Ridiculous Incentives

It was bagels and schmear that got me out of bed this morning. 
I am trying to stick to a routine of waking up early to go to the gym and work out and be able to shower and have some me time, all before Gracie wakes up at 7:30 (ps, I hate you Daylight Savings Time, your throwing off my daughter's sleep schedule).  As it gets colder, waking up early gets harder.  I was actually awake already when the alarm went off, and I didn't exactly fall back to sleep, I just didn't want to get out of bed, for 35 minutes I thought of reasons why I don't need to actually get up this morning, or why I have legitimate excuses not to (the baby woke up at 3:00am and kept me up for 10 minutes, it's going to be a sunny day - I can run later, I could just make today my off day, and the list goes on and on). 
But then I remembered that at my gym, the second Tuesday of the month is Bagel day, and you can take as many as you want, and they're good.  At that thought I sprung to action.  I couldn't miss the opportunity to get free bagels for my family for breakfast.
Gotta get my money's worth for the gym membership, right?

Pretty Girl

My little girl is pretty, and goofy.   Here's a random selection..

 

 

My daughter is not a racist

We were starting to wonder, but she proved otherwise. 

Thanks for your patience with our small one, Kwame. :)

Judge Not Lest Ye Be Judged

In an attempt to repent of my ignorance I have written the following statement of admission:

I plead guilty to the following offense: 
Judging a mother for letting her young children watch "too much" TV. 

At one point my assessment of "too much" TV watching may or may not have even constituted as just a little more than none at all. 
Before I had children I had a vision of being a super parent, with learning activities constantly up my sleeve ready to keep MY child's attention. 
Now that I am a parent, my previous vision is slowly fading into a more realistic picture. 
Sometimes I just need the baby to sit quietly and stop climbing in the dish washer, in the dryer, in the trash can, in the toilet, pushing the chairs around, getting in the fridge, pulling out all the books from all the shelves, all the tupperware, pots, pans, bags, towels and washclothes from the cupboards and drawers and just stop stop stop stop stop.
I love my daughter, every moment of every day is not like that (but there is usually a moment in almost every day where she is like that). 
So, I committed the offense of which I have unrighteously judged against.
I turned on the TV.
Not only that, I searched for a show that would most keep her attention.
I taught her to watch TV.
Today I washed the dishes, tidied up the kitchen and switched the laundry while my busy toddlerbaby sat peacefully on the couch crunching cheerios and hugging her teddy mesmerized by the picture and sounds coming from the television. She sat for at least 25 minutes.    (Sesame Street, it's genius)
I can't say that I'm proud of it, but at the same time I'd be lying if I didn't admit that I am elated by the thought that she doesn't have to be asleep in order for me to get something done without my little buddy at my heels, literally pushing and pulling me along.

Online Shopping

We decided that we want to get Gracie her own little chair for Christmas, while we were shopping on amazon for baby/toddler chairs we found this one:

Very cute, eh?  (it's not the one she's getting)

The chair only had one poor review, here's what it said:

2.0 out of 5 stars Dissatisfied, September 28, 2011

LUKE: This review is for: Trend Lab Ultrasuede Club Chair, Red (Baby Product)

I'm afraid that I have to say that this chair is not at all what it appears to be. I was under the impression that it was for an adult. Turns out, it is child-sized. You'd think that they'd put that in the description somewhere...


HILARIOUS!  Just imagining this guy receive a baby chair at the door made us laugh with tears for a solid 10 minutes, it still gives me the giggles. 

Gross

Welp, it happened. 
I knew it would, I just hoped it wouldn't. 
Gracie tasted dog poop today.

I don't really like dogs, and I even more dislike irresponsible dog owners who don't clean up after their pups.  In fact, one of the few things that I dislike about our apartments is that they allow pets, I'd rather they didn't, then there wouldn't be any dogs around, and therefore, no dog poop.

