Happy Halloween!

On this most sacred of holidays (and Pickle's 9 month birthday), wishing ya'll a Happy Halloween.

I got no swag to offer as part of a give-away contest except for leftover Trick or Treat "fun-size" calorie bombs, but mad geek props go out to anyone who can guess the our costumes:

Gotta run.  Pickle's first Trick or Treat outing is in 6 hours!

I'm Not Fat Yet.

I didn't get fat again, despite popular assumptions about prolonged absences of bloggers in this particular community.  *lolz*  Current stats are on the sidebar  (155.6 lbs).

My blog was looking pretty wrecked and it took me a while to figure out how to fix it so that the sidebar appeared where it should and whatnot.  But I'z smart and I eventually figured it out.  Go me.

Pickle turned SIX MONTHS old recently.  Holy shit.  Half a year.  Seems like a lifetime, but what an amazing half year it has been.  I can devote a whole blog to poop and boobs alone.  Which I may do.  But not now.

One thing about raising an infant is that time is limited and precious.  "Thank you, Captain Obvious," right?  It's not that I have no time, but I do have to spend it wisely.  I have 90 minutes or so in the morning to get my daily shit together before I go into full on Working Mama Mode.  That means I have two options:

1.  Blog about how I don't have time to work out; or
2.  Work out.

I chose Option 2.  And the Work Out option works out.  Even when Pickle gets up early in the morning, I have found ways to incorporate Mommyhood into my fitness regimen:

See?  He works out (tummy time, rolling, playing) while I work out.

He is also useful as an extra set of weights.

I have so much more to blog about, but I don't have time.  And these veggies and hummus sitting on my desk aren't going to eat themselves.  I will still be popping in from time to time (who knows, maybe even more frequently than once every 4-5 months), but for now, ciao!

P.S. --I also had to change my side-bar "about me" to reflect the fact that I am no longer "30-something."  Hello middle age, nice to meet ya!

P.S.S. (or is it P.P.S.?)--Hang in there, Lacey.  He's in good hands and you'll be with him soon.

So, About My Resistance Bands....

It turns out that the near-fatal encounter with my resistance bands wasn't so unusual or a result of user error.

The brand of resistance bands that I used, Fitness Gear purchased from Dick's Sporting Goods, has been recalled due to reports of the bands breaking and causing lacerations, amongst other things.

Figures.

Back in the Saddle

This week, I returned to work from maternity leave. It was TUFF.

First of all, the Saturday before coming back, we found out that Pickle has a pretty severe milk protein allergy. I had reintroduced dairy into my diet, thinking that the Zantac was taking care of his reflux. That was a dumb mistake on my part. Now, for the next two weeks, he has to be on soy formula until the dairy clears my system and I can breastfeed him again. Soy formula is evil. It is mostly "corn syrup solids" and oil.

In the meantime, baby boy suffered from bad tummy distress. His normal newborn acne turned into angry red patches on his cheeks and neck. His poops...ick. Up through the night before returning for work, he was miserable. And so was I. I had a bad meltdown, worse than the normal hormonal baby blues, punishing myself for returning to work too early.

But we survived. I was a sad mess on Monday, calling home to Bobzilla every hour or so. He handled his new role as Stay at Home Dad ("SAHD") like a champ. The baby didn't break. And life went on.

There is one thing that hasn't been difficult: Working out.

Amazingly, Pickle has what closely resembles a feeding and sleeping schedule. He gets my ass out of bed by 5:00 or 6:00 a.m. He feeds and goes back down to sleep for another two hours. During the second morning snooze, I've been able to get my usual 60 minutes on the bike, walk the dog, feed the cats, take a shower, do my hair and makeup and pack things up for work. By the time he stirs from his sleep, I'm able and ready to focus on him until I leave and pass him off to Daddy. Hopefully, this will continue. I haven't been able to do my pre-pregnancy workout schedule of 90 minutes by including strength training. Still haven't touched the weights. Next week, I will try to fit the strength training in during the late afternoon/evening. I'm not going to kill myself, though. At least I'm getting some cardio in.

Since I've "sorta" returned to normal, I'll be posting and tracking my progress again.

My current weight is 157.4 pounds. I was 142 pounds pre-pregnancy, amounting to an approximate weight gain of 15 lbs.

