Can I be really honest with you guys for a minute? I mean, really honest...

I feel like I've been censoring myself over my years in blogging, trying to not to reveal too much while still forming bonds with people who are genuinely interested in my life...
I don't want to, and I don't even really know how it happens... its a natural response I suppose. Working in corporate America for years I was warned of my presence online, after hearing stories of people losing their jobs over blogging, I became weary of revealing too much. Its not that I don't trust you people, I just don't want anyone to use my words against me.

Here's what's up though... I have been going through a particularly rough few months, and I feel like its unfair to assume that you guys wouldn't want to hear about it... I mean, you're here for a reason, right?

Husband-pants is no longer husband-pants. He's wearing some not-so-husband-y-pants these days, as we've been separated for a little while. We're currently trying to feel out this separation (the emotional and financial implications of divorce are overwhelming to say the least). In doing so, we've learned quite a bit about each other, relationships, and what we do and don't want out of ourselves, our partner, and our lives. This has needed to happen for a while, and I'm glad to say that we're, for the most part, really happy. In fact, that was our biggest motivation in doing this. We're of the mindset that 2 unhappy parents do not a happy child make.

I can't put a finger on the moment I knew we were too far gone, I think it was a slow realization, one that snuck up on us over time. When it happened though, we tried so hard to resist it. We recommitted ourselves to the lasting marriage we promised each other years ago, but it was only a week or so before the fighting started again, worse than before. It was obvious we weren't going anywhere we wanted to be. After a weekend apart full of reflection we decided a separation would be best for all of us, and we've stuck to it.

So far, its proven very beneficial. In fact, this weekend was spent as a family, the three of us watching movies and hanging out like old days... there was just a different dynamic. Bean girl definitely realizes what's going on, and we kick ourselves for it quite frequently, but we're working on improving our relationship as a family every day, even though our relationship as a couple has come to an end.

With all of that said, its still difficult to move on. Its a long process, I hear, and we're wading through it and sorting out what we're feeling, but its hard. Divorce is a scary thing, and its looming heavily over both of us right now.

I don't regret a day that I've spent with Marshall. I proudly embrace my (not-so) new last name, and all of the changes that came with it. He has helped shape the person I am today... and I actually, for the first time in my life, really love that person. We have achieved impossible and wonderful things in our time together. I hope never to forget the road that brought me to where I am today, regardless of whether I'll be walking down it alone or not.

Thank you, Marsh.
♥

Bean is walking... in a serious way. She took those monumental first steps on January 3rd, and husband pants totally missed out. He went to see a movie with a friend, and bean girl and I had just finished dinner. She's been walking around the couch for months now, but I positioned myself just out of arms reach and asked her to come see me. She toddled on over, and when she reached me looked up like "oh wow... that was cool." She's been alternating between crawling and walking since then, and is just fascinated with this whole walking thing. She's doing it all the time now. The dogs aren't nearly as excited about it, of course, but they don't have much of a say in these matters...

Also, check out those mad dancing skills! The kid loves sad old country songs, what can I say- its mostly husband's fault. She's a sucker for a good beat- TV, radio, catchy cell phone ringtone... she'll be dancing for sure.

She's pretty darn fantastic, I know...

I've never been big on new years resolutions, but this year I made a huge one. I've always said that resolutions are made to be broken, so who knows how long I'll stick with it, but this year, I'm going to have sex with my husband every day.

Every... day.

I read this article in Glamour and was inspired... and while I really hope our ultimate outcome isn't another pregnancy (yikes!) I do hope we rediscover each other and grow close again.

Its January 4th and I've already questioned my resolve, but we've gotten into a rut I'm determined to get us out of. Every night we do the whole "sleep or sex?" thing... and honestly, sleep usually wins. We're parents... and even though Bean sleeps like a champ for the most part, its still nice to get a good 8 hours in!

Sex is important, though. In fact, I just don't think we've put enough emphasis on it so far. We went from being newlyweds to having Bean and we're putting all of our energy into taking care of her, instead of ourselves. Its a mistake all parents make, I'd like to think.

