When bigger shoes have big meaning

I have always loved shoes. Really. Three years ago, it wouldn't have been safe to let me see a "Sale" sign on a shoe store, because I would have to go in and buy at least ONE pair. I had way too many shoes. Several pairs I seldom, if ever wore. But shoes were my weakness. I loved them.

In December 2008 I found out I was pregnant with my first daughter and spent the next nine months getting fat and dressing for comfort. I didn't wear anything less comfortable than flip flops that summer. About the same time that I've gotten my body back I was surprised to learn that I was pregnant again. So another nine months of getting fat and dressing comfortably.

I have worn heels two times since December 2008 and I can list them. Once to church spring of 2010. Another time to a viewing of a friend's family member during fall of 2010. And that's it. Last week I went to put on a pair of heels to wear to church and they were way to small! *gasp* The horror.

I have gotten rid of a lot of my shoes over the last couple of years. They were taking up a lot of closet space and I don't really have the need for them anymore. As if I ever did. But now trying on the shoes that I still have I find that my feet have apparently grown!

Of all the side-effects to two pregnancies in two years, larger feet was not one I expected. But be forewarned! It can happen. A few months ago I bought a pair of New Balance toning sneakers and measured my foot to get the size (I ordered them online) but I didn't really think about the fact that I needed 8's now. I like my sneakers with a little room so I can wear thicker socks anyways so I had ordered them a little big. But now I learn that I can't wear my size 6 shoes anymore!

So the other day at Walmart, I sit down on the shoe aisle to confirm this. I try on shoes. Nope. Size 6 won't go on my foot. Nor will a 6.5. Ugh. I'm now at least a size 7 or 7.5. I know I don't have sled runners for feet or anything. But man, who'd a thunk it? A full size bigger!

Over the last couple of years, between babies and being pregnant, I haven't had a lot of opportunity for high-heel affairs. Typically the other shoppers in Walmart don't look at my feet. And house cleaning tends to go better in flip flops, sneakers or barefoot. Being pseudo law enforcement, we have uniforms and S.W.A.T. boots to wear to work. So I'm certainly not dressing to the nines there. Josh and I have only had a handful of "dates" since Evie was born and none of them have needed heels.

But in three weeks, my best friend is getting married. I'm very excited and happy for her. And I'm also super excited about getting out of the house, leaving the babies with my mom and spending some quality grown-up time with my husband. I bought a super cute dress and some adorable shoes. Black peep-toe pumps with a little bow/ruffle on top. They are fabulous.

I still have an affinity and fondness for shoes. But it has certainly taken a backseat to diapers, formula, baby food, and clothes for kids. These shoes have a lot of importance for me. They are the first pair of "cute" shoes I've bought since I got pregnant. I also sort of see them as a turning point for me.

I'm done having babies (most likely). I'm going to lose all this weight and be skinny and attractive and be happy with my body again. I am a much different person than I was. A different person with bigger feet. And stretch marks. I'm a mom now and I think that has a profound impact on who you are. But I don't have to be JUST a mom. And I think that's something that has taken me a while to accept. I can still be cute and have fun!

I'm not the carefree 22-year-old anymore. Having children is a big responsibility. And while I sometimes miss all the fun that I used to have and my size 3 shorts, my children are such an incredible blessing. They are lots of fun and way better to look at than any of those size 3 shorts anyways. I wouldn't change anything or do any of it different.

I have promised that I will cut myself some slack. My body created some absolutely gorgeous babies. It took nine months to gain the weight so I'll try and be patient and give myself nine months to lose it. I'm not going to be upset about having bigger feet because now I have a legitimate excuse to update my shoes. At my current weight loss rate I will be back around 125 by Evie's birthday and that's not so bad. Assuming I can manage to not put a bunch of weight back on through the holidays (and man its TOUGH) I will be back down to my pre-baby size for next year's pool and beach season. It'll all be okay.

Baby wearing...for the win?

I have addressed this issue before, but just in case you haven't picked up on it, Elly is a needy baby. Very needy. She is clingy and has a constant need to held and if you leave her alone in a room she freaks out. You can't go get laundry, or grab a drink or even go pee without listening to Elly cry and fuss. I think baby wearing might just be the solution to this dilemma.

