Lately I have been subscribing to the "If you can't say anything that doesn't induce a narcoleptic response, then don't say anything at all" rule. That's how the old adage goes, right?
Who wants to hear how many ham and cheese sandwiches I made for lunch anyway?
For the record, I made none. Because my husband made them. But I did helpfully yell out the lunch order from the living room for him.
With three of the six in school now (brutally honest moment: I originally typed three out of FIVE. Sorry Baby, I hardly ever forget you anymore!), life is starting to settle down a little bit. The school schedule gets superimposed on our home schedule and it actually works out better for me to have that outside influence for now. It's a real temptation for me to let things slide around here when I have a little baby in the house. I look around at a wasted morning and think "But I just had a baby!! I can't stick to a timeline!!"
Except that Bun, Mopsy, and Baby all do much better when I have some semblance of a schedule in the morning. They can't be feral children forever.
The blogging has remained light. I've lost my focus . . . or rather, my focus has been misplaced for a long while. And the blog does not seem to fit tidily into what I need to be doing for my family right now. I'm not closing shop, but I am trying to see if I can work it back in.
Until then, we always have Conversion Diary's Quick Takes! Huzzah!
I've been once again trying to lose my baby weight . . . from three babies ago. This is such a tough struggle for me, because I have a personality that likes to fill myself up with whatever is easy or new or shiny and so on. I am very much "of the world" that way.
Losing weight is not just about eating less and moving more, for me. It is tantamount to a spiritual fight. To a person who has never struggled with weight, I know that may sound absurd, but it's true.
I have been blessed with overall wonderful pregnancies and happy, healthy deliveries. If I can forget about weeks 4-13 (nausea!) and weeks 36-41 (enormity!!), then I can honestly say I enjoy everything about being pregnant.
I know there are people who can't believe that, but we all have different crosses. While they might be reveling through postpartum, I am just crawling along.
In a similar vein, I'm pretty sure I have a low functioning thyroid. I have a lot of the symptoms of hypothyroidism and it practically gallops through my family, but every time I am checked out, the levels are not low enough for medication.
Which means that it takes me twice as much exercise to lose a stupidly small amount of weight.
What was I saying about crosses again? Oh yeah.
Have you ever gone somewhere, even somewhere fun with someone you really love, but you just couldn't seem to muster up a lot of excitement for the event? And then you get there and it turned out to be the best time ever? (or do I just have spectacularly low expectations of things? I'm not sure . . .)
Well that happened to Rob and me when we went to the wedding of some friends up in the Pocono Mountains a few weekends ago. It turned out to be one of the best dates we've had in a long time.
I didn't think it would be as much fun as it was, especially since I called my sister the day before the wedding and said, "So do you want to come over and help me shop for a dress for this thing or what?" The excitement was palpable.
To her credit, my sister found me TWO great dresses that were on sale. It is really so much easier to shop when you have no kids and a personal shopper at your beck and call.
The wedding itself was a civil ceremony, outside in the mountains, and it was lovely, if just a little hippy-dippy. When the officiant started invoking the spirit of love and of the earth, I could see Rob out of the corner of my eye and he was making the sign of the cross a few times in a row. We got God in on the ceremony, too.
The reception was fantastic, and we had an even better time than I thought we might.
Even though I didn't start out in the right frame of mind, I'm convinced that if you can't get on board with good friends, a delicious meal, a live band, dancing all night, and champagne, then you might be a robot.
Scratch that, you might be dead. Even robots like to party.
The aforementioned wedding was for two people in Rob's Family Medicine residency program, so there were many people from his office in attendance.
The Monday after the wedding, one of the residents said to Rob, "Your wife is a lot of fun!"
I had to laugh, because I don't really think of myself as fun. I don't know if I ever have. The words most people use to describe me are responsible, dependable, and stable. It was nice to hear a different description for a change.
Bun's love of the Phillies keeps growing, and he is now teaching himself all the numbers of his favorite position players.
When the checkout lady at the grocery store asked him how old he was, he replied: "I am three! Just like Hunter Pence is #3. We match!" Luckily, this is Phillies country and the checkout lady knew what he was talking about.
A friend mentioned to me the other day that I have yet to pick a "permanent" blog name for Baby. After all, she said with a chuckle, what happens when another baby comes along?
Two things jumped out at me about that:
1. I am now at the point where people just assume that another baby will be coming. I'm okay with that because it saves me a lot of time when people don't ask "Aren't you DONE yet?!"
2. Why haven't I given Baby a blog name? I do think "Baby" is a sweet moniker, but I really think it's because I don't want to rush away her babyhood. She's such a happy little doll of a baby, too.
There is no seventh take this week. Rob's got a patient in labor so he won't be home until late, and the kids all have a little head cold. I foresee an easy dinner and an early bedtime. And the kids should probably hit the hay early, as well.
Enjoy the weekend, my friends!