Look at mE

Eighty pounds.  That was my pregnancy weight gain. During the last few weeks of  being an incubator I  looked like Jabba the Hut from the Star Wars movies. Yes, indeed.   Multiple chins, my body spread wide with swelling.  My glasses barely fit on my face. The only thing missing was a slug like tale.

Within one a week of my blueberry making his way into the world forty lbs of water weight drained from my body.

And since then, every extra prego pound has stayed put.  Made a home.

Last night after our bath time my little wonder was still ready to play play play. Even though he was yawning and rubbing his eyes, his mama was home and he so desperately wanted her full playtime attention.

I was drained.  Another long day. Another long work week
I am always tired.
I never eat a regular meal.  At work and at home I graze.
I never exercise.  After a week at work it takes all my energy to try to help with the house work and play with E.
And the most depressing----my pre-pregnancy clothes still do not fit. All my pretty blouse, the favorite jeans, the cozy sweaters.
I am in a constant state of feeling frumpy dumpy.

I have never been a thin woman.  That is not the goal. It is more simple and more complicated at the same time. I want to feel good, look good, and play well for my son...for my little family.

So last night, after that sweet boy shined his tired eyes at me I decided enough was enough. Even if I just took baby steps something had to give. I made a pact with my blueberry.  After the grazing supplies of quick eats was gone from our kitchen,  mama would only bring home water and things for easy-baby-on-your-hip real meals. I still have to eat the grazing food---in moderation--cause the wallet is to slim to waste any food that enters the kitchen. But the goal is to slowly replace it with the right things.

I worry about the diet of my blueberry.  Three meals a day.  Fruits. Vegetables. Healthy babe appropriate snacks.  The good doctor has stressed to me how important it is for a baby's growth, metabolism, and digestive tract development to carefully monitor their diet.  He said that we have a whole lifetime to experiment with food and taste, but that as  babies it is more about health and wellness first.

And our E's weight and growth is perfect and on track. I need to model my son's example.

This morning when I woke to his morning "come get me lets go mama" calls, I was energized to start planning my new venture back to wellness.

And
then....

There they were. Chocolate covered mini-donuts on the kitchen counter. A fresh gallon of milk in the fridge. Morning gifts from my dear D.

Darn it. It is that time of the month when the site and smell of anything chocolate or salty triggers my cravings.

E had banana oatmeal and apples for breakfast.
Mama had a donut, toast, tea, and a pear.

I did say baby steps, right?

(Please note: the wonderful new floor in the background that Daddy installed all by himself last weekend.  I was around for moral support.  I love it.)

My E and Mrs. G

My little blueberry is so blessed.  He has an assortment of grandmothers and grandfathers to dote on him. To tell him how cute, how smart, how wonderful his precious baby soul lights up their life.

My grandmothers once did the same for me.

I miss them. 

I would have loved for them to have held my E...hear his giggle...to have felt the warmth of his genuine loving nature.  My grandmothers were a motley crew. They had a variety of different natures----one had a colorful vocabulary and enjoyed a cold beer---while another was faithful to her church and smelled of Coty powder.  And my dear great grandmother was almost as round as she was short. These ladies loved me.  Each made me feel special every moment I was with them. Watching MASH reruns and  singing hymns fill many memories of my childhood.

And then there is Mrs. G.

She is my mother's neighbor of 30 odd years. A woman who is a wonderful attentive grandmother to her own family. My brother and sister and I are lucky that she also spread her attention to us during our youth. For years she watched us play from her kitchen window as she washed her dishes. She was the first report to our mother.  She watched over us while my mother worked and attended college.  There was no sneaking or fighting---because Mrs. G would witness it from that kitchen window. When we locked our selves out from our house, she and her husband were always waiting with cookies in their warm kitchen (the house key was always missing and we siblings  blamed each other for where it had gone). And like my grandmothers she would dote.  Tell us how handsome we were, how smart. Tell my mother how good we were. How lucky my mother was to have us.

Above is a photograph of my E and dear Mrs. G. He is brand new in the picture. And true to her kind heart she told me how handsome, how smart he was. Like his mother, she would say.

When Mrs. G. held my E it opened my heart to the memories of my grandmothers. Her tender embrace of my son was an open channel to the love of my grandmothers who had passed. The grandmothers that I miss. She served as the connection to the women who would have  adored this special little boy.

Today Mrs. G is not well.  Now it is my mother who is the neighbor that does the checking and reporting on our Mrs G.  My thoughts and prayers are with my neighbor and her family...that she may soon again be watching over my family from her kitchen window. 

Gnome Baby

Ah, my little gnome. Most adorable Halloween costume in the world made by Baba.  Complete with super red hat, snazzy belt, and a little pouch for special treasures.

Note: he wore the hat without complaint for both trick-or-treat days.

As I post this my little blueberry is fast asleep after two days....yes, two days of trick-or-treating.  I do believe he loved every minute of cold autumn night air and strange looking people running amuck.

Note 2: Of course my head is already full of costume ideas for the years to come before he hits the age when he will think he knows best.....

For now I need to focus.  I need to plan. Make lists. Set a budget. The holidays are around the bend.  And somehow I volunteered to have Turkey day at our little house. What was I thinking....

Little Monster

72 hours.  That is what this mama worked the other week. And I have jelly all over my face. Jealous of all the time eveyone else besides me gets to spend with my little man.  He is asleep when I leave for work and asleep---or ready for bed---by the time I return. It's starting to feel like I'm the babysitter when I see him only two out seven days of the week. I am torn between being able to work and provide for my blueberry and wanting to be the mom my heart wants me to be.

A few weeks ago I attended a lecture about women in the work place.  A successful woman in my field (note: she has no offspring) said it was not about the quantity of time but the quality of time you have with your family.  That sounds like a nice theory. But it is a theory that is not working for me.

While I am at the job my little boy has learned to crawl, sprout a tooth, and stand himself up in his crib. Everyday is a day of discovery and challenge for him. 

Above is a photo from our time together this week. I followed him on his wild rumpus around his nursery. He was just so break-my-heart-cute in his  striped socks and his Where the Wild Things Are tshirt from dear Auntie L---I had to share this little boy and his smile that makes my tired old soul sigh with utter adoration.

Pumpkin Patch

It was my idea. To get everybody up early on a sleepy Sunday morning and head to the pumpkin patch. The weather was perfect autumn: chilled and grey. Perfect for being in cozy sweatpants and ancient blankets curled up in the living room for the day. Instead my little family made sure we were all dressed in our very best black t-shirts and jeans---appropriate for the occasion of little E's selection of his first Halloween pumpkin--and headed out to a local farm.

We were at the farm for less than hour.  Enough time to pick out a pumpkin bigger than our blueberry.  And enough time to take pictures that marked the occasion when  my baby was just as big as a pumpkin himself.  I'm sure my little family just loves this mama's bright ideas.

Heart Baby

My blueberry was born with two  tiny holes in his precious heart.  His little heart murmur was very faint, but there.  When he had his first round of test he was one month old. He was such a good newborn for his test. He was calm and still.

Today was E's six month follow up with his cardiologist.  At seven months he was quite the good baby again for his round of test.

We received the news that a new parent prays for: that her baby is healthy.  That her baby's heart has grown strong and healed.

E was in great capable hands at the children's hospital.  I am blessed that he is well today with the light of autumn shining in his eyes.   My heart goes out to all the families and their children at the hospital faced with challenges ahead. That they too may walk away from the hospital with their babe healthy and happy in their embrace someday soon.





Blueberry Apple Baby

My little guy had his first stay over at his Auntie L's house.  While I was out of town for a few vacation days, our blueberry was on an adventure with his auntie. She did an amazing job with E. Every picture we received while we were away was filled with sunshine smiles---on E's face and on his auntie's. As a special treat she took E and his cousin O to their first apple orchard.  They even went on a hay ride.

My aunt was fundamental to my development as a child.  She exposed me to art, gardens, music, and different life philosophies.  I loved every summer minute I spent on special trips to my aunt's home. I hope my E and his aunt grow the same happy memories together.

And on a side note....I now know how hard it must have been for my mother to send me off for a visit with a relative. Your heart aches when your baby is away from your embrace. And your heart overflows with joy the very moment that they return.