Day in the Life: Fall 2015

Tuesday, October 13, 2015

(Linking up with Julia!)

I tried to document a Day in the Life last Wednesday, and started taking notes and snapping photos, but only got about as far as noon when I was struck down with a stomach bug that would end up making me miserable for the next 4 days.  Olive had this weird bug about a week ago, and she actually threw up on me in the middle of the night at one point so there was a lot of germ sharing happening and I really shouldn't have been surprised, but of course I still was.  Olive's rash of sickness the week before (stomach bug plus pink eye plus her first bad cold) meant she wasn't nursing much, and then my own bout with the virus of doom resulted in a 5 lb weight loss.  I would call that a nice little perk if it hadn't caused my milk supply to completely TANK.  Because it did.  And it sucked, and I was really stressed out all weekend.  Olive was clearly frustrated when nursing, constantly pulling off and then furiously trying again to extract more of the good stuff, to no avail.  In the middle of the night she was waking up constantly and nursing forever but having a hard time falling asleep, never fully satisfied.  I spent so many hours in that rocking chair with her attached to me, both of us frustrated and sad and not sure what to do.  One night I gave her a cup of expressed milk from the fridge and she sucked down 5 ounces in like a minute.  And I cried.

So yeah, it was a weekend.  In summary: sick as a dog, though still had to parent (the worst!), crabby with Dan (and Gus, and Louie, and Olive), and straight-up panicking about my milk supply.  I was going to just scrap the Day in the Life documentation this time around, my motivation to tackle that kind of project was completely gone, not to mention my life felt like it was in shambles.  I didn't want to remember anything about any of this.

But things started to look up on Sunday.  My Amazon shipment of this Moringa supplement that my sister-in-law swears by to boost milk supply arrived in the morning, so I started taking that. And after texting with Erin I made a huge batch of lactation cookies per the recipe she used for her sister when she had supply issues after her son was born.  So I felt like I was doing something at that point, at least, which is huge for my sanity.  On Monday I took PTO to stay home with Louie and Olive because we had no childcare, and it was a GREAT day and I felt back to myself and the milk was a-flowing again after taking every lactating supplement I could get my hands on and eating about 15 lactation cookies.  Truly I was leaking on the other side while nursing, and it had been months since that had happened.  What a relief.  (I am SHOCKED it worked so well, my doom and gloom brain had already gone to calculating out when I would burn through my meager freezer stash and the reality of supplementing with formula for the first time in my life, which would not have been the end of the world, of course, but still.  It was not something I was mentally able to deal with yet.)

Bringing us to "today", I was pumping in my office at 8:17 on Tuesday morning while reading this Erin's DITL post, and I guess I was inspired to just go for it.  That means no photographic evidence of the start of my day, but I think we'll all survive without pictures of me blow drying my hair and rushing around the house in the dark.

Let's get this thing started... 

It's 5:20 (ish) AM and Olive is up.  Again.  I have been asleep in my bed for a whole 45 minutes if that gives you any idea as to how our nights have been going.  I immediately go to nurse her in an attempt to get her back down, even though of course, I should be getting up for work pretty much right about now.  She's been waking for the day between 5:30 and 5:45 quite a bit lately and it makes the mornings much more difficult for everyone, especially Dan, who is the parental figure that has to get everyone dressed and fed and out of the house for daycare/school by 7:15.  I like to try to leave for work by about 6:15, which helps me avoid traffic and also get in a good 7 hours before I have to leave to get Gus from school. 

I fall asleep nursing her in the chair in her room, of course, but once I come to I am able to successfully get her back to sleep in her crib and am downstairs at... 5:55 AM.  Shit.  I will obviously not be leaving for work "on time" today.

Shower super quickly.  Dry my hair, which is absurdly long because I haven't gotten it cut since October of 2014. Hit it with the curling iron to give it a little piecey wave.  Since I'm running so late I decide to do my makeup at work, even though it only really shaves 5 minutes off my morning. (I have some drugstore makeup in my office for these occasions.)

It's about 6:20 at this point and Dan has woken the kids up so they have enough down time before school/daycare.  The boys are watching a show in the basement and waking up slowly.  Side note: without fail, we have to wake those two up EVERY MORNING during the week, but on weekends the little buggers are up stomping down the stairs waking up the entire household at 6:01 on the dot.  It drives us INSANE.  Why?  Why?! I don't understand!

