Good for the Soul

After all that worrying, the doctor gave me permission to travel. I was soooo happy! This Girlfriends' Trip has been two years in the making. After the ups and downs of the past few weeks, it was a relief to know that it would include me & The Bun, after all. The thought of sticking around and using my PTO to go to the hospital and lab for checkups made me sick.

This trip to Hawaii was good for my soul. Well, I think every trip has been good for my soul. But this one more so than any other. I spent practically every moment w/ The Bun. I kind of wondered how that would go and, thankfully, it ended up to be wonderful. The Bun normally sleeps in her own bed in her own room so this could have gone terribly awry. But she was a champ! And we adjusted to being in one bedroom pretty well.
My three girlfriends also proved to be extremely helpful. They let me have some moments to myself, when needed. Collectively, we were able to give all the attention The Bun (as well as my friend's one year old) could ever wish for :)
Some photos from the trip:




One of my dearest friends bought leis for all the gals, grown and little.

 

My friend had the idea to cover The Bun in all the leis. Made for a pretty photo.




Visiting the glass chapel where The Man and I married four years ago.
To this day, I loved just about every part of our wedding.

 


As gorgeous as I remember.

 

Beach time with The Bun.




Taken on a walk around TBR grounds to help The Bun take a nap. It's no wonder people call Hawaii, "paradise".



Look at this toddler kiss. So sweet!



Us waiting for our last Hawaiian sunset.



Us at TBR's Monday Brunch.




Our last night at Turtle Bay Resort. Isn't it lovely?

 Being in one of my favorite places with some of my favorite people really helped keep my mind from thinking negatively. On one hand, sometimes it all felt quite clinical. After all, my pregnancy was never going to result in a baby. So when I think of it like that, it's not a big deal. It was always going to result miscarriage. It was just a matter of how the situation was going to play out.
Then there are other times when I think of it as, "I lost our baby". In fact, this is exactly what I said to The Man the night before I left when he saw me a little weepy and asked why. Because while, medically speaking, my pregnancy would never turn into a baby, our hearts were sure that we were going to have a baby born in December. We had already planned to change the home office into a nursery. I already got in my head that The Bun and our newest baby would be three years apart. How perfect! But I try not to think about stuff like that. What's the point?

As much as I love Hawaii and as much as it's one of my favorite places to be (and I have traveled in my earlier years!), this time I was also happy to go back. I missed The Man, our pups and our sweet little household. It's easy to forget that I live in one of the most desirable places in the world.While the Bay Area is sometimes chaotic, frenetic, and frustrating, it's also one of the best places to be. We have the city, the ocean, the bay, the cute suburban towns, the hills and mountains, and all the amenities one could ever need all within an hour away. Best of all, this place has many of my family and friends.

So yes, while I also have to work for a living (why can't someone pay me to be a fantastic individual, positively contributing to society?) which is kind of a bummer, I'm happy to back to what is considered my norm. 

But I definitely could get used to an biennial Girlfriends' Trip to Hawaii. I really could.

Hoping & praying that it is all done

I woke up at 5:30 AM this morning. My wonderful mama planned on coming over at 6:30 AM so we wouldn't have to wake up The Bun while I went to the hospital. Since we had a babysitter, The Man wanted to be with me rather than drop me off & then pick me up. I was so thankful. I wouldn't have blamed him for doing that because the wait would be a couple of hours but I felt blessed to have him by my side for most of the time.

Yesterday, the Chief of Obstetrics and Gynecology said to go to the hospital at 7 AM. The folks needed to start my process in the OR don’t get there until 8 AM! Not sure what the logic in that was other than perhaps a lot of folks wait to get admitted so he wanted me to be first? In any case, the pre-op nurses were so sweet and apologized even though it wasn’t their fault.

Well, I was then put on the books for 10 AM. 10 AM rolled around and we found out there were two emergencies which pushed me to 1 PM. 1 PM! Understand that I had not eaten or drank since the night before. Not even water! You can’t eat or drink 8 hours before your surgery which is fine if it had been in the morning.By 11 AM, I was so hungry and thirsty and I wasn’t even allowed gum. Or to swab my mouth with a water soaked sponge on a stick! I had a huge headache by then (probably had to do with the fact I also hadn't had coffee) and I was certain I would have a raging migraine by the time I was done.

Let me just sing Kaiser’s praises again. My anesthesiologist was an earth angel. Come to find out, he was the same one for my cesarean section from almost three years ago. He promised I wouldn’t feel a thing. He said I wouldn’t be knocked out but that I wouldn’t remember. Let me tell you, I started crying in the Operating Room because The Man couldn't be there with me and it was such an intimidating room. It looked like I was having major surgery (even though it's considered minor) with all the equipment and masked faces. But then, BAM. I was being wheeled back in pre/post OP.

I hadn't felt or remembered a thing. Ignorance is truly bliss. I thought I was still waiting to go into surgery and they had to reassure me that, no, it was all done. If that’s not being knocked out, I don’t know what is. But I was so glad. Then I was given a Vicodin drip, monitored for an hour and then sent home w/ more Vicodin. I was a little loopy but I proclaimed my love for Kaiser, my doctor, my anesthesiologist and my nurses. They made a bad situation bearable.

Well, excluding the six hour wait. That was crappy.

I continue to worry, however, that when I get my lab work done on Monday, they will find out that I do have ectopic pregnancy after all, did a D&C for nothing and still not get to go to Hawaii. The doctor, prior to the surgery, warned that this could happen. But she had said, visiting me after the surgery, that everything looked promising. They still have to run tests on the tissue she took out but she said it looks like there was an embryo (or whatever terminology she used.) Plus I haven't shown symptoms of an ectopic pregnancy this entire time. Typically, one would have major cramping, bleeding and/or nausea.

So there is still more to be done. I have to go to the lab on Monday to get more blood drawn. This is how they know that the D&C worked because my HCG level should be going down.

I hate that this is still drawn out but I hope and pray that the D&C worked. If ever I needed a vacation, it’s now.

