The One About Money

In any relationship where two people share money there is usually a spender and a saver. One person is trying constantly to save money while the other person is trying desperately to spend money. Oddly, in our marriage that role is a merry go round, transferring back and forth from my husband to myself circuitously. The downside to that is we are usually never on the same page, even when we think we are. Although, to our credit, we have definitely gotten better about this.

Side note: Right now the husband and I are desperately trying to save money for a new house. We outgrew our two bedroom home the day the Peanut came home from the hospital. That means we are closely watching our finances as we're putting as much into savings as humanly possible. If we put anymore in there, we're going to be living off of ramen noodles and hot pockets (hello, college days!).

With that being said, given that I'm the person that handles the finances, I'm much more critical of our spending (mine included) than my husband is, since he doesn't really deal with our money and hasn't really ever. I'm what you'd like to call Type A and while I've offered control of the finances before, my husband knows I might have a coronary (and then he'd be forced to be awake with our child in the middle of the night, every night) and so, alas, it is my burden to carry. So this morning when I logged onto our account and saw a number different than I was expecting, I fired off an email to my husband. He forgot to tell me about a bill he paid. 

This is a poor example of one spending, the other saving but if I had known about said bill I would have suggested paying it in parts (before the due date) instead of all at once so the impact wouldn't be as drastic. But that's life. In a couple of months I'm going to be the spender while he wants to be the saver because I want to go visit a friend in Florida. And airfare ain't cheap, folks.

But on a positive note, I read about the wonderful progress a classmate of mine from high school is making from a traumatic brain injury. If you have some time, check out his wife's blog. A moving story for sure. It certainly put my morning into perspective. And, as always, they could use all of the prayers and good thoughts you can give them!

Snow Day-Sort Of

We awoke this morning to slightly more than a dusting of snow. While our friends two hours south got a "snow day" (lucky them!), I spent the morning at home with the Peanut since our daycare was (already going to be) closed. My husband took over this afternoon but at least I was able to take the Peanut out in her first snow.

She was less than amused with the snow suit, presumably because it was a) a bit snug and b)she couldn't chew on her fingers. Come to think of it, I'm not sure she could really move her arms none the less her hands. Oh well, it made for a picture perfect moment. Enjoy!

I Jinxed Myself

Two weeks ago I decided to up the Peanut's solid food intake. She was still getting up between 2 and 3 for a bottle and our pedi told us that after 6 months, nutrition wise, a bottle in the middle of the night is not needed. Two days into our new feeding schedule and the Peanut slept through the night. The entire night. No getting up to replace the pacifier at 12 and no getting up at 3:30 for a bottle. It was glorious. This continued until last Thursday night. The Peanut was up every hour or two. Friday, I dragged into work, coffee in hand, and complained about my lack of sleep the night before. A fluke for sure.

Despite an early wake up time Saturday morning, the Peanut resumed her usual all nighters. In fact, I was bragging about it to my coworkers at lunch just yesterday. Well, I pretty much put an "x" on my forehead the moment I said "yes, she sleeps ALL night!" Last night, the Peanut went to bed at normal time but woke up at 11:30pm sobbing. Not the typical whine that comes with losing the pacifier but a cry that screamed "pick me up Mommy". After 3 or 4 rounds of the ABC's song and a little rocking, she fell back asleep in my arms and I put her back in her crib. The same thing happened at 2:30am and again at 5:30am. Why is the Peanut's sleep so disrupted you may ask? Teeth! Two little white caps have appeared in her mouth and are doing their damnedest to break through causing havoc and chaos in my baby's mouth.

I marched into work this morning, coffee in hand, and told my coworkers not to ask me how she's sleeping anymore. I will NOT jinx myself again. Leaping toward the next phase of infant-hood. Teeth!

These chubby cheeks are going to get a whole lot cuter with two little bottom teeth!

Just a Thursday Night

This was my house last night. It's okay to be a bit jealous.

Daddy and the Peanut playing Madden

The Tuck and the Peanut playing...or maybe it's just the Peanut playing the Tuck thinking "Go to bed already".

Well, Here Goes Something

I gained 35 lbs with my pregnancy. Everyone always laughed and asked "where?" when I would tell them how much I gained. When the Peanut was born, I instantly (like most women) lost about 10 lbs. 6 of which was her and another 4 in water or so (yeah, I'll go with so...).  Fast forward a week post delivery and with the stress of a new baby and nursing, I lost another 10. About that time, everything happened with my mother-in-law and I survived off of chocolate donuts, Mountain Dew, and cafeteria food from the hospital for a solid week. I gained 5 lbs back, which may not seem like a lot but I went from fitting into my pre-pregnancy jeans to...well, not fitting in them. 6 months has elapsed and I'm still fighting with my waistline. While the weight gain isn't atrocious it's still depressing. I see it in the fullness of my face, the clinging of shirts, and the tightness in my jeans. It's downright depressing.

