Ahem...

*ahem* 

*hangs head in shame*

Mrs. Lovely here - currently still alive, also currently a failure at blogging.  Back soon with updates and a ridiculous amount of pictures. 

For now, its back to enjoying the little things - like real, live Sophie giraffes. 

Mommy Misgivings

It's Monday Tuesday, and we're back from another whirlwind trip around the state. We had a hectic but wonderful weekend, and it got off to a great start when we got to see some good friends who live in Charleston. We all went out to dinner together (including AG) and I found myself in an unfamiliar situation.

I was the Mommy expert.

Ha! So far I've managed to keep AG mostly unharmed (more on the choking incident over the weekend some other time), but I would never go so far as to classify myself as an expert. But there we were, and the Mrs. half of our friends started asking me questions. How did I like motherhood? How had it changed our lives? Was it everything I thought it would be?

That was me a few years ago. As our friends started having children I began to grow more and more curious. I would grill them ask politely what having kids was really like.  How had it changed their lives? Was it worth it?

I came to discover that even after my twenty questions sessions, I still had no idea. At all. I had rarely been around infants, and the Captain never had. I was wrong about so many things. It's so much harder than I thought. And it's so much better than I could ever have imagined.

I now can understand how Mom jeans came to be. You spend your time, and your money, on your children. I never realized I could (mostly happily) pass up a new pair of pumps so that I could afford a tiny pair of patent leathers. Heaven help me, I hope I don't ever get to the fashion abyss that is mom jeans, but I can see how some end up there.

One of my biggest misconceptions was how much time I (thought) I would have. Seriously. I had a good seventy four things on my maternity leave to-do list. None of these were related to the actual said maternal product. They were more along the lines of "organize bathroom cabinets" instead of "provide care to completely helpless new creature". You don't have to look underneath my bathroom sink to know which won that little contest.

The main thing though is that somehow, you manage to figure it all out. I remember, before I had AG, looking at one of my friends with her daughter and thinking how natural she looked, and being a little jealous. I didn't realize that somehow you just become that natural when its your own child. Somehow it all makes sense. Somehow, you figure (most) of it out.  If you don't,  you have your parents and friends, pediatrician, and the all together frightening internet to help sort everything else out.  Who knew?

Seven Months

Happy Seven Months AG!

You are still my sweet little girl. More and more of your personality is starting to come through, and I think you might have a little spice to go with all of the sugar we've seen.   You think everything is wonderful and exciting, except for solid foods. You have tried rice cereal, oatmeal, bananas, apples, sweet potatoes and plums. You didn't like the bananas, and you really didn't like the plums!

Plums

You are turning into a true social butterfly. We have play dates at the park and the zoo, and you charm everyone you meet. You love to ham for the camera, and you grin every time I try to take your picture (which is often!). If you are starting to get a little fussy for any reason, once you notice someone new around you turn on the charm and quickly become happy again.

Your first teeth are starting to come through on the bottom. It went from one, to two, then four very quickly! Once you sat up on your own everything has happened even faster. You started pulling up right after you turned six month and crawling the week after that. No one believed you could crawl yet until I put you on the ground with your Daddy's iPad at the other end of the room!

You weigh 17 lbs and are wearing nine month clothes and size three diapers.  You still don't have much hair, but I can see where its slowly starting to grow on the back of your head.  That's ok with me though - I tell everyone that you are using all of your energy to grow your brain and hair can wait!

Your Daddy and I love you more and more every day, sweet girl.

Love,
Your Mama

Fall

Living in the south, it's very, very easy to forget about seasons. I mean, I see the sweaters packed away in the top of my closet and I notice the coats and jackets squirreled away in the guest room closet, but any weather other than hotter than all hades fades away around March.

I pack up my sweaters and break out my rainbows faster than you can say flip-flop on the first warm day of spring. I've never been a fan of cold weather (so I try to refrain from protesting about weather so hot that my hydrangeas look like they are ready to commit hari-kari two-thirds of the year).

Fall is different though. Fall means football and foliage, pumpkins and apples. It tempts you with brisk evenings combined with warm, sunny days. I used to resist the beauty of fall simply because I knew that fall meant cold, drab winter was right around the corner.

Maybe it's all the years of marital bliss that have changed my mind. The Captain loves fall - he is usually out hiking, camping, and generally enjoying the brisk air while I sit inside and scowl at the leaves that we have to rake. Don't get me wrong - I don't see any camping in my future - but I do feel the urge to go enjoy the beautiful fall leaves, then come home and bake some warm, spiced apple treat. Perhpas motherhood has given me a fresh view on the merits of seasons.  Or maybe I'm just ready to bring my favorite boots down from the closet.  (English Saddle? Yes, please.)

