Ladies and Gentlemen, I am back! After having been gone for about, oh four months, I have decided that I need to blog again because I miss it. And this time, I'm serious!! So let me recap what has been going on in my life since the last time we spoke. After suffering a serious mental breakdown and being admitted to a treatment facility for major depressive disorder, I am finally feeling like myself again. Just kidding! I have just been a busy mom of a now almost 6 month old. My son has so much personality and is grabbing things (like my necklaces), spilling drinks, drooling everywhere, and not sleeping. Whoever said that this is the best age...LIED. No, but really, I am having fun and the best reward is seeing my son smile when I enter the room. He also has an extremely infectious laugh, FYI.
As you have probably guessed, my commitment to 30 Day Shred only last two days. It was hard to workout at home with a baby crying in the background; it really takes your focus off the workout. Thus, I decided to quite Jillian Michaels and join a luxury gym. I have been pretty dedicated to working out and I even started training for a half marathon! My longest run so far has been four miles, which I am very proud of thank you very much. And, I am back to wearing all of my normal clothes, including my jeans, and they are even a little baggy in the tush area.
So right now, I can't think of any witty things to write because I have been out of the blogging game for awhile. But stay tuned, because I have some funny stories to share! Oh, and by the way, I still love being a mom!
Sunday, June 13, 2010
Saturday, January 30, 2010
Shrederize Me!
I started Jillian Michaels' 30 Day Shred tonight, and man it was tough!! I never knew/thought I could sweat so much in 20 minutes! I am hoping by posting about the routine every-so-often that I will have more accountability because I know someone will be reading this and keeping tabs on me (well, hopefully :) ). So here's to 29 more days of ass-kicking to get back into shape! I also recently joined VillaSport, which is a luxury gym with a spa and everything, so I will also start going there for a couple hours 3-4x a week. I used to go to 24 hr Fitness but you can't take your little ones there until they are 6 months old, and at VillaSport you can take them there as early as 6 weeks which is this wednesday for me!!
Anyways, I had a total meltdown a couple of days ago. I can't fit into my regular jeans yet (well I can't button them, which poses a problem) so I needed some new jeans to get me through until I'm back down to size. So my sister and I went to Old Navy and I'm thinking "ok, I'm probably a size 8 now since pre-pregnancy I was a size 6." I tried on the size 8...nope, not a size 8. "Ooook then I'm definitely a size 10, no biggie." Definitely not a size 10. "A size 12????? really?" Yes, m'am, a size 12. At this point, the tears start rolling down my cheeks and I'm kicking myself for indulging in too much chocolate and sweets. I immediately call myself and cry to him and say "I'm a size 12! You don' think I'm sexy!!!!!!" He tries to calm me down and assure me that I am still sexy and he still wants to have sex with me (thank God because it's been forever!) It is just so hard to go from being slim and having a super flat stomach to all this extra skin and untoned nastiness. I am probably sounding conceded right about now, but it is a hard transition! But, my son is absolutely worth it. I am semi-proud of my stretch marks, however.
But, I digress...I wore the size 12 jeans I just bought yesterday and they were seriously falling off me! Am I just shedding weight uber fast? or did I just think I was bigger than I actually am? I mean, I can seriously take the jeans off without unbuttoning them. So I returned the other pair and got a size 10. I am happy with that now, but my goal is to to be in a size 8 in a month and then back to my regular size by 8 weeks. So I definitely need to keep up with the 30 day shred and working out 3-4x a week. I think I can do it as long as I make it a priority and try to get LJ on a schedule. I am excited about this!! Working out, getting stronger, looking hotter, feeling better about myself. And then, of course, the ultimate reward is a big shopping spree. By then it'll be spring and I'll be able to buy and wear sexy dresses and maybe a bikini!!
Jillian Michaels, here I come!!
