Growing pains

Ever since I started this blog, the little dream I’ve had rattling around in the back of my head is to someday get big enough to make this an actual living. So I could stay home with D and any potential future siblings. So I could take care of the house during the days again instead of cramming every chore in after work and having zero free time between the minute I walk in the door and the minute I get into bed. Maybe I’d even get a chance to enjoy living in our house instead of viewing it as one constant project and workload.

But how? How do I make that happen? How do I get SM out there? How do I attract more readers? Does anyone else even care what I have to say enough to read here? I love writing this blog, but do the little snippets and tidbits from my life really entertain people enough to garner traffic? I’m always in awe of some of the blogs I read and their hundreds, if not thousands, of followers and how widely syndicated they’ve become. Granted, I’ve only been writing for a few months compared to years, but still.

I’ve also never considered myself a “writer” by any means. Does that make me less of a blogger? Does it show in my entries and turn people away? Or never even entice them to begin with?

How will I ever be able to compete with the already well-established blogs and their faithful? Not that I’m trying to compete in the sense that I want their readers to come to me, but compete in the sense that I’d like to carve out my own dedicated slice of this great wide internet too. How do they do it? Is there a magic blog fairy that’s sprinkled them with her popularity dust? Is there a list on which I need to get that says, “Hey! Read me!”? Is there that certain je ne sais quoi that all those other blogs have that I’m missing? Or is that just it – there’s “all those other blogs” so I don’t really stand a chance anyway?

Unfortunately I don’t really know how to answer any of those questions. So I’ll just keep typing away, emptying my brain and all its fabulous contents onto these little pages. And for those of you out there reading, thank you! I really do appreciate your stopping by and hopefully hanging out. You’re the ones for whom I like to tell these little stories, even if I have no idea who you are. 🙂

 

Our life in pics

I have been remiss in my photo posting duties lately, so I thought I’d devote an entire post to these past couple weeks pictorially. They’ve been really busy for us, so there have been a ton of pictures to go through. Enjoy!

My beautiful girl, just after her 1st birthday
Silly girl
Watchu want?
So pretty (and yes, i do tell her that)
Mmm, spaghetti-Os
Her new favorite ball
She loved playing with the water table at the party
Rausage!
The cake I made for D
Hmm, birthday cake, you say?
Cakey little 1 year old hand
Birthday girl. Her dress had an adorable tulle overlay on the skirt part
R takes cool pictures
Daddy's little girl
Happy birthday, Daddy!
1st trip to the WI State Fair
Rooonnn Dayyyyyynnnnne
Yeah, the Axe!
Snoozing at The Micro
Hey I like this Micro place!
R had to get one of the "Cheapest Beers" at the Fair
Daddy and his silly sunflower
D helping me pack for Colorado
Daddy & D ready for the Packers' preseason
One of R's bday gifts - I thought this pic was so cute of him & D napping in Canada

 

p.s. i finally ran again last night, the first time since last tuesday. i really need to work on getting more than 1 run in per week. but anyway, i ran 3.57 miles in 32:01, for an 8:57 pace. again, pretty much my standard. it felt awful, so i’m surprised i was able to hold my usual pace. i want to get at least 1 more 5k in before the end of summer.

 

Children in flight

So this past weekend I shocked my sister M and her fiance C by showing up on their doorstep in Colorado. Surprise! My youngest sister A threw them a joint wedding shower on Saturday (what they call a “jack and jill party”), so I wanted to be there for the festivities. As such, I bid R and sweet baby D a fond farewell, hopped on a plane Friday night, spent a great weekend with my sisters and their significant others out west, and flew back Sunday afternoon. Unfortunately I didn’t take a camera, so I’ll have to get M to send me some of the pictures she took at the par-tay. We are a cute trio of sisters.

