Adorableness. And Regret.

<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<WARNING: This post is kinda all over the place. My intention was to ramble about the cuteness of my kids for a minute, and it turned into a confession about things that make me sad. Sorry. But sometimes you just have to let things out, and this is something that I should've let out long ago, that I didn't, so here. Accept me, judge me, I care not. It is what it is. No more pretenses.>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

Realized today that every time my daughter is upset with me, she goes to her brother for a hug. Oh my how that melts my heart!!! As stressful as it has been to raise two children so close in age (barely a year apart - and always coming up with new ways to torture me. Seriously. Read this. <--- Links to an example of torture. Terrible isn't it?) Motherhood is not for the faint of heart (or faint of stomach either!) but I wouldn't trade it for anything. Being a stay at home mother of two may not have been my original plan, but oh my how I love it! I had very different dreams before becoming a mom. Sometimes I look back at them and I wonder how things may have been had I made different decisions five years ago... but I honestly don't think I would be any more or less happy than I am now. Just... different. That's not so bad. I certainly don't have regrets. I only have two serious regrets in my life. TWO THINGS that I would trade serious amounts of money to be able to go back and change. What is it you ask?

1. The decision to find out the sex of my second child before she was born. I know that may seem like no big deal to some of you, but it was a very difficult decision for me. And 2. The way that I handled, and who I allowed to handle, everything that went on while I was in labor with my daughter.

Let me explain.

With my first pregnancy, I staunchly refused to find out the sex of the baby ahead of time. I told the nurses and the ultrasound tech that I didn't want to know and to delete it out of my file so that no one could tell me. So that's what they did. Once I'd gotten brave enough to make that decision it seemed like no big deal. I told everyone to give me sensible things at my shower, gender neutral blankies, lots and lots of diapers, money for while I was a single mother on maternity leave, etc. And let me tell you. It was freaking AMAZING. As soon as I told people I didn't know, and that there was absolutely no way for anyone to find out, the debating, betting, and arguing began. There were staunch supporters of either gender and I set out to love, and find a name for him/her, no matter what. It was SOMUCHFUN! My best friend and labor coach had decided that little baby was a girl. Every time she spoke to, or about, the baby it was her this and her that all over the place. She would tell off anyone who said otherwise, and there were quite a few who disagreed. I decided at about 6 months pregnant that Code Name Floyd (which is what we called my pregnancy before I was ready to tell everyone) would be Devaniegh Faith if best friend was correct, and was completely undecided about a boy name. It took months to find and fall in love with the name Izaak, and I was out of time trying to find a middle name, it was crazy. When I went into labor everyone I knew piled into the hospital and drove the nurses crazy. Running in and out of my room, still debating the sex, making sure he/she hadn't popped out yet, it was glorious pandemonium. I was in labor for just over 24 hours. I tried to go drug free and it stressed my body out so much that after 20 hours of contractions I was not even halfway ready to push. One epidural, four hours of sleep, and fifteen minutes of pushing later, I had a sweet (disgustingly covered in gook) beautiful little boy in my arms, and a best friend who was freaking out that he was in fact, definitely, not a girl. It was overall an amazing experience. (We had finally decided on the name Mallin as a middle name. After our friend Bobby.) I wouldn't change a minute of it.

Now with my second pregnancy I felt pressured into finding out the sex as soon as possible. My friends wanted to throw me a "real" baby shower (which was sweet - but o.m.g. GAG e.v.e.r.y.t.h.i.n.g. I got was pepto-freaking-bismol-PINK. Unfortunately that's not an exaggeration. We got ONE item that wasn't pink, and it was an adorable little rainbow striped dress that she started wearing at about 5 months old, and still wears even now as a baby doll t-shirt. Seriously.) After finding out that she was a girl we were able to find a name we loved after just a few months, Aryella Eve, and the debate was that everyone thought that I was pregnant with twins because I was soooooo freaking huge. Nope. just one baby. I was huge because I craved butter and gained about 70 pounds. It wasn't pretty. I set a plan in place for how things would be while I was in labor, because I genuinely thought that I didn't want everything to be quite as insane as it had been the first time around. I wanted Jayce to have all of his attention on me, so I told him to relay all labor updates to one of my friends, and to have her relay updates to everyone else so that he wouldn't be on the phone all the time. I was trying to be a control freak and I seriously regret it. As far as the actual labor goes, I trusted experience and got an epidural early on, was only in labor for about 5 hours, most of which I slept through - which was nice, and the most astonishing thing about the experience was that Jayce almost fainted when he saw her coming out. The friend that I had relaying information was a total bitch about everything when she talked to people. She caused A TON of drama between me and some of my absolute closest friends that had to be worked out in the days after my labor when I should have been resting. Because of things she said only two or three people came to see me in the hospital, and it was disappointing. my relationship with her was never the same again, and we aren't even friends anymore. Haven't spoken in over a year. (Which I know has more to do with decisions I've made other than this experience, but those decisions are ones I will NEVER regret.) Folks, I love love love my daughter. I wouldn't change anything about her. I would definitely change my behavior and decisions at the time she was born though.

