Happy Father's Day!

Calvin (about a week old) with my grandpa Joe Middour

Calvin (11 months) with my grandpa Tracy Hinson

Calvin (13 months) with my Daddy at my wedding dinner

Calvin (1 month) with Charlie. This is one of my favorites.

I'm so blessed to have all of these amazing men in my life. They are wonderful fathers and the reason I'm the semi-sane, decent human being I am today :-)

Cross posted to http://thegigglygourmet.blogspot.com/

"I want to lose 3 pounds."

"Oh my god, Karen, you can't just ask people why they're white." 

For those who don't know, these are both quotes from Mean Girls. The title is actually related (somewhat) to this post. The other? Not so much. But it's funny, right? RIGHT! *ahem*

After I had my son, I dropped about 40 pounds within a few weeks. Part of it was the instant loss some experience from having the baby and breastfeeding. Another part of it was me not realizing that I'd actually gained a decent amount of weight without giving it too much thought (because I'm an idiot). Anyway, I've gained most of that back. And I honestly couldn't tell you how much I weigh now. I just guesstimate by the clothes that I wear and how they fit. I have a fear of the digital scale. It's almost a legitimate fear or phobia. Especially the scales that basically give you a "loading" signal before it shows your weight. I feel so intimidated and judged. By a machine. Yes, I am aware how ridiculous I am.

Before I get off on some crazy tangent in which I share too much, I will try to get closer to the point. After a few weeks of self pity and out right disgust, I've set a new goal for myself. It's reasonable and I know I can accomplish it in a healthy, effective way. I would like to lose 10 pounds by Charlie's birthday, which is August 3rd. [I'd also like to do it without spending a bunch of extra money I don't have on questionable supplements and dieting products.] This is the first of many goals but I find that small, reasonable goals work well for me so I will reevaluate once I reach the 10 pound loss. For someone who is only 5'5" and over 200 pounds, I should probably be looking to lose a minimum of 50 pounds or more total. But, for my own sake, I need to keep in mind that slow and steady wins the race.

I've already gotten back into my interval running routine. I use a couch to 5k program that is base on beats per minute so I pace myself better. I do my interval training 3 times a week and walk approximately the same distance on my "off days". I've had 2 or 3 "off days" now because I'm having some joint pains and swelling* issues. However, I am determined to not let this slow me down. I will at the very least be walking 2 to 3 miles everyday, but I am hoping to feel well enough to run intervals. I'm most likely going to have start incorporating more yoga into my workouts as it is low impact exercise and better for my joints.

Along with exercise, it's time to make more changes in how I eat- smaller portions, make an honest effort to keep track of how much water I'm drinking, and put my Paula Dean-like tendencies back into the closet until Thanksgiving. Because I'm sorry. Thanksgiving isn't the same without a boat load of butter, y'all. I'd really like to use less fat and oil altogether. When I need to use fat, I'll be using more olive oil and coconut oil. I will cook at least one meatless meal and one low-carb meal each week. That will probably be the most challenging part, but I'll make it happen. These new meal ideas may also help my budget some, too! Soda has been out of my life for a while, so that's one less hurdle to jump. But sugar is still a problem; less chocolates, ice cream, and sweets in general.

Sounds like a plan. I can totally do this. As an encouragement to myself (and others), I may share some healthier recipes or neat food ideas that I come across or come up with. I think writing about what I'm doing and what's going on will help me stay on track. Now I have to...get on a scale. THE HORROR!

Here's to a healthier...me!

Elle

*The joint pain and swelling aren't new problems. I had some chronic arthritis type symptoms about 2 years ago that seemed to go away after I had Calvin. Now that my body is finally getting back to "normal" 18 months later, I have a feeling a few unpleasant issues are returning. All the more reason to get healthy!


Cross posted to The Giggly Gourmet

I'm so famous, it's like I'm KMD!

Not really. I'm only a teensy bit Internet famous. And KMD is Howie and he was this DJ for this game and...It's a long story. But he's famous and he has a posse. That's all you need to know. Confused yet? Yes? AWESOME! Moving on...