I haven't quite figured out how I'm going to deal with my diet, if I make any changes at all. Breastfeeding has caused my appetite to go through the roof. I am ALWAYS hungry (and thirsty), and I eat obscene amounts of foods. About 80% of the food is healthy, thanks mostly to Bobzilla's homecooking. But I ain't gonna lie...I can tear a whole bag of tortilla chips up. And there were some milkshake and cheese binges that most likely triggered Pickle's bad dairy reaction last weekend. Since I need to be REALLY careful about making sure I'm eating enough to sustain breastfeeding, I'm not going to be too concerned about it for now and will just wing it until the scale sets off alarm bells.

There is no doubt that eating healthy pre- and post-pregnancy, and staying physically fit, has helped us create and grow a healthy, thriving spawn. Pickle started smiling and cooing at 4 weeks, which is considered an advanced development. 

Pickle is also holding up his head for long periods at a stretch, and is growing like a mo fo. He is alert and intensely observant during the day hours. This week, he's learned to play face games by copying faces we make at him.

He still hates baths, though. It's like a horror show when his toes even graze the bath water.

Still cannot believe we grew this thing:

Post-Partum Goings On

Cannot believe it's been two and a half weeks since the baby bomb. It has been a blur of sleepless nights, crying (mom and baby), breastfeeding woes, doctor's appointments, nursing moms meetings, snuggles, baby kisses, book readings, tummy time, projectile pooping and golden showers.

Breastfeeding did NOT get off to a good start. During Vincent's first week home, my milk did not come in. Within 2 days, baby was down more than 10% of his body weight and dehydrated. A lactation specialist hooked us up with a feeding tube that, while well-intended, undermined the breastfeeding process and caused Vincent bad reactions to formula (first milk, then soy) and then gas from binge-feeding off the tube. It was hell for him, especially.

Thankfully, things turned around beginning mid-last week. My milk came in, thanks to daily oatmeal and copious amounts of fenugreek pills that I take, which makes me smell like maple syrup all the time and gives me a constant dull headache. He hasn't had formula supplements since Sunday. *whew*

He's been colicky, but we noticed that he's crying less and settling down more now that he's off the formula and strictly on breastmilk. I don't think this is a coincidence, given Bobzilla's family history of soy, corn and wheat allergies.

Now, his weight is back up. He's gained over a pound and grew over an inch during the last two weeks. And he is doing better every day. Filling out and chunking up. Looking more adorable. He's vocalizing more and can almost lift his head more consistently.

We haven't had visitors yet because of the instability. The lack of social contact is giving me a complex. I actually got excited to go with Bob to get the car's oil changed. Even wore earrings.

Yesterday, we took Vincent out for a run on the jogging stroller, along with the dog. It was beautiful out (read: gray, windy and 60 degrees) and I was chomping at the bit to get my running shoes and MOVE. Well as soon as we started running on the jogging trail, my rushed return to physical fitness was poorly thought out. My uterus felt like it was going to drop out and I peed myself. Ok then. I guess there's some truth to the whole 6 week post-partum recovery period.

Weight wise, I just weighed myself for the first time the other day and saw that I'm 13 pounds heavier than I was pre-pregnancy. I cannot fit in my size 6 jeans, but am comfortably hanging in my size 10 Levis and yoga pants. I ain't complaining. As it is, I think I'm losing weight from the breastfeeding alone. Plus, I think half of that gain is boob weight. I am practically Tura Satana proportions at the moment (RIP, Tura). I am ravenous and thirsty constantly. But, man, do I miss my workouts. Six weeks cannot get here soon enough.

Still, in spite of all of this, I would not change a thing. Not. A. Single. Thing.

Our little parasite is worth it all. Every day I look forward to new experiences with him, to giving him kisses, washing his face, changing his clothes, singing to him, wearing him in the Moby around the house, and watching him at his 6:oo a.m. feeding (it's the funniest thing ever....he throws both of his hands back like claws, bugs out his eyes, opens his mouth wide and then dives face-first into the boob).

He's my everything.

Introducing.....

Vincent William Christopher.


He was born on January 31st, 2011 at 12:39 p.m. after over 20 hours of a long, difficult labor and 10 minutes of a kickass, sweet delivery. He came out fast and hard into his Daddy's arms, just 20 minutes before a C-section deadline.



He weighs 7 lbs, 6 oz. and is 21 inches long. He is a tall drink 'o baby!


He is lovely and amazing. No?