<Insert perfunctory Baby/Fall picture here.>
Seriously though, she was definitely the cutest pumpkin in the patch 

Either way, I find myself actually looking forward to brisk mornings and mild days.  Snuggling on the couch watching UGA salvage the rest of their football season, taking AG to the fair, and enjoying afternoons at the park without feeling the need to bolt to the nearest air conditioned building have all had effect on me.  Who knew you could grow to like seasons? Anyone else feel the same way about their boots?

From Wibbleton to Wobbleton

"From Wibbleton to Wobbleton is fifteen miles..." goes one of the nursery rhymes AG and I learned at Mother Goose story time. You sing this little rhyme and rock back and forth with your wee one in your lap (and then get stuck with that little ditty running through your brain for the rest of the week). If you have your own little one and are familiar with that particular rhyme, I apologize for the inevitable fact that you are stuck humming that now. Fifteen miles.

I have felt like I have been pulled from Wibbleton to Wobbleton repeatedly (again, sorry) for the past few weeks. Here's a quick recap of what we have been up to recently; hopefully some calm will follow all the chaos.

The Captain has been gone even more than usual recently, making for a cranky baby and a very cranky mama. He works long hours during the week, so when he is gone every weekend as well we all get a little burned out. I never knew that when you were a SAHM you would look forward to weekends as much (or more) as when you had a traditional job. I love my weekends now though - having the Captain here to take AG for a few minutes, actually seeing him for longer than our hurried weeknight evenings, and being able to share some of the fun things about having a seven month old together.

"Look Ma, no hands!"

AG is actually teething. I know I had mentioned it previously, but the proof in the form of a tiny little white razor blade in her mouth, along with some new behavior, tells me I had no idea what I was talking about before. My sweet little angel, while still sweet and angelic, does not want to be more than two inches away from me. No more setting her down a few feet away to play so I could work, or pay bills, or clean my house. She has to be touching me at any given time or she is crying. Daddy (and anyone else) is a poor substitute. While I'm flattered to have reached rock star proportions with the infant crowd, I don't notice any riders in my contract about someone to handle the mountain of laundry that is accumulating while AG clings to my leg.

My stepfather was recently diagnosed with a serious illness that required almost immediate surgery. For his privacy, I won't go into details, but due to a lengthy hospital stay I am now playing hostess to he and my mother's Pomeranian. This little dog is ridiculously demanding; he has never been to a boarding kennel and came with a set of instructions longer than I would send with AG. However, I'm really worried for my stepfather (and my mother) and am happy to do what I can. That's what family is for, and I know they would do the same for me.

Due to some circumstances at my former job, I have been working more hours the past few weeks. I am also short a babysitter while my mom takes care of my stepfather. I'm grateful for the flexibility that my former job allows me, but add that to everything else in my life and I'm feeling a little more than overwhelmed.

This weekend we helped host an oyster roast/graduation party. The good news is that I am just did the cooking and it wasn't at my house. I also tried out some amazing recipes that I will share later this week.  We also hosted a birthday dinner on Sunday, this one was at my house and I still got to cook.  Ack. I'm getting tired just writing this all down. Hopefully we can get through the next few weeks and manage to find some downtime before the holidays creep up on us. I'm thinking for Christmas this year everyone gets a framed picture of AG.

Shredding

Well, I think my post about the leftover baby weight, combined with the fact that it was chilly enough a few weeks ago require me to put on pants, was enough to spur me to action. (Note: I have not been going around town in only a shirt. I just very much prefer sundresses, and many happen to be more forgiving to my post baby body than a pair of jeans. I also do not believe that you can simply throw a belt around a shirt and call it a "dress". Not even if you are twenty.) I started doing Jillian Michael's Thirty Day Shred a few weeks ago and so far it's kicking my butt. (ok, so for those of you that have done it before - when you have to do the series of "butt kicks" how much does it annoy you when she says that you are "literally kicking yourself in the butt"?). Seriously not a huge Jillian fan, but I will have to say that her workouts have been effective so far. They are advertised as twenty minutes, but with warmup and cool down it's closer to thirty. I'm not complaining, they are quick enough that I have been able to squeee in a workout most days.

I started this little masochistic endeavor three weeks ago and have lost four pounds. I started out doing it every day for the first ten days. Since my life has gotten a little more hectic (ever tried to work out with a baby attached to your ankle? Literally?) I have only been able to do it a few times a week, but I'm still very pleased with the results. I have made only minor tweaks to my diet so I have to say it's all do to the workout. Tweaks like "no thank you, I shouldn't have a third second cookie". More than the weight loss, I can tell a difference in the way my body looks and how my clothes fit, and to me that's almost more important than the scale. I'm happy with my progress and I have slowly been trying to get re-aquainted with some old friends in my closet. Perhaps when I reach my goal I can introduce them to some new friends. J Crew has been taunting me with catalogs recently, and I have to admit I've missed them.

Perfection

For some reason in my life, when it rains, it pours. I have a lot going on with family and friends right now and I have been stressed and far too busy recently.

I try very hard to be the "best" I can for everyone in my life. It seems sometimes that the harder I try to juggle everything and be perfect, the more I stumble.

For instance, a close friend just lost her mother. I rushed home from working this afternoon to bake her a pound cake - poor AG had been with me at work and was tired and cranky. She was fussy and just wanted to be cuddled, but I put her in her swing so I could make the cake. Once I got it in the oven, I went to tend to her - she is now napping on my lap peacefully. I had a moment of panic though when I realized the recipe called for 1/2 cup of butter - which is one stick, not two. That's right, I doubled the butter in the recipe. While that may make Paula Deen happy, I doubt it's going to do my pound cake any favors.

The more I try to do, the more the quality of what I'm trying to do goes down. I enjoy blogging. I really do... Writing is therapeutic for me and I really enjoy reading other people's blogs. How am I supposed to encourage anyone to read mine though if I don't post for eleven days? *insert audible sigh here* I still struggle to find a balance to everything in my life. Right now I'm off to deal with a butter logged pound cake. Anyone have Paula Deen's number?

Six months!

In vintage, circa 1981

To my sweet AG,

I can't believe that you are six months old already! I look back and wish that I had been doing these each month - somehow it feels like we just brought you home from the hospital and at the same time its already hard to imagine the early days where we rarely left the house. You go everywhere with me now; we run errands, go visit friends and family, go on play dates and to story time at the library.

You have grown and changed so much already. You just started sitting up on your own, and almost overnight you went from not being able to sit unassisted to pulling yourself up to sit and staying that way! You are so proud of that too - you often wake up in the middle of the night just to sit up. It's almost as if you are making sure you can still do it so you don't forget overnight. Now that you have sitting up mastered, you have started pulling yourself up on everything (and everyone!). I know that you are going to be moving soon too since you already try and scoot across the floor. Time to baby proof!

You are the sweetest, most mellow baby I have ever seen. Everyone is always commenting on how sweet and happy you are. You can go all day without a nap (not for my lack of trying!) and still have that sweet happy smile. You smile at everyone, and your Daddy says that you have never met a stranger. You have almost outgrown your six month clothes. You weigh 16lbs 12oz and are 26 3/4 inches long.

You have brought such happiness to our lives - for only being with us six months, it feels as if you have been with us forever. I love you, my sweet girl.
Love,
Your Mama

Vay-cay-shun

As I mentioned last week, we just got back from a wonderful week at the beach. We decided to go low key this year, despite my longing for London, and "just" go to the beach. We are very fortunate that we live within a few hours of this:


The view from the back porch



Sometimes its easy to take it for granted - we used to go for long weekends all the time, but as our lives and careers got more hectic, it got down to a few times a year .

We had a blast, once we got there. Two adults + one infant + one large dog = way more crap that I anticipated. Did I mention that we were towing a boat too? I really wish I had a picture, but by the time we finally managed to get on the road we were all so frustrated that I wasn't slowing down long enough to snap a picture.

It was worth it though. We went to the beach every day (short visits with lots of sunscreen and hats).

AG discovered her big brother (and vice versa).

We took a day trip to Beaufort, SC and AG sat in her very first highchair.  Note the Captain taking a picture with his cell phone, because we needed pictures of the momentous occasion from every angle.

We explored alternative means of transportation.

Most of all we just enjoyed spending time together and relaxing.  Even if she won't remember it, the 1,412 pictures we took of our first family vacation will be there.

Enjoying a sunset

A Weight-y Issue

Most women I know would rather tell you their bank balance than what the what their bathroom scale reads. (Who wants to see my checkbook? 'Cause that number on the scale is not going to be written down for all eternity to read.) Yeah.  I have struggled with my weight off and on my entire life. I've never been officially "overweight" (ok, maybe once, shortly, but that's a story for another day) but I have definitely had times that I have been less than comfortable with that number on the scale. Now is one of them.

I haven't been one of those women who magically lost all of their baby weight before they left the hospital (who are these women?! Wait, don't tell me. I might try and eat their cookies.). AG is now six months old and I still have eight pounds to go to hit pre-pregnancy weight, and they don't seem to be budging. I'm 5'4 - that's a lot for me. Once I lose that I have five more to go until I'm back to where I want to be. You see, even though my plan (ha!) was to be at my lowest weight/best shape when I got pregnant, it didn't happen. I'd put on five or so pounds of the "happy weight". For me, the expression fat and happy is more than an expression. It's more a motto for my thighs. Whenever I am the happiest in life I always eat more; conversely stress makes me lose weight. I love to cook and cooking makes me happy..So if I'm skinny, you better ask me what's wrong. I was happy and content that we were starting to plan for a baby. Hello eclair, goodbye elleptical. And so I find myself with 10-15 pounds to lose, four outfits I can wear, and fall right ahead of us. I flatly refuse to buy any more clothes when I have a closet full of clothes that I can't fit into. (I will however shop because there are pretty things in J Crew again. Finally.  We were on a break but they seem to have come to their senses.) I just have to find the motivation to do something about the extra weight so I can shop for sizes that I like.

Excuse Me...

I spent last week here -

So please forgive me while I get back into the swing of things...

Accomplishments

This week, Baby Lovely (who also goes by the nom de plume A.G.) will be six months old. Later this week I'll do another post with more about that, but this one is about how in the last six months I have achieved what, to me, is one of the biggest accomplishments of my life.

For the past six months (well, 15 if you count the time she was incubating) I have been able to provide her with all of her nutrition. I have successfully breastfed my child for six months, and I'm ridiculously proud of this fact. When she was born I thought I could be proud of myself for having an unmedicated birth, like I had hoped. I have learned that a few hours of labor are nothing compared to the trials of breastfeeding. For something that is so natural, there were a lot of times when it seemed downright impossible. I'm proud that I made this decision and have been able to do it this long. I'm proud that I fought through a battle with mastitis that was most likely the sickest I have ever been. I'm proud that on days when I was nursing my daughter in the back of the car while everyone I was with was eating lunch or being social, I stuck with it, even though it might have been easier to make a bottle and be with my friends.

I know breastfeeding isn't for everyone. I know that a lot of people try, and aren't successful. I realize that a lot of people have to overcome a lot more obstacles than I have. There have been a lot of things I have tried to do, and failed. (Anyone ever see me attempt to to swim? Or remember my desire to run a 10K? About that...) I know that this can be a very controversial subject, but this isn't about controversy. I firmly believe the best mothers are happy mothers, and doing something that makes you miserable, whether because you don't want to be doing it or you aren't able to because of physical limitations, isn't worth it. You know what though? That doesn't make me any less proud of what I have accomplished, because to me, this may be my greatest accomplishment yet.

Consideration

I spent the weekend in one of my favorite places in the world, Charleston, SC. We were having a great day, Baby Lovely and I had spent some mother-daughter time walking around downtown and shopping. When we returned back to our car, we found a whole different situations though.

Seriously?

To anyone who has ever been to Charleston, you most likely know that the parking situation can be a little..tricky. There is a parking lot that I always use whenever I'm in town - we call it the "secret parking lot". It's an unassuming little stretch of spaces tucked behind a building off of King Street, and I can almost always find a spot. The only drawback is that the spaces can be narrow, but as long as you are somewhat conscientious of how you park, it's not usually a problem. I, however, returned to find the above (my car is on the right). The Prius next to me was so far over the line that not only could I not load the baby into the car, I couldn't even open either of the doors on the driver's side. To anyone who has ever loaded a baby and a stroller into a car you know my dilemma. The other side was so tight I couldn't open the back passenger side door to get to the car seat. I had no idea what to do - I finally stopped a very nice family with a baby and asked if they would watch BL long enough for me to move the car. I moved her stroller to a safe area away from the cars (where I could also watch the kind people who were watching her - they seemed nice, but you never know anymore.) I squeezed into the front passenger side and climbed across, backed out far enough to open the doors and got BL safely in her car seat. I somehow resisted the urge to do anything violent to the other car. The worst part is that the Prius was parked in an END SPOT! They had plenty of room on the other side, but they just didn't take enough time to even think about anyone else. How selfish is that??? I don't know why I let stuff like this bother me so much, but it just seems so inconsiderate and rude. Otherwise, we had a great time and enjoyed perfect late summer weather.  How was your weekend?

Sleep like a Baby

I believe the phrase "Sleep like a baby" may be the most incorrectly used string of words in the English language. Either that, or someone forgot to tell my baby about this policy that encourages long periods of rest among the infant set. As I mentioned, one of the most popular questions I get asked is "Is she sleeping through the night?". I'm not sure why this particular question is so popular; either misery loves company is truer than I thought or people just enjoy using it as an opportunity to brag about how their child began sleeping through the night at two weeks old (and takes three, two hour naps daily and makes diapers full of rainbows, no doubt.)

Life is cruel; towards the end of my pregnancy I was so exhausted but I couldn't sleep most nights - between the frequent trips to the bathroom and the giant, almost comically large belly, a good nights sleep was rare. Then when I traded those in for the infant, those nights pretty much disappeared completely. I have noticed a few things though - when Baby Lovely naps, she sleeps better at night, and the earlier she goes to bed the longer stretch she will sleep at night. While both of those facts seem counter-intuitive, they definitely work to get a few more hours of sleep.

For some reason she HATES to nap, though. She fights it every time. I finally came to the conclusion that I needed a little help, so I checked out Elizabeth Pantley's The No-Cry Sleep Solution. I'm currently in the process of reading it, but I'll let you know if it makes a difference. I have several friends who use the "cry it out" method or a modified version, but I personally haven't been able to. For one thing, I just don't think I have the stomach for it.  Baby cries do me in. I also don't know if it would work for us - on the few occasions where BL has had to cry for any length of time when I couldn't immediately get to her, her screams would escalate to the point that she would make herself sick. (Specifically a thirty minute car ride home from my dad's house one night. I even stopped ten minutes in because I was afraid something was wrong with her. I don't know which one of us it was more traumatic for.) Until I finish the book I'm just going to continue to encourage long naps and enjoy the time I do get to watch her sleeping peacefully.

My sweet girl as a newborn, sleeping like a baby

Calling Cards

In my grumble grumble more than I'd like to admit years as an adult I have never had actual business cards. I have had several positions in the "real" world that would necessitate them, but for some reason or another I never managed to actually have proper business cards printed with my name, fancy (sounding) title, and other pertinent info on it. So now in my new mommy life I certainly don't have that opportunity...or so I thought. I recently saw on another blog where Minted was offering 25 free(!) mommy cards (just pay shipping) and I couldn't resist. There is something so old fashioned and traditional about calling cards, and so modern about casually handing them out over sippy cups or gin and tonics chardonnay.

Picture from http://www.minted.com/

These are now on their way to the Lovely household. I'm ridiculously excited. After the Captain mocked me a little for lusting after the cards he finally came around when I explained to him how useful they could be. For instance, I'm still involved in several social organizations where business cards are needed; they are great for using when you meet new people and want to set up play dates and don't want to dig through your purse for a pen and scrap of paper; plus, they're really pretty (and did I mention free?). He couldn't argue with free. I'm also the kid who loved school supplies and organizing my back pack so I think a large part of my inner dork was involved in this purchase. Regardless, I can't wait for them to get here and have the opportunity to ambush another mom at story time and nonchalantly hand her one of these.

Picture from http://www.minted.com/

Breaks, or Mommy Guilt, Chapter 1

This is not the post I had intended to write today, or this week, or really ever.  In fact if you've noticed there has been an absence of posts for a week.  Part of the reason for my spotty posting is what I need to get off of my chest.  It is what has been in my head for the past few weeks and I thought maybe the best thing was to write it down, and maybe it would help me work through it.  I need a break.  Oh, dear merciful heaven, do I need one. 

I love my daughter more than I ever thought possible.  The moment the hospital staff put her into my arms, I was overcome with a depth and type of love I could never have imagined and cannot even begin to properly explain. I would do absolutely anything for her.  I cannot stand to be away from her for any length of time, but I am going to have to learn to occasionally for my own mental health.  The few hours that I work outside of our house each week I rush through so that I can get home to Baby Lovely.  The Captain and I have been on exactly two "date nights" since we became a family of three a little over five months ago - one was an anniversary dinner that we rushed through and the other was a movie (sans dinner). 

I had a fairly stressful job pre-mommyhood.  So when we decided that I would stay at home, for some reason I thought it would be an opportunity for me to de-stress and perhaps become a little less tightly wound. (Mothers, stop laughing.) I had a long list of all of the projects I would get done around the house.  Right now I'm just lucky we all have clean clothes to wear and nothing is growing in my sink.  Don't get me wrong - the rewards of sweet baby grins and coos beat a paycheck every day of the week for me.  What I had neglected to realize though is that when I left work most days I did just that - left it.  So far Baby Lovely doesn't come with that option (minus my overwhelming fear I'm going to leave her somewhere by accident.).

I am exhausted and burned out and I feel ridiculously guilty. I can't make everything balance and I am petrified to let anyone down or ask for help. I have been so tremendously blessed with a wonderful, sweet little girl that I  feel guilty for feeling overwhelmed.  She's just one baby, for heaven's sake.  I know that this stage will pass - I know that B.L. is growing up and growing more independent every day.  I know she won't require as much from me forever and I want to cherish every second.  I also know that like this I am not the woman I want to be though.  I'm going to have to ask for help.  I'm going to have to start going on dates with my husband again (this is not nearly as awful as it sounds.)  I have to remember that I am an individual and a wife and not simply a mommy.  I resolve to go on at least one date a month with my husband and have at least two hours a week just to myself - and hopefully find myself again somewhere in there.  Wish me luck.

Mommy Mondays, Part I

Babies come with a lot of accessories. As someone who has long enjoyed shopping, I thought this would be a fun (albeit expensive) endeavor. As a first time mom, I literally had no idea what I would need. We have several different large, chain, baby-focused stores here, as well as some wonderful, locally owned boutiques. I spent hours wandering aimlessly through all of them (as well as countless hours on the interwebs) and still had no idea what I truly needed. All of the stores were more than happy to instruct me, but I had serious doubts about how much of it would actually be useful. (The bottle drying rack that looked like grass? That was pretty tempting though.)

About a month before Baby Lovely arrived I called my mother, panic stricken. "You have to go to Giant Babyworld with me this weekend. I'm not readdyyy", I wailed. I could almost hear her amusement over the telephone, however she humored me and off we went with my American Express and a lengthy list of "must haves". Once we arrived I dragged my poor mother up and down each aisle to get her opinion on all of the items I supposedly could not live without, lest I fail motherhood. About the time we reached the humidifiers (hot air? cold? shaped like an elephant or duck?), my mother looked at me and said "babies are actually pretty simple. They need food, clothes, diapers, and a place to sleep. You'll figure everything else out."
Not wanting to believe her, I limited my purchases that day but ended up going back the following week to get a few more things that I thought I had to have. Do not try to reason with anyone who is 9 months pregnant. Seriously.

You know what happens next - Baby Lovely arrived, and lo and behold, I discovered that we didn't need a bunch of stuff. We needed very little, actually.  I spent hours researching the very best organic, non-toxic, PVC free crib mattresses. You know what happened? She hasn't spent a night in her crib yet.  Yep, we are those people - we co-sleep.  Did I always dream of bringing my baby home and sticking her in my bed? No, otherwise I would have saved all my time and money decorating her nursery.  Does it work for us right now? So far, and there is nothing wrong with that.  Whatever gets all of us the most sleep works for me.  I think we are going to try transitioning Baby Lovely to her room around the six month mark - that will make for several posts I'm sure.



Ignore the bird's nest in the corner.  They had their babies the week we came home from the hospital and I'm too sentimental to take it down. 

 PS - Please ignore the fact that my first Mommy Monday post is on a Tuesday.  I'm still working out the kinks of this blogging thing (and the whole motherhood thing.) 

London Calling

I've been thinking a lot about London recently.  First, because the riots there are currently all over the news. Second, good friends of ours in London just had their first child, a lovely little girl (congrats R&A!).  Third, I simply love London.  My first trip there was four years ago September, then we were fortunate enough to return just two years later.  I think my internal travel clock must think its time to go back. (International travel with an infant? No, thank you.)

First, the riots.  Although I am loathe to say that I am an Anglophile, the term fits.  I love the culture, the landscape, the accents, even the food.  It has been heartbreaking for me to watch such a wonderful old city be destroyed by its residents.  What causes a people to turn on their own Country? I know the political climate here in the U.S. has been strained (at best) recently, but I sincerely hope that we don't get to the same level of unrest and violence London is currently experiencing. 

London is an amazing city.  Just like so many large capital cities, it has its share of museums, art galleries, fabulous restaurants, and celebrities (anyone else watch Crazy About Pippa?). It also has something else - it has that certain je ne sais quoi that makes you want to keep going back.  It's foreign and comfortable at the same time. Romantic, historical, and did I mention the shopping? I'm a bit of a homebody and I love living near my family, but there are days that I would like to pack up and move to a flat in the heart of London or a little cottage in the country.  Until then, I guess it's off to watch Hugh Grant movies and dream.  Mind the gap, please. 

Parenting By Instinct (Alt. Title: Everyone is a Critic)

From the moment you discover you are expecting, your new life begins and you are subject to your first decisions as a parent. There are the early ones: what you eat, drink, and do can greatly affect the little creature you are incubating. Pregnant women are told to avoid a whole plethora of things - sushi, wine, certain cheeses - and encouraged to add prenatal vitamins, extra water and lots of fruit and veggies. Oh how I missed my soft cheeses. Any who...Pregnant women should also expect everything they do and everything that they put in their mouths to be subject to criticism. I ate (mostly) healthy foods when I was expecting Baby Lovely, however I did give in to the occasional fast food craving (and midnight bowl of cereal, or twelve. Ahem.) I remember being at work 38 weeks pregnant, having had a very stressful day, and going through the Wendy's drive-thru for lunch. While I was relishing my frosty and French fries at my desk one of the employees came into my office and commented how that wasn't good for the baby (this man was a good 75 lbs overweight, mind you.) And so it began...once the baby arrived it became much, much worse.

There are so many decisions that you will have to make as a parent, and it seems that literally everyone has an opinion on all of them. Scheduled c-section? Selfish. Natural childbirth? Unnecessary pain. Co-sleeping? Unsafe. Letting your child "cry it out" (or CIO for those in the know)? Cruel. Don't get me started on breastfeeding vs bottles. You don't have to solicit these opinions either. I have had several women ask me where Baby Lovely sleeps and if I breastfeed. This seems like a perfectly reasonable conversation to have with the woman behind me in line at Target, right? Yeah.

As Baby Lovely is our first, we have pretty much been figuring things out as we go. So far this is working for us - we have a healthy, happy baby and occasionally I get more than five hours of sleep. The only thing that all of my parenting decisions have had in common is that I have done what I thought felt right, even if it didn't follow "the book". I'm going to start a series on Mondays on some of these choices and how I arrived at them, whether or not they were on purpose. Let me put up this disclaimer now : these are only things that have worked for us, with Baby Lovely. Every baby is different, just like every parent.  Since no mommy post would be complete without a grinning infant, see below for my adorable, possibly teething spawn. 

No Giraffes were harmed in the taking of this picture

PS - I do have pictures where Baby Lovely is not in her exersaucer, it is just much easier to take pictures while she is contained.  That thing is great.

Lazy Sundays

I had a much longer post that Blogger decided to eat about halfway through...and this has turned out to be one of those lazy weekends where I lack the motivation to do much of anything. Baby Lovely's not so great sleep pattern was worse this weekend (I think she may be teething) and the dog days of summer have left me wanting to curl up on the couch for a nap. I promise to be back tomorrow with something slightly more interesting (or at least with gratuitous baby pictures).

Stranger Danger

Yesterday, while Baby Lovely and I were doing our weekly grocery shopping, the unthinkable happened. Some strange woman came up and tried to touch Baby Lovely's head! A little background : although many pregnant women are subjected to strangers trying to touch them, I managed to make it the entire nine months without any strangers trying to rub my belly.  I told the Captain I just sent out the "Don't touch me vibe" and everyone stayed away.  I don't mean friends and family - I had no problem with them wanting to feel her kick, however I am not a "touchy feely" person and I had no interest in being accosted by strangers. 

Imagine my surprise yesterday when we were in the grocery store and a middle aged woman made a beeline over to me and tried to rub the top of Baby Lovely's head! I carry her in an Ergo front carrier when we run errands so this woman was definitely invading personal space. I tried to sidestep her and stuck a protective Mommy elbow up.  Who does that? Seriously, is it OK to touch other people's babies? If you are over the age of 80 you get a pass (barely), but otherwise it is not OK in my book.  Thoughts?



Baby Lovely grocery shopping (without any strangers trying to touch her adorable bald head).



Lost my (Tea) Mojo

So as all southern women know, you should be able to make good sweet tea by the time you move out of your parents' home.  Being a good cook isn't as necessary as it once was - with all the wonderful delis, bakeries and restaurants available with take-out you can "fake" most recipes and throw together a respectable meal or snacks for a dinner party or get-together.  (Side note: I cannot stand Sandra Lee and Semi-Homemade Cooking.  I don't know why, I love Food Network but I can't take that show.).

Good sweet tea is an art.  You wouldn't think something with three ingredients would be so difficult but there is a perfect ratio of tea, water and sugar and people are very proud of their tea.  Everyone has their own methods and secrets for making sweet iced tea, however I seem to have lost all of mine.  I used to be able to make respectable tea, but no longer.  I have several theories as to how it could have happened : I tried to cut back on caffeine while I was pregnant with Baby Lovely, so I didn't make it as often.  I'm sleep deprived now that she is here so everything is just a little off. Who knows exactly what caused it, but somehow I have lost my tea mojo. 

I went so far as to look up recipes last night (for TEA!) but I still wasn't sucessful.  Don't get me wrong, the pitcher of tea was drinkable, it just wasn't good. I did what most southern girls would do and asked Mom, however she has a history of witholding recipes from me (I think it is her way of ensuring that she is always needed.)  Does anyone have any suggestions or ideas for foolproof sweet tea? Help!

Simple, Summer Supper

It is HOT.  This time of year always makes me dread making supper - the last thing I want to do is be in the kitchen sweating.  I have lots of stand-by meals, but its always fun to add something new to the rotation.  I also like using what is in season - and right now that means tomatoes.  I used a little inspiration from a sandwich I had in Charleston recently and a classic tomato caprese salad and came up with my own version of a caprese sandwich. Sometimes the simplest meals are the best - we just had these for supper and my mouth is watering again just thinking about them. 




