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Postpartum woes.

It's been 3 months since giving birth to my second child. 3 months of finally being able to move around and stand without constant pain in my lower stomach. 3 months of hoping that one day, what I thought was gestational diabetes wouldn't actually be Type I and would go away. 5 months since having to begin insulin shots every day. 

I returned to work part-time about 3 weeks ago and multiple customers felt the need to comment on my size and how "that baby sure put the weight on you". Gee, thanks. I hadn't realized that every time I try to put on a pre-pregnancy piece of clothing that I still can't fit into. 

I finally went out to purchase a pair of jeans that actually fit and don't squeeze the mushy muffin top up further or pinch my much larger thighs. My days of low-cut jeans are over.

I just want to get back to the old me, in more ways than one. This one just happens to be my waistline.

Jockey and Rachel Zoe teamed up to make a nice selection of shapewear, Major Must Haves! that I would LOVE to own, . Something to calm all this mushy mess down! I always see different shapewear products in stores, but nothing I have even tried on is COMFORTABLE. I have to lug around two kids anywhere I go. Why do I want to be pulling and tugging at my own clothes and undergarments all day as well?? If I can't win them, I will buy them. Eventually.


Part of writing this post is for an entry for a chance to win a sweepstakes over at Little Miss Momma!

Let me tell ya 'bout my best friend...

The person I have known for almost 16 years.

The person that knows me inside and out, every little detail. 

The first person I call when I need to vent. 

The person that can pretty much finish my thoughts.

The person that never questions me, only listens and offers advice.

She allows me to truly be ME, in every way, shape and form;

Serious, funny, sad, upset, angry, silly, tired and spastic.

She never makes me feel anything other than happy.

She and I have gone extremely long periods without talking but have always found each other again...

and have been able to pick up right where we left off. 

We go through withdrawals if we can't speak on the phone for a week.

We have matching tattoos.

If I hadn't married my husband, I would have married her. 

And, she and I agree, that if (god forbid) anything ever happen with our spouses, that we're just going to marry each other and live happily ever after.

She is Jheri. 

And she is one of the few loves of my life. 

If I could wish one thing for every person in the world, I would wish them to have a best friend and relationship like ours. 

  

I met Jheri in 7th grade, after my family moved and I was forced to leave behind the only friends I had ever known for my short-lived life. I still remember the exact outfit she was wearing when I first noticed her in Mrs. Lemon's English class. Love at first sight, if you will. :)

She and most of the kids she knew had already formed close relationships and had been in school together every year up to this point. I was the rather shy, awkward newcomer, with big goofy tinted glasses and gold braces on my teeth. My once tomboy tough demeanor changed to emotional and backward very quickly.

But, she was one of the first people to say hello and at least make me feel somewhat welcomed. She, as well as a few other people that I still quietly thank, befriended me and took me in.

Fast forward a few years to high school. 

1999-2000

To a whole new outlook on life. 

To growing up a little and not being quite so goofy looking and awkward.

To more new friends and not as much drama from old ones. 

To the first time experiencing the loss of a friend in a car accident.

To football games and bonfires.

To smoking weed for the first time and realizing I didn't want to try anything else.

To passing the driver's exam and becoming a licensed driver.

To parties, older boys, and a whole different type of drama.

To maturing just enough to enter the "real world" and not getting completely squashed first thing.

We've had our ups and downs. She and I can talk for hours and we always end up laughing. She never asks "why?". She knows how to cheer me up or just listen when I need to bitch. She is always sending a card, just to let me know she is thinking of me. Who doesn't love handwritten snail mail?! The only problem with us, is she lives too far away.

I have children and though our adventures would be much different now, we would still hop in the car and take them. Or sit and laugh for hours. Or be in the kitchen cooking and baking. Or just hang out and not even have to say or do anything. 

Because she is my best friend.

Best Chocolate Chip Cookies Ever.

I am serious. BEST. COOKIES. EVER. They're soft, gooey and wonderfully delicious. I would be doing a huge disservice by not sharing this recipe.