I pull all my crap together and realize I didn't pack my pump bag, so I take a sec to do that, grab a few lactation cookies, take two horse pill supplements, fill up my water jug, grab my laptop, (OMG so much crap) and bid adieu to the kids, (Olive is up at this point and Dan is getting them all dressed downstairs.)  I tell Gus to smile nice for school pictures today.  It's quite a controversy at school this year, lots of pissed off parents arguing with the new principal about her decision that kids will now wear uniforms on picture day.  I only half-care about this "controversy" and that 's probably because when I was a kid it was a non-uniform day and I remember being so excited to pick out my picture day outfit every year.  Like, my mom and I would go shopping for something new.  Pretty sure Gus couldn't give a shit, so whatever.

Daycare lady is on vacation this week so Louie and Olive are going to my mom's house today because she has the day off.  I mentioned before, I stayed home yesterday because Dan's mom usually watches them on Mondays but she has orientation this week for her new job.  This week is so screwed up.  Today Louie also has preschool from 9:15-11:30.  Daycare lady would usually drive him but my mom can't drive, so after dropping him and Olive at my mom's, Dan is coming back home to work there for an hour, then picking up Louie at my mom's, bringing him to school, then finally going into the office, and running out again to pick Louie up at 11:30 and bring him back to my moms.  Our life is exhausting.

I log in at work, organize my to do list, head to the bathroom to wash my coffee mug (gross dried on mothers milk tea bag from last Thursday, whoops) and do my makeup. Then I head to the cafeteria to get coffee.  

I run into my boss and two coworkers getting coffee, we chat about my stomach bug and how it's a good weight loss solution if you're desperate. Coworker 1 jokes about taking a drink from my mug, since he would like to lose a few lbs, I warn him I wouldn't recommend it.

I head back to my office, eat string cheese and blueberry Greek yogurt and 2 lactation cookies, and drink my coffee while going through my inbox and getting some work done.  Dan calls at 7:45 as he usually does after the kids have all been delivered to their respective places, and I hear that Olive had a blowout in the car seat on the way to my moms. Ha. Dude has clearly run a marathon already this morning and he's not even to work yet.  I will admit to appreciating my new schedule of going into work early and avoiding all of... THAT.



I get a text and a picture from my mom of Louie and Olive in the stroller.  They are going for a walk during the 1 hour she has before Dan will be back to bring Louie to preschool.  She's exhausting. I say that with love.  :)

After talking to Dan I decide to pump. I normally pump 2 times a day but I'm going to do 3 this week because of the supply issues. The lactation cookies and Moringa are doing amazing work, I can tell. Olive has been literally gulping when nursing as compared to the last week when she was clearly never fully satisfied.

I pump 5 ounces easily, which is decent. Last week I was able to get 5 ounces in one session but it would take pumping for like 35 minutes and going for multiple let downs. And feeling stressed.  So amazed by these cookies and this supplement and my body's apparent ability to bounce back. 

I read Erin's blog while pumping and decide to do this today, and now we've come full circle.

8:35 - 2nd cup coffee.  No shame in that game.

8:50 -  my mom is calling already, to ask how to put Olive down for her morning nap (how?) and to say she nearly choked on a Cheez-it already this morning. (!) They've only been there for an hour at this point.

Me: "You gave her a Cheez-it? What?  Mom!"
Mom: "Louie said she could eat them!" 

10:11 The One Bad Mother Podcast I'm listening to while working is over, and I just finished a report, so it's a good stopping point and time for that 3rd cup of coffee.  I realize I haven't drank any water yet this morning, so I chug a liter of water before I walk to the bathroom and cafeteria.  Disclaimer: I only drink about a quarter of this cup, in case you are concerned by the amount of coffee I am consuming.  That is usually how the third cup goes.

Lactation cookie # 3 is consumed while I start up another podcast and dig back into my to-do list.  I am guessing I'll gain back those 5 lbs I lost this weekend really quickly at this rate.

Lots of working.  Quarter- end reporting stuff.  I'm super productive which feels good because towards the end of last week I wasn't as productive after starting to feel like junk.

11:15 - lunch time, I walk down with a few coworkers to the cafeteria.  They're having a BBQ in the courtyard, $5 to charity for burgers, salad, chips, and cookies.  I don't eat my cookie, instead take it back to my office and decide to bring it home for Gus.  I can't justify, nor stomach, another cookie.

11:45 - Mom calls me to complain about Olive and her separation anxiety/crabbiness.  (I can hear her screaming in the background.) "Why won't she let me put her down? She just screams! I'm just trying to make lunch and I can't leave the room for a second without her freaking out?" Story of my life
woman.

