Good News Bears

What an awesome day! Seriously...

It started out as a so-so day. I woke up tired, ran out of coffee and I thought that very thing was to be a prelude to a bad day. But slowly, things began to look up. Vincent and I hopped in the car earlier this morning to bring my mom her birthday card and flowers (and I slurped a couple cups of coffee there...ha ha...the hidden agenda!). Afterwards, once we got home, we did our play thing for a little bit and then it was nap time. I put Vincent down at 9:00am (without nursing) and he moaned and groaned for no more than 5 minutes before he fell fast asleep. I scrambled to take my morning shower and do everything else that needs to be done around the house because once he's up, forget about it! Apparently there was no need for my mad scramble because Vincent slept for 2 1/2 hours! I almost got bored and looked forward to his waking so I could have some company!

We then took a short trip to the local park where I scoped out a potential location for Vincent's first birthday party. This was a success and I did, in fact, pick the location!! We laid lazily on the grass and Vincent kept his eyes glued on the kids skateboarding throughout the park, mesmerized by this ability to roll around so fast and effortlessly. I think I may have a future skateboarder on my hands! I snapped multiple photos of my young nugget and enjoyed the brief sunshine that shone down upon us.

After our ride home (a rather fussy one to say the least), we came home, grubbed some lunch and before I knew it, it was nap time again. This time Vincent nursed to sleep, but I didn't mind because when those tiny little eyes become lazy and slowly shut and his big lips begin to slow down on their once fast paced suckling, I am able to take in the loveliness of it all. I get to stare down at my young son and take in his silence...I mean beauty...ya, that's right, beauty.

I opted out of my performing my other wifely, motherly duties such as folding the clothes that were beginning to wrinkle in the dryer and attempting to prepare an adequate dinner. Instead I, too, curled up in my own bed where I entered a deep slumber for an hour until Vincent woke me up.

Once Anthony arrived home, I decided to ditch the clan and drive to my parents house where I could enjoy a relaxing and much needed soak in their hot tub. This is a treat I try to reward myself with from time to time when Anthony gets home from work. While at my parents I pulled out the scary, intimidating scale that never fails to make us feel like shit. I have never, and never will, have a scale at my home because if I were to have one, it would be become an unhealthy obsession. I have enough fucked up shit going on in my head, I don't need to add to the craziness. But I indulged the "woman" in me and hopped on. My jaw hit the floor and my eyes nearly popped out of my head. "There must be something wrong with this thing" I thought to myself. It's not that it was feeding me bad news. It was the exact opposite. It read 123 lbs. Let me tell you that before I got pregnant I was 128 lbs. This insane little machine thingy was telling me I was 5 lbs lighter than before I even got pregnant?? But let me also remind you that my body in no way shape or form resembles what it used to. How could I weigh less and look worse (in my own opinion)? My once small, perky boobs are now ridiculously uneven. This happened very early on in Vincent's life when he decided he only wanted to suck on one nipple. Apparently my right nipple just didn't blow his skirt up. I was eventually able to seek help through a lactation specialist and I am happy to say he began nursing on both sides; however, the damage was done. My right boob is noticably smaller than the left. I try to be body-obsessed but it's hard to say goodbye to our old selves and welcome with open arms these morphed bodies that may be hard to look at naked. I was happy to see the results on the scale though. It means I am getting somewhere. Now I just need to start working out so I can obtain the muscle I once had.

And then the real fun began tonight after dinner when I went to go put Vincent's pajamas on. To put it mildly, putting clothes on Vincent is like trying to tame a wild beast. He flails his body from side to side, screams in horror and does everything in his power to scoot away from you. In fact, it's normally a two person job. So, being the push over mommy I am, I always try to find him a toy that he's really not suppose to have in hopes to distract him long enough to put his diaper and his clothes on. Well, apparently Vincent somehow managed to call 911. Don't ask me how an 11 month old baby successfully dials those three particular numbers, but he did it! Within 5 minutes the sheriff arrived to "access the situation" at hand. I was mortified and apologized on Vincent's behalf. He was totally cool about it and even gave Vincent an honorary sheriff sticker. A sticker that will surely go into his baby book as a tangible memory of his very first 911 call. Something tells me it won't be the last....

It is now 8:45 pm and I am writing this in bed, capping my night with a blog and an episode of The Duel. What is with me and lame ass reality t.v? My guilty pleasure. I'm entitled to it, right?

Anyways...it's been a rad day. I am signing off now, cuddled up in my new micro-tech sheets, wishing you all a goodnight.

xoxox