Simple abs aren't enough!?

I don't know about the rest of society but I am pretty darn hooked on Pinterest. It is so fun to see everyone else's genious craft, recipe and decorating ideas. But here is my only "frusteration" - those little encouragement pictures with a perfectly fit model running in the country and the wording over it, the many variations of "being skinny is more awesome than cookies." ummm...actually i totally disagree and I really can't stop eating cookies! I'm usually wiping Thin Mint Girl Scout cookie crumbs off my down comfortor as I'm reading these encouragements.

In regards to fitness, and body confidence, I told my sweet friends at a baby shower for our friend Belinda today that I am having a "quarter life crisis." It all started when I had my sweet baby boy Brooks, and I gained 45 pounds. I was pretty certain I was growing a 10 pound baby in there so let me tell you the shock when he came out at 6 pounds 6 ounces. Another wonderful shock was when I came home from the hospital, expecting to be just 10 lbs from my pre-baby weight, to find out I had only lost TEN pounds at the hospital....umm, so I basically lost the weight of Brooks!?

Well, I figured I love to work out and enjoy eating healthy (laced with lots of treats), so this will come off easy. Ummm not so much. It took me about 6 months, really 8 months to get back to where I was. But the problem is, the number on the scale is the same, but the bod? Not so much! There are just so many things about the post baby world that people don't tell you about! I am the queen of TMI-too much information-and I know that I have friends who have appreciated me saying the things we are all thinking. To top it off, I do think that as we age, our metabolism drops, and I'm just not able to eat like I used to and look and feel the same. Hence...I am having a quarter life crisis about it.

Yes I know I'm being a little dramatic! And there's nothing worse than a fairly fit person complaining they're fat. SO I will say, I dont' think I'm fat, I'm just shocked at how long it took me to lose those pesky pounds, and also that pretty much nothing on my body looks the same as it did before, except maybe my hair. The wonderful breastfeeding boobs are long gone. They've been replaced with what appears to be a clementine dropped into panty hose. My tummy probably looks about the same in a shirt, but in a bathing suit it has a little pouch that was definitely not there before. Something also happened to my belly button. Not quite sure how to explain it but it just doesn't lay as tight and flat on my belly. Do they have botox for belly buttons? I need to look into that.

Possibly most disturbing, I have also noticed something gathering on my knees, a little layer-y wrinkly wobbly bit that was not there before. I guess this all just comes with age? Or does it come because I simply cannot seem to make myself stop eating Dove chocolates in bed?

In all this quarter life crisis craziness, I have decided to go back to Body Pump, a class that I have always felt helps to tone. I love to do cardio but this is a weight lifting class and I think actually much more beneficial to me because that's what I need more of, the weight bearing stuff. So I'm looking into doing more of that, and reading up on good exercises on pinterest, and come across a little blurb about how just doing regular ab workouts isn't enough. um, what!? I can barely get through 5 crunches without complaining or coming up with an excuse like a potty break, so now you're telling me I've got to do these insane ab moves to get down to what apparently is the real root of my issue, the lower abs?! I think I lost my "lower abs" around the age of 22, so maybe I should just give up. Most of the moves also require a PHD to figure out, there are so many figure eights and leg lifts, I lose track of what I've done and usually just start head bobbing to make it look like I'm still doing crunches!

I think what I really need to focus on is probably enjoying what I have now, finding figure flattering clothes, and putting on blush. Blush seems to make me feel better. I really am going to work on that, but first I'm just going to have a little quarter life crisis time for a little bit and feel sorry for myself and my wobbly bits.

On a side note I think I am addicted to constantly doing something. I blame cell phones and our society that's always multi-tasking. Do you have as hard of a time as me just sitting still while doing something like cooking macaroni? It seems like I have to be pouring Brooks' milk, cooking something and playing a game on my phone for my brain to be satisfied but I really don't think that's good. And in turn it has made me so impatient! I caught myself slightly winking at an at least 75 year old man at the gas pump at HEB just to give myself some entertainment because I was bored. While our tanks filled we ended up talking about the weather and how he used to be able to fill his whole tank for $5, but why couldn't I have just leaned against my car, enjoyed the beautiful Texas January weather like a normal person? I really want to work on this because I fear I will pass on this scattered-ness to Brooks, or that it will get worse! So when Brooks went to bed tonight I decided to go sit on the swing on our porch and just sit there, no phone or book just to sit and think. Well I lasted about 7 minutes and decided I wanted a fresca, so maybe I'll shoot for 10 minutes tomorrow. I suppose I should be doing my abs on the porch?