Anyways, I had a total meltdown a couple of days ago. I can't fit into my regular jeans yet (well I can't button them, which poses a problem) so I needed some new jeans to get me through until I'm back down to size. So my sister and I went to Old Navy and I'm thinking "ok, I'm probably a size 8 now since pre-pregnancy I was a size 6." I tried on the size 8...nope, not a size 8. "Ooook then I'm definitely a size 10, no biggie." Definitely not a size 10. "A size 12????? really?" Yes, m'am, a size 12. At this point, the tears start rolling down my cheeks and I'm kicking myself for indulging in too much chocolate and sweets. I immediately call myself and cry to him and say "I'm a size 12! You don' think I'm sexy!!!!!!" He tries to calm me down and assure me that I am still sexy and he still wants to have sex with me (thank God because it's been forever!) It is just so hard to go from being slim and having a super flat stomach to all this extra skin and untoned nastiness. I am probably sounding conceded right about now, but it is a hard transition! But, my son is absolutely worth it. I am semi-proud of my stretch marks, however.
But, I digress...I wore the size 12 jeans I just bought yesterday and they were seriously falling off me! Am I just shedding weight uber fast? or did I just think I was bigger than I actually am? I mean, I can seriously take the jeans off without unbuttoning them. So I returned the other pair and got a size 10. I am happy with that now, but my goal is to to be in a size 8 in a month and then back to my regular size by 8 weeks. So I definitely need to keep up with the 30 day shred and working out 3-4x a week. I think I can do it as long as I make it a priority and try to get LJ on a schedule. I am excited about this!! Working out, getting stronger, looking hotter, feeling better about myself. And then, of course, the ultimate reward is a big shopping spree. By then it'll be spring and I'll be able to buy and wear sexy dresses and maybe a bikini!!
Jillian Michaels, here I come!!
Monday, January 25, 2010
French Silk Pie
Dear French Silk Pie,
I have loved you for a very long time, but our relationship has caused me to gain 20lbs. Therefore, I have decided to NEVER see you again! Well, ok, never is a harsh word, so only on special occasions, BUT THAT'S IT!!!
Your Friend,
BellyFat
I am seriously addicted to french silk pie, which is why I gained almost 40 lbs during pregnancy. I mean, I really didn't think I would have anything to worry about because I have never had a weight issue and could pretty much eat whatever I wanted, but now, it's a whole different ball game. Is there a chapter of FSPA (French Silk Pie Anonymous) available for hardcore addicts like myself? As I sit here and write this, my bellyfat is literally spilling over my pants, and I'm not even wearing tight ones!! Sometimes, I grab all that extra skin and fat and mush it together and pretend like it's saying, "French silk pie! French silk pie!" in a creepy little voice. It normally makes me feel better, you know, to make-fun of my insecurities (note the sarcasm), but today it is having little effect and I am plunging deeper into depression where my addiction gets the best of me.
Thus, due to my serious muffin top-or I should say, whipped topping (only because french silk pie is topped with creamy deliciousness and that is what contributed to my love handles), I have given myself 8 weeks to get back into shape. I want to be in amazing shape. I'm talking Jillian Michaels shape. I want to be HOT! I want to be a MILF! I think 8 weeks is plenty enough time to firm up my abs that were stretched like Gumbi and my ass and thighs that have now been donned "Cellulite City," don't you? Please tell me if I am absolutely crazy. I am a mom on a mission and I have never been so motivated to sweat in my whole life! And, speaking of Jillian Michaels, I am going to try her "30 Day Shred." I have heard nothing but positive things about her program and I seriously hope it works! So friends, here goes nothing. I am tempted to post pictures of the progress, however, I don't want to subject anyone to such disturbing images. But, then again, maybe I do. Show it to your teenage daughters, it'd be great birth control!
