When does our whole body image go awry? Having a daughter has made me think about this quite often - and not because I'm not worried about Jack, but because I know the agony of being a girl. Being a girl is ridiculously hard - it has to be worse than being a boy. Boys don't examine their cellulite in the mirror (Frankly because they are far less likely to get it due to fat cell make-up or something. Assholes.) and stare at their naked bodies, mentally examining and critiquing every inch of skin (maybe just one piece of skin, but let's not go there). There's no pressure on guys to be a certain body type, to regain their figure after having children, or stop traffic in a bikini. It's impossible not to be insecure about your body in a world where exercise, weight, and perfect bodies are thrown in our faces every day. And try as I might, those things are impossible to ignore. I look at people obsessing over exercise and food and I get so angry thinking there's more to life! Then I sit back and realize I do the same thing - I just don't advertise it.

I think about ways to save Charlotte from having the hideous body image that I do and I'm not sure how to do it. My mom never seemed negative about her body and certainly was never negative about mine. I thought my issues began in college, but really it was high school. My summer softball teammates had a tendency count the fat grams in everything...a habit I picked up quickly. I'd pick cheese off of everything to avoid extra fat. Even pizza. I'd eat fat free everything (which we know is super healthy these days) and if I thought I had eaten too much, I'd go run an extra mile or two in addition to whatever workout I may have done before.

In college, everyone is skinny and pretty. They have perfect skin. I'd stare at these gorgeous girls with their tiny bodies and I know I reeked of jealousy. What was wrong with me? I had the wrong clothes, the wrong everything. The only thing going my way was that I was blond. I hated my big boobs. I couldn't get a guy to notice me - which, let's face it - at that time in a girl's life, it's important. I'd get glammed up for a night out and see pictures later - only to wonder what the hell I was thinking wearing that outfit looking the way I did.

Cut to a several years later and I'm married with two gorgeous kids. I should feel amazing about these two wondrous creatures. I love my babies but my body is another story. The thing is, I'm smaller than I was then. Does it get worse as we get thinner? Is there more pressure to maintain? I didn't want to be the wife "let herself go", or the woman who couldn't get the baby weight off. All I know is that I hate the guilt I feel after a big meal or having to miss a workout. I hate having to put in an extra 30 minutes or more just to make up for it. I hate feeling like shit the minute I take a bite, thinking what it's doing to my body. Is this an eating disorder? Body dysmorphia? I will examine every flaw, refusing to see the good. My belly is too soft, my thighs aren't muscular enough. My arms are too flabby, my butt and boobs are sagging. Just when I find something I think is passable, the goggles start creeping back on and I change my mind. I wonder if sometimes it doesn't matter... are we destined to have the bodies we have no matter what?

I definitely don't have a problem eating but maybe that's it? I feel so guilty because I have no willpower. I can work out all day long but can't motivate myself to stop eating when I'm full or when I know I've eaten enough calories to feed a small village. Do I have to survive on lettuce and ice chips just to lose a pound or two? I think it gets worse because I compare myself to others and constantly size myself up against other women. I never mentally criticize others - it's always me beating myself up. I want to nail down exactly why we do this to ourselves and how it can get better. I'm not even sure it's a weight/body issue as much as maybe it's something else. Something is missing that's not completing the picture (wise words spoken by my sister in a rant). I think we could lose 30 pounds, 10 pounds, 70 pounds and if something isn't right, it won't matter. We'll still be trying to figure it out. One thing I do know is that I'm going to try to make Charlotte as healthy and positive as I can about herself and hope that maybe some of it will come back around my way.

Happy 2011, folks...here we go.

Jack is in his fifth month of preschool and continues to enjoy it but never shares what he does. When we ask he simply says, "I played." I guess that's what you do at age three in preschool, but I know there's more because I've seen various art projects - a stocking, star, turkey, bear mask, ornaments, and countless other goodies that I pull out of his bag in a rumpled mess. He has two best buddies and I wonder if he chats his teachers up like he does everyone else? He is full of hot air and he's getting a bit of a temper. We're trying to fix that...I find myself having nights where I swear all I do is yell at him...probably not helping matters. I hate those nights - and feel like the worst parent ever. He's also tenderhearted, wild, sweet, anal, and extremely witty. For example, in trouble, I say, "No more arguing. Stop." To which he says, "but I was going to tell you I love you." The get out of jail free card. Or: "Jack, sit down and eat your dinner, you are going to fall out of your chair and get hurt." "But I was going to come give you a hug and a kiss." An answer for everything, he's taking after his mother, which could be to his detriment! The majority of his traits that make a mother crazy are from me, so maybe I should do a 180...