What to expect when you're no longer expecting

There are just some things people don't talk too much about. Or, in this case, write about. But I think it's good for people to know they're not alone. So here I go. Writing about one of the dreaded words ...
Miscarriage.
I know quite a few women who have miscarried. Often times, at least what I've noticed among my circle, is that it happens the second time around. So I knew there was a chance. But boy does it knock you off your feet. There's really no way to prepare.
Just like w/ The Bun, I started documenting this pregnancy, my second one, ready to hit "publish" the minute I was at 12 weeks AKA the safe zone. I wrote how I had planned on telling The Man, how this time I was going to be very happy how I did the big reveal. How I wanted to make it special. And I did! He was surprised. He was scared. He was happy. We both were. It was a beautiful moment. That was going to be my second entry.
But then that weekend, I had stomach cramps. So even though I was only six weeks along, I scheduled an appointment with my doctor. Prior to seeing her, she ordered blood work. Upon examination and reviewing my results, she determined that I was probably just constipated. Silly me, I thought! How embarrassing. But then my doctor said she couldn't find anything in my ultrasound. I could be really early on but she thought it would be best if I continued to have lab work done for my HCG (human chorionic gonadotropin) levels because the initial results were low. Over the span of a week, I went to the lab four times. If you read any of my entries during my pregnancy or when I went into labor, you know that I do not enjoy going to the lab.
The Man accompanied me again at my next appointment. My doctor said that while my HCG levels were rising, it wasn't at the normal rate. Not at all what we expected to hear.
My doctor asked that I get more blood tests the next day. I got a call later that same day from my doctor. She said that my HCG level plateaued. Regardless of whatever pregancy I am having, it's not normal and will not result in a full-term pregnancy. She suspected I have an ectopic AKA tubal pregnancy. My doctor wanted me to go to the lab again tomorrow and then one more time on Sunday. If her suspicions were true, I would need to take Methotrexate: used to stop the growth of an early ectopic pregnancy. This would result in me taking it over the span of three days and then being monitored for two weeks, thus having to stay home rather than go to Hawaii. This started my pity party - because my doctor insisted I have an ectopic pregnancy, she said she couldn't recommend I travel. After all, I would have to be monitored.
No baby and no Hawaii? How shitty is that. After the shellshock, I was upset. I didn't want anymore tests. I just wanted to DO something already. Whatever I needed to do. Why wait until Monday? And I HATE the lab. I addition to hating just being there, it felt like my hope died each time I got my blood taken because I knew that the results would be no good. I was tired of it and knew that I would have to go several times after the procedure (when I was supposed to be in Hawaii) so why bother with these last two appointments?
I called my hospital and ended up speaking with a different doctor because mine was gone for the day. He reviewed my chart and said that I should come in tomorrow to see the OB-GYN available rather than just doing labs. I ended up meeting with the Chief of Obstetrics and Gynecology today. Before talking about terminating the pregnancy, he wanted to make sure it was indeed an abnormal pregnancy. After I went to the lab again, he sent me to radiology/ultrasound rather than just having a regular ultrasound at the OB/GYN department. After being at the hospital a total of four hours, I finally saw the Chief again. He had my lab and ultrasound results back. My abnormal pregancy was an absolute. There was no embryo in the gestational sac. I will inevitably have a miscarriage.
There were three options:
1) Letting me naturally miscarry. This meant I would not know when it would happen during my pregnancy and I could bleed a lot. So much so that I would need a transfusion. A bit too risky for them to recommend.
2) D & C. For those not in the know, it's also known as dilation and curettage, is a surgical procedure often performed after a first trimester miscarriage. Dilation means to open up the cervix; curettage means to remove the contents of the uterus. Curettage may be performed by scraping the uterine wall with a curette instrument or by a suction curettage (also called vacuum aspiration), using a vacuum-type instrument.
3) Taking Methotrexate. It's like pitocin for miscarriages. It prompts the process and I would go through all the physical symptoms of a miscarriage.
We decided it would be best for me to have a D&C. Mine is scheduled for tomorrow. Ah, here another part of the pity party. Tomorrow morning, I had scheduled a massage and facial as a Mama's Day gift to myself. They are far and few between now and I had thought it would be great to have one. I had to cancel it so I could have my D&C.
On one hand, it's a relief to have a resolution. As terrible as it is, at least there's an action plan. For nearly two weeks, I've been anxious, having my blood taken again and again, hearing that the news isn't good but there was no final word. Now there is one.
What I am scared about is that once I have the D&C and they take my blood a couple of days later, they will realize that I do have an ectopic pregnancy and I'll have to take the medicine that will make me have an actual miscarriage and I won't be able to travel after all. You may think it sounds shallow but after knowing that my pregnancy won't result in a baby, I really want an escape to one of my favorite destinations. I would rather NOT be at home, going to the lab every few days to make sure that my baby is gone.

What could have been but never was

(Written 4/27/12. Originally titled, "10 Days!" )

I'm pretty sure I know. According to my handy period tracker, I am ten days late. Yes, TEN.

Three days ago, I bought a pregnancy test. I plan on taking it on Saturday for confirmation. Just because I’m pretty sure doesn’t mean it’s absolute! But if my hunch is right, I’m going to present it to him in a pretty package. Washing it clean, of course.

A while back, I splurged and took boudoir photos. If I hadn’t been so reserved and insecure in my early 20s, I would have it taken it then. My body was rockin’! Hahaha, ok, not really. I was by no means a hard body but, as I’m able to reflect, it was nothing to be ashamed about. But I was bashful and that’s how it goes.

After having The Bun, I decided that I wanted to feel pretty. I wanted to take photos to give to The Man so that, when we got older and I got lumpier or saggy-er (heaven forbid, both!), he could look back at photos of his hot wife. Because, by golly, I was going to make sure the photos made me look good!

Don’t get me wrong, the reserved and insecure girl never went away. But I think she matured a bit. With that mindset, and the two glasses of wine the photographer provided, I took them. Oh yes, the package also came with hair and makeup … this was a must for me!

I just got the photos back earlier this week. Same day I bought the pregnancy test. So, if everything goes the way I think it will go (that there is, indeed, a bun in the oven), I’m going to package these photos in a box. I’ll have him look at them one by one and then, behind the last photo, will be the pregnancy test and some written remark of how he better cherish the body in those photos because it’s about to change. Again!

It’s so tempting to take the test now. But I’m going to wait until right before I plan on packaging everything up because I want to know right before he does. If I find out now, I’ll end up telling him! I guess it’s my way of keeping my own mouth shutJ Can’t divulge information that I’m not 100% sure about. Yet.

Shatty Day

And not just because it has to do with weight. Although, I will leave you will this picture to illustrate my frustration:

Yup, that's now I feel.

No, I went to the doctor's today and received really messed up news. Without going into too much detail, this is how it goes:

My follow up doctor's visit next week can go two ways - 1) All is good and that is that. OR 2) I will need to be monitored, my and The Bun's Hawaii trip will need to be cancelled and I'll get to spend it going to the doctor several times throughout the week (thus needing to be monitored.)

I am so frustrated. More so about that. But also because my weight spiked back up and I'm back to needing to lose 10 lbs. Does one have to do with the other? Not really so I can't even blame my weight gain on the shitacular news I received. What. The. Eff. I'm so upset on several levels.

Rectifying weekend gluttony

Ah, my body is forgiving me. I'm back on track. So, to refresh your memory, I had 10 lbs. to go. I didn't post it (because I had forgotten to) but I had lost roughly 2 pounds of that. Then all hell broke loose in the part of my brain that dealt with self-control and I shot back, causing me to be 11 lbs. from goal as of last Monday.
As I've mentioned before, I know 10 lbs. (+1) doesn't seem like a lot. But these are my last ten pounds on my weight loss journey. They are the hardest 10 lbs. I've ever had to lose. They are clinging to me like nothing I've ever witnessed before. So while it may seem like a measly 10 lbs. to others, for me, it's two to three dress sizes. It's the difference between my body now and my body when I first started dating The Man. The end result of reaching my weight goal is a comfortable size 4 for me. For real.

And I'm happy to report that I've lost a few pounds from my weekend of gluttony and am now 8.5 lbs. away from goal.
I'll take it!
Do I slip up? Most definitely. Hell, I just ate the Godiva Truffles someone at work left for me (I know, bad girl.) But I'm doing my best to not just be lackadaisical. I know what works for me and I need to DO IT.

