Measure up

So as I've tried to put a finger on exactly what it is I can do to start improving, it's being hard to determine what I'm supposed to do. It's just not black and white. Obviously, it's important to cut out any "indulgences," but how is someone who has a problem with food supposed to determine what that is or isn't? Obviously it's going to be different for everyone.

The sort of neat thing about all this is, now that I'm looking the little demon in the face, it's not nearly as powerful over me. But that's the other thing. Part of the 12 step program is realizing that you're powerless to your addiction. I'm not sure I fully understand that yet, because I am feeling like I have more control over my actions now that I'm acknowledging the issue. More to learn there, I think.

And then there's the other thing. Drug addicts aren't supposed to replace their addictions with anything else; alcohol, etc. So, is a "food addict" (I still have a hard time taking that term seriously, hence the marks) not supposed to ever eat a cookie? Exactly. It's just not black and white. So, anything that I choose to do is going to be what's right for ME. If someone else out there feels like something else would work better for them, please follow your instincts. We all have different issues.

When I think back to times when I've been the most depressed, it is usually the morning after I've eaten bad. One of my favorite things to do is eat late. There's something about my late night alone time, when the kids are in bed, and Neal is asleep early for work the next morning. I can break out a snack that I don't have to share with anyone - no slobbery little mouths, no greedy hubby...it's just for me. I can turn on my favorite night time shows, it doesn't have to be cartoons or car shows or news or anything FOR someone else. It's just for me. So I end up watching a couple of shows, indulging on my favorite things. I think this is perfectly okay to do every once in a while. I certainly wasn't doing it every night. I think where I started going wrong, is when I'd allow myself to sit down with a whole bag of pita chips and the container of hummus, instead of getting a plate and plopping a serving on it and limiting myself to that. But, it just felt good to get lost in my shows and my snacks without a care in the world. Obviously, this is my biggest hurdle that I'll need to change.

So, how do I change this? Well, for over a week now, I've been going to bed with everyone else. When I don't watch my shows late at night, I don't end up wanting to snack. I end up not over indulging, getting more sleep, and even finding productive things to do in bed if I'm not ready to fall asleep. Like, reading the scriptures (on my phone). I started in D&C last week. I haven't read through it since seminary (terrible, right?), so I've decided it will be something that I can do. So far, I think these things are helping me to slowly get a grip. Obviously I still struggle with the same every day things, like my body image, etc, but I'm not completely OVERWHELMED by them, where it's all I can think about.

My meeting last night was good. Remember how in my last post I said that all I could think about since the first meeting I went to was the next meeting I would go to (last night's)? Well, at 5pm my mom was like, "Aren't you going to ARG?", and I'm like, "Yeah but it doesn't start til 5:30." Well I was wrong. I rushed out of her house in pj's with zero makeup on, and showed up 15 minutes late. I missed the reading of the step, which I believe was step 6, something about having a change of heart. I KNOW I needed this step. Obviously I'll read through it on my own. Last week was about confessing, and in addition to that I did steps 1 and 2 on my own. So this week I will do steps 3 and 4 on my own, and then catch up and do step 6, so that next sunday I'm good to go with step 7. In case any of you are wondering, you can go to LDS.org and look up the churches Addiction Recovery Program. You can download a copy of the lesson manual/12 steps, or you can find a group local to you. If there's anything you feel like you need to change in your life, the meeting is wonderful for that. There are addicts of every kind - shopping, video games, tv, eating, drugs, alcohol, grief, you name it. I would suggest looking up a group. They're very anonymous, and a great place for letting out anything you feel like you have difficulty talking to just anyone about.

I'm gonna do another post, by I don't want to combine it with this one, because it's a big enough topic to do on it's own. So on to that. It's about this week's meeting/step 6, having a change of heart.

Journey of healing. Week 1.

So, my last post was obviously a major downer. I mean, am I right or am I right? Self discovery is a good thing, especially if you realize that you have a problem during said self discovery.

I've gone back and forth about how appropriate it would or wouldn't be to post about what I'm going through right now. If I'm being real with you, though it may seem like I'm totally an open book, there are still many things that I do keep to myself. I don't always mind when what I have to say is offensive. I don't always mind when what I say makes people uncomfortable. But believe it or not, I do have boundaries when it comes to the more serious things. But, because this is such a serious thing for me, I'm hoping that as I write/journal about my experiences, maybe it can help someone else. I do realize that not everyone struggles with the same issues, and I also realize that not everyone is aware they even have issues. Shoot, it's taken me many, many years to understand that I have a problem. Unfortunately, it's taken me hitting a wall to realize the problem, and now it's bad. That is sad. Maybe someone, somewhere, can read this blog and feel like they relate on some level, and realize that there is room to go up from here.