I can no longer keep up with Charlotte. She's climbing on chairs, desks, tables, benches, toilets...she has fallen off chairs so the lesson about letting her fall (or something) does not apply. She cries for a minute, hops back up and goes again. I turn my back for one second and she's on the kitchen table, playing with a screwdriver I'd left out from when I was removing light covers the night before. I look down to put on my shoes and she's on top of the toilet tank or teetering between the seat and the counter. I've removed furniture, rearranged, stacked and somehow she still finds a way to the top of the heap. She loves to dance in the backseat with Jack and the key to her heart is through her stomach. Any mention of food and she's all yours. Any mention of leaving and she's at the closet waiting for her coat and putting her hands on her head and saying, "hat!". So smart, but Jack does enough talking for the both of them. Their differences are fun to see...but at this age Jack was talking like a big kiddo and she's just saying a few words and that's difficult at times, but I think we can generally figure her out. She loves to sit on my lap and look at books - she roars and oinks (which is really just panting) and is getting smarter by the minute.

They are exhausting and fun and silly and I love them. I am thrilled to say we purchased a shiny new Nikon and pictures will be more abundant now. Or maybe not - I have 600 on the camera and none of them have made it to the computer...so I'll take more and do even less posting, probably. The weekend is here and the kids and I are in for a painting party, snowmen, and possibly some cookies added to the mix. Hubby's new job with youth sports has him working Saturday basketball so mama is going to have to start getting creative! See you soon, all!

'Tis the Season...

December 15. I am not even close to having Christmas presents finished, Christmas cards are slowly making their way to the top of my list, and I am completely unmotivated. Why am I so far behind? I am usually gung-ho and ready for action. This year, I can't be convinced to do anything. There's something to be said for maternity leave during the Christmas holiday...online shopping during three hour baby naps. Shopping, decorating, making cookies, addressing cards during those daytime hours between bouts of nursing and diaper changing. Easy! This year I can't decide what to get anyone. I'm busy at work, and after hours online browsing is the last thing I want to do. These next few days are crucial...I definitely need to get my game face on.

Our house is constantly bustling with energy. Jack is becoming a little man...and a little turd at times. I think Christmas excitement is boiling over inside of him. He's also getting bored and needs more activity in his life. His gymnastics class will start again in a few weeks and with dad's new job at the YMCA (Youth Sport Director!), he's got more opportunities to be active when it's cold outside. He's still got his obsessions (Legos, hunting, sports), but lately he's taken a keen interest in some of my things...twice he's been caught looking at Victoria's Secret catalogs and has also taken a liking to my Brazilian Butt Lift video info packet. He gets a kick out of commercials where women are wearing underwear or very short shorts he thinks are underwear. When I'm looking at magazines, he gets very interested. I had the discussion with him...he did volunteer that he liked looking at the pretty girls and he left it at that, but I told him that although it was great, he needed to understand that they were grown-up things. But still, he's interested. I hope he doesn't try looking up any one's skirt or grabbing any one's hind quarters. His new word is also, "Sure." That's his answer for everything and it cracks me up.

