Finley - Nine Months

Our little girl is 9 months old!  Can you believe it?  And she's just the cutest, sweetest little spitfire you've ever seen.  She's doing all sorts of fun things like crawling, and crusing and dancing.  She's headed quickly for that baby-proof the house stage which, if I'm being honest, I probably won't do.  In fact, yesterday I found her chewing on an outlet cover.

After three months of one ear infection after another I'm crossing my fingers and hoping that we're done with ear infections (and weekly Dr.'s office visits) for at least a few months.

Fin's started to say things like Dada, occasionally Mama and always Tata (for Tucker).  Man, she loves that damn dog.  She ate baby food for about a week before I gave up and just fed her what we were eating.  Just the other night she ate more lasagna than Conor did.  And, believe it or not, she'll out eat YOU on spaghetti night.

She's become quite vocal when left alone or if wants a particular toy (usually the "toy" is my phone or the remote control).  She's got a bit of an attitude for sure but she'll scream in your face for no apparent reason and then, in the very next moment, turn those baby blues on you like-What?  I'm adorable even when I scream.

She goes to bed like a champ every night and, unlike Conor, she'll fall asleep on our chests and Morgan and I find ourselves snuggling waaaay past bedtime.

She had her 9 month checkup yesterday and weighs in at 17 pounds 12 ounces and 28.5 inches long.  Still holding steady at 25% for weight and 75% for height.

Finley had her first turn on a swing last week and didn't care for it too much.

Pretty pitiful but still so darn cute

Our little girl is still the perfect addition to our family.

Flowers and freakouts

“You are never too old to set another goal or to dream a new dream.”
― C.S. Lewis

You know how sometimes you hear just the right thing at just the right time?

I think I"m going to go back to school.  To get my MBA in Healthcare Management.

I'm a little freaked out by this.  (Morgan, who is just now reading this is more than a little freaked out by this.)

Here's the thing:  I was planning on getting my Masters degree anyway.  I was just planning on getting a Masters in teaching.  Now that the whole teaching profession has gone in the crapper (not that teaching is crappy or that teachers are crappy just that the great state of Oregon has decided that educating our children is not really that important and the districts are no longer hiring new teachers because they've got so many experienced teachers that have been laid off - and I lost my train of thought.  Teachers = Good.  Just for the record) it doesn't seem very financially responsible to spend $25,000 on a degree which leads to a job that I can't possibly be hired for.  But!  I need a job.  And I might as well have majored in under-water basket weaving for all the good my degree in Social Science is doing me right now.  And healthcare is a huge, growing field!  And the BLS website says they make more money (lots more) than teachers do and that the industry as a whole is expanding rather than contracting and...and...and...

Ok, breathe.  So, I'm going to an information meeting tomorrow at Marylhurst and one next week at Portland State and we'll see...

Wish me luck.
Thank you for listening.  Here are some pictures of pretty flowers.

Fair Weather

Today was such a nice afternoon (and by nice I mean 62 degrees and overcast, but it's all about your perspective - after 29 straight days of rain I'm counting 62 and NOT raining damn near tropical) the kids and I played outside.

I played on my phone but that's still playing so it counts.

She's like, what is this "outside" you speak of?  It's fabulous!

She can raise one eyebrow! I love it.

Conor was playing golf (see the stick?) and is pointing to his "hole in one."

It's a dirty face but a cute one.

Private eyes (clap) are watching you (clap, clap) (10 points if you know the name of that super cool 80's band)

Yeah, he went behind these bushes to poop.  When he's 13 and reads this, he's gonna kill me.

Always watching Conor

Always watching the big kids down the street

Thank goodness spring is here...even if only for today.

Before and After

Twelve weeks ago I paid $20 and entered the Biggest Blogging Loser weight loss competition.  Originally I thought the final pot would be about $700.  It turned out to be over $1500 for first place and over $600 for second place.

After the first couple of weeks I knew there was no chance I would be the overall winner nor would I take second place.  And while that was disappointing, watching the numbers steadily go down on the scale kept me sending in those weekly weigh in photos.

In those 12 weeks I lost a total of 16.8 pounds and I didn't take any pills or go on Atkins or eat only raw carrots.  I watched what I ate (courtesy of Weight Watchers) and I worked out 3 to 4 days per week.  And it felt awesome.

