Mommy's So Vain

So, I think last week was the least I have blogged since I have started blogging. For shame! I wasn’t feeling quite myself for the most part. Stressed about money (of course), the future (natch) and the next couple of weeks. Sofia’s birthday party is Saturday (last count, 18 kids, 20 adults) and then a few days later, the surprise Disneyland trip for Sofia and I. (I can’t afford any of this, by the way, but the wheels are already set in motion, so off we go! Fortunately, the Disney trip was already paid for before the job loss, so I'm not too worried about that. The birthday party, on the other hand, is snowballing into wayyyyyy more than I intended.) So, if I’m MIA for a few days, you will know that I am just busy, not giving up on blogging.

First things first. The Wellbutrin seemed to be aggravating my anxiety and I called my doctor in a panic last week, seeking her thoughts on how long I should stick it out before switching back to Zoloft or another med. She talked me down off the ledge, encouraged me to use Klonopin or Xanax when I need to (I do, typically before bed, not in the middle of a work day or SAHM day when I have to be hyper functional) and we both agreed another 10 days of trial would be prudent before giving up on it completely.

Well.

I had noticed that my tummy was getting giggly and thought Hmmmmm. (After having 3 babies in 2 years, 2 of which equaled 13 lbs, I have excessive belly fat. When it deflates a a bit, we call it twin skin.) In any case, my stomach was now becoming less bloated and more saggy and twin skin like. Lovely conversation, I know. In any case, I decided to get on the scale and discovered that I had indeed lost about 10 lbs since the last time I’d weighted myself. Granted, I’ve been walking about 4 days a week, but I haven’t curtailed my eating and drinking too much. Seeing the scale was enough to boost my spirits 20 fold. I decided right then and there that I would continue to take the Wellbutrin if this was the side effect. What’s a minor panic attack once in a while if it equates to weight loss? (I’m kidding. Well, sort of)

Today, one of the most cattiest agents (Teacher Tom) told me my skin looked nice. To a just-about-to-turn-41-year-old-woman, that is the highest compliment you can bestow. And from a gay man? Please, he made my whole week. Thank you, Neutrogena fake tanner. And is it conceited to say that I’ve been having some unprecedented great hair days the past week? Don't answer that.

An unexpected weight loss, skin looking good and some great hair days? Things are looking up!! I am soooooooooooooooooooooo vain. Carly Simon wrote that song about me.

Now, life on the discipline with the kids front is not as hopeful, but I’ll save that for another post.

Another Fabulous Day Off

I'm wiped, but feel compelled to post.

Yesterday, received a call from Sofia's pre-school that she had "spit up" and possibly had a fever. There was some dispute over this, but the Director said she looked pale (as is her skin tone) and felt clammy. I left work to pick her up and within a half hour, she was singing songs in her carseat, then frolicking outside as if she had not a care in the world. I'd say someone is figuring out to how to manipulate certain situations (for lack of a better word) and get Mommy to come to school, ASAP.

Once again, the boys were complete bears today. We went to playgroup and had to leave after about 45 minutes. Between David screeching and tantruming for some unbeknownst reason and both of them wanting to explore the person's house, I was done. I think my boys are beginning to attain a certain "reputation" amongst their peer group and I'm not sure how I feel about it.

This afternoon, I made it to my primary doc for a much postponed physical. We're doing some blood work to check my insulin levels and both agreed that all things considered, I may not have picked the best time to wean from Zoloft. I'm starting on Wellbutrin tomorrow.

That's it from here.

Alpha Taurus

So, have I mentioned that my daughter is a Taurus? Or that I'm a Taurus? My husband too? We are a house of bulls and quite frankly, it can get a bit gamey at times, but we manage.

I guess you could say that amongst the three of us, I am probably the Alpha Taurus. I'm not proud of it, it just *is what it is*. Growing up, my nickname was "Testa dura" which loosely translates to "hard in the head" in Italian. I was a piece of work as a child and my daughter is giving me a nice, tasty dose of my own medicine.