I'm not even really Internet famous. But a few dear friends have brought something to my attention. I was recently named a "gold star mom" for something I posted on Facebook last summer. You can see the special Mother's Day post on STUF, Parents that I am referencing here. The post goes like this:

     'Not having a chance to eat all day, I stopped at Subway on the way back from getting my hair cut. I ate my sandwich in the car while Calvin was asleep in his carseat because I didn't want to share. He's only 10 months old and I'm already "that mom". Sue me.'

8 months later and this is still the case. As soon as he could open his mouth and say, 'aaaahhhh', it was all over. If I have a treat for myself, I save it until my darling child is asleep or I hide in the kitchen while he is playing in the living room. Honestly, sometimes it's not even a treat. Sometimes I just want to eat a meal all by myself, all the way through, while it's still hot, without sharing. It is a lot to ask some days. And the timing of this post coming back to haunt me is hilarious! My husband ate his breakfast upstairs this morning because he woke up after Calvin and I. We had already eaten and Charlie wanted to eat in peace instead of the baby coming up to him saying, "Pease! Pease!" and expecting a bite or seven. Listen, kid. Just because you're all polite and adorable with your "Pease" and "Hank uuu" does not mean you get to eat everything in existence.

Though, on the flip side, the baby-sharing diet can be quite effective. The baby eats half of my meal because the exact same thing that's on his plate isn't good enough. Then, there are some nights I'm too tired after said baby is asleep to even reheat anything. It's not an ideal situation (frankly, it sucks sometimes), but hey. I've lost a pound or two this way.

Oh! It's Friday, isn't it?! Well, technically it's Saturday. Whatever.
___________________________________________

Photo Friday

Charlie, Calvin, and Mr. Puppy the Bear

Have a great weekend!
Elle

PS The blog I linked above [STFU, Parents] contains colorful language and some view points I don't necessarily agree with. It is the view and opinion of another blogger. I referenced it because I was somewhat featured and I am an occasional reader. Though, I'll probably read it a lot more, now!

Photo Friday x 2

I missed last week due to an acute case of Mommy brain. That's my story and I'm sticking to it. So you'll be getting 2 pictures tonight to make up for it. But before I show off my fabulous photography (haha! right), I have a thought that I need to get out of my head. 

I feel like I can no longer hold an adult conversation. Most of my conversations are held with an 18 month old, they typically contain words with less than 2 syllables, I often refer to myself in the 3rd person, and the response I get may or may not contain an actual word. Now that Charlie is off from work, I find that I have a hard time finding things to say to him. I also have a difficult time talking to my friends or family without using 'uh', 'um', or talking in circles. As much as I absolutely adore my son and am grateful for all of the time I get to spend with him, I long for adult conversation and contact. Because, quite frankly, I'm out of practice. 

Okay, enough of that. Onto the pictures. 

The silliest of babies (2013)

Calvin's first baseball game (2012)

2 words I hear multiple times per day, every. single. day. are "bah bahp!" (baseball) and "juice?". So here you have it. Calvin with his precious juice and a bucket hat, and Calvin in his Daddy's lap at his first baseball game. <3

Foto Friday

Typically, in the grand world of the Internet, you're supposed to post your old pictures on Thursday. They call it "Throwback Thursday". They're so clever because those two words begin with the same 2 letters.  So today is [throwback] Foto Friday. See? I can be clever, too! 

Squishy face!

 Here is one of my very favorite pictures. This was taken a year ago, give or take a few days. When I'd help him make this face it had us all giggling. And nearly a year later, squishing his little face like this still sends both he and I into a ball of laughs. Life is too short to go a day without laughter.

<3

Anne Wheaton was right...

Yes. Wil Wheaton's wife was totally right. Cleaning out the silverware drawer by taking everything out and washing it is for suckers. Just use the hose attachment on your vacuum. It will change your life.

This message brought to you by a sudden urge to clean ALL THE THINGS.

Elle

Photo Friday

I'm cutting it a little close, but the little guy has been recovering from a mysterious 24 hour bug-type thing today.