I'm baaaack

It's been way too long since I have blogged! I so meant to do this more often. With the craziness of the holidays and now that my hubby has been home more with us, I just haven't been at the computer as much as I'd like to be. I have also been busy planning wedding and baby showers. Love this time when you get to celebrate your friends!

I am traveling to Green Bay, Wisconsin this next weekend to celebrate my besty since high school Tara. We are having a wedding shower AND her bachelorette party in one weekend so it's going to be a packed and fun weekend. I get to travel with my mom which I also love. Being the oldest of 5 kids, it doesn't matter how old you get, you learn to appreciate that alone time with a parent.

With my husband home much more now that football season is done, I am trying to switch gears out of the "rut" I was in during the fall. You see when I was basically a single parent, with only a 10 month old who has no control over his farts to impress, I got very very very lazy about certain things that are not okay to get lazy about. Without a hunky hubby home, I found myself picking up a shirt off the floor and throwing it on, and not realizing until I got to the gym that it had cheese on it from last night's broccoli dinner with Brooks. I was also going an alarming amount of time in between shaving my legs. Things were just plain getting out of control. I have long, naturally curly hair that allows me to go a few days in between without washing, but I was really stretching that little trick too far as well. I'm not quite sure but I think even Brooks was judging. Well my point in this is just that now that Zac is home and I've taken to brushing my hair and shaving my legs, I feel a lot better. I'm not schlumping around the house as much, and even my friends at Starbucks noticed - my sweet gay friend said "girl you've been glowing, did you get a spray tan?" bahah! I'm pretty sure I had just brushed my teeth that morning (another thing that had kind of gotten out of control...) but when you are taking care of yourself and holding your head up it's amazing how you feel better!

Just when I think I'm feeling like a million bucks though I know what can bring me down faster than waking up on Sunday with a Chick Fil A craving and realizing it's closed. Those darn Sarah Maclachan commercials. They made huge waves about 3 years ago and for some reason I think they dissapeared for a little while. Well, she's back with a vengeance and she is not afraid to use her darn music to pull you down. I will come bounding in the house after a great run, glance out of the corner of my eye and see a shaking kitty in the corner of a run-down house and just collapse on the floor, feeling so guilty i can't even eat my turkey sandwich for an hour without feeling like a horrible person.

Just want to close it up with a couple thoughts. I got to visit my husband at the Houston Bowl that he was coaching in and spend a couple nights with him while my mom watched Brooks. Romantic time! It was so nice. I noticed that when I get to a hotel, I feel that I must use all the resources they have available as much as possible to "get my money's worth," to the point of ridiculousness and waste. Side note: wasn't even paying for this hotel, he was working. Yet I used enough toilet paper to last a normal person a month, even considered stashing a few rolls in my bag, went to the workout room and used not one but THREE sweat towels (new one for each time I changed machines), took several hour long, steaming hot showers, using at least 3-4 towels afterward, and worked insanely hard to get through that tiny bar of soap. When I checked in, I took an apple from the front desk, not because I wanted the apple, I just felt I should take whatever is free. The apple mocked me in my room for 2 days. Unfortunately, even as we age, I don't think increased maturity or monetary increase in my bank account will change my ways. I know this because as I was leaving, I passed the maid's cart and was thisclose to snagging about 8 bottles of conditioner before her little head popped out of the bathroom, sensing a lurker. I admit...I have a hotel problem!