Lately, it has been power struggle after power struggle with Sofia. To the point of my not liking her very much as an individual more often than not. The biggest thing? What she is going to wear. She insists on wearing the most god awful get ups or summer dresses in 30 degree weather, both of which I have to fight her on. I know this is completely appropriate for her developmental stage, but it gets tiresome day after day after day. I try to cut her off at the pass, hiding the things I don't want her to wear or picking things out together the night before. This was not one of those times when I'd planned ahead. I was already at my wits end with her because of something that had happened the previous evening:

On the drive home from pre-school, she had her Scholastic book club order form and ripped it. I explained to hear calmly that I was now not going to be able to order her any books from the book club. Suffering from lack-of-nap-itis, she became unglued at this news. She proceeded to cry and whine for the entire 40 minute drive. This behavior, coupled with my PMS and nervous condition caused by the events of the day (housing sitch) almost put me on overload. I honestly wanted to tell my husband to pull over and I'd walk home.

I shut down. I did not acknowledge her, not even one time. Thank god Steve was driving or I am not sure I could have ignored it. I knew she was trying to get a rise out of me, kicking my chair, calling out my name, begging me to look at her, but I would.not.budge. I didn't speak to her, did not engage her, did not react when she repeatedly said "Mooooooooooooooom! I wanted to rip it! I wanted to rip it!" We finally got home and Steve gave the kids dinner and I had some "alone time" in my bedroom to calm down and all was fine after that.

Fast forward to this morning. Sofia wants to wear these god awful, pink leopard leggings to school (my own fault, I bought them to wear under dresses.) Something you would have seen David Lee Roth wear, circa 1984. I repeatedly explained to her that the leggings were not appropriate for school and she actually said something to the effect of " all the kids wear them."

God give me strength. Seriously? Already with this? She's 4!! I am doomed.

So, I pick out very cute, flared, brown sweat pants for her to wear and tell her that if she does not put them on, I will have to take leopard pants away. This escalates into me threatening to cut the pants into pieces. She still is hysterical, screaming "NO! PLEASE DON'T CUT THEM! PLEASE DON'T CUT THEM!" but is refusing to get dressed.

I now regret saying I'd cut them as it's becoming clear she is not going to comply. I count to three...

I am now left with no choice but to get the scissors. I even held them up to the pants, hoping this would force her to give in.

She didn't.

In the end, I cut the pants. I had no choice. Well, I probably did, but I had reached the end of my rope. Part of the problem is my lack of giving her consequences for her actions or following through on consequences. I am usually so distracted and in survival mode that I don't always have the energy or mental fortitude to take on my little tyrant. I knew that today had to be different.

Once I cut the pants, she crumpled into tears, but I walked away, cut pants in hand. I then told Steve he needed to handle the situation from here and went to take a shower.

About 5 minutes after my shower, there was a knock on the bathroom door.

There stood Sofia, eyes brimmed with red, hair disheveled and lip quivering. But she was wearing the outfit I had asked her to put on.

Truth be told, I felt like a "Mean Mom" for this scene, but I am tired of her challenging me on every.little.thing. I really needed her to understand that I mean what I say and will follow through on my words.

It was a tough morning, but we hugged and all was well after that.

As for the leggings, I am thinking they will make lovely biker shorts come summer.

Later, Ass-lan

This morning, Sofia told me that she doesn't like to yell because it makes her breath hurt. She also told me she would like her own computer to play "bee-bee-dees" on. One thing is for sure, I am never wondering what she is thinking, needing, etc. She makes all her desires very clear. It's her gift. ;)

So, yeah. A friend of mine brought us a near life sized stuffed lion, a la, Chronicles of Narnia as a gift to the kids. They attempted to give this to Sofia at Christmas, but Sofia was adamant that she didn't want the stuffed lion coming home with us. At the time, I was secretly thrilled as the last thing I need in my 1100 sq ft house is a life sized stuffed lion.

Surprisingly, when they brought it over the other day (and after the brothers started climbing it, pulverizing it and destroying it in general) Sofia loved the lion, wanted to keep it and it was hers, only hers and NO ONE else's.

You can see said lion in the background of this photo.



I worked a long day yesterday. Almost 10 hours. When I got home, I was tired. I was cranky. I was not a happy camper when I saw the loads of laundry laying unwashed in the garage. My husband was home, the kids were in daycare, there were NO excuses. So, I blew up. I then proceeded to take a shower, letting him put the kids to bed, thinking it would be an escape. Not so.