I've always thought that baby wearing was kind of a new age hippie sort of thing. I mean before I actually learned anything about it. Before I did some research and read the blogs of some intelligent women who did baby wearing (and there are some weird cookies out there who do it.) I thought of it as one of those granola, hairy-arm-pit, unwashed sort of things. Of course, nowadays, organic is trendy (Remember back when people who ate organic had dreadlocks and wore a lot of hemp bracelets?) and of course hemp is getting to be trendy. Every one is into all-natural products, mineral make-up, locally grown produce, reusable shopping bags, etc. We've all gotten to be way more eco-conscious in the last year or two. So I guess hippie is in?

But I refuse to give up shaving my arm pits. I don't care if becomes trendy!

After researching I found that baby wearing is no more hippie and new age than breast feeding is. It's really more old school and natural that putting baby in a bouncer and letting them "tough it out."

I started looking into baby wearing while I was pregnant. With a high-maintenance high-energy toddler, I worried about how I'd manage tending two babies at once. Baby wearing seemed like a good solution. It's something that moms having been doing since our hunting and gathering days. The Native Americans carried their little papoose and the Chinese carried their babies in colorful slings. Josh kinda frowned on the idea of the sling and carrying the baby around all the time. Then I started thinking about how Evie just preferred to do her own thing and how it might be awkward to try and keep the baby with me all the time and I guess I talked myself out of it. I still thought it was a great idea and whereas I was afraid it wasn't for me, I still supported it.

I read a lot of the history of baby wearing. There are a lot of resources out there if you're interested. Here are some links:
*Baby Wearing 101
*Sling babies
*Wikipedia Baby Wearing


Since Elly came along I've had to make a lot of compromises on my parenting style. I guess that's a big part of parenting...compromises. Co-sleeping has never been something that I've wanted to do with a newborn, but it has been necessary as Elly now wakes up every morning at 5 a.m. to come sleep with me. Before I made that compromise no one was really sleeping. Well, my husband did some, and that just ticked me off. Now I'm a little aggravated that I have to get up every night but at least I'm managing about 7 hours of decent sleep.

Another compromise has been the schedule. I really support having babies on a schedule and Evie was the perfect infant for someone with my anal retentive tendencies. I like having predictability to my life and knowing when I'm going to be doing what. Elly despises schedules. She works hard every single day to keep us all on our toes. Other than the 8 a.m. bottle she has right when we get up and the 9 p.m. bottle every night before bed, I have no idea when or how much Elly will eat. No idea. Some days she wants to eat every 2 hours. Some days only every 4. Sometimes she will down 6 oz and ask for 2 or 3 more. Sometimes she'll take an hour to barely finish 3 oz. There's really no telling. Generally speaking she eats between 25-32 oz a day. But I have had to completely give up on getting her on a schedule for now. I'm hoping when she starts solids she will get on a 3 meals and 4 bottles schedule. Hoping...

She also doesn't usually nap in her crib like I would prefer. Or spend enough time out of that vibrating bouncer seat. Or get as much one-on-one time as I'd like. The list goes on...but you get the idea.

But one thing I really can't compromise on is that I have to put her down sometimes. I'm a mom of TWO and there are a lot of other things that I have to get done during the day. And I can't wait til after both babies are asleep because I need to sleep too. Plus I'm usually so exhausted by then I'm lucky to have the energy to wash my face and drag the covers over me. I have come to grips with the fact that I will not keep my house spotless or even tidy most of the time. I have accepted that I may not get a full night's uninterrupted rest for several years. If ever. I've moved on from thinking that I will get everything done, be it laundry, yard work, or even just photos uploaded. But with a toddler who needs food, drink, diapers changed, attention, etc. on a fairly regular basis I need to have my hands free so that I can at least take care of her. And maybe start the dishwasher or the washing machine. Ya know?

I've come to terms with a lot of changes since Elly's birth. Still I have to spend more time than I'd like listening to her cry because I cannot hold her all the time. I'm hoping that baby wearing helps resolve some of this. So last Friday I ordered a sling. My mom received a code from Seven Slings for a free sling, you just have to pay shipping and handling. So we each ordered one paying only $11.95 for it. She received hers yesterday and I received mine today. I went with Supernova because I thought the purple was pretty. I also went with a size 2 based on the site's size recommendations, though I wish I had gone with a 3 so I'd have more room.

