How I love my family.

Friday, July 17, 2009


They all look so innocent, don't they? Playing there in the pool, watering the lawn with the leftovers. "Tra la la", they're probably thinking. Well don't be fooled. The people up there in that picture, are the cause of my recent claim of insanity. Them and the cat, who 2 days ago decided to run away (quick Spooky, get out while you still can!) and is probably never coming back. One down. Three to go.

Hold on. Gotta switch out the laundry.

Let me pull and each and every one of them aside for a second, to give you a better idea of what they're capable of.




Miss Eleanore. Miss, I'm almost three years old and I don't have to listen to anyone, Eleanore. Shes the worst. Yesterday, while putting together a package for her new Canadian pen pal, she pushed me past my limits. I could have easily strangled her, but instead- wait, let me back up. Starting over now... ahem. Recently, I've put up with her carelessness, I've put up with her hitting, I've put up with her screaming. I've punished her by putting her in time out, I've sent her to her room with no lunch, I've dragged her in the house kicking and screaming. And just when I thought she was finally getting the point, that I'm the boss, and shes the kid, she gave me a great big shove, into a messy pit of motherhood rage. Responding to a polite request to please pick up her crayons, she screamed no at me. I politely asked her again. She repeated the scream of no, and threw the crayons of which I was speaking of. I calmly (the scary kind of calm) explained to her (for the millionth time) how we pick up after ourselves after we make a mess. I asked her if she understood. She said yes. I asked her, one more time, to please pick up her crayons, and rather than learning and following directions like a good little girl, she looked me directly in the eyes and mimicked the same scary-calm voice that I was using with her, and said "No".

And what happened to that little girl, you wonder? Did she make it out alive? ...Yes. Shes alive alright. Rather than flipping my crazy switch, I kept it cool. I went and grabbed a chair from the dining room, put it in front of the window, and gave her her options. She could a) pick up the *#&@ing crayons, or b) sit in the chair facing the window for the next two days. Sitting in the chair would mean no toys, no movies, no friends, and no fun other than the fun she could provide herself with her over active imagination and the hours in which to use it. She chose option b. And as for the heap of toys that are sitting unplayed with? I'm selling them. Well, not all of them. Some of them I'm going to set aside and wrap up for her baby brothers birthday in December. Yep. I'm really doing that.

Moving on now...


To Charlie. The baby. The 6 month old with a plan to bring down his Mama. How could someone so squishy looking, cause such a ruckus? Oh it comes naturally for him. As you can see, Charlie isn't anywhere near starved. Quite the opposite, actually. Most 6 months old by now, sleep through the night. Their parents lay them down in their cribs at night, and don't hear a peep until the sun comes up. OK maybe they hear a toss and a turn, maybe they have to go in for a midnight soothing, but generally, babies at this age sleep through the night.

Well not my baby. Not Charlie. Charlie seems to think that his body requires food every 2-3 hours. And not just food, but Mommy's food. This doesn't apply to just the daytime hours, its in effect around the clock. So just as we're getting to sleep, finally settling down and drifting off to sleepy land, Charlie makes his needs heard, loud and clear. It starts with a quiet whimper. Christopher goes into his room, tries to soothe him, rocks him, sings to him, cuddles him. The whimper soon turns into a whining. The whining into a cry. The cry into a scream. Everyone in the house is now wide awake, the baby's face is bright red, and I'm leaking milk all over the place like a water bed attacked by an army of poorly made pin cushions. We can only take so much of this, before Charlie, the cute chubby baby that everyone ooh's and aaah's over, gets his way.

During the daytime, he refuses to take his nap. Correction; he refuses to take a nap anywhere other than my arms and lap. I put him down in his bed, and it works for about 10 minutes, until he realizes that hes not in my arms and starts up with the purple faced wailing. In fact, hes currently in the pack n play, behind me as I type this, going off like a freakin' fire alarm at a no smoking prom (haha, what?). And guess who gives in? Me or him? ...Me, obviously. I end up sitting on the couch in the most uncomfortable of positions, while hes fast asleep in my arms. Well not today Mister, you can scream until your lungs explode, I am not picking you up. You are making me crazy!

And lastly...


My husband.

Christopher.

The man that I married (yeah he might look good with his shirt off, but beware).

