Just 20 Minutes to the New Me!

Lately I have been wanting to lose this dreaded baby weight.  I thought by now I'd be well on my way to my best body ever, but unfortunately, that is not the case.  As the holidays approach, I look down at my tummy and it seems to resemble the contour of Frosty the Snowman or Santa's "bowl full of jelly" more than I'd like to admit. 

Ideally, I would like to have an hour or so at the gym each night, but somehow that never ends up happening.  Life gets in the way.  By the time my husband is home to watch my son, I've already started dinner and prepared Carson for bed.  After dinner I am all too comfortable sitting on the couch watching "Bing Bang Theory" enjoying the peace that comes with a sleeping baby.  So, another day seems to fly by without exercising. 

I know what you're thinking. "Why not just jog with your baby in the stroller during the day?" And, sometimes I do.  But... it's just different.  I don't seem to get the same workout. 

Recently I have been going on a run around the neighborhood for around 20 minutes each evening.  What's 20 minutes to take time for myself?  How could anyone deny me 20 minutes?  I notice it's a lot easier to ask for 20 minutes to take a quick jog than it is to get in the car, go to the gym, and come home. 

20 minutes seems like nothing.  My husband is quickly willing to take Carson or pick up with the dinner routine when I say it's only 20 minutes that I need.  In his mind, it is not even enough time to watch a full episode of "Seinfeld" or enough time to waste all his lives on Candy Crush.  So,  I usually get my 20 minutes without any complaints.

(I should mention my hubby does help more than just 20 minutes a day.  I do get time away while he watches Carson.  But, on a normal night, even when he has Carson, I am still in mommy world watching them play and enjoying our family.)

The initial reason I started this 20 minute jog around the neighborhood  was to stop giving excuses--even if it was just a measly 20 minutes.  But, it has actually turned into so much more:

My 20 minutes begin.  Shutting the door behind me, I leave.  I leave the diaper changes, the feedings, the crying, the laundry, the dirty kitchen floors, the exhaustion, the chaos--I leave it all behind as I lift my head up and let the Florida sun shine on my face.  I walk through my front yard toward the neighborhood sidewalk putting my earbuds in my ears.  I click on the Pandora app on my iphone and choose Rhianna Radio, which, by the way, happens to be the best station for all the kick-butt women songs!  There is an immediate release of endorphins as my blood starts pumping and my feet move faster one in front of the other. All my "mom worries" seem to be lifting off my back.  I feel lighter.  My outlook on the world is no longer a small scope but a panoramic view. 

I love working out to a really good song.  It's amazing what music can do to one's mood.  I start to imagine myself breaking it down on the dance floor of an imaginary club or belting out a song on stage in front of Randy Jackson.  The song recently that has quite possibly even made me fist pump the air mid-stride is Katy Perry's song, "Roar":

"...I got the eye of the tiger, a fighter, dancing through the fire
Cause I am a champion and you’re gonna hear me ROAR
Louder, louder than a lion
Cause I am a champion and you’re gonna hear me ROAR
Oh oh oh oh oh oh
You’re gonna hear me roar..."

I am transformed in an instant.  For just a little bit I am not just "mommy", but so much more.  I am hip and cool (I realize just by saying those words I am quite the opposite, but this is my own dream world!) I am sexy.  I am woman.  I am super-woman. 

Although tired, I seem to pick up the pace a bit as I near the end of my jog.  I imagine I am on "The Biggest Loser" while Jillian Michaels yells in my ear,  "Don't give up.  You can do it!"

I'm back on my door step.  I feel good... really good.  And not just because I worked out, but because I got a moment for myself.  A moment (or more like 20 minutes) to realize that there is so much more to me as a woman than just the role of mother and wife.  I start to aspire more for myself.  Things like working hard to obtain the body I deserve to have, get out in the community and serve, or spend more quality time with my friends.   

I open the door to my house.  It is exactly as I have left it, but the point in which I see it has changed.

I kiss my baby's face all over and then look to my husband and say, "Thank you, I needed that."

I Can Have a Life, and a Baby too!

Being a first time mom and a stay-at-home mom, my life truly does revolve around my child.  My day revolves around Carson, when he wakes, when he eats, when he naps...you get the idea.   I have fallen into role of "mommy" wonderfully in terms of taking care of my child, yet my social life has taken a deep plunge. 

I see some moms who continue on in a way much like their lives before children.  They attend college football games, constantly post pictures of travel and date nights, and somehow already have amazing post baby bodies, too!