I've been pretty sad lately. Without diving into all the details, and without slamming down scenario after scenario for you to read through (that could take forever and a year-monger), and briefly summarize: I've been pretty sad lately. These are the things that make me sad:

1) Getting dressed. I've become very aware of my overweight figure, particularly my midsection. Getting dressed reminds me that I'm no longer at the stage where I can hide the little bit of fat collected around my belly anymore with a lose shirt or a tight under shirt to squeeze it all in. My curves have gotten large enough to where they can't be hidden. This is exponentially depressing.

2) Lifting up my shirt to nurse. My belly is exposed, and makes me self conscious. It saddens me that THAT is was I'm focusing on during such special moments between me and my son. I rarely nurse without a blanket around. Sometimes I even steal my sons blankey to cover myself up.

3) Not getting dressed. It's a lose lose. I can't dress up, I can't stay in pjs, because either way I'm letting myself down physically.

4) Walking through the house naked. I used to do this freely. Now, I've convinced myself that surely my husband doesn't need to see me too frequently sporting my birthday suit. He never says a negative word to me. But I view myself so negatively that I've convinced myself that I'm just as disgusting in others' eyes.

5) Bath time with Kenz. She first discovered my belly when I was pregnant. Before that, it wasn't big enough to be noticed, really. She understands that I'm not pregnant anymore, but doesn't understand why my stomach is still big. She likes to pat it. This is depressing.

The list could go on. These are normal day to day things that I experience that remind me of my unhappiness.

Two weeks ago (or so) I was at my mom and dads house. I was talking with one of my sister's during some quiet time while the kids and others were napping. We have always been able to relate when it comes to body image issues. In fact, I have this in common with all of my sisters. Anyway, we started out talking about HER issues, and somewhere along the line, my parents joined in on the discussion and WENDY (me) was the one crying bitterly like a baby in a poopy diaper. I was opening up about my self loathing. Everyone was offering their two cents, my sister was nodding her head in understanding (since she feels much the same way - or has felt the same way at one point or another).

Recently, we've all been taking turns attending the addiction recovery meetings with my brother, who is an addict. He's been an addict for about 8 years, I think, became sober around 2004, and recently fell victim to the disease again. Anyway, I haven't yet taken a turn, but my mom has. I bring this up, because she suggested that I attend a meeting for my own benefit. I had shot the idea back and forth for a while. Maybe even for a year. But I became pregnant, and decided that it wasn't the right time (looking back, I should have started it when I felt like I should even while pregnant). Anyway, I was encouraged to go to the meeting, give it a shot, and see how I felt afterwards.

Last sunday was my first time with ARP. I went feeling a little nervous, but when you really hate yourself, and you know how important it is to love yourself, you'll do anything you need to do to get on track again. The meeting was just what I needed. Every day since then, all I've thought about was how I can't wait to go back again. It was important for me to realize that 1) I don't have such an unusual problem and 2) it was good to be reminded that I need to see myself through God's eyes. It will be a very difficult journey, as I try and transition to having more positive thoughts, and remembering that my worth isn't measured by a number on a scale. That said, I've also come to find that I am a food addict. I never really felt like food addiction was anything real. I mean come on, it's not an "addictive substance", it's food, for crying out loud. We need it to survive. But food is my drug. Like my brother, I have something I abuse to make me feel better. And sure, it's not as cut and dry as that. I don't sit down with a box of donuts and eat the whole thing. I don't go through drive thrus ten times a day and get five extra large numbers 2's. My issue is that I think about it constantly. When I'm stressed, I think about food cravings. "Ooooh, I think I'll make this for dinner." Or, "I need to put this this and this on my grocery list, because I really want to taste this!"...do you know what I'm saying? I push out the stress by obeying my cravings. It feels good to eat what I want. But it is bad for me, and I am more and more frequently obeying my desires. The numbers aren't increasing on the scale, but they sure aren't decreasing, and I NEED them to decrease, or I will hate myself more and more with each day. I already do.