However, doing away with dogs wouldn't solve our poopy problem all together.
Gracie stuck her finger in her own poop.  After doing her business in her potty chair she quickly got up to see her product and touched it before I could swoop down and save her finger.  
She was probably very confused at my bi-polar display of emotions - going from YAY Gracie!  Good job pooping in the potty to NO Gracie don't touch it! Bad!   (Luckily that experience has not resulted in less usage of the potty)

The little babe has got to learn that yes, everybody poops, but no we do not need to touch said poop.
Gross.

hiccups

I feel like I can truthfully brag (if that's the right word for it) that I get the hiccups far more often than the average human over the age of 2 (babies definitely beat me on this one).
Although I often execute the usual methods of getting rid of the hiccups, such as holding my breathe, drinking lots of water, thinking really really hard about the next upcoming hiccup and some more breathe holding and water drinking, nothing really helps; the hiccups leave when they want to leave just as they came when they wanted to come. 
I've found though that no one really seems to be bothered by somebody elses hiccups, in fact, they're often revered as humorously cute. And, I can't deny that I do find ways to be both cute and humorous, so I suppose the hiccups could be counted as a blessing, if they're contributing to my likability.
But when I am awaken from a lovely slumber at 2:23 am with uncontrollable hiccups that refuse to yield, I must say, all cuteness that may have previously existed completely ceases.
This time, the hiccups went too far.

laughing at myself.

I'm number 1478 on the waiting list for a reserved book at the library.  I could just buy the book, but I'm not in any hurry to read it, and I'm cheap.
I'll just wait for the free version. 

I'm a mom

As I was picking up Gracie's toys this morning, a task I do 3 or 4 times a day, I couldn't help but think to myself, I love being a mom.  There is nothing in this whole world that could replace me and my role as Gracie's mother.  Even more, there is also nothing that could replace the joy that Gracie brings to my life. 
Additionally, I love being my husband's wife. 


I pity the women who spend their lives complaining about their role as a wife, mother and homemaker.  I am doing the most important job, I'm the rock of our home and my family needs me, even though my work isn't glamorous, exciting or monetarily fruitful.

These two best friends are my best friends.

Beach, Tupperware, Collages!

We went to the Beach on Memorial Day, and I learned that I can download a free photo program and make a collage.  hurray!

Gracie is crawling around everywhere.  I had to rearrange our cupboards so that she can pull whatever she wants out of them without breaking anything.  It's fun following her around all day picking things up so that I don't trip and break my nose.

Perfect Driving Record

I got pulled over today.  I deserved it.
Don't you hate that feeling after you've handed over your license, registration and proof of insurance, while the cop is back in his car doing who knows what, wondering: Am I going to get a ticket?  How much will it be?  Should I go to court or just pay it?  Where am I going to get the money to pay it?  How much will my insurance go up now?  Is my husband going to be mad at me?  Why couldn't my baby have been bawling when he came to the window? How long does this take? sheesh

I've only got one ticket, and it was in Puerto Rico, on my mission, it was embarrassing.
But that doesn't mean I've only been pulled over only once. Oh, I've been pulled over many a times.  But I seem to have this way with the policemen that makes them always want to take it easy on me.  That's why I'm the primary driver in our family.

So I shouldn't have been surprised when the officer handed back my license and said:
"I didn't want to mess up your perfect driving record, and you've got a little baby"
I thanked him sincerely, we chatted a little about the neighbors in the area who had made complaints which led him to monitor that street and he sent me on my way.

I love being a woman.

13.1

For Mother's Day, I gave myself the gift of health and endurance.  I ran 13.1 miles (on Saturday May 7th).
It was amazing.  My dear friend Angie trained, and ran the race with me.  She is a rock star.  I swear that woman never gets tired.  She was full of energy the entire race, which was great for me because I had someone to keep up with, and ended up finishing the race over a minute faster per mile than we trained for.  I expected to finish in about 2 hours 40 minutes (i'm slow), and instead my end time was 2:14!  It felt great. 