This was the first time I've been able to put Calvin's plate on his tray and him not immediately turn it over. He thinks that this whole feeding himself thing is pretty awesome. And utensils? Those are grand fun. It's bittersweet, honestly. I'm glad he's learning an becoming more independent. At the same time, it's all happening so fast.

You never truly understand "they grow up so fast" until you have a kid of your own.

Elle

Photo Friday

As I've done in my original blog, I'm going to try an experiment. In an effort to keep momentum going and to continue writing, I would like to post a picture (or several) each Friday. It may be will most likely be a picture of my son or husband, or it may be something else I found interesting. Depending on what was going on that day or week, there may or may not be a caption or short post to go along with it. We'll just see how it goes.

Here's my little blue-eyed wonder playing the matching game that came with
our egg-dying kit.

I hope you all have a wonderful weekend!

Elle

We need to stop competing with each other and just live!

So now, not only am I inadequate for being a stay-at-home mother but I also "don't know what real stress is" because I only care for one child. Let me start over--

I read a blog post via a friend's Facebook today. I could really relate to it. I didn't necessarily agree with every single word she said, but I also realized that it was written from her perspective and the thoughts she shared were based on her own experiences. That is often what blog posts consist of. Remember old school, hand-written diaries and journals? Remember how personal they were and what someone wrote in them would  often be based on their own experiences? Well a blog is like that (a lot of the time), only it's digital and instead of locking it up it can be shared with people all over the world. So back to that post...

The author is stay-at-home mom. Instead of going to a job outside of the home, she stays at home to take care of the kids and keep up with the day to day running of the household. Her children are her "employers". She doesn't get paid, but in turn she does not have to pay for childcare. Her husband goes to work and comes home to help out with the kids, spend time with his family, and probably do more work (whether it be job related or something around the house). There are many pros and cons to this situation, but ultimately this is what works best for her family. I'm in a similar position. While I'm currently looking for part-time work and have worked part-time in the past, I have primarily been a stay-at-home mom to my son Calvin for all of his 17 months. My husband, Charlie, has been the one to work full-time in order to pay the bills and provide for our family. It's not always an ideal situation, but after careful consideration and weighing our options, this is how we chose to live our lives. Ultimately it comes down to the fact that it just works for us. At least for now.

As I was nearing the end of the post, I was debating with myself. "Should I read the comments or just steer clear of the possible rage reading them might bring?" I'm sure you can make a good guess as to what choice I made since I'm here writing up my own blog entry. The further down in the comments section I read, the angrier I got. So many people were taking offense to what Mrs. King wrote. They were taking it personally as if she was making a generalization about every family with no room for differences. Then there were comments to the comments. Men were upset because she only mentioned being a stay-at-home mom. Men were also upset because they assumed that she meant that all men came home after work and kicked back to relax rather than help with dinner or the kids. Working parents were mad because she didn't mention the sacrifices they make or the moments they miss. Aunts, uncles, same sex couples, grandparents-anyone and everyone was offended because their specific situation wasn't mentioned. By the time I stopped myself from reading anymore ridiculous comments all I could really think was that I'm a bad person for wanting to stay home with my son. I'm also a bad person because I'm not a man. I'm lazy because I only have one kid and don't rush to the door with slippers and a paper in hand when my husband gets home from work. WHAT?! And it's not just this particular blog that can make me think those things. Every single day we are judging others and making assumptions based on little to no context. We make snide comments because we don't agree with someone else's choices or we obviously know better. We get angry and say mean things to one another simply because we can.

Stop it. Just stop it! All of you. Take a step back from the keyboard. Deep breath in...and out. Better? Good, pressing on. Your neighbor's life is completely different from yours. His or her family has a very unique history. That person living halfway across the world that you just yelled at because they are raising their child in way that is contrary to everything you know is from a different culture. That family with 6 kids? They aren't doing anything wrong, they're just doing what works best for them. And that is the point- do what is best for you and your family. That's all you have to do. Leave everyone else be. There is enough negativity in this world already. We don't need to be at each other's throats because each of our families have varying ways of doing things.

