Weigh-In October

I had gotten down to 154lbs, 155 consistently. I signed up to take part in a local online Biggest Loser challenge in a local playgroup, and I was really psyched about possibly winning, or at least losing a ton of weight in time for Christmas. After all, I really don't have much further to go!

Well this weekend, Husband-pants and I got to go out on our own, as husband and wife, not as parents. We dropped the kidlet off with my mom and headed to Chili's where I treated myself to 2 Coca-Colas (an absolute no-no normally) a half serving of Cajun Chicken Pasta (a whopping 1500 calories and 78 grams of fat) and too many chips & salsa. *sigh* I justified all of this because I have been the picture of willpower for weeks, eating well and refraining from anything high in calories or generally unhealthy. Everyone deserves a splurge every once in a while- right?

Well then today we were out and about, we went hiking around a local tourist attraction. It was nice and we worked up an appetite... we were trying to figure out where to eat as the baby fell asleep. We debated on going to the grocery store and heading home to eat lunch and spend the day lazing around the house, but husband-pants decided against it. He's gotten better at surprises lately and drove us to Tontitown for pasta at our favorite Italian restaurant. Normally I would've protested, but he took a back way (very sneaky) and before I knew where he was taking us, we were nearly there. I got a half serving of spaghetti with meat sauce (and I'm glad I don't know what the calorie/fat content is... sheesh) and ate 1 roll. 2 glasses of water. It was a great lunch and I overate a bit, but I wasn't beating myself up.

On the way home, however, I did beat myself up. I beat myself up in the most ridiculous of ways... and I'm so angry at myself for doing it! Andy's frozen custard is my favorite indulgence in the world... I mean, really. I gained over half of my pregnancy weight because of my late-night Andy's runs. It is HEAVEN. After I abstained from custard earlier this week citing a migraine, Marshall decided I deserved some. I ate a big delicious pumpkin pie frozen custard. Oh yes, I didn't just eat the custard, it had an ENTIRE PIECE of pumpkin pie blended in with it. Jesus.

I just weighed myself and my grand total of weight gained over the weekend is 6 lbs.
I could cry.

Husband-pants totally enables me to eat so bad... I do SO well when I'm by myself during the week but when I'm with him all bets are off. I've got to get better about eating well, and convincing him to do the same.

October brought more weight loss, regardless of my bad behavior, and I weighed in back at 154. I'm officially down to a size 12 and I've lost a total of 4 lbs.

Oh, and Bean made a great skunk for Halloween.


Ok, I've already said I'm way spoiled.
Bean is an awesome baby who lets me sleep tons, plays by herself during the day so I can work, hardly ever cries (hungry/sleepy/scared of strange people wanting to hold her) and eats really well. I'm a spoiled mom and I'll never have another for fear that I'd have a baby who would require more sleepless nights and even more attention. Yeah, its kindof selfish, but I'm allowed, I've been through the newborn phase.

So lately Bean and I have had some very trying times. She hasn't wanted to sleep, she's wanted to eat more than normal, and NO ONE touches the baby but mom. I figured all of this was due to allergies and reaching new milestones. I wasn't as concerned as I was totally frazzled. I was lacking sleep and patience, and I desperately needed a teeny tiny baby-break. One that still seems very out of reach...

Yesterday was bad. Bean didn't want to play by herself at all... she didn't want to sleep, she just wanted to eat, or hang out on my lap. I didn't mind that so much (though it did make it hard to get any work done) but I was INCREDIBLY frustrated that every time I laid her down in her crib she sprung back up, not necessarily upset, but definitely not sleepy. She'd play for a few moments, then back to the boob. We did this probably ten times yesterday and by the eleventh, I was practically in tears.

She was fussy and I couldn't get her to stay asleep... she was mighty cuddly, and she wouldn't let me put her down. I think it was the sight of her crying with one finger hooked in her lip that made me think "teeth?" which, believe me... I've thought many times before (so many, in fact that Husband-pants started adding it to his list of things that could potentially be making her cry: diaper? food? teeth? deep baby thoughts about the state of the nation's economy?) but no teeth were ever there, so we finally stopped assuming that was what was up. I stuck my finger in her little baby mouth and lo and behold! there were teeth! One and a half of them! Right there on the bottom. Joy! Now of course, this called for some serious snuggling and phone calls to the grandparents. Fussy babies are one thing, teeth are another!

I still can't shake that yucky feeling that I'm a terrible mommy for being so frustrated that she was fussy but I'm told it happens to all of us. Its further solidified the feeling that a mini-mommy vacation is necesary, and should happen as soon as possible. Not because I don't love my child (and her teeth) but because sometimes even moms, in all of their infinite wisdom and love can totally overlook all of the signs and say "what in the world is wrong with you, drooly crying thing!?" especially when exhaustion, stress, and teeth come into play.

Pulling Up

Now that Bean has discovered how much fun it is to pull herself up on everything (furniture, boxes, pets, dads laying on the floor, etc...) she has decided sleep, albiet necessary and rather wonderful, is for chumps. In fact, she's refusing to do it. Ever.

Man, these milestones are killing me. I'm going to need some eye cream and amphetamines if I'm going to make it through teething/walking/talking. Sheesh.

I know its all my fault too, for being one of those smug moms who gets tons of sleep and thinks she knows the secret. There is no secret. There is only karma. I have definitely learned my lesson.



she's a babbler. i love it!

Chronic Heebeejeebees

Crawling is going very well, the cat is officially doomed.

Something happened a while back and I got too busy to post about it, but since its still haunting me I'll put it out there.
I went in my bathroom, which is where we've had our worst spider problem, and I put Bean in her jumper-thing. I looked down and right below my sink (2 ft away from Bean) was a HUGE spider.


So I pull her back out of her jumper and we retreat to the living room. I laid her down and ran to the kitchen for bug spray. I grabbed the first can I found and it, she, was in the same spot so I went to spraying... when three things happened:

1. I realized I had not grabbed bug spray after all, that I was actually furniture polishing the little thing to death...
2. the spider was running very quickly towards me,
3. it, she, had something... on her back... that was falling off... like dirt? fur? tiny baby spiders? TINY BABY SPIDERS!!! HUNDREDS OF THEM!

I grabbed the first shoe I could find and I smashed til I couldn't smash any more... and then, I returned to the kitchen, grabbed the bug spray, and proceeded to kill off as many of the tiny baby spiders as I could... though, they're fast, and tiny. At that point I grabbed Bean, and we sat outside and waited for Husband-Pants to return home and clean up my spidery massacre. It was really quite horrible. In fact, I'm still having nightmares and killing tiny baby spiders around my bathtub.

The jury's still out on whether or not it was a harmless house spider or something more sinister and creepy. Lovely.


At 6 and a half months, Bean is fully mobile. Watch out, world!