So, back to the addiction recovery group. I listened to people share, and it was like I could have been saying everything they were saying. I am looking forward to following the 12 step program to recovery. It's not your normal 12 step program, like for Overeaters anonymous. It incorporates the atonement, and I KNOW that through the reminders of the atonement and using it as a tool during my recovery, I will be able to heal more quickly and more PURELY. I'm looking to heal from the inside out. I know that this is a good place for me, because for once I'm not thinking about how to fix how I look. I'm understand that if I fix how I feel about myself, it will have postive effects on me outwardly, as well.

I'm grateful to have the church in my life. It certainly is true that our Heavenly Father hasn't left us alone. The church is designed in all of its greatness to assist all of us through everything we experience - good and bad. I'm grateful that I have a venue to express my true feelings, to not feel judged, and to get help where I need it. I'm grateful for the boost that I've gotten just from the one meeting. I don't have a lot of hope - I do have a little. And if I heard one thing at the meeting, it's that all you need is a little hope, and recovery will come.

Looking forward to a journey of healing from the inside out.

Depressed much?

I've always been super relieved that I've never suffered from any sort of crippling depression. What do I consider "crippling"? Well, I guess being so depressed that you don't want to do much. Can't really do much. Don't have much control over motivating yourself to do much. I've especially felt relief after both pregnancies, being able to avoid PPD. Depression runs on all sides of my family, it seems, so I'm certainly no stranger to it. And I've certainly experienced it myself, as well. I've always had manageable depression. It's made me sad as I've watched those I love struggle from the burdens of their own depression.

But heck, no one's in the clear, I guess. There have been a few days since having Diesel (9 1/2 weeks ago) where I've felt a new level of "depression". I don't wanna slit my wrists or anything drastic like that. I just really feel overwhelmed with a sort of self loathing. I want to sit in a chair and eat. All. Day. I don't want to move from said chair other than to shower, take care of the necessities for the kids, eat, and eat. Oh and go to the bathroom. Today is one of those days. Although I did clean the house.

I am in such unfamiliar territory, and I'm not certain how to handle it. I know that tomorrow I will wake up and not struggle with the things I'm struggling with today. That's how it's gone the other two times I've felt like this. But it's weird feeling this way. Let me explain.

I've always been chubby. I always talk about it. I've always had self esteem problems because of it. I've never, however, felt like my eating was a particular problem. I've let myself believe that I just don't like exercise, and that the quality of the food I eat isn't the best. But I've never felt like I abuse food. Until just recently, anyway. I've had 3 days total since having Diesel where I'm getting glimpses (day long glimpses, BAH!) of just exactly what my problems are.

Today is the third of these days. I ate and ate. I didn't enjoy the food I ate. It wasn't particularly awesome, in fact it wasn't even on my list of favorites by a long shot. But after I would eat, I would feel better. Well, during and after. And then ten minutes after being done eating, I would feel the desire to eat again. So I would. And it's not like I'm sitting down and polishing off a family size bag of chips or a case of oreos. I'm just snacking much too frequently, even when I'm already full. And I'm doing it because I like to be filled. Does this make sense to anyone? I've never been able to identify with others before on levels like this. I always thought I just really loved food. Not that I had a need for it or any other unhealthy attachment. I just liked to eat like I like watching movies, or something! But today I watched myself eat myself into deeper and deeper self loathing and depression. It was weird.

I think my new found awareness of my "issue" has stemmed from my recent awareness of addictions and how they hurt people. And more importantly, what exactly an "addiction" is. My brother has been an addict since just after highschool. After years of sobriety, he recently hit rock bottom again. Drugs. Someone else I love dearly struggles with another addiction, and as I've learned to help both this friend and my brother, my own problems are flashing around on a giant blinking sign right in front of my face, it seems. Food is not my friend. I abuse it like my brother abuses (abused) drugs, and it's just as unhealthy for me as it is for him. I feel out of control, I feel shame, and it's essentially killing me. Granted, I can't O.D. on cereal or anything, but my health certainly suffers from my lack of care. I see this as a problem, and something that I need to take seriously. But it's also something that I'm absolutely ashamed I need some help with. Not very many people understand unhealthy relationships with food, so it's totally embarassing. I think my husband might be one of those people. He never abuses food. He always takes care of himself. It's easy for him to pass up the cookies or brownies if he's eaten a little too unhealthy in a day, and also makes sure to work off any extra calories he's consumed. He's always WANTED to take care of himself. Like most people, his love for food is healthy and normal. It's a non issue for him.