The course was amazing, it ran through all the cool parts of Columbus click here if you're interested.

So here's what I learned for the next race:
Don't drink a lot of water 1 hour before the race
Go potty twice
My bladder isn't as strong as it once was

lol yes, I may have had a small uncontrollable trickle during the last few miles of the race.  My only goal was to run the whole way, and stopping at one of the porta potties did not fit into reaching that goal.  
I ran my hardest, I have no regrets or if onlys. 

Goodbye my good ole trousers

This is a letter to my favorite pair of jeans.

Dear Jeans,
I purchased you in 2001, my freshman year of college.  You were hip and made my bottom look hot.  I loved slipping my legs into your 98% cotton 2% spandex blend.  You traveled with me from Virginia, to New York to Hawaii and back home to Utah.  I left you behind, tucked safely in a box, when I went to Puerto Rico.  When I came back to claim you, you were a little more snug than when I left.  I pumped and I sweat in order to fit loosely into you again.  After I got married, I gained too many happy wife pounds, and could no longer bare to tear your tiny threads as they stretched across my legs.  Again, I had to say farewell until I was able to fit into you again.  For three long years, although unseen, you did not go forgotten as I regretfully purchased larger and larger pants. 
Finally, yesterday, May 4th 2011, I pulled you out of the box you had been hiding in for years, and slipped you on.  To my astonishment, you fit!  I have been working hard, running, sweating, and declining many sweets so that I could see you again.  But, the sad truth is, I just don't like you anymore.  You are no longer fashionable, you have bleach spots, you have frayed bottoms, and are thread bare in other places. So I must bid you adieu, donate you, and never see you again.  I hope that the next person to wear you has many happy times in you.

Lovingly,
Sabrina

I'm a runner

It's only been about 2 years since I chose running as my exercise of choice.  And honestly, I didn't really even like running then, it just happened that with triathlons you can't skip the third event, running.  I much more preferred swimming and biking.  In 2009 I completed two triathlons, and a couple other small running races, just for fun, with my mom. 
All the time I spent running for my training always felt like a chore, I ran because I had to. 
After I gained way too much weight during my pregnancy and realized that it wasn't coming off, I signed up for a half marathon.  I needed something that would force me get healthy.  I totally stalled my training.  I wasn't looking forward to hitting the pavement (or in most cases, the treadmill).  Grudgingly, but dutifully, I did eventually follow a training schedule.
Then, after 5 months of chore training, I finally realized that I looked forward to my runs. 
I started running just for fun on days when I had already done my scheduled training. 
I itched for Skylar to come home so I could take off without the jogging stroller.
And I look forward to Saturdays when I do my long runs. 
Today, I ran 11 miles, and it felt great.
My race is in two weeks, and I fully intend to continue a similar schedule after the race is over. 

I love running, and I've never felt better.

Baby Led Weaning (BLW)

This is Gracie at 7 months eating real food:

On that tray is sliced tomato, cucumber and strawberries.

I read about BLW on one of my natural parenting forums and it just sounded like the right thing to do.  So here's a little summary of what I've learned.

History of baby food: Feeding children pureed foods didn't start until around the 1950s when mother's started getting busy and less interested in breastfeeding and there was a boom in making processed foods, which people were super excited about.  Formula was created and the folks believed that man-made food was better than nature made food.  The thing is, while our modern formula still doesn't hold a candle to breastmilk, it wasn't even remotely as good then as it is now, so babies that were fed formula were extremely malnourished and had to get food from somewhere else.  So some parents had to start spoon feeding their 6 week old little ones pureed vegetables and fruits, because obviously they can't munch on a carrot stick as a newborn.  Of course a nourishment need became a marketable commodity, and viola, the invention of bottled baby food. 

