I've been talking to my husband about going back to Zumba classes for quite some time. Finally, yesterday was the day. I was so excited that instead of wearing my usual workout gear, I went and purchased a new outfit.
Trying to show how good a student I can be, I arrived at the class early. I took a spot in the middle, did a few stretches to look like I knew what the heck I was doing, and smiled at everyone that came in.
The instructor arrived happy and full of energy. The class begin and my form was perfect! Flawless. I was doing the Cha-Cha and shimmying my behind off. When it came time to do push ups, I was cranking them out. Usually I'm not a upper body strength kind of girl, but it came out of somewhere and I was doing push ups like never before. My smile was still there, and the bounce in my step was still as strong as ever.
And then it happened.... I started to lose my steam. I pushed harder for a few minutes and then I knew it. I was done for. My chest was burning, ears were ringing, legs were screaming, I could not take anymore. With my head held high, I glanced at the clock. I just KNEW that the hour was almost up, if I were a gambling person, I'd have bet money on it. My heart dropped to my toes when I realized that only 20 minutes had passed.
The instructor turned around to change the song, and I hightailed it the heck out of there!!! My hair was glued to my forehead, and my cute new workout outfit had turned into a wet suit.
On my way home I remembered that Hubby had just bought a tub of ice cream from Cold Stone Creamery, and I put the pedal to the metal. LOL!
So, Zumba, you win for now. But one day, I will defeat you (and stop eating ice cream)!
Wednesday, October 19, 2011
Saturday, October 15, 2011
"Rolling in the deep..."
Be prepared folks, this post is going to be a little deep...
(I just love Adele! If you haven't heard her song, "Rolling in the deep" you are seriously missing out, YOUTUBE it!!)
I'll tell you a little secret that I learned during my 9 (nearly 10) months of being a mother. And it is....
Be honest with yourself.
Seriously. When you feel like you can't handle everything, admit and and accept it. It'll help you feel more sane, and in turn, you will start to prioritize and end up getting EVERYTHING accomplished.
Now, it's my turn to be honest:
I seem to be lacking self-esteem in the "Mommy Department". I often doubt that I'm doing a great job as a Mom. True, I am giving Yorlee my best. But the doubt in the back of my head that my best isn't good enough for her, tries to control my mind sometimes.
I think it comes from feeling that I don't have support. And I don't mean that my friends, fellow bloggers, and family aren't being supportive. Because you are! They are! But, because I don't have parents of my own that I can go to, who really GET IT, it makes me feel incomplete. You know? Well, maybe you don't. This is where it gets deep...
My mom committed suicide when I was 12 years old. Tragic. I know. It was terrible. The guilt and the 'what ifs' consumed me for years. Yes, I know it wasn't my fault. But it did make me wish I had hugged her a little tighter, appreciated her a little more, not have been embarrassed, etc. My father? Never in the picture. Yup, I was one of those kids. What do I mean by that? Low-income, single parent family, barely making it, user of your tax dollars - kids. I didn't know that growing up, my childhood was just as happy and fulfilling as it could be. My mom was AWESOME! Although we struggled financially at times, she taught us poise, confidence, respect, and intellect. My siblings and I were some of the brightest, kindest, most eager kids in our classes. Our teachers still remember us to this day.
The fact that my mom did so much for FIVE children on her own, astonishes me.
I have moments when I would love to say, "Mom, what did you do when such-and-such happened?" But I can't. And that makes me feel so alone at times. I would love to be able to have my Mom's advice. I would love to hear about how she taught me to be who I am today. How she juggled being my Mom, Dad, and teacher, while providing my siblings with the same. How did she do it?!?
I've tried to reach out to my mother-in-law. She's a nice person, but she's cut from different fabric. And it's not bad fabric, it's just not the material that I would like my daughter to be adorned with for the rest of her life. She is more concerned with appearance and entertainment, than personality or morals. I believe that it's what is on the inside that truly counts. And I'm not saying that you shouldn't try to look nice, and want nice things. I'm just saying that if I were to pass away tomorrow, I wouldn't want people to say, "Wow, that's so sad, she wore such trendy clothes and her house was beautifully decorated." Or, "I'll really miss her, she always had the cutest shoes on, and her car was so nice!" Instead, I'd love for people to say, "I wish she were still here, she was so nice and caring." Or, "I learned a lot from her, she helped me become a better person."
I really hope that I'm raising Yorlee to be an amazing person. I often question if I'm teaching her the right things, providing the correct discipline, being a good enough example, demonstrating patience and understanding, etc.
All I can do is give her my all, and hope for the best.
(I just love Adele! If you haven't heard her song, "Rolling in the deep" you are seriously missing out, YOUTUBE it!!)
I'll tell you a little secret that I learned during my 9 (nearly 10) months of being a mother. And it is....
Be honest with yourself.
Seriously. When you feel like you can't handle everything, admit and and accept it. It'll help you feel more sane, and in turn, you will start to prioritize and end up getting EVERYTHING accomplished.
Now, it's my turn to be honest:
I seem to be lacking self-esteem in the "Mommy Department". I often doubt that I'm doing a great job as a Mom. True, I am giving Yorlee my best. But the doubt in the back of my head that my best isn't good enough for her, tries to control my mind sometimes.
I think it comes from feeling that I don't have support. And I don't mean that my friends, fellow bloggers, and family aren't being supportive. Because you are! They are! But, because I don't have parents of my own that I can go to, who really GET IT, it makes me feel incomplete. You know? Well, maybe you don't. This is where it gets deep...
My mom committed suicide when I was 12 years old. Tragic. I know. It was terrible. The guilt and the 'what ifs' consumed me for years. Yes, I know it wasn't my fault. But it did make me wish I had hugged her a little tighter, appreciated her a little more, not have been embarrassed, etc. My father? Never in the picture. Yup, I was one of those kids. What do I mean by that? Low-income, single parent family, barely making it, user of your tax dollars - kids. I didn't know that growing up, my childhood was just as happy and fulfilling as it could be. My mom was AWESOME! Although we struggled financially at times, she taught us poise, confidence, respect, and intellect. My siblings and I were some of the brightest, kindest, most eager kids in our classes. Our teachers still remember us to this day.
The fact that my mom did so much for FIVE children on her own, astonishes me.
I have moments when I would love to say, "Mom, what did you do when such-and-such happened?" But I can't. And that makes me feel so alone at times. I would love to be able to have my Mom's advice. I would love to hear about how she taught me to be who I am today. How she juggled being my Mom, Dad, and teacher, while providing my siblings with the same. How did she do it?!?
I've tried to reach out to my mother-in-law. She's a nice person, but she's cut from different fabric. And it's not bad fabric, it's just not the material that I would like my daughter to be adorned with for the rest of her life. She is more concerned with appearance and entertainment, than personality or morals. I believe that it's what is on the inside that truly counts. And I'm not saying that you shouldn't try to look nice, and want nice things. I'm just saying that if I were to pass away tomorrow, I wouldn't want people to say, "Wow, that's so sad, she wore such trendy clothes and her house was beautifully decorated." Or, "I'll really miss her, she always had the cutest shoes on, and her car was so nice!" Instead, I'd love for people to say, "I wish she were still here, she was so nice and caring." Or, "I learned a lot from her, she helped me become a better person."
I really hope that I'm raising Yorlee to be an amazing person. I often question if I'm teaching her the right things, providing the correct discipline, being a good enough example, demonstrating patience and understanding, etc.
All I can do is give her my all, and hope for the best.
Friday, October 14, 2011
"No honey, it's not nice to slap Mommy!!!"
Am I the only one that has to constantly repeat that phrase?
Lately, Yorlee has been finding exquisite delight in trying to slap the taste out of my mouth. It started playfully enough, I thought she was figuring out that by using her hand and another object, she can make a sound. Maybe I'm foolish, but I didn't think it would cause a problem letting her sneak a little slap in here and there.
We were in Walmart (one of my favs) the other day buying a cool mist vaporizer for her room. I forgot her cart cover and she was flopping to one side so I took her out and carried her while my husband pushed the cart. We walked past two women, and they smiled politely at us and were going to keep walking until Yorlee flashed her gummy grin at them and reached out. Of course they couldn't resist (who could?! LOL!) and ran over to us. After asking me her name and how old she is, one of the ladies reached up and tickled Yorlee. Her reaction? A belly laugh, and a double handed slap to Mommy's face. The woman said, "Oh, dear, are you okay?", and I smiled and laughed it off. She looked so concerned.
Last night, while I was trying to put her to bed, she was fighting me. I rocked her, and was kissing her face when she turned to look at me and then slapped me in the face again, and would have done so repeatedly had I not stopped her.
What is this about?
She doesn't do it to my husband nearly as much as she does it to me. When she does it, I firmly say, "No", but she just thinks it's funny and will smile at me and try again. After the second attempt, I usually help her clap her hands together. Or bring over a toy and play with her.
The logical part of me thinks that this is just a developmental phase and once she understand fully that if you bang on an object you can make a sound, while the emotional side thinks she secretly hates me and slaps me on purpose.
She doesn't do it at daycare either. Maybe she's trying to express herself and getting frustrated? I did kind of slack off on the baby sign language.
Any tips?
Lately, Yorlee has been finding exquisite delight in trying to slap the taste out of my mouth. It started playfully enough, I thought she was figuring out that by using her hand and another object, she can make a sound. Maybe I'm foolish, but I didn't think it would cause a problem letting her sneak a little slap in here and there.
We were in Walmart (one of my favs) the other day buying a cool mist vaporizer for her room. I forgot her cart cover and she was flopping to one side so I took her out and carried her while my husband pushed the cart. We walked past two women, and they smiled politely at us and were going to keep walking until Yorlee flashed her gummy grin at them and reached out. Of course they couldn't resist (who could?! LOL!) and ran over to us. After asking me her name and how old she is, one of the ladies reached up and tickled Yorlee. Her reaction? A belly laugh, and a double handed slap to Mommy's face. The woman said, "Oh, dear, are you okay?", and I smiled and laughed it off. She looked so concerned.
Last night, while I was trying to put her to bed, she was fighting me. I rocked her, and was kissing her face when she turned to look at me and then slapped me in the face again, and would have done so repeatedly had I not stopped her.
What is this about?
She doesn't do it to my husband nearly as much as she does it to me. When she does it, I firmly say, "No", but she just thinks it's funny and will smile at me and try again. After the second attempt, I usually help her clap her hands together. Or bring over a toy and play with her.
The logical part of me thinks that this is just a developmental phase and once she understand fully that if you bang on an object you can make a sound, while the emotional side thinks she secretly hates me and slaps me on purpose.
She doesn't do it at daycare either. Maybe she's trying to express herself and getting frustrated? I did kind of slack off on the baby sign language.
Any tips?
Thursday, October 13, 2011
My sick little muffin..
Here is a pic of Yorlee when we were at her pediatrician's office. Even though she was sick, she kept flashing the cutest little smiles. I had to take a picture of her in her little gown.
Wednesday, October 12, 2011
How long can you hold your breath?
I held my breath for forty weeks, I would have held it longer if necessary, but someone came along and stole my breath away.
It started when my husband and I were trying to expand our family. Every month, we would time and wait, and I would hold my breath. And then, that beautiful month in April, I was able to make two lines appear on that magical stick, and I held my breath.
The time came to confirm what the stick was trying to tell me, and I held my breath until the appointment. One hurdle down, the next was an ultrasound. I was expecting to hold my breath for nearly a week, only to see some spotting and be told that my numbers didn't double, so come in quick! An ultrasound was scheduled for 8PM. I searched the technician's face, never even attempting to take a breath. "Do you see a sac? A heartbeat? Something, anything?!?"
Waiting, and waiting, and waiting. Finally, a faint flicker on the screen. "Can my husband come see? He's never been in one of these rooms before?" Holding my breath for the answer I would like, only to be shot down. That's okay. I have hope that he will see this faint flicker one day. I proudly held my breath after that day. Happy that for once, things were going okay. But don't breathe yet, having been down that road before I knew how quickly things could change...
I refused to take in even a tiny bit of air for twelve whole weeks to be sure that I was out of the woods. Until I realized that safety was still just out of reach. I needed to keep hoping/wishing/praying that things would be okay, she needed to stay in at least until 24 weeks. She. It's a girl!! She needs to reach viability.
Everyday felt like three. I swore I was going to have a nervous breakdown at 22 weeks. Thinking that something could happen, and I would have been just two measly weeks away from viability. The thought broke my heart. I never knew that 14 days could mean so much to me.
Fast forward to 34 weeks. Preterm labor haunted me like a bad dream. I remember my midwife talking to me, her voice sounding like an echo in the distance, "Bed rest, preterm labor, softening cervix." Braxton Hicks contractions every five minutes reminded me that I had made it so far, yet still needed more time. By that time, I was a pro at holding my breath. Anxiously waiting for the next road block, or obstacle to come my way.
FINALLY, 37 weeks!! Full term! I couldn't stop dreaming about meeting my baby girl, seeing her face for the first time, holding her, kissing those little lips. The fact that I could love someone so much was amazing. I knew that I was ready. Boy oh boy was I ready....
To GET HER OUT! I'm 39 weeks, I can't wait to meet her! Why isn't she here already? Holding my breath for the day when I would look over at my husband to declare that "It's TIME!". Ahh! The suspense! My heavy midsection was ready, hips aching, back burning, but I couldn't wipe the smile off of my face. It wouldn't long now. My dream was about to come true.
40 weeks on the nose, water breaks. This is it! This is what I have been waiting for, holding my breath for. Then, I feel it, the first contraction. Wow, it's worse than I could have ever expected. Holding my breath until the I was able to get an epidural. Not even thinking about breathing while my back was cleaned with that cold, wet, abrasive sponge. Ahh, relief. What? No, the pain is back, and worse than ever! Gah!! In my head I'm chanting, "Don't breathe, don't breathe!" While my husband and midwife are yelling at me to "BREATHE, BREATHE!! One more push, you can do it!". I did it... I did it... Look at her, she's beautiful. Counting the fingers and toes, they're all there! She's perfect!
Inhale, exhale. Whew! We made it. It was a wild ride, but so worth it. Finally, our hospital stay is over. 'Wait, we just go home? With this tiny, fragile human?'
Oh dear.... Breathe in, hold it.....
Now nearly ten months later, I still have to be reminded to breathe. Enjoy every day. Appreciate what I have. Relax, I can't control everything. Live in the moment. But most importantly, I have to keep breathing...
It started when my husband and I were trying to expand our family. Every month, we would time and wait, and I would hold my breath. And then, that beautiful month in April, I was able to make two lines appear on that magical stick, and I held my breath.
The time came to confirm what the stick was trying to tell me, and I held my breath until the appointment. One hurdle down, the next was an ultrasound. I was expecting to hold my breath for nearly a week, only to see some spotting and be told that my numbers didn't double, so come in quick! An ultrasound was scheduled for 8PM. I searched the technician's face, never even attempting to take a breath. "Do you see a sac? A heartbeat? Something, anything?!?"
Waiting, and waiting, and waiting. Finally, a faint flicker on the screen. "Can my husband come see? He's never been in one of these rooms before?" Holding my breath for the answer I would like, only to be shot down. That's okay. I have hope that he will see this faint flicker one day. I proudly held my breath after that day. Happy that for once, things were going okay. But don't breathe yet, having been down that road before I knew how quickly things could change...
I refused to take in even a tiny bit of air for twelve whole weeks to be sure that I was out of the woods. Until I realized that safety was still just out of reach. I needed to keep hoping/wishing/praying that things would be okay, she needed to stay in at least until 24 weeks. She. It's a girl!! She needs to reach viability.
Everyday felt like three. I swore I was going to have a nervous breakdown at 22 weeks. Thinking that something could happen, and I would have been just two measly weeks away from viability. The thought broke my heart. I never knew that 14 days could mean so much to me.
Fast forward to 34 weeks. Preterm labor haunted me like a bad dream. I remember my midwife talking to me, her voice sounding like an echo in the distance, "Bed rest, preterm labor, softening cervix." Braxton Hicks contractions every five minutes reminded me that I had made it so far, yet still needed more time. By that time, I was a pro at holding my breath. Anxiously waiting for the next road block, or obstacle to come my way.
FINALLY, 37 weeks!! Full term! I couldn't stop dreaming about meeting my baby girl, seeing her face for the first time, holding her, kissing those little lips. The fact that I could love someone so much was amazing. I knew that I was ready. Boy oh boy was I ready....
To GET HER OUT! I'm 39 weeks, I can't wait to meet her! Why isn't she here already? Holding my breath for the day when I would look over at my husband to declare that "It's TIME!". Ahh! The suspense! My heavy midsection was ready, hips aching, back burning, but I couldn't wipe the smile off of my face. It wouldn't long now. My dream was about to come true.
40 weeks on the nose, water breaks. This is it! This is what I have been waiting for, holding my breath for. Then, I feel it, the first contraction. Wow, it's worse than I could have ever expected. Holding my breath until the I was able to get an epidural. Not even thinking about breathing while my back was cleaned with that cold, wet, abrasive sponge. Ahh, relief. What? No, the pain is back, and worse than ever! Gah!! In my head I'm chanting, "Don't breathe, don't breathe!" While my husband and midwife are yelling at me to "BREATHE, BREATHE!! One more push, you can do it!". I did it... I did it... Look at her, she's beautiful. Counting the fingers and toes, they're all there! She's perfect!
Inhale, exhale. Whew! We made it. It was a wild ride, but so worth it. Finally, our hospital stay is over. 'Wait, we just go home? With this tiny, fragile human?'
Oh dear.... Breathe in, hold it.....
Now nearly ten months later, I still have to be reminded to breathe. Enjoy every day. Appreciate what I have. Relax, I can't control everything. Live in the moment. But most importantly, I have to keep breathing...
Croup and an ear infection
My poor little pumpkin has been battling croup and an ear infection for the past week. She is such a trooper though, she never really acted sick. I noticed that she wasn't finishing her bottles, and was a little cranky, so I decided to take her to the doctor.
Thank goodness I did!!
She had a raging ear infection, and was diagnosed with croup. We've been trying to keep the air cooler in the house to help her breathe better, as well as taking her for walks at night. She is also on oral steroids and antibiotics. The good news is that she never had a fever, and has been happily playing, so hopefully she is on the mend for good.
Oh, and I realized I never blogged about my weekend with hubby. It was great!! We went to Cedar Point (an amusement park in Sandusky, Ohio) and felt like teenagers again. There was no way I could pass up a little PDA while waiting in line. LOL! We got a few strange looks (especially because we both still LOOK like teenagers), but we really enjoyed ourselves. I'm going to have to workout every day for the rest of my life due to all the junk food I ate, but it was well worth it. My sister kept Yorlee overnight, and while I REALLY missed her, it was nice to be able to sleep in. The next day hubby and I went to the movies, out to eat, and then we went and picked up our princess. I couldn't take it any more, and was nearly in tears during the ride to go get her. Of course she acted like we were never gone. My dear girl, I just adore her!!
Also, I purchased a few new pairs of heels. Mama is going to get her groove back! I tell ya!
Happy Wednesday everyone! :-)
Thank goodness I did!!
She had a raging ear infection, and was diagnosed with croup. We've been trying to keep the air cooler in the house to help her breathe better, as well as taking her for walks at night. She is also on oral steroids and antibiotics. The good news is that she never had a fever, and has been happily playing, so hopefully she is on the mend for good.
Oh, and I realized I never blogged about my weekend with hubby. It was great!! We went to Cedar Point (an amusement park in Sandusky, Ohio) and felt like teenagers again. There was no way I could pass up a little PDA while waiting in line. LOL! We got a few strange looks (especially because we both still LOOK like teenagers), but we really enjoyed ourselves. I'm going to have to workout every day for the rest of my life due to all the junk food I ate, but it was well worth it. My sister kept Yorlee overnight, and while I REALLY missed her, it was nice to be able to sleep in. The next day hubby and I went to the movies, out to eat, and then we went and picked up our princess. I couldn't take it any more, and was nearly in tears during the ride to go get her. Of course she acted like we were never gone. My dear girl, I just adore her!!
Also, I purchased a few new pairs of heels. Mama is going to get her groove back! I tell ya!
Happy Wednesday everyone! :-)
Tuesday, October 11, 2011
So..... I just joined Pinterest. OMG! Why did I wait so long? I'm way over my head here people. I'd love to follow you, please leave your info in the comments. I need ideas! Lord, I've really started something now.....
Another baby!?!
The other day I was cleaning out Yorlee's dresser, taking out all of the clothes that are too small, and replacing items with larger sizes, when I stumbled across one of her newborn onesies. My heart skipped a beat, and I got that warm fuzzy feeling all over. I held it up for a couple minutes, and then folded it back neatly, but I couldn't bring myself to put it in the bag with all of the other items that she outgrew. Because.....
I want another baby.
(No, I'm not pregnant.)
I miss the newborn stage. The soft newborn wrinkles, the tiny lips, that soft cry, tiny diapers. I miss it all.
Are we ready for another bambino? Absolutely not. Do I want to allow Yorlee to take full advantage of being the baby? Absolutely!
We've been toying with the idea, and the verdict is that we will wait until she is a year old to discuss it.
I would love to work out a way that I could stay home if we were to have another baby. The cost of daycare alone, for two children would be over $1000 a month.
Deep down inside, I know that having two children will be difficult. More difficult than I could ever imagine. And I'm not quite sure that I'm ready for that. There are still goals that I would like to accomplish before we extend our family. But the desire remains. My main concern is that my husband and I make the best decision for our family. So if we need to wait for awhile so that we can get things in order, that's what we'll do.
In the meantime, I guess I'll just keep looking at those tiny onesies....
I want another baby.
(No, I'm not pregnant.)
I miss the newborn stage. The soft newborn wrinkles, the tiny lips, that soft cry, tiny diapers. I miss it all.
Are we ready for another bambino? Absolutely not. Do I want to allow Yorlee to take full advantage of being the baby? Absolutely!
We've been toying with the idea, and the verdict is that we will wait until she is a year old to discuss it.
I would love to work out a way that I could stay home if we were to have another baby. The cost of daycare alone, for two children would be over $1000 a month.
Deep down inside, I know that having two children will be difficult. More difficult than I could ever imagine. And I'm not quite sure that I'm ready for that. There are still goals that I would like to accomplish before we extend our family. But the desire remains. My main concern is that my husband and I make the best decision for our family. So if we need to wait for awhile so that we can get things in order, that's what we'll do.
In the meantime, I guess I'll just keep looking at those tiny onesies....
Monday, October 3, 2011
Building up confidence
Thank you ladies for being so understanding on my previous post.
I've decided that I am going to try to rebuild my confidence and body image. Starting tomorrow, I am going to pick out my outfits for the rest of the week, and pair them with cute jewelry and shoes.
Also, I have a hair appointment on Wednesday, so I'll try to get something extra spiffy done. On Monday, Yorlee is going to daycare (hubs and I are off work) and we are going to the SPA, and then lunch, and we will catch a matinee at the movie theatre. I'm going to put on my cutest outfit and enjoy spending time with my husband.
I've been feeling sort of down for the past few days. My temper is kind of short, I think I'm just a little worn out. It isn't anything in particular. Just the hustle and bustle of every day life. I'm so glad that I have a three day weekend coming up. Can you say R&R?
Here's hoping that everyone has a wonderful week! Let me leave you with a picture of my little one:
I've decided that I am going to try to rebuild my confidence and body image. Starting tomorrow, I am going to pick out my outfits for the rest of the week, and pair them with cute jewelry and shoes.
Also, I have a hair appointment on Wednesday, so I'll try to get something extra spiffy done. On Monday, Yorlee is going to daycare (hubs and I are off work) and we are going to the SPA, and then lunch, and we will catch a matinee at the movie theatre. I'm going to put on my cutest outfit and enjoy spending time with my husband.
I've been feeling sort of down for the past few days. My temper is kind of short, I think I'm just a little worn out. It isn't anything in particular. Just the hustle and bustle of every day life. I'm so glad that I have a three day weekend coming up. Can you say R&R?
Here's hoping that everyone has a wonderful week! Let me leave you with a picture of my little one:
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