I've been working out hard, these past couple of weeks. Really hard. Every week I push and push, but my weight loss results have been less than I hoped for. Yesterday I weighed in, after a week of extreme dedication, only to find out that in the past two weeks, I've only lost 1 pound. I'll take what I can get, but, things just weren't adding up. With the way that I've been eating, and the way that I've been going at it physically, somethings gotta give. Well last night, after a 2 mile walk on the track at the gym under 102 degree skies, I sat back and relaxed on the couch to my nightly bowl of stevia sweetened berry sorbet. My reward for working so hard. Every night Christopher makes it for me, and every night I eat a bowl the size of my head. I gobble it up, suck it down, toss it back and absorb the vitamins as if I'd die without it.

Last night as I was going on and on about how good it was, the topic of ingredients came into play. How many calories was I eating, I wondered? Since it was only berries, ice, tofu, and a no calorie sweetener, 300... 400, max? So I ask my loving husband to add it up for me, just for giggles. As hes writing down the components, hes saying them aloud. "One cup frozen strawberries... a half a cup frozen blueberries... a half a cup peanuts"- WAIT, WHAT?! Back up. Did you just say, a HALF A CUP OF PEANUTS?! He was joking. He had to be joking. A half a cup of peanuts was enough to feed a small country, and he wouldn't do that to me. Everyone knows that peanuts, are high in calories and fat. The good kind of fat, but still. And I knew that he knew this, because he had individually packaged bags of nuts to eat while he was at work, and in need of a calorie boost to counteract the ridiculous sweaty days that hes been working around.

Silence. Complete, silence. When it gets silent like that, I know that he isn't kidding. I know that hes serious. The thought of consuming an additional meals worth of calories started sinking into my head, just in time for him to announce the grand total to me. "Do you really want to know?" he asks me.

No. But...

..."950 calories" he spits out.

Now, its common knowledge to me, that if you want to lose a pound a week, you cut out 500 calories a day. I've heard it from several people, doctors, websites, experts, whatever. I've been keeping serious track of my food intake, eating the right amount of the right foods, evenly spaced out throughout the day. Its been a huge pain in my butt. I feel like I'm eating constantly. Either I'm eating, or I'm preparing food. And all while watching my calories, to make sure that I don't fall under, or go over, I've been making sure that my husband, dear Christopher, has been getting more than enough to maintain his needs. I bake him cookies that I can't eat. Cookies that are full of brown sugar and chocolate chips and walnuts. I cook him giant pots of spaghetti that smell so good I could dive in and do laps in the tomato base. I sit in the shadows and eat my dip sized bowl full of protein packed salad, while he eats his delicious home cooked meal followed by home baked cookies. None of this bothered me, it actually made me feel good. I like taking care of my husband. I like taking care of my family. And then I find out that all of my efforts that I've been putting towards myself have been a waste, because of my husbands sabotage?

He claims he didn't know peanuts were high in calories, even though that's what he takes to work to fill up when he needs a calorie boost. He says he didn't do it on purpose, which I partially believe. But the smile that he got on his face when responding to my dramatic reaction, was enough to stop my heart. The last thing I wanted to see on his face, was a smile. He has been overfeeding me 5-600 calories a night, and then smiled about it? No sir, you're not crawling into bed next to this lady tonight. Go find some peanuts to cuddle with.

Ah, my family... how I love my family.

*This ridiculously long moment has been brought to you by Ibuprofen and swear words*

15 comments:

kcroteau July 17, 2009 at 5:21 PM  

oooooo someone's in BIG trouble!

hopefully a lighter-calorie snack at night (without Christopher's lovely assistance) will help you get off the plateau!

goodkarma July 17, 2009 at 5:33 PM  

oh, sweetie, you need a drink. or 5.

(can you drink? are you allergic?)

or you need someone to momnap you for the weekend.

(((hugs)))

Meghan July 17, 2009 at 5:34 PM  

Wow! I have no idea what I would do to him if I were in your position... especially after working as hard as you do!

You can't go back in time, but now you know it wasn't you... don't worry though, you'll reach your goal!