Well. That first week didn't go very well.

It's getting hard for me to kick my ass in gear. ARGHHHHHHHH! Why am I not disciplined? I know exactly what I need to do and I know exactly what works produces results. Yet ... I don't do it.

But I'm not giving up. I can do this. Even though I sabotaged myself this past week, I can get my booty in gear.

On a happier note, it looks like I have a future yogini on my hands! While I would love for her to dance hula with my old halau (they recently started offering a keiki class - first time, ever!), I would also be over-the-moon if I could share with my baby girl what both challenges me and bring me serenity and joy:

She's a natural! Her form in downward facing dog is better than mine.

Focusing on the yoga DVD.

Balancing out the vinyasa with upward facing dog.

How cute is she?? I know it's going to be a couple more years before she can go to class with me but I hope she learns to love yoga as much as I do:)

10 pounds in 30 days

It might seem too aggressive except that FIVE of those pounds shouldn't be there! I had lost them.
And, like a federal agent, they found me again.

Seriously? Seriously?!
Ah, why am I acting shocked? I knew I was pressing my luck. My body was my science experiment. I was testing its limits, seeing what I could get away with eating without gaining weight.
Well, I'm back in the game. Time to go with what I know works. I got comfortable when I lost 15 pounds and went back to my old habits. So, in my mind, the first five are going to be easy but the last five are the ones that have been here this whole time.
But who's to say I can't lose them? I was certain that those other 15 were here to stay. I'm determined to NOT psych out. I will stop being my worst critic and start being my best cheerleader. As corny as it sounds. And I know it sounds corny.
You there, 10 pounds, pack your bags. You're about to get the boot!!!!

The Bun's Easter Weekend

I can't believe it's already Sunday night (Uh, so, I wrote this on Sunday. It is now Tuesday night, nearly midnight. It took a while from completion to publishing - no judgment!;) This three-day weekend flew by. What was nice is that it was all about my daughter this weekend.
On Friday, my day off (whooo!), we went for a morning walk with the pups. Then we spent the afternoon with her Nana getting all our hairdos done! The Bun was so good. She watched Nana get a color & cut, then me just get a plain cut and when my hair stylist turned to her and asked, "Would you like to get your hair cut, too?" The Bun replied, "Yes!" She sat oh so still as her hair was being trimmed.

 

(Bad Mama, I forgot to take a photo with Nana so we could have all three generations. But this is one of the things The Bun and I did while Nana got her hair done so we could stay busy. Next time!)

On Saturday, we went to an egg hunt hosted by a Mom from my old Mommy Group. I have to say that this the biggest reason I love Facebook. I'm able to stay connected with people I might otherwise lose touch with. My mommy group never meets anymore, I guess you could call it defunct, but I feel like we see each other all the time because we're able to keep in touch on FB.
It was so cute to see The Bun with this group because we all remember when we first met and our babes were literally weeks old. Last year, we have photos from their first ever egg hunt. Even though they were all over a year old, they didn't know what the heck was going on their first Easter. It was the first time they all were able to toddle about and actually participate in an egg hunt. (On their official first Easter, they all were only six or seven months old.) Last year was such a funny egg hunt because none of the kids knew what they were doing. But it was touching to see them up and about because, after all, we remember when they were fresh out of the oven.
This year, though - what a change! Sure, they still overlooked eggs that weren't really hidden but they were movin' and shakin'. What a difference a year makes! Rather than drinking from a bottle, being breastfed or eating pureed foods, these kids were eating snacks, drinking from juice boxes and were full fledged toddlers. My goodness. Of course, I took only a couple of photos on my phone which turned out bad. Wish I had a few to post:(
The next day was Easter. The Bun had a two social outings! In the morning, we met up with Jen, her hubby and her son, K. Although they just traveled literally across the globe just the day before, they met up with us on our side of the Bay for coffee and a play date. The kids were so cute. While they're still too young to play with each other, they enjoyed playing in each other's company. They were walking all around the two playgrounds, going down slides, swinging on the swings and just being really cute toddlers. It was a great chance to catch up with Jen. It seems like just a couple of years ago when we lived in the same neighborhood but it's been over 12! When we met, we were footloose and fancy free. Now we're both happily married, have awesome kids and pretty fantastic lives. My how we've grown up:) (Ugh, guilty again for not taking photos. I'm hoping that Jen's hubby captured some precious moments with his camera that he wouldn't mind sharing ;)
Around noon, we said our goodbyes because we both had family engagements to attend. I shook the sand off Ava (that's when you know it was a good time at the playground), put her in a wonderful Spring dress her Auntie Nene gave her and we were off in less than an hour for our next egg hunt!
Side note: I wish I had taken a photo of the cheesecake I made. I was quite proud of it. It was my first plain cheesecake and it was actually pretty!  And by "pretty", I mean it hardly had a crack. Not an easy thing to do with a cheesecake, let me tell you. In fact, changed my mind about decorating it with blueberries and fresh blueberry compote because I thought it was so nice. I decided that if people wanted it, they could spoon it on themselves. In addition to being pretty, it ended up tasting good. Phew! I was really worried because the recipe was for a PUMPKIN cheesecake. I had to switch it last minute because my aunt told me she had bought pumpkin pie already. I'm not an expert baker so I had no idea if removing the pumpkin portion (canned pumpkin and spices) would make it fall, too thick, watery, taste funny or whatever. I searched around for other recipes and just decided to add 2 tablespoons of flour as it was called in another recipe. But I kept everything else the same. Thankfully, it turned out A-OK.
Back to the egg hunt now:) The Bun had a splendid time! Her cousins, and her cousin's cousins, are all so sweet. Most were older than her but there were a few youngsters, too. What I love about these gatherings is that ALL the kids are sweet. Yes, ALL. Not a rotten one in the bunch. Not that I would post about that child if one existed but I just wouldn't write anything. ALL the kids are sweet and kind. The older ones look after the youngsters which I find so heartwarming. I love that my daughter can have a great time and that these kids include her. Often times with older kids, they'll just ignore the little ones. And I get it, they're busy and they want to play! I don't hold it against them at all. But when we go to these family gatherings, they bigger kids want to hold The Bun's hand, or help her with something, like put on her shoes or gather her things. It's just so sweet! She loves kids and her eyes light up when they include her, even if she's a lot slower or doesn't get everything they do. They remember to include her enough that she's happy. And I love that.
Thankfully, The Man was with us and he took his fancy photo machine and took some great photos:

The Bun in her Easter finery. (Piko gave a sniff test of approval.)

Because we have to have a shot of Pili if we have one of Piko.

The kids were lined up according to height so that the little ones had a fair chance of getting eggs. See what I mean? Such sweet big kids because I didn't hear a peep or complaint.

Mama realizing The Bun needed an assist.

These two were the littlest walkers
(We had a few smaller kiddos but the babies weren't at Walker or even Crawler status just yet:)

Look at them go go go.

Look at these smiles. So much fun.

These cheeks are made for kissin'. Don't you agree?