12:00 - Pump again, have issues pumping and finally get frustrated enough with my pump to email Medela and see if my pump is one of the ones included in a 2011 recall. I take the face plate off to get the serial number and send it to Medela customer service.  My pump does this annoying thing in that when I turn it up to the level my body needs it to be to pump efficiently, the motor starts clicking and then failing, and suction actually goes down. I do think I may have bought it in the window of time included within the recall, I hope that's the case because then I could get a new one for free. Ughhhhh. Pumping is bad enough without this crap to deal with.


I actually get a decent amount of milk (over 4 oz) but it took like a half hour to get there, and lots of messing around with my pump.  So frustrating. 

1:30 - Realize I have to leave to get Gus in a half hour and I only pumped twice.  Blergh.  Pump again, even though I just did an hour and a half ago.  #overit 





2:00 - I should already have left the office but am just packing up now.  Gus's school gets out at 2:20 and I'm about 25 minutes away.

 

2:21 (I'm already late) - I am less than a minute from school and... Train. [EXPLETIVES SHOUTED AT TRAIN CARS]  I hope the pickup line is nice and long and inefficient today, and that lots of parents get out of their car even though they're not supposed to, so maaaaaaybe I can sneak in at the end of the line and no one even notices I'm late.

Yeah, no dice.  I get there 6 full minutes late and the line is non-existent and there are just a handful of kids and teachers standing there waiting for the lame late parents.  ;)



Oh well.

Give Gus the cookie I saved him from lunch.  Apologize for being late, but he's pretty used to it, if I'm going to be honest.   

I ask Gus if he got the note I left in his lunch box (it was the first time I had ever done that, on a whim last night when I was making his lunch), and he says, "Yeah I did WHY DID YOU EVEN WRITE ME A NOTE MOM?  WHY WOULD YOU DO THAT? What was with the Star Wars stickers?"

All in a very incredulous, almost angry tone! 

Jeesh. Soooooorry!  I won't do nice things ever again.  (He's the kind of kid that just gets thrown off by surprises, even good ones.  Ha.)

He tells me a few things about school. Mostly nothing really, some days it's like pulling teeth, some days he's a fountain of information.  I really think it just depends on his level of exhaustion.  He seems annoyed that he didn't get his pictures back from picture day yet, and I let him know that it's not instantaneous.  It'll be a few weeks.

Get home, unpack Gus's back pack, pull out all his papers and his lunch. Feel annoyed that he never eats his vegetables but also I know he always eats those last and he says he runs out of time, which I do believe. He and Louie are the pokiest eaters ever and they only have 20 minutes.







Put away the breast milk I pumped today.

Get Gus a snack (a banana) and he pours himself some milk.  (His new thing, he loves doing this himself and is very proud.  I'm sure we should have let him pour his own milk long ago, but, you know.  Kids.  Messes.)



I get logged into work again, I work for about an hour at home after I pick up Gus from school, before we have to leave and go get Olive and Louie from daycare.  It's kind of a weird, messy schedule, but it's working for us so far, and I think it's really nice for Gus to have an hour of downtime on his own at home without his brother and sister.  He mostly just veges out and watches TV, eats a billion snacks, etc. 

Email with Laura and Erin about rescheduling our internet friend ladies night dinner thing that was supposed to be on Sunday.  Laura was sick.  I was just getting over my stomach bug. 

 

Twin Cities Live is on the television while I work from the kitchen table.  I am such a nerd and I love this local news talk show and am a big time Elizabeth Ries fan.  Yes, I know, I said I'm a nerd.

3:45 - Decide to take advantage of the fact that Louie and Olive are at my mom's and not daycare, so Gus and I walk there to pick them up, instead of drive.  It is a perfect fall day, and this is the time of year when I'm always worried it might be the last awesome fall day.



I take a lot of pictures on our walk.  Gus practically skips the whole way there, and plays with a transformer he grabbed on his way out.  It's funny, after school he is clearly quite exhausted but at the same time he has tons of nervous energy and does a lot of jumping and skipping and moving.  Even if he's just watching TV.  I love him.

It's a cluster of excitement when we get to my parents' house. Louie greets us at the door with bed head (he just got up from a nap) and is excited to show us something in the back yard. Immediately he and Gus start clashing over absolutely nothing, and there's yelling and lots of "Leave me alone Louie!" and "Gus won't talk to me, mom!" (Sigh.)