Evie REALLY liked it. Of course I didn't get it for her, specifically but she wants to try everything. She also decided she did NOT want her Daddy taking her picture and made ugly faces. But I promise, she loved it. The site says the sling supports up to 35 lbs and Evie is about 25. I am not sure I would want a 35 lb kid in it but Evie was pretty comfortable to carry. I walked around the house for a few minutes with her.

It felt pretty comfortable hands free. I think this will be my favorite carry position, though the child has to be able to sit up unsupported to use this one. So Elly has at least a few months.

Please ignore my clothes and hair. I had just wet my hair and gotten ready for work when the mail arrived. I was so excited to try out the sling and I really didn't have time to change for a photo shoot. I didn't really think about how I looked. haha.

I put Elly in the front carry...or tried. She really liked it too. Once she got over the first few moments of "Holy crap what is going on?" where she grunted and squirmed and kept trying to throw her arms up and grab my face.

So I really like the sling. I think Elly is going to really like it and I hope it means a happier baby. There are supposed to be a LOT of benefits to baby wearing including a closer parent-child bond, improved language skills, decreased risk of a flat head and a healthier baby. We shall see!

I will definitely update you guys in a week or two on how it is going. Evie really supports the baby wearing. She carried her baby around for awhile in the sling.

So Evie's a baby wearer. I guess I am officially a baby wearer too...but I promise I'm still shaving my arm pits. And legs for that matter. Eesh.

What makes a good parent?

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To teach a toddler

It's easy to see that learning starts way before a child sits at a desk or walks through kindergarten doors. The first year, the teaching comes pretty easy. Teaching baby how to eat, drink, crawl, walk--babies do it all in their own time, in their own way, and a parent's involvement is pretty straight-forward. Heck, a lot of the responsibility in the first year is just keeping baby alive. Feeding them, keeping them from tumbling down a set of stairs or choking on a penny, padding the furniture so they don't crack their heads open trying to walk. These are the ways parents occupy their time that first year. While the sleepless nights, colicky days, hundreds of bottles, thousands of diapers and the occasional heart attack as you watch baby take a spill may be hard on your health, the first year flies by. And with Evie, the first year was easy.

The second year is where the real learning started for us. We have been reading to Evie since before she was born. I remember reading "Piggie in a Puddle" to Evie while I was about 6 months pregnant. We always have pointed out things in the pictures, narrated, used sound effects, etc. We talked to Evie constantly. Repeated sounds, stressed syllables and said words over and over and over. Despite our efforts, Evie's first words didn't come until long after the 6 month average. She was about 10 months old when she really started using "mama" and "dada," words that most babies have long since mastered and moved on from. Now at 20 months she's finally progressing in her speech and starting to catch up to where she should be.

While her communication skills fell behind, Evie has always been ahead on all her physical milestones, from fine motor skills to the bigger stuff. She walked at 10 months, was stacking blocks, walking up stairs, climbing ladders, jumping, dancing, and more long before the baby books said she should. Heck, long before they thought she might be trying them.

Believe me, I'm one of those parents who obsesses a bit over milestones. Every month I read my "What to Expect" book for both Evie and Elly and look at what they should be learning to do this month. Granted, Elly's list is much longer than Evie's. But Elly obviously is lacking a lot more! And I push them every month towards those goals. Like this month Elly needs to be able to hold her head up when pulled to sitting and push up on her arms. So that's what we're working towards.

But now Evie is almost two. While we of course work on her language development daily, we have also been teaching her other things this year. Things that, before you have kids, you don't think about having to "teach" someone. Like the names of body parts and laughing at the hilarity of when they misunderstand (No baby, that's your belly, not your butt.) or stammering to come up with a cutesy name for the girl parts. Lately, we've been going over shapes and colors and counting.

Thank goodness for educational toys. They make this easier.

We sit in the floor and I ask Evie where the blue shape is or the purple shape. And she picks it up or points to it. Where the star is or the triangle. And she tries to identify it. Every time I ask her to find one by both color and shape she gets it, but sometimes she mixes up shapes if I ask them solo.

She tells me that the purple star is her favorite.