After a fun filled afternoon, we ended her weekend with a visit to Nana & Papa's house. With Papa's knee replacement surgery, they aren't up for any social gatherings. With The Man and me working full time jobs, it's hard to fit in quality time with them. So it was wonderful that we were able to visit, show them The Bun's Easter outfit and just talk.  The Bun loves her Nana & Papa and they love her so much.

The Bun had a fantastic weekend. And being the softie mama that I am, I'm so happy she was happy so it was a fantastic weekend for me too. I love my little family and am so appreciative of my outstanding husband, my amazingly sweet daughter, our two pups and our superb family and friends. My heart is so full.

Busy little bee!

Work has been so busy! I had more than 15 meetings last week and I swear all this week has been doing all my follow ups from said meetings as well as catching up on anything I missed while being out of the office. But I am finally caught up. Perfect timing because today is my Friday!
Bless my work's heart, they gave us tomorrow off. This little mama is finally gettin' her hair done. I am in for a much needed trim. I'm also bringing my Ma and baby girl. That's right, three generations going to the salon. How cute is that? I'll be sure to take photos like I did last time. Hopefully, though, they will be cuter!

Self diagnosed addictive personality

Only when it comes to certain things. Which is why this is entirely speculation and a self-diagnosis.
My Kindle is an oldie but goodie. Yes, my Kindle is from pre-iPad days making it one overpriced mother effer. Seriously.

But I can't really complain because my Kindle was a baby shower gift from my Mama. (My Mama is one generous lady. Thanks, Ma!) I'm only annoyed on behalf of my Mama because it was really insulting for Amazon to charge so much now that we know how far $500 can really go (ah-hmm, say what you will about Apple but they really kicked Amazon in the tail.) Oh well, lesson learned.
I do still use my old Kindle, though! While we have an iPad, it's used mainly by The Man. I tend to use my work PC laptop or my iPhone. The Kindle makes an appearance now and then but I usually have to tuck it away because I have this fault. If I really like I book, I can't put it down. I know, many people have this issue. But it can get in the way. I will be up until 2 or 3 in the morning just so I can finish a book and find out how it ends. I know, it's just plain silly. But it's a huge reason why I put it away and don't read for a while. The Kindle revolutionized the way we read! Before, we would have to buy a book at the bookstore or check it out of the library. Now we can download a book in less than a minute. The accessibility to new-to-you literature is mind-blowing. And can be very distruptive to a person's schedule when the person is like me and has to finish the book.
So my dear Kindle has been in my bedside table for quite some time. Until I gave in to the masses and read The Hunger Games.

What a great book. I really liked it. So much more than Twilight (not winning any points with you literary snobs, am I?) I finished it one day so that night, before I went to sleep, I downloaded the second book so I could read it as soon as I woke up:

It was a blessing and a curse that I was not disappointed. Usually I lose interest in a main female character and it's because, unfortunately and typically, the character turns out to be helpless or indecisive. I can't stand that. But all the characters remain strong, including the lead female character. Love that.
Using all my control and frankly, it helped that I was ODed on books after a weekend, I decided that I was going to wait through the work week until April 1st to download the last book of the trilogy. A big reason why I decided to wait was because I was eligible through Amazon Prime to check out a book for free at the beginning of each month. Oh, Amazon, there you go winning me back again. You're just too amazing for me to stay away.
So yesterday I downloaded the final book:

I started reading around 8 PM and got done at about 1 AM. That's right. I just had to finish it. HAD TO FINISH! As I continued reading I knew that I should stop. The book would be waiting for me! But no, I just had to find out the ending and was soooo tired this morning.
This is why I don't read as much as I used to. Well, this and because I have a 2 year old daughter.
But I'm glad I got caught up in The Hunger Games frenzy. These really are good books and I highly recommend them! They are entertaining, easy, yet smart and well-developed.
(Although, who am I really encouraging to read these? I'm probably one of the last people to read the series!)

I wish I could be every woman

The perfect wife, the perfect mama and the perfect career woman. Oh yes, and the perfect sister, relative, and friend. Alas, that is impossible. But one of the things (one of the MANY things but I'm a realistic person) I want to be better about is cooking more for my family. By cooking I mean easy recipes or uncomplicated slow cooker recipes.
I have found some awesome bloggers on the internet who buy ingredients for the meals at the beginning of each week and share these menus on their blog. Love that. Why? Because most of them are busy women so they don't choose meals that take a lot of time but they are tasty and somewhat healthy. Sweet.
I don't promise to share what I'm cooking each week because, again, I'm realistic. But this is what I  planned this week:

http://www.campbellkitchen.com/RecipeDetail.aspx?recipeId=50684 (I liked this OK. I might make it again but it wasn't a favorite.)
Thai Lettuce Wraps:

http://www.colleenandkeith.com/2011/09/thai-beef-cabbage-cups.html (Her recipes are usually straight forward and very tasty! I just subbed the cabbage for lettuce because I like that better. I've made this many times and it IS a favorite. Thanks, Colleen!)

http://crockpot365.blogspot.com/2008/12/crockpot-lobster-bisque.html (I've made this before and liked it. The lobster tails make this a pricey meal but it's good every once in a while. And super easy! This is a treat for this weekend.)
At work, we're having a potluck and I think I'm making this tonight:

http://www.americastestkitchen.com/recipes/detail.php?docid=19363 (They really are the best blueberry muffins I've ever had. Yum!)

OR I'll make this:

(Sorry, no online recipe. Got it from a friend!)

I also made taco salads earlier at the beginning of the week. That was super easy - ground turkey meat with taco seasoning, shredded lettuce, shredded cheese, low-fat sour cream and sliced avacados. I'm not a fan of tomatoes but that would have been good with it.

Anyway, as I mentioned, these kind of posts will be far and few between but I thought I'd share:)

Time for a change

Decided to change it up a bit. I debated paying for a personalized blogger template because I love the blogs that have photos of the writer in the header. I even got a quote. But it was a little pricey and I think The Man would find it frivolous. Plus I'm not blogging for income so I'd feel a little guilty making a somewhat big purchase just for my personal viewing pleasure. I haven't completely ruled it out but this will do for now.
I dug around and this is what I came up with. Wish I had taken a screen shot of my blog's old appearance just so I could remember but what's done is done.
I think I also needed to reinvigorate this blog to reignite my interest in writing so hopefully this does the trick. Blogs have certainly captured my interest again because I've found great hair and makeup tutorials along with really good recipes. And by really good I mean super easy and, often times, calling for the use of a slow cooker:)
Here's to seven more years of journaling my life - my family and friends, my mishaps, my dreams, my crazy situations and all the memories I don't want to forget.

A remarkable photo I had to share

Please read my prior post so you know where I was and in what weather. Then check this out:

One of my FB friends wrote that this looked like one of those mayhem commercials by All State Insurance.
Thank goodness no one was hurt. Kind of a miracle considering how crowded this part of San Francisco is with both drivers and pedestrians. After this tree fell, a portion of Columbus was closed for hours. What's also freaky is I drove down this street moments before when the tree was still up and there was no indication that this was going to happen! I was looking for parking and was jealous of all those people that managed to find such good street parking.
And all I could think when we left the taped off area surrounded by police, when we were done ogling and taking photos, was that this poor Camry owner left his/her car feeling pret-ty lucky to score such awesome parking in North Beach. Dang.