What I've learned and experienced with BWL: When Gracie got old enough to be able to start trying foods other than milk, we got pretty excited.  I don't think anyone will argue with me that it's just fun to see your child grow up and experience life.  I found that spoon feeding Gracie seemed like more of a chore than it was enjoyable for either of us.
At this age, she gets all of her nutrients from milk anyway, so solid foods are really just for fun and practice; so why not have fun and practice eating real foods?  We started out really cautious, just letting her lick a piece of fruit or vegetable we were eating, but she started getting more aggressive and wanted it for herself.  So we started giving her her own pieces of food, and she loved it. 
At first the baby will just lick and suck on the food, they really don't get much from it, but it's fun for them to explore different textures and tastes.  When Gracie figured out that she can actually bite a piece of pear off, I got a little nervous, but, it turns out babies are still really smart and she'd just spit out the pieces.  Babies have a sensitive gag reflex, so normally their bodies won't let them swallow something that won't go down properly.  After a while, they get better and better at eating.  Gracie can now eat a whole strawberry, almost a whole piece of a pear, and most of anything I give her, depending on the texture.  She likes tomato slices because they are soft and she can gum them down and swallow much of it.  I've given her every fruit or vegetable that I have on my own plate and she does what she can with it.

Meal times are messy, but they're tons of fun.  I love that I know exactly what she's eating and don't have to wonder if it's really just mashed green beans in that glass bottle.  

After we eat, Gracie gets a bath in the sink, and she takes washing down her meal into her own hands.

Babies are more resilient than we give them credit for.  Unless there are known allergies in the family, or if the baby has health problems then you don't need to worry about giving one food at a time with a week in between introducing a new food like the doctors recommend.
The big no-nos for babies are salt (their kidneys can't handle it yet)  honey (there's risk of botulism) and sugar (obvious reasons). Cows milk shouldn't be given until the child is 1 year old, at which point it should be whole milk.  If you give your child juice it should be 1 part juice to 10 parts water. 

And that's just about all I know. 
One other bonus that we've enjoyed is Gracie's poops have become super regular which really helps with EC, so she hasn't had a poopy diaper in a long time.  I think we're both pretty happy about that.

The Big Three Oh

No it is not my birthday, and no I was not born in 1981.  I have lost 30 pounds. 
Thirty pounds.
That's a lot of weight. 
It's more than two Gracie's.
I fit into my skinny girl shorts today, of course I've got to slim down a little more for them to look good, but nevertheless, they fit.  I was shocked.
In addition, I ran the furthest distance of my life today.  8.5 miles.  It was a little slow, but I didn't stop or walk. 
I'd call that some serious progress.

Give me my pants back!

By the end of my pregnancy with Gracie, I had gained almost 50 lbs.  I was convinced it was because I had a huge monster baby inside me, and the rest was water weight.  HA! I couldn't be more wrong.  Baby G came out only weighing 6 lbs.  When she was two weeks old, I had only lost about 16 lbs. of actual baby weight, and then I was stuck.  I would get so mad when friends of mine, who had their babies, 1, 2 or 3 months after mine would announce, very shortly after the birth of their babes, that they were already back in their pre-pregnancy pants.  yay for you guys.  When Gracie turned 2 months old, I was still wearing my maternity pants because they were all that fit.  How depressing! 
Finally I had to accept the fact that I'm not like my skinny friends.  Breastfeeding was not a weight loss key for me, and I had to start literally working my butt off if I ever wanted to take control of my body again. 
So I stopped buying pre-made cookie dough, I learned how to bake my own whole grain bread, and I registered for a half marathon.
I can't count calories, it makes me crazy and if I'm thinking about food all day, then I just want it more. 
I try to eat only whole, real foods.  I avoid processed foods as much as I can.  This has made me learn new recipe, as well as change my tastes.  I keep around plenty of fruits and veggies and I drink a lot of water.  I eat either a salad or a green smoothie for breakfast.

And finally, finally, my little girl is 7 months, and I am down 26 lbs, and 3 belt holes.  And yes, I pulled out my jeans again! 