So, I'm sad about this. I'm sad at this self-realization, but I'm also glad that I'm finally aware of it. It's been easy living a life of denial. I can absolutely sympthasize better with addictions of other natures, because all addictions are the same, as far as being behavioral issues. The bad thing about all of this is, just because someone is aware of their addiction doesn't mean they're gonna do anything about it. My issues with food totally suck, but instead of feeling like I can get a handle on things, it's just thrown me into a gnarly sort of depression. I wish I was one of those people that's all stoked up on running and exercising and eating right. I'm just not. So it's a lot of work for me. It's hard enough finding time to just straighten up my always-messy house. But now I've gotta make an extra effort to turn my cheek to the one thing that comforts without fail? Granted, it hurts me in the long run because I'm just grossed out by myself after, but shoot, if I'm always grossed out by myself anyway, I might as well eat for SOME moments of comfort, right?

I'm sure a lot of this has to do with my always-present hormones from nursing. On top of my LOVE for food, I'm hungry much more frequently than "normal", so I've allowed myself plenty of excuses. Allowed and STILL allow, I should say. It's a decent excuse. It's the truth. I'm always hungry because I nurse my kid ALL THE TIME. He's such a hippo. But, when I'm depressed, I eat even when Im not hungry.

Anyways, no point in continuing. You get the point. I hate food for making me feel good sometimes. Just like my brother probably hates and loves drugs for making him feel better sometimes too. Guess I need to take care of my ish. My brother is. It's the least I can do too.

Ground Turkey Fajita Tacos

Ground Turkey Fajita Taco

2 Big Fat Tacos for 10 pts (Weight Watchers)

Ingredients:

1 lb. 99% Fat free ground turkey breast
10 Mini Peppers (I used red, orange, & yellow)
1/2 Medium onion
2 Roma Tomatoes
Shredded lettuce or red cabbage
Light Sour Cream
1 Avocado
Corn Tortillas
Cooking spray (Pam)
Garlic Salt
Black Pepper
1 Packet Lawry's Taco Seasoning

This recipe is super easy. I grilled up my peppers and onions first, and set them aside. Turn your skillet on high heat, spray with pam, and saute them until they're the consistancy you like:

Once I'm done grilling the peppers, I set them aside and start on the ground turkey. I set my skillet (same one I used for the peppers) to just over medium heat. I added garlic salt, pepper, and even a little crushed red pepper for some kick. Season it to taste, but don't over salt it cuz you'll be adding taco seasoning. The meat will release SOME water, but not much. Add about 3/4 cup to the mean once it's almost done. Sprinkle taco seasoning over top of meat. Mix it all in and finish cooking til most of water evaporates and sauce thickens:



WHILE THE MEAT IS COOKING, you can utilize your time to cut up the produce at the same time. Chop your tomatoes and your lettuce/cabbage, and mash up your avocado and add some garlic salt to it. Shred some cheese if you like, for the others in your family that might want it. Cheese is not included in the points for this taco:


Instead if frying, microwaving, or heating your shells in foil in the oven, we like to give ours a little added texture by using pam and grilling them up in the skillet. Use high heat. We spray the pan, throw down a tortilla, spray the face up side of the tortilla, and add a dash of salt. Turn the torilla over so that both sides get grilled:



And then, VOILA! You get this AWESOMENESS when you load it all together!:


Each taco contains:
1 TBS light sour cream (1 pt)
1 TBS avocado (1 pt)
Tomatoes (0 pt)
Lettuce (0 pt)
Peppers & Onions, cooked (0 pt)
Corn Tortilla (2 pt) - Note: Two tortillas works out to 3 pts.
2 ounces Ground Turkey (2 pt)
Salsa (if desired) (0 pt)

Fat AND phat.

Okay ladies. Lets be real here. I'm positively fat. And I mean come'on. I've pretty much always had a little somethin' to wiggle on the dance floor, but with each year, and each baby, boooooooy does the quality of my fat change. Let me be clear on what I mean. When I was 19, if you poked my belly, it was a firm pouch of chub right up front. You could probably get some depth if you poked your finger into my hip, too. But I mean NOW, if you looked at my waist band, that firm pouch of chub looks like someone took a flame to it, and it began to melt downward. So there's still fat there, it's just saggin' like your grandma's eye bags. The weird thing is, I'm perfectly firm and "in tact" from my legs up to my waist. Then BAM, I have melting fat that falls over an invisible belt at my waist. What the SEXY!?!?