Louie is an extrovert.  Gus an introvert.  Louie misses him so much when they're not together and he just wants to tell him everything that has happened since they've last been together.  And Gus misses Louie too, but he needs time.  And space.  And Louie's incessant talking and constant needs are A LOT to handle for an introvert.  (I should know.)

Olive sees me and wants to nurse, of course.

My mom sees me and wants to talk, of course.  ;)

Kids continue to loose it and ask for snacks.

I nurse Olive in the living room while random arguments take place and chaos ensues.  Gus mentions to me and my mom about a behavior chart at school, and describes a stoplight chart, and how he was at Green, and then he went to Yellow, but then back to Green at the end of the day.  But [name redacted] was red ALL DAY today.  This makes my hair stand on end.  He has never talked about this behavior chart before, so I wonder if it's a new thing.  I hate stoplight charts.  (Here is a good explanation as to why.)  I try to make a mental note to email his teacher to ask her about it.  Maybe I'll send her a few articles.  This kind of thing is hard for me, I'm not one to rock the boat and I don't want to overstep my bounds, or offend her, but I have legitimate concerns about these types of behavior charts.  Also, I know this is not the only way she's trying to improve and work on behavior in her classroom.  In particular she's also using a really wonderful method that is geared towards the whole class, that involves rewarding the class's good behavior as a whole with "warm fuzzies".  Once they fill the jar (it's currently half full) they are having some sort of party.  I think this kind of behavior tool is WONDERFUL, and most importantly it doesn't involve public shaming.   

End of digression.

Eventually we do finally go outside to look at what Louie was super excited to show us.  It's this strange play structure/merry-go-round thing my mom and dad picked up off the side of the road.  Ha!  Cool.  We all sit on it and ride around on it for a bit.  Olive is on my lap and for some reason she gets scared or dizzy or who knows what and starts crying.



Overall the kids had a good day.  Olive took two 2-hour naps, which she definitely did not do this weekend at home, so I'm kind of jealous.

Louie and Gus though, are still at each others' throats.  Gus doesn't hold the storm door for Louie when going outside and it slams in Louie's face, then Louie hits Gus because he's angry about the door thing, and Gus gets super mad and tells him he hates him and doesn't want him to be his brother.  Ughhh.  Lots of emotions, mostly for Gus, but Louie's feelings are also hurt so he's striking back with the best way his three-year-old self knows how to handle these situations.  His fists.  This is all clearly too much for Gus and I can tell he just doesn't want to be here around his chatty brother and chatty grandma, he's had a long day of being on, he's tired, and now he's at my parents' house and being peppered with questions and his mood has clearly changed for the worse as a result.  It sucks.  He's being a complete jerk to everyone by the time we get organized and are out the door to walk home.  (I had brought the carrier to wear Olive home.)  Being able to appropriately deal with this type of situation is something he needs to work on, obviously, but also it's something I need to remember about his personality.  My mom wants to walk us part of the way home and we get like a block and Gus is now screaming about wanting to go to the park (even though he was just screaming about being starving and wanting to go home), and I actually end up asking my mom not to walk with us. I need to talk to the kids. We need the walk home alone to cool off.  They both also clearly need my attention.

The majority of the walk home is pretty horrible, but we all cool off about halfway there.  I understand Gus needs to feel free to have his emotions and be mad.  He even starts ranting to me at one point about super random and horrible things that I have done to him (i.e. ask him to sleep in later than 6:00 AM, ha!).  It's clear to me he was feeling out of control, feeling angry, not quite sure why, and wanted to feel like he was in a safe place to get it all out.

Phew.  I am bummed that our walk home could not be as fun and idyllic as our walk there was.  But this is life with kids.  BIG EMOTIONS.  Emotions they sometimes don't understand or know how to deal with.



The boys check the mail when we got to the house and are excited to see SO MANY LETTERS!  I have never seen them so excited for mail.  When we get inside they throw it on the dining room table and start ripping into it like this is a thing they do.  It is weird.  The only time they open mail is when there is something like a birthday card addressed to them.  "What is this mom, oh my goodness is this money for the Rake-a-thon?!  Can I open this one mom?  What does it say?"  It's literally all junk mail or bills and it all goes to the trash. 

Eventually the boys run off and watch some more TV and play.  They pepper me for requests for milk and "cold water with ice" and more snacks as well.  I hold them off on the snacks, as Olive and I try to start pulling together something for dinner.  I am kind of huffing around the kitchen in an annoyed panic trying to figure out what to make, since there most definitely is no plan.  I hate making dinner. 