Me vs. Food - Me:0 Food:1

Well, folks. I have no self-control. Seriously though, I did a lot better yesterday making conscious good decisions about my food intake than I did on Day 1. So I have some self-control. We'll say my self-control is building. Okay.

Day 1: I went 1,402 calories over my daily goal intake.
Day 2: I went 1,440 over. Actually though, I would have been right at my goal if I hadn't broken down and had a cup of Starbucks. Which, even with non-fat creamer, has over 500 calories in it. And a few drinks with my dinner... Vodka Sours. Definitely contributed to the overage. BUT SOOOO YUMMY.

Now, I do know that losing weight isn't just about counting calories and carbs, BUT I have to make myself accountable for the amount of food that I'm eating just because I'm stressed. I will never be able to maintain a healthy weight and lifestyle if I don't force myself to break the habits of eating even when I'm not hungry. And apparently drinking things that I'm not supposed to... Like anything other than water... :/

I'd say yesterday was an OKAY day.

It would have been a GOOD day if I had made time for an hour of exercise.

It would have been a GREAT day if not only had I exercised, but not had that stupid Starbucks as a snack or alcohol with my dinner.

Now, I'm struggling with setting a time of exercise aside in my day. I kept telling myself, that I would "make time for it later" aaaallllllll dddaaaaaayyyyyyy lllloooooonnnnng. I didn't. I cleaned my house. I folded laundry. I washed dishes. I fed/bathed/dressed/cared for my children. But not once did I make a point to engage in a physical activity. I just kept putting it off. So today, I am going to take the kids to the park to hike on the nature trail after lunch. Maybe we'll have enough fun that we can make a habit of it. That would be great.

In other news on the home-front: My son called my daughter a bitch yesterday. We DO NOT use this kind of language in front of our children, so I seriously doubt that he actually knows what it means. I asked him, and he said he didn't know, and that he doesn't know where he heard it, or who said it. Basically he's not admitting to anything. We had a discussion about how adults sometimes use words that aren't very nice, and that "bitch" was one of those words. I explained that it was not a word that he should use, because it can hurt people's feelings, and being the compassionate little fellow he is, he promised not to say it again because he doesn't want to hurt people. I REALLY hope he follows through with that one. I'm hoping I handled it the  way I should have. Being a parent is certainly complicated. Lol!


P.S. Oh yeah! I almost forgot about the "before" pics for my journey... I did take some, but I look a hot mess. So... just. Be warned.

Please read this!

Thank you to everyone for your thoughts and prayers and well wishes. We appreciate it so much. Part of this last week has really brought a lot of us in the family to the realization that it is too often death which brings us together. There are some members of my family whom I only see once a year. If that. Literally. I would really like to do whatever I can to change that. We really don't live that far away from each other, and I suppose that means there are not many excuses for letting things go on the way that they have. I think that sometimes we get to caught up in the details of our own lives that sometimes extended family can become somewhat of an obligation. Letting this continue isn't a regret that I can bear to live with. (If your family isn't like this, then thank God. It's a treasure.) I hate that our distant relatives are so... distant. It's not something I can blame on anyone but myself either. I can't remember the last time I went out of my way to forge a closer relationship with any of them. But I'm going to now. It's not like we're going to live forever, and hopefully my life, our lives, the lives of our children, will only be richer from the effort.

Also, and this may be cheesy or cliche - but it is what it is, this week was a huge eye opener for me health-wise. I am obese. There is a serious amount of family history of not only obesity, but heart conditions and diabetes as well. I have got to make a change in my life, not only for me and what little bit of vanity I have left at this point, but for my children as well.