Mid shower, I hear one of the children wailing. I closed my eyes, let the water run over my face while trying to guess which child was crying. Ah, the tone was a but shrill and went up a bit at the end of the cry, so *ding ding ding*, it had to be David. He kept crying...and crying...and crying. Why was my husband not attending to him? I hurried through my shower and as I was getting dressed, my husband knocked on the bathroom door and said "David threw up."

"Okkaaaaaay," I replied, but made no effort to hurry out of the bathroom. In fact, I stood there for a few minutes so he could handle the situation himself. When I did come out, the stench hit my nose as soon as I came into the room. My husband had a look of utter disgust on his face as he passed by me with vomit soaked paper towels. He attempted to rub them into the carpet and vomit, creating little vomit soaked bits of paper towels burrowed into the fibers. I immediately got some water and a terry cloth towel, stripped the bed, wiped it down with lysol wipes and generally fumigated. (Note to self: May need to reconsider the SAHD option)

The best part? The lion was sitting directly below David's crib and broke the fall of most of the vomit a la the ring cakes in the classic Curb Your Enthusiasm Nanny From Hell episode featuring Sherri Oteri. (Note to self: What ever happened to Sherri Oteri? She was hilarious! Seriously? Will Ferrell? You need to throw this girl some work!)

Bye Bye, Aslan! You are histoire!

Not No Way, Not No How

So apparently, the prospect of strawberry milkshake for breakfast was enough to keep the Fee Fi Fo Monster at bay...for now.

Ok, so I had an epiphany.

Since I had the boys, after the bout with pneumonia when I lost 30 lbs in a few weeks, I have gained about 40 lbs. I could not afford to gain 40 lbs - not no way, not no how - and I'm currently larger than I have ever been.

It's really affecting me, in every way imaginable, from getting breathless to being tired to clothes not fitting to feeling bloated. I could go on. I don't like to shop at Lane Bryant. I used to shop at Ann Taylor and the Gap and all the fun stores. With few exceptions, most of the plus size clothes are just hideous. I hate getting dressed in the morning. I don't recognize my reflection. I've stopped even trying to suck in my perma-twin-skin.

Honestly, I really didn't drastically change my eating habits. I am definitely more sedentary now, but not any more than when I was pregnant with the twins and even then, I gained 25 lbs over time. So, it finally clicked that it might be the Zoloft. Bingo. I'm not sure why that didn't occur to me before? I've taken other SSRI's with the same result (though not this much). It all makes sense as I started on 50 mg when I had the boys and it was only when I increased it to 100 mg late last year that I saw my weight start to balloon.

Long story short, I am now in the process of attempting to wean off of it. It's a slow process, cutting the dose in half, then a quarter, etc.

I just can't live a day longer feeling this way, not no way, not no how! I'm nervous about the med change, but I think it's time to move on and shed the darkness of 2007 like an old, shriveled skin.

(Despite my $hit talking about Lane Bryant, I did visit their local store today and picked up a few things. Imagine my surprise when I saw this banner ad on Facebook, featuring one of the blouses I picked up!)

Calgon...Take Me Away

So the past 2 hours have been off the charts ridiculous. RI-DI-CU-LOUS. Steve is gone working on the old house, getting it ready to be painted this week, so I was single parenting dinner. It's something I do often because even when he's home, Steve isn't always super helpful with mealtimes. You would think he would be, but notsomuch.

The kids were all screaming so hard, it brought me to tears (which I shielded from them.) I don't typically get that frustrated with the kids to that extent, but it was just too much at once. Both boys were inconsolable, refused to eat dinner, were throwing their food on the floor. Sofia was refusing to eat anything I made. I warned her that if she did not sit and eat her dinner, I was going to put away her library books, her most prized possession of the moment. I warned her twice. I counted to 3. She held strong, Taurus that she is and remained completely defiant, so I took the books. You can imagine that scene. Complete hysterics while the boys are simultaneous screeching in stereo, just because.