Anyhoo… I learned that since becoming a mom, children on planes don’t really bother me anymore. Big deal, SM, that’s boring, who cares? No, really – being confined in a flying metal pencil with children, plural, does not make me want to huff and pout and glare anymore. Because I totally used to be one of those people who saw a baby on a plane and instantly wanted to turn around and de-board. For how was I possibly going to endure an entire flight with a screaming, annoying kid? I wasn’t going to be able to sleep, or read, or anything. I was going to have to listen to the inconsolable obnoxiousness and hope I didn’t strain my eyeballs from rolling them so hard the whole time. Har.

So you can imagine my attitudinal surprise when, on my flight out Friday night, I was surrounded by 6 children in the rows immediately in front of and behind me, and I actually found them enjoyable. Gasp! I know, crazy, right? (i just realized i’m using a lot of italics in this post, but trust me, the emphasis is warranted) There was an adorable 1 year old boy right behind me who was having a great time smiling at and generally entertaining the passengers near him. I chatted with his parents a bit since that was his first flight, D’s first flight is coming up in a few weeks on the exact same route as that one on which we were flying, and this boy was behaving wonderfully. There were 2 kids directly in front of me, maybe 10 and 7, somewhere around there. Then there were 3 boys 2 rows behind me and across the aisle, ages I would guess of 5, 3, and a newborn. That whole family of 5 sat together in the 3 seats on that side, so it was a full house back there. The baby cried a couple times, no big deal. What I did find odd, though, was upon our descent into Denver, the oldest of the 3 boys started screaming wildly, “I’m falling! I’m falling!” I thought hmm, that’s a little strange, for the parents weren’t really doing a whole lot to comfort or quiet him. The middle boy even said, “Mason, it’s ok, you’re not falling.” So although I found it weird, it didn’t cause me to want to aim spit wads at the kid like it would have a year ago.

There was a girl sitting in the middle seat of the row in front of that family, who I did see turn around and give a tongue click and a side-eye at one point, but I think one of the boys was repeatedly kicking her chair. Ok, that’s a little different. And the mom did apologize, saying her husband was trying to find the boy’s pacifier to calm him down. She (the tongue-clicker) seemed fine from that point on after the apology. I still couldn’t help but think, oh honey, just you wait until you have little ones of your own. It’s soo different.

This one did make me give a mom a second look, though. On my flight home Sunday, I was seated in the midst of another family of 5. Mom and the 2 older kids, a girl maybe 12ish and a boy maybe 8ish, were seated across the aisle from me, and Dad and the youngest kid, a boy maybe 4ish, were seated center and window on my side. This was all fine, but at one point the girl dropped the portable dvd player, and the mom goes, “Oh way to go, Einstein!” Whaaat? Was that really necessary? Now if she’d said it as a big joke and they all started laughing, like that was a family catch phrase or something, that’d be one thing. But she was serious. Like ugh, why are you so stupid? The girl looked kind of degraded after the comment, and I thought man, that was a little harsh. The dvd player wasn’t broken, this was no major disaster. Did you really need to make your daughter feel like an idiot? I don’t know – I just seem to view everyday things so differently now, since I always relate them to D and how I’d feel or what I’d do if she were involved. And hopefully I wouldn’t see the need to make her feel like junk over something so trivial. Or ever.

But back to the flight out, I was trying to take note of the parents behind me on that one, to see how they were occupying their little guy. He gave a couple little shouts and some tongue-wagging, but he was just having fun, not crying. I noticed he was playing with an assortment of toy balls in what looked like a small tennis ball tube, which is something I think D would like too. Anyone out there have any suggestions for a successful 2.5 hour flight with a 1 year old? I must admit, it’s kind of making me nervous.

 

Good deed?

Yesterday morning on my way to work I gave a homeless man some money. It was the first time I’d actually done so, even though I’ve seen numerous homeless people with signs asking for help over the years. And many of them I’ve seen on the same corner on which this man was standing with his small hand-written sign that read “HOMELESS PLEASE HELP GOD BLESS”.

