Thursday, April 25, 2013

Stop me if you've heard this before

   In one week from today my mother-in-law will be arriving to spend a week with us. We haven't seen her since Nixon's birthday and I was not at my best, mentally wise. She'll be here one week before Mother's Day, which is cool since we haven't seen her for Mother's Day since....well, before Nixon was here.

   That story goes like this:
Mac and I got married in March 2008. I found out I was pregnant in late-March/early-April, but we decided to wait to tell everyone because I'm superstitious and it seemed awesome that the end of the first trimester was very close to Mother's Day.
Not telling family for 11 weeks....hardest thing ever!
Mac and I had already made plans to fly to Miami and spend the weekend with his mom. We saw my family in March, so this was our first trip to visit his family since getting married. We had planned on not telling his mom until Mother's Day, but had to change that a little. I had horrible all day nausea and I'd lost over 15 lbs by the time we went to Miami. His mom knew something was up. I looked awful! I was super tired (tried passing it off as being tired from the early flight without success) and I couldn't keep anything down.
We went out to dinner with Mac mom, step-dad, brothers, sister-in-law and her family. I was trying to eat and not get super sick. Mac and I decided, since everyone was there and it was obviously going to be a long weekend, we were going to tell everyone after dinner.
As everyone may or may not know, Mac's mom is Vietnamese. Mac is half-Vietnamese but never showed much interest in that side of his heritage. (trust me this is important)
As everyone was getting coffee and dessert, Mac puts his arm around me and says to his mom, "Mom, how do you say "grandma" in Vietnamese?". She starts to explain, it depends on if it's the maternal or paternal side of the family. Then pauses and says "Why do you ask?". Mac says, calm and deadpan as can be, "Well, because you're going to be one."
Cue my mother-in-law asking "Are you serious?" a few times, other family members giving us hugs and congrats and my mother-in-law telling me "I knew you looked more than just tired!"

   (Fast forward to our next visit to Miami before we left to move to Okinawa, when I fell in love with my mother-in-law's's a soup that is A-maz-ING! But when I was pregnant, I could barely stomach the smell, let alone the taste. Thank gods, Nixon left my body and I could like my mother-in-law's awesome food once he did)

   It seems crazy that it was five years ago that we told everyone Nixon (at the time Squishy) was incubating in me. I can not imagine my life without him, without Mac and without my awesome mother-in-law.

  Here's to an awesome visit, a wonderful night-out with my husband and Nixon getting some quality time with his Nana while I remain in much better spirits than our last visit.

Sunday, April 21, 2013

"Mommy's brain is broken, kind of"...explaining things to a 4-year old so he understands them without being scared

  Last night Nixon had an extra late night. He stayed up until almost midnight! He was in bed with me watching a movie on TV being good and quiet. Since Mac was working I was okay with a slumber party/movie night in our bed.
   I had to go downstairs and take my medications for the night. I told Nixon I as running downstairs to get my meds and Nixon says "Mommy, I need meds too. I am sick." *sigh* This is when I have to explain to my 4-year old that my medications aren't for an illness but for my "broken brain".
me: Nixon, I take medication because my brain doesn't work right not because I'm sick.
Nixon: You brain is broken?
me: Yeah, kind of. It doesn't work like it's supposed to. The medicine helps it work like a regular person's brain. Like yours does.
Nixon: Because my brain isn't broken?
me: No, baby, your brain isn't broken.
Nixon: How did your brain break?
me: Oh, well, I didn't have a good childhood and my brain worked differently to help me deal with it. Now my brain thinks that's a proper way to function.
Nixon: But you brain is broken!
me: Yep, it doesn't know it is, but I realize it doesn't work like it should.
Nixon: Can I see you brain?
*I get on the bed so he can look at my head*
Nixon: I see it mommy! I see your broken brain. It's cracked right here *points*
me: Wow! You can really see it?!
Nixon: I'm going to kiss it, so you feel better. Then you can go take your medicine and be a good mommy for me, okay?
me: *almost tearing up* Okay, baby.

Wednesday, April 10, 2013

This is a selfish post about me and my own issues....good and bad, with a little parenting tip at the end.

  Since the first of January, I've steadily been losing weight. I'm not doing anything significant. No working out, no real diet plan (though for the first month I did eat a lot of fruits, veggies and salads to really kickstart the weight loss). The biggest thing I've done is make a commitment to use daily and track my caloric intake.

  Around Christmas time I realized my weight was creeping up over and past my comfortable heavy point. I decided after the holidays and starting January 1st, I was going to stick to something. Calorie counting was it, as a starting point. I also cut back on sugary snacks, soda and fast foods.

   In January I lost almost 7 pounds.
   In February, I lost 4 pounds.
   March it all kind of tapered off, with a total loss of 2.5 pounds lost.
   As off Monday this week, I've lost 15 total pounds. The most amazing reality of all this weight loss struck me yesterday after I got dressed. I've always been pear-shaped. It's my reality. Even when I was in my late-teens and early-20's, weighing not even 100 pounds (and struggling with poor self-image issues) I was always thicker on the bottom.
**I never really noticed, until one day while out with my then-boyfriend and his friends, one of his friends asked me, who at the time was probably only about 90-95 pounds, while wearing shorts at an amusement park "Why do your thighs rub together when you walk?". I remember, at that very moment I became very, very aware of my thighs touching and my perception of myself was suddenly very ruined. I never felt thin enough, pretty enough or tall enough. I couldn't fix my height, but I could fix my weight. Being only 5 feet, 1 inch tall I am a naturally petite person. I'm also naturally pear-shaped. At 18-22 years old, I couldn't appreciate my naturally curvy body because the people I surrounded myself with broke each other down instead of building each other up, like I later found out real friends do. 
  I spent several years hiding my lower body, while showing off my chest. It made no sense, but I didn't know any better, I didn't have any positive role models in my life at the time. As a result, I'm kind of permanently damaged when it comes to my self-esteem and how I see myself. The smallest, negative comment about my looks can send me into a downward spiral of self-doubt. Seriously, the smallest negative comment. It could be made in jest, but I'll hear it in a serious tone and take it as such. Luckily, I now have a supportive husband and some really great friends I can turn too and get some great, loving advice from when these comments happen.**

  I put on my jeans yesterday, knowing they were looser, and feeling comfortable in them as a result. It was gorgeous outside, so I was even rocking a cute tank top, first of the season! I noticed, walking over to Mac's Geek Corner, my thighs don't rub! Not even in the jeans!
  I don't know about most moms, but for me, this was total proof that the weight loss wasn't just numbers on a scale going down! That was concrete proof that I'm making real progress!
  I've had bumps in the road, I've had weeks when my weight went up a bit and I've had trips to Taco Bell (mmmmm....those ranch doritos tacos!!) and even McDonald's. But the thing I've learned is moderation. I don't NEED to go large, a small is just fine. If I'm craving ice cream, I'll stick to the serving size. Or I'll make a smoothie instead.

   It's hard, but well worth the effort.
   Sorry, this blog wasn't about parenting exactly, but as a mom I struggled with my identity and image. Being able to look and feel good, I think helps me be a better mom. Also, I know how to help Nixon be a good friend, not the negative ones I had in my life for so long. I want him to build his friends up, not tear them down. Especially young girls, the smallest comment can have a lifelong impact on them. Sadly, I'm proof of that.