Can a Mama Get Some Help?

My little girl is upstairs right now, crying as if her heart is breaking. Not cute little wails, oh no. These are full-on screams.

Even worse? Every once in a while, she lets out a chorus of "ma ma ma ma ma MA!" I know she supposedly doesn't know what she's saying, but that doesn't do my heart any good.

There's nothing wrong, really. She's clean, she's dry, she has a full tummy. She just wants her mommy. Has wanted her mommy for most of the last 48 hours. She's teething or something, I don't know. All I know is that my back hurts, my head hurts, I have a crick in my neck, a slobbery shoulder and a shirt polka dotted with various baby stains.

I've rocked her, sang her songs, read her books, played with her, tickled her, let her sleep on my chest. She's sucked on ice cubes, gnawed on teething rings and practically eaten a hole in my shirt.

Nothing helps. She's miserable, I'm miserable, and now, because you're reading this, you're probably a little more miserable, too.

The point? Teething sucks. Sucks donkey kong. And I'm out of ideas.

So, internet, I'm asking you. Is there anything I can do to help her? Other than feed her (and myself) whiskey? I could use a little help...before I start crying for my mommy.

Banishing the Baby Belly: Week 11

Remember that post I wrote yesterday? The one describing all the delicious foods still residing in my refrigerator? If not, just scroll on down. It's right there.

That would be why I'm not getting on the scale today.

That's right, I'm taking another pass. It wasn't a bad week, but after the last couple of days, I just don't think I need to do that to myself. That would take some of the joy out of stuffing your face with...stuffing, don't you think?

Instead, I'm going to go to the holiday market downtown (one of the benefits of living in a quaint little town), let Tori pet some live reindeer, and maybe, just maybe get myself a big old mug of hot chocolate.

Mmmm, hot chocolate...

Anybody out there braver than me? Who's got some news from the scale?

Turkey Coma.

Weeks of menu planning. Days of cleaning and cooking. All for...25 minutes of eating.

Granted, it was a meal to remember. My husband, the frustrated chef, made one hell of a turkey (which may have something to do with the cup of real butter he injected into its flesh). The mashed potatoes were so creamy they didn't even need gravy. And the stuffing?

Well, I made the stuffing, but it was still pretty darn good.

I also made a kick ass pumpkin cream cheese pie. But, when you think about it, there really wasn't much chance of that going wrong. I mean, pumpkin and cream cheese? Might be the world's second most tasty flavor combination (chocolate and peanut butter being the first).

There was one failure, though.

My pecan pie. I followed the instructions to the letter, and it looked and smelled wonderful (I should have taken a picture). But, like so many things that are beautiful on the surface, it disappointed once you saw (or, rather tasted) what lay beneath its gorgeous exterior.

It tasted like ass. Sugary, gelatinous ass.

I won't be making that one again.

And now? Now we have approximately 12 pounds of turkey left over, along with a vat of mashed potatoes, various breakfast loaves, quiche...it's a dieter's nightmare. Especially since we are back down to the two of us in the house (three, really, but one doesn't eat much).

But I have willpower. Or, at least I will...once that pumpkin cream cheese pie is gone.

Wordless Wednesday: Tori's Latest Pose.

Smiling's for babies. Now, when Tori sees the camera, this is the pose I get.

 

Adorable, huh?

Top Ten Things I'm Thankful For.

"If you pause to think, you'll have cause to thank."

That's what the sign of our local Presbyterian church reads right now. And you know what? It's completely true. It's easy to gloss over the good things in our lives, dwelling instead on the people who have done us wrong, or the things we lack. It's tempting to tell ourselves, "I'd be happy if only..."

It's much more difficult to live in the moment. To appreciate what (and who) we have. To be happy with our lot in life and just be. So today, in honor of Thanksgiving, I thought I'd take a moment to count my blessings.

And since you're here, lovely readers, you get to count them with me.

I'm thankful for the roof over my head. I know I'm lucky to have a roof at all when so many don't. But I'm thankful for this home in particular. After years of living in dumpy apartments, drafty townhouses and crummy fixer-uppers, we built this one from the ground up. And it? Is a house I'm glad to come home to.



I'm thankful for the internet.  I know we did without it for thousands of years, but it's become so much a part of my life, I can't imagine how. And to think, fifteen years ago, most of us didn't really know what the world wide web was...