My sister in law's boys (ages 11, 8 and 5) were home from school today and oh boy, does it show in my kids. I received back 3 mega overstimulated, nap deprived kids who were literally falling apart. I hate days like this. I'm in a pissy mood.

On the bright side, they are all asleep and it's not even 8. That hasn't happened in a long, long time. I think I need a Mike's Hard Lemonade and some Dancing with the Stars.

Bringing Me Back

So last night, I went to visit my friend C. in the hospital. She just gave birth to her first child on Sunday evening.

Her and I used to be best friends (she was my maid of honor and I hers) but drifted apart after our weddings for reasons I can't even begin to get into here. The long and the short of it was that I wasn't fond of her boyfriend (now husband) as he has profound emotional issues & baggage. While I felt badly that she'd made this choice for herself, I didn't necessarily want to get sucked into all the drama. After my wedding, I consciously drifted away from her. She came to showers & we exchanged the occasional email, had lunch a few times, but nothing more than that.

She had a pretty hard time of things with childbirth, laboring for 18 hours before having an emergency c-section. The baby had turned into a facial presentation, from what I understand is extremely rare and very dangerous. I think the whole thing was exhausting and scary. My friend is on the frail side (chronic migraines, tired, sleeps a lot, etc) so I knew she was probably having a hard time of it. I was right.

I went to visit her yesterday and while she seemed in good spirits, she seemed to be in a bit of pain. I asked her if she was at least on some good drugs and she said just Motrin and Tylenol. Oh dear, I thought.

She had told me earlier in the day that the baby's latch was great, wasn't losing a lot of weight, yada yada. When I went to visit, they came to weigh little K. and discovered she'd dropped about 8% of her body weight and were going to "talk" to her about supplementing. I remember that talk so well. The whole thing brought back a lot of memories. Sofia lost closer to 10% of her body weight and I panicked. Supplementing is a slippery slope, but you have to do what you have to do.

I found it very odd that her husband was not there. He apparently wasn't feeling well and was at home. (Seriously? At home? Now I remember why I don't like this guy) I got the sense that he was just overwhelmed from "all the stress." Oh boy! A lot of help he's going to be. Red flag! Secretly, I guess was glad he wasn't there (as his presence is off-putting to me) but sad for her.

My friend is a GRADE A Control Freak and Know It All, which at times is incredibly helpful, at other times, not so much. There was a moment when the baby was fussing quite a bit and she was holding her, trying to get her to calm down and she looked at me for guidance. It's so out of character for her, it really threw me off, although I guess it would make sense.

She looked a bit panic stricken, like "What do I do now?" and I was a bit thrown. "Oh...uh...she probably needs to burp...or be swaddled...or maybe nurse some more..." I offered. I distinctly remember being in the hospital on the second night and having Sofia wailing and not being able to stop her. I started crying and the nurse came in, swaddled her tight and she immediately stopped. I remember at that moment being so thankful that I was staying for 4 days as if I'd gone home that night, I'm not sure I would have known what to do at all.

All of this brings back memories of those early days with Sofia. Those were some good times.

Pure Bliss here



Pure Exhaustion here



Pure Perfection Here

I Need Some Motivation

I don't know what is wrong with me.

I used to be able to lose weight. I lost 80 lbs in 1989 and kept it off for 13 years. I knew about discipline and hard work. I knew about getting up at 5 a.m. to work out, every single day. I knew how to go walk for an hour, even in the rain, because, quite frankly, I knew it was the main thing keeping the weight off and staying thin was so vital to my physical and emotional well-being, I was willing to do whatever it took.

I gained a little bit when I met Steve. Nothing too major, just the standard 15 lb cushion one gains when they are in a safe, comfortable relationship. The workouts went from 2 hrs a day, 6 days a week to a half hour every 3-4 days. We were eating out a lot, sleeping in, traveling, doing what you do.

Then, we got engaged. I joined Weight Watchers and started counting points like a madwoman. I had 9 months to look good in a wedding dress and I was driven. When we went shopping for dresses, I was adamant that I was going to lose at least 40 lbs by the wedding, so we had to keep that in mind. The salespeople's eyes rolled so far back in their head they practically tipped over. I'm sure they hear that from every bride. But I wasn't just any bride. I'm a Taurus, after all. So, they somehow got the fear of god into me and I ordered a dress in a very large size. Fast forward 6 months and I'd lost the 40 lbs. Every time I went for a fitting, they had to keep taking the dress in. The reality was, it had started out so big, no amount of tailoring was going to make it fit right. But I lost the weight and felt GREAT and had an amazing wedding. We went to Hawaii and I was tan and thin and happy.