Family Health Update

I just feel like writing this post because if I ever read back on this blog as the story of my life, I will want to know the outcome of my illness this week.  So it turns out I just had a 24 hour flu thing.  I never believed in the 24 hour flu.  Literally.  I thought it was a myth, or food poisoning. But I really was just sick for seriously 24 hours, to the minute.  I got sick around 4:00 while I was at the zoo, went from feeling great to suddenly being punched in the stomach, I felt well enough to go for my short 2.5 mile run that evening, but my crazy leg pain wasn't because of my run, it was because of the flu.  I know this because Skylar contacted the exact same thing I had the next day, he started feeling sick around 4:00, couldn't sleep all night because he was achy, spent the day throwing up, then was better by dinner the next day, around the same time he started feeling ill.
I cant' say whether or not Gracie got any form of the flu as well because she got some shots the day Skylar was sick and was acting a bit unhappy, but I couldn't tell whether it was from the shots, or the flu.  She never threw up, just acted clingy, sleepy and achy. 

oh where oh where has my she-lion gone?

I practically never get sick.  In the four years I've been married I can count on less than a whole hand how many times I've felt really down in the dumps.  Two of those times are today, and about 3 weeks ago when we all had something icky.
I didn't ever realize how healthy I was until I married my sweetheart, who, bless his heart, gets sick probably 6 times a year.  And I never do anything different around him, and I never catch whatever he's got.  In October 2009, hubby got the swine flu. I didn't even catch the sniffles.
So far, it seems that Gracie has been blessed with my she-lion immune system that catches and kills anything within arms length.  Her daddy got sick the week she was born, being a new and excited father he couldn't resist but to still hold her and love on her.  And being the admiring wife of that new daddy, I couldn't resist how cute the daddy daughter pair were, so I didn't intervene.  Gracie was fine, she didn't get sick.  Daddy got sick again a few months later.  Again we didn't do anything different, and neither of us she-lions were slowed down.
At 5 and 1/2 months Gracie picked something up from somewhere else, and much to my dismay, she got her mommy sick (and to no one's surprise mommy got daddy sick too). 
And now. I don't know where it came from, but I want it to go away.  I feel absolutely disgusting.  I ran only 2.5 miles last evening and hurt more than I ever have after much lengthier and more strenuous workouts.  Then I couldn't sleep all night either because my screaming legs woke me up or because I felt like hurling.
I'd take a bad cold over a nauseous tummy any day.
Please please she-lion, come back!
 

To regret or not to regret. That is the question.

I've come up with a new theme for my choice making. 
Regret.
As in, which would I regret more, option A or B? 
I think about this every time Skylar nudges me at 5:00am and says, are you going to get up and go to the gym?
And I think to myself:  No Thanks, I'd rather stay in my warm bed.
Then I ask myself, which will I regret more, staying in bed? or getting up and working out?  As tempting as it is to stay in bed, I know that I'll be happier if I get up. 
So I do (most days). 
I find myself in a similar situation with eating chocolate.  Nearly every hour I hear my head having this conversation:
What do you want more? The brownie, or the skinny body?
This one is a toss up.  Sometimes I want the brownie more, sometimes I want my skinny body back more.  Unfortunately, in this case, I'm really asking myself the wrong question.  I should be asking the same question as I do when I'm in bed.  Would I regret eating the brownie more than I would regret refraining from the delicious chocolatey yumminess?  In that case, I would say, although I really really really want the chocolate more than I want to meet my goal (in that very second), I do, at least, know that I would regret it promptly afterward.  Thus, I would choose not to partake. 

You see, this is how my inner devil tricks me. I need to be more consistent in thinking about which option I would regret more rather than which one I happen to want more at the moment. 
Gotta think big picture.
Or in my case, skinny picture?


P.S. I'm not like most girls who has their pregnancy weight melt away by only breathing and breastfeeding.  For me it's been a hard, grueling process, but I'm getting there. So far, I've lost 17 lbs, only 11 more to go until I'm at pre-pregnancy. (then 10 more after that to really satisfy my vanity)