The Big Orange Truck

A sight I am not too thrilled to see. While I am excited for the sugar-white sand beaches of the Emerald Coast, I am going to miss the 'burg something fierce.

The library, all packed up. Yes, I know that technically it is a formal dining room but you don't know me all that well if you think I would actually put a table in there! Books, books, books and more books are far more useful than a formal dining room table. After all, I have a perfectly serviceable dining table in the dining room.

Goodbye, dear office. I spent far too much time in your embrace. And what do I have to show for it? A PhD by golly!

I would sit here at my desk, my feet propped up on the low window sill as I clickety-clacked away on the computer. I could see my neighbor Marie's house from my desk. Marie was the most wonderful neighbor in the world. Good times, good times indeed.

The living room is an official disaster area. I am going to miss those big windows that were perfect for watching the deer creep out of the forest  in the evenings and the blue buntings, American goldfinches, cardinals, chickadees, sparrows, woodpeckers, and sundry other bird that frequented our inadvertent hawk feeders (AKA the bird feeders).

My feelings about this kitchen: meh. To small for more than one person to work in. Electric range.  Gold hardware. Had to store my appliances in the laundry room.  Horrible linoleum flooring. Fluorescent lighting.  Should I go on?

The kitchen at the new place is going to be a dream compared to this. Granite counter tops. Convection oven. HUGE refrigerator. Six-burner gas range with a grill insert. Island. Lots and lots and lots of cupboard space. More than enough room for my vintage cookbook collection.

My empty china cupboard. It usually houses the china from my original parents' marriage. I am conflicted about it.  Sometimes I love it but sometimes...meh. It's Nortake "Misty" pattern and has 14 5-piece place settings with fruit/dessert bowls, gravy boats, serving platters and bowls, hostess set, salt and pepper shakers, creamer and sugar bowl - everything a person could want in a full china set. I keep hauling it around the country and every time I pare down my stuff I can't get rid of it. I guess it must have some meaning in my life. (Note the perfectly serviceable dining room table in that picture).

Uh...where did all of that stuff come from? Not quite sure how I had all of that stuff stashed in the boy's room. 

Manda's old room/plane room/guest room/room where I stash my yarn. (P.S. That bed there on the left? Sooooooooooo comfortable and one of the single best deals I have ever scored. It was a window display bed at a furniture store in Logan. Since it was up in the window always covered by new bedding, they forgot to actually sell it until the manufacturer quit making that style something like three years later. Enter moi!!! I was the first one to come across it after they realized their mistake and I took it home for a FRACTION of retail...it was a savings of $3100. Nice.)

The Food Room. It took three men nearly the entire day to pack this one up. Sorry guys. 

Good bye closet! I shall not miss your narrow ways. That being said, do you realize you are larger than the kitchen at my last place? 

Yes. More bookshelves means more books. Me + books = Happiness.

Can I say how thankful I am not the one packing all of these boxes?  I know we could have done it ourselves and saved some serious $$ but I am so over packing up my own junk and moving it. I think the husband is just as over loading and unloading trucks full of my junk.  

Mommy's Little Helper

 I was upstairs making the bed. Baby girl was quiet. I should have known she was up to something.

She *adores* the dishwasher and is constantly trying to climb into it so she can play with every thing. Most of the time, the Chief Parent in Charge of Wee Ones can keep her out.

This time, I failed. (But look how happy she is!)

I guess I am bit distracted by the fact the movers are coming tomorrow at 8:00 a.m. and I don't have a single thing packed up and ready to go. Most of the things are items we use everyday so it's not like I could have done a lot of prep but still...my brain feels like mush.  I have a list but that list seems to be getting longer every time I walk past it.

It doesn't help that I stayed up last night until 1:00 a.m. bawling big ol' ugly Oprah style tears about something over which I have no control. My head hurts this morning and I feel very fractured. I am trying to pull it together but not having much success. My soul hurts.

I am trying to remember that the shadow of  God's grace covers even this situation and that His plan is always better than mine but I am having a tough go of it this morning.

At least I have her to make me smile, right?

It's Like He's a Real Boy!

Pigs have started to fly! It's mah boy, out riding his bike. With no training wheels and no wrecks. (But naturally, with vast amounts of whining. I can't wait until he outgrows this phase. Please tell me he will outgrow this phase.)

He loves the license plate his Auntie Amanda brought home from San Francisco. He has declared, "I am going to keep it until I am an old man!" He never whines about the license plate or presents from Amanda.

He loves his green shoes. He loves his green anything. If he could wear green from head to toe 24/7 he would be one happy little boy. Maybe that would curb the whining?

I love this punk. Even with his excessive whining. However, I am looking forward to the day when the first words out of his mouth are, "Yes, mom - I CAN do that!"

My True Love Hath My Heart

Dear Mr. Amazing Man -

I love you. I cannot even begin to count all the ways and reasons I love you. I want to shout from the rooftops what an amazing (and make-me-weak-in-my-knees-just-by-looking-at-me) man you are to me.

I love you but perhaps what I love most about you is your courageous heart. 

Few men would have the wherewithal to even take on a task a monumental like dating a girl as mercurial and high spirited as the one you ended up with, much less marrying her.  But here you are years and years later. Still married. Still as ridiculously happy as the day we were married.

As am I.

I am ridiculously happy with you. I cannot imagine making my way through life any other way than at your side.

Much love,

M.

Every Pound Has a Story

I started a new blog. Then I decided I have enough on my plate right now and don't really need another blog to babysit. I made the executive decision to move my first post to that blog to thisa one here. Are you still with me at this point? Good, because sometimes I confuse myself. I figure all eight of my loyal readers won't mind reading about my efforts to get healthy. We all family, right?

So here's the first post from that short-lived and now defunct blog, newly pasted into this one. Enjoy!

_______________________________________________________________

I got on the scale today.  However, the scale isn't a great measurement of health and wellness - sure it provides a number but it isn't the whole picture. It's just another bit of data to add into the mix. What really matters is how my clothes fit and what my blood work shows.

(Stepping off soap box). 

Yeah, yeah, yeah. Whatev'.

I know I shouldn't care as much about what the scale says but lately, I DO. (Sorry darling, wonderful, and amazing Teresa Tapp. You have taught me better but just let me be naughty this one...or twice, OK?)

This morning, the scale told me I have lost exactly 10 lbs since May 29.  

Hallestinkinlujah!!!  

I know much of this has to do with the fact I weaned my little princess completely on that same day. She was well over one year old and I had grown epically weary of GAINING 1/2  - 3/4 lb a week. Yes, you read that right.

I GAIN WEIGHT WHILE NURSING. 

I gain weight even if I am eating ridiculously clean and walking 3 miles a day. My doctors (one VCU Rams internal doc, two Johns Hopkins trained endocrinologists, and one Harvard trained ObGYN) are completely baffled by my body. If you think they are baffled, try being me!!! This has happened with each of my babies. At first I was like, "What the Sam Hill?" and blamed it on my poor behaviors because after all, everyone looses weight when they nurse, right? If I wasn't loosing weight but gaining it, then it must be my fault!!! The next baby I was all, "This AGAIN???? What am I doing wrong?" By the third baby I was like, "Oh yeah. 'Lucky' me. *sigh*" 

With this last one, after much consultation with doctors, blood tests, and other proddings and pokings, they were able to only determine my vitamin D was almost ZERO but everything else was essentially fine. I finally resigned myself that this is just how it is for me. In the words of one of my esteemed endocrinologists, "Melynda, sometimes we doctors just don't have the answers for why something is happening. We just have to help you manage the symptoms." So I have had to accept and embrace my truth:

I get fat when I nurse. 

Managing the symptoms for this little crisis is as simple as eating as well as I can and trying to not get to discouraged. (Meditating on the joyous wonder of baby toes is helpful for that, I have discovered.)

So you lovely lactation specialists and nutritionists can tell me all you want what a great tool nursing is to loose weight. You can tell me all you want that I just need to eat less food, exercise more, and I won't gain weight. You can tell me all you want about how you can't keep weight on and get all skeletal looking when you nurse. Yipee for you! Go right ahead and knock yourselves out. 

It won't make a lick of difference to the 39 pounds I have put on over the course of the past year or so since Princess P. was born, even while eating well and exercising fairly regularly. It won't make a lick of difference to my crazy endocrine system that thinks I need to be all fat and happy to make milk for my baby. You can lecture me all you want as you stand there in your size 2 jeans but my reality is this:

I GAIN WEIGHT WHILE NURSING.

On the upside, I have amazingly healthy babies and I wouldn't trade this weight for one moment of nursing them. 

That being said, can I tell you how excited I am that I have lost TEN POUNDS? 

Smooches  - 

M. 

P.S. Dear Teresa: I started bootcamp this week. I can't wait to post the results in 11 more days! I sure love you, even when I am cursing your name at 5:30 a.m. in the morning.

My Babies Be Fish

Our new place has a pool.  (Not this pool mind you, this is the pool at the condo we stayed at during our house hunting trip.) The Professor was holding his breath under water when he was about nine months old.

The Princess isn't far behind.  She *LOVED* sticking her whole face in the water at the pool and blowing bubbles, much to dad's amazement.  (He's a combat diver so my babies' love of the water comes naturally.)

Did I mention how excited we are about the pool at our new home?

30 Days of Truth ~ Day 13

A band or artist that has gotten you through some tough days. (Write a letter.)

Dear Mr. Rutter:

You don't know me but I know you. 

Your music is the soundtrack of my life. I am perfectly convinced the angels of heaven were singing your music when baby Jesus was born. I am equally convinced that if I ever make it to the pearly gates, I will be met by concourses of angels singing your music. 

When my sister died, you were there.

Where my babies were born, you were there.

At Christmas. At Easter. For all the high holidays, you were there. 

But of all your music, it is your Requiem I cherish most.  It is perhaps one of the most sublime works ever created by the human hand.

Thank you for being you. You make this world a better place.

Much love,

M.

Saving Dinner One Egg at Time

Some days, it is a breakfast for dinner kind of day. Today would be that kind of day.

I keep meaning to get some pictures of our trip to the gulf posted but then I get busy writing or snuggling a baby girl who has FOUR teeth coming in all at the same time or cleaning or cooking dinner or reading (why must I love to read so much!!???) or sorting through stuff to get ready for our move in 20 days.  I thought it was 21, but it turns out the movers will be here on the 28th not the 29th.  But I promise, I will get some pictures of our vacation up sometime this week.

And I promise I haven't forgotten about the 30 Days of Truth thing either. In fact, Mr. Amazing Man won't let me forget about it - he told me he has been enjoying reading what I write. I guess since this blog is primarily for him, that is a good thing. (Love you, husband.) If he is really lucky, I might even finish my next installment of that 30 Days thing sometime this week as well.

But back to the matter at hand. I am busy - almost as busy as I was during that last push before submitting my dissertation.

So tonight, we had breakfast burritos made from the delicious eggs laid by the free ranging ladies over at Drury Farms. The family gobbled them up and I was able to get back to my aforementioned activities rather quickly.

Three cheers for the incredible, edible egg!