A normal daily outing for Carson and me consists of a trip to Publix or a walk around the neighborhood.  A BIG outing consists of a play date with another mommy and baby or, on a rare occasion, out to dinner. 

I know I am in the category of worrier/overprotective mother.  Hey, it's my first time and I just love the Cuddle Monster so much! I cant help but worry.  I WISH I could be more carefree and adventurous with my child.  I mention these other mothers all out of PURE JEALOUSY.  I could easily obtain the lives I envy, but I somehow always have a range of excuses that hold me back.  The excuses go something like...

"We don't have family members that live near us to help out."

"We don't have day care."

"I'm still breastfeeding."

"We don't want to spend money."

"Getting a babysitter (stranger) is scary!"

...and the one I notice myself saying the most...

"I don't know if Carson will handle (insert activity here) well?"

So, the revelation that my baby and I can handle A LOT more than I give us credit for came when our family went to go visit my best friend. Leave it to the best friend to teach ya somethin'... and she doesn't even have kids!

It was going on the side of WAY-TO-LONG since I've seen my college bestie/sorority sister.  We somehow would try to plan a trip to see each other and then the plans would fall through.  Finally, we just decided to pick a date, put it on the calendar, and hold to it. 

So my husband, 7-month-old baby and I packed our Ford Edge far more than we needed to for a weekend get-away, and we were off on our 6-hour trip from Jacksonville to Pensacola to visit my friend, Olivia, and her husband, Bentley. 

One of the many things I cherish about Olivia is her zest for life.  She makes me get out of my comfort zone.  She always has. (That's probably why we have LOTS of great stories to tell from our college adventures!) So, visiting her was nothing short of busy and fun!  I wanted so badly to hang out with my best friend and be the mom that went with the flow.  But each activity that we did, I had terrible anxiety about how it would turn out. Here's a list of the many things we did during the roughly 36 hours we were there...( all with baby in tow!)

Friday:
-arrived in town late and ate Bentley's amazing cedar plank salmon while sipping on wine and laughing about who knows what.... Carson even stayed up till 11:30

Saturday:
- went out to eat for breakfast
- attended a walking tour of historic downtown Pensacola, FL (Carson only had one almost accident involving a hundred-year-old piece of china in one of Florida's oldest homes!)

- went home to regroup and pump breast milk
- walked around the Seafood Festival in downtown Pensacola
- headed to a bar to watch the Florida State football game

(O.K. here is where I have to tell you my mommy anxiety meter was burning bright red. I was pretty impressed by how much we had done throughout the day so far, but a BAR?

This is how the scenario played out in my head when I heard we were taking Carson to a bar to watch the game:

I walk in to the dark smoke-filled packed bar cradling my baby while being pushed from all directions until I find a seat to sit with my child.  Everyone is staring at me thinking how awful of a mother I am to have a child in a bar. "How could she?!" Beer is sloshing everywhere while people are yelling and cheering at the television screens.  Of course, Carson is crying!

Reality:

I walk into the open, clean, sun-filled room where everyone is sitting at tables eating lunch pleasantly watching the game.  It's just like any sports bar on an early Saturday afternoon; all different types are there to watch the game, families included.  It's relatively quiet while Carson, Olivia and I walk over to our husbands waiting on us with chairs for us to sit in. We order some food and drinks.  People come over to Carson to tell us how cute he is in his Seminole jersey. 

So, yes.  My imagination definitely ran away from me! Good thing I had Olivia there to tell me all was going to be O.K. before we walked in.  Carson loved the clapping and cheering and all the commotion to keep him busy! He lasted the whole 4 hours of the game at that bar!  Of course it was a bit tiring for my husband and I to hold him the whole time, but ultimately we all had a great time watching our 'Noles win!

Back to the list...

- headed back to the house to regroup and give Carson a nap
- went back to Seafood Festival to eat dinner and attend an 80's cover band concert

Sunday:
- went for a walk around Olivia's beautiful historic neighborhood
- ate brunch at a restaurant overlooking the gulf

- relaxed on the beach before our trip home

I didn't want to tell Olivia no to any of these things just because I was nervous about how Carson would handle it.  I wanted to show her I could do it all and live it up like we used to.  I only denied her once when she tried to get her neighbor to watch Carson while we went to the concert.  A stranger watch my child? I'm not that carefree.  I know I was a nervous wreck at times worrying about all these "new" adventures with Carson, but ultimately I had a blast. I loved spending time with my best friend and it meant the world to me for her to meet Carson. 