I'm thankful to have a job to call my own. As some of you know, I'm from Detroit. Which is experiencing some hard times, to say the least. Many, many of my friends and family there have lost their jobs - and most of those who are still working are waiting for the ax to fall. It makes me intensely grateful for every paycheck that gets deposited in my account.

I'm thankful for my iPod. I work in a wall-less cubicle maze - and I have the focus of an ADD gnat. Without my trusty portable music library and headphones, I would never ever get anything done. Ever.



I'm thankful for modern medicine.  A hundred years ago, I probably would  have died in childbirth. So, however much we complain about the state of the medical system in our country, let's remember how much we owe the doctors and hospitals within it.

I'm thankful for the baby upstairs. I knew having a baby would change everything. But I didn't realize how insanely grateful I would feel every time I saw that gummy smile. She's a pooping, puking miracle, and I love her more every day.



I'm thankful for my running shoes. When I absolutely need to get away? Escape is as easy as tying on those shoes. Unfortunately, I don't make use of them nearly enough, but it's good to know they're there for me when I need them.

I'm thankful for my husband.  The yin to my yang. The right to my left. We're both completely insane, but in completely different ways. There's no one I'd rather have by my side as I navigate this wacky thing we call life.

I'm thankful for chamomile tea. And chocolate. When all else fails and I think I really might lose my mind, I sit down with a hot cup of tea and a bar of dark chocolate and just chill. That combo almost always brings me back from the brink.

Most of all, I'm thankful to be me. I'm a little crazy, a lot disorganized, and there are days I would give anything to trade lives with someone else, but really? I'm one lucky little bitch. It really is good to be me.

Now head over to Oh Amanda and check out some more Top Ten lists!

Somebody Smack Me: My Brain's Gone AWOL.

This time last year, I was about twenty weeks pregnant.

Twenty weeks pregnant and already looking like I was about to pop. Twenty weeks pregnant and already not sleeping. Twenty weeks pregnant and already suffering from near constant back pain.

Twenty weeks pregnant and already ready to be done with the whole thing.

But today? Today I'm kind of missing being pregnant.


I know. That's insane, right?

It's just that the whole pregnancy thing was so exciting. Everything was new. Everything was wondrous. The little girl, she was just starting to make her presence known. In fact, I had just found out she was a little girl.

We were busy picking out names. Trying to decide how to decorate her bedroom. I was eating all the ice cream I wanted, and not feeling even a tiny bit guilty for not working out.

Everywhere I went, people smiled at me. They told me I looked cute (even when I hadn't washed my hair, brushed my teeth or put on a lick of makeup). They squealed, and giggled, and oohed and ahhed.

Everything I did, I thought to myself, "this will be the last time I...go Christmas shopping before I'm a mom. Stuff my face with turkey before I'm a mom. Celebrate the New Year before I'm a mom."

See what I mean? Everything was just a little...more.

Now, of course, I'm a mom. A mom who's still carrying an extra twenty pounds, is always tired and can never seem to get anywhere close to the bottom of her To Do list.

I'm not a star anymore. I'm not exciting anymore. I'm just...me.

And life? Has gone back to being just life.

Don't get me wrong. I love me my Tori, and I thank my lucky stars that I've been blessed with her presence in my life.

But sometimes? I miss being pregnant. 

Banishing the Baby Belly: Week 10

Today is a good day. I got ten hours of sleep, the sun is shining, my hair is cooperating, and the scale? Says I'm down two pounds.

Hooray!
Even better, I'm finally feeling like I can do this. Get this weight off, I mean. For the last few months, I've been going through the motions, telling myself I need to lose the pregnancy pounds, but not really believing I could make it happen.

Although I didn't want to admit it, I was kind of convinced that I was doomed to look like this forever. That my days of feeling sexy, of feeling pretty - of not hating what looks back it me in the mirror - were gone.


But something's changed. Suddenly, I have momentum.

Yesterday, there were doughnuts in the office. My favorite kind of doughnuts. And I was hungry. But you know what? I wasn't even tempted (okay, yes I was, but only for like five seconds). My inner voice, the one I call the Diet Captain, took control, and I realized that I would only hate myself later if I gave in.

So I didn't.

I'm feeling good. I'm feeling strong. And not even the holiday season is going to stop me.


I mean, sure, I'm going to eat my share of treats (it's not Thanksgiving until I consume a pile of stuffing as big as my head), but I'm going to keep it in check. I'm going to keep the scale moving down (if only slightly).

Because my skinny jeans? Are waiting for me. And I fully intend to wear them to Tori's first birthday party.

So that's me. Anybody else have anything to report?