So, I'm finally taking control. I've gone on diets before. I've worked out like a mad woman before. All with a number in mind. "Oh yeah I'm totally gonna lost 50 pounds in 6 weeks" or "Heck yeah, I'm gonna be a size 2 by Christmas" (and it's halloween and I'm in a size 10 or something). Yeah. Totes realistic, right? Wrooooong. I'm hoping that now that I'm soooooooo maTure (say that with a real 't' sound, and not the typical "chhhhh" sound) and a mommy of two (gasp), my priorities have changed. I don't want to get skinny to fit in a bikini (though that would be nice to actually look like a human being and not an oompa loompa in one). I don't want to lose the weight so people have more respect for me (though the positive attention will do marvelous things for my self esteem). I don't want to binge diet so that I lose weight so fast my body goes into crazy shock and I'm mad unhealthy. NONE. OF. THE. ABOVE. I want to be able to move quickly as my toddler bolts for the street. I wanna be able to lift my infant's carseat into my MASSIVE TAHOE without smashing my fingers on the base or on the door jam cuz I'm just to weak to have any sort of strength or control. I wanna go for a run and not stop after 10 steps because my boobs are throbbing from the maniacle bouncing. Sing it with me ladies: I wanna live. I wanna be healthy. (And lets be real. Being able to buy lingerie in ONE PIECE instead of two would be stellar. And looking HALF decent in it would be nice, too. Lingerie is supposed to empower women. It toooootally makes me want to close my eyes and pretend I'm wearing a big purple barney the dinosaur suit.)

So, I'm on my journey to LIVING!!! Yay!! I've joined a challenge with 14(ish) other people, and I'm looking to become the Biggest Loser. Honestly, if I don't win the challenge, I think I'll still be pretty darn thrilled by the time 13 weeks rolls around. Because I know with a surity that I will likely be at least 25 pounds lighter, which means I will be feeling pretty dang great about myself. And I'll be half way to my goal. And THAT, my friends, would be PHAT.

So, each evening that I make dinner, it will most certainly be awesomely healthy and rather easy to fix (otherwise I simply WOULDN'T make it). Tonight's dinner was seriously BOMB-DIG. Because of that, I want my efforts to be shared with the masses (or the 2 or 3 ladies that choose to read this blog, lol). I'll take pics and the whole 9 yards. Look forward to my next post - Ground Turkey Fajita Tacos. Sounds nasty, no? Best tacos we've had all year. And it's been a long year!!

Love ya'll.

Concern.

Ok, so I'm just gonna be real here. Ive spent the last couple hours pretty much just balling my eyes out, concerned that my newborn baby is not well. Normal for a lot of first time moms, but second time moms? Come on. Lets be real here. What are my concerns, you ask?

1) His right eye. I noticed it his second day of life. It had an unusual white crustiness to it after periods of having his eyes closed. When I mentioned it to the nurse (we were still in hospital) she dismissed it with the wave of her hand and said it was likely a reaction to the goop they put on their eyes after they're born. "It happens a lot." So fast forward one week, and each day has gotten progressively worse. Today, he can't open his eye unless I clean it for him. It's crusted closed in what looks like light green boogers, and then there's a circle around his eye of dried stuff, which today (for the first time) showed up in a totally unfashionable yellow-orange color. I called the nurses hotline. They are so so stupid & not helpful at all. Always the same conversation. (We called them when his circumcision was oober bleeding). "Fever? Swelling? Trouble eating? If so, take him in." Gee, thanks for clarifying that for me.

2) Labored breathing. My biggest concern. His tiny little chest is trying so hard with each breath - NOT something i experienced with Mckenzi. He's not congested, he's not gurgling, his breathing is clear. It's just heavy. He breathed normally for the most part, but today I've noticed it's more labored more frequently than not.

So I'm concerned. My whole family has been sick (meaning my nephews, my dad, my mom, mckenzi, neal...mostly in that order. only my dad is still sick) and although Diesel has none of the same symptoms, he is not perfectly well baby. My mind races with the possibilities. When I think about the REAL facts (no fever, no grumpiness, he nurses awesome, pees and poops like a champ) and then my mind tells me that things can't go all that bad too quick. I plan to take him to the doctor tomorrow. I'm just concerned my concerns will be dismissed.