Did we do a lot in a 36-hour time frame? Heck ya.  Was I tired? That's an understatement.

But the real question:

How did Carson do? Just fine.  Wow, I could do more than just take him to the grocery store and back in a day? What a revelation!

I couldn't help but look at Olivia's life and envy it a bit.  Her husband is killing it as a new lawyer in town while she is doing awesome expanding her father's business and teaching dance at night.  They also have tons of friends and seem to be quite the socialites of Pensacola.  I wouldn't expect anything less from this power couple!

It made me reflect on my life and my situation.  Of course we can't do all that they do or have weekends like that all the time, but we can definitely get out a little more!  I need to stop making excuses because I am nervous or anxious about the unknown. 


God bless my friendship with Olivia.  A friend that is good company is great, but a friend that can make you become a better version of yourself is one to be cherished. Since my visit with Olivia, I have started to say yes to so much more! Not only will it benefit Carson to have new experiences, but Mommy and Daddy will start to get some "normalcy" back into their lives again, too!

My Pit Bull is Great with My Baby

My 8-year-old pit bull, Sadie, and my almost 8-month-old baby, Carson, have the sweetest friendship between dog and baby.  Although this is not necessarily a revelation to me, I can see how some people would have their doubts about such a close, sweet friendship.

I used to be in this category of people:  "Pit bulls are scary.  They are bred to kill and protect.  They are unpredictable.  I would never want one for a pet, or nonetheless, around my child." 

This all changed when I met Sadie in 2007.   My husband rescued her in 2005 from an animal shelter in Tallahassee, FL.  She had scabies, heartworm, an ear infection and was guessed to be around 4-months-old. He had no intention of taking home a dog that day, but he couldn't refuse that pitiful puppy face staring at him through the bars.  He made a promise that day that he would never have her live that way again.

Sadie has given us such joy in the time we've had her.  If you are a dog lover like us, you know that there are some dogs that just have that something special about them.  Sadie is nothing short of special.

Sadie has a very sweet demeanor about her.  Many of her qualities seem human-like.  She is sensitive and sweet.  If you were to come to our house today, Sadie would greet you at the door, lick you like crazy, and follow you around the house.  She would sit right next to you hoping for a good scratching behind the ears or patting on the head.  Her eyes are the best; she looks at you like she's looking into your soul. 

Sadie does some things that I have never seen a dog do before:

Sadie will not eat food unless you tell her its for her.  What dog does this? We even have a big OPEN box of treats that sit on the floor of our laundry room which remains untouched. She will only eat them if we give them to her. 

She also has the funniest, "UH-OH" face.  If she does something wrong, like pee on the floor or chew a toy that is not hers, she will curl up her lip showing all of her teeth.  We think its her, "I'm sorry" face. 

She also hates yelling.  My husband and I have some cute memories of being newlyweds where we would start bickering/yelling at each other and then have to start "whisper fighting" since it would make Sadie shake and get scared. It's like she keeps us in check of our emotions. 

Sadie has never, and I truly mean NEVER, hurt a human being.  In the almost 9 years she's been alive, not I, nor my husband, have seen her nip, bite, or growl at a human being. 

But, I shouldn't lie and tell you she is an innocent angel.  She is still a dog.  An instinctual dog.  And all dogs should be monitored as such. 

Here's some interesting/funny/sad things Sadie has done throughout the years:

1. Brought a live opossum into the house as a present - 3 different times.  Standing up on couches, swooshing them with brooms, trapping them in trash bags, all make for great, funny memories. 

2.  Took down a baby deer that was running through my in-law's property in the country. The deer was able to get away. 

3. Dragged squirrels and birds onto the bed for us to stumble upon.

4. Killed a barn cat that kept running onto my in-law's property.

5.  Attacked a rattle snake and ended up with three bites on her nose and lip.  Luckily the anti-venom saved her life in time. 

So, it's safe to say, if there is an animal that she doesn't know, and it is on the run, she will instinctually run after it.  

There is one animal story with Sadie that melts my heart: 

Sadie was acquainted with a baby squirrel that fell out of a tree one Christmas holiday. This squirrel was so young that my mother-in-law had to feed it throughout the night.  It would stay in a towel on her bedside table, until one night, the squirrel fell.  My mother-in-law panicked when she awoke to see an empty towel.  Then, she walked into the bathroom and saw that Sadie had picked up the squirrel, carried it into the bathroom, and nuzzled it into a t-shirt to keep it warm.  There, Sadie remained licking it like her own baby.  I believe Sadie cared for that squirrel because we, humans, cared for the squirrel.  She treated it differently. 

