Weekly Update.

The other day, I said I was going to take up couponing. I managed to purchase a binder and a hole puncher thingy … and that’s as far as I’ve gotten.

Here is what I HAVE managed to do:

1. Spend $41 at Bath & Body Works online. I had a coupon code … so … I did save money. And our house NEEDS to smell like “Leaves” (the wallflower scent) as soon as possible. Because I am overly paranoid that it still smells like poop after what went down the other night.

2. I took both of my kids to the mall, by myself. I do not own a double stroller, although I cursed myself several times during that outing for not having one. I stuck TWO in my Ergo carrier and ONE was in the stroller. We lunched in the Food Court. People stared. I stared back.

3. I taught my three-year-old the words to Adele’s Someone Like You. Not really on purpose, more like I was sick of listening to screaming so I turned it up and sang it over and over again until I realized someone was singing with me … that would be ONE.

4. I drove across town to the cheapest drycleaning service I know of and dropped off ONE’s poop-infested comforter. It wouldn’t fit in my washing machine. It cost me $2o. I don’t plan to pick it up until ONE starts begging for it back. Right now he has sheets over his windows where the curtains used to be. I don’t plan on putting those back for awhile, either. I didn’t feel like ironing the damn things anyway.

5. I stopped caring about weight loss and exercise. All I cared about this week was getting through the day. Next week might be better. I am so stressed out I can’t eat anyway. I am now 16 pounds from my pre-pregnancy weight. I wish I could bottle and market the diet I’m currently on. I would then have enough money to pay for Mother’s Day Out. Or a membership to a gym. ONE THAT HAS CHILDCARE.

Couponing.

Ugh … money. We don’t have much of it. It’s such a downer.

I have no choice but to learn to coupon and I can’t even tell you how overwhelming it is. I watched the show Extreme Couponing to try to get myself excited about it, but I came away from it thinking that those bitches are a special brand of crazy. A brand I don’t care to become.

I hate, hate, HATE:

1. Math.

2. Things that require too much thought.

3. Standing behind someone in line who has coupons. 

I used to work at a grocery store, and I hated couponers. They would happily hold up the line over $0.35. Or they would stand in line at Customer Service forever waiting to get a rain check for an item we were out of. It just didn’t make sense to me. Time is money. It seemed like they were wasting a lot of their time. And mine.

I guess I shouldn’t have ridiculed couponers for all these years, since I am grudgingly going to become one. It’s out of necessity, not because I have a sick need for a “stockpile,” let’s be clear about that.

Now I have a stack of unclipped coupons sitting on my kitchen table … and they are mocking me. I am mocking myself. I might as well go ahead and use all the money I save on my next shopping trip to buy a pair of mom jeans and a purple hair scrunchy.

(source)

My new goal: to make couponing cool not entirely dorky.

Boo.

I love my little dragon.

I felt guilty that I took exactly zero pictures with TWO, but he was asleep in the stroller the whole time and there was no way I was going to mess with that.

Hankering for some exceptional people-watching? I suggest you head on over to Boo At The Zoo. I was impressed, mostly because of the number of adults who made us question — are they, or aren’t they in costume? HMMMMM.

This Week.

If I am going to blog, does that mean I have to invest in a fancy camera? Because I definitely take all of my pictures with my cell phone. And I am fine with that … until I go to other blogs and see all the pretty pictures there. 

That prompts feelings of inadequacy that I do not enjoy. But I don’t have the money to spend on a fancy camera. And if Husband secretly saved up a stash of money (this likely will never happen) to buy me something with, I would NOT want a camera. I’d want clothes and undergarments that actually fit me correctly, because let me tell you, that is something I do not have.

This week, the following took place: I took TWO to the chiropractor. I had a horrible fight with Husband and I called him a sucklord. Not to his face. 

I cooked dinner for the first time in months. I think I expected everyone to be more excited than they were. Then I realized that must be why people always say that motherhood is a thankless job. Because this week, I have also managed to stay on top of the laundry and put it all away by myself — all whilst balancing colic and three-year-old brattyness and general havoc. No one said thank you for that either. So I thanked myself.

No, there isn’t whiskey in my coffee cup. 

But if there was … would that be so wrong?

Also, I find myself wondering if I will look back on these chronicles of TWO’s early life and wonder why I thought it was appropriate to post pictures of myself on the internet, looking a hot mess. I likely won’t remember doing it. 

I have a feeling that I won’t remember this phase of my life at ALL.  It will just be a blur. Well … except for this blog. 