Sunday, January 24, 2010
Shopping Day
Yesterday I finally was able to have some Mommy Time (thanks to my patient and loving husband who watched LJ while I was gone). My friend Jill and I went to the mall and had a blast. It was nice to 1. be able to talk to my girlfriend 2. not have an infant attached to the boob every other hour and 3. spend some money. Before Jill came to pick me up, I was afforded the luxury of a long shower where I was even able to shave (also thanks to my husband because I am sure he wanted to once again feel the soft, silky legs that used to be his wife's), after which I blew-dried my hair and put on make-up. I was feeling good and looking good, but that is where my good mood stopped. I was in a pickle. I had nothing to wear! Let me rephrase that: I could wear nothing from my huge closet because all my clothes fit my pre-pregnancy body and not my post one. I of course could choose from the small selection of maternity clothes I have, which included the super-baggy and completely unattractive pair of maternity jeans that I cannot wait to discard; OR I could have sorted through my already worn, slightly puked on pile of sweatpants that I have been living in since I gave birth. Umm? What to do, what to do. So I choose the latter; a pair of black yoga pants that are much more flattering than maternity jeans when you're not pregnant. They didn't have any visible puke stains and smelled fairly fresh, so I put them on and focused on finding a shirt.
Now, I was looking for a specific kind of shirt. One that was not mid-drift bearing, see-thru, or accentuated my tat-tas. Unfortunately, that eliminated my entire closet. No, I'm just kidding, but it did cut my possible selection down to about 25%. Lucky me. Thus I opted for a V-neck, 3/4 length sleeve, plain white shirt. It was a bit on the low-cut side and as I later learned, it was a bit short and kept riding up my back, revealing the stretch marks that plastered all areas of my stomach. But other than that, it was a decent choice and went well with the yoga pants. I paired some pumas with my outfit, put on my watch and my sparkling wedding band and I was good to go.
So here we are, standing face to face with the front entrance of possibly the only place in the world that feels like home to me (Dillard's) and I suddenly feel self-conscious. I am feeling this way for two reasons: 1. because I am now realizing that the shirt I chose was definitely not the best choice, and 2. because I ate left-over chili for lunch and have been "passing gas" since I unbuckled my seat belt. Great. Nonetheless, it is Mommy Time and I haven't gotten that since, well, my little man arrived. So I put my game face on and walked into a little piece of heaven that I call "The Shoe Department." I was a little disappointed in myself. I didn't find my usual patent leather stilettos appealing, and instead found myself gawking at the Jessica Simpson flats and the Dansko display. My thought process here goes like this, " Well...I can't push a stroller wearing high-heals, so if I go with Jessica Simpson I'll still be trendy. And the Danskos...they sure are comfortable AND they do have patent leather!" In the end, I left with a pair of Pumas that were on sale because you can never go wrong with stylish sneakers (and because the ones I was wearing needed to be retired).
The rest of our shopping excursion was fun and successful. The only other purchase I made was from Victoria's Secret where I bought some much needed new underwear. The pre-preganancy me was strictly a thong girl, but the post-pregnancy me (and the much wiser and slightly larger me) realizes that normal underwear not only provides more coverage for my back side, but is also much more comfortable than dental floss for my ass. Maybe, with the help of Jillian Michaels, I will one day be able to wear my old friends again; but until then, I need all the extra coverage I can get!
As our day comes to an end, and we head back to the car, I make a split decision to release any left-over gas bubbles that may sneak out during the ride home. Unfortunately, I released them a little too close to the car and they followed me inside. I pretended like I didn't notice the peculiar smell that had filled the car, while my friend exclaimed, "My car smells like bathroom!" I tensed up, thinking that I was caught, but no, I had something clever to say, "Did you fart?" Jill, "No." "Yeah, neither did I. Hmm....weird." Clever my ass! She knew, she knew! So Jill if you're reading this, it was me my friend. It was me. As we neared my house, I felt a tingle in my heart, well actually, it was my left boob letting me know that it was full and needed to be emptied, but nonetheless, I missed my little man! My night ended by going out to dinner with my hubby, LJ, and mother-in-law, then falling asleep with LJ on my chest.
So despite not having any clothes to wear, not automatically going to the shoes that use to make me happy, and not being able to wear my usual sexy panty, I love being a mom!
