Fabulous Miss S.

Random bits and worthless bites

We made it home from Florida, all three of us, in all of our respective pieces.  It'll be a cold day in DC before I fly alone with both kids again.  Actually, it wasn't so bad, just not too easy and I'd like them both to get older before attempting that endeavor again.

I was hoping to sweat off a few pounds while visiting the southern sunshine state, but, alas, the stress of being alone with two children literally pushed me into the kitchen between putting each kid down to bed to shove a cookie into my whine hole and gulp some wine to chase to the cookie.  I did a little walking, albeit, at Noah's pace, a LOT of sweating and a gained a few pounds.  Dammit.

But I do not apologize for the wine.  It was necessary. And, most enjoyable!

I've been wondering lately, after reading something that Pamela wrote about PPD, if I am once again experiencing a touch of depression.  Sure, there are days that are darker and less enjoyable than others but I am definitely able to enjoy Mallory's babyhood more than I did with Noah. So that makes me think I have dodged the bullet, but, some days, I remember how awful I felt about myself and I know I am feeling that again. Feeling frustrated with my body for not bouncing back, not re-energizing fast enough, not perking back up, not tightening back up.  I sacrificed a lot to gain less weight with this last pregnancy and it doesn't seem to have done any good in the becoming a MILF again category, so, what gives?  I think my emotional difficulties are more because of Noah's issues, which makes me feel guilty on top of the usual stress of splitting yourself between two children because I know I haven't dealt with things but each day, more is piled on and I just have to keep going forward.

I have a lot of emotional and feelings about Noah and what autism as done to me as a mother, us as a family, Mallory as a sibling, and Noah, mostly being the one with the ...disability.  I see him facing challenges and I'm trying to learn how best to help him all the while trying to just be a parent that I put my own feelings and needs aside and it is starting to catch up with me.  Er, has, it has caught up with me.

I have been exercising for four months now and haven't lost a single fucking pound. 

Wait. That's not true. I have lost and regained the same four pounds about seven times now.

The problem is my eating.  After a tantrum or a three-hour dual-child double-teamed solo-parenting bed time I head straight for the pantry and spoon anything down my throat as fast as I can.  And I'll be honest with you, it isn't usually an apple or carrot sticks. Eating actually does numb the emotions and the sting of the fatigue and stress, temporarily.  It comes charging back 

I'm tired. I am run down. I am worn thin.  I am hurting and vulnerable.  I am a new mother and a struggling mother and I am totally using food as comfort.  It feels good going down but then I immediately feel guilty for wasting yet another potential day of good eating. 

I don't have anything that fits me other than soft, stretchy exercise clothing and that is shameful. I feel shameful.  I feel frumpy and lumpy.  This is the biggest reminder really because, I don't look that bad.  We aren't talking about tons of poundage here. More like, oh ... 15 pounds. My old clothes pinch and pull in the most uncomfortable ways.

With all the exercise and healthy foods I have been eating I should absolutely be at my prepregnancy goal weight by now and enjoying the summer in shorts and tanks.   I hate that this bothers me so much.  I promised myself years ago that if I ever had a daughter I would make it my life mission to ensure that I instilled in her a positive self image and self esteem.  I want her to value herself as a healthy woman who makes positive contributions to society, loves her family, sets goals and tackles challenges, and does not waste a second of her precious life concerned with the size of her thigh or a pinchable inch or two (or four) around her midsection five months after she gives birth.  

I am jealous of the inner strength of this unapologetic woman.  I want her confidence, although I know she worked damn hard for it and deserves every ounce.  Her words inspire me and give me hope that in time, I will also love myself for what I am, regardless of what others think. 

Now, why can't I just want this for myself too? 

Flamingo in Hand

You know what they say ...a bird in the hand....

For $.25 at Jungle Gardens you, too, can feed a Flamingo.

This was totally one of the highlights of my week.  A far second, of course, to all the words my son said. 

Flamingo Chase

Florida Naturals

Bras, Benedryl and Butts

At the airport, heading into security, which was totally not the train wreck I suspected.  The TSA dude was really cool about my double stroller.  He wanded it while I carried both children through the security screen at the same time.  People sort of laughed at the sight of us. 

Mallory did a little screaming to test the acoustics of the BWI A terminal area. She gives it a double baby-thumbs up.  Noah was a zombie from the large dose of Benedryl I gave him when we parked the car.  To this I say: Total Parenting Bazinga!

Note to self: nursing tank under a tank does not equate to wearing a real brassiere.  Wear a bra, it might make the milk boulders point somewhere towards the Tropic of Caner.

Also, please note my Mommy Needs a Cocktail shirt!  Thank you Kristen!  

The most groovy backpack is Noah's school pack.  It's an overpriced Dante Beatrix, but come on, it's made from recycled plastic water bottles!

Noah did really well on the airplane.  We spent about fifteen seconds before we left the house this morning looking at a PEC picture of an airplane and I explained that we were going to fly on an airplane to Florida and see Grandma Sandy. 

Sitting in a big boy seat, with a big boy seat belt, thanks to Children's Benedryl.  All seriousness aside, he did well, about as well as any two year old would, perhaps even better.  There was only a small stretch of time from the time the cabin doors slammed shut until the moment the plane touched soil in Florida that I was a tooth grinding, sweaty-palmed mess.

While Noah stood in the seat licking the headrest (gag.) and ogling the rear of the plane I glanced at the watch of my seat neighbor to the right and noticed it was 12:59pm.  So, I sang a few songs to him to entice him to turn around and sit the fuck down right now.  I glanced back at the clock and it was 1:02pm.  I considered counting the seconds until landing but I got side tracked with taking my boob out AGAIN to nurse Mallory

Also, to the man in 14 A .... I am sorry that your trip south today involved so much visual time of my nipple.  I don't blame you for going to sleep.  And thanks for returning the matchbox cars that my son threw at you. 

And now we are here.  All is good in the world. 

Amy was right, a change of scenery does wonders.  I feel so good being distanced from the bull shit of my life at home.  It feels fantastic to focus on the kids and just have a nice time.  Enjoy walks, play on the floor.  Watch the kids faces when they make each other laugh.