Charlotte has come a long way in the last three months. She's using words like "please" (when she wants food), "Jack", "shoes", "cookie", "Dada", "puppy", and "kitty kitty". "Mama" has just recently made an appearance in her growing vocabulary. I've never seen anyone with so much joy in her spirit. Seeing me or hubs sends her into a frenzy of excitement. Climbing onto the TV speakers, pulling things off the counter, unloading drawers, dancing on top of the magazine rack - always brings a smirk or a giggle. My trash can has a permanent home on top of the counter (apparently I need to invest in bungee cords for the lid?). Between Charlotte and the dog, I can't keep either one out of it. I've caught her biting an egg shell, eating a cookie, and scattering old papers across the floor...right out of the trash. This happens in seconds while I'm no more than three feet away. She wants to jump on the couch, pull on Christmas ornaments (hence the reason the tree is decorated only 2/3 of the way), and stand on anything she can use as a stool. She recently figured out that she can use the couch as leverage to grab ornaments that were previously out of reach. I've had to move chairs and benches to the basement, put things on top of other things...just to keep her climbing to a minimum. My biggest fret is that she will catch one of the 1000 necklaces she is wearing and 1. choke herself 2. tangle her leg in it and twist something in a really wonky direction or 3. fall from said pinnacle. My little gal, the daredevil.

I've been thinking of revamping the blog. I heart talking about the kids, but also want to make it a little more exciting...stay tuned to whether or not I actually pull it off or come up with anything brilliant!

Charlotte

Oh, Miss Charlotte. As we near your first birthday, I want to weep. How have we already gotten this far? You are a woman to be reckoned with...a mind of your own, a heart as big as the sky, a sense of humor the size of the ocean. My little gal...nothing like your older brother, yet perfectly fit to him, the yen to his yang. I never worried about him - he was a baby you barely had to keep an eye on, hardly ever into mischief (I think I am remembering this right). I can't take my eyes off of you. You're scampering up the steps, trying to climb the baby gate, wrangling out of the harness in a shopping cart - turned around backwards standing up - much to the horror of other shoppers. You're grabbing fistfuls of dog food, playing in the toilet, pulling paper out of the printer, knocking over my entire jewelry box that stands taller than you. You're opening drawers and emptying the contents. Cooking dinner requires clean up on the counters and then on the floor as I gather oven mitts, cutting boards, dish towels, and pans. We go through the routine every morning as I get ready for work - I take out the harmful items pre-Charlotte, and when it's all said & done, I'm putting back headbands, brushes, toothpaste, floss, curling irons, band-aids. Clothes folded in baskets are strewn about the floor in the blink of an eye. Grass, acorns, dirt, leaves, sand, shoes...into your mouth in a split second. We tell you "no, no" and you laugh and run away! You laugh, blow raspberries, and yell. You yell to be heard, you yell when you're not getting your way, getting attention, or when you want more food. You are a piggy! You eat and eat, and just when I think you're stuffed, you make room for dessert.

My sweetie...drinking out of sippy cups already - and trying to steal Jack's too. Wearing big girl jeans that are so cute my heart leaps. Wearing pigtails and sometimes big brother's hand-me-downs that are too precious to get rid of, the ones I can't bear to let go. Loving your blankie, stuffed animals, my scarves, pillows, anything you can snuggle with. Hugging and kissing Jack, making kissing noises instead of giving real ones and pointing at your mouth when I ask you where your nose is. You can't sit still long enough to drink your milk...a drink & roll on the floor, throw the cup down, run a few laps and come back for more. You're busy, busy, busy and so very important. Entertaining us all with your head banging and dancing. Your blonde hair growing and growing, blue eyes shining...teensy little feet that carry you around the house - flitting like a little bug on your chubby legs. You, my little lady, are perfect.

Oh, my babies are growing so fast. Yesterday was preschool play day/orientation for Jack. He's so big and grown-up. So proud of his backpack embroidered with his initials that he wore it around the house half the night when he first got it. So imagine my (sort of) happiness when today he wouldn't let me go. Held tight in that little classroom even while watching a few boys play with a giant car wash (I can't believe he resisted this), a play-doh station, blocks, a kitchen, and more. I finally coaxed him down as I watched for a few minutes, then promised to return after the parent meeting. Dad was long gone - maybe he had the right idea, but I couldn't steal away while he wasn't looking. He'd be crushed. I came back after the meeting to find him cutting guitars out of play-doh. This morning he asked, "Am I going to school today?". He's ready. I'm not. I think he's going to be fine. I'm not. I dread this - how can it be time for this already? And here we are just a month and a half out from Charlotte's first birthday. I look old, harsh, and tired. I look ugly and feel it. Gross. Is this what happens after kids? When age 33 is creeping in? I don't feel old. Should have a large hump on my back? I'm sure I'm not alone, but holy hell, it sucks and I'm not sure what to do about it. Go back to blond? Because that will cure everything - including the swarm of puberty that's decided to hit my face.