On my very best day, I still wonder if I'm getting this whole parenting thing right. I always question myself and the choices I make for my family. But at the end of that same day, I put my son to bed and I am certain I'm on the right track. Things might not be perfect, but we're doing the best we can and that's pretty fantastic.   I honestly believe that's all you can do. Do your best. Strive to be the best you can be and don't worry about keeping up with the Joneses. And please stop yelling at the Joneses for sharing their personal experiences.

Elle

PS I know this was long-winded. If you made it this far, thank you very much for reading.

Wheee!

Calvin (about a week old) and Saffron when things were a lot more quiet

This morning I was watching the cat run in horror and jump the baby gate like an Olympic hurdler as Calvin was running behind her giggling and squealing. While this scene was completely hilarious and still makes me smile thinking about it, something in the back of my mind was nagging at me. About 5 minutes later I figured it out. Once upon a time, I was the cat. And my Uncle Joey with his yellow RC car was Calvin. I'll never forget the story that my great Aunt Jeanie and my Momma used to tell.

First, you may need a little back story. I was born in Pennsylvania and lived there for the first 18 months of my life. We lived with my grandparents for a while, then moved into a tiny apartment over a restaurant in downtown Waynesboro. Even then, we were over at the farm a lot. I was the first grandchild, my parents were very young when I was born, and Momma's siblings all still lived at home at the time. For a while my Uncle Joey, Momma's younger brother, didn't really know what to think about me; he didn't have much experience with babies. But apparently, when I started walking, he figured out what I was good for. I was good for chasing.

One fairly quiet day, everyone was going about their business. They were probably getting food ready. Anyway, all of a sudden this scream could be heard throughout my grandparent's entire farm house. Then they said they got a quick glimpse at me running through the room (I was running for my life!). Right behind me was an RC car being controlled by my Uncle Joey who was bringing up the rear giggly like a mad scientist. At least, that's how I remember the story.

That stupid car is still around, too. To this day I often have not-so-nice dreams about being chased by yellow cars. Now I know how Saffron must feel.

Elle

PS It's may not be the most interesting story, but I'm not the best story-teller in the world. I'm hoping to learn that skill as I get older. My great Aunt Jeanie and my Grandma Hinson were the best story tellers in the world. I miss them both so much and I love being reminded of them through the stories they told.

This could get a little awkward...

That's not only the title of the post, it's a warning. Ready?

Some unpleasant things have happened to a few dear friends of mine recently. I won't speak of their situations specifically, but I will say that the things that have taken place are unpleasant enough for me to go to a prayerful state of mind. Yes. I pray.

I pray to a God that I fully believe in. I consider myself to be a Christian. I'm not always good one, but I do try to be. I attend the same non-denominational church I've been going to since I was young. I've attended other churches with friends, but ultimately found that I don't agree with what those churches stand for as much as I agree with the one I currently attend. Though, if you take away nothing else from reading this, I hope you will remember the following: I do not agree with everything my chosen church teaches. I don't not think that my beliefs are absolute and everyone else is wrong. There are a good many points I take issue with. Over the past few years, my faith has been even tested by members of that church. But I press on because that's just how I am. I enjoy the company and fellowship of my fellow church members and it's a place where I feel safe. I don't talk about faith and religion much. It's a very private part of my life; not because I'm ashamed, but because I don't feel the need to put it out there to be judged. I also believe that if you so chose, you should find your own path to God. You don't need to follow mine. So I keep to myself. I'm happy to answer questions or direct you to a person/place where you can find answers, but I'm not an evangelist. I make far too many mistakes and am not comfortable enough in my spiritual and biblical knowledge to be a leader of any kind. I honestly don't want that responsibility.

All of that aside, the most important aspect of my personal faith is prayer. Praying helps me collect my thoughts, it calms me down, it gives me comfort, and I can do it when ever and where ever I want. Most of the time you won't even know I've done it. And hey, if it turns out that I'm completely wrong about God, then my thoughts and wishes are still sent out into the universe. I'm confident those thoughts and wishes will find their way to the person that needs them one way or another.

