Vasectomy

I wrote a little while ago about how I knew deep in my heart that I was done having babies.  Andy feels the same way.  We just know that we are done.  We love our girls, they are both happy and healthy.  We can afford to take care of them and splurge a little for nice things every now and then.  We're happy where we're at.

So that left the question of birth control.  I refuse to go back on the birth control pill because it turns me into a stark, raving lunatic, plus I always forget to take it and I know of too many "I forgot to take my pill" babies.  Condoms aren't for me (I'm not single or 16).  So Andy agreed to get a vasectomy.

It was a fairly simple procedure.  He had it done yesterday.  I wasn't really even worried about it even though he went under anesthesia.  I was more worried about the recovery.  Meaning that he was going to be a pissy, whiney baby for a week making me wait on him hand and foot while taking care of the kids and the house.

He's not that bad.  A little pissy and moany, but not too bad.  He's more just uncomfortable.  He's mostly lying on the couch with a bag of peas on his crotch, but he's in good spirits.

I'm so glad that it's done and we don't have to worry about pregnancies or anything like that.  We still have to be careful for a little while until he gets a sample tested, but I'm feeling very relieved!

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She Devil

Remember how I used to write about what a sweet and happy baby my Arya was?  How she laughed at everything and was quick to smile?  How it was so easy to keep her content?  Well now she's turned into a little she devil.

Seriously.

That girl wants what she wants when she wants it.  If she doesn't get it she full on yells in your face.  Not cries, screams at the top of her lungs in anger/frustration.  She also will throw herself on the floor in the cutest little temper tantrum you ever saw.  Sometimes she even bites.  I don't think they make baby muzzles though, do they?

Just biting my toes

Here are some things that set her off:

• when I don't let her walk on the table
• when I don't let her eat rocks
• when her sister tries to hug me or sit on my lap
• when someone is eating food and she wants some
• when it's time to change her diaper
• when she wants to be picked up and you don't pick her up the nanosecond she says "up"
• when she thinks she can climb the stairs by herself
• when her sister won't share her ice pop

The life of a one year old is just rife with tribulations isn't it?  

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What I've Lost

Since starting P90X3 I've lost a lot.  Not a ton of weight because Weight Watchers had already gotten me within my goal range.  I truly think that weight loss is more about what you eat, but exercise can help you out of plateaus and help sculpt your body and boost metabolism.  But I most definitely lost some pounds and a bunch of inches.

When I first started the program I weighed 123 lbs (my goal is 115) at the end of the 90 days I weighed in at 116.8 (I've been hovering around there since, summer is a little harder to stay on point with my eating).  So that's a total of 6.2 pounds.

I also lost inches:

Waist:  2.5 inches
Hips: 1 inch
Chest: 0.5 inch
Arms: 1 inch
Thighs: 2 inches

I've also lost most of my excuses.  "I have no time" I'm worth 30 minutes a day.  "It's too hard with the kids"  I do it after bed time or during Arya's nap.  Sometimes Isabella does it with me.  "It's too hard"  Each video has a modifier so I can do what I can until I'm strong enough to do more.  When I first started I couldn't do a push up off my knees...now I can.

I feel stronger, leaner, more healthy, and more fit.  I'm not promoting this program, I'm not even a beach body coach.  Just a happy customer.

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A Mommy Obsession

Arya is obsessed with me.  Like legitimately she stalks me.  She follows me around the house like a shadow.  If anyone is holding her and she sees me she puts her arms out for me to take her.  I'm the only one who can hold her in the pool.  She runs around the house yelling "mommy, mama, mama, mommy".  She can always be found under foot.  I haven't peed by myself in eons.

I think this must be what it feels like to be a celebrity.  To have someone follow you around, yelling your name 24/7 when you're just trying to live your life in peace.  It's like living with a very tiny paparazzo whose very income depends on getting a shot of you with no make up on.

It's incessant.

On the one hand it is very wonderful that she loves me so much.  On the other hand it's also nice to do the dishes without being yelled at to hold a baby.

I had hoped that this obsession would have waned since I've been home from work, but it seems to have just intensified.  You have to see when Isabella tries to get a hug in, Arya will storm over and scream in her face and try to smack her away from me.  Isabella totally uses this to torment her sister.

Hopefully, she'll get a grip on reality soon and realize that daddy and grandma are just as cool.  Maybe then I can pee in peace.

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A New Leaf

So I've been kind of wishy washy lately about blogging.  Mostly because I'm kind of running out of things to write about.  I've pretty much got this mothering thing as under control as I'll ever get it, which means it's always "just" eluding my grasp.  But also because of the reaction I get from some of my posts.  If I'm in a bad mood and I vent on here I get comments saying that I might be depressed...or I might just be having a bad day.  If I write about being jealous of someone else I get lectured.  Mostly I just brush it off, but sometimes it kind of bugs me.

But I've decided to kind of turn over a new writing leaf.  One this is my space so I'm going to write whatever the hell I want and the comments are your space so you can write whatever the hell you want.

In regards to the actual writing.  There's so many things in my life that I'm passionate about besides my kids, although my writing probably will stay mainly focused around those two silly girls.  But I love to cook and share recipes.  I love good wine and craft beer.  I love to exercise and run...well I like to exercise and run.

So there's no reason why my writing shouldn't reflect all the facets of my life.  Fuck trying to fit into a niche.

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