  Ew.  Like wet sheets.
4.  Lunch lady legs.  Massive swelling huge ass ankles that required compression socks.
5.  Pooping post baby is still a biatch.  There.  I said it.
6.  Your unders hit right at the incision.  Did I mention you have an incision?  No thank you.  Like they cut a person out of you.  And you FEEL IT.  ANd the spinal?  Well, that super hurts.  And if you have some weird reaction to that you almost die because it drops your heart rate too low.

I may just have six.  I'm sure I could think of something else to complain about... oh like not being able to pick up your kids.  Or the fact that you have an extra hole in your body.  Or that it gives you a FUPA.  This retreats?  Yes?  I'll run again?  My insides won't fall out?

Basically, we better re-get cable so that we don't find ourselves in this predicament again.  Oh, that and marathon training is OUT.

Wednesday, September 17, 2014

Oliver Graham Black

Oh Oliver.  You came into our lives, the very first minute I knew about you, as a complete surprise and you have continued to keep us on our toes ever since.  Placenta Previa was a thought at 20 weeks.  At 28 weeks I had my first scare.  Then more and more.  Bed rest.  Hospital stays.  Followed by more bed rest.  Thankful for friends and family who have saved us and cared for our babies.  I didn't want to have a C section, but apparently, that's what has to happen in these cases.  So I was scheduled for September 29.  It seemed SO SOON.  Your due date was October 27.  I was going to lobby for at least one more week of keeping you inside.  36 weeks was just too early.

And then it happened.  The scariest night of my life.  Ambulance rides.  Fear.  Hoping Griffin didn't wake up to the ambulance and fire truck and mommy being carried out on a stretcher.  A scary ride.  would you be ok?  Would I be ok?  would they EVER FIND MY FREAKIN VEINS?  Seriously, they stuck me 8 times before being able to do that.  My dr came and said there was no reason to chance prolonging anything.  It wasn't safe for me.  It wasn't safe for you.  Today was the day.  SO I waited and waited.  I was prepped for the C section.  My heart rate dropped to almost nothing.  They brought me back and within minutes I heard your tiny tiny baby kitten cry.  This is not to say that it wasn't loud, because it was.  I cried tears of joy and thanksgiving because you were crying.  Because I knew you were there and alive.  (now give me my damn baby.)  And they couldn't.  You peed all over the nurses three times.  (good one, bud.)  I kissed your sweet face.  I marveled at how you looked like your brothers. I marveled at how you were the tiniest piece of perfection I had ever seen.  Then you were whisked away.  I was left to sit and listen to Dr's talk about their personal lives and sit quietly and wonder about you.  To long for you.  To be in fear for you.

I was sent off to recovery alone.  Itchy and alone.  So itchy.  Thanks pain meds.  Kidding, I wouldn't have made it without you.  Kiss kiss.

Time frames get a little jumbled here... I saw you in the NICU after I had been checked into my room.  After I pumped?  Maybe?  I'm not sure.  They let me hold you for one second.

On September 10, 2014 you were born at 33 weeks and 4 days.  You weighed 4 lbs and 7 oz when you were born.  You were 17 and 3/4 inches.  You were screaming at 10:38 am.

I just wanted you.  I want you.  I want to hold you when I want and kiss you when I want and love on you when I want.  You have been doing great.  You are off of oxygen.  You are off the bili lights.  You are now off of the IV.  We have gotten to nurse 4x.  you are learning with a bottle.  I pump like mad.  (because lets be real... milk production is all I have going for me.)  I want you home.  I get to hold you at noon and 3 and 9.

You, my baby, are a tiny miracle who continually keeps us on our toes.  You are a perfect blend of your brothers.  You have hair.  Brown and maybe curly?  It's also receding.  It's a great look on your tiny head.  You make the best faces.  I go before our touch times to the NICU and watch you sleep every day.  I don't mind hearing you cry.  It's the cutest sound.  You love to hold hands.  It immediately calms you.  During our skin to skin you snuggle me so contently.  I think you'd stay there for hours, but the nurses take you away at some point and I have to stand up at some point.

Mama's have a need for their babies.  This mama has a need for her baby.  I have to get a room ready.  I have clothes waiting on you to come home.  You have brothers who cannot wait to see you.  One who desperately wants to hold you and see you... the other one just pats on my belly and says, "Baby?"  (no meyer, now I'm just fat.)  But this post isn't about me, really.  That's for another time.

You are so sweet.  You have the chin dimple that seals you to our family.  You complete us.

Oliver Graham.  Ollie G.  The OG.  Biggie Smalls.  We love you with all we have to love.  We hoped for a tiny  miracle and you, my baby, are making it happen.  More pictures to come.  Be prepared.  We think you're kind of amazing.