Dirty thirty

So, here we are.  About to embark on our trip to PA for my dirty thirty birthday little brother's wedding. Its going to be a little crazy, getting all 6 of us there, to the state of PA, getting 3 of us dressed for activities in the wedding, keeping one of us content to not be held by momma all.day.long, trying to not kill the children whilst spending 8 days in a hotel room. (This one is not going well.  I can hear some gnashing of teeth upstairs from E while I type/nurse the baby.)

So, back to the crazy. Not that I expect them to, but I don't really think my brother and his future wife are going to remember that this Saturday also happens to be my birthday.  Not just any birthday, mind you.  Its my 30th. 

I had been dreading it.  I'm not incredibly fond of increasing age. In me or the children.  I'm one of those people who cries at 1st birthday parties and sniffled a lot when I turned 25.  However, there's been a change in me the last few weeks.  I think, mainly due to my weight loss. 

I've gone on weight watchers before.  Once, right after we got married, I lost 25lbs.  Again after having O and A, which I couldn't lose too much with out it affecting my milk supply.  After I weaned A, I worked hard at losing weight and trying to keep it off during fertility treatments.  But, I could never get back down to what I weighed before getting pregnant with O.  After having I, I tried again.  I started running when he was 6 months old.  Before I got pregnant with little Eliza, I got with in 8 lbs of my pre-O weight.  So close, but no cigar. 

Then, Eliza was born.  With a dairy allergy.  I went dairy free in December and lost a decent amount.  Started running again.  Then, I joined Weight Watchers in February.  Since then, I've lost 24.8lbs.  Putting me 3lbs BELOW my pre-O weight.   I think its a combination of not being able to cheat much (because, really, who wants to cheat with chips?  I want cake.  Or chocolate.  or cheese.  Which, because of the whole dairy thing,  I can't have- ever.) making better food choices, (not that I ever made horrible ones.  I just eat a lot of food.  Healthy food, but still TOO MUCH.) and running. 

My weight loss has given me a certain amount of confidence in turning 30 that I didn't have before.  Its sort of amazing to weigh less than I have as I'm turning 30 than I have my ENTIRE ADULT LIFE.  That's kind of awesome opossum. 

Here are some pictures.  Now, my photographer was really great at making me look my best, so they aren't the clearest for comparison.  But, I really don't have any other pictures.  

2 weeks after having Eliza

Me, and the hooligans. 

Now, if there was only a way to un-seperate my abs, we'd be all set.   

A real post is a coming

but until then, I'm late in posting Eliza's monthly picture.

Boo to the shizzle

May is turning out to be a hectic month.  (Though, I'm starting to maybe think just having 4 kids makes *any* month hectic.)  We have our anniversary, Mother's day, MIL's birthday, and my birthday.  Those are just the usual suspects. 

This May, we have additional items to add.  Recital for O's dance, (which includes rehearsal) end of the year school festivities (really.  a tiny rant.  why not allow parents with siblings to come to OUTDOOR activities.  Clearly space is not an issue.  You are guaranteeing we won't be able to come to anything. sigh.)  and, oh, a little trip to PA for my baby brother's wedding. 

So, we've been busy.  Eliza isn't getting her appropriate naps, and I feel terrible.  But, whatcha going to do?  She's #4.  You gotta roll with it, babykins.  Her baby calendar is still on April and hasn't been updated since her 6 month check up at the doctor (shhhh...  don't mention to her that she's going to be 7 months on Friday.  I don't want her to remember and turn 7 months.)  Her scrapbook is still in progress via her birth page.  I haven't gone through her clothes in ages, so sometimes when E goes to put her jammies on (aka: a onesie) sometimes they are entirely too small. But, my children are fed, loved, and mostly clean.  (Save for A.  Who is always dirty. He actually got a shirt completely covered in peanut butter this morning before 6:30am.) 

