still getting the swing of this...multiple kid thing..

not Kate Gosselin multiple, one plus one type multiple. I am finding there is a big difference between one kid and two kids......HUGE difference between one 13 year old and a newborn AND a 13 year old. My last month of maternity leave I am determined to get this mother thing down.. I WILL not show up to doctor's appointments three days late, I will not forget the items for my daughter's science project, I will remember the grocery list when i go shopping, and I will not get sidetracked by how flipping cute my son is...( i lose precious hours lost in his smiles..)

Instead, I finish my to do list with time to spare, dishes clean and put away, laundry baskets with nothing but lint..and a baby soundly sleeping in his crib... this is what I aspire to..

oh yeah, and I want to work out and be fit again and fit back into my jeans..I actually started the P90 X series, designed to over the course of 90 days...assist me in getting my sexy back, and on day four i have one recurring thought...

i like eggo waffles alot better than edamame.

In no particular order i have found new appreciation for -

the word anti aging

nightlights that keep me from tripping in my bedroom in the middle of the night..

le mystere nursing bras...allowing me to have a little lace in my human cow life

clothing that hides barf ..self explanatory

tv stations with a three to five am lineup....

baby wipes...suddenly handy to have all the time

flip flops =my bff

extra super thick mosturizing lotion...yep scales belong on snakes..

dimmer switches...

as i type my milk alert is happening...baby is hungry..blogging must wait...

while i go pull the milk truck up for my baby:) he's the one on the right in the brown...

till next time..

baby is here..fog is lifting..sort of..

having babies is not for the faint of heart, or the sane. On September 1st at 5:06 am my son entered this world fourteen days early and I joined the ranks of the walking comatose. Thankfully the mind allows you to forget exactly how the combination of childbirth, lack of sleep, breastfeeding, and the eupohoria of it all is enough at any given moment to make you collaspe where you stand. Sleep leaves your house as quickly as you depart your own bed for the couch. I dream of getting my sexy back but staring at my still plump figure in the mirror...understand that it will take more than hard wishing.
Baby sleeps and like most moms I stare caught in the rapture of my miracle, forgetting that precious sleep minutes are ticking away never to be seen again..my once pristine house now is worthy of a clean house makeover but all i can do is..
drink another soda and lean back further on my couch aka bed.
Did i mention I had a c section?
Yeah, about that. The shaking on the table, hearing my doc say " now stay really really still for the next ten seconds.." while he has my stomach open.. a little un nerving. Who knew this pain would have me longing wistfully for a vaginal birth?
Oh and my baby is wicked cute.
Although my skin is drier than a cactus, i keep drinking soda, because I can, and right now, fitness and health isn't my top priority. I eat when i can, what i can, and currently it's better than prior to birth, but not by much. As the haze disappates my desire to be fit and trim returns...

hurry up and wait syndrome, also known as..my baby's quite comfortable..

where he is.

In the last two weeks, I have called the doctor three times after hours and visited the hospital once in the middle of the night.

Yesterday I came close to taking on my OB doctor's office lead appointment maker, or whatever the hell her title is, who was too curious and not enough helpful.

It was hot, I wanted to see the doc and she seemed oblivious to the fact that 37 weeks pregnant, comes with a free pass to irrational land. Logic left during the second trimester.

Of course my due date hangs on my calendar more enticing than a Neiman Marcus yearly half off sale, but each day that brings that elusive day closer,

comes less sleep, more weight, and the oh so super fun..

pregnant waddle.

I'M NOT A DUCK! I DON"T WANT TO WADDLE!

I want to sleep on my stomach, have my hair do what I instruct it to, wear just one pair of shoes my feet don't slide into..and not have to be pushed in order to get up from my couch.

yet I know that I gave up these inalienable rights back on January 5th when that little bitty white stick revealed two blue lines.

STILL!!!

while i go slightly insane, my baby continues to be remain above the fray, choosing instead to sleep his way to his birthday, when not having drum sessions and football practices in my belly.

yeah i love it.