Let's look at it this way. Children who are raised by parents who have eating habits like my own (unhealthy emotional overeating, bad habits of binge eating with unhealthy foods, not enough balance of raw fruits and vegetables vs. junk food that makes me feel better, etc.) Children with one obese parent are 50% more likely to become obese by the age of 5 and stay that way. Children who remain obese up into the 10 - 13 age range have an 80% chance of being an obese adult. (All these statistics, and more, can be found at http://www.aacap.org/cs/root/facts_for_families/obesity_in_children_and_teens) I know my children are only 2 and 4, but I am endangering their chances at being healthy for the rest of their lives with my behavior. That is completely unacceptable in my eyes, so I have been looking into tools to help me regain control over my eating habits, my emotional issues, and my life as a woman and as a parent.

I currently weigh in at 245lbs. and my BMI is currently a whopping 42. I am only 5'4". My goal weight is 146lbs. - 150lbs. with a BMI of 25. I can do this. It's almost 100lbs. Which is a huge goal for me, but I believe with a proper overhaul in my eating habits, a moderate amount of exercise, and a TON of support. I CAN DO THIS. I have to.

SO, I've tried "dieting" and it is not for me. I have had a gym membership, and it basically was a flop. Programs where I have to do this on my own do me no good. I started looking into the Thrive!Weightloss Program, and while it seems like exactly what I'm looking for, I just don't have the funds to sign up for it right now. Fortunately, a friend of mine from high school posted a link on facebook yesterday for http://www.myfitnesspal.com/ which is basically everything that Thrive! offers on it's online version from what I can tell. It has a lot of helpful tools for helping you track what goes into your body as far as food and exercise, helps track your goals for both, and respective progress of course, and I already made an account. Best of all, it's free. And there's an app for my phone which makes it even easier to keep track of my day, and keep myself accountable. This entire plan, by the way, starts yesterday.

Yesterday I wrote everything I put into my mouth into the food diary without making any changes to my normally terrible eating habits. I consume twice the amount of calories that I should on any given day. Which is scary, because I really don't eat that much. It's the quality of food that I'm eating. The food I registered in my nutritional counter yesterday was all fat, carbs, and cholesterol and almost no nutrients. The coffee I get at Starbucks almost every day has 815 calories in it, not to mention almost all of the sugar I should consume in a day. It was definitely an eye opener. If I continue to eat and live the way that I do right now, I will never be able to be the person that I should, that I deserve to be, the parent that my kids deserve, and I will always be miserable.

CONFESSION: The worst part of being an emotional over-eater is that eating calms me down, makes me feel better, so much so that sometimes it's a reflex now rather than an outright decision. BUT a large portion of my stress and self-disgust comes from my weight. They way that I look. The way that I feel. It effects every aspect of my life in a detrimental way, but I still do it because it makes me feel better even if it's just for a minute. A lot of people in my life have no clue that this is the kind of person that I am. I portray to the world, that I am confident, beautiful, and that I love the way I look. That's part of the reason why I'm putting it all out there. No more pretending. No more pretenses. Most days I really hate myself. I eat normally and healthy when I'm around friends and family, and then when my kids lay down for a nap I add butter and cheese to a can of ravioli, mix it up and eat it like soup. I feel guilty, but it doesn't stop me. Whenever I've asked people before to keep me accountable, I've stuck with it for a few weeks, and then started lying to them about what I ate because I was ashamed. I can't do it anymore. If I keep it up it will kill me and harm my children.

I am officially ready to make a change, be honest about it, and be the person that I know I am rather than the one I have been. Who's with me?

P.S. I was going to post a "before" photo but I don't even have a picture of myself that includes any amount of my body. Seriously. So, I'll take one this afternoon, and that can be tomorrow's post.

Okay, wow.

So, I know I've been entirely too long between posts you guys, BUT a ridiculous amount has been going on around here lately, and the "having-time-to-type-it-all-up" just HAS NOT been there. I do have a few minutes right now though, so here we go!

1. After finishing the bridesmaid's dresses I sort of shut down for a few days. I also came to the realization that until both of my children are in school, I won't be able to take on any more large scale projects or commissions. Sad day. Sad face. Sad me. However, it's reality. I have too much on my plate already as a mom/housewife/daughter/friend/alterative that when I add a huge commission or project, there is no balance. I end up procrastinating until I only have a few weeks or days to finish the project, and then I have to neglect most (or all) other duties until the commission is finished. While this allows me to continue to produce beautiful work, and makes me feel creatively accomplished... It's completely exhausting. It's not fair to my children. It's not fair to my husband. It's not fair to my sister, who in her kind and generous self found the courage to come clean our house, cook our meals, and care for our children, while I holed up in my sewing room for a week. SO, despite the gorgeousness of these dresses...