When I started at the gym I couldn't run more than 6 minutes without having to stop (I lied and told Morgan that I ran for 11 minutes.  Total fabrication.)  This weekend I ran for 77 minutes and 7 miles.  And it felt awesome.

When I started watching what I ate I couldn't tell you how much pasta should have been on my plate versus how much chicken or vegetables. I learned and it felt awesome.  When I started I felt hungry all the time.  Like, all.  the.  time.  I would eat 10 almonds or a string cheese and just wait for the hunger pains to return.  Now, I'm not hungry all the time.  I can eat a meal, then eat a snack and feel satisfied.

I cut out a lot of sweets and a LOT of beer but I was able to eat and drink both on occasion so I never felt deprived.  I even spent two weekends away from home eating and drinking merrily and came home to find I had still lost weight.  And that felt awesome.

I was surprised to learn that I am an emotional eater.  When I was stressed or bored I would head to the kitchen.  That was a pretty easy habit to break once I recognized it but it surprised me nonetheless.  The hardest habit to break, by far, was my naptime munchie-fest.  Every day, as soon as I put the kids to bed, I would hit the kitchen and eat whatever sweet or salty treat I could find.  Sometimes I would just eat more lunch.  Even still, as soon as I leave our hallway I'm tempted to check out the contents of our cabinets.  I found that eating (slowly savoring is more like it) 3 dried apricots usually got me over the worst of the cravings.

I also learned that when I fell off the wagon so-to-speak, it was SO hard to get back on.  Almost like starting over but with slightly less motivation because I had already lost a fair amount of the weight I wanted to take off.

Finally, I learned something really important about myself.  I learned that I can be fit and healthy and feel good.  And not because of the size of my ass, or arms or thighs.  I learned that by losing this weight I feel more confident, not because I am physically smaller, but because I feel a true sense of accomplishment in having started something and succeeded.  I take pride in how I look because I worked HARD to get to this point.  And THAT feels awesome.

                 BEFORE                                                                        AFTER

January 1st, 2011

March 28th, 2011

I still have about 6 pounds to go until I reach my ideal weight but I feel so pleased with where I am today.  My happy weight.  Who knew that I would feel better about myself at almost 32 than I ever did at almost 22?

I'm probably jinxing myself right now...

 ...but I'm going to go ahead and say it. Conor is potty trained!

I don't remember if I've chronicled our adventures in potty training here or not. Probably not because there have been some EPIC battles which have left both of us in tears and I've probably felt too embarrassed to write about it here.

So, nearly a year ago I decided that it was time to start potty training Conor. Originally I had felt ok about having two kids in diapers but upon telling people about this I was looked at in such horror and disgust that I immediately changed my mind. You know, so that other people wouldn't think I was...well whatever I was thinking at that time.

I learned about the 3-day potty training system and after hearing ringing endorsements from a couple friends decided that this was the route to go.

I won't go into details but it was, in a word, AWFUL. So, so, SO bad. I had to have been seven and a half months pregnant at the time, I was finishing up my last term at school and awash in pregnancy hormones.

WHAT WAS I THINKING?

So, we gave up. And thank goodness we did. UGh. It was bad.

We kept trying intermittently over the next several months but Conor would not go on the potty. He would hold it for upwards of six to eight hours, then commit a timeout-worthy offense then pee in timeout. We would rush him to the potty, he would hold it some more than complain about his tummy hurting. Poor guy.

A couple of weeks ago though we ran out of diapers. I told Conor he needed to wear underpants until I could get to the store. The day got away from me and soon Conor ran up to me, said he needed to go potty (this in and of itself was not unusual) but when he sat on the potty he actually WENT IN THE POTTY.

That was almost two weeks ago and he's been dry ever since. He's refused to wear a diaper at nap or at night but has kept dry while sleeping too.

Since Finley is now in cloth diapers and Conor is now in underpants we are saving more than $60 per month in disposable diapers. So awesome.

(I can't believe I just wrote an entire post about pee. I'm a little disgusted with myself.)

Cute. Just cute.

These girls.  I think they will be best friends.

This girl.  Damn.  Slays me every time.

File this one under Why Do I Even Bother?

Seriously, kids? It's freaking St. Patrick's Day, I 'm stuck at home with you ankle biters when I should be out drinking green beer LIKE A REAL IRISH LASS, and you can't even give me a good picture?

I wash my hands of you.

But only after I kiss your cute little faces off.