But I've cleaned the corners, folded, creased, washed, waxed, worried, screamed, cried my way to the finish line...

almost.

leg cramps and buckets of tears, and baby brothers

It was a wonderful day yesterday, all the way until, the switch turned and out went happy and in began waterfall number one of the week..reason not important or sensical. That lasted for about two hours until my explanation of why I was crying caused even me to laugh..

welcome to the home stretch. where logic has left the building.

I think back to every woman I know mother to more than one child and I want to personally call her and tell her...

she's insane or my hero.

back to the early am leg cramps...such fun...if going to the bathroom three or four times a night isn't enough, or the 2 am kickboxing class my son teaches...after all,

sleep is for sissies..and I am a mom..

and will there be a day when sleep finally returns..when my son is a toddler.. ?

THAT'S A QUESTION!!!!!

he has chubby cheeks like his daddy and my chin. and he grins alot ...thanks ultrasound..

his big sister is ready and dying with anticipation and i remember a similar feeling when my baby brother popped into the world, 11 years after me.

and I will walk, clean, eat, bathe, laugh, talk to my friends AND

sleep.

just maybe not all in the same year.

btw..that's my little brother on my lap..he's 6'4 now.

sunday morning freakout..

with my daughter, breastfeeding was anything but effortless. Frantic calls to my mom, the La Leche league and tearful pleas to my daughter ..made birth seem like cake in comparison. Now with less than eight weeks to go, I wake up on Sundays, with a fresh list of items to fret over., not made easier or shorter by tips, ideas and must haves from anyone and everyone that has ever birthed a child.

I remind myself that the most important components come included in the baby pack...baby..and love...and that most of the rest is extra stuff sent from a far a way planet to worry me...speaking of worry,

my belly is so big now I have two regions to my body...ab(above belly) and bb( below belly).
the bb region is now gone from my eyesight until further notice..i.e after my baby boy pops out.

my tattoos continue to stretch and stretch....but still thanks to the genetic God..still no stretch marks.

I'm back to reading to my baby, talking to myself ALOT more and constantly wrapping my head around being a mom of TWO kids.

why is it that i notice the most minute of dust particles but can step over an entire laundry room of laundry?

I require a good push to effectively get up from a seated position on my couch. And I haven't cried in the last 48 hours...

good way to start the week.

little gifts my baby boy leaves for his mom..

three pimples, wider feet and inablity to sleep longer than five hour stretches....groovy. I remain a wee wee bit on the grumpy/weepy/estatically happy side. Less than eight weeks to go, and each day hammers in the facts..

there is a baby in my belly and I am the mama.

Wowsers.

I read all the pregnancy books, listen with great sarcastic interest the " advice" from celebrity moms....I plan detailed projects..( this week's is to plant flowers in my yard) usually to be derailed by ..my lack of energy..kinda like ordering more than you can eat..although that is an awful analogy right now...

baby boy...

he hates ultrasounds..refuses with great intensity to reveal his entire unobstructed face..rests his head on his hand as if to say.." enough already momma I am busy"..what he does love is music like his daddy and some call them hiccups, I like to think he is giggling.:)

I dream in

belly 3 d...waking up checking to make sure it ( the belly) is still there..then a light nudge or push..so my boy will push back..just to know he is there and fine..

hot

isn't the term I use when I first look in the mirror in the morning..puffy, pregnant, shocked...much better choices...

and so it is..on a Saturday in preggoville.

add sweat to that list..

of lovely things that good ol pregnancy brings.....now sweat takes cover under my mountains..ala my boobs, my belly, my forehead,.. and all this within seconds after sleep hits..what gives?
did i mention panting like man's best friend while completing simple tasks such as grocery shopping? I've accepted that I'm not getting my sexy back until the leaves change...but do I have to like perspire like a mechanic from Phoenix in the summer?
ok enough griping..
let's see i love..
eggo waffles, ranch dressing, cheese pizza with way too much garlic, potatoes in any form, blueberry everything, spinach, my couch, reading and rereading every book on being pregnant, staring at our ultrasounds..guessing whether that was a foot or a hand, no periods, target, pears, other pregger women, my OB aka my new BFF.
my lack of stretch marks are made up with the cellulite that is accumulating on my butt..

and what's a little cellulite anyway? and Eggo if you're reading..i think i deserve a lifetime supply for all this good press..