PS: I am all about parking garages in the city and absolutely love them. Its worth saving me the time trying to find street parking if it's a highly congested area. Not to mistake garages for the random, unpaved parking lots. Why? The garage I parked in on North Beach was $9 for 3 hours! Random lot we passed was charging $25 flat fee. It's not always the case but I find garages a lot less and you park it yourself so no valet! Lots park cars like they're puzzle pieces and you often have to wait while they find keys and move all the cars blocking yours.

You know you are a tired Mama when ...

You love San Francisco but you love it a little less when it looks like this:

Who am I kidding? I was somewhat dreading this night even before I knew it was raining like crazy.
A dear friend from college is visiting and wanted to get together. She sent out an evite way back when to ensure we would all save the date. It's for a dinner in the city. At 8:00 PM.
This means me going from the Peninsula, where I work, to the East Bay, would be ridiculous. And The Man, while very sweet and caring, felt a little jipped when this event came around because he had been spending several weekends taking care of The Bun while I was sick. And then last weekend, we ended up spending it with my parents because my Dad is in a rehab center recovering  from knee replacement surgery. And The Man has a right to feel jipped. He hasn't had any time for himself.
Oh, and did I mention last Friday was a friend's birthday dinner? I wanted and had to go!
This is my dilemma. I go out a lot less now that I'm a Mama. Way back in my early 20s, I went out almost every weekend. That lasted two years. Typically, especially when I was in a relationship w/ my now hubby, I went out maybe twice a month with friends on the weekends and the occasion happy hour during the work week. I had hula class and practice 2x/ week. But it wasn't a big deal since I'm much more of a homebody than anything else. Then I had a baby. I've drastically reduced my gallivanting (including hobbies!) because I've got a baby to raise.
But even though I rarely go out, it's still more than The Man. Because he is a homebody and somewhat of a loner.  I'm not complaining! I love spending time with him and am glad I don't have to compete with friends. It's awesome! He is so generous and loving.
What I struggle with is that I like to be fair. I'm all about 50/50. And it's just not 50/50 because I go out with friends. I'm way more social. I like routine. So I go to yoga once a week. I go out 2x/month with friends. Do the math, this is a drop in the bucket. But, again, it is 100% more than what The Man does.
Friends tell me to stop feeling guilty. They say that it's not my fault or his fault that this can't be 50/50. It's all about preference. But I do feel guilty because he's incredibly generous and loving and I want him to have what I have. But he doesn't really want it. We tried designating a day and time for him so that, while he doesn't like group fitness classes, he could go biking or running. Or just futz somewhere outside of the house.
But it somehow didn't work out. I think because he wasn't beholden to someone else's schedule, like an instructor or a buddy, it wasn't easy for him to keep a scheduled appointment. Even though it was his schedules free time!
Anyway, this weekend is supposed to be his weekend. And I think what was the problem in the past was that he wanted to stay home but if The Bun and I were home, there was no way he could ignore us. Or hole up in a room. So I'm doing my best to take The Bun out of the house and be out for most of the day on Saturday and Sunday. He can hopefully feel like he's getting back some of his time and relax in his own home. He deserves it and I want to give this to him.
In the meantime, I'm now packing up at work and heading out. In the rain. To go to this aromatic joint:

Heaven help me. I adore my friend and know that I need to be a good friend and celebrate with her. No excuses! She came all the way out from Texas and asked for just one night for us to hang out! But I am dreading going to North Beach in this downpour. Blech.*

*And this is how I know I'm not the party gal I used to be. I loved going to San Francisco, rain or shine. Now I would much rather be home in my jammies come bedtime!

Lets start the day with an uplifting story, shall we?

My Sister shared this story on FaceBook and I had to put this up on my blog. While it is a few years old, Patrick and his dad's story is so inspirational. The love and sacrifice his father, mother, and I'm sure the rest of his family, is beautiful. In addition to being inspired, it also gives me perspective. As I get older, I truly do appreciate my life and my blessings more and more. And stories like Patrick also help me remember to be thankful and to wonder, when I face challenges, are they really that difficult? Is it really that bad? And how can I conduct myself in a manner which will only better myself and the others around me?

I know life can really stink sometimes. And I don't belittle anyone's challenges and adversities. Quite honestly, when I hear the news, I'm disgusted, disappointed and afraid of the world in which my baby is growing up. But with beautiful people in the world like Patrick and his dad, their stories reinstate the faith I have that most people are genuinely GOOD.

Futzing around with technology

This is how I decompress. I futz on the internet. Prior to FaceBook, MySpace and Friendster, I had blogs to peruse. And, of course, there are gossip sites, shopping sites, travel sites, and, really, I could find hours upon hours of things to look at and piss away my time. And now there's even more to look at! Uh, hello Pinterest?
When The Bun was an infant, it was OK for me to be on my smart phone or laptop. In fact, it was a great way to pass the time when I was breast feeding or pumping. Or when she was napping But a little over a year ago, The Man called me out. Rightfully so. He said he made it a point to not be on his iPod Touch or iPad when spending time with The Bun and he thought I should do the same. This ensured we had quality time with her. I fully agreed. I made it a point to not be on my laptop. But man, does that smart phone make it easy for me to slip up!
Here's the thing. I'll hear an email alert. Or, when checking the time, I'll see a notification on my FB app. Or one of my other apps. Or I'll receive a text message. Or, and I also trick myself into doing this, I'll take a photo, upload it to FB and then want to read the comments. Full addict confession: One thing leads to another and there I am, browsing the internet or scrolling down my FaceBook page.
I feel so guilty! There isn't much time to have QUALITY time with the Bun. I mean, we already have the TV distracting her, we're both working parents so our weekdays are cut short. So on the weekends, what is my bloody excuse?
In addition to putting it out there that I need to lose those last 5 lbs (I have been hovering between 5 and 7 pounds for months and have been too ashamed to post it on FB), I shall also declare on my blog that I will be stricter with myself and limit my iPhone futzing time to the bare minimum when The Bun is around. I mean, as soon as she goes to bed, The Man and I are already jumping on our electronic devices! Why can't I show some restraint when she's around? She deserves a Mama who is giving her full & undivided attention. Well, that's a lot to ask since we don't live in a bubble but how about a Mama who is focused on her and not the internet?
 I already don't talk on the phone unless it's neccessary. I will allow myself to answer texts and important emails. I just need to make sure that I don't get lured by my apps' notification features. I can do this!
(And, dammit, I can lose those last 5 lbs! For crap's sake, I am below pre-baby weight and wedding weight. I would just like to be at the weight I was when I met The Man. It's a reasonable goal since I've weighed less than that when we were dating. I just know that my goal weight is attainable. If I can just get TO IT.)