I whip up some pancake batter... I've decided on breakfast for dinner.  And Olive wants to nurse again so that happens again, and at some point I feed the dog, who has been hounding me to do so pretty much since we walked in the door. 





Olive is happy again, tooling around the kitchen, so I mix up some scrambled eggs, cut up some strawberries, throw some cherry tomatoes and cut up bell peppers on the table, set the table.  Our kitchen is an absolute disaster and the little counter space we already have is littered with so much junk.  In particular, all of our silverware on cookie sheets because we have a mother bleeping mouse that is crapping in our silverware drawer and until we catch it and determine that there are no more (we've already caught one) we are not putting our silverware back in that drawer to get pooped on.  UGHHHHHHHH.  I hate mice.  Every fall when the weather starts to cool, we deal with them for a short period of time, so I am trying to be zen. But gross.



Everything is prepped, now I just need to start cooking it, I'm trying to time it for when Dan walks in the door.  I remember to take my lactation supplements.



Olive is cranky and hanging on my feet, again, and I go to nurse her, again.  Argh.  That is short lived, I think maybe she is just hungry, for like real food, so I throw her in the high chair with strips of banana while I start the pancakes on the griddle. Once the first batch of them is done I give her pieces of that, and more banana.  She literally eats an entire banana and half a pancake, so I guess I figured out what she was pissed about.  FEED ME MOM.





My parents are all of a sudden at the door, they have with them Olive's car seat and our big bag of baby stuff that we had brought over to my mom's this morning.  Dan was going to swing by for it later since I picked up the kids on foot and wasn't going to lug all of that home.  Thanks mom and dad!

Dan comes through the back door to the general chaos that is dinner prep, amplified a bit because we have spontaneous visitors.  It's about 5:45.  I finish up the pancakes, eggs, and put the bacon (it''s pre-cooked) in the oven for a few minutes. 





Dinner is on the table, my parents scurry out, and we all shovel food in our mouths.  I didn't set out to make it one, but it's a feast.  And breakfast for dinner = a meal the kids enjoy, which always makes for a more pleasant family dining experience.





Olive dominates the scrambled eggs (she ends up with 2nds and 3rds,) which makes me unreasonably happy.  It's nice when babies actually eat the things you make for them. 

Olive can no longer tolerate being in her high chair, I suppose she has been in it for a long time since she spent a good portion of dinner prep time in there as well.  This means I end up with a baby covered in gross food (sticky bananas, yum) on my lap for half the meal.  Pretty typical.







Uptown Funk comes on the radio and the boys have a dance party in the middle of dinner.  We just go with it and allow it, because... survival mode.  And who does it really hurt?  Dance parties are awesome.

Everyone finishes up eating and Dan starts cleaning up while I hang out in the living room with the kids.  Gus and Louie start playing a game of Simon Says and get me to join them.  It's super fun and they're hilarious and Louie gets tricked every single time.  He just doesn't quite yet have the mental faculties to excel at Simon Says.  There's a lot of "Simon Says.... touch Olive's butt, har har har" and the like. 

They move on to Mr. Potato Head, and by now Dan has partially cleaned up dinner, he's loaded the dishwasher and it's full, so that gets run.  The sink is still full of dirty dishes but those will get tackled after the kids are in bed.





This doesn't happen very often, but all three kids are playing.  Together.  Harmoniously.  It is a nice moment that I know from experience should be enjoyed if nothing else for its rarity.  Of course it eventually turns hyper and rambunctious and the boys are laying all over each other face-palming each other, but for a good solid 10 minutes it is awesome, calm, fun.

It's a bit after 7:00 and we are DONE with the hyper wrestling and start rallying the troops for bedtime, heading upstairs.

Louie for some reason ends up going nuts up there, running from room to room, yelling and screaming at the top of his lungs, doing the opposite of what we ask of him and basically driving us to the brink of insanity.  He is so unstable lately, 3 1/2 years old is just... well it's impossibly trying.  He is the child that we both are working so hard to be patient with 9 out of 10 times, and Dan and I both agree that he is in a developmental stage of disequilibrium.  There is NO QUESTION.  It helps to remember that this is normal for his age and stage, but it is still just so damn hard.  



