Vivi is 4 Months Old

Being the shallow person that I am, I rember uttering this phrase when pregnant with Vivianne, "I just hope that she is going to be pretty." I know there are better things to hope for like good health, a safe birth, 10 fings (as Vin says) and 10 toes...but those were already a given in my mind so I wished for what seemed the most crucial thing in creating a female child...beauty.

It is shocking to me every time I look at Vivi how beautiful she is. It looks as though her eyes are staying blue and when she smiles she lights up the whole room. She has a very sweet and calm temperment and immediately upon turning 3 months old began to sleep through the night.

I can now officially say that after 4 months I have completely fallen in love with her. She is the sunshine, flowers, grass, trees, and the butterflies all rolled into one glowing little child. I am so excited to see how she will grow.

Growing & Changing

Little Vivi is 3 months old now. Vin is getting more charmed by her everyday....as is Daddy!

I had to trap Vin in the crib with her in order to get this picture.

As for Vin's hair...well, it um....ah...Rob and I can't cut hair....and you see Vin HATES the clippers...so voila....nice head!

It's a summer haircut and it will grow back. Some things are better left to the professionals.

I Was Wondering...

Why won't my kid eat the food I serve him...but will eat ANYTHING he finds on the floor?

Is this one of the signs that he is now a member of the Toddler Anti-Obedience Movement?

Pondering My Position

I was in a crabby mood last week. I was feeling exhausted, overwhelmed, and depressed. Rob was working a crazy schedule; getting up at 3 a.m., not coming home for lunch, and getting home for dinner about 6 p.m. each day. The schedule was not as much of an inconvenience as it was a change from the norm. I like change, I do, it just takes me a little to get used to because I have to readjust my routines and overanalyze it to death.

I was tired because I was up with the baby twice a night and then up to say goodbye to Rob. Not to mention the buzzing, buzzing, buzzing. I became overwhelmed and depressed when I realized that the hours between 3 a.m. and 6 p.m. were foreshadowing the many years of my life to come. As a military spouse I will end up being a single parent almost more often than not. I was a single mom for 15 hours a day and only 60 hours of the week and I really felt like I was sucking at it. I don't know what the right things to do are. Do I play with them enough? Do I yell too much? Am I causing permanent damage in any way? Is my personal crisis of self causing me to be selfish and unaware of their needs? And my biggest fear, am I doing and saying things that will cause these tiny people to grow up and be like me?

I was overwhelmed, better said, I overwhelmed myself. I have harsh and unrealistic expectations of myself. I somehow believe that "if I were a good mother" I'd: have a clean house all the time, have the laundry done, be showered and well dressed every day, spend time singing songs and doing art projects to nurturing my children's creativity, be happy and relaxed, feed them nutritious foods so they get all the food groups (how many are there now anyway?), venture out into the world off base in actual Japan and see what there is to see like zoos, fish, beaches, and pineapples. I do not do all of those things, not on a daily basis and some not even on a weekly basis. But really Michelle…who the hell does??? My Mom never did, no one's sane Mom that I've ever heard of did, and none of my Mom friends do…so why do I hold myself to that standard? It is unrealistic and completely ridiculous. Because of some idealistic belief I beat myself up? Why and what for?

We were back on our normal schedule on Fri. When Rob popped in for a pre-lunch visit (he needed to get something) he asked, "So are you feeling better today? You were kind of snippy last night." To which, in typical female fashion I responded with flames spewing from the top of my head, "I WAS NOT SNIPPY, THERE IS NOTHING WRONG WITH ME, WHO DO YOU THINK YOU ARE, AND YO MAMA (for good measure)." My husband, the saint, replied "What can I do to help you?" To which I started crying and scared him to death. I tried to explain to him that he had done nothing wrong and that I did not need help. I told him, "I am just realizing my place in this life and am trying to adjust." I don't know if that phrase even makes sense but it sort of hurt his feelings. We talked a little more, he got unhurt, and I continued to ponder my position.

After he got home from work I escaped to the library for a few minutes and started looking for a book that would tell me what my problem was. I was actually looking for that Brooke Shields book about postpartum depression. I was beginning to hope that PPD was my problem then I could take pills and my life would be perfect. Easy peasy, because the loony pills worked so well for me in my AZ life….anyway I digress, that is another story. I did not find Brooke but found Oprah and Dr. Laura (insert Jessie's eye roll here) instead. I believe it was divine intervention and the power of the universe reaching out to me to say Stop Whining, Start Living which happens to be the title of the Dr. Laura Schlessinger book that I checked out. I also found a little collection of writings by Oprah called "What I Know For Sure." I started reading both books and they are both touching on so many of the same things that it is amazing. So far they talk about personal beliefs, life purpose, hurt feelings, and identifying yourself.