Now, I was looking for a specific kind of shirt. One that was not mid-drift bearing, see-thru, or accentuated my tat-tas. Unfortunately, that eliminated my entire closet. No, I'm just kidding, but it did cut my possible selection down to about 25%. Lucky me. Thus I opted for a V-neck, 3/4 length sleeve, plain white shirt. It was a bit on the low-cut side and as I later learned, it was a bit short and kept riding up my back, revealing the stretch marks that plastered all areas of my stomach. But other than that, it was a decent choice and went well with the yoga pants. I paired some pumas with my outfit, put on my watch and my sparkling wedding band and I was good to go.
So here we are, standing face to face with the front entrance of possibly the only place in the world that feels like home to me (Dillard's) and I suddenly feel self-conscious. I am feeling this way for two reasons: 1. because I am now realizing that the shirt I chose was definitely not the best choice, and 2. because I ate left-over chili for lunch and have been "passing gas" since I unbuckled my seat belt. Great. Nonetheless, it is Mommy Time and I haven't gotten that since, well, my little man arrived. So I put my game face on and walked into a little piece of heaven that I call "The Shoe Department." I was a little disappointed in myself. I didn't find my usual patent leather stilettos appealing, and instead found myself gawking at the Jessica Simpson flats and the Dansko display. My thought process here goes like this, " Well...I can't push a stroller wearing high-heals, so if I go with Jessica Simpson I'll still be trendy. And the Danskos...they sure are comfortable AND they do have patent leather!" In the end, I left with a pair of Pumas that were on sale because you can never go wrong with stylish sneakers (and because the ones I was wearing needed to be retired).
The rest of our shopping excursion was fun and successful. The only other purchase I made was from Victoria's Secret where I bought some much needed new underwear. The pre-preganancy me was strictly a thong girl, but the post-pregnancy me (and the much wiser and slightly larger me) realizes that normal underwear not only provides more coverage for my back side, but is also much more comfortable than dental floss for my ass. Maybe, with the help of Jillian Michaels, I will one day be able to wear my old friends again; but until then, I need all the extra coverage I can get!
As our day comes to an end, and we head back to the car, I make a split decision to release any left-over gas bubbles that may sneak out during the ride home. Unfortunately, I released them a little too close to the car and they followed me inside. I pretended like I didn't notice the peculiar smell that had filled the car, while my friend exclaimed, "My car smells like bathroom!" I tensed up, thinking that I was caught, but no, I had something clever to say, "Did you fart?" Jill, "No." "Yeah, neither did I. Hmm....weird." Clever my ass! She knew, she knew! So Jill if you're reading this, it was me my friend. It was me. As we neared my house, I felt a tingle in my heart, well actually, it was my left boob letting me know that it was full and needed to be emptied, but nonetheless, I missed my little man! My night ended by going out to dinner with my hubby, LJ, and mother-in-law, then falling asleep with LJ on my chest.
So despite not having any clothes to wear, not automatically going to the shoes that use to make me happy, and not being able to wear my usual sexy panty, I love being a mom!
Friday, January 22, 2010
My Son
Linton James (we call him LJ). Born December 23, 2009 @ 12:44 am. 9 lbs 1 oz 21 inches long. My perfect little man!
From Stilettos to Sweatpants: How Motherhood Changed My Wardrobe (And My Life)
Officially, my life changed on December 23, 2009, the day I became a mom; or to be exact, 262 days ago.
Thus my story begins...
So here I am, a young, newly married 23 year old in the prime of her life (well, sort of). My husband was serving in Iraq and came home for R and R (those of you not familiar with military terms: R and R stands for rest and relaxation) and since we had just endured 6 very, very long months of no sex, we got. it. on. And that was the very same night that we conceived our son.
I was pretty pleased that my pregnancy was going so well. I always heard horror stories about pregnancy so I was pleasantly surprised that I did not get morning (noon or night) sickness. For the first trimester I didn't even feel pregnant; except for the fact that I couldn't drink, which was a HUGE bummer because I absolutely love a nice glass of Riesling. Since I was nausea free, of course something else had to act up, which was my face. Oh yes. My face looked like a minefield of zits. If you can imagine this, it was pretty bad, but probably not as bad as I am letting on. Granted, before pregnancy my face was crystal clear with the occasional pimple during That Time of Month (eh-hem), so when pimples started popping up out of nowhere, I was utterly disgusted.