Like I said, She is one-of-a-kind. 

Many people asked me this question when I was pregnant:

 "Are you worried about your dog with your son?"
(The underlying meaning: "Are you worried about your PITBULL with your son"?)

No.  I am not worried in the way that many people think I would be.  Am I worried that my dog will attack or bite my son?  No, never.  I do worry about Sadie around my son just like any animal around any child. I am worried about things like Sadie pawing him for attention or scratching his skin on accident.  I am worried Sadie will want to play and jump on him too roughly.  I believe I am cautious with my dog around my son like any parent should be about pets around their children.  It is smart to be aware and watch their interactions, no matter what bread of dog.  That's just being a safe guardian.   

From the start, Sadie was curious about Carson.  At first she would just sniff him and walk away, unsure about the crying baby taking up our attention.  Now that Carson knows Sadie, looks for Sadie, smiles and laughs when he sees Sadie, Sadie just soaks up all the attention. And these two have become quite lovely friends. 

Wherever Carson and I are playing, on the bed, on the floor, or eating in the kitchen, Sadie is right there ready to play.  Sadie has such a patient way with Carson.  Carson is at the age where he doesn't know that pulling an ear or poking an eye could hurt Sadie.  So he does it relentlessly.  He loves Sadie's wagging tale, her clinking dog tags, and floppy ears. And Sadie, loves his attention.  She just sits there while Carson is constantly crawling on her until she can steal a kiss and get him to laugh.  She will even sit right next to his crib when he is crying until I come and pick him up.

I could just watch them forever.  I love that the dog that has loved on us for so long can now love on our son.

I am not the woman that once had a narrow misunderstood view of a pit bull.  Now I am a mother who couldn't imagine another dog, or breed, that could be a more perfect fit for our family. 

"Long Poops"

In the past 6 months of living with a newborn, my husband and I seem to take longer poops.

Yep. I said it. Poop.

I’m not saying the actual turd is longer; I’m saying the duration of the time spent on the porcelain throne has significantly increased. Like all of a sudden there’s a constipation problem in the house?

I can’t help but to reference the recent movie with Paul Rudd in This is 40 where his movie wife, Leslie Mann, actually catches him taking a “fake dump” while sitting there playing on an ipad.

I ask myself, “Why? Why is all this time dedicated to probably the foulest thing we will do all day?”

Two words. Alone time. And not just any alone time—undisturbed alone time.

“Honey, can you grab the baby?” Nope. I’m pooping.

“Babe, can you take out the trash?” Nope. Pooping.

“Will you help get dinner started?” Pooping.

You really can’t get mad at someone who has to go. I mean, when ya gotta go, ya gotta go. Don’t get me wrong. My husband and I are not sitting on the pot all day. But, when we finally get to shut the door to the sweet oasis that awaits, we are void of any responsibility that could potentially come our way.

Welp. I guess I should flush and get on with my day. Till next time…

Having the Baby Blues is not the same as having Postpartum Depression

The Baby Blues are REAL.  If you are preparing to have a child anytime soon, grab a tissue, you’re going to need it. 

“Did I say something wrong?” as my father in law passed me on the couch. 

“Did I upset you?” whispered my sister-in-law in my ear.

It was Easter weekend at my in-laws. After dinner, we all were relaxing and enjoying each other’s company.  And I, two months after birthing my child, was sitting on the couch with my mother-in-law bawling my eyes out. 

No one understood what was going on.  Heck, I didn’t know what was going on. Everyone thought something must have happened. But no, I just simply wanted to cry.

 I remember laughing as tears welled up in my eyes telling each family member how nothing was wrong, and I just tend to do this lately. I remember my husband confirming to everyone that all was okay. (He had seen his fair share of crying in the past days.)

I cried a lot the first 1-2 months after birthing my first child.  And, as I have learned and read, it’s totally normal.  I just had no idea how true it really was.

Before having children, I thought the, “baby blues” were just for women who were depressed after pregnancy – postpartum depression.  But, I quickly learned that MANY women go through some depression as hormones start to level back out.  Also, I was trying to do it all: learn how to breastfeed, change a diaper, take pictures of every new moment—all on very little sleep! So crying just seemed natural with all the new and overwhelming things going on!