Crap, we're losing an hour

Sleep is a valuable commodity in our household. We take it VERY seriously.
So much so that we put The Bun to bed at 6 PM this evening to prep for the time change.
Mmm-hmmm, seriously.
Lately, she has been grumpy when I wake her up around 7:30 AM. (and she is positively upset on those days when I have to wake her up earlier.) That's about 12 hours of uninterrupted sleep for her. Yet I'm usually waking her up rather than her already awake, waiting for her day to start. This makes her grumpy.
It's taken me weeks to figure this out but I think The Bun needs more sleep. Serious. Because, on the weekends, we let her sleep in an hour or two more and she is a lot happier in the morning.
So we decided to bump her bedtime up a half hour. We will do this tomorrow night.
With the time change, heaven help us. Shouldn't be a big deal but, as I mentioned, sleep is like gold in our home. Nay, like platinum! But a Happy Bun makes for a happier morning so I think, in the end, it's going to better for us.

Latest obsession: Makeup. How old am I, anyway?!

I'm acting like a school girl. Lately I've been fixated on makeup. Specifically, eye makeup. I've even started a little section on this blog to link to other blogs that talk about fashion and makeup.
I know exactly when it started. It was mid-February and I was really upset that my favorite mascara was discontinued. [If you could give two craps about makeup, you'll want to skip this paragraph. Or this whole entry, for that matter.] I didn't wear much makeup - foundation (Bare Escentuals Bare Minerals & Mineral Veil), blush, and mascara. The two I never leave home without is my foundation and mascara. So having my Clinique Waterproof Mascara discontinued rocked my world.
"You've got to be kidding me," you say. I wish. My eyelashes are fickle son-of-a-biscuits. Not only are they straight but they actually point downward. So I curl them. The thing is, most mascaras are too wet and straighten out the curl and I'm stuck with straight lashes. I found that I needed waterproof because it was usually tacky but the only one that really kept the curl was Clinique Waterproof Mascara.
When I learned it had been discontinued, I lamented in a FaceBook status update. That's when I got all sorts of suggestions. Having been disappointed by many drugstore mascaras in the past (and drugstores having poor return policies), I decided to buy the Lancome Hypnose. For $26. Which was nearly double what I paid for my old mascara. And THAT'S when I became obsessed with eye makeup. Drugstore makeup. Why? Because, while I make a decent living, the following (but not limited to) deplete my income: day care, necessities for a 2 year old, property taxes, minivan payments, care for 2 pups, groceries, utility bills, and more. Sadly, I'm not even the bread winner. The Man pays a little bit more in our household bills. I can't invest in nor am I interested in high-falutin' makeup. Thus my fascination with drugstore makeup. Especially after all the online research I've done which resulted in me finding fashion editors, writers and bloggers stating that there are many high quality drugstore makeup products on the market now. Right on, right on.
In the past month, I have bought four types of eyeliner, BB Cream, eye primer,three brushes, two lip glosses and concealer. The only reason I haven't bought mascara, what started this all, is because I am determined to use my $26 mascara until it is all done. Then I'll try drugstore mascara!
 My internet searches in finding the best rated drugstore eye makeup also led me to "how to" videos on YouTube. I've always wanted to wear eyeliner but was intimidated so I hardly ever wore it. And, if I did, I would painstakingly put it in only to have people tell me later that they never knew I was wearing any. I wore brown so that it was subtle. Evidently, it was extremely subtle.
For the past week, I've worn what I think is much more dramatic eyeliner every day and, although I'm not content with how it looks just yet, I figured I should keep practicing until it's perfect.
Obsessed, I tell you.
It sounds silly to get all worked up from having my mascara discontinued. But I think there's a bigger picture. See, I completely identified with one of the bloggers I now follow (she's #14) who described herself as, "A new mommy working on getting her sexy back." My baby is two years old. Which is about how long it took for me to get to prebaby weight. And, frankly, I hadn't felt sexy in a very long time. Probably three years. Because I wasn't one of the fortunate women who felt sexy while pregnant. Three years is a long time to not feel the least bit attractive. A friend said it may also have to do with breastfeeding. She said that it was really hard for her to feel sexy while she was bfeeding because she felt like a cow. Reflecting, I think it was probably the weight, the working boobs and lack of sleep that lent to my feelings of unattractiveness.
But now I care. I don't feel like I have to put on makeup, rather, it makes me feel better and I like that I'm finally trying to master something I was uncomfortable with. Sounds so silly but I had always been intimidated by eyeliner and I'm excited that I finally figured out which products I like (if you're curious, it's Prestige pencil eyeliner and Wet n Wild creme eyeliner) and I think that I will eventually perfect an eyeliner technique very soon.
I'm telling you. Like a schoolgirl, for crap's sake. But I don't care. I like it. It's an inexpensive way for me to feel more attractive. Meow.

13 hours of OH. MY. GAWD.

Look how cute and inconspicuous it is

I have this really cool app on my iPhone. It's attractive, fun and, best of all, it does what I want it to do. It tracks my lady time. It also estimates when I'm ovulating and fertile. Now that I'm not on birth control, I have no way of tracking my Power Week. [Insert Superman theme, if you will.]
Really, it's too darn cute. There is a banner held up by butterflies which floats serenely across the screen (how could it not be serene?) that reads, "Period Day 3" or "10 days until Period" or whatever it may be. I showed The Man after telling him all this because he thinks I sometimes get too excited over nothing or I'm easily amused (to be fair, I am) and, after seeing it, he replied, "It really is a very nice app!"
I don't lead folks astray.
Anyway, I don't look at it very often. In fact, this past Monday, I thought to myself, "Hmm, am I late? Because I could swear that I should have my period by now." I opened my handy app because, after all, this is its purpose, and saw the banner held by butterflies float across the screen with the writing, "5 days late."
Say what?
SAY WHAT?
My heart flip-flopped. I know that we were planning for this. I mean, this was why I no longer took birth control, right? Letting nature take its course, right? Sure. But HOLY CRAP. We did it. Again.
I, of course, sprinted straight to The Man and shoved my phone in his face and yelled, "I'm late!" Let me just say that yet again, I failed to present him with this kind of big news in a thoughtful and creative manner. I always mean to and even daydream of how I would do it. But no, I just damn near smack him over the head with it. Like this.
Anyway, I saw his face as he processed the information. First wondering if I meant I was late for an appointment. Or a play date I had scheduled way back when. Then I saw his expression change from puzzled to a face of joy.
"Right on!"
Yes, that's definitely a statement you want to hear from your significant other. On the other hand, this is what I was saying:
"Oh my gawd, what are we going to do? How are we going to sleep? How am I going to sleep?? I'm the one who can't sleep! How am I going to get two kids ready in the morning and myself and get them to day care or their grandparents AND get to work????"
I kid you not, I was shaking.
Being a parent is a complicated thing. You want it. It's awesome. It's rewarding. Yet it is one of the hardest things you will ever do.
I couldn't sleep that night. My mind raced, thinking of how I would manage it all. What's my game plan? I know that we can do it but how will we do it? I'm a planner. I can't control a lot but I will prepare everything I possibly can.
Then I got my period the next morning.
I was disappointed. Sure, I had worried all through the night but we did it! We were going to have a baby.  For roughly 13 hours, I thought I was going to bring a baby into this world in less than a year. I thought about doctors' appointments, eating better, preparing The Bun, all that stuff.
But it's OK. It's not our time yet. And the lesson to be learned from all this? You really should download the app. It's pretty cool.