So I've resolved to have sex with my husband every day... to put away whatever arguments or frustrations we dealt with throughout the day, to give up my worries about the house, the bills, and the baby for just a little while. Honestly, I've slept better in the past four days than I have in months! And even more interesting is that my house is cleaner, and he's spending more time playing with Bean and hanging out with me.

I know it may sound crazy, but having sex with my husband may be improving my marriage. Who would've thought!?

Yep, I'm one of those moms. My baby cries, in her own crib, in her very own bedroom, just about every night now... even some days. No, that doesn't make me a terrible parent, and I promise she's still a cool kid full of happiness and rainbows. So much so, we've decided, she's just not interested in sleep. You see, when you're so absolutely fascinated with everything around you, sleep just doesn't sound like much fun.

There have been a few sleepless nights where in sore-boobed desperation I've asked her why she won't just go to sleep. That's when she looks at me with those big baby eyes saying "I can crawl, eat big people food, and I have teeth! Would you want to sleep through any of that?" and I understand it, I really do... I remember college... well, some of it. So I had to make a choice.... do I let her decide when she goes to bed, even if that means we're all up until 3 a.m. or do I start getting her used to going to bed on her own... putting herself to sleep...

It seemed so wrong- I work all day to try to keep her happy, why would I want to put her in bed with the purpose of letting her cry? She's always been one of those happy breastfed babies that has always gone straight to sleep as soon as you stick a boob in her mouth. When her pediatrician (baby-god) mentioned that she needed to start "soothing herself to sleep" even if it meant she cried for a while, our only question was "but how do we keep her awake long enough!?"
Now we know.
Lately she's either resisted the whole time by kicking or flailing, or she'll wake herself up the second her little tushy hits the crib mattress. I'm sure there's got to be something in the world that's more frustrating than that, but I sure can't think of anything.

So we started putting her down, letting her cry, and eventually she goes to sleep. I go in, make sure she's comfy and dry, cover her up, and she eventually falls asleep and sleeps all night. In the morning, she's my happy little bean again. Last night brought back memories of the Mad About You episode where Paul and Jamie sat outside the baby's room for hours listening to her cry... and by the end, the baby's asleep and they decide they've broken her heart. I watched that episode the weekend before I went into labor and swore up and down I'd never let my child cry herself to sleep... but I do, and I don't feel like her little heart is breaking... mine does, but hers seems just fine.

As husband-pants and I were sitting in the bathtub (our big people retreat, after baby goes to bed) talking about matters unrelated to bean, I started thinking about how badly I've neglected my good friends... two, in particular, and how much I needed some time to myself. I've been justifying not taking a break for months now by saying that since I breastfeed bean and she refuses to take a bottle that it'd be hard for me to leave her with husband-pants at night. Now, though, I'm not solely responsible for getting her to sleep. I make sure she's fed, but the rest can be easily done by anyone else... that is awesome.

I never thought that I'd be able to share the responsibility of bedtime with anyone else in the way that I'm able to now, at least until after bean was weaned... I'm thrilled with it, really. Bedtime used to be my time... After I fed her I'd watch her sleep for a while before I laid her down. I had a certain way I covered her up every night, a routine... and that's different now, but I'm ok with it. Husband-pants feels more involved, bean gets better sleep, and I get a little time to myself. This weekend I plan to go out with my friends and recharge... every mom needs a break, and I'm well overdue. I'm excited about getting out and having no worries about bean girl for a little while, because I know she's fed, and husband-pants can handle the rest, and there's something so absolutely liberating about that.

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.

she's a babbler. i love it!

Husband-Pants and I went to meet with his dietitian in Little Rock a couple of weeks ago. We weren't nearly as off track as we thought we were, and she was actually very impressed with his progress. He's been weighing in at 320 at home and when he hopped up on her scales he was pleasantly surprised to find that he was 20 lbs lighter! You better believe I nearly threw him off the scale in my scramble to see if the same was true for myself, but alas, it was not. Our scales here at the house must be off. Yay! Husband-Pants hasn't weighed 300 lbs since Jr High school. He can now comfortably wear an XL shirt (well, a big XL, not all of them) and he's starting to lose around the waist again. Yay! I am, as of this morning, down to 161. Quite an accomplishment considering the copious amount of brownies and cookies I indulged in this week (indulged = pigged out). I am officially in a size 13 jean again for the first time in 3 years (holy crap!) and I'm feeling good. We've both got 25 more lbs to lose to be at our weight goals. Its been a crazy long road. :)

That is the question.