• 2 cups all-purpose flour
• 1/2 teaspoon baking soda
• 1/2 teaspoon salt
• 3/4 cup unsalted butter, melted (I usually use salted butter, because I never want to look for unsalted! And I just leave out the teaspoon of salt.)
• 1cup packed brown sugar
• 1/4 cup granulated white sugar
• 1 large egg
• 1½ teaspoons pure vanilla extract
• 1 heaping cup semi-sweet chocolate chips

Preheat oven to 350 degrees.

Sift together flour, baking soda and salt. Set aside.

Beat melted butter and sugars on medium speed with an electric mixer until light and fluffy (about 3 minutes. And try to resist eating the yummy, sugary goodness!).

Butter and sugars, stirred.

On low speed, add the egg and vanilla until combined. Gradually stir in flour mixture just until incorporated. Fold in chocolate chips.

Scoop mounds of dough onto cookie sheet. My wonderful momma introduced me to parchment paper. I ALWAYS use it for cookies. It helps them to not burn and gives them a wonderfully soft but crispy-ish bottom. (As contradicting as that sounds!)

Bake 12-16 minutes, depending on your oven. I bake mine at 14 minutes. Don't over bake!!
Place them on a wire rack to cool. Store in an air-tight container.

To keep stored cookies fresh, add a few slices of bread in with them. You know how cookies get that stale taste after a while. But, I doubt these will last that long. They're THAT good.

Try the recipe. And let me know if you do and how much you love them! :)

xo-mk

Hiding out.

The Olympics have been on all week. I haven't had any interest in the Olympics since I was very young. I haven't had to suffer through watching much, until today. Oh, and while we were out at a restaurant Friday, my husband was engrossed in watching the women's volleyball tournament. That's what a 10 months pregnant woman wants to see. Lovely ladies half naked, running, jumping and playing a sport. I've barely managed to bend over to shave my legs every few days for the last 4 months. Call me crabby.

So, here I am. Sitting on our bed, without the sheets on, (since they are in the wash) resting my very swollen feet and NOT watching or listening to the TV.

Tuesday will mark my 40th week of pregnancy. The last ultrasound put Little Miss at 8lbs 13oz, give or take a pound for margin of error. Holy. Crap. I never received the confirmation call for induction last week so I hope that comes on Monday. This girl needs to come OUT. I can barely move. I can barely breathe. I'm still stuck doing all the normal house work duties because, let's face it, who else will?? It is extremely hard for me to just sit around and do nothing and watch the house become a disaster. It is also hard to, even after almost two years, have to ask to get certain things done. Things that have been done on a daily/weekly basis for a long time.

"If you want it done right, do it yourself".

Words to live by.

Then I can't get upset for things not being done the way I would do them. Just makes life easier tolerable.

 



Countdown

It has been a long 9.5 months.

We're anxiously awaiting Leah Breanne's arrival, and hoping labor will begin on it's own. She seems to be awful comfy in there. With my having diabetes, it's put a lot of strain on my body, so my doctors recommended inducing at 39 weeks. Well, here we are at 39 weeks and I decided against induction...for now. We did go ahead and schedule it for next week, just to give her a little more time to decide to come out on her own, but it doesn't seem like that is going to happen.

My wardrobe consists of my husbands t-shirts and basketball shorts. If I have to go out in public, I usually layer up a couple Forever 21 tanks (that are super comfy, by the way, and perfect to actually cover a 9 month belly!)

38 weeks

Knowing that this is probably going to be our last week as a family of 3 is somewhat bittersweet. I still have tons of emotions about Lucas being an older brother and having two kiddos to care for. I'm anxious about how he is going to react to her, especially when he isn't the one getting ALL of my attention any longer. He usually doesn't pay much mind to other babies he sees out, other than simply saying "baby!".

Whether Leah does decide to come on her own or we follow through with the induction, we have wonderful friends that will watch Lucas for us. They and their sweet daughters have been SUCH a huge help the past few weeks with doctors appointments, since Lucas isn't allowed in there with us.

