It's the first business day of the new year, and I suppose that means it is time to get down to my personal business for 2009 . . .
Losing Weight.
I have done the weight loss thing before-- I even lost over 50 pounds-- but a little thing called, oh, pregnancy fouled up the minus weight and packed on just about everything I lost.
I have lost just about 25 of those pregnancy pounds, and I credit that to breastfeeding and the fact that Gabe's placenta was supposedly the same size as him (Gabe was 8-7, so...).
But "it is time," as they said quite dramatically in The Lion King, to lose the rest and more. And as I sit here post Lean Cuisine lunch thinking about the left over chocolate chip oatmeal cookies in the kitchen, I know this is not going to be an easy journey.
As per my last weight loss success, I am going to be gym-happy. I need the elliptical machine-- actual running never bodes well for a girl with large breasts, and well, right now, with the nursing, I am at my wits end dealing with their giganticness. I fake-did Weight Watchers last time, but I am not sure that is going to be my plan for now. I need to just straight eat well, as in veggies, veggies, veggies. I love the color green otherwise so I should probably start loving it in my food.
My goal? To be in EXCELLENT backpacking shape by June.
What does this mean? I need to lose at least 25 pounds by June.
What is my end goal for 2009? I want to lose at least 40 pounds.
Will I do this? I have to.
Why? For my health. For my sanity. And let's just be honest, For the sake of sexual confidence!
And what is my one solace right now?? That I am not going on this quest alone. If ya'll read TheHeirToBlair, and you probably do, McFatty Mondays have started, and there are lots of post-partum Mommas taking the weight loss plunge and posting the grueling grossity of it all online for the world to read.
THIS WEEK I intend to get to that gym, put my money where my mouth is and join. I need to figure out what I am going to do about sports bras, because I very well may need to wear 7 at once in order NOT to offend other gym go-ers. And the husband and I are going to be stocking the fridge with healthy food.
I shall call this week the 'establishment' week. No weight loss expected, but the serious lifestyle swing is to get going.
So there's my entry to kick my McFat Butt into gear.
Time to shine.
Monday, January 4, 2010
Friday, January 1, 2010
Happy New Year with Erin's Edibles...
Welcome to a new feature on A Mom Writing! Erin's Edibles will be a collection of posts about what? FOOD. And not just any food, but food that is worth the effort of writing about it. So it might be so awful I tell you about it, but more likely, it will be awesome or a time-crunch-easy-to-make blessing.
For now, we'll discuss this little item I decided to make with my Dad in mind, and it's called...
BACON FUDGE
You can go here to read the blog entry that inspired me.
I also used the directions there. As for ingredients, I halved the amounts listed, utilized an 8 x 8 pan, used maple smoked bacon, and sprinkled regular old sugar.
It's different... sort of like a chocolate covered pretzel gone... pig. Or pork belly, if I should be precise. My husband and I keep joking it brings umami to fudge (and if you have seen the later episodes of The Next Iron Chef 's second season on the Food Network, this might amuse you, too.) I guess all in all, I would describe it as savory, rich, and chocolate. Bacon-y, too. Possibly even a party for your taste buds, if they can figure it out.
My recommendation? Give it a try. It's easy to make and a surprising treat for your family and friends to munch and discuss. A perfect addition to any foodie's dessert spread.
For now, we'll discuss this little item I decided to make with my Dad in mind, and it's called...
BACON FUDGE
You can go here to read the blog entry that inspired me.
I also used the directions there. As for ingredients, I halved the amounts listed, utilized an 8 x 8 pan, used maple smoked bacon, and sprinkled regular old sugar.
So this bacon fudge thing was a bit of a curiosity to me, and like the curious cat I am when it comes to food and life itself, I decided to take a culinary adventure and make it. Being the daughter of a bacon-lover, I figured if I hated it, at least Daddy-O would probably like it. Well, he has not tasted it yet (he will on Sunday), but my husband and 
I have.
I have.It's different... sort of like a chocolate covered pretzel gone... pig. Or pork belly, if I should be precise. My husband and I keep joking it brings umami to fudge (and if you have seen the later episodes of The Next Iron Chef 's second season on the Food Network, this might amuse you, too.) I guess all in all, I would describe it as savory, rich, and chocolate. Bacon-y, too. Possibly even a party for your taste buds, if they can figure it out.
My recommendation? Give it a try. It's easy to make and a surprising treat for your family and friends to munch and discuss. A perfect addition to any foodie's dessert spread.
Thursday, December 31, 2009
Product Alert: Collegiate Carseats
Would my husband and I love this if they made a Temple University version? YES.
Britax makes college carseats, according to newmommyreviews.
Britax makes college carseats, according to newmommyreviews.
Wednesday, December 30, 2009
And a one, a two, a one, two... two.
Two months old and a Two months check-up that is.
It went, er, well? How well can a check-up go when you have to watch your precious baby's thighs be injected with 3 shots/5 vaccines. I was THAT mom who teared up and sniffled while the whole thing went down, and my husband, who luckily is off this week, was there to squeeze my arm back to reality to soothe Gabriel.
The babe is sure gaining well, though-- he is 13 lb. 9 oz. now, up from 10 lb. 15 oz. at one month. This is assuring especially because of his reflux issue.
And the reflux issue is a whole other barrel of monkeys. The doctor we saw for his well check-up was not happy with the doctor who met with us last week and offered Gabe the Baby Zantac as a solution for his 'reflux.' This doctor, who I much prefer, wants Gabe to have a chest x-ray of his upper GI tract to confirm his reflux and to eliminate all other possible stomachish problems. I really am happy this whole investigation is thorough, but I have to give my baby barium in a bottle.
Barium in a bottle. Now, if you have been following this blog at all, you know my baby HATES bottles. Tell me how I am supposed to get my baby to drink liquid chalk out of his most-hated thing in the world.
Well, we'll get through it, right? Of course, right.
Other good things? Gabe is meeting his milestones like a champ. Lots of cooing and smiling and attempting to move forward/roll over. (Yeah, he rolled over at 6 weeks-2 days, but we are yet to see this happen again!)
---
In other news....
Gabe LOVES his rainforest playmat (part 1 of the Evenflo triple fun jungle), and he talks to the koala, butterfly, and whatever else he can attempt to whack with his little arms like a crazy fool. He squirms and wriggles his little butt as he kicks his legs and squeaks out lots of random syllable combos and sounds. It is truly awesome watching him learn and blossom and all that. It's just plain fab.
---
Stay tuned for my first entry of "Erin's Edibles." It'll be a fun one, too... an interesting and strange little sweet treat I made to kick it off.
It went, er, well? How well can a check-up go when you have to watch your precious baby's thighs be injected with 3 shots/5 vaccines. I was THAT mom who teared up and sniffled while the whole thing went down, and my husband, who luckily is off this week, was there to squeeze my arm back to reality to soothe Gabriel.
The babe is sure gaining well, though-- he is 13 lb. 9 oz. now, up from 10 lb. 15 oz. at one month. This is assuring especially because of his reflux issue.
And the reflux issue is a whole other barrel of monkeys. The doctor we saw for his well check-up was not happy with the doctor who met with us last week and offered Gabe the Baby Zantac as a solution for his 'reflux.' This doctor, who I much prefer, wants Gabe to have a chest x-ray of his upper GI tract to confirm his reflux and to eliminate all other possible stomachish problems. I really am happy this whole investigation is thorough, but I have to give my baby barium in a bottle.
Barium in a bottle. Now, if you have been following this blog at all, you know my baby HATES bottles. Tell me how I am supposed to get my baby to drink liquid chalk out of his most-hated thing in the world.
Well, we'll get through it, right? Of course, right.
Other good things? Gabe is meeting his milestones like a champ. Lots of cooing and smiling and attempting to move forward/roll over. (Yeah, he rolled over at 6 weeks-2 days, but we are yet to see this happen again!)
---
In other news....
Gabe LOVES his rainforest playmat (part 1 of the Evenflo triple fun jungle), and he talks to the koala, butterfly, and whatever else he can attempt to whack with his little arms like a crazy fool. He squirms and wriggles his little butt as he kicks his legs and squeaks out lots of random syllable combos and sounds. It is truly awesome watching him learn and blossom and all that. It's just plain fab.
---
Stay tuned for my first entry of "Erin's Edibles." It'll be a fun one, too... an interesting and strange little sweet treat I made to kick it off.
Monday, December 28, 2009
Let's just get down to business here, okay?
I wish you all a Merry Christmas. I will say things are beautiful for my little family, but listen, I need to get down to business here.
I need to just come out and say this, and since you have come to a Mommy Blog, you should be prepared to read this. If you are not ready to read this, leave now. Because... I just can't stop thinking about the fact that I cannot avoid this horrible thing...
and it is called snissing.
Yes, I said snissing. This is a combination of sneezing and pissing. And it is gross. And I hate it. And it has been happening since late 3rd trimester. And I thought it would stop by now. But it has not. And I am trying very hard to strengthen things to make that NOT happen. BUT I JUST KEEP DOING IT.
Seriously, I can't laugh, either. I cracked up over Christmas sitting on my parents' chair, and I was afraid I had just flat out pee'd my pants like a sleeping child who has a bladder problem. I expected to get up and look down upon a puddle, and I was ready to waddle over to my Mom and whimper, "Mommy, I pee'd my paaaaaants," with a sigh.
Luckily, I did not do any damage. THANK GOODNESS.
The only thing that saves me when I sniss-- (yes, again, I am using the word "sniss")-- is that my husband laughs when I say the word, and he takes our child into his arms at any point in time with a smile upon the use of this word, even if the said baby is drooling with chunky spit up and is screaming bloody murder. That is to say, this is a scene from our lives yesterday night...
Me: SNEEZE. SIGH. UGHHHH. Hey babe, take the baby. I just snissed.
Husband: SMIRK. Aw, sure. You go do what you need to do. SNICKER. (kiss on the cheek for me and baby.)
Thinking about this now, I realize I should call sniss like the boy who cried wolf whenever I need a shower or want a coffee break. Hell, maybe I could call him home from work sometime on this snissing issue. "Honey, I snissed. Come home so I can change my pants." That'll work, right?
My husband probably thinks I am some gross alien being when I call sniss, but because I say the word sniss, he snickers instead. It's probably a pity-smile-because-I-knocked-you-up-and-half-caused-your-body-to-start-snissing laugh, but at least it is a laugh. And I really need a laugh after the snissing happens because it is getting old, and I want it to stop.
All in all, it's ridiculous, this snissing business. When does it end????
I need to just come out and say this, and since you have come to a Mommy Blog, you should be prepared to read this. If you are not ready to read this, leave now. Because... I just can't stop thinking about the fact that I cannot avoid this horrible thing...
and it is called snissing.
Yes, I said snissing. This is a combination of sneezing and pissing. And it is gross. And I hate it. And it has been happening since late 3rd trimester. And I thought it would stop by now. But it has not. And I am trying very hard to strengthen things to make that NOT happen. BUT I JUST KEEP DOING IT.
Seriously, I can't laugh, either. I cracked up over Christmas sitting on my parents' chair, and I was afraid I had just flat out pee'd my pants like a sleeping child who has a bladder problem. I expected to get up and look down upon a puddle, and I was ready to waddle over to my Mom and whimper, "Mommy, I pee'd my paaaaaants," with a sigh.
Luckily, I did not do any damage. THANK GOODNESS.
The only thing that saves me when I sniss-- (yes, again, I am using the word "sniss")-- is that my husband laughs when I say the word, and he takes our child into his arms at any point in time with a smile upon the use of this word, even if the said baby is drooling with chunky spit up and is screaming bloody murder. That is to say, this is a scene from our lives yesterday night...
Me: SNEEZE. SIGH. UGHHHH. Hey babe, take the baby. I just snissed.
Husband: SMIRK. Aw, sure. You go do what you need to do. SNICKER. (kiss on the cheek for me and baby.)
Thinking about this now, I realize I should call sniss like the boy who cried wolf whenever I need a shower or want a coffee break. Hell, maybe I could call him home from work sometime on this snissing issue. "Honey, I snissed. Come home so I can change my pants." That'll work, right?
My husband probably thinks I am some gross alien being when I call sniss, but because I say the word sniss, he snickers instead. It's probably a pity-smile-because-I-knocked-you-up-and-half-caused-your-body-to-start-snissing laugh, but at least it is a laugh. And I really need a laugh after the snissing happens because it is getting old, and I want it to stop.
All in all, it's ridiculous, this snissing business. When does it end????
Tuesday, December 22, 2009
Reflux in HD
So Goober has had a few rough days. He spent his time over Saturday, Sunday, and Monday crying bloody murder, spitting up copious amounts of congealed disgustingness, waking from sleep with shrieks, not sleeping, looking ashen, and simply seeming way off his usual swagger.
Concerned Mommy? YES. So I called the doc, and fastforward- nothing was found to be wrong with the little fella. Other than the reflux we already knew he had and we were avoiding treating it with meds.
But Goober was too far miserable and off his game to ignore meds anymore, so he is now on 1 ml 2x/day of zantac (ranitidine)... alla baby zantac.
And if he looks ashen again, he will need to be monitored for other issues.
He is still Grouchy McGrouchsterson today, but hopefully he will be feeling better asap.
Concerned Mommy? YES. So I called the doc, and fastforward- nothing was found to be wrong with the little fella. Other than the reflux we already knew he had and we were avoiding treating it with meds.
But Goober was too far miserable and off his game to ignore meds anymore, so he is now on 1 ml 2x/day of zantac (ranitidine)... alla baby zantac.
And if he looks ashen again, he will need to be monitored for other issues.
He is still Grouchy McGrouchsterson today, but hopefully he will be feeling better asap.
Sunday, December 20, 2009
Flashback Photo: December 2008
We were living in Queens just across from the Upper East Side of Manhattan this time last year. So here is a photo of Central Park South last December, the weekend before Christmas. Weirdly, my husband and I had no idea we would have a little baby boy to celebrate with us in December 2009.
It snowed this year, too, interestingly enough.
Note to self:
Do not eat chocolate chip granola bars while nursing baby.
Doing so may result in. . . chocolate chips leaving a stain on baby's skin, creating the appearance of a bruise. This mistaken contusion will freak Mommy out, making her wonder how baby got a bruise-- "baby is treated like gold; any bruise would be a result of something mysteriously medical. This must be bad." Mommy will start to breathe quickly worrying about baby's medical issue.
And then she will gently touch this bruise and realize it partly stains her hand. She will smell this stain and realize it smells particularly yummy. Further examining the situation, Mommy will see a chocolate chip plastered to baby's sleeper and breathe a sigh of release, smile, and murmur a small "Are you kidding me?" at the possibly-ruined baby garb.
Mommy FAIL.
Doing so may result in. . . chocolate chips leaving a stain on baby's skin, creating the appearance of a bruise. This mistaken contusion will freak Mommy out, making her wonder how baby got a bruise-- "baby is treated like gold; any bruise would be a result of something mysteriously medical. This must be bad." Mommy will start to breathe quickly worrying about baby's medical issue.
And then she will gently touch this bruise and realize it partly stains her hand. She will smell this stain and realize it smells particularly yummy. Further examining the situation, Mommy will see a chocolate chip plastered to baby's sleeper and breathe a sigh of release, smile, and murmur a small "Are you kidding me?" at the possibly-ruined baby garb.
Mommy FAIL.
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