These are all of the things that I want to explore about myself and change. I have been living for a very long time looking backwards and asking why instead of looking back to see what I should have learned from those experiences. These books have started me thinking and given me great jumping off points for my writing. I am very optimistic.

Weighting and Wondering

So here goes a major step on my journey of honesty and self discovery.

I am fat.

I am 5’1” tall and weigh…weight for it…ha ha weight…I’m so funny…180.4 pounds. There.

This is what fat me looks like right this very second. I did not crop out my face so you can see how um, happy, I was to take my own phat photo. Phat photo…hee hee I’m on a roll today! Very biggest looseresque of me don’tca think?


Monday I started Weight Watchers again. I used Weight Watchers about 8 years ago to drop 45 pounds. I used the past 8 years to get divorced, remarried, have 2 babies, and eat my way through most of the northern hemisphere. I had a great time, but alas, I am sick and tired of being a little round girl.

Besides the improved aesthetics of losing weight my reasons are 3 fold:
1. Improve my healthfulness (ie energy, mood, stamina, longevity, etc)
2. Improve my self esteem
3. Concentrate on something that I actually CAN control

So far so good, I have had more than enough points to eat whenever I want and not feel hungry. Plus, a lot of things have changed food wise in the past 8 years. Fat free cheese actually melts and fat free mayo does not taste like weird sweetened gelatinous sludge. They even have 1 point ice cream fudge bars. Woo Hoo!

Here is a picture of my yummy Monday morning breakfast. It consists of a 3 egg white omelet (with spinach, onion, and fat free cheddar cheese) and a whole wheat English muffin with a yogurt fruit spread. It was huge, extremely filling, and only 5 points.

I think about many things when I contemplate my weight.

I remember my Father always giving my Mom a hard time about her weight. He would point out her size, how her clothing fit, and what she was eating. I remember my Mom secretly going through the drive-thru or hiding in the kitchen eating “bad” food just to spite him. My idea of overweight = unacceptable came from that.

I remember growing up that I always had girlfriends who I believed to be prettier and thinner than myself. As if somehow, I’d be thin and pretty by association. In reality, I ended up making myself feel like the fat ugly friend. No one ever pointed out to me that I was either of those things…it was just how I felt…overweight = unattractive, unpopular, unwanted, mostly tolerated.

As an adult I recall a pot luck office party when I worked at Charles Schwab. I remember getting so super excited about the deserts, especially the pie. I told my friend Tami something like “OMG, yeah, hooray, WE HAVE PIE!!” Tami chuckled and said something like “Wow that’s a lot of excitement over pie.” The mental picture of me being a whopping 190+ pounds at the time doing the happy dance over pie is embarrassing. My friend Tami is tall, thin, blonde, and beautiful. She matches my typical friend MO. She is also extremely kindhearted and would never in a million years be cruel. She never intended anything hurtful during the pie incident. It was me hurting myself once again. In my mind it was the tall, thin, beautiful girl laughing down at her stumpy, fat, homely friend because of her over exuberance for baked goods. That day, overweight = humiliating.

On the flipside of that I also have a very profound memory of a conversation I had with my friend Bettina back in the Schwab days. Bettina is also thin, gorgeous, and fashionable. I always admired the way she looked, dressed, spoke, and lived. I remember telling her about how much I hated my body and lack of style. I told her how I longed to be more like her and her fancy Scottsdale friends. When I was done rocking out at my own pity party Bettina looked at me and said, “The things that you don’t like about yourself are all things that can be fixed. Weight can be lost and you can buy surgery or new clothes. Those things are easy to get. But Chelle, what you have cannot be bought. You have an amazing personality and you are smart and hilarious. My fancy friends can never buy that.”

That struck a deep cord with me. I already had something great. I am indeed special. Maybe those fancy people were a tad bit envious of people like me…just as I’d been envious of them. That day planted the seed that I could change what I did not like, overweight = temporary.

It has been a long road and I have tried many times to lose weight for the wrong reasons. I am starting again during a new phase of my life. I am doing it for me this time. It is part of this new journey that I am on. I am sharing it with you because I want to be transparent. I am ready to examine my past, identify the lessons that I missed, and finally lay them to rest.

I am ready to move on.

I Was Wondering...

If I spill a bunch of Cheerios on the floor and some of them roll under the dryer...do I still have to clean them up?

Isn't that what they mean when they say "out of sight, out of mind"??

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