...And then I started on the whole TTC roller coaster. 3 kids in 2 years does not lend itself to a flat tummy, not that I ever had one to begin with. I started my twin pregnancy already over 200 lbs. I didn't gain an ungodly amount of weight with them (about 30) but I've had a difficult time getting this weight off. When I was hospitalized with pneumonia (1 month post partum with the twins) I lost about 20 lbs in 10 days and was down to the lowest weight I'd been in 5 years. Then, I came home and started to feel better, but was so stressed out that I turned to eating again & gained it back in a few months. And there was no time or motivation to work out. I was in survival mode. I am still in survival mode.

But honestly, here I sit, probably 60 lbs overweight (more if you go by the "charts") and I can't seem to get it off. Not that I've been killing myself trying, but I haven't been eating that much, I've been going for the occasional walk. It's just not happening. I have this permanent 20 week pregnant belly that has become like another limb. I know people think I'm pregnant all the time, I can see it in their eyes. "Is she pregnant again?"

The final nail in the coffin? At the bridal shower on Friday, someone came in who I hadn't seen in a while. She asked who the shower was for, then got the "Awwwww" look on her face and started moving in for a hug. I was mortified. I laughed it off, but boy, nothing like someone actually trying to congratulate you on your pregnancy to light a fire under your ass.

I'm considering buying a treadmill as we have room in the garage and the rain is going to start soon. I have to do something. I see photos of myself and I'm like "Who the hell is that fat chick?"

Maybe looking at my wedding photo will inspire me. I'm just waiting for Sofia to say "Who is that lady with Daddy?"

Defcon 5

So I'm here, in Austin. It's much greener than I expected and lots of rolling hills, also unexpected. I'm going on 3 hours sleep and it's been a long day, but it's been awesome catching up with my friend. Seeing the girls together has been incredibly fun, it's like the last 6 months didn't even happen, they are thick as thieves again.

Sofia had a Stage 5 meltdown at the airport this morning. (I had to wake her up at 3:30 a.m. to leave for the airport - for future reference, not a good idea at all). It was right before boarding the plane, so the entire airport watched her have a tantrum, my dragging her off to a corner so I could attempt to regain control of the situation, etc. This was no ordinary tantrum, this was DEFCON 5 level, crawling on the ground, going limp, body stiffening, shreaking, sobbing, hitting, screaming tantrum. I was near tears myself as I literally was not able to control her and she was lashing out. I knew it was from sheer exhaustion, but all the people staring at me didn't know that. All of a sudden, I was the parent of *that* kid and it was not a good feeling. I was hoping she would sleep on the plane...she didn't. So all day, she was on the verge of - for lack of a better term - manic behavior.

Her and her BFF are now sleeping together, like two peas in a pod. I'm hoping tomorrow I will get my sweet girl back.

Brain Farts and Injuries

So I finally got my butt into the doctor's office to check my foot. I had sprained it a month ago (during the move) but hadn't had time to have it checked out. I figured it was sprained, there was nothing they could do and frankly, didn't have time to run around to appointments if all they were going to tell me was to ice it and elevate it. Today, it got really swollen again and has been aching, so I made the appt to go in. I had an xray and will find out results tomorrow. If it's a fracture, the xray will show this (unlikely) but if it's a soft tissue injury (likely) it won't show this. I've been referred to a podiatrist and will have to have an MRI. Ah, the fun just never ends!!

On a much happier note, I leave for Austin in a week!! This won't be Sofia's first airplane ride (there have been about 8) but it'll be the first she'll remember. She flew quite a bit as a toddler.

Oh yes, let's not forget my huge blonde moment of the day.

I made a point of blowdrying Sofia's hair and putting on a cute outfit for pre-school picture day. I asked the director if Sofia could attend today (it's not her regular day) as I wanted her photo taken, but didn't quite know how I'd have her there for 10 a.m. photos, then back to my sister in law's so I could turn back around and get to work. Fortunately, the director said they had room for her today.

