Wednesday, February 5, 2014

Fluff for your stuff!

Fluff. That's what I've got for you. A big fat stuff o fluff.

Honestly, since I've segued into school again, life's been a bit circus-like (read: never updating ye olde blog ever-ever), so I'm just trying to keep my head above water long enough to swim back to shore so we can set up camp on the beach like nice little island-strandees. Approximately 1% of that analogy made sense, and the rest did not. YOU get to pick which 1%. Occupy that, sucker!

Aaaaaaanyway. School is rad, and I really really really love to learn. It's lots of fun, and the kids are always happier to see me when I've been out of their line of sight for longer than 7 minutes, which usually never happens except on the longest of 'bathroom breaks'. Also, except Gwace. She screams at me but we all know it's because she missed me, and wants her milk :) I DO miss them when I'm gone, so I'm not sure how that all works out with an actual j-o-b but I've got a few degrees between then and now, so I'ma just worry bout sorting my leukocytes thankyaverymuch. Also: try determining a basophil from neutrophil while colorblind. Just try. Have fun with that.


I've hit that 8-month post-baby stride where I feel like we're getting a 'thing', a legit family 'thing' going where we're not ALL running around like headless chickens; we wake, we eat, we play, we go, we lunch, we nap, we zzzzzz, we make dinner, we eat, mommy and daddy stare blankly and drool, then bed. Well, with more fun and joy and sometimes yelling and all that.
I distinctly remember googling '7 month old schedule' at this stage with Korb, because, while he was old enough to show appreciation and dislike for certain things, he mostly just yelled a lot because he couldn't crawl or get to what he wanted. So we sat, surrounded by pillows, and switched toys, books, and games until he screamed his "I wanna play alone" scream, followed by him happily occupying himself in his exersaucer.
While the above yields very tender memories in hindsight, in the moment, it wore on me because I thrive on routine. I just don't HAVE one. I thought he might like routine too, so I asked Dr Google what he thought, wrote down some schedules, put them on the fridge, then broke them after three days. I think I'm an excellent starter and an awful finisher, but I'd like to change that. It's like dieting (more on that in a mo).
Anyway, we somehow made it to Korb being 3 without any real schedules, but now that Grace has hit that stage, I am yearning for some order to my days. I only know TWO real live people that schedule their kids (I'm looking admirably at you, Leehar and Mashka), and they are two of the calmest, peaceful people I know. I think I'm missing a gene or three there.
So, I've gathered my "things" in the day. I wrote them on paper. IT'S NEARING THE FRIDGE. Scintillating updates to come on that development.

Completely unrelated - Weight Watchers. Weight watchers has been my BFF in the past, and once I get myself in a routine (SEE! SEE!), it's easy to stick to. Like jogging. Or anything else. Anyway, if you know me IRL, you know that when I get pregnant, I get thin. Real thin. You may have even commented "Oh Chels! You look great!" during my pregnancy, to which I will have replied "I'm actually losing weight, and it's stressing me out." Then I stared at you. Then you gave a nervous laugh.
After gaining no weight until 30 weeks, then slamming it all on at the end, I'll have a baby, then promptly lose it all while in the hospital. More rounds of "Oh, you look fantastic! How did you do it? You look great!" To which I will have replied "Thanks, but it's not real." 'Not real?' "Not real. Find me again in 4 months." For some reason, I thin out during pregnancy, lose it all at birth, then gain 30 pounds while breastfeeding. If I don't gain weight while breastfeeding, my milk thins out and my babies get scrawny and yelly. If I try to lose weight while breastfeeding, my milk thins out and my babies get scrawny and yelly. I've been following weight watchers for four days, lost four pounds, and my milk got all thin and watery. Guess who's been yelly?

Gwaaaace.

I just think that's real rude of my babies to do to me. And that's the end of that delightful anecdote. You're welcome!

Love,
The points whisperer.

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