It's tough being so far away from my family. When you find another good, down-to-earth military family that meshes well with your own, you take care of each other! They then become an extention of your family. And they love spending time with Lucas!

I made a quick little 'Big Brother' tote for him to have at the hospital or when he first meets his little sister. Filled with some goodies, just to make sure he feels special and included.

Lastly, this being his final week as a only child, I want to make sure to spend that extra time with him and have fun. My feet hurt, are twice their normal size and I get tired very easily, but I'm going to try my best to just laugh, dance, play and soak up our time together.

Morning sillies :)

Diabetes

My newest lifeline.

In my first pregnancy, I developed Gestational Diabetes around the end of the 2nd trimester. I was very unfamiliar with diabetes in general and even though my late father had Type II most of his adult life, I was very ignorant on anything concerning the disease.

As far as I know, it went away after I gave birth. I never actually got checked to make sure, but I continued to check myself with my own monitor and all was normal. Never gave it another thought.

Until I found out I was pregnant with my second child. Even finding out about this pregnancy, I wasn't overly concerned because my first had still been relatively easy. Simply controlled with diet changes. Top that off with the fact that my little man came a few weeks early (and was healthy as can be at 6lbs 4 oz) and I didn't have much to worry about.

If you're a mother and you've gone through this, you know you have a one hour glucose test towards the beginning of pregnancy then another 3 hour test towards the middle. I didn't have my one hour test until about 15 weeks and I failed it miserably with a blood sugar of over 200. Dang. Doctor said that since it was so high that early on in the pregnancy, it could have been pre-existing. Double dang.
However, there is no way to know until after I give birth again. I can only hope and pray that my body just understood that producing insulin while I am pregnant just isn't an option.

I now receive my care at an Army hospital. Very much different from the civilian care I received with my first child. I will go ahead and say that it has NOT been a pleasant experience. That is a whole different story though.

Trying to work and monitor my sugar levels, eat right, care for a child and keep up a home finally worked on my last nerve, so I finally just quit monitoring all together. Mostly because I forgot to take my meter with me on our two week trip to New York a month ago. Bad idea. I ended up in the emergency room in Syracuse with a blood sugar of 670. Yikes!! We were there for my brother-in-law's wedding so there was a ton of stuff going on the entire first week and I was already feeling terrible but thought I could fight through it until we returned home. Finally, on the day of the wedding, my body couldn't take any more. I could barely even walk up stairs. Unable to breathe deeply, heart palpitations, weakness, headache. I was admitted for 5 days while the perinatal unit tried to get my sugar under control. Insulin shots every hour, strict diet of 75 grams of carbohydrates. It was a mess and I felt terrible for taking away from our visit and family. It was a mess.

They were finally able to get me straightened out and I was discharged and we made the 3 day drive home. They had pumped me so full of IV fluids, my hips, legs and feet were 3 times their normal size. Definitely a miserable car ride!

Now that we're home, things are a little better. I am still having issues getting the correct syringes for my body type, thanks to the amazing folks at the Army hospital. They apparently think my 5'6", normally 130-ish pound body can handle a 1/2" needle. Not so much!! I was recently referred to high risk doctors in Savannah, so I can only hope I will receive better care from here on out. This crap of having to see a different doctor every appointment was unbelievably frustrating. I would have to explain every detail of my pregnancy every. single. visit. Is this NOT why patients have files and charts?? Ridiculous.

I am down to giving myself two shots per day, now that my insulin doses are low enough that I can mix two separate kinds in one syringe. Before, it was 4 per day. Ouch! I've been doing it for over a month now and let me tell ya, it doesn't get easier! I still flinch every time I go to stick myself. It's just not natural! I'll say it again...I hope and pray this goes away after our girl is here. I am a fairly healthy person. I am not over weight. I may not exercise as much as I should, but I am still a healthy size for my height. I do NOT want to be stuck with this for the rest of my life. Guess I'll have to take it as it comes though.