Love

I don't need no stinkin' Valentine's Day to feel the love.
It does, however, remind me how blessed I am. Here's the thing. I know myself. I'm happier in a relationship. I'm terrible at getting out there and I'm awful at dating. But I also would rather be by myself than be in a relationship for the mere sake of having someone. I was a late bloomer - I didn't date in high school and then I was in two serious, long-term relationships. Since my current relationship is the second one, and since this year will mark a decade with The Man, one would argue that I've never been by myself or only very briefly. But I have, for the first 17 years in my life and roughly two years between my two serious relationships.
This is why I count myself blessed. I know how hard it is to find a person. And as someone who doesn't believe in games, or in complicated, torrid yet romantic relationships, I very well could still be single if I hadn't met The Man. Because he has taught me a lot. Our relationship has taught me a lot. A few gems:
1. Love isn't complicated.
I don't care what anyone says. You figure out a way to uncomplicate it. You stop seeing other people. You don't keep other relationships that would enable you to cheat. You make time if you really want to make time. You truly can figure it out. And if it's that complicated, is it real love? Because very rarely is it the two of you against the world. It's you two against each other that makes it heart breaking and exhausting.
2. Falling in love is easy. It's staying in love that take work.
Love takes a lot of effort whereas falling in love can almost be effortless. Love takes patience, consideration, forgiveness and a plethora of other things that require you to rise above and be a better person. You have to figure out how to be content without taking the person or your relationship for granted. This is pretty tricky and, honestly, I work on this constantly. Why? Because love takes work! Like how I brought it back to my hypothesis?
3. When you're in love, the person still turns you on & simultaneously melts your heart years later
I'm hoping that this stands the test of time. I think The Man is quite hubba-hubba and after all these years, he still floats my boat. I still sometimes look at him and am amazed I captured his interest because he surely could have had anyone. He's smart, kind, handsome and successful. Come to find out, he's an excellent family man, too. I am over-the-moon in love with The Man.
So, on this overrated holiday, these are my thoughts about love. It's uncomplicated but it takes a lot of work. And if it's true, it's for life.

I'm not as granola as I thought.

Yoga is my outlet. Especially nowadays because my free time is limited and I've had to narrow my choices down. I go about once a week. I wish I could go twice but I take what I can get.
My point: My one class a week is precious to me. I know, I know, yoga is all about peace, love, harmony, acceptance and anything else good and loving. And I usually leave class feeling like I want to give a big bear hug to the earth because I feel one with the universe. (It's true.)
But when something disrupts my practice, I get irritable. I mean, really irritable. Quite frankly, there is this huge internal battle going on in my head. I'm upset because this time is extremely precious to me - I am doing one of my favorite things with one of my favorite teachers in my favorite studio. It's damn near perfect. But the perfection is disrupted by a hostile invasion. Well, just about any invasion is hostile which is why I'm irritable. Anyway, the other side of me, the yogini who wants to be loving and accepting, is upset with my irritable side for being upset. I mean, how hypocritical of me! Acceptance means to be accepting of everything because aren't we all striving for the same goal? To have a beautiful moment through yoga? Isn't this a semi-public space? (Open to all but you do have to pay.) Aren't we about peace and harmony???
Let me set up the picture for you.
I try to arrive 5 to 10 minutes early because the class fills up. I'm somewhat a creature of habit and like a certain spot in the room. I also like my space. What I like about my studio, and hope doesn't change, is that there is usually enough room for everyone without having to be so close are mats touch. I don't need too much personal space but I can't have the person next to me sweat on my mat. Feel free to refer to this entry if you need a refresher about my feelings on bodily fluids. I also like being close to the mirror so I can check if my alignment or poses are off. I know, I know, some yoga buffs think mirrors are for vanity and maybe they are but I think they're great for self-correcting, too.
Anyhoo.
My instructor promptly started the class on time and three minutes into it, I see HIM walk in. Keep in mind, I wouldn't even focus on or judge him except he, in just a few seconds, will greatly affect my yoga experience. HIM. This slender, decent looking guy who strutted in the class a few minutes late. He was without a shirt and wearing tie-die snug yoga pants. Not too snug but obviously meant for some serious yoga. OK. The shirt thing - well, I do have a preconceived notion about those who come into class shirtless or wearing a sports bra (cocky moh fohs) but I try to keep it in check. My instructor taped me on the shoulder and said, "I'm sorry to interrupt you but could you make room for _____?" (I forgot his name but, to be nice, I probably wouldn't put it in this entry, anyway.)
I begrudgingly made room. As I shift over, I have an obstructed view of the mirror. Damn. Dude rolled out his mat and joined us in downward dog. I should state that he looks like a poster boy for Vegan-ism. What does that look like? Well, I know Vegans. And they don't necessarily look like Dude. But he is what I imagine a Vegan would look like. Very Berkeley-esque. Huh?? If you're a Northern Californian, I could probably stop there. But let me go into further detail for you other folks. He had rumpled hair and he was very natural looking. He kind of looked like he just rolled out of bed. Since he was shirtless, I could see that he had hair on his chest as well as his back. And the tie-dye yoga pants just sort of sealed the deal.
So he went into downward dog. I instantly smelled a smell. Not pungent but definitely body odor. If you don't know what I mean, you are blessed. It wasn't like he was homeless but I don't know when Dude took his last shower. Or perhaps he just didn't believe in deodorant. Don't get me started on the whole "believing" thing. Either you use it or you don't. There's nothing to believe in. It exists! In any case, his natural smell easily wafted over to my mat.
Awesome.
But then CHECK THIS OUT. A couple minutes later, I was accosted by the smell of spicy sausage. Wait. WHAT??? No, that must have been accident. Wait, did it just happen again?! Did someone eat a polish sausage right before class? Oh-hell-to-the-no.
Obviously it was presumptuous of me to conclude that Dude was a Vegan. I honestly don't care if you are or are not. Unless you are affecting my restaurant choices because we're eating together. But you dared to eat spicy sausage before a Yoga class and now are burping?????? You strut in late, shirtless and aromatic, force me to move my mat over and are now overwhelming my sense of smell???? How DARE YOU.
Oh yes. Dude proceeded to intermittently expel silent but deadly burps throughout the entire yoga class. I never knew when I was going to be accosted by the spicy sausage smell or the light BO smell.
Ruined. My yoga class was ruined.
The love and peace side chastised my conservative with thoughts like, "Did he ruin it or did you ruin your experience because you refused to simply ignore and move past this challenge? Maybe you're too conservative and uptight." I tried! I promise I really tried!!! I was within two feet of someone with body order and spicy sausage burps!!!!!
When I came home, The Man said he could instantly tell that something went awry in class. When I told him, he sympathized and agreed that those challenges were simply too hard to ignore.
I see the humor. Which is why I'm sharing it with you. But dammit if my yoga practice didn't get bamboozled by a hairy, unpleasant smelling, spicy sausage-lovin' yogi.

A long time coming.

