Poopocalypse 2012

We were really busy this weekend. From spending time with family, to planning our garden (OK, my husband's garden, I've gladly handed it over to him since I'm so busy working from home and taking care of Amelia), to visiting a close friend in the hospital, it felt like we were constantly on the run. So, Sunday morning I decided to leave Amelia with Jon while I took Molly to the college campus down the road for a walk. The start of the day was gorgeous, and it was nice to take a walk, just Molly and me. She was my constant companion pre-Amelia, running all my errands with me and often accompanying me to the houses of friends and family. These days it is too overwhelming to pack her and Amelia and the stroller, along with leash and diaper bag, so she's often stuck at home.

It was a great walk. I'm a two time alumni of the college, and they had done a lot of construction over the summer, so it was great to see all the new buildings and landscaping. Plus, I really exercised hard this week, so the walk loosened up all my tight and aching muscles.

Molly and I were finishing up our hour long walk when I received a picture message from Jon. Aww, I thought. It must be a cute picture of my little sweetie pie.

Instead, it was a picture of an overly full diaper.

Are you serious?!? My husband did not just text me a picture of a poopy diaper. It was so unexpected that I started giggling. I texted him back, "Uh oh, did we have a poo bomb? Better you than me!", and continued on my way.

Not much later, I received this text: "It's on the her and her clothes, the foot rest, toy box, tub, and Daddy."

Wait, what??? How did she get poo all over so many things? I was giggling so hard at this point that I was rather glad that the campus was fairly deserted.

When I arrived home, Jon was in a fairly worked up state, waving his hands around and describing how he hadn't even known at first that she had pooped, but when he did figure it out, he seemed to find evidence of this biological function all over the house.

You may be asking, how did it get all over so many things? Well, there are two parts of this. First, I try to make sure Amelia gets a fair amount of fiber in her diet. She is a great eater, but not so hot on veggies, so I am always inspecting food packages and trying to buy her treats and breads with a higher fiber content. Any mother knows that a constipated baby is an unhappy baby and therefore, I try to avoid that issue. Apparently, I'm doing a great job at making sure things are moving along for her! The second part of what I am now deeming as the "Poopocalypse of 2012" is that Amelia has discovered her butt crack:

Because she has found this part of her anatomy, she often sticks her fingers back there and pushes her diaper down, or in this case, makes a mess of whatever her diaper happens to contain.

And yes, I am definitely putting this picture in the "Items to show a future boyfriend" pile.

So there you have it. The events of Poopocalypse 2012, successfully managed by my dear husband. It's a good thing that I enjoyed that walk because he may never let me out of the house again!

Post Poopocalypse

**Psst.... did you catch me over on Curvy Girl Guide Friday? Here's the link!

Weight a Minute...

Last week at the gym, I walked into the daycare room to pick Amelia up. A young girl, probably about 8 or 9 years old, walked up to the daycare attendant and said: "My mom let me get on the scale today. My weight went up instead of down." Then she frowned in utter disappointment. We both looked at her and began disagreeing right away. The daycare attendant looked calmer than I felt, as I spat out "You are a growing girl, you SHOULD be gaining weight!"

As the mother of a little girl, I have many fears. I worry that she will get sick. I worry that someone will hurt her. When I watch Intervention as she sleeps cuddled in my arms, I often sob as I watch parents plead with their children, begging them to get help. I fear that could be my daughter someday. Sometimes, I even whisper to her as she sleeps, "Mommy will always protect you." But, I know I can't, so instead, I worry.

I think I fear, in particular, that she will experience pains that I have experienced. With the glory of genetics comes the fear that she will inherit something that I have struggled with. I become concerned that she will be depressed some day, or suicidal, or anxious. I fear that she will spend a chunk of her life not valuing herself or having confidence. I worry that she will feel fat and obsess over food.

This last worry is one that I sometimes feel she will face no matter how hard I try. Every day, I see body issues all over the place. Women at the gym complaining about their shape, celebrities on the news starving themselves to get thin, new diets, new weight loss shows-- our culture is saturated with it.

Although I don't want Amelia to be obsessed with her body size and shape, I do want her to have a good understanding of what she should do to be healthy. We don't let her drink juice or have many goodies. I give her fruit with every meal and call it her 'dessert'. I don't eat fast food, and therefore, she doesn't either. I hope that giving her a good foundation of what is healthy will help her make good nutritious choices when she is older. When I head to the gym, I hope that her seeing her mommy be active on a consistent basis teaches her that moving your body is GOOD for your body.

Am I naive enough to believe that these things alone will protect Amelia from overeating, making poor food choices, or feeling like she is fat? NO. But, what else is a mom to do?

I mean, other than having a good body image herself.

GULP.

Feeding Amelia healthy foods and hauling her to the gym with me is relatively easy. At my highest weight ever, positive body image is rough. I swore when I found out we were having a little girl, I would not utter the words "I'm fat" in her presence. I'm still pulling that off as I hide in our bedroom and complain to my husband as I pinch my belly and my hips. "LOOK at this!!! How can you even be attracted to me anymore?!?" as Amelia is in the living room watching cartoons. Each time I utter these words, I can see his disappointment that I do not believe I am as beautiful as he sees me.

Really, I don't think I'm ugly. I've developed a lot of confidence with age. I'm raising a happy, healthy daughter, I have a successful career, a good marriage, a terrific family. I'm intelligent, strong, and determined. All that being said, I'm not happy with how I feel. My pants are tight, I don't have as much energy as I used to when I work out, and my food choices are not all that great. I've been attempting to make better choices since the first week of January, and though I'm eating healthier and exercising more, the scale is not budging, nor are my pants getting looser. It's frustrating.

And yet, each day I wake up with new hope. I think with age has come more clarity about why I want to lose weight. It's not because I want to be super thin and it's not because I think more people will accept me if I'm a few sizes smaller. It's because I want to be healthier and feel better, and most importantly, I want Amelia to have a mom who takes care of herself for all the right reasons.

In a few weeks I will be a guest writer for the Random Blogette. A group of us have joined together on Facebook to support each other's efforts to be healthier. There I will explain my own personal struggles to fight my food demons and be healthy. And, in April I will be running my first half marathon, come hell or high water. My goal is to just finish the darned thing, even if I have to finish it walking. Not just for me, but for my daughter.

First Day of August: Amateur Updates

Being gone all weekend visiting with family has put me behind on everything, but it was definitely worth it. We went to visit my grandparents and had a terrific time. Amelia did pretty good overall and we enjoyed seeing family and getting out of town for a bit. We followed up this visit with a quick trip to my in-laws Sunday night. However, now my brain is somewhat stuck, turning over and over in my mind what I need to get done: an oil change for my car, give Amelia her bath, apply to two jobs for unemployment (sigh), clean the house, unpack, get groceries, plan dinners for the week, go for a run-- I don't even know where to start. And I certainly can't pick one theme for my post today. So I'll just review everything.

• The Day of Doom went better-- way better-- than I thought it would. The laughing gas and ipod really did the trick and post root canal I only had to take some motrin once that evening. I still need a cleaning, some cavities to be filled, and the fixed tooth needs to be crowned, but since I tore threw my yearly insurance money, I have to wait till I switch to Jon's insurance in September. I'm happy that I've found a good dentist, though, especially one that is willing to give me nitrous oxide even just for cavities filled. Clearly, he takes my anxiety seriously. Maybe because I almost passed out while he was doing my novocaine shots. Hey, when I said I have anxiety issues, I wasn't kidding.
• Amelia still has one lonely tooth and has not chomped me further. She must have taken my threats of switching her to formula seriously. Meanwhile, she is working at mobility but has too much genetic impatience to really perfect crawling. She mostly plants her face into the carpet after wiggling her butt around, and then starts whining and grunting. This is her "pick me up, damn it, so I can practice walking" sound. She can also roll across our bed in about five seconds so this is no longer a safe place for her unless I'm two feet away from her. Even then, it's questionable.
• My attempts to lessen our grocery bill while also buying more locally grown food is going well, I think. Jon is really making a good effort to pack his lunch rather than buy fast food (GAG) every day. I think our weekly grocery bill is less than it was a month or two ago. If nothing else I'm happy that I didn't buy a pound of peanut butter mousse and a candy bar on our trip to Meijer today.
• I'm further pushed to improve my health habits by two things 1) my friend is running a 5 mile race in 3 weeks, and I'm toying with the idea of running it with her and her family. I've never run 5 miles in my life, even pre-baby and minus 25 pounds, so part of me is certain that I'm crazy. Another part of me knows that I can do this, and should do this, for multiple reasons. I ran 3.6 miles today, so that's a start. 2) I'm reading The Dirty Life: A Memoir of Farming, Food, and Love. I'm enjoying it so much that I've zipped through it in almost less than a week, which is saying a lot when I'm concurrently keeping track of a nine month old. I'm finding it to be very inspiring, not just because it discusses a healthier way of eating, but also a healthier way of living. An added bonus: The librarian looked at me like I'm a pervert when she checked my book out for me. It's about farming lady, read the subtitle!