I got an email from the director this afternoon. Picture day was not today, it's next Tuesday. To be fair, we both had brain farts (I specifically asked her if they could take Sofia today for picture day and she said yes), but it was still embaressing. I have forgotten to bring snack twice when I've signed up for it, so I feel like I'm skating on thin ice as it is. I honestly didn't have any excuses, just the usual trying to do too much.

Oh well, Sofia will just have to look cute again next week.

She has been laying down perfectly quiet for 10 minutes while I write this, I almost forgot she was there. She's watching Blues Clues. Is it wrong to use Steve from Blues Clues as a babysitter? Don't answer that.

Those crazy Bluetooth people

I've become one of those people. Those annoying people with the antenna apparatus sticking out of their ear? Talking to invisible people and making you feel indescribably ridiculous when you respond to their conversations, thinking they are talking to you? It's the modern equivalent of waving back to someone who wasn't waving to you...

As of July 1st, it's illegal to drive in California and talk on the cell phone. I've spent the past 6 weeks barking into my speakerphone (a la Jonathon Antin from Blowout). I know I've been doing it to excess when my 3 year old is now mimicking me by sauntering around the house, holding her toy cell up to her mouth and yelling "No, we're not doing that!" or "I told you I was going to be Jasmine!" So, I figured it was about time I got on the Bluetooth bandwagon.

The Signs

Over the past few years, there have been several signs that I am now a Mommy. When the little Victoria Secret bags I toted my lunch to work in were replaced with Gymboree and Baby Gap, that was the first sign. When I ceased to even have an awareness of whether or not I was wearing lipstick when going out in public, that was the second sign. The fact that spending a Saturday night at Chuck E. Cheese with my 3 year old seemed like a good idea, that was by far the strangest sign.

But now comes the ultimate sign. Tomorrow night, I am going to play Bunko with a bunch of moms. It's official. I'm a Mom. Of course, I was told that this evening entails drinking and eating and socializing more than competition, but I have been reading up on how to play so I don't look like an ass.

Wish me luck!

Crackers and Carseats

Sign #437 that I need to start Weight Watchers...

I had several people complement me on my shirt yesterday, including my husband. I didn't have the heart to tell them it was a maternity shirt from Sofia's pregnancy.

This morning, we went and had the boys' carseats turned forward facing. They were so happy, I don't think they quite know what to make of it yet.

I asked the carseat expert guy if 3 carseats can fit in a CRV and he said the Radian could and possibly the Nautilus. Need to look into that.

Ok, how embaressed was I when they took the carseats out and had about half a cup of cracker crumbs fall all over the ground? I turned beet red and listened as he whisked away the crumbs...and whisked...and kept on whisking...I just looked at him as if to say - Hey, mom of 3 here. Crackers are our life.

*****

Saw Mamma Mia last night. It was fun. Colorful. Uplifting. Did I LOVE it? Eh? I wouldn't go that far, but I'm glad I saw it on the big screen. The scenery was definitely a feast for the eyes and has just elevated my desire to travel to Greece to about the 100th degree. One things's for sure, you had better like musicals if you are going to see it as they break into song every - oh, I don't know - 3 minutes? Meryl is great as is the lead and the other actors, it is just very over the top. I think most people would know that going in, but in case they didn't...

Of course, I got home at 11 p.m. to find a disastrous house, not one toy picked up, not one dish or bottle washed. I was livid. I mean, honestly. The kids were down by 7, Sofia by 8, it would have taken 10 minutes to do the dishes and straighten. So, there I was, doing dishes at 11:30. Not a happy camper was I.

The crazy lemonade lady

Just to give you an example of how ridiculously in the clouds my head is...

Last week, I went to get my Large Light Lemonade from McDonald's (a daily staple) and paid the guy, then drove out without stopping at the p/u window.

Truth be told, this is not the first time I have done this.

I did go back and get it and yeah, I could tell they were all laughing at me.

So now I'm super self conscious getting my LLL - I just know they're like "Hey! It's the crazy lemonade lady!! Wonder if she'll forget today!"