Does anyone know why an infant's breathing is labored? Or if that's ever normal and ok? Every time I called the nurses hotline when Kenzi was little, about her being sick or something, they always asked a very specific question about her breathing. Whether it was labored, and if I could distinctly see her ribs with each breath. So that has me freaked. Obviously, I don't want my baby to stop breathing.

Being a mom is physically challenging, obviously. But the emotional challenges trump it all. You never know love like you do when you have a child, and trying to imagine life with empty arms is darned near impossible.

Negative nancy.

Look at this stomach, and tell me you don't feel my pain. Wolverine took to my stomach and clawed out some new marks. (some people like to call them stretch marks). And don't worry, that's not boob you see. I was wearing a bra. That's my hand holding me up.

I really need to be done with this pregnancy. I'm not saying it just to be a whiny complainer. I have honestly reached the point (a few days ago, actually) where simple walking isn't something that comes easily to me. It is real, legitimate pain. I literally can't life my leg into cars, or up onto the couch, or get myself into bed. The muscles in my groin and pelvic area are all but overworked and have checked out, making them impossible to use. My body broke before I had my kid. I thought it was supposed to be the other way around!

In other news, you know the last two posts about me contracting yada yada yada thinking it was the real deal? I've been contracting since friday, regularly, painfully, and I have nothing to show for it except for major discomfort that I don't get any escape from. You know that when you wish you could have an epidural at home to relieve the constant pain, it's not looking good as far as natural childbirth in the hospital goes! Here's to hoping I get second and third winds when the time actually comes. If that ever, ever happens.

He didn't get the memo

Well. I could have written my last post at midnight, since when I went to sleep, it was the same story. Things didn't lighten up until I tried to sleep...and from there, it just gets blurry. It's 6 or 7 hours later now, and although I'm still contracting (though not as frequently) I can't sleep anymore. I was up through the night (peeing a tablespoon's worth here and there), drinking mylanta for the gnarly reappearance of my acid indigestion, and occasionally breathing through an uncomfortable set of cntrx. I imagine this will be what my day is like, since the cntrx are still here. When i get up, they pick up. Neal is back at work. I'm laying in bed just trying to embrace the annoying nature of early labor, while trying to see the upside (shorter delivery?). Will keep y'all posted. Have no fear. My iPhone charger is packed in the hospital bag. I swear though...if this kid waits for his due date (Monday), I'm gonna kick his dad. :)

Sweet niblets

i THINK that i might be in labor. In order to not jinx the possibilies, i'm keeping a tight lid on it. i've been having contractions since after my prenatal massage, which ended at 4. They started out totally non promising, like 20 minutes apart. 45 minutes later we went to my little cousin's flag football game, where it was over 100 degrees. As soon as I sat down, the contractions started full force with their regularity and discomfort. Good times. So I walked to the snack shack to pick up a sno cone for Kenz. That was rough. And slow. Haha. ::::::::::Contraction:::::::::: The game continued, as did my contrx in their awesomeness. By the time we left, around 5:45, I was really feeling them. My Grandpa's birthday is today, so the plan was to head straight to Olive Garden for the festivities. We also decided we needed to pick up a rental car, considering mine is now GONE. (THANKS A LOT, NEAL.) Show up to rental car place, and I make Neal stop before each speed bump, the contrx are that uncomfortable. We show up at 6:06. They closed at 6. Then I decided to skip the bday dinner, since I had counted 4 contrx, each 2 minutes apart, and too intense for me to want to sit through for dinner. I did that a week ago at Benihana, and lets just say its no picnic for anyone at all. So we hit McD's and bought the toddler a happy meal, and headed home. It's now 8, I've been timing my contrx on my handy dandy baby bump app, and they've stayes 2-3 minutes apart lasting 60-90 seconds for two hours now. But I've only done the timing for 2 hours. So technically, I've been having them since 4. But only really since 5. It's funny, because as I was driving, and they were just getting worse and worse, all I could think was, "Yeah right you're just gonna use hypnosis." Lets be real here. I purchased a 6 week course, and I've finished 2 weeks. THIS weeks course was supposed to be the real deal one where I learn to put myself in and out of hypnosis, and create my own anesthesia. So much for that. I think I will look forward to my epidural with eagerness, unfortunately. I'll do my best ::::::::::ouch CONTRACTION:::;:::: to hold out. I'm sorta confused about when to call my doula, since the last time this happened, it fizzled out after 2.5 hours. I'll continue to time and measure the pain, and if things intensify, I'll call her. My mom thinks Im nuts for hanging out at the house at all, but her labors all went FAST. Remember how I was born in a car? Yeah. Fast. At her last delivery, she wanted a epidural soooo bad, but when she got to the hospital, she was already too far along and had the baby like 20 minutes later haha. Sucks for her, but can we say rad? Rad. Walking through the contrx is impossible by the way. Mckenzi just asked me to get up and get her a popsicle (my husband is at the airport getting a rental car as we speak. awesome? no) and it took me like 6 minutes. Do you know where my couch is in relation to the fridge? I'd say 6 feet. Tops. It hurt. Kenz stared at me, and kept looking down at my feet like, "Um, what's the hold up, lady?" But there was definite concern in her eyes. Cute. She's now contently eating her popsicle, watching Tangled, and Im :::ouuuuch contrx::::: blogging about nothingness, surely. I had wanted to make brownies for the nurses, but I'm sitting here hurting, thinking "the nurses can make their own damn brownies". So for now, this is our little secret. I think I'm in labor, my husband is in denial, and this is just not how i imagined it. He should be here with me, rubbing my back, asking what he can do for me, letting me yell at him and stuff. Instead, I'm timing my own contractions, focusing on my own breathing, while tending to my needy little two year old and he's in a long line at the airport waiting to rent some stinky car to bring our newborn home in. Not to mention my birthing ball is now FLAT and Neal is not here to fill it up. Awesomeness. Negativity. Yessssss. ::::::::contraction:::::::::::