Was I scammed? Was he really not homeless and just trying to get some extra money? Was he some sort of addict and turned right around to use my money to buy drugs or alcohol instead of a meal or other necessity? I don’t know. But what I do know is that every time I see a homeless person holding a sign asking for help and I drive right by, pretending I don’t see him to avoid actually catching his eye, I feel ashamed. For what if he really is homeless? What if he really does need help and will use whatever money he gets to find a meal or save enough for a shirt or a shower? What if he really has exhausted every other avenue and has finally been reduced to the humiliation of standing on a street corner with a small, unassuming sign, putting himself at the mercy of total strangers to spare some change or even a dollar? If those “what ifs” are true, then who am I to speed right past him, not even acknowledging that another human needs help, and deem him unworthy of my assistance?

So today I finally gave. Do I want a gold star for my generosity? No, I’m just telling an anecdote. I had seen this particular man once before, and I just felt like helping. I wanted to give him $5, but all I had was a $10 this morning, so I guess today was his lucky day.

And it may have really been his lucky day if he was, in fact, just out there scamming people and already had a boat-load of money and didn’t actually need to be standing there. He might have yelled “Sucker!” as I rolled up my window and drove away. But all I heard was his quiet, “Thank you,” and this time I wasn’t ashamed.

 

I want to go

On a trip around the world like this.

 

MOVE from Rick Mereki on Vimeo.

 

How awesome is that? One of my best friends and her husband took like 6 weeks and did an around-the-world trip a few years ago before they had kids, and I was insanely jealous. That is something I’ve always wanted to do. I’d still love to someday, but who knows when we’ll actually be able to now. I’m hopeful, though. I love to travel and see new places.

All 3 parts of that clip are really good – Move, Eat, and Learn. Damn, makes me look totally boring.
 

Mommy stats – 1 year later

I haven’t talked too much about me physically post-pregnancy on here (besides the weirdness that was my boobs for awhile), so I thought I’d let you know what’s happened to my body in the 1 year since giving birth. Oh you don’t care? Too bad.

  • All the mess that occurred “down there” during delivery had healed itself by 6 weeks postpartum. I did have a small tear that needed to be stitched up, but I’m not sure exactly how long those stitches took to dissolve and disappear. By the time I had that routine follow-up appointment, though, my doctor said she couldn’t even tell I had had stitches and gave the all-clear for physical activity and sex again. Ha. No, let me rephrase. HAHAHA! Sex?? After what happened in that general vicinity? Yeah, that didn’t happen for a looooong time. I have no idea how some women can go in for their 6 week appointment and be pregnant again already. Holy OUCH! I was scared of it. Terrified, really, but that’s a whole other post…
  • I weighed myself on D’s birthday, and exactly 1 year after delivering her I weigh 39 pounds less than I did when she was born. And that is still 6 pounds less than I weighed when I got pregnant. I was 154.5 when I found out I was pregnant, gained 33 pounds to 187.5 at the end, and was 148.5 on Monday. I had lost all of my pregnancy weight by 3 months postpartum, before I went back to work. I then lost some more last winter with breastfeeding and multiple bouts of the flu, but now I’ve been able to get back to this level for awhile. And my body seems to be functioning properly again since I stopped breastfeeding, ahem, so I’m happy with this weight.
  • It took me a very long time to get back into shape after giving birth. I haven’t not exercised for a prolonged period of time since before high school, literally, so it was definitely a shock for me to be so physically wimpy. I was no body-builder before by any means, but I couldn’t even lift things that used to be an absolute breeze for me. I started going for regular walks with D in the stroller a few weeks after she was born, then did work up to jogging again by last fall. But then came winter, and I don’t run outside if it’s below 50 because I hate running in the cold, so there went that exercise routine. I canceled my gym membership by the end of last year also, because I had zero time to get there with a baby. Kudos to those of you parents who go every day, but I couldn’t do it. Nor did I really want to. I much preferred playing with and taking care of D than paying to go get all sweaty. Finally, come this past spring, I started back in earnest. I began seeing my trainer again (fortunately i can workout with her at the gym still without being a member), I started running regularly and signed up for some 5ks to make sure I stuck with it, and I do abs and push-ups on my own fairly frequently. I can now say that I feel like I am back in pretty good shape, and have been feeling this way for the better part of the summer so far. So it was almost a full year before I regained my cardiovascular endurance and some muscle mass and strength. Damn.
  • I am very fortunate to have escaped any postpartum depression with D. I was honestly worried about this, because there is a strong history of depression and mental illness on one side of my family, which could have made me a prime candidate. I made sure I knew what the symptoms were, and I told R that if he ever saw those signs, I would need help. I know that just because I experienced none of them this time doesn’t mean I’m out of the woods for any subsequent kids, but I am hopeful.
  • My back is definitely different after being pregnant. It obviously hurt by the end of my pregnancy from all the extra weight I carried, but even since giving birth it’s still more sensitive than it used to be. Not like sharp pains or pinched nerves or anything like that, but it just gets uncomfortable more easily now. Like on one of our couches I still have to sit with a pillow behind me to feel like my back isn’t totally sinking into the cushions. Maybe some of it has to do with holding D across me all those months of breastfeeding, and similarly now when I hold her at night and in the morning to give her a bottle. Or I could just be making that last part up. I’m no chiropractor.
  • My crazy smells did go away after pregnancy. I’m not kidding, though, there are 1 or 2 things that still make me cringe to this day when I smell them, all because I started hating the scent at the beginning of my pregnancy.
  • I’ve already talked about my hair loss and how that rectified itself after a few months, thank god.