We've moved A into O's room (moved his mattress to the floor of her room) for two reasons.  1. A has been waking Isaac up at 5:15 every morning. Not.fun.  and 2. The bigger two kids have been fighting so much that we thought we should give them a chance to secretly be disobedient together bond in the evenings after we've put them to bed.  Last night was a success.  I could hear them whispering quietly, telling each other about their days.  It was sweet.  Plus, Isaac slept in until 5:45 (yes.  I said SLEPT IN.) 

There was desperation in this strategic move.  Both numbered problems were really quite uncontrolled.  Especially the fighting.  But, especially the waking up early. (Simpsons anyone?)  In all seriousness, if you saw the 2 older kids together at our house on a daily basis, you'd think they hated each other.  Which, in all fairness, I think is sometimes an accurate assessment.  Its. terrible.  Some one suggested having them say 5 nice things about each other when they start fighting.  Know what my kids did?  Started FIGHTING about WHO GOT TO SAY THE COMPLIMENTS FIRST!  ("that was MY idea!"  "but, I was going to say that!")  So, yeah.  Boo to the shizzle. 

I figured sometimes enemies can become friends when they have a common enemy.  Which would be me.  Or the evil quietness of bedtime.  Either way, it seemed to work well last night.  We'll see how tonight goes.

With that thought, I will end this blog post.  My almost 7 month old 6 month old is awake and gently cooing my name, (which I've changed to "ohhhh. Nananana" to suit this purpose.)

The day I ate donuts

9 years ago,

I got the world's most amazing hug. 

 I bought some tulips. 

 I took some pictures in front of a cherry tree.

I prayed. 

I ate donuts. 

I wore pink high heels.

I had my leg caressed by a man. 

I danced. 

I lit some sparklers. 

I married my best friend.

You think you've got it, oh you think you've got it

(But got it just don't get it till' there's nothing at all)

Planning is good.  Especially when you're planning for a 12hr (probably 16 hr) drive and a 9 day hotel stay for a wedding in a few weeks. 

One of my plans for that trip was to bring Eliza's rock and play sleeper instead of her pack and play. First of all, its SO much easier than a pack and play to set up and take down.  (It folds up with one hand!) Plus, it has that perfect reflux-baby incline.  Which is hard to achieve in the pack and play (or crib for that matter.) 

Plus, Eliza looks so darn sweet in it, no?  Ugh.  That top picture tugs at my heart uterus. I mean, she was still in the count-by-days-old days. *sigh* 

However, babies have this annoying way of changing things up.  Usually at the WORST times, too.  So, to refresh, I was planning on taking this lovely thing to PA for our trip later this month.  She already sleeps in it for naps and bedtime, so there's no "getting used to it", etc. 

Eliza has had this cough that starts at night and lasts well into the wee hours of the morning (usually 2 or so) and wants to wake up a lot and hang out with me.  I usually just grab her swaddle, and put one hand under her head to lift her up into my bed.  However, this time I couldn't find the back of her head to support.  I realized she had ROLLED OVER in the sleeper! 

Okay, okay.  Deep breaths.  This thing has a buckle.  We can just buckle her in and be done with it.  Except, we can't.  Because she's swaddled. 

I attempted yesterday to NOT swaddle her for naps.  Which she quickly protested in the form of not going to sleep.  So, I gave in and swaddled her and off to dream land she went.

So, I'm at a loss.  If I have to work at unswaddling her, I may as well move her to her crib at the same time.  I'm not up for doing separate transitions.  But, then we have to take the pack and play to PA. 

I know.  I know.  These are LIFE ALTERING DECISIONS!  Okay.  Not really.  Its not a big deal in the grand scheme of life.  But, I have trouble making confident decisions on minor things in life.  (Like choosing running shoes. They're shoes.  I can return them.  "But, what if I chose the wrong pair?!?!?")  These are the things I contemplate for days on end, stressing over minor details. 

Give me big decisions- I'm good at those.