Kicking butt

I recently took a new job, hence the lack of posts in the past month.

I've learned with myself that if there's a big change in my life, I need to give myself time to adjust. Maybe it's my INTJ personality, or maybe I've just learned that I adjust better when I can focus all of my energy on something, rather than just trying to get it to "fit in" with everything else I have going on.

But, enough of the reasoning/excuses.

I want to talk about another recent change. And, to be honest, I can see it being controversial, at best. Especially since the change I made impacted something I was very private about to begin with. Something I don't like to admit, but feel I should.

Only in the '80s could parents
take a photo like this and have
it be considered "funny."

 I am was a smoker.

Let's start way back ...

Well, not that far back.

Back when I was in college. My freshman year. I was on my winter break and I had $5 to my name. I could either use that to get something to eat and worry about starving for the rest of the week and mooching off my parents for food, or, as a friend put it, I could buy a pack of cigarettes and the hunger would go away.

The stuff I used to judge ...

Before I was a mom, well, let's just say I wish I could go back and slap myself in the face for judging any other parent ever in the history of the world. Except when I judged "Mommie Dearest." I think that was the only one that was OK to have an opinion on.

The truth is, parents are doing the best we can. As much as I thought to my "wiser" (read: wiseass) self, "Oh, when I'm a mom, I won't _____(fill in the blank)___ like that mom over there," I had no right to even have an opinion. Even if it was a positive one. Because you don't know until you are a parent.

Tantrum Level Midnight

I read in "The Happiest Toddler on the Block" that the peak for tantrums is actually 18 months. By the time I had finally gotten around to reading the book, L. was about 22 months. I heaved a sigh of relief and tore through the book as quickly as I could. After learning how to spot a tantrum before it begins (warning signs are the key, by the way), either her tantrums have gone down on their own because she could communicate more or I'm just that good.

(Note: Pat yourselves on the back every so often. It feels good. And you deserve it.)

Parkercise: How I finally lost the baby weight!

* In no way am I a medical expert. The closest I've come is taking a few anatomy classes and being a sports and leisure management major for a year in college. 

It's official. I am down the 20 pounds I set my goal for! You know what's sad? I'm not as enthusiastic as I thought I'd be. Isn't that always the way? I guess because you lose weight so slowly, you don't notice. I notice in pictures of myself. I notice in my clothes. But, I don't know, I just don't FEEL 20 pounds lighter.

But you, dear readers, don't care about that, right? You want to know HOW I did it.

If you're like me, you see a post on losing 20 pounds in a certain amount of time. Mine happened to be in 8 weeks, practically. From your perspective, eight weeks doesn't seem that long. It's eight. It's not 10, which is a really long time, apparently. And, for the first two weeks or so, it'll seem like a cinch to reach eight weeks.

But it's hard. It's frustrating. The initial weight loss is amazing and it goes so quickly. And starting anything new is always fun at first but, at least for me, my brain and body start saying, "OK, this was fun and all, but, um, when are we going back to doing things our way? As in, doing the absolute bare minimum every day. Seriously, we don't have the time or the energy for this anymore."

One of the biggest hurdles was finding the time. I love doing yoga, but on top of getting dressed for it, putting in the DVD and waiting for it to load, getting out the mat and accessories, there's also the shower afterward I have to account for. I have two hours before work now and, as much as I'd like to put in my 50-minute yoga DVD, I'm really looking at an hour and 15 minutes dedicated to working out. That's a lot of time, in my world. So, I had to figure out a way to be a mom and exercise.

I present to you Parkercise.

Celebrating small victories

I am a reluctant tosser. Despite the three garbage bags of clothes recently donated from the depths of my closets and drawers, I will not get rid of clothes I absolutely love and have served me well. I will repurpose them if I need to. But, if it's not stained, ripped or out of style, the fact that I can't fit into an article of clothing will not stop me from wearing it.

Meet one of the greatest tricks I learned in pregnancy:

The elastic-through-the-button-hole.

(Stretch marks blended, courtesy of an app on my phone. But, trust me, my tiger mom stripes are pink and prominent!)

Less is more: Cleaning out my closet

I'm currently reading The Happiness Project by Gretchen Rubin. One of her tasks was a major wardrobe downsizing. Between her and (the love of my life) Tsh of SimpleMom, I had heard the phrase "You only wear 20 percent of your clothes 80 percent of the time."

Considering how my laundry was piling up, I could have probably just gotten rid of anything that wasn't in the laundry basket, since I seem to always look in my closet and have "nothing to wear." But I still decided to take L.'s nap time to reorganize the disaster closet. 

The "nothing to wear" closet.

The War

My darling sleep,

How I already miss you. I was taken away from you too soon this morning, not even by the Enemy, but by a thunderstorm, which in turn woke the Enemy from her slumbers.

When hoping to reunite with you during our usual afternoon rendezvous while the Enemy napped, a new strategy was used that our side was not prepared for: the Enemy has learned to climb out of her prison cell, or "crib," as we call it here on the battlefield. The sound of "thumps" came from Enemy camp as she fell onto the floor and promptly kept playing.

Soon, she had wandered over our line, camouflaged in dirty PJs from the laundry basket that, fittingly enough, said, "Too Cute to Sleep" and with a huge grin on her face, causing our side to erupt into hysterics.