Travelista

I would like to get to a point where I’m blogging a few times a week but it seems hard for me to get to the computer as often as I’d like. I saw a little part of the blog you can click on to post straight from your phone but that poses a real problem for me as I am not one of those people that should have access to posting their every thought- you would get a lot of un-politically correct thoughts flying at you like spider monkeys and I would probably get scolded by my husband weekly.
This past weekend I was so lucky to get to spend 2 days in Milwaukee, Wisconsin, my old college stomping grounds. I went to Marquette from 2001-2005, and the last 2 years, I lived with 8 girls. If you have ever lived with a large number of girl roommates you know that this is an amazing accomplishment! We were so lucky to have had such amazing memories, and to still love each other afterwards! Of course there were random fights like someone coming home inebriated and eating someone else’s entire pack of velveeta cheese, and as we have aged the random stories seem to have gotten crazier- we laughed hysterically the whole weekend at all the crazy memories we had. We lived in a really neat house on the outskirts of campus with 8 bedrooms. it is so funny to me how I had romanticized that house in my head. I remember it being this beautiful sprawling historic mansion, with intricate cherry woodwork and a warm and fuzzy interior that lent itself to many nights bonding with some of my best girlfriends. Upon arrival at the house at our random drive-by on Saturday, however, I remembered that the house was in one of the most ghetto areas of Milwaukee, about half a mile from a shelter, and next to a very creepy and struggling bulk foods warehouse that I don’t believe I realized at the same could very well be a possible home to many a drug deal. We honked at a boy who was approaching the house, all giggling that he might live there, and rolling laughing as he actually walked up to the house proving he either lived there or knew the residents. After a few minutes one of my roommates and I decided we were too curious and needed to see the inside after all these years.
Well, it took about 20 minutes of knocking and retreating to the back door instead of the front door to get the current boy residents to let us in. I had really forgotten one of the things associated with college that you immediately remember upon walking into a house like this-SMELLS. So many smells. It was the pizza boxes piled high in the kitchen that could have been from September. It was the 8 boys laying on the couch taking a break from final studying (or recovering from Friday’s activities), their Axe body spray fighting so hard to cover their 21 year old body odor. There was a Gatorade bottle in the “formal dining room” (where we used to have a precious picnic table painted white for roommate dinners) that was flavored orange but definitely the color of pee. I really don’t want to know why. I am sure in college if I had a crush on one of those boys, I could have gotten over those smells to watch Friends in his living room, but now I’m old, married to the most hunky boy I have ever met in my life, and I could barely tolerate touring that house for 10 minutes! It is so funny what happens when you get older.
Well overall we had a great weekend and I’m so happy I had the opportunity to see everyone. I was so lucky to live with this group of amazing women. Between us we have many masters degrees, babies, babies on the way, husbands, and hilarious memories. I faced some challenges in college and I’m sure I wasn’t always the easiest to love or to live with, and I feel very lucky to still be part of such a great group of gals. Can’t wait for our next reunion!
Just a couple of notes I couldn’t help but gather while traveling-
Why do people panic in regards to eating while traveling? I flew out early Friday morning and found myself people watching in Houston about 9 am- I got to see literally every person fly into the food court in a panic, look around quickly, and order something that was definitely not going to do anything but disrupt their day and wreak havoc on their airplane seat partner. I saw a petite older woman come in, look at the coffee stand muffins for 5 minutes, and settle on a huge platter of BBQ for her breakfast. When they were taking her order she looked panicked and like she was about to cry yet there she was 2 minutes later sitting at a table stuffing jalapeno sausage in her mouth like it was going to be her last meal ever. I felt so bad for her thinking of her stuffed into the tiny airplane bathroom 2hours later, cursing herself for not choosing the banana and muffin option. Listen people I’m not judging. I have gotten a 2 lb bag of skittles at the airport store, paid 9.95 for it, and shuffled out of their shamed only to polish it off reading US weekly on my flight. I just want to express to everyone that it doesn’t have to be this way! We need to band together and help each other out. Next time I am about to order the Mexican spice platter before my 7:30 a.m. flight, I would love if it someone came up to me and preached about the courtesy of gas movement on the tiny airplanes. We are all in this traveling food frenzy together!
Tomorrow my plan is to post some last-minute great gift ideas I’ve come across through magazines and different blogs. I always like to see everyone else's las-minute ideas.

MAN HANDS

Yes, I believe it’s time to get real and talk about my man hands.

I think I mentioned this before, but we are on a very strict budget. I will buy the store brand cereal and turn lights off throughout the day to make sure I have the money for certain things. And those certain things are: Target, yellowtail wine and family pictures. I looove pictures. I love the random candids that prove we are hilariously imperfect. And I love the professional pictures that we take that make us look like the beautiful family I certainly have in my mind.

We had the honor of having Sarah Giles of Butterfly Chaser Photography take these pictures a few weeks ago in downtown Bryan. (if you live in Bryan/College Station and she isn’t taking your pictures you need to get with her stat!) They are wonderful because she uses a tool called photoshop to make us look a whole lot better than we actually look in person. If you were to see me right this second you might argue that’s not me. I have on Mossimo leggings that have lint all over them and they are cutting right into my mom lower belly. I have on a long gray shirt that used to have a tie at the waist but I lost it so the tshirt scrunches in all the wrong places. And I smell like Chinese food even though I ate chicken and a sweet potato for dinner.

So I was ecstatic to say the least when I got these pictures but I did have one hold up (that I will say, Sarah could not have done anything about!) I couldn’t stop looking at one thing-MY MAN HANDS. I have had man hands for as long as I can remember. Have you scrolled back up to the picture yet? They are enormous. What’s possibly most unfortunately is that they’re directly next to my husband, who is a pretty big guy, and almost the exact same size, and next to a baby, which just exacerbates their size. I’m a fairly average size girl, 5’5”, 1hundredsomethingdifferent every day pounds, but one thing that I’ve always had is the man hands.

When I shake someone’s hand, they often comment, wow nice handshake. I do have a firm grip, but it also helps that I have the hands of Arnold Schwarzenegger and they’ve just completely enveloped said other man’s hand. Mittens never fit.

When I was pregnant, I had to go to TJ maxx and get a ring to wear the last few months because not only did I have man hands, but they swelled to a size bagillion and you could barely see the diamond on my ring anymore because the fat was overflowing sucking it down.

However, once in a blue moon the man hands do come in handy. Last summer I picked up a tarantula with my bare hands at a party at my house and threw it over the fence. Everyone was blown away by my bravery but I knew that I was holding it with my thumb and forefinger and it was practically the state of Texas between me and getting bitten. I can typically get in all my grocery bags in one trip because my man hands can grab about 5 plastic bags in each hand. I give a mean back massage because it’s like having double the hands. But just when I feel I will be able to use my man hands for only good in this world, I get a beautiful family picture back and there they are, haunting me!

On a side note, I want to talk about what happens when mommy gets lazy. We seem to have a crazy amount of laundry lately and I can’t figure out why. Zac and I both try to work out regularly but haven’t increased our work outs, just not sure, but I was doing about 4 loads the other day and trying to move quickly when I opened up the washing machine to pure disaster. I had washed a pee diaper in the wash! Our clothes had gone through an entire cycle, spinning around in soap and pee, and the gel that keeps the pee in diapers was E-V-E-R-Y-W-H-E-R-E. Seriously it was like someone took a gel hose and sprayed it in every shirt pocket. So tip to all you moms out there, don’t just check your hubbie’s jeans pockets for money (I still haven’t found any….), also check those piles for a diaper!
Here are a few things that I have been thinking about lately:
I can resist regular candy much easier than I can resist holiday candy. Don’t get me wrong, I love a good Dove chocolate any day of the year. But if they put Reeses peanut butter into a Christmas tree or an Easter egg shape, I am going to buy them, and I’m going to buy them in bulk.
I cannot find the perfect toilet paper. We had one of Zac’s very sweet friends Brett Baptist visit two years ago and he remarked on emergence from our guest bathroom, “Where did you get this toilet paper, Prison?” I believe I was in a cheap “household items” stage, possibly even a Dollar Tree household items stage. Since then I’ve been on a mission to find that perfect softness but I can’t. It’s either too soft, and falls apart in my hands, or Prison paper. I spent about 15 minutes in the toilet paper isle on Wednesday at HEB (our grocery store) and was even reading the back of the toilet paper packages for information. This has gotten out of control but the worst part is, I remember an experience I had in a country club last year with the perfect toilet paper, and I can’t get it out of my head!
Is there anything better than when your baby is laughing so hard he (or she) farts?

My sweet baby has the trots

Yup you have read that right. I’ve been classy long enough. 3 whole blog posts! Classy no more. It’s time to get down the nitty gritty. Today was a really trying day. Brooks had FOUR yes 4, quatro, FOUR dirty diapers.

My husband is a football coach. This morning he left at 6:30 a.m. and he will not be home until 10 or 11. So who changes them all??? Well, our live in maid took the day off, so it was me. Now, here’s the scoop for WHY my poor little man had so much movement. Disclaimer: this is the long version.