Sorry I don't have a better picture than this yet. Lol! I seriously love this one though, it's super cute!

They are my last big project for about the next year...

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2. We have inherited a kitten. Her name is now Kitty Gir.

For those of you who are familiar with Invader Zim, yes. That's where the name came from. 

I know, I know, I did in fact post on facebook that we couldn't keep her. The truth is, we love her, and we are keeping her despite the fact that we probably shouldn't. Reasons why we shouldn't? Those have to wait. I wanted to tell you guys now, but was told we have to wait till the end of the year to make THAT general announcement. Those of you who are privileged enough to already know... SSSSSHHHHHHHHHHH. It's still a secret.

Now, Moving on. Anyone who knows me well, also knows that I am not a huge fan of having pets. I have many reasons, among those being that growing up we had a zillion pets all the time and while occasionally that was super-cool, most of the time it kinda sucked. I hated having to clean up after them... the responsibility of it all... and well... I was a kid. We had 4 dogs, 2 cats, 3 birds, 2 horses, and a whole freaking flock of chickens. Not to mention the random snakes and lizards that we took in on a regular basis as well. So yeah, I've resisted the urge to have a pet around the house. BUT this kitten was in need of rescue, not to speak too badly of our neighbors (I won't say which ones), but they dumped her in the street because they didn't want her. TWICE. Evie was the one that found her both freaking times. Ridiculous.

Also, we've tried having puppies. I have given the pet thing a try. I'm not a completely heartless bitch. Two different pups in the last year actually. Both of them have been given away to better homes. I don't like to talk about it. Apparently I am not a dog person. Enough said. Good thing Kitty Gir is a kitten, right? Lol! 

Another factor, I have constantly stated that  it's impossible enough to be potty training children, I don't want to have to house break an animal at the same time. Well, Kitty Gir is apparently already litter-box trained. Not a single accident in four days, and my husband is somewhat frustrated that she's not given us a reason to re-home her. 

So then we're thinking, a small petite little 8 week old kitty will never last between our two rambunctious heathens... Right? Well. That was probably the assumption on which we were most incorrect. Sweet Evie treats her like a rag doll, flopping her everywhere, and the damn cat loves it. Seriously she does just about anything either of the kids wants her to, and when she gets tired of playing she goes upstairs and hides in my closet. (SSSSHHHHHH, don't tell Izaak and Evie her hiding spot!) She's an angel with the kids. 

Seriously.

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3. My Nana passed away this week. She was 84 years of awesome. 

This is the woman who was so strict one minute, and the next we'd be cuddled on the couch watching soap operas. She was a pillar of strength, wisdom, and absolute faith. 

She is the woman who taught me how to wear a dress in public, all about the love of God, how to iron my clothes, how to sew, and how to cook bacon without burning it. She was fair, she was a spit-fire, she was so loyal. She got her driver's license for the first time, and bought her first car, at the age of 61. She was comfortable, and solid, set in her ways. Nana was a collector of salt and pepper shaker sets. Seriously, she had 409 unique sets from all over the world. Every time we went to her house we would help her dust them and then sit in the hall and use them to play out fantastical stories. I'll be meeting up with my aunt soon to get a few. I'll show you guys then, there were some really amazing pieces. Also, when she let her guard down she was an absolute romantic at heart. 

This is the woman who moved to Michigan and married my grandfather after her first love went off to war (and had decided to try out some local flavor), they were reconnected by some mutual friends and fell in love all over again. When she was in her seventies. This is, of course, after having laid Papa to rest many years before (he passed when I was only 2 years old.) After having raised five children. After being a loving and proud grandmother of seven, and an even more proud great-grandmother of eleven. Even in her advanced stages of dementia she fell in love with him yet again in the form of a sweet little old man who lived down the hall from her in the nursing home. Ty, even though you weren't my papa, thank you for giving my grandmother some of the happiest years of her life. Especially this last one. You gave her something to hold onto, even though it may have just been a memory, you brought her the greatest joy in her last year on earth. 

I can only hope to be the kind of woman that she would have been proud of. I love you Nana.

Nana with my dad and her daughters on her 84th birthday last month. Rest in peace. <3 

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