I understand that faith, spirituality, religion, and/or prayer isn't for everyone. I'm okay with that. As much as I may disagree with someone else's beliefs, I'm certainly not in any position to judge them. That's not my job. I've come to the conclusion that my purpose in this life is pretty simple. I'm here to be a friend, a wife, a daughter/granddaughter/niece/cousin, a mom, and a good person. I'm here to try to make the world a better place. That's it. In it's most basic form, that is my purpose. One way I know to achieve that is to pray.

This is going to get mixed responses; mostly silent ones. Some of you will just go, "Okay." Others will be disappointed in me. A few may appreciate what I've said. You don't have to like it or agree with it. All I can ask is that you respect it. Whatever your reaction is, thank you for taking the time to read this.

Elle

Rough 'n' Tough

Today was a rough one. I have expected to have some hard days- days when I'm really challenged. But this one is getting to me.

Calvin wouldn't nap yesterday or today. He's getting into things he knows he shouldn't. And while he hasn't quite gotten the hang of listening when we say, "no!", he acted like we didn't even exist today. He's been pushing his limits and testing us to see just how far he can go. I know exactly what's going on and I know that he is at that stage in his development. After our little ones learn to walk and gain some independence, most of them start testing things out. Their entire lives are one gigantic experiment and they are the tiny mad scientists. This experimentation includes seeing just how far they can push mommy and/or daddy.

Well today was the day for Calvin to launch that test, apparently. He threw a temper tantrum like none I've ever witnessed from him. I hope and pray I never have to see...well mainly hear it again. [Yes I know that is completely unrealistic, but hush. A mommy can dream!] He was getting into all of the baskets on his diaper changing table; pulling things out, flinging stuff all over his room, trying to open bottles, etc. Well, he got a hold of the Vaseline container and managed to get it open. That was the last straw for me. I did not need grease all over everything. I had a terrifying flash in my head of what might happen if he had it in his possession for a second longer. I snatched it from him, smacked his hand and started yelling. I just lost it**. Charlie came in and grabbed him and that's when it started. He was whining after I smacked his hand, but when his daddy came in, he knew he was in trouble. About 15 minutes into this episode of crying and screaming, Charlie put him in his crib. Calvin was to stay in there (with Charlie sitting in the chair across from him), until he chilled the eff out. I couldn't deal with the screaming. I had a really hard time with it. Charlie was a champ, though. He wasn't overly mean, but he was focused on getting Calvin to chill out. I just wanted to pick the baby up, give him his juice and cry. We are not the "cry it out" kind of parents. We do fall on more of the attachment parenting side of the line so leaving our child alone to scream for hours on end just isn't our style. In our mind it does more harm than good. Contact and communication is important in cases like this, even at this age. And most of the time Charlie and I agree on what actions to take when it comes to discipline or preventative actions. But today, I'm so grateful Charlie was there to take control of things because my head was not in a good place. Charlie did an awesome job handling both myself and the baby.

Like I said, I knew exactly what was going on. I told Calvin, "No!" repeatedly and he kept pushing the limit. He's got a strong will just like me. [Congratulations Momma and Daddy! The "curse" worked; I had one just like me.] I knew that he was just testing me and that this really is part of his development, but I still got angry. I got too angry. I got angry partly because I'm tired. If Calvin doesn't nap, I don't nap. And I still rely on that one or two-hour stretch where I can have some quiet time in the middle of the day to rest. It's why I can afford to sleep a little less at night. But neither of us have been getting that. So my brain isn't rested and it's already a little out of focus. Add to that the fact that this kid has a gazillion toys, but he'd rather have something he shouldn't. So instead of focusing on teaching him that those weren't to be played with, I just got pissed.

I'm trying not to beat myself up about it too much. It won't be the last time I get angry with my little guy over something that ultimately, in the grand scheme of things, just doesn't matter. It's difficult to not be listened to; to not feel respected. And while it's normal to feel upset about that, I've got to keep in mind that he's new here. He's only 15 months old and he has SO much to learn. He can't completely grasp the concept of listening to me because I know better. He doesn't know how to say "respect" much less what it means. I've got to remember to focus on breathing and being calmer even if that means walking away for a minute or two. Because I hate feeling so angry like I did today.