Not only did I feel blessed about not getting morning sickness, I thought I was lucky because I did not get any stretch marks...that is, until the very end. I'm talking like 3 weeks before I popped that little sucker out. 3 weeks, come on!! I prayed to the Stretch Mark God everyday and applied creamy cocoa butter lotions every night, but to no avail, I was blessed with the official stamp of motherhood. Nothing screams "MOM" like a belly that could serve as a roadmap. Thank God I'm married because only my husband could love a stomach like that (can I get an "Amen, sista!").
But before the pimples and the stretch marks, I was pretty hot. If I don't toot my own horn, who will? (toot toot, toot toot) I loved wearing nice clothes, staying "hip" on the trends, wearing stilettos, and taking 2 hours to do my hair and makeup. But now, you ask (chuckle), I. Don't. Have. Time. Period. Nice clothes...do Express brand yoga pants count? Staying hip on the trends...yeah, ok. I barely have time to go to the grocery store, better yet the mall! Stilettos...ha! I traded in my Steve Maddens for Sauconys. Two hours for hair and makeup...that is not a luxury I can afford anymore. Maybe, maybe my newborn allows me 2 minutes to shower, brush my teeth, wipe my ass, throw on sweats and a hoodie and grab something to eat, and even then I'm pushing it.
But despite all this; despite having to trade-in Juicy Couture for Juicy Poo-ture, I love being a mom.
Thus my story begins...
So here I am, a young, newly married 23 year old in the prime of her life (well, sort of). My husband was serving in Iraq and came home for R and R (those of you not familiar with military terms: R and R stands for rest and relaxation) and since we had just endured 6 very, very long months of no sex, we got. it. on. And that was the very same night that we conceived our son.
I was pretty pleased that my pregnancy was going so well. I always heard horror stories about pregnancy so I was pleasantly surprised that I did not get morning (noon or night) sickness. For the first trimester I didn't even feel pregnant; except for the fact that I couldn't drink, which was a HUGE bummer because I absolutely love a nice glass of Riesling. Since I was nausea free, of course something else had to act up, which was my face. Oh yes. My face looked like a minefield of zits. If you can imagine this, it was pretty bad, but probably not as bad as I am letting on. Granted, before pregnancy my face was crystal clear with the occasional pimple during That Time of Month (eh-hem), so when pimples started popping up out of nowhere, I was utterly disgusted.
Not only did I feel blessed about not getting morning sickness, I thought I was lucky because I did not get any stretch marks...that is, until the very end. I'm talking like 3 weeks before I popped that little sucker out. 3 weeks, come on!! I prayed to the Stretch Mark God everyday and applied creamy cocoa butter lotions every night, but to no avail, I was blessed with the official stamp of motherhood. Nothing screams "MOM" like a belly that could serve as a roadmap. Thank God I'm married because only my husband could love a stomach like that (can I get an "Amen, sista!").
But before the pimples and the stretch marks, I was pretty hot. If I don't toot my own horn, who will? (toot toot, toot toot) I loved wearing nice clothes, staying "hip" on the trends, wearing stilettos, and taking 2 hours to do my hair and makeup. But now, you ask (chuckle), I. Don't. Have. Time. Period. Nice clothes...do Express brand yoga pants count? Staying hip on the trends...yeah, ok. I barely have time to go to the grocery store, better yet the mall! Stilettos...ha! I traded in my Steve Maddens for Sauconys. Two hours for hair and makeup...that is not a luxury I can afford anymore. Maybe, maybe my newborn allows me 2 minutes to shower, brush my teeth, wipe my ass, throw on sweats and a hoodie and grab something to eat, and even then I'm pushing it.
But despite all this; despite having to trade-in Juicy Couture for Juicy Poo-ture, I love being a mom.
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