I should preface this by saying I've never had an issue with weight before, ever. I had abs of steel in high school and even in college when most people packed on the freshmen (or sophomore, junior, senior) 15, my weight held steady. For the past 26 years I've been able to eat whatever I please because I have had a kickass metabolism. Hell, my sophomore year of college I survived on Mountain Dews, Hot Pockets, and Dove candy bars and still didn't gain a pound. So the idea of weight loss is a foreign concept to me. I've never really had to exercise will power over the food I should or shouldn't eat and if I didn't have a veggie for a couple days, it wasn't the end of the world. Now... now I'm at a loss.

I'm completely miserable with what I see in the mirror every morning. My rock solid abs have been replaced by a less than solid mid section desperately in need of crunches. It doesn't help that I have a 6 inch scar (from a skin cancer on my abdomen) that spider-ed during the final weeks of my pregnancy that attracts my eye whenever I'm already glaring at a figure that is no more. I hate how my clothes fit but I refuse to buy new ones because I want to get back in the old ones. So today, today I stop moping and start doing.

My New Year's resolution was to lose 10 lbs, to meet the left over weight in the middle, splitting the difference and being okay with that. But honestly, truthfully, I want it all gone. I want my abs back, I want my figure back, I want to feel like me again. So today is a new day. With a cup of water replacing my usual electric green beverage, I'm leaping to the next challenge.  I'm sure to be one grumpy person by 4:30 from the lack of caffeine.

Life

Five years ago, I was fresh out of college and ready to change the world. Not a newbie to the working world, I suited up and headed to my first "big kid" interview. I didn't take that job but instead took the next one. It paid a little more and I liked the environment, the people seemed nice. A half-year into that job I started looking into law schools, I was going to change the world through law. A year into that job, my dream job opened up and I excitedly accepted the position. I KNEW I was going to change the world. I had the motivation and the resources to make it happen. And I did. Still do. I've been fortunate enough to work in a position where I can see the tangible change in people's lives. I've been blessed to be able to turn a desperate situation into one with a light at the end of the tunnel.

I preface this because I had an epiphany Saturday night. One that was maybe sad to realize, in a sense. Five years ago I was ready to work 14 hour days, climb the ladder, spend evenings (not just an hour or two) after work at my favorite bar with coworkers and friends. Fast forward five years to July 2012. My priorities shifted. In a huge way. Don't get me wrong, I'm still ready to fight the fight and continue making a huge difference in people's lives, it's an adrenaline high that I get without jumping out of a plane, but when 4:30 rolls around, I'm walking out of the door to head home to my girl and husband. Maybe I never was a ladder climber per se. A good solider yes, but maybe I never was the commander I thought I was. In 10 years from now, I'll almost certainly be in another position, not because I don't love working here but the longevity of my career rests on my boss who won't do this job forever. The realization of this made me ponder what I will do next. The short and simple of it is I don't know and that's scary for me.

What I do know is after I had this breakdown, which entailed a little more than I'm willing to share at this point, my husband said the best thing to me that he could have possibly said in that moment. "Do what you want, we'll figure it out, you know I will support you 100%."  While I have no immediate plans, it was nice to know the option was there.  It made me reflect and think if I would have handled that situation with as much grace as he did, if the positions were reversed. He is my number one biggest supporter and I am constantly reminded of that. I hope he knows I am his biggest fan and I will make more of an effort to make sure he knows whatever he pursues I'm right there behind him.

Life never ceases to surprise me. I know I've said this before but we have big plans for 2013, I pray 2013 has big plans for us. Leaping to good things, I hope!

6 Month Well Baby

Our 6 month well baby was today and I left there smiling. Our girl is growing wonderfully, still on the small side, but her parents are, yet right on track. She gained 2 lbs 6 oz and has grown two inches since her last visit. We've broken the 10% plain for height and weight wise we're almost at 10%. Developmentally she is right on target if not a little ahead our pediatrician said. We could not have been happier with her progress. She got 3 shots and the flu vaccine while we were there. She was a champ, only crying until I picked her up and cuddled her. We can start more textured foods, mashed up bananas, avocados, regular applesauce and generic formula. I'm pretty pumped about that.

We might start doing a dream feed with her at 11 in the hopes of her not getting up at 2. Our pedi said after 6 months she doesn't necessarily need a bottle in the middle of the night. But we'll see how it goes. If she still needs that night time feed, we'll stick to it.

We have to start baby proofing he said. Outlets need to be plugged, small things that she can pull over/knock off must be picked up. I knew this day was coming sooner or later. I was just hoping later rather than sooner. My girl is getting so big, so fast!

She's been battling a cold the past few days and is having severe PTSD whenever she sees the nose sucker. She starts thrashing her head and crying hysterically. Whew, what a temper that little one is getting. I wonder where she gets that from... She has graciously spread her cold around our house, even though we explained in great detail to her how we didn't want it.

6 months old, 13lbs 11oz, 24 1/2 inches long

 Leaping into her 6 month with the excitement and anticipation of what she will learn next! We are blessed beyond measure to  have this little girl.