So, speaking of 33, hubby and I are taking a little birthday weekend vacay to visit friends in Dallas. I need this. Oh, how I need this. Not only will it be a chance for me to attempt a make out with John Mayer (outdoor concert - yay), but a chance for me to rest, chill, have an adult conversation without Jack bursting in with, "Mom, let's listen to the baseball song. Mom, watch this. Mom, come see what I did - close your eyes! I want some milk. Can I lay in your bed? I'm not tired..." I know I signed up for it, but again, I need this to feel sane again. I need to have cocktails and not worry that I'll have to get up in the night. I need to go a day a just lay by the pool without having to catch someone, watch a cannonball, carry another one. I do love all of it, I just need a break. Two more weeks and I'll have it. Two more weeks and football/reffing will be in full force with hubby and I'm definitely going to need recharged batteries to get through it.

How did this post get to be about me? It should be about the kiddos - and how the other night after I'd put Charlotte down, sweet Jack said, "You want to share a bowl of ice cream, mommy?" Reason #4,501,932 that I love this kid. He kept saying, "Me first", each time I'd try to take a bite. And he's so good (generally) to his baby sister. She is kissing now and they kiss all of the time. They laugh in the tub and he gives her a beard with the bubbles that she tries to eat. She screams endlessly and ends each one with a big raspberry. She kicks water like crazy and eats some more bubbles. He holds her arms (slash drags her) and is so proud as she steps along with him. She will be walking soon and any peace of mind I had will be gone. She's already into cabinets and drawers...unloading dish towels, plastic Dillons bags, pots, cutting boards. The other day as I reached for dog food at the store she stood up and turned around in the seat of the cart. And she was buckled. The buckle means nothing - just ask the high chair. Next, she will figure out how to maneuver out of her car seat and be climbing into my lap while I'm driving. She.is.ornery.

I love my kiddos. Posting this has made me feel slightly more attractive because talking about them makes me happy and I leave you all with a big smile on my face.




And finally...can you tell who's who? A favorite pastime of babies & kittens at our house:

Wow...seems I took an extended vacation from blogging. Completely unintended - most days I sit and think about what I'm going to write about, or try to remember little things, and it just doesn't happen. Seems after the kiddos have gone to bed, I usually am cleaning up or just too darn tired to sit down at the computer. So I'll put my work hours to good use this morning.

The only problem with waiting so long between posts is that 1. I have too much information stored, and 2. I don't write any of it down, and then forget most of it and wonder what the hell I'm going to write when I finally sit down to blog, and 3. The blog usually winds up being hideously long - as this one is shaping up to be.

Jack is getting ready to start preschool. I found myself buying school clothes and uttering the words "school supplies". I mean, I feel like my mom was just purchasing a Trapper Keeper for me, and now I'm buying glue and animal crackers for Jack. For now, I'm putting up a strong front, but when I see him strolling off with his backpack, the floodgates might open. (I'm getting optimistic in my near 33 year-old age!). I am finally going to break out the flashcards to start with numbers & letters. His imagination runs wild like his voice - I think his teacher is in for a real surprise and may need to invest in some tape or a muzzle...the kid can talk...and talk and talk...and lately has been so whiny! I'm not sure what the deal is...I'm getting better at talking him out of the whining vs. throwing a fit myself, I think.

Charlotte is taking swimming lessons and is loving it! She sticks her face in and laughs and laughs as she jumps in from the side of the pool. She's standing on her own a bit and cruising all over the house. She crawls faster than I can run and is into EVERYTHING. It's funny how different the kids are. I never worried about a lot with Jack, which could have been just beginner's ignorance, but Charlotte is in to light sockets, cords, daring herself to crawl headfirst down the stairs, hands in toilet, emptying drawers...She cracks herself up constantly - spitting out her food while she blows raspberries, dancing to anything that makes noise, and squirming right off the table when I'm trying to change a diaper or put clothes on. She is also getting tooth #5 and she can still barely wear shoes. She's finally able to wear 0-3 month shoes. