If I ever wonder how it's possible for The Boy to consume as much as he does, I have no further to look than the mirror. I am, I freely admit, a Piggly.
Thankfully, you wouldn't know it to look at me. I was less than 100 pounds until I moved to Florida, and even now, my heaviest (non-pregnant) weight was 120. (I'm currently hovering around 115; I'd like to get down to 105, but that will require more effort than I'm willing to make right now).
So, why the post on what is normally such a taboo subject? Because I'm starving right now and the lunch we've ordered is due to arrive any moment. And I just know that I'm going to have to keep myself from gorging straight away or else I'm going to make myself sick.
But I'm so very hungry!
(And this is why I have to smile whenever The Boy starts asking for food. If stomach capacity is inherited, he got that from me, too!)
]]>Today started out a great day. The Boy didn't sleep well last night (he boycotted dinner and probably kept waking with a grumbly tummy), but he still woke me at 6, just after Chris left for work. It wasn't too terrible; I managed to pull it together and get him fed (almost 7 ounces of peaches, 3 ounces of yogurt, and about 3 ounces of milk), dressed, and both of us out the door just after 7:30. (That's a record, by the way.) This week I'm reviewing the month of May, you see, and I knew I needed a head-start at work.
And that's when the great day evaporated. I logged onto my e-mail to find urgent messages from our CMO and VP of Finance looking to resurrect a project I thought we had already killed. So I scrambled to update the data and form new conclusions, then painstakingly reviewed them with our department head before I could meet with the cafe analyst to review my assumptions and conclusions with him.
(I still haven't met with him, BTW. It's month end for all of us, and Mondays are always pretty manic around here.)
So, while he's at lunch and I'm waiting for him to materialize at my desk (or give me a call - I'm not very picky), I start my other end of month reporting. Only something's screwy with one of the data warehouses and the dollar values are way off. Never mind that we've notified IT about this almost three months ago. It's completely screwed up, and that means one of my selling reports (thank goodness it's only one of three) is totally wrong. At least it's a semi-easy fix - it will just require a bunch of matching to get it right. Thank God for VLookups.
I feel like beating my head against a wall.
Today I sent The Boy to school with a banana and a small container of peaches for snack. (They were having animal crackers this morning, and I prefer bringing his snacks instead of letting him eat animal crackers because I'm not sure of their ingredients.) Last week, I got into a bit of trouble with his teachers because I only provided a banana, and he got very angry when he finished it and there was no more to eat. So I've learned my lesson and realize now that I need to provide extra food for him - just in case.
Tomorrow I have my first Parent-Teacher conference. It's really just an opportunity to sit down with his head teacher and go over his development and progression. I can't imagine it would be much more involved than that; it's not like she's going to tell me The Boy is doing poorly in Science or needs to stay focused while studying History.
And next week marks the start of "Water Days". I'm not totally sure what it entails, but I know that I have to send The Boy to school on Fridays with swimming trunks, swimming diapers, water shoes, and a towel. At yesterday's Target excursion, I contemplated getting him his own beach towel until I remembered that a bath towel is plenty big for his little body. Silly Mommy.
I've had enough of the day. I think I'm going to head home. After all, I can review weeks of supply tomorrow. It's not like it's going to change overnight.
]]>That's all I've got right now as I'm struggling with a program to properly run my report. Argh! I've delineated everything in the simplest of terms, and yet it either times out or gets bumped by another project. It's infuriating.
It would be even worse if I actually needed it today. Sadly, though, I will need it on Monday, and if it's not working, I'm screwed.
So, I've been totally lax in posting. Totally lax. As my good friend Meredith said via e-mail, I haven't been this quiet since I ran off to the Philippines. For that, dear friends, I heartily apologize.
(Quick interruption: The report I want still isn't working, but I now have access to a folder from which I've been needing to pull data! So, today isn't a total loss. Now, back to our program, already in progress.)
The Boy is in a state of flux right now - each day is a new adventure. When we begin our day together, I have no idea if I'll be dodging pieces of bananas or struggling to keep up as he shoves everything into his mouth. Last Sunday (the week after Mother's Day), as our custom, I buckled him into his high chair and sprinkled some cereal on his tray so that he could eat while I peeled a banana. He clearly didn't want the cereal (evidenced by screams as he hurled Rice Chex to the floor), so I broke off a piece of banana and offered it to him. Instead of opening his mouth like a little bird (as he has been known to do), he forcefully shoved my hand away from him and sent the banana piece flying. Unfazed, I began dropping banana pieces on his tray. The screaming continued until he seemed to realize that he liked the food he was ready to chuck at my head. Afterwards, I wasn't able to put enough bananas on his tray.
This past Sunday, we experienced what I will call The Scrambled Egg Incident. Let's just say The Boy is very likely allergic to egg whites. Oh, he's had eggs as ingredients in lots of things without any reactions (his birthday cake and myriad muffins, for example), but apparently eggs alone are a big no-no right now. Not only did he vomit eggs all over himself (and me) several times, he also broke out into a terrible rash (complete with hives, but no wheezing or fever, thank God) that didn't go away until Monday evening. It's a shame, too, because he really liked them.
Anyway, we saw my friend Jen and her Baby E on Sunday. They came over for an impromptu play date as Jen washed a comforter in my supersized washer (which promptly ate part of her comforter, but that's a different story). I realized how spoiled I've been because The Boy has always been so easy to feed. Jen let me try feeding Baby E, and he would kind of stare at the spoon for a while before partially opening his mouth enough for me to squeeze in a little food. It was very cute, but as I said, it made me realize exactly how easy I've had it feeding The Boy.
Monday, I took The Boy to school at his regular time, then rushed back home to properly vacuum the house and straighten his room. The family room got a good suctioning, too, as did the master bedroom (sorely need, I have to say), and the hallway. Then Chris and I met up with our friends to see the new Indiana Jones movie. I don't really care what the critics have said - I really liked it. I thought it was great and in line with the rest of the franchise. That's all I will say about it.
After the movie, we picked The Boy up from school and took him to Fort Wilderness to visit the "petting zoo" (no petting of the ponies or miniature horses allowed, though), where he thoroughly enjoyed staring at the animals, then to the playground, where he eagerly pointed at the swings until we got him into a bucket seat. Oddly, though, he didn't have the same expression of glee that I've seen from other kids. Oh, he was happy, all right (he gets to go on the swings at school), but very cool about it, as evidenced from his photos.
Crazy kid.
We're back to a normal-ish sleep schedule. Oh, yes - we've had a time of the whole sleeping thing. Remember when he got sick with a stomach bug (that he later passed to me) at the beginning of the month? Yeah... that's when it all started. He woke up every three to four hours, screaming and in near-hysterics. So, it was the stomach bug first. Then it was a cold that progressed into an infection of some sort (I think it was a sinus infection, but my husband didn't remember exactly what Dr. W said) that required antibiotics. Of course, throughout all this he was transitioning from his infant class to the toddler classroom, too. Nothing like throwing everything at the poor kid at once, right? Well, how about throwing some teething in on top of that? We had no idea because of all the other things, but a good portion of his crying probably came from teething pain, too. At less than 14 months of age, all four first-year molars are in. Mind you, they've only broken through the surface and still have a lot more growing to do, but yeah, his molars are in now - before his lateral lower incisors, I might add.
This kid clearly follows his own schedule.
Once I realized that teething pain had something to do with it (and I had finished my work conference), I had the courage (and fortitude) to give him a little bit of Tylenol just before brushing his teeth and let him cry it out. That meant listening to him wake every four hours and watching the clock to see just how long each crying spell lasted. Each night got a little better, and now we're (mostly) back to normal. He'll still cry out a little (and he woke up today at 5:30, but I left him alone because I decided he really wasn't ready to wake - sure enough, he fell back asleep within five minutes), but unless I hear a shriek of pain or an otherwise unusual scream, I'm training myself to leave him alone.
This also means we're done with our multiple breakfasts (clearly, he wasn't eating well when he was sick), but it also means he's back to eating sizeable dinners and equitable breakfasts. Last night, he had six ounces of macaroni and cheese, about five ounces of watermelon, bread off my husband's plate, two ounces of corn, and a whole lot of milk. Today, we had a large banana, four ounces of yogurt, some cereal from my bowl, and a whole lot of milk. I can't say he eats as much as I do (after all, I've been known to put away enough food to make grown men stare in awe), but he really does like to eat. And really, pound for pound, I know he eats much more of his body weight each day than I do. (Yes, I did the math. I'm sick like that.)
So, that's the latest update on me. Lots of work, lots of toddler time, lots of work, and a little bit of play thrown in for fun. Speaking of "play", I got a Wii at the end of April and just invested in the new Wii Fit last week. I really like them both. (If you happen to have a Wii and want to be Wii friends, send me a message or e-mail with your Wii ID, and I'll send you mine, too!) Wii Fit is strangely addictive in ways a visit to the gym (sans my old trainer, Kennedy) never was...
]]>I'm not eating the Mexican food, mind you. I'm just smelling it, and it's not really working for me.
Today, in honor of Cino de Mayo, my office threw a Cinco de Mayo potluck. I didn't bring anything (are you kidding me? The Boy didn't fall asleep last night until almost 10!), so I'm not eating any of it, but as my desk is right next to the breakroom, I'm privvy to all the smells wafting from that room. Normally, I'd be all excited about it, but right now...
The Boy has a 4:30 appointment to see Dr. W today (I think my little one has a sinus infection on top of the stomach bug he had this weekend), and I'm going to see if he can see me simultaneously. I'm feeling really nauseous and I have absolutely no appetite - and for those who know me, that alone is a really bad sign.
]]>I like big sandwiches. I've liked big sandwiches since I was at least 10. Thankfully, lettuce has zero points so I can still enjoy a big sandwich. Sadly, the bread and the mayonnaise (other favorite parts) are what drive the point value of this sandwich so high. I just can't bring myself to eat lettuce and pastrami as a meal. Call me crazy.
]]>I decided to get back on Weight Watchers and see if I can lose these last few pounds that are stubbornly cleaving to me.
Side note: "Cleave" is a very funny word. If you use it as I just did, it means "to cling", but if you use it with an object, say "cleave a branch from the tree", it means to separate. Weird, huh? Now back to our regulary-scheduled programming.
Anyway, today is Day One. Since I knew I was going to start today, I binged a bit yesterday on all the junk food I don't want to see my husband eat, namely these delectable vanilla wafer cookies that my sister left me. There are still three (yes, three) boxes of Girl Scout Cookies, but I can stomach watching him devour all of those. Besides, I only really like the Samoas (or Caramel Delights, depending on your region's baker), and there's only nine in that box, anyway.
Later this week, I will also begin my own Month of Good, so I'm still forming my list for that. And Weight Watchers is high on that list.
For me, it's not as much about weight loss as much as it is about watching what I eat and, more importantly, how much I eat. Just to put it into some perspective: so far today, I've had yogurt, a frozen dinner, a salad, a whole bunch of carrots, and I'm just now on my second glass of water. I also walked briskly around Target at lunch, garnering me one point, thus leaving me with nine points for an afternoon snack and dinner. [sigh]
The last time I was on Weight Watchers (right before I got pregnant), I realized there are some foods I refuse to eat in a low-fat form. Mayonnaise is one of those; cheese and milk are another. I happen to like the taste of whole milk, and I like the taste of full-fat cheese, too. I also like my bread, though I'm perfectly happy eating the extra-fiber whole grain stuff. So, if it means I have to forego points in another area, so be it. But these are the kinds of dietary decisions I like to make for myself, rather than listening to someone else tell me that I have to do it a certain way or else.
One of my coworkers just brought me some unsweetened pineapple chunks - zero points! Score!
I've found the first few days really aren't too terrible - it won't get bad for another few weeks. And then I'll have to keep myself from complaining about it.
]]>Okay, maybe it's because I was seriously jonesing for salmon, and maybe it's because I've sat through meetings where the new salmon dish has been discussed, but I do have to say that I just had the best lunch ever.
Lunch today was at the Hard Rock Cafe in Orlando. (Yes, I'm going to plug my company's menu for the duration of the post. Please feel free to skip it if you really don't care to read about my lunch.) It's not an easy place to go when you live here because it's right by Universal Studios and Universal Islands of Adventure, and if you're not going to the parks, there's really no reason to pony up $11 for parking.
Anyway, location and parking aside, lunch was very very good. I had the new salmon entree (which runs about $18) with a side Caesar salad, and both were wonderful. The Parmesan on the salad alone was delicious. Apparently, it's shaved from a big wheel of Parmigiano-Reggiano and left in beautifully large chunks. It was tasty enough for me to contemplate purchasing a wheel myself and eating it in a single sitting (but it would be best if I didn't).
The salmon is a wild Alaskan sock-eye salmon, and quite flavorful. Even without the herb butter, it was fantastically seasoned, but the herb butter and lemon juice made it out of this world. I very nearly scraped the plate clean, it was so good. The sides are cheddar smashed potatoes and steamed vegetables (today it was broccoli), both of which I eagerly devoured, as well. Delicious!
So, the next time you're in the mood for salmon (or a really good burger), might I suggest your local Hard Rock Cafe? Sure, the music might be a little loud and a lot of the servers have tattoos and piercings and such, but the food is awesome!
And where else can you entertain yourself by looking at the world's largest rock & roll memorabilia collection?
]]>The Boy awoke this morning at 4:45. I shouldn't complain; he only woke at 8:45 last night (just before I jumped into the shower), went back down at 9:30, and slept until almost 5 o'clock. But 4:45 in the morning is still way too early for me.
Anyway, this early awakening meant an early start to our day. After some quality time playing with Daddy and a flashlight and a much-needed diaper change, I fed him a hearty breakfast of yogurt, applesauce, and Corn Chex. He then had the opportunity to roam the house and play for about an hour before I took him to school.
Apparently, roaming the house and napping in the car en route expells enough energy that one - who was well-fed just before leaving the house - might suddenly have a concave belly upon entering the classroom.
Such was the case with The Boy. I packed cheese and crackers to give him for a snack, and he eagerly attacked the cheese with a ferocity I had never before seen. Honestly, you'd never guess he had just eaten breakfast a mere two hours prior.
One of the teachers in a different classroom brought in some miniature muffins, and his primary teacher asked if The Boy could have one. I sampled one, decided they would pose a low risk for allergies, and offered him half of a mini-muffin top. As you can guess, the entire piece went into his mouth (and The Boy begrudgingly washed it down with some formula soon after). I broke apart the rest of the muffin into pieces and set them on the high chair tray.
Another little boy in his class, B, was sitting in the high chair next to him, also enjoying a muffin. His muffin, too, was broken into pieces for him, but B is simply not as neat of an eater. So, while The Boy had finished his muffin and returned to his cheese and crackers (the cheese, of course, being the more desirable of the two), B's muffin was in tiny crumbs strewn all over the tray.
Upon seeing B's tray, the primary teacher exclaimed, "B! What did you do to your muffin?" The Boy craned his neck to look at B, saw B pushing muffin crumbs around the tray, and gave B a look that clearly said, "What's wrong with you? That's a waste of a perfectly good muffin," before shoving a piece of cheese into his mouth.
If it's at all possible, interactions like these make me love The Boy even more!
]]>Baby C will not stop eating.
Seriously. The kid can eat. But there's a catch.
He also doesn't let us know when he's done.
Yesterday, I called Chris on my way home from work to ask him to please Google Map or Mapquest our new polling location. I wanted to vote and didn't know where the new polling place was, so I needed his help. Only, when he answered the phone, he casually informed me that he had just finished getting Baby C's and his soiled duds in the washer because the baby threw up after Chris got him out of the car.
"Threw up or spit up?" I asked for clarification.
"It might have been spit up. It didn't smell like vomit. Anyway, there was a lot of it and it was green and had chunks in it and it got all over me, all over him, and onto the sidewalk, too."
Knowing that I sent the baby to school with a container of green beans mixed with pasta, one of apples, and one of avocadoes, I wasn't too alarmed by the green vomit. Or the chunks. But I still asked, "Is he feverish?"
"No," Chris replied. "He doesn't feel hot. He's playing now." Pause. "What did you want me to do?"
"Well, I was going to ask you to Mapquest the new polling place, but since he's spewing stuff, maybe I'll just go straight home."
So, straight home I went. And when I got home, I looked for the green vomit on the sidewalk. There, near the front door, on the plants and on the pavers, were tell-tale pieces of avocado. And some white stuff that could only be milk. I had to keep from laughing.
Sure enough, the baby was fine. Chris was fine. The two of them were playing on the floor together. Chris related the rest of the story to me, and we were both thankful that Baby C waited until he was outside of the car to spit up his late afternoon snack.
"I think he was just overfed," I said.
Chris agreed. "I think so, too. They just finished feeding him when I got there."
Around 5:45, I offered to nurse Baby C (as is my custom, after coming home from work), and the baby greedily latched on. The way he was nursing, you'd think the poor kid had been deprived food for a week. Afterwards, I plopped him back onto the floor to play. Around 6:15, he started behaving like he was hungry. So, like any good mother, I prepared his dinner: corn, with apples for dessert.
He quickly ate the corn, protesting whenever I paused longer than he expected. After finishing the corn, I picked him up and let him stand so that I could feel his tummy. It wasn't very tight, but it certainly wasn't concave. Since he was still trying to chew on his hand, I decided to go ahead and let him have the apples he brought home from school.
Now, Baby C used to turn his head when he was finished, or put his head down, or, at the very least, not willingly open his mouth when he was full. But every time the spoon came near his face, he opened his mouth wide, expecting another bite. And, again, if I dallied too long with the apples, he protested. So, I kept feeding him.
I think you know where this is going.
It didn't happen right away. And there wasn't nearly as much as there was earlier that day when he covered the plants with milk and avocadoes. And it was very obviously applesauce. But I did need to change his pajamas and the protective mat on the changing pad, and he didn't get to nurse one last time after reading Goodnight, Moon.
So, this morning, while feeding him breakfast, I felt his tummy after every few bites to see if he was getting full and just not telling me. He had about 10 bites of banana left when I decided he'd had enough and proceeded to eat the remainder myself.
To which he objected. Loudly.
But after I took him out of the high chair, I knew I had done the right thing. Just as I propped him up, his chin on my shoulder, he let out one very big, very satisfied, "BRAAAAAAAP."
]]>I seem to only be able to remember to do this every other week. Ugh.
Today's flashback: Food Aversions.
I had terrible food aversions to chicken, mushrooms, and chocolate. Now, the mushroom aversion wasn't a big deal. The chicken aversion was troublesome, only because it's a source of protein (and we all know that pregnant women need a good amount of protein). And the chocolate aversion, well, as cruel as it was, it was also a saving grace for my weight!
I discovered the mushroom aversion after I brought some leftover steak and mushrooms to work with me. The mushrooms tasted terrible, as though they had gone bad. And then I recalled a few weeks prior when we were at the now-closed Hard Rock Cafe in Los Angeles (the first HRC in the US, for those playing along at home) when I ordered the vegetarian sandwich and couldn't eat it (though it's one of my favorite sandwiches).
The chicken aversion was much funnier when it made itself manifest. One night, Chris was cooking some ranch chicken, and I called to him from the couch, "Good God, what in the world are you cooking?" The smell was awful, and the thought of even eating any chicken was enough to make me gag. It wasn't until my eighth month that I was finally able to eat chicken again, albeit sparingly and begrudgingly.
Oh, and the chocolate aversion? The sight of it wasn't appealing. The smell of it was just awful. And because of those two things, I couldn't bring myself to even try any of it.
Thank goodness it didn't last forever!
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