LeaKarts July 17, 2009 at 5:41 PM  

Whoa Mama! I would be SO pissed if I were you. And that sounded like such a delicious snack. At least now that you know, the weight will probably just melt right off ;)

And the kids. I know it. Boy do I know it. But as the mama of a now-9-year-old I can say with a lot of certainty, it gets better! I went back to finish college when Indigo was 6 months old and not sleeping through the night. When I went to the college doc one day for a check up, the poor doctor made the mistake of asking a friendly, "How are you?" To which I answered a wobbly, "F-f-fine," and proceed to spend the next 10 minutes sobbing my brains out in her office. It will get better. I swear it! *hugs*

Amanda July 17, 2009 at 5:43 PM  

another blog i follow recently blogged about getting her baby to sleep through the night & nap well. (not that i know anything about this but) it sounded like good advice to me...

http://littlebitfunky.blogspot.com/

(and at least you know that your workouts really were working! :P)

Giggly July 17, 2009 at 6:08 PM  

Ooooh Tia! I feel for you! Arrg! My kids were/are the same way. Lack of sleep is horrible after 6 Months. It does get better! My 9 year old proves it. She was a strong willed sweetie as well, just like her brother in her foot steps. Max still wakes up in the middle of the night. :-/ He was up every hour to two hours nursing until he was a little over a year! He sleeps better now, but still wakes up at least once screaming in terror for a soy milk bottle.

I just have to keep telling myself, "This isn't forever, this isn't forever." :-)

Max is starting to imitate my scary mom voice too. I don't know whether to laugh or cry.

That's What She Said July 17, 2009 at 7:06 PM  

If I lived where you lived, I'd take you out for a shot of tequila or five. Holy mother of God. I'm sorry sweetie.

jessicajane July 17, 2009 at 10:18 PM  

sounds like someone needs a girls night.

ElegantSnobbery July 17, 2009 at 11:18 PM  

I'm feeling bad right now, because everyone is going "oh honey, you need a drink" and I'm just sitting here laughing my arse off... but really, that devious man of yours... It is kinda funny. But only because it sucks so much. And also because its funny. Maybe that's his way of saying you are perfect just as you are?

And let me just say that Elie and Gracie must have the same personality. I have bagged the girl's room. They are down to about 6 toys because Gracie would rather not have anything, than to have to clean up after herself. What the heck is wrong with these kids???

And seriously, (TMI alert, maybe) I slept topless with Annelie next to me, for the first year of her life, just so she could grab on and eat all night long and leave me the heck alone. I got a GREAT nights sleep every night.

Oh, and before I go, I LOVE Elie's bathing suit.

ElegantSnobbery July 17, 2009 at 11:19 PM  

Sorry, I kind of wrote a novel there... but also, you are always welcome to chuck your kids at me and take a day off. I wouldn't mind in the least!

Lindsay Sledge,  July 19, 2009 at 9:33 AM  

oh I would be so pissed at David if he did that to me...at least you know now that all that hard work on your part has been paying off, and that it was the peanuts that were screwing with you...good luck keep it up, you are looking amazing, not that you didn't before...

Amy July 19, 2009 at 4:43 PM  

Your kids are close in age to my youngest two... please know that you're not alone. Your kids are bad. What you wrote describes pretty perfectly my kids. Simon has begun to start sentences with "Mummy. I. Told. You. To..." when he wants me to do something. Very slow, deliberate and forceful... just like I say to him.

Andrew (just a week or so younger than Charlie) is NO WHERE NEAR sleeping through the night. Six month olds who sleep through the night are the exception, not the rule. Sure you could do some form of sleep training, but I don't agree with those methods until they're over a year.

Tia, I have to say that you are one of the most entertaining bloggers I read. Really. Your writing is just as good -or better- than many of the really popular, well-known bloggers. You are *seriously* funny.

Cassie July 19, 2009 at 5:48 PM  

If it makes you feel better, my daughter is also 3 and I could have sworn that paragraph about your daughter was written about her.

And since when do 6 month olds sleep through the night? Shoot. My oldest wasn't sleeping through the night till she was 9 months old, and my almost 9 month old is NOWHERE near sleeping through the night. I'd say he wakes up 1-3 times to nurse. (He sleeps with me though, so I just roll over and let him eat while I go back to sleep).

I'm happy to see your husband did make it out of the situation alive though, lol

Sweet Olive Press | Helen July 27, 2009 at 11:25 AM  

Oh that ADORABLE lovely squishy boy!!! So wonderful! (I'm sorry about the peanuts, oh wow...)

darin January 8, 2010 at 3:58 PM  

I think you would look waaaaay hot at any weight.

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