So Louie ends up getting yelled at, and put in a timeout.  This really just involves asking him to calm down and sit in the chair in Olive's nursery, with me right there on the floor, while I am getting her (also intensely tired and screaming at this point) into her pajamas.  But this spirals into him sobbing for the rest of the bedtime process.  He is the kid that just cries and cries for comfort and sympathy when he is disciplined, like being yelled at has broken his poor little heart, and it is not easy to be nice to him.  But we try.  Because it's developmental.  And we love him.  But still.  Maddening.      



Dan reads the kids two books, while I stall with Olive and bounce her around trying to keep her happy.  Gus is actually the only one going to sleep right now, which sounds crazy but Louie took a two hour nap at my mom's, so he's really not ready to go to bed at 7:30.  If we try to put him to bed he will be disruptive and keep Gus awake longer than he should be.





Legos everywhere.  But Mom, they can't be put away because they'll break! So we get to look at them.  Forever.  Until the end of time.

Gus asks Dan to snuggle with him.  (He's bummed that he has to go to sleep while Louie doesn't, which I understand.)

Louie, Olive and I go downstairs, even though Olive should be going to bed.  Louie does not like to be alone in the house anywhere.  (Sigh.)



We sit on the couch and I read Louie a few books while nursing Olive.  He steals my phone at some point and takes a bunch of pictures.

All photos by Louie:







Dan comes down about 5 minutes later, Gus is already asleep, Kindergarten is exhausting.  I head upstairs with Olive to nurse on the other side and get her down in her crib.  She is basically asleep in my arms already, despite her noisy and handsy brother.

Come downstairs after getting Olive to sleep.  Dan is cleaning up the kitchen and dining room.  Louie is tooling around asking for things.

I set out to make Gus a lunch for school tomorrow and realize we have no bread.  Dan used the last of it for a sandwich for lunch, so I am a brat to him about that because I am annoyed, not because he's not allowed to make sandwiches for himself.  It's been a long day.  ;)

I dig around and scramble and come up with the idea to send him cereal (Crispix) and milk as his "main course"  Very random, I have never done that.  I also throw in a yogurt, string cheese, some chips, a banana, and a handful of raspberries.  Oops, no vegetables.  Whatever.  Dan mentions that it's a huge lunch and it's way more food than even he would eat for lunch.  Probably true.  I am an over-packer of school lunches, I can't seem to help it.      

I pick up the living room.  Louie asks for a snack and then colors with markers at the kitchen table while Dan continues to do dishes.  I like to use every single dish at my disposal when making dinner, much to Dan's chagrin.  I putz around and organize the kids' artwork and paperwork from school.



Dan takes over the coloring at some point:



The bee Louie painted at school today:





(Sigh.)

The apparently annoying note I had left in Gus's lunch from today:

I realize it's 8:30 and Louie really should be going to bed at this point.  The thing is, he is actually enjoyable to have around after the other two kids are asleep.  I can tell he really craves one-on-one attention and he doesn't get it as often as he would like, so this after-bedtime "Louie only time" can be nice for all of us.  The parts of Louie's personality that are wonderful and not marred by his 3 1/2 year old crazy antics are on full display during these evenings.  And he is sweet and snuggly and precocious and talkative and just wonderful.

Louie picks out one more book, I read it to him on the couch, kiss him goodnight, and then Dan brings him upstairs to tuck him in. 

I finish picking up (shouldn't I be done with this by now?  My notes say I am not).  I get into cozy clothes and feel frustrated and despondent, per usual, as I inspect my distended stomach in the mirror.

I Google on my phone diastasis recti and watch a video about how to check for it.  Then I perform said check and I definitely have a 3-4 finger gap between my ab muscles.  Ugh.  I had suspected this forever but was for some reason squeamish about thinking about it or checking.  I get frustrated and sad and almost start crying but hold it together.  I vent to Dan about it and he gives me hugs and is very supportive without telling me what I need to do to fix it.  He is learning.  ;)

I decide that tomorrow I am going to try to make a feasible plan for starting an exercise regimen that will work on it, because it is hard-core affecting how I feel about myself.  Woe is me.  Sad trombone.  :(

Tomorrow.
 




Get a beer. Skinny pop. Queue up Parks and Rec on Netflix. Life is good again.  Dan and I watch a few episodes and then head to bed.  It's about 10:30.  I lay my head down and snuggle in to my husband and...

Olive is awake.  She is on a cycle as of late, like clockwork she is up within moments of me laying down for bed.  I go upstairs to nurse her down, come back to bed, go to sleep, and two hours later she's up again.  And then two hours after that.  And then one hour after that.  She is not in a good place sleeping right now, and 100% relatedly, neither am I.  ;)

This too, shall pass.