Like anything else, learning shapes and color and counting has its successes and frustrations. And unfortunately Evie has a Molotov cocktail of temper and patience that she inherited from her parents. My husband's temper and my lack of patience combine into a hell-cat combo. Frequently these games of "learning" dissolve into Evie screaming and throwing the toys across the room before she gets up and leaves. She cannot handle any form of failure. I've found that even telling her in a kind, constructive way that she's doing something incorrectly brings on tears and trauma. Telling her she's being silly for deliberately pointing to the wrong pictures in a book led to a complete meltdown one night. A snot-covered, sniffling toddler curled up on my lap having to be reassured that it was okay for 20 minutes kind of meltdown.

While she never got frustrated with just shapes and colors today, she did get really ticked that the square wouldn't fit through the triangle's slot. And when the heart and star weren't interchangeable...well, meltdown city here we come!

Teaching is hard. It's tough to stay positive and focused and not get frustrated. Especially when dealing with a wanna-be two-year-old who throws a hissy fit when she gets something wrong. But it is also incredibly rewarding when she gets it right and grins proudly. And she's so adorable sorting her shapes out and putting them in the container.

At times I'd even call her highly entertaining. Next up...counting past five! Woohoo.

Sissy is trying to talk!

So, you're going to think I'm completely insane...but I swear Elly is going to be talking way earlier than Evie even thought about. The other day I was jokingly trying to get her to say "mama" by just repeating it over and over, much to Evie's delight (she thought it was hilarious for some reason) when Elly just went "Maaaaa!" and giggled.

This morning, Josh was holding her and she was cooing and making happy faces. He asked her if she could see her Momma (I was sitting just a few feet away) and she said "Ooo-ma!" Oh my goodness. It was adorable! And she's only 2 months old! I can't wait to hear what she's she's saying in a couple more months. After Elly said that I told Evie that Sissy was going to be teaching her to talk in just a few months and Evie nodded. Hah! Kids are just too funny.

I really don't remember what she was making this face at.

Or this one. Elly has a lot of adorable faces. And like many babies...they don't really seem to relate to anything going on around them.

This is my favorite though...

This is how she sleeps...pretty much all the time.

So is it possible for a baby to be starting to try and talk this early? I only have my little late bloomer to compare to. And of course she didn't say her first words until like 8 or 9 months old. She's only just now starting to use two word phrases regularly. And those tend to involve personal pronouns..."My momma" or "My juice" or something along those lines. I think she was trying to tell Mushu he was a bad dog this morning which is certainly the most advanced sentence she's used that I've understood. "Moomoo, baa daa" was kind of what it sounded like. He was dragging her around the yard at Mimi's at the time and she was using her stern voice...so it fits. A lot of conversations with Evie involve a lot of guessing and assuming she's trying to say what you think she is. I know of people with children younger than Evie who form complete sentences. Complete sentences that you can understand. Heck! They are able to have conversations with their kids than even a stranger can understand. Even though I can have pretty simple conversations with Evie, I'm certain that a stranger couldn't.

I'm hoping that Elly's early desire to communicate means that she'll start talking early. I hope that her being a little tongue-tied doesn't affect it any. But I guess that's a bridge we'll cross when we get there.

In the mean time, Josh tells me he thinks that Elly will be even more attached to me than Evie is. Though he doesn't really have an explanation for why. She's continuing to sleep better and better at night. Sleeping til 5 or 6 in her crib then til 8 in our bed with no nighttime feedings. Just a couple more months and she'll be starting cereal and veggies and fruits and hopefully we'll all be sleeping a hundred times better.

I don't mind waking up to this precious face every day though...

Going to be bad if I'm the one with separation anxiety and crying myself to sleep when we put her back in her crib for good.

Daddy does it different

Sometimes I feel a little sorry for my husband. He, after all, will spend the next 18 years in a house full of girls. Even if we change our minds in a few years and have another child (highly unlikely) and we have a boy (which the odds seem to be against at this point) the girls will still outnumber the boys. Unless we have twin boys. And with no twins in our families I think we're more likely to find a winning lottery ticket on the street than to have twin boys.

