Kiddy currency

Spa baby

Hello, my name is Cort and I'm a sugarholic.

You all know that.

While, I'm not ubernazi on the amounts of sugar Babygirl gets, I am still very conscious of it.  Yes, she had a real chocolate cupcake with chocolate frosting on her birthday.  And yes, she gave herself a facial and hardly consumed any of it.

Way to go, Babygirl.

I've tried to get creative in the treats I have in the house to offer her.  One, because I want to keep the good stuff for myself, and B. she's a stubborn and observant so throwing a saltine cracker at her and calling it a "treat" won't fly.

Merry flippin Christmas

[To the tune of Christmas Song (Chestnuts over an open fire)]

A one...A two...A one two three four....

Dog puke foaming by the closed front door
Placed there for me to schmear around.
Dog looking at me...she's just about to blow...
Merry Christmas to you.

Week 4 Weigh-in

Lordy.

It's been 4 weeks now that I've been training with How Does She Do It Mom, and boy am I seeing changes.

So what if I still suck it in for our biweekly pictures?
I appreciate posture.  Plus, I can suck it in further than I could 4 weeks ago!

I'm losing weight - thankfully.  Although the program considers weightloss as less of a goal and more of a side effect of proper diet and training - it is still nice when the needle moves in the right direction.

But beyond a number on the scale, I'm losing the momma belly roll (good riddance), the love handles (sayonara), back bra rolls (adios) and overall jiggle generally (buh-bye).

The week of Christmas

I'm finally into it.  The Christmas spirit has spread throughout the MSM household.

We're playing Christmas songs, the tree is up, the stockings are hung.  We made Christmas cookies!

This is a fun year because Babygirl is much more interactive than last year.  Last year was spit up and fussy and nap and pumping and fussing and breastfeeding and blankets and spit up and shit up your back diapers.  This year may contain some of that, but also words and running and smiles and pure unadulterated joy.  Even cutting a molar this week, she's managed to boogie her little butt to any Christmas song with a beat.  What a trooper!

Again with the picture slideshow put to music...

Babygirl's first Christmas program was tonight.

She's 14 months old, so we weren't expecting an Away in a Manger solo or anything.  Her teachers were excited, and we've never had an opportunity to go to anything to see her.

So we were excited.

And apprehensive...since the program started at 7 and she is ALWAYS nestled safely in her bed at 8.  The final hour has the most nuclear potential.

She loves her teacher.  LOVES her.  She will leap out of my arms into her teacher's every morning.  With a quick glance and wave in my face...even if we adults are still talking...she send me on my way.

This is the only reason I am as OK with daycare as I am.  She loves it there.

I returned to the sanctuary of the church in which the daycare is held (apparently, the holy water is refrigerated for nights like tonight).  They had a slide show of the babies playing with Christmas music.

Kryptonite to Superman...again.  (Attributed to 24% PMS, 76% sentimental schmuckness)

I hardly made it into my seat after dropping Babygirl off in her classroom before I started bawling.  Like unable to speak crying.

I gathered my shit in time to see Babygirl's favorite teacher carry her to stage.

Tears: Round two.

Gah!

They sang a song. Our camera short circuited on the dim lighting, so I was able to focus my attention on the blurry imaged camera (and not yelling "FUCKING CAMERA" at the top of my lungs) and the tears subsided.

Mostly.

Then as the baby/toddler section was over, Babygirl's teacher thanked us for allowing her to watch our children every day.  Even on bad days.  Because she loves them.

That's why it's ok to leave my heart in the hands of another 5 days a week.

Secret of life

The last few months I've been trying to simplify my life.

In the last 2 weeks I'm doing it.

I'm clearing out the cobwebs, trimming the fat, scraping clean the corrosion of time.

It has not been easy. I'm running low on energy - quite literally. I'm moving past the hump of acclimation into a new diet - the lack of caffeine has made my eyes threaten to jump from my skull.

I am striving to have truer relationships. Quality not quantity.

Florida - on business

So you've heard about the drama flying down to Florida and the drama heading back home...

That was most of the story.  I had to go to Florida for business - and took hubs and the kids along with me.  Why? Because we had a free room and, hell, it's Florida in December!!

We had sunny, warm (by Indiana standards) weather.  Daddy and Babygirl walked on the beach while Momma sat in meetings.  They collected shells during my annual review. 

That's ok, I got to go surf-fishing on the clock!

You're just a housewife

Yesterday, I posted about our flight down to Florida last week.

Our flight home was slightly less eventful.  Much less running at least.

We flew in to Atlanta without a single issue/delay.  Our two hour layover was just that.

Every. minute. of. it.

We boarded our plane back to Indy. No ice on the wings (I checked). We were fueled and ready to go.

Taxi out to the runway.  Then it happened.

Ready for take-off

Airplane schedules and I do not get along.

First, and most horribly, I scheduled our family to arrive in Florida at 11 PM instead of 11 AM last Tuesday.

Yes, I was in Florida. Yes, I took my family. Yes, I love my readers. No, I didn't post it on here...or Facebook...or Twitter.  Yes, I'm paranoid that someone would have come and rifled through my underwear drawer.

Anywho... Luckily, my 12 hour mis-hap was discovered by a coworker organizing flight schedules so our family's collective ass wasn't stuck shopping for overpriced Colts gear all day.

Our departure flight from Indy was delayed by 30 minutes because of nuts-o weather down south. No biggie, that's why our lay-over was 90 minutes - just for such occasions.  Then our plane had to be de-iced (=45 minute wait) and THEN we had to park on the runway because of a backup in Atlanta (=45 minutes).

First babysitter

Tonight - for the first night ever - we left our child, my life, in the hands of a teenager.

One that we hadn't met before.

Ack.

Yes, she came highly recommended by others. Straight A's, cheerleader, loves kids - especially under the age of 2, experienced babysitter, and known in the town as "the perfect kid". 

We needed a night out.

This was a great experiment in momma loosening the first of many threads on her apron (not a string...just a thread).

We introduced ourselves to her.  Babygirl pointed, Babysitter responded.

They clicked.

We left.

I worried.

About an hour in...I texted for an update. Hoping that Babygirl hadn't gone nuclear.

My response..."She's an angel!"

Release of 14 months of tension....one long slow outward breath.

We had a great time.  And returned home to a sleeping baby and groggy teen.  (It was, afterall, a school night).

All is well.  We're all better for it.

Tomorrow, my Babygirl is going to be that teen...tonight, she's the bundled, slumbering puddle of love. 

Safe and sound.

So busy

My worklife is so cyclical...feast or famine...

My posting regularity follows this wave.

Sorry I haven't posted in a while.  Don't forget me inter-world!!

I'm working on sticking to my meat+veggies diet.

By "working" I mean that I backslid a bit yesterday, but I'm avoiding a bag of chocolates that is regularly passed around our meeting table -- so I AM being good.  No pop, no coffee (because I require all the goodies that make coffee not taste like coffee).  Just water.

I did a workout on Tuesday morning and my back disagreed with me.  Well my legs and my back.

And my neck and my abs and my arms.

Ok, the workout totally killed me, but in a good way.

If by "in a good way" means that I groan obscenely if I have to crouch to get the water jug off the bottom shelf of the fridge.

So I'm here - I'm sore, but surviving my first week of my health crazed, no-carb diet.

I haven't bitten anyone yet, so I'm still counting it as a win.