Husband-pants and I are trying to decide if we want to have another bean. If you'll recall, when I was pregnant, I wanted a whole herd of them- lots of little Gerlaughs running about! The more the merrier! Birth control is for suckas! Women were born to have babies! This gives my life purpose and meaning and that's all I could ever ask for!

That was then.

Now don't get me wrong, I had a WONDERFUL pregnancy, and was terribly thrilled about all of it, down to the peeing on myself with every step I took days. My 18 hours of labor even weren't all that terrible... in fact, dare I say I actually enjoyed labor, and were it not for the mountains of medical bills that rolled in afterwards, I'd do it any day. It was empowering, rewarding... and magical, all at once. I am also blessed with a well-behaved, wonderfully bright, responsive, fun kid... who I enjoy spending all of my time with. Really, it would make sense that I'd want to do it all over again, but I'm just not so sure.

First off, I would love for Bean to be an only child, to grow up with all of our time, attention, and focus. I can see so many benefits to it... and I've heard so many times that when you have another, you just develop more attention, more focus, more love, than you ever expected to have, and that neither kid feels left out, but I'm just not so sure. Maybe it was because my sister was so much younger than me, or maybe its because my parents divorced the year she was born, leaving my mom to raise us both and single-handedly support our family, but that kid took up a lot of everyone's focus, and there were times I felt mighty left out. I'm sure that during my rebellious teenage years when I was working every nerve my mother had, that she felt the same way. I wonder at times if that lack of attention caused my "look at me, i'm doing something i'm not supposed to!" attitude in my late teen years, and my sister's "i refuse to do anything to fit in with anyone because i need attention! gimme gimme gimme!" attitude right now. I don't want to deal with all of that, for Bean's sake or mine!

Plus, I'm just now getting the hang of this small business thing. I'm finally getting to the point where I can make a decent living by working at home, which is so wonderful! It was so hard when Bean was little because I didn't have the time, and even now my design time is precious, I have to do as much as I can between breastfeeding, diaper changes, picking her up so she doesn't roll under the TV cabinet, walking about, playing, and learning with her... Why would I want to add another baby to the mix!? This one's just getting the hang of being a real person!

Why, indeed... all of my reasoning so far has gone into why I don't want another one, why I think it'd be better to stop right here... but there's still another side to all of this. Husband-pants wants another one... right now. He wants a little boy, which I completely understand is every father's dream, he wants football practice and someone to watch wrestling with, blue baby booties and pee pee tee pees... but what if we do get pregnant again and its another little girl? Does that mean we're trying for a third? Maybe it makes me an awful wife and abnormal woman but that just makes me cringe! Kids are so much work! I'm way happy with just one, thanks! Now that's definitely not to say that I wouldn't be thrilled if we got pregnant again... I'm a firm believer that if its supposed to happen it will... but planning for another? I just don't think its for me.

That's why this week I'm determined to figure out what to do about birth control... "Oops" just isn't an option until we're totally sure what we want to do. It is, in fact, how we got to this point in the first place, remember? Now that's not to say "Oops" can't be a happy word, its just a much better idea, in my opinion, to have a plan for such things. Its what responsible adults do, right?

My mom tells me I'll get the urge to do it all over again... that it took her 7 years but she finally did. That at some point I'll see someone's adorable little baby and my uterus will scream and bam! its procreation time!! And I don't disagree! Part of me would love to be pregnant again... to labor for hours upon hours and have another warm little baby-scented ball of love... it would be amazing... all of it... but after that part is over, there's another little person who'll be demanding my time and attention all over again. While I'd be just as glad to give it as freely as I have for Bean, I'd much rather give it all to Bean, and to my marriage, and to our family... because really, its pretty fantastic just the three of us.


Now that's not to say I'm not a little bummed about never having a real occasion to use a pee pee tee pee, but for now I'll settle for giving them away to all of my friends who are currently fulfilling their destinies by bringing beautiful children into the world, hopefully some of which are boys that actually have a need for such contraptions.