So there he is. A lone beacon of testosterone lost in a vast sea of pink, frills, dresses, make-up and estrogen. He's going to have to learn things most men will never learn. Like how to color coordinate. Or how to braid hair. Dress dolls. Have a tea party. He'll have to deal with lots of tears, listen to boy problems, and buy lots of tampons.

Poor guy. He has a tough couple of decades ahead of him.

Watching Josh with Evie, I think he's going to do fine with all of this girly stuff. He actually volunteered to paint her toenails this morning. She wanted her toenails painted, but when asked if she could sit still long enough for them to dry, she admitted she couldn't.

She instead wanted Daddy to trim her toenails. Then wanted to help me paint my toenails. Ehhh, that's okay baby.

I admit, even for me taking care of two girls is going to be difficult. It already is at times. I'm home alone with them a lot and I admit that there are times when they're overwhelming. You can't understand it or explain it but taking care of two kids is somehow three times harder than just one.

Josh doesn't spend a lot of time home alone with them both. Sometimes I'm jealous of this. Like this week, he's working the late shift everyday. So he gets the house all to himself from 11 a.m. when I take the girls to my mom's and then head to work until he leaves for work at 3 p.m. Then he doesn't get home til around 2 a.m. so he gets to miss the nightly insanity. Then he'll sleep in the next morning til around 9:30 or 10, meaning not only does he miss the insanity of trying to get both babies fed first thing in the morning, he only has to deal with them for an hour or so before we leave.

I'm sure he misses them some. But at the same time he gets a lot of time to do whatever he pleases. While I would be miserable only seeing my girls for a few hours over the course of an entire week, I'm at the same time very jealous of all the time he gets to do whatever he wants. Especially since my free time is certainly not spent on "me time." My "free" time, meaning anytime the girls are sleeping or otherwise preoccupied, is spent trying to catch up on house work. If I get 5 minutes I will run and start a load of laundry, put up some clothes, sweep the floor, put up dishes, etc. Men just don't seem to have that kind of motivation. Josh will spend all of his free time playing Call of Duty or watching a movie. If I ask, he will manage to get a few chores done. Today he's supposed to be putting the first load of laundry (that I started during a free moment this morning) in the dryer, the next load in the washer, emptying the dishwasher (which I loaded and started this morning during another free moment), filling the humidifiers, getting the coffee maker ready for tomorrow and making the bottles that Elly will need tonight and in the morning. He will probably get it all done. But of course he'll have PLENTY of time for his video games and whatever else he wants to do.

I don't get enough free time to usually get to spend it doing something for me. Over the course of this weekend, I got a whole 30 minutes to myself which I spent sitting in the sun reading. It did a little for my base tan and dramatically improved my overall outlook on life. I wish I had more time for stuff like that. But I don't particularly want to give up time with my kids to get it.

One of the upsides of having spent so much time with both kids is that the whining, crying and tantrums don't really get to me much anymore. Of course, I have some bad days and there are moments that I cannot stand another second of it. But Josh's tolerance level is way lower. He gets easily frustrated with Evie's whining and tends to yell a lot more often than he used to.

The first day he stayed home with them both he was exhausted and completely frazzled by the time I got home from work. Of course, I remember calling him in the tears on my first day home alone and telling him that I couldn't do it. Granted that was two months ago and Elly was younger and sick and Evie hadn't developed any patience or tolerance for her sister yet. So I think Josh has it WAY easier now. But I don't want to say that. Because I know it is incredibly hard to balance both babies at first. And I don't need to prove that I'm better or anything. Being a parent isn't a competition. And if it were, we're supposed to be on the same team.

I tell him it will get easier the more he does it. And it seemed to go better on his second full day home with both babies.

I just find it so interesting how much different a father's bond is with his children. His whole attitude towards them is completely different from mine. And I don't mean that he loves them any less or doesn't want to spend time with them and do things. He loves them very much and he's a great father. Josh helps out way more than a lot of men do. So I'm not complaining. Sometimes it is just so frustrating though. Guess that's just part of parenting.

Successes and failures of dieting

So, I work in a job that requires us to wear a uniform to work Monday through Thursday. On the weekends (Friday included) we get to wear our blue jeans with a work shirt. Today, for the FIRST time, I'm wearing jeans that don't have an elastic waist for the first time since last July. They aren't my size 5's or even my size 7's. They're size 11's. They're the jeans that I bought a few months after Evie was born because I was tired of wearing maternity jeans. It's a success, and although it does feel like a success it is a bittersweet one.