This morning he woke up at 4 a.m. because he has his very first ear infection. He was diagnosed early Saturday morning before the Kansas game. Um, hardest thing I have dealt with yet. I have been having a hard month. It’s a lot of things all wrapped up and multiplied by the fact that I really, really need this football season to be done and Zac to be home with us more! But when the doctor told me his right ear looked a TEENY BIT off, I literally started to ball.

That poor on-call doctor did not know what he walked into! Over emotional mommy, that’s what. I felt overwhelming guilt, if I had taken him in earlier for a little cough he has had, would he have not gotten it? He has not been sick at ALL since he was born besides the reflux he battled for 9 months. So this was just new, and I wondered if I have been negligent taking him to the Gold’s gym day care, etc? Overwhelming “bad mommy” thoughts sprinted through my brain as I sobbed and clutched him in the outdated doctor’s office. That sweet man was awesome. He gave me a little hug and went on and on about it is wonderful Brooks was a month early, weighed 6 lbs, and is now a stout 23 lbs, and just experiencing his first ear infection. He told me that I’m doing wonderful. And I loved him for it! I really needed that sweet encouragement. Who cares if he was a total stranger and probably just worried I wasn’t going to be able to stop crying!? Bahah!

So back to the poops-Brooks wakes at 4 a.m. fussing, and we get up and play and watch Barney and eat breakfast. I am in a tired haze and didn’t realize it but the food I grabbed to feed him was spinach, and more spinach. Poor kid! So at about 5:15 he pukes bright green all over our stark white slipcovered beautiful couch. Yes I’m the idiot with a baby boy and a white couch. Sue me! Praise the Lord he goes back down at 6 a.m. until about 8.

At this point Zac has left and when Brooks gets up and I try to act like it’s just a normal morning and the 4 a.m. thing didn’t happen. So I feed him some fruit, and while I was washing the high chair tray I notice he has gone into my bedroom. I have made our house very safe for Brooks and allow him to go wherever he pleases. He typically wanders and comes right back to me, but this time he is gone about 20 seconds and I hear a squeal of excitement, so I run into the room. The child has gotten into a plate of about 12 homemade chocolate chip cookies on my night stand and has chocolate all over his face, and his fists are bursting with chocolate ooey gooey goodness. And he is ecstatic with himself.

*yes, I had cookies on my nightstand. Yes, I eat cookies in bed. Often. there is literally always something chocolate on my nightstand. I have a problem.
I clean up quickly and count about 8 or 9 cookies still remaining. Meaning my almost one year old 23 pound hot mess of a baby just ate 3 HUGE chocolate chip cookies. He is bouncing off the wall and I have no idea what to expect for the rest of the day! Well news flash: chocolate chip cookies give Brooksy the trots. I felt like it was a nonstop poop train today! Hahaha.

Here is what I have gathered from my sweet little man’s first ear infection though – it’s something I’ve really struggled with since he was born. WE MOMS ARE TOO HARD ON OURSELVES! I am embarrassed to tell people that he has his ear infection. Which is really cray cray! I think we should all be shouting from the roof tops our fears and our insecurities because it will make us all feel better to know we are with faults and we all make mistakes. I have to remind myself that Jesus is the only perfect perfect to ever live.

I do feel at times like this society is pushing moms, women, to just try to one up each other, and be that perfect, put together mom who has just finished 10 crafts, made homemade baby food, and teaches their baby Spanish and French when it’s rainy out. Then there’s me at the park, Brooks is eating rocks and I smell like a lovely mixture of BO and Body Works vanilla sugar, I’m wearing gross workout clothes that probably have baby food on them and I’m sweating and chasing after him but I’m happy. Imperfectly happy. Luckily I do have quite a few normal mommy friends who are not interested in this competitive business. And I really appreciate them!

Tonight I walked with my sweet neighbor Jaime and carried a glass of wine with me. Neighborhood booze cruises are so totally necessary once in a while. It was blissful. We committed to one another that we will start going to a body pump lifting class twice a week in December. I’m posting that on here so I have another reason to hold up this deal. I have wanted to get back into this class since my wedding. When I was engaged I did this classy quite religiously and had wonderfully taught gams on my wedding day. Since that point I have really upped the amount of chocolate I eat in bed and have not been back to the class consistently and it seems my wobbly bits are a bit more wobbly. So I’m looking forward to that Jaime! I’m hoping by February or March I will look like Camille from the Real Housewives of Beverly Hills. Hahahha. Until next time!