I think that about does it. I was lucky – I had no major problems during my pregnancy and actually enjoyed it, and had a smooth recovery after delivery. I just really hope I didn’t use up all my good ju-ju this time around and have a hell of a ride in store for next time…

 

The little things

Today I’m wearing a necklace that has been one of my favorites for about 10 years now. It’s nothing fancy, just a little silver necklace with some purple crystals every couple inches interspersed with pale lavender freshwater pearls. I wore it every day for the longest time after I got it, but it has since come to be worn mainly when it perfectly matches certain articles of clothing, like the lavender shirt I have on. Do you do that too? Match specific pieces of jewelry to corresponding outfits? It’s like I never think of some of my jewelry until I put on that one shirt or dress. Funny. Anyway.

The reason this necklace will always hold a spot dear in my heart is because it was the first gift R ever gave me. And I will never ever forget the moment either. It was my last minute in Madison before I had to drive home to Peoria and make the big move out to NYC in the summer of 2001. I think I moved out there July 1, so this would have been the last weekend in June when I left Madison. And it was the absolute last thing I wanted to do by then. For R and I had become so close (though we weren’t “dating”, mind you. that became official later), and I had some incredibly good friends who I couldn’t bear to leave. Fortunately they all came to visit me shortly after I moved out east, but still. The actual leaving process was horrible.

The whole day I was dragging my feet, putting off leaving as long as humanly possible. R had helped me load up the stuff I was taking in my car that hadn’t been shipped out on the moving truck, we grabbed some lunch at Qdoba on State Street, then we watched a movie over at their apartment on Dayton that afternoon. And believe me, those closing credits were the last thing I wanted to see. For they meant I had to go. So we were like ok, this is it. He ducked into his bedroom quickly as we were heading to the door, then walked me downstairs and across the street where I was parked. I gave him a big hug that I never wanted to end and said something dumb like, “Well, it’s been fun.” I honestly felt like I was never going to see anyone from Madison again, as crazy as that may sound. That’s when he reached in his pocket and handed me this little necklace.

I was absolutely floored. One, I was certainly not expecting a parting gift, but two, did this mean he actually had feelings for me beyond the “friends with benefits” thing? Holy shit! And now I’m literally getting in my car and moving 1,000 miles away?? Great timing. And I thought I didn’t want to leave earlier that day. Once he gave me that necklace I would have cemented my feet right there in the street in front of him if I could have. That was one long, lonely, confusing drive home.

Obviously he did have feelings for me, and I for him, which we finally admitted when we started officially dating a little over a month later. And whaddya know? We’ve been together ever since. Awww… sappy, I know. But sometimes it’s just the little things that really do mean the most. And every time I wear this necklace I’m taken right back to that day a decade ago when I first thought hmm, maybe this could actually turn into something more.

I love that the clasp is a heart