Elle

**I do not hit/spank/beat my child. I firmly tap the back of his hand with mine. That is my typical form of punishment. The worst I've done is popped his bottom once while he was wearing a rather thick cloth diaper and the little punk just laughed. While sometimes raising my voice is the only way to get Calvin's attention, I try to watch my temper. Today, however, I yelled. A lot.

You know you're getting older when...

I'll be 27 this year. It hit me about 2 weeks ago that I'm just that much closer to 30. I have a kid. I'm a wife. My 10 year high school reunion will be next summer. Where in the world did all the time go? I'll admit I'm nervous about turning 30. And for someone that has never had a problem turning another year older, I feel really odd about it.

I began to realize that I'm getting older when I started listening to NPR. I take their politics with a grain of salt, but I'd rather listen to NPR than any other talk shows or the same songs being played over and over again on the other FM stations. But, I think it hit home the most when I started to think about what I'd like for my birthday this year. The first things that came to mind? A compost tumbler, lumber for raised beds/planters, a deck box, a new (to me) couch, a membership to Costco or our local recreation center (rec center would probably be better because we can walk to it, unlike Costco which is 45 minutes away), and bras (because the newest bra I have I bought before Calvin was born. I mean, really.)

The point here is not that I'm putting my birthday wishlist out for everyone to see so they will buy me things. Honestly. The point is that my wishlist no longer consists of Wellies, clothes, nail polish, mp3 players, concert tickets, etc. I want sensible, useful, practical things as gifts. What. The. Hell?!

Okay fine. So I watch Doctor Who and fantasize about David Tennant coming to swoop my family and I away in a Tardis for fabulous adventures. I still have dreams at night of being Wendy having the time of my life with Peter and the lost boys in Neverland. And I still like blanket forts and stuffed animals. But now I'd only go with David Tennant I could bring Charlie and Calvin. I read Peter and Wendy's adventures to Calvin before his bedtime and will, in turn, dream about it. Calvin has inherited my stuffed animals. And Charlie and I plan on teaching our son the vital importance of building blanket forts when he's old enough.  So I guess I still get to live out my child-like tendencies through my son while I'm...growing up.

I'm sure this is something many young, first time parents go through. One day you're graduating high school. Then college is SUCH a big deal. Then you graduate and have to get a job. Paying your bills and having enough money left over for the concert next week makes you responsible. Then you're married and having a kid and you're right about where I am right now...

It's weird and conflicting and exciting and did I mention it's weird?

Elle

Something New

Well, here we are again. Yet another blog that I may or may not keep up with. I'm hoping to use this as more of a journal than a public, "Hey you! Read this!" type of thing. Many posts will likely be public, but I'd like it to still have a "Dear Diary" feel to it. I want a space where I can talk plainly and not have to try so hard at being witty. I want to be able to talk about my relationship with my husband. I want to talk about being a mother. I want to talk about how I'm really wanting and trying to improve myself. I want to be a better daughter, wife, mother, and just a better person in general. 

For the most part? I'm a happy person. I love to laugh and giggle; I think it's good for the soul. I'm a smartass and sarcasm is my middle name. My favorite movies are comedies. I enjoy finding the good in life. Sure I have fleeting moments of sadness or anger. There are a few topics that make me particularly tearful or ragey. But I work hard to not focus solely on those things. I feel it's important to look for the good, even in a bad situation. Depending on the situation, it can be difficult to keep that in mind, but I do try. Even with that, I know I can be better.

I'm not perfect. I have a LOT of things I need to work on in my life. I need to manage my time better. I need to focus on breathing when I get angry instead of just yelling and lashing out. I want to be stronger physically and emotionally. I want to focus my energy doing the most good I can. I want to have the courage to take my ideas and actually put them to use. I want to follow through with the tasks I say I will do. I need to be more active. I want to be able to teach my son meaningful skills and help him reach his milestones. I want to be the best mother I can be. I want to have a strong, lasting relationship with Charlie that will grow and flourish and make us both better for it. And I'm pretty certain that I can accomplish these things eventually.

It certainly does help to talk things out. So, I guess that's why I'm here...