Private, shmivate.

Making my personal blog private was something that I did in order to protect the famdam. But with that decision, I blog much less. Lets be real. If your blog roll isn't updated to let you know who is blogging, realistically you're not gonna make the effort to check their blog. But heck, I still blog the important deets, because the whooooooole point of the blog is maintaining a record for posterity. Right? Duh. That said, the personal blog will stay exactly that. Personal. For people who KNOW the intimate details of our lives. That way I don't have to worry about any crazy creepers. This here blog will be for me. No major details about the private life of my family. Just private details about meeeeeee hahaha. A girl's gotta have an outlet, am I right or am I right? Moving on.

Today I am officially 39 weeks and 4 days pregnant will a small toddler growing inside. There was one time maybe 5 or 6 days ago that I really thought I was in labor. Every sign was there. Back labor, consistent contractions 2 minutes apart for at least 90 seconds, for over 2 hours straight. Pain, nausea, tears, the whole 9 yards. We can thank my ever-so-religious little sister for stalling THAT labor experience. She prayed for it. It worked. Her plans were not interrupted. Siiiiigh. Things have quieted down since. Which I can't say I'm thrilled about. I do, however, have the runs today. Awesome, awesome, I know. I have gone to bed the last two nights MAJORLY ready to lose my chunks, and even woke up and did just that. My body is begging for release. My mind is passed the point of sanely handling the oober awesome joys of pregnancy. And my hoo-haw expired days ago. We are talking severe throbbing, people. His head is engaged, rudely low, and pleading for exit. But alas, he must be holding on to my guts or something, because the kid is not coming out. He's playing his imaginary banjo, strummin at my insides with gentle caressing and sweetness. COME. OUT. I think I'm losing my plug...not certain though. With my first pregnancy, I was like CERTAIN I lost it. My membranes had been stripped, so I got the awesome plug/bloody show sweetness that everyone loves. Of course, that time it did NOTHING for me. Anyway, this time around since I'm going the naaaaatural way, I'm losing it a bit at a time, without much other "stuff". This is a gross topic, right? Right. BITE ME. :)

My husband is out looking for a new car today. We sold our Camry, it's just too small man. So we're aiming for a Taho/Suburban/Large SUV type. I'd totally go for a Swagger Wagon , but alas, we are buying used. My hubs and I sorta have major car buying issues. We do it all the time. So we are trying something new in an effort to not lose major bones this next time around. Used it is! Woohooo!! Anyway, he's out with my dad doing that today. We have all of, like, today to take care of that issue, as we give our beloved Camry to the new owner this friday...and we might have a baby somewhere in there, too, cutting back our free time. Holllllerr for babies.

K, I'm out.