Which is proof of what really went down.






Revelations.

Husband took over baby duty last night so I could sleep (he offered! I didn’t even have to ask — major points), and then when my family woke me up this morning I was a complete bitch. So did the extra sleep do any good? 

I think it only gave me extra energy to be rude.

Currently, I’m drinking my first batch of coffee and working on my attitude. I think I just need some time to myself without anyone talking to me through a locked door. Husband seems to understand that about me — my need for autonomy. I am a very independent person. It’s wearing to have little people clinging to me all day, even though I love them. He works long hours. I think he realizes I have taken on quite a task here. Hopefully, I can find balance to my new life so that I don’t continue to behave irrationally.

But … there is good news. I am down 28 pounds! I have a LOT more to go before I’m at my “goal” weight, but it’s an excellent start considering I am not dieting or exercising. I am simply caring for two small children which is a diet and exercise plan in itself.  

Too bad I gained twice the recommended amount during my pregnancy, otherwise I’d be done with the pregnancy weight and could move on to other things. Like working on my six-pack. 

Look out, Fergie.

(source)









Friday.

GOOD GRIEF. 
I made it through this ridiculous week. The hazing is now complete.

I will be treating myself to a pedicure tomorrow while Husband watches ONE and TWO (read: watches the LSU game while ONE runs wild, and TWO sits in a boppy pillow staring blankly)

I haven’t looked at my feet in a long time … but a toenail caught on my bedsheet last night as I was tossing and turning, and it reminded me I really need to pay attention to myself before I turn into “that” mom who “used to be cute.”

Also, it’s high time I got out of the house.

Moms Who Rock!

Tonight is the Birmingham Mommy Moms Who Rock! event, and I am going to miss it. Free stuff, food, drinks, and music … it’s really hard to say no. But I must, because I am 11 days postpartum and depressing as it might be, I am not nearly back to my old self.

Also, I have nothing cute to wear. Clearly, that’s a problem.

OCD.

I live in a townhouse. I don’t have a picture of the row of houses, but they all look the same. Here is our door.

You get the idea.

 We live next door to a family of totally nice, normal people. The man of the house is a cop and I like that. It makes me feel safe. Their two boys are polite and friendly, and the mom is someone I would feel comfortable leaving my kids with if there was an emergency. 

You know how you get a vibe from some people, that they are just nice people? I get that from them.

On the OTHER side of us, lives a weirdo. One day, she might come across this blog and get offended, but to that I’d like to say, THIS IS WHAT HAPPENS WHEN YOU RUN INTO SOMEONE’S MAILBOX AND NEVER APOLOGIZE OR OFFER TO REPAIR IT. They will tell people you’re weird and/or trashy, that’s what.

I have always gotten a “weirdo — keep away” vibe from this chick and Husband said I was just being snobby. Um, no. My vibes are dead on, thank you. She has all these strange people staying with her and we are constantly having issues with them. Not to mention they all look like they are on parole.

Yesterday, my normal neighbor came over to see the baby. When she walked in she complimented my home, and this is what happened:

Normal Neighbor: Your house always looks so nice and clean, I don’t see how you do it.

Me: I might have just a touch of OCD.

Normal Neighbor: (looks alarmed)

Me: I mean, it’s nothing serious. Just a little touch.

It was then that I realized, I probably shouldn’t joke about that.

Fantasizing.

Yesterday I shrieked, I am so sick of being fat!!!! to Husband in the middle of Target. It seems I have hit a new low.

I’ve taken to looking at old pictures of myself when I wasn’t 50+ pounds over my normal weight. Here I am on Christmas morning 2007, right after I got a positive pregnancy test for the baby that would become ONE. I have on no makeup and I’m wearing Husband’s sweats, but look at my arms. And my boobs for that matter.

They look so small.

I’ve been fantasizing about my weight-loss plan of attack after TWO gets here … and … also obsessively considering plastic surgery. Husband has agreed that once I’m done having children (TWO is not our last) that we can evaluate our budget and if we have the money (we likely will not), then I can have some things done. I do not take offense that he is supportive.

Let me just say here that I am not a fan of messing with one’s face or parts that aren’t truly, well, a mess. But I can assure you that after I lose all of the weight from TWO (I will. I will. I will. I will.), then possibly have more children and continue that cycle, I WILL BE A MESS

I dread hearing what my family will have to say. It’s not like you can buy new boobs without notice, though. And a new stomach, and possibly a little lipo. But I really feel that nothing is wrong with being One Hot Mother.