Just one of those days.

I am trying to justify paying $90/week for daycare for our son. My husband obviously works full-time. I have cut my hours down to part time because my body simply can't take the 32+ hours per week standing on my feet. "You should sit as often as possible" my doctor says. Yeah right. It's a convenience store, lady. Up, down, up, down, ALL day. It is absolutely pointless to sit when there are only two cashiers and we have to ring out customers as well as keep an entire store clean and stocked. Sit? What is that? If I take the time to sit and eat a bite of food, I get angry customers shouting at me that there should be a manager there, they shouldn't have to wait that long in line, blah blah blah.

And all this for minimum wage. Most of that wage going to pay the sitter $360 per month. Worth it? I think not. But my husband seems to be able to justify it, so I continue at the crappy job.

All this seriously makes me consider opening my home and starting a small daycare with a few kids. Or am I crazy?

Mothers are definitely strong. We take care of almost everything. House work, laundry, dinner, entertaining a toddler, snacks, errands, groceries, occasionally I sneak some sewing time in, baths.
Don't get me wrong, I LOVE my family. However, sometimes I miss the days of only having to worry about myself. I had a full-time job AND a part-time job, for fun money. I could go out when ever I wished. I could sleep when ever I wished. Stop in Starbucks for coffee without having to keep my eye on my toddler. Stop by the grocery store to pick up a few things for dinner that night without having a screaming kid in a cart. I had friends. I didn't have to play single-mom during the weeks of my husband's field exercises.

I know there are Dads out there that do it all, too. Kudos to you! 

I know, I know. I'm a part of a bigger, better picture now. I get that. And most days, I love it. It's only human to reminisce about things. I think a part of me just wishes I had taken the time before becoming a mother and wife to build a career and not be stuck working a minimum wage job. That part of my life, believe me, I know is my own fault. I never took the time to think about the bigger picture back then.

MIA

I miss writing. I miss sewing and crafting (or learning to do so, anyway). I miss being home and having all the time in the world to clean and keep things at least somewhat straightened up. Did I say I wanted to return to work?? Well, I'm regretting that now.

If it were a job I enjoyed, it would be different. There is nothing about my current employment that pleases me, in any way. I deal with many different people, most being rude, obnoxious, crude and just plain distasteful. There are the regulars that come in almost every day and put a smile on my face...and they definitely help on those really bad days, but nothing can make up for constantly being miserable. Not to mention pregnant, hormonal and crabby. I am not likely to bite my tongue these days in response to a rude comment or complaint.

Between being pregnant and working this job, I've lost all motivation to do anything else. My house stays a disaster. My laundry stays piled up. Even if it's clean, it doesn't get put away until I just have no more room and can't stand it any longer. My sewing machine sits on the dining room table, collecting dust until the past few days. Toys stay spread all over the living room, dining room, kitchen...where ever they end up is where they stay. I used to make it a point to clean everything up at night, to at least wake to calmness every morning. I used to make the bed every single day.

I also used to fuss about not having a break from my kid. Never having enough money. Struggling to make a grocery list to last a week on $30.

So many Americans are struggling. I get it. We're not the only ones. However, my husband being Active Duty Army makes me think that things should NOT be as hard as they are for us, without my measly income. Add on top of everything else, the fact that, since January, he has been gone for a total of 2 months, leaving me to do everything alone. Work, raise a toddler, keep up a home, create a human, find another sitter when ours fell through, deal with diabetes and doctors appointments and crappy care from on-post OB/Gyn.

I am getting a major dose of real Military life here. These past few weeks have really gotten to me, emotionally and physically. The thought of deployment terrifies me. If I can't manage to keep it together for a month at a time, how in the hell am I going to survive for a year?? With TWO children. Away from all family and friends.

I know I need to make an effort to make friends here. Why is it so hard for me?? I have Army Wife groups on my Facebook page, but never really get involved with any events. Can't make friends if I don't try though, huh?

I'm going to make it a point to try harder. Weeks like the last few I've had can NOT happen again.