Honesty.

Source: Uploaded by user via Maria on Pinterest

I’m going to be honest.
I have a hard time with my body.

The extra curves, the jiggles, the pudge where there was no pudge before.

I am my worst critic, and yet, I rarely do anything about it.

Maybe it is Rich’s fault, he says he loves my curves.

Maybe it is just laziness.

This month, my plan is not to get skinny. It is to get fit.

My birthday is in 25 days, and my goal is to fit in the jeans.
The ones I haven’t fit (sans muffin top) since before Teag was born.

This is my plan.
Care to join me?

Source: imgfave.com via Kaitlin on Pinterest

NaBloPoMo Day 2.

Every year I make goals for myself. I tell myself that I will eat healthier, I will get in shape and I will complete something off of my “bucket list”

This year I am actually accomplishing it.

This year I have started exercising. Something that I dread doing, but end up loving as soon as I get in the thick of it.

I struggle with making time for myself. Someone is always needing help, always needing a hug, always needing a snack. By the time I get a moment to myself I’m exhausted, and all I want to do is sit and veg.

Today I changed that. When the babies were napping I took an hour to myself, and instead of sitting and eating the bag of chips, I exercised. It wasn’t anything crazy (no p90X here!) it was just some good ol’ Wii fit plus.

Some yoga, some strength and lots of fun.

Tomorrow, I’m going to do it again.

Because I want to.

I have a few goals.

Number one is obviously to lose weight.

I want to lose 20lbs (I can’t remember if I mentioned that in my Battle Baby Bulge series)

Numero two, exercise every day.

Number three, try something new.

I have always wanted to start cycling.

Numero four, maintain my goal weight (130) for a year.

 

 

The post in which I trust.

When my anxious thoughts multiply within me,Your consolations delight my soul.
Psalms 94:19

•  We saw our precious baby on Friday.

“For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the LORD, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.” Jeremiah 29:11

• A beautiful baby.
• A baby who is measuring a week behind in terms of weight and development.
• A baby who is loved beyond measure

•  A baby who is already loved by his big brother (Little T pats my belly and says “Ba ba ba” and then kisses it. Melts. My. Heart)

Today we got a call from our Doctor.

I missed the first call, and called back only to be told that they made a “special” appointment for me on friday.

I asked if it was bad news.

The receptionist told me that it was nothing to worry about.

I wanted to call her bluff.

A mother knows when something is wrong.

Yet at the same time, I have a weird sense of peace in my heart. A God is with me, type of peace.

I did my best not to cry and stomp my feet, trying to get what I wanted.

I called HotBabyDaddy, told him that there was nothing to worry about. But that doctors don’t make appointments just to chitchat.

I finished making lunch for Little T and I.

The phone rang.

It was our Doctor. Himself. Not his receptionist. Not the booking lady. But our doctor.

He calmly asked me how my ultrasound went.

I told him aside from the baby measuring behind, I wasn’t too worried.

(The U/S tech told me that the baby was consistantly measuring a week behind. Not a big deal)

He then calmly told me if I knew what a cleft lip was.

My heart sank. But only for a moment.

You see, at the appointment I noticed something.

I saw that Bubsies beautiful perfect lips looked a little off.

I noticed that the U/S tech spent a great deal of time putting markings on my sweet babes face.

And more importantly, she (the U/S tech) told me that she needed to talk to the radiologist before we left.

I brushed it off.

Our Doctor told us that our precious, sweet baby has a cleft lip.

That’s why he wants us to come in on friday.

He told us that we will be refered to a specialist in the city.

That we will get more ultrasounds and see Bubsie more.

That Bubsie will have to have surgery.

I am not angry.

I will not ask “why has this happened to me”.

When baby has to go for surgery, I will worry.

But I will pray. And more importantely,

 I will trust that He knows what He is doing.

More information about cleft lips/palates can be found here:

Cleft Palate Foundation

http://ambrabuskirk.com/   (a blog about a little girl with a cleft lip)

Cleft lip and palate

Cleft lip and palate repair 

Cleft Stories

Party with my pants.

I had a dream.

Not a huge dream.

My dream was to fit in a pair of pants. My brand new pre baby T pants. My size 27 pants.

Today, on a whim, I tried them on. I thought I would need to tug and pull, shed some tears and curse till I could pull them up.

I was wrong. As I pulled them out all nicely folded from my drawer, I stared at them for a moment. Trying to think of the last time I wore these pants.

I was pregnant, and the pants were tight.

This time I slowly put my feet into the soft denim legs, and slowly pulled them over my thighs. Silently praying that they wouldn’t get stuck, again.

But they didn’t get stuck, they glided up and I buttoned the button with ease.

Now don’t get me wrong, I still have muffin tops. But I am one step closer to being the weight and shape I was before I had Baby T.

Current weight: 138lbs!!!

Prebaby weight: 134lbs.

I am so close I can smell it!

Pity party.

Today has been a no good horrible rotten day.

This morning was great, I started sewing while HotBabyDaddy went to the Remembrance day service in town (Little T was sleeping, so we stayed home.)  and all was well with the world.

Then we went to the inlaws.

I love my inlaws, honestly I do. My sister-in-law (I call her my Seeester) is one of my nearest and dearest friends.

But sometimes they drive me up the wall.

Usually it is when I am PMSing. (Whic FYI, is not the case for today)

I don’t know what it was today, but all I wanted to do was cry, or punch someone in the ovaries.

It didn’t help that I found out today, that we don’t get to go to Mexico in January (thanks AHS, I’m still p’od at you). I know, what a thing to cry about.

People are starving everywhere and I’m upset because I don’t get to go on a vacation.

To top it off, there hasn’t been much sleep here, Little T is cutting a tooth, and has an ear infection AND last night his breathing was so bad that we took him to emerg. Turns out the Dr thinks it’s asthma, we’ll see.

I don’t want to complain. I don’t like complaining. But sometimes I feel like no one around me is listening.

I put so much hope into that vacation. It was our chance to get away from this crazy little town. Our chance to introduce Little T to something new and exciting (not that he will really care, or remember). It was what was keeping me sane.

Lé sigh.

Either really angry, or constipated.

 

Three Months Later.

It’s been three months

since my jaw dropping (not in a good way) photos of me in a bikini were put on the web. Three months of eating semi-healthy, of randomly exercising, and of almost daily walks with a baby strapped to my chest.

I’m happy to report, that I am over halfway to my goal. I am over halfway to my pre-pregnancy weight, and it sure feels good. Currently I am at 141lbs (that’s what my wii says…) which I think is incredible. Considering in May I was 160.

Exercise, it’ a choice. Losing weight (for the most part, for me) has been a choice.

It scares me to know that I was that heavy. I know, that it really isn’t that heavy. But to me, FOR MYSELF, it is. It’s an insecurity I have, to continue being heavier than what I want to be. But right now, I have the choice. I have to choice to get up and do something about it.

I can use my  love of going for walks and riding bikes during the summer. And during the winter, where it is tradition to go sledding every chance you get, you know I will be outside (unless it is below -15c. Then you can find me in front of the fire place with hot chocolate!). Going skating on the pond, at night with a bon fire to warm you up on your “skating breaks”. To go cross country skiing (we’re planning on taking Little T with us!) at Lake Louise, or Banff, or hell even at the inlaws farm.

I choose to healthy.

What choice did you make?