Today I finally drug my butt out to do some birthday shopping. I received a few gift certificates for the big two four, but I refused to go out and try on anything. I hate shopping anyway, add on that I have no idea what size to even try on, well, I was just avoiding the whole fiasco. But today I packed up the baby and headed down to the Plaza to spend mulah at the Gap and Victoria’s Secret. A conversation came up this weekend at my friend’s bachelorette party about bra sizes and when I revealed that I was a 36-C, I was told that I may, in fact, be a complete idiot. Apparently there was no way I was a C cup. So today I went to get fitted for a new bra, and I have to say, I am a complete idiot. But I’m a complete idiot with double D sized boobs!
My goodness girl, you are growing up way too fast. No you cannot have the car keys and you are not dating until you are 43. Or until I am dead, whichever comes first.
This month you have learned of the joy that is your feet. You wake yourself up from naps just to talk to your feet. Your hands are still okay, but your feet, well, they are magical. You can be screaming bloody murder, but when you see your feet, you are all smiles. I am no longer buying you any more toys. Not until you like them more than your own body parts.
This was a trying month for both of us. It was the month of the nursing strike, the cold that had all that mucus and the attempted photo session. Even though you were very challenging at times, I found myself, if it’s possible, loving you even more. Because even though it was the month of all of those bad things, it was also the month of the hysterical laugh, and how can you not adore a baby with a hysterical laugh.
Your laugh can sometimes remind me of Butt Head from Bevis and Butt Head. It starts out as a slow “huh, huh huh, huh” and then slowly progresses into a high pitched squeal. You’ve also perfected your Molly impression, panting with your tounge hanging out of your mouth. This past weekend you made Aunt Mara’s day when instead of doing the requisite amount of screaming, you showed her all of your laughs and pants, finally proving that you like her even though she refers to herself in the third person.
That’s what I love the most (if I can even pick) about you, Lucy. Even when someone is hungover or sick or just in a plain old bad mood, you can turn their day around. All you have to do is break out into your toothless grin and a person cannot help but smile back. That is a great gift, sweetie. And we may have to utilize that around Christmas time. Remember, Grandma’s love smiling babies!
Here it is. The awful truth. Even if you are fairly good while pregnant, eating heathy and doing exercise (per doctors orders), you will still gain a shit-ton of weight. The first and half of the second trimester of my pregnancy, the doctors freaked out a bit because I wasn’t gaining enough weight, but by the third trimester I was right on track…and then some. I gained about 40 lbs total with Lucy, and I assumed because I was fairly active it would come off pretty fast. I also knew that if I nursed instead of formula feeding that the weight would come off even faster. That was true. Sort of.
The first 25 lbs came off without me even trying. And as a woman, that time is freaking awsome. Shit, I lost 5 lbs in the last two days. I am fabulous! And then it just stops. And four months later you’ll find yourself still in your maternity jeans wondering if you’ll ever be able to wear normal pants again. And you’ll go to a bachelorette party with a nametag that says, “maternity pants MILF.” Somewhat flattering, but mostly just very sad.
So today I decided that I am going to stop being a lump and actually try to lost these last 10 (ish) lbs. Now, how I am going to do that with a four-month-old? I have no idea, but today I tried to do Yoga and Bellydancing, as those were the two things that got me in fantastic shape right before I got pregnant. But it’s a bit different doing it in a class with an instructor than doing it while watching the exercise network on your TV. I think I may have to find another method. Or else greatly enlarge the size of my living room and remove all furniture and plastic baby toys. It’s hard to find that “special place” in meditation when you knock into your child’s exersaucer, causing the stupid light up thing to go “Mooo, cow, vaca” and then play Old MacDonald.
Double Delightful
/6 Comments/in Blond /by MeganToday I finally drug my butt out to do some birthday shopping. I received a few gift certificates for the big two four, but I refused to go out and try on anything. I hate shopping anyway, add on that I have no idea what size to even try on, well, I was just avoiding the whole fiasco. But today I packed up the baby and headed down to the Plaza to spend mulah at the Gap and Victoria’s Secret. A conversation came up this weekend at my friend’s bachelorette party about bra sizes and when I revealed that I was a 36-C, I was told that I may, in fact, be a complete idiot. Apparently there was no way I was a C cup. So today I went to get fitted for a new bra, and I have to say, I am a complete idiot. But I’m a complete idiot with double D sized boobs!
Betcha really wanted to know that, didn’t you.
4 Months
/1 Comment/in Lucy /by MeganDear Lucy,
My goodness girl, you are growing up way too fast. No you cannot have the car keys and you are not dating until you are 43. Or until I am dead, whichever comes first.
This month you have learned of the joy that is your feet. You wake yourself up from naps just to talk to your feet. Your hands are still okay, but your feet, well, they are magical. You can be screaming bloody murder, but when you see your feet, you are all smiles. I am no longer buying you any more toys. Not until you like them more than your own body parts.
This was a trying month for both of us. It was the month of the nursing strike, the cold that had all that mucus and the attempted photo session. Even though you were very challenging at times, I found myself, if it’s possible, loving you even more. Because even though it was the month of all of those bad things, it was also the month of the hysterical laugh, and how can you not adore a baby with a hysterical laugh.
Your laugh can sometimes remind me of Butt Head from Bevis and Butt Head. It starts out as a slow “huh, huh huh, huh” and then slowly progresses into a high pitched squeal. You’ve also perfected your Molly impression, panting with your tounge hanging out of your mouth. This past weekend you made Aunt Mara’s day when instead of doing the requisite amount of screaming, you showed her all of your laughs and pants, finally proving that you like her even though she refers to herself in the third person.
That’s what I love the most (if I can even pick) about you, Lucy. Even when someone is hungover or sick or just in a plain old bad mood, you can turn their day around. All you have to do is break out into your toothless grin and a person cannot help but smile back. That is a great gift, sweetie. And we may have to utilize that around Christmas time. Remember, Grandma’s love smiling babies!
Love,
Mama
Baby Fat
/1 Comment/in Grumples /by MeganHere it is. The awful truth. Even if you are fairly good while pregnant, eating heathy and doing exercise (per doctors orders), you will still gain a shit-ton of weight. The first and half of the second trimester of my pregnancy, the doctors freaked out a bit because I wasn’t gaining enough weight, but by the third trimester I was right on track…and then some. I gained about 40 lbs total with Lucy, and I assumed because I was fairly active it would come off pretty fast. I also knew that if I nursed instead of formula feeding that the weight would come off even faster. That was true. Sort of.
The first 25 lbs came off without me even trying. And as a woman, that time is freaking awsome. Shit, I lost 5 lbs in the last two days. I am fabulous! And then it just stops. And four months later you’ll find yourself still in your maternity jeans wondering if you’ll ever be able to wear normal pants again. And you’ll go to a bachelorette party with a nametag that says, “maternity pants MILF.” Somewhat flattering, but mostly just very sad.
So today I decided that I am going to stop being a lump and actually try to lost these last 10 (ish) lbs. Now, how I am going to do that with a four-month-old? I have no idea, but today I tried to do Yoga and Bellydancing, as those were the two things that got me in fantastic shape right before I got pregnant. But it’s a bit different doing it in a class with an instructor than doing it while watching the exercise network on your TV. I think I may have to find another method. Or else greatly enlarge the size of my living room and remove all furniture and plastic baby toys. It’s hard to find that “special place” in meditation when you knock into your child’s exersaucer, causing the stupid light up thing to go “Mooo, cow, vaca” and then play Old MacDonald.