Keep It Moving

Yesterday I ran two miles in the hot summer sun with my golden retriever at my side and baby in her stroller.

I can just hear half my family say "What the hell's a matter with ya, girl?!?"

Due to the ridiculous heat and humidity, I really thought I'd only walk a couple miles and be done for the day. However, I was already sweating after I'd walked a half mile so I figured I might as well give it a try. And, to my credit, it was before noon. I am not as crazy as the 50 year old man I saw running through Maumee the other day at 5pm while it was 93 degrees. I was pretty sure he was either going to fall over from a heart attack or burst into flames on the sidewalk.

Frankly, if someone had told me when I was 16 that I would be a regular exerciser when I was 30 years old and post-baby, I would have told them they must be high on something. I'm not an athlete. My physique does not reflect a runner's body. And yet, I've been exercising regularly for the past seven years. It just kind of happened. I joined Weight Watchers and a ladies only gym with my friend and it didn't take long for me to be hooked on endorphins (not so much hooked on dieting, apparently using all your daily WW points on chocolate and wine is not terribly effective). I even worked out during my whole pregnancy, including the last month when I finally had to give the gym up and waddle down the country lane next to our house with my dog.

Because I have grown to love exercise, I agonized while pregnant that I suddenly wouldn't be able to work out after I had Amelia. The stories of how busy your life becomes after you have a child made me go over and over again in my mind what my schedule would look like and how I could squeeze in 45 minutes at the gym a couple of days per week. Since November, I've discovered that exercising is a big priority for me and when something is important to you, you make it work. And I have.

But I still didn't think I would be running this summer. I don't even like running.

No, really, I don't. I love to exercise. I think my step and spin classes are awesome. Running, however, is hard. I started running because it got me outside when it's nice out, and it's a good challenge for me. And, you can take running anywhere, no gym required. When I found out I was pregnant, I thought I would keep running, but the image of my little fetus bouncing all over the place in my womb, along with constant nausea during my first trimester, stopped me from that. So, no running for nine months. Then when I headed back to the gym after Amelia's birth, it was winter and I'm not a big treadmill runner. So basically, I haven't ran regularly for 15 months. It's like starting all over again. Who wants to do that?

Luckily, I have new kinds of running motivation.

• I'm not a fan of the morning daycare lady at my gym. I'm pretty sure she's going to let some toddler run over my baby. Then I'd have to punch her and I'm not ready for the big house. And, I don't like evening workouts in the summer. I want to get it out of the way so I can sit in the air conditioning for the remainder of the day.
• I like to take our dog for a daily walk, especially when I'm not working. If I'm already spending 45 minutes of my day with tennis shoes on, I might as well be doing my workout too.
• Aforementioned dog follows me around obsessively if I don't walk her. It's rather annoying. Hence the running when it's so hot that I could melt. It's better than having a 75 pound canine up my butt all day.
• Amelia generally enjoys our walks down the country lane, but sometimes she's just not in the mood. I call her my personal trainer because the more she fusses, the quicker I run. Picture Jillian Michaels as a baby and with less swearing. Or maybe my daughter IS swearing at me. I can't really tell yet.

More important than all of that, Amelia is seeing me work at something that does not come easily to me, and I think that's important. I was able to jog 4-5 miles at one point pre-baby, and I would like to get to that point again, if not beyond that. Maybe some day down the road she will even witness me train for a sprint triathalon or a half marathon. The sky is the limit when you have great coaches like I do: