Offensive Clothing: Taking Back My Closet

Every one of my teacher friends just read "Offensive Clothing" and thought of teenagers in skimpy attire breaking dress code.  Teachers - You can't change us, so you might as well join us.

So, I have been frustrated for a while with my closet being full, but "not having anything to wear."  I have hated the chore of picking out what to wear for the day because most items in my closet make me feel frumpy and/or fat.  (Can I tell you how great it is to feel both frumpy and fat at the same time?  That's when I don't leave the house and begin craving ice cream.)

Now, I was always told that your body after a baby could be different.  And, like all good first time moms, I didn't really process that because I knew that I would be different.  Hmmm... Nope.  Still fighting that baby weight and change in body shape.

Which brings me to my closet.

Yesterday morning, it looked like this:

 Most of this I don't wear because 1 of 4 reasons. The items are consider to be...

1.  Offensive Clothing: It doesn't fit.  Everytime I look at my closet, this little voice in my head tells me that I used to be pretty.  I used to be fit and skinny.  Both of these imply that I am no longer pretty, fit, or skinny and that I never will be again.   Clothing items in this cagtegory fit 4 years ago, but not now.  And it hasn't fit for more than 2 years.  So why do I have it? I don't know.  I'm tired of it taunting me, so I tossed it.  When I lose this baby weight (not if), I'll want newer, trendier stuff anyways.  So goodbye, size 10 work pants.  I will see a new pair soon.
2. Worn-Out Clothing:  Those favorite articles that I've worn until they're thread bare.  My co-workers could point them out to you because I wear them every week until the season changes.  (This is partly due to category #1 and all those clothes that don't fit.  I only have a few items left to pick from.)  These items needed to go way just so I would stop turning to them time and time again.
3. Wonky Clothing:  Okay, so it was always a funny fit.  Why didn't I notice in the dressing room that the skirt's liner sticks out from beneath the hem line?  Who wants a shirt that stops right at the muffin top?  Seriously?  What was I thinking in the first place.  (But those ruffle collars sure where cute.  That's probably why I didn't notice the funky hemline on the shirt.)
4. Out-Dated Clothing:  These are items that might come back into style... in 10 years.  But a good friend taught me that if I wore it the first time, I don't need to wear it the second time.  Out they go!  (That includes you, adorable metalic-gold-pinstriped pale tan slacks.  May you grace another office one day.  Just don't let it be mine.)

I will confess that offensive clothing that mocks my current body shape is the reason I began this endeavor of closet cleaning.  That meant this was very much an emotional-mental game to win back my self-confidence.

To be fair, I had to explain this to my husband.  He likes seeing me dressed nice, so he'll make completely innocent statements like, "Are you sure that dress doesn't fit?  It's one of my favorites on you."  At these words, my weight-battling self wants to cry.  Instead, I usually just scowl as I shove the dress hanger back on the rack and call the item dirty names for not fitting anymore.  This time, however, I didn't want to try to make the husband happy at the sacrifice of my own emotional-mental health.  I needed to do this for me.  So I asked him to refrain from these comments.  Bless his wonderful heart, he did.  Husband of the year, that one.  (Even after the comments about my gray hair two days earlier... *Ahem*)

In in about 30 minutes time, I managed to go through everything on a hanger.  I did keep one or two things that I couldn't handle parting with - the outfit I wore when Tim proposed, the outfit I bought after I spilled my drink on my skirt at said proposal (I was overwhelmed, don't judge me), the skirt I bought in Germany and wore on the trip back home.  That's about it, and I tucked them away so that they don't make me feel bad about who I am today.

Anywho, here's the piles of folded items to be donated.  All of this was in my closet and I haven't worn it in years.  This is a problem in America.

All together the above stacks filled two garabage bags.  They're in my truck to be donated either to Goodwill or my school's clothing closet.  (The second is a great place to donate cute and gently used items.   Keep your local school in mind next time you have things to donate!)

And finally, here's the after pic of my closet.  I feel like I can actually move in here now. 

Plus, now that it's done, I don't mind walking into my closet.  It no longer mocks me because I have taken control of it.  (I also have a lot more hangers free to use -- always a blessing when doing laundry.)   I hope that someone else reads this and is inspired to do the same.  Just go to your closet and kick out those clothes that make you feel bad about yourself.  It's what you would tell your best friend to do, so do it!

~Stephanie

Open & Honest - Thank you, Facebook

This is a post for all those new moms and former new moms out there. Thank you for understanding, sisters!

Yesterday I was playing with my profile at www.LoseIt.com.  I've used the app before to track weight loss and exercise.  As part of my new year's resolution, I have been revisiting the app and needed to update my current weight.  Since my last weigh in, I was pregnant and had a baby. Plus, I work full time, own my business, am a wife, a volunteer youth worker, am constantly near exhaustion, somewhat stressed, and still love food.  And for the record, I weighed myself in the middle of the day, after eating, and on the highest water retention day of the month.

So I entered my biggest number to date in a quest for honesty.

Oh, and I forgot to turn off the automatic sharing feature.  Thus, this little jewel appeared on facebook:

I wasn't even aware that it had posted until I got a like and a comment from a sweet friend.  I probably would be hiding in bed and crying from embarrassment if he hadn't said such kind words.  

So, what's a new mom to do?

I decided that I would face the facts.

I think the biggest change for me post baby is the body image.  There is not enough out there to prep us for what happens to our bodies post baby.  I went to the hospital with a giant (but I thought cute) belly.  My abs had never been as awesome as they were at that time.  My stomach was a slab of rock.  There was no fat to be found.

And then I had a baby.

It's a like a balloon deflates.  I remember crying that first week because I was no longer the cute pregnant lady.  Now I was that lady with pregnant-like flab.  Nothing in my closet flattered me or made me feel pretty.  I think so many of us have been there.

In the first few months it was hard to find the time and energy to work out.  If E was sleeping, I wanted to sleep.  I don't remember trying to eat healthy or eating out a lot.   Really, I just remember trying to find the time to cook and eat period.  The funny thing is my infant eats great.  He drinks soy milk (formula, really) and eats fruits, veggies, and oatmeal throughout his four small meals a day.  His diet is lean and he loves it.  More than once I have found a sad humor in feeding him so much healthy food while I am struggling with my own weight and diet.

Even before my blunder of a post, I had decided to make healthier habits for 2013.  Thus the trip to LoseIt.com in order to reinforce those positive habits.  I'm using an app called Waterlogged to track the gallon of water I aim to drink every day.  (Sixty onces is the closest I've been to my 128 ounce goal.)  As a family, we're walking and biking when the weather is nice, changing up our menu to include more veggies and lean meals.  All those things that we do to live healthier lives.  (By the way, I'm using #healthy2013 on twitter to mark our journey.  Feel free to join me!)

In close, I want to say this to my reflection in the mirror:  Even if I have gained 18.4 lbs in the last year and a half, I am not a bad wife, mother, teacher, daughter, or friend.  My journey is different now because my responsibilities are different.  I am still beautiful.  I am still strong.  I will be the healthy woman I believe that I am.  My perseverance is permanent - not the number on the scale.  I am proud of who I am.  I am beautiful!

Sincerely,

An Open and Honest Rookie Mom

Mom-Tasking

Multi-tasking.

I don't think I've ever been anything but a multi-tasker.

However, multi-tasking has transitioned into mom-tasking for me.

"Mom-tasking?" you ask.

Let me explain.

Multi-tasking = doing multiple things at once.

vs.

Mom-tasking = sneaking in time to do what you can't get done.

I live via multi-tasking.  Right now, I'm writing while watching the news.  Dinner is cooking.  Diapers are in the wash.  Tim is playing with E, which means I'm thoroughly distracted.  (Ladies, is there anything sweeter than watching your husband play with his infant??  I didn't think so.)  Multi-tasking is grading papers while I wait for the copy machine to finish running the papers I need for class.

Mom-tasking surprised me.  It arrived out of desperation.  One morning, I was about three weeks over due for a simple at home pedicure.  The kind where you keep the toes trimmed and the polish fresh.  My sable polish was beginning to make my toes look like they had dalmation spots.  Not cool.  Well, Tim was on "dad" duty so I could take a quick shower.  As I headed to the bathroom, I thought to myself, "I have a sec.  I could take off the old polish."  So I did.

But you know what happens if you give a mom clean toes...  she's going to want to repaint them.  So I decided if I showered quickly, I could repaint them when I was done.  Well, then I decided to shave my legs.  (Another luxury that's hard for mom's.)  I was feeling like I might be able to look some what fancy attractive normal for once.  (Another mom phenomenon.)

Well, 40 minutes later, Tim came to see if I feel down the drain.  My "quick" shower turned into spa time and pampering for mom.   My original intention and cover story was a shower.  What did I manage to mom-task?  Shaving and toe nail re-polishing.

And I'm guilty of other forms of mom-tasking.  If I need to wash bottles while dad is soothing the crying baby, I might decide that the counters need cleaned too.   I might volunteer to fold the diapers, so that I can mom-task and watch the last 20 minutes of a movie. 

Mom-tasking.  Anyone else learned this great trick?


Over and out,

Stephanie

P.S.  Here's a cute picture to enjoy!

Learning to hold the bottle all by himself!  Sometimes he does great.  Other times he wants me to feel needed.  ;)

God's Voicemail

I don't know how time works.

Well, I know it passes, and I know we count it in seconds, minutes, hours, days, weeks, years,...  You get the picture.

But I don't know how I can already be the mother of a three month old. (One who just woke from a nap.  Excuse me for a moment.)

Okay, that "moment" was a month ago.  Emmitt is now 4 months old.  And while E has kept me busy for the past month, a lot of other life has been happening too.

I went back to work on August 13th.  As I got ready, I had a conversation with God.  Well, maybe I was really just leaving God a voicemail, because it was one of those "prayers" where I was telling God what I wanted and not really wanting to hear a response that would be contrary to my wishes.  The message went as follows:

"Hey, God!  So, I think I can go back to work today as long as you make sure E has all of those big 'first' moments while he's home with us.  I just don't want to miss out on them.  And I know that you can make that happen.  So thanks for helping me ease back into this!"

For the record, I think God's voicemail was checked by his secretary who forgot to give him the message.  I left for work just before 8 a.m. and by the time I stopped by the house at noon, my mother-in-law was excitedly telling me that E had rolled from his back to his side.  She even had pictures of it on her phone.  I had several thoughts at once.

1. Yay, Emmitt!! You are growing so big!
2. I'm so grateful my MIL can use the camera on her phone to capture the moment for me.  It would have been harder without a pic.
3.  (Imagine me staring at the ceiling with my "teacher" face.) God, I thought we talked about this!!  (By the way, why do we look to the ceiling when we're talking to God???)

So, yeah.  He's sovereign and I was being picky.  God is still good.  Work is still good.  Work has been very good, actually. I just got over my emotional hurdle on day 1.



Until next time,

The Working Rookie Mom

20 Minutes

I have 20 minutes (probably) until E wakes up from his nap.

And I'm excited!

Why?

Because for one, rescuing a sweet baby from a crib is adorable!

And two - I actually think I have the tiniest clue about E's routine!!

New moms, I think you can relate.  For weeks I've felt completely clueless about the baby-side of having a baby.  (Hang with me for a minute.  I know that sounded bonkers.)  I've watched friends and family members do so well at holding him or calming him.  I have one friend who seems to have the "magic touch."  More than once I watched somebody and thought, "I should have known that.  Why didn't I know that??"

That's a lot of pressure, especially when you want to be the best mom ever.

So, I'm happy to say that I'm feeling more confident.  I feel like I know a bit more about why he's crying or when he's sleepy or hungry.

Or both.  Gosh, it can be scary when it's both...

Now, some things I've learned about taking care of my sweet little man:

1)  Always have the burp cloth ready.  Spit up does not believe in an early warning system.  That's for tornadoes, people.

That onesie on my shoulder?  Yeah.  That's standing in as a burp cloth since there were none within reach.

2) My baby boy practices sleep fake-outs.  He's sneaky like that.  You think he's asleep and has been for 20 minutes.  So you go to bed relieved to have successfully swaddled the boy into bliss.  Then he screams or cries or just generally lets you know that he's decided bedtime is for grown-ups.

He can be so determined, can't he?

3)  Following #2 -  At night, I know now that he will sleep eventually.  I don't despair because I know that even if it's in two hours or in two minutes, E will fall asleep.

*No sleep is promised during the day. True that.

4)  Any bad day or fussy moment is made better by his cute little face.

"Are you really taking my picture again?" Yes.  So look happy about it.

Peace out.  I still have ten minutes.

Maybe.

Signed,
Stephanie 

Things That Go Bump in the Night

E is 11 weeks old today!!  I can't believe how quickly time flies.  Or that I will be going back to work in three weeks.  (Quickly changing the subject before I cry...)

At this point, E has discovered his tongue, his voice, and that he can cross his eyes. (And every time he crosses them, I hear my great grandma saying they'll get stuck that way.)  His personality is also starting to emerge.  For example, he loves to smile in the mornings...

...unless he's hungry.  There are lot of things that he doesn't like if he's hungry.

I also feel like I'm starting to pick up on some things as a mom, like E's cues for wanting a nap.  This has been the first week when I feel we have normal or possibly even "scheduled" nap times.  All of this translates to a much less fussy E and a more confident momma.

So, on to the reason for this post:  Things that go bump in the night.

Two nights ago, I heard a noise after being asleep for only 15 minutes or so.  My first groggy thought was that E must have knocked something over in his room... Then I realized that E doesn't knock things over.

That's when I woke up Tim.

"Did you shut the garage door when you took out the trash?" I asked.  Maybe it was just the neighborhood car.  (A horrible idea by the way.  When you move in, I don't want to meet your cat in my backyard.  A wandering cat does not endear you to dog people or people with gardens.  I like your cats at your house well enough.  Just not at mine.)

Tim was still waking up when he answered, "Yeah.  I'm pretty sure."  I guess the look on my face said that I was worried, so he got up to double check.

Then it got creepier.

As Tim was leaving the room, I thought he was using his cell phone as a flashlight.  I saw a glow of light on our bedroom wall.  The light was there for a moment, was gone, then came back again.  Something about the light being from Tim's phone felt wrong to my groggy brain.  It took less than a second for me to realize that the light was coming from outside our windows - Tim didn't have his cell phone with him at all!

I hurried out of bed and followed him to the garage door.  After confirming that the light wasn't possibly from his phone, I decided to call 911.  I had heard a very distinct thumping or knocking noise and then someone was shining a light in our bedroom windows.  These windows are in the backyard, too.  There's no reason for headlights or other sources of light to shine in them.

I've never called 911 before except for a grass fire on the highway.  I will say in my nervous state I was slightly frustrated that the dispatcher couldn't find my address.  (The house has been here for 8 years, people!)  And it did take 10 minutes for someone to arrive (but that could be because no one was actively breaking in at that point.)  For those 10 minutes, we turned on lights and peaked out the blinds.  Tim would have gone outside to check the house, but I refused to let him possibly cross paths with a bad guy.  "Grab your keys and get ready to load up the little guy if we need to get out," is what I demanded.  (My exit strategy was to get out through the garage.  Might not have been the best plan, but it was a plan.)

While we were waiting for the police, Tim tried to figure out why I called the them so quickly when I've never done it before and with such little prompting.  "If it was just the sound," I explained, "I wouldn't have.  If it was just a weird light, I wouldn't have.  It was the two together.  Plus, how many times do I have to hear a weird noise in the house or see a weird light before I decide to call the cops?  When the robbers break in a window?"

Well, we didn't see anything and neither did the police officer who came to check things out.  Not surprising.  If I had been about to rob the place I would have left when all the lights turned on also.  Tim went back to sleep convinced it was nothing and I checked on E no less than 87 times that night.  It left me feeling spooked and paranoid.  (Ironically, I've been praying about fear and paranoia in my life, then I hear sounds and see things in the dark.  Sheesh!)

Yesterday afternoon, though, I unraveled the mystery.  I believe Wilson was trying to break into our house.  This is Wilson:

   
Here's my theory: There are kids who live in the house behind us.  I think their volleyball hit our house, causing the noise.  Then I think they grabbed a flashlight and tried to find it in our yard.  So, that means there was no bad guy.  Does that also mean I am embarrassed that I called the cops? No.  Something hit my house and someone shined a light through my window.  No one ever has the first thought of, "Oh, it's just a volleyball."

Although, that might be my first thought next time.

So, to wrap up the post, here's a picture from my Girls Night last night.  We went to Paint Your Art Out in Edmond.  It was worth the $35 and oh so much fun!

I would show you the picture of the finished product, but my eyes looked weird.

Have a great weekend!

Signed,

Rookie Mom


(See, I told you!)

Life-Sucks Cake

Question 1:  What is wrong with this picture?

And no, it wasn't stolen.

Question 2: Why is the freezer not located inside the garage?

I know you are interested, so read on.  And please be sure to finish the story.  It ends with smiles. And cake!

A week and a half ago Tim and I sat down and recrunched our budget.  We've done this about once a year since we actually started a budget two years ago.  If you're curious, we use what we know about Dave Ramsey's baby steps and the envelope system.  You can find more info here.  We haven't taken a class, but we've used the website and listened to a lot of podcasts.

Now, why did we recrunch the budget?  Well, we've had a little change to our family.  Mr. E's arrival meant that we needed to see where we were sitting before daycare starts next month.

And yes, I am going back to work.  And yes, I would love to stay home but...

A)  I really do love my job.  The paycheck isn't the greatest, but whose is?

...and...

B) I have student loans to pay for.  My standard response to why I'm working is, "Student loans keep you employed."  Or they at least keep you looking for employment.

Any who.  Back to the budget.

So, Tim and I updated our budget.  We weren't easy on ourselves.  For example we - brace yourself - cut cable television.

I know.  Scary, right?

A few days ago we actually had the service cancelled.  I was nervous about it.  I've only known having cable TV.  We have always watched a lot of shows, but I knew I had a problem when I started wanting to record The Real Housewives of New Jersey.  Tim stopped trying to convince me of the merits of cable at that point and agreed to cancel the service in order to save a few dollars each month.

So, Thursday we cut cable.  My life was in a totally new place (all because of TV, I know...) and I wasn't sure what to do with myself.  I normally watch TV while nursing, so it threw me through a loop.  Then E got cranky.  Really cranky.  From 3 pm until 10pm he was not a happy camper.  Then he spit up into and down the front of my dress.  (Yes, into and down.) So I changed and cuddled my cranky boy again until he pooped on me.  Because nothing makes a cranky day better than poo.

If you're keeping track, here's what I've got so far:
cable TV detox + cranky baby + spit-up + poop  = convince myself to stay happy

I was doing my best to stay positive.  My solution at this point was to start working on dinner so I could distract myself.  I hauled my choosing-to-be-joyful self out to the garage freezer to pull out the homemade shredded chicken that I keep stocked.  That was when I realized that the freezer wasn't cold.  Everything I had stocked outside was defrosted and warmer than I am willing to consider as acceptable for food safety.  The freezer was toast (is that irony or a pun?) and so was everything in it.  Which meant nothing on this menu board here...

...could be made for dinner since they each had at least one ingredient in the freezer.  And we were trying not to eat out because we tightened our budget.  Plus, one of us had stuck the last $30 of grocery money in our pocket and forgotten where it was.  So we technically didn't have allocated funds to shop.

So if you're keeping track with this story, we now have:
cable TV detox + cranky baby + spit-up + poop + broken freezer + missing cash = forget trying to be happy this not okay with me!

Well, I made it through the night.  We had money for food that we scrounged from other envelopes.  Tim got the antenna installed on the TV so I could watch basic channels, so that helped my morale.

Until Saturday...

Ah, Saturday.  This was the morning that started bright and sunny.  I was up at 7 with a smiling baby boy.  Daddy was out on a bike ride.  Life was cheery, albeit frustrating if I dwelt too long on the broken freezer and lost food.

Then the TV went out.

Seriously?!

Yes.  We just updated our budget, tightened it in preparation for daycare, and now we have had two major appliances go haywire on us. 

So now the equation looks like this:
life sucks = Stephanie, future reality TV diva

I threw a fit.  An adult fit about why life is hard, why it's not fair, how I can't believe all these set backs happen as we are trying so hard to pay off all our debt.  I sent my mom a text asking if we had angered somebody in the appliance department at Sears.  I asked for prayers for my attitude since Satan seemed to be swinging a bat with my name on it.

Then I held E again.

Tim couldn't get through to me because I was not yet to the point that I wanted to stop and listen.  And I was still very upset even after holding E.  However, E was the tangible reminder that I still have what is very important to me - my husband and son.  (I confess I then freaked out hoping they weren't next on the list of crappy things to go wrong.  Faith is hard sometimes.  That's what it means to have real faith.)

So, reminded that life sucks but we can continue on, I did what any sensible person would do.

Or, at least Marie Antoinette.

When horrible things are happening and you can't afford bread, make cake.  So I did.  Coke Cake to be exact. Although, we called it Life-Sucks Cake.

And it was delicious.

And, as is only appropriate in these situations, we shared it with friends.

The End.