The Bun is about to be introduced to a tradition. One of my most favorite traditions, actually. Up there with Christmas. It started here, here and here. That's right, Girls' Trip! Way better than Girls' Night Out ;) Our third dearest friend joined us the second time because, while it was for a wedding, we arrived early so we could have some quality friend time. Then I got married, thus our third one but, unlike my friend's wedding, I didn't have a lot of time to hang out with friends :(  Then there was my last Girls' Trip with them in 2009 before my planned pregnany w/ The Bun.
I've missed two more trips due to being a mom and/or insufficient funds. But my two girlfriend made me and another girlfriend, who has never gone with us, promise that 2012 would be our year. All four of us would go. I made the lofty promise of going and bringing The Bun w/ me. When it was time to plan, I thought about going back on this promise. I knew that I would get little sleep and it wouldn't be relaxing. Although one of my friends also had a child she's going to bring, who is less than a year old, I figured she could strap her kid on her back versus me who will have to be in the hotel room by 7:00 PM.
I underestimated my friends.
They planned to rent a condo so that the moms with kids could comfortably lounge with everyone else in the safety of our condo versus two us being holed up in a room w/ bebes while the other two went out gallivanting. In addition to attempting to have the four of us have our own room, they were working their hardest to have a champagne vacation on a Budweiser budget.
Bless their hearts, they pretty much did.
So The Bun will be attending her first Girls' Trip this year. And I, after a three year hiatus, will be joining my girlfriends. I am so excited. One of our goals (in addition to having lots of fun, relaxing and making tons of awesome memories) is to get The Bun & Baby hooked so they look forward to Girls' Trips too! Well, the less-than-one-year-old baby may not remember a lick. But we can work on The Bun.

I thought it would be easier than tying my shoe laces

It's about to get real for a second.
I thought we would get pregnant the nano-second I was off birth control. I mean, when I got pregnant w/ The Bun, we were extremely lazy in our efforts. He basically looked at me and *boop!* I was pregnant.
It's been a few months now yet no double lines. If you've ever had a scare or been trying, you know what that means.
I don't know how to feel. I'm disappointed but not devestated. Just wondering, though, if things have changed down there. (Told you, R-E-A-L.) The Man isn't worried but is kind of surprised that the oven is still vacated.
I'm happy, though. Really happy with life:) I'm also a planner so this has thrown a wrench in my timeline. Hmm.

You know, I won an award for this.

I don't know if I've ever shared this but I won an award in graduate school. Best Writing in my graduate program, son. Ya' heard.
OK, OK, I'm 100% certain there are errors in just about every entry I've written. But it's true, I was awarded Best Writing way back when. I knew I was a decent to good writer but not confident enough to ever enter a competition. It was only because of one of the professors reviewing my graduate project recommended I submit an excerpt from my project. So I did. And I won.
I write less and less as the years go by. I used to write for one of my past jobs - grants, print materials, proposals. But now I hardly write. All I really have is this blog.
I think most people blog because they like to write. It's an opportunity to freely share one's thoughts and express oneself to the whole wide world through the world wide web.
I've missed writing. I worry that, just like most skills, it's something I've lost over time because I haven't practiced. Do you know I knew APA style like the back of my hand? OK, not that well but pret-ty well. Now I don't remember if I put the period before or after the parenthesis.
Know what else I miss? Having a hobby. I love yoga and am able to take a class once a week but it's hard to fit it in my schedule more than that. But this year, I'm going to express my interest and see if my studio needs my help. I'm not interested in teaching but I'd like to submerge myself more in the practice. Perhaps through writing? Maybe fund raising. Either way, I'm going to figure it out.
I'm also promising myself to write more so maybe, one day, I can win another award :)

Fallen off the wagon

I know I put it on my Facebook page but I haven't written about it for a while. In fact, this was the last time I wrote about it. I won't go into details because I don't want this entry to became an advertisement but, in short, the Dukan Diet works for me. IF I stick with it.
Of the 10 lbs I had left, I lost some more and only had four pounds to go. Then plateaued. Then I survived the holidays and somehow slipped back into bad habits. I gained a few pounds and now have to lose seven pounds. Yep, I backtracked.
It's so frustrating because the only thing truly standing in my way is ME. I know what I need to do and I know that it works. So WHY is it so hard for me to do it? And this is when I bash myself. I get mad at myself for being weak, lazy and undisciplined. But, as we all know, what good does that do? Nothing. What's that saying? Crazy is doing the same thing over and over expecting different results. Or something to that effect.
OK. So this is where I change my thought process and not revert to my self destructive ways. I will go back to what has worked for me not that long ago. I will post something on FB because putting it out there somehow works for me, I will be better about planning what and when I eat, I will be more diligent about walking, yoga and working out with The Man. And I will loose these mother effin' last seven pounds.
I will.

Wrapped around her chubby little finger

The Man has a military background. He joked, when I was pregnant, that we would be all about corporal punishment. Well, I knew he was half-joking but I also know he would not stand for a bratty child. If that meant time-out, so be it. If it meant spanking, well, I don’t think he would have ruled that out.
And then she was born.
He doesn’t call her his princess (Thank goodness. I just have weird feelings about that particular nickname.) But you bet that she rules his world. Sure, The Bun melts my heart, too. But I think it may actually cause The Man pain when he sees her cry. And heaven forbid if, while she’s crying, she wails, “Daaaaaa-deeeeeee”. More often than not, he gives in.
This may alarm folks. “She’s probably a spoiled, rotten brat,” you whisper. We are blessed, people. Our daughter is not a problem child. She is actually very, very sweet. I have it on good authority from grandparents (bias), aunts, uncles & friends (semi-bias), day care (could be bias but is not) and strangers (unbias) that The Bun is one of the sweetest toddlers they’ve ever met.
For real.
If you keep up with this blog, you know that the first year was a struggle for me. I felt like I was barely holding it together but people reassured me I was fine. Later, because I’m related to and friends with some of the best people I’ve ever met, they told me that they thought The Bun was a super easy baby and that I was lucky. But they didn’t want to tell me because they didn’t want to negate my feelings AKA worrying. Instead, they were reassuring without being condescending or dismissive. (Told you, these people are keepers.)
My point is that my daughter’s easy-going nature and sweet disposition may be part nature as well as nurture. I mean, when a baby is challenging (colicky, irritable or just the opposite of “easy”), it is unfair to blame the parents. The baby is just working things out and having a damn hard time adjusting to the world after the comforts of the womb. I feel the same could be said for easy going babies. I think we lucked out because The Bun was a very even-tempered baby. But let me give credit where credit is due.
The Village. It really does take one. And mine consists of me, The Man, both grandmothers, a grandfather, and day care provider. (Shout out to the outer circle who contributed to this village and were there if needed like other relatives and very good girlfriends of mine.) Yes, we were blessed with a sweet baby right out the gate but this village nurtured that sweetness and made her the kind and loveable child she is today. These people helped so much by creating a safe environment where she could grow and flourish. Truly.
Does she have moods? Absolutely. She is a normal two year old with a temper as well as overwhelming feelings of sadness when she doesn’t get her way. At least, that’s what I think is going on when she flings herself to the ground, sobbing. But I am having more fun with her than ever before. I want to kiss her all the time and have tons of fun with her and The Man. All right, all right, I guess she has us both wrapped around her chubby little finger. I just think it takes me a little longer to crack ;)