A year ago now I had finally gotten back down into my size 5's and my small shirts. I had lost 70 lbs since Evie's birth in August and was incredibly proud of myself. It took a LOT of hard work and perseverance. I stuck to my low-calorie diet, did belly dancing and a couple hundred crunches every day. EVERY day. And it paid off. I weighed around 125 lbs when I quit officially "dieting." Though I wanted to get back down into the teens where I had been the summer before I had Evie.

I started slacking some on the diet before I got pregnant. I had probably gained around 5-10 lbs but its hard to say since it's not like I was going to the doctor or anything to see what I weighed once a month. At my first couple of prenatal visits my weight was in the 130s. And at that point I really shouldn't have been gaining preggo weight. So it was probably just my laziness.

By the end of my pregnancy I weighed 195 lbs. I was kinda devastated because I had gained as much weight as I had with my first pregnancy, except this time I had stayed fairly active, walking several times a week and chasing a one-year old around several hours a day, and had watched what I ate. I ate fast food sparingly and never got a "large" meal, unlike with my first pregnancy where I just assumed the weight would be easy to lose and just ate whatever I wanted. Being a bit wiser the second time I kept my calorie and fat intake down but despite my efforts, I was just as big at the end. Since the baby was smaller, I guess I was bigger.

Elly is about 9 weeks old now and I have lost about 46 lbs. Technically I've lost 50 lbs since I lost 45, regained 4 when I started birth control (stupid hormones) and then lost 5. I currently weight about 149 lbs. And while I can't fit into my size 8 uniform pants or my size 7 jeans, the size 11 jeans are a little roomy. And the size 14 uniform pants that a coworker gave me to wear until I get into my usual ones work but they're definitely way too big.

I'm not denying that I've made a lot of progress in 2 months. And I'm definitely on track to be back down at 125 by the six month mark like I was the first time. Just 24 more pounds!

But at the same time, spring is here and summer is fast approaching. Down here in the south, we don't have a lot of time between snow and sauna. Seems like one week you're building a snow man, the next it's 100 degrees and the air is so thick you can hardly breathe. Soon I will need to be wearing shorts and tank tops and showing lots of skin and I'm a long ways from being able to fit into my summer clothes. After Evie I had all winter to get skinny. Winter means sweatpants, sweatshirts, sweaters and jeans. Baggy, loose-fitting clothes that don't show any skin or extra weight. Summer clothes aren't as forgiving. Plus, since I've never been 140-some pounds during the summer before I don't have clothes to fit a 140-some-pound me. My shorts, tee shirts and tank tops were all bought when I was a smaller, more fit person and I cringe at the thought of going shopping with my two-babies-in-two-years body. In all honesty, I want to curl up in the fetal position and cry. Well, I do cry a little bit.

This is the summer before I got pregnant with Evie.


It's just hard.

So my goal now is 24 more pounds to be back to a happy weight. Thirty pounds and I will be walking on air, ecstatic and beyond happy. If I can lose 10 lbs a month then I will be back to a normal size before Evie's birthday. And I'll just suffer through the summer in athletic shorts and baggy t-shirts.

But dieting is so hard. And so frustrating. And losing weight takes time. And requires eating lots of boring food!

Like this...

Stupid weight loss shakes. Though, unlike most people who drink them, I do actually like them. I just get bored drinking them every morning for breakfast. And them having one for lunch or supper some days.

I'd much rather have some of these...

Blueberry muffins that I made Evie this morning. She ate three. And a piece of cheese. And drank a huge cup of whole milk. It's frustrating when you're jealous of what your kid is eating.

Of course, it's all worth the two precious girls that I go home to every night. Even if one of them likes to steal my lean pockets and the other won't let me have 5 minutes to do crunches in the morning. I love them more than I loved being a size 5. But I hope that one day in the not too far future I will get to have both. In the meantime I stick to my 1200 calorie, high protein diet. I do at least 50 crunches every day after the girls are asleep and we go for walks as often as time and weather allow.

And of course there's this cutie-patootie...(who I swear is already trying to say "momma"...is that possible?)