Caprese Sandwich

-fresh tomatoes (from your garden or the farmer's market - grocery store 'maters always disappoint)

-ball mozzarella, sliced

-fresh basil

-ciabatta bread (loaf or rolls)

-olive oil (a decent one - leave the cheap stuff for cooking)

-balsamic vinegar
-salt and pepper

Toast the ciabatta bread (sliced horizontally) for five minutes in the oven until just warm.  Slice the tomatoes into several thick slices, then liberally sprinkle both sides with sea salt and freshly ground pepper.  Place some tomatoes, mozzarella, a few basil leaves on each sandwich.  Drizzle olive oil and balsamic vinegar over the tomato, top with the other half of the ciabatta bread, then enjoy!

photo © Johnny Katchoolik
for openphoto.net CC:Attribution-NoDerivs-NonCommercial

Accountability

So far this posting twice a week thing isn't working out so well.  I also completely went against my instincts and told my husband I had started a blog.  So when the Captain mentioned that I hadn't posted anything recently, I hesitantly asked what he meant.  His response? "You haven't posted since the Manolo thing. I check daily."  Ooops.  Without anyone reading I didn't have anyone to be accountable to.  If I have a reader though (even if he does share a bed with me) I guess that is the motivation I need to try and post more often.

That also made me start to think about my new responsibilities and the changes that meant in my personal accountability.  As children, you answer to your parents, teachers, older relatives.  When you become an adult that changes - you have to explain your actions to your spouse, your boss, and sometimes yourself.  As I mentioned the arrival of my daughter changed a lot of my responsibilities. I drastically scaled back my job duties and became a (mostly) stay at home mom. It is a very different sort of feeling.

Getting up and going to work every morning had previously been important to me.  I have been working since I was 15.  In those jobs, I tried to be on time, work hard, and always do my best.  Now some days I don't get out of my yoga pants or even leave the house.  My job now is infinitely more important to me - I am completely responsible for another person. I'm still trying to wrap my head around that.  I have the responsibility of teaching her to read and to count.  I keep her clean and fed and happy.  I will (hopefully) help mold her into the smart, strong, beautiful woman I know she is going to be.  That is a lot of responsibility - but so far it has been my favorite job ever. Thankfully, she doesn't seem to mind the yoga pants.

Her Daddy is going to have to teach her Geography though.  I was always terrible with Geography.

Oh Manolo...

Hi, my name is Mrs. Lovely and I have a shoe problem.  It's actually pretty serious.  When the Captain and I moved into our current home last year, he kindly drove me to The Container Store and bought a me all of the components to have a proper shoe closet so that I wouldn't leave them all over the house I could keep all of my shoes together.  It's such a serious problem that all of my fall coats and jackets are in the closet in Baby Lovely's room instead of in mine to ensure the shoes have enough room.  Fortunately B.L. is still small enough that her clothes are pretty tiny, but I know I will have to find a solution to that soon enough.

Manolo Blahnik pumps (see more leather high heels)

As you can imagine, my addiction can be quite arduous. So when I got an email from Barney's with these sweet, wonderful leather and linen masterpieces I knew I was in trouble.  I have a particular weakness for red pumps.  These screamed classic summer elegance - at 60% off! They even had my size! I had no more wiped the drool from the keyboard while envisioning all the places the shoes and I would go (summer BBQs, Sunday brunching, trips to the shore!) when a certain adorable babe began to wake from her ever-so-brief afternoon nap.  Cue dramatic music.  You see, shortly after the tiniest Lovely entered the world, our lives were completely transformed (as infants seem to be able to do).  I also basically quit my job to be able to stay at home with her - more on that another day.  Since $800 shoes are not able to look up at me with big blue eyes and a toothless, drooling smile - I closed the website. When I went back to visit them the next day they were sold out  -  thankfully before I could change my mind and drop the monthly diaper funds on Italian leather. I can only hope that they went to a good home that will treat them with the love they deserve, while I'm off getting some adorable gummy smiles. 

My Happy Girl

So you want to start a blog...

Welcome! I started this blog last year and never actually did anything with it.  (Ahem.) So eight months later here I am - trying again.  I don't really know what makes a person decide to start blogging, but for me it was several things.  I have found some wonderful stories and people this way and often when I am reading other blogs I find something that I have been looking for - advice, information, entertainment. So here I am, humbly, trying my hand at it.  We'll see how it goes. 
I guess I should introduce myself - I'm Mrs. Lovely.  I have been blessed with a wonderful life with my husband (The Captain) and our beautiful three month old daugher, Baby Lovely. I'm still adjusting to the new mom phase of my life, but so far it has been the most amazing thing I have ever done.  I'm not sure if this is going to turn into a "Mommy Blog", but I'm sure Baby Lovely will have a starring role none the less.  My goal is to blog at least three days a week to start - any advice or words of wisdom to get me started?