My poor husband.  I’m sure he thought I was looney.  I would cry for all sorts of reasons and also for no reason at all.  He still tried to comfort me.  Being the good man he is, he would try to ask me questions to try to figure out what was “wrong”.  My answer many times was, “I am the happiest I’ve ever been, but I just feel like crying.”  I went through so many emotions those first days of having a newborn that I couldn’t always express what I was feeling, and crying was just easier.

 My favorite was to cry in the shower.  My sister taught me this trick (if you can call it that).  She’s actually the one who made me feel quite normal during the blues since she also just had a baby two months prior to me. In the shower I could cry as loud and obnoxiously as possible without any crazy looks from my husband.  It just felt goooooood. 

So how did I know I had the baby blues and not actual post-partum depression?

Pretty easy to tell the difference: I stopped crying. 

I also have a close friend who went through post-partum depression and she, thankfully, was open about her experience.  She told me (a bit reluctantly but truthfully) how she didn’t feel a close bond to her child.  Before she got help, she described her experience as a mother as more burdensome than joyful.  Once she was prescribed depression medication, she felt all the things a mother wants to feel and should feel—happiness, love and joy for her son.   

 She advocated getting help if you need it.  Although I never felt distant from my son, because of her, I was very aware of my feelings.  I knew if I didn’t start to feel better, I would speak up – and it was okay to do so.

I am so thankful for other mothers in my life, specifically my sister and friend in this scenario.  I need them.  I need them to understand myself.  I need to talk, to understand, to listen. 

Now, being 6 months out, I really was a bit crazy.  I have to laugh at myself thinking back at all those RANDOM cry sessions that just left my husband speechless.

Baby blues are real, and thank God my cute little boy will not remember those early days where I cried more than him.

"You birth the...WHAAAT?!"

Placenta. That’s what.

I took an anatomy class in high school, read PLENTY of baby books while pregnant, and yet no one STINKIN’ told me that once my precious little gem pops out… I’m not done pushing. HOW DID I MISS THIS?

I had preparation for just about all the stages of my pregnancy. My mom, mother-in-law, sister, fertility doctor, OBGYN, nurse practitioner—they were all so great at telling me what to expect—and possible pain I would be in. And, I’d like to think I dealt with the pain pretty good.

Invitro Fertilization Shots? Check.

4 months of vomiting? Check.

Swollen ankles? Check.

Back Pain? Check.

Braxton-Hicks Contractions? Check.

Real Contractions? Check.

Pushing out my child? Check.

All these things I was told about beforehand and I was mentally and physically ready to endure this pain (to some degree).

Honestly, the part I feared the most was actually the easiest: the contractions and pushing (of the baby). Of course with the help of a little friend that goes by the name of, Epidural, I pushed that ‘lil guy out in less than 20 minutes. Although the whole birthing process lasted 12 hours, I only needed about 17 minutes of pushing to get that sweet 8.4 pounds of joy out of me. And, what a feeling! To hear his sweet cry and see his little squirmy body was nothing short of amazing. People aren’t lying when they say it’s the best moment of your life. It truly was the best moment of mine.

I could finally relax. I thought all my pain, anxiety, and fears were over. My baby boy was in my arms.

And the flash photography commenced. I had my mom and mother-in-law there snapping photo after photo. My husband was also by my side flashing his biggest grin by our newborn child.

Then, the doctor told me to keep pushing.
“PUSH? Push what?” I know I’m a bit drugged up but I could have SWORN I just popped out a baby!? What am I pushing for?”

I still had to birth the placenta.

I was in NO WAY prepared for this. The hardest part was everyone who was my support system throughout the delivery now had their attention on the baby. They were celebrating, and rightfully so. But, I also wanted to see my child and go through the joy with them. So, amidst taking the pictures I’ve been dreaming about for over 9 months straight, I still had a job to do. A downright painful, horrible job! A half hour later, with lots of painful pushing on my abdomen and more blood loss than expected, I birthed the placenta.

No one can be fully ready for what is to come—with birthing a child, or anything else for that matter. Yes. I would have liked to have known that tidbit of information about birthing the placenta, but I truly shouldn’t complain. My delivery went great with only a few hiccups. I also have a healthy bundle of joy for the outcome.
So, without further adieu, our first family photos:

(taken right after the delivery of my son and right smack-dab during the birthing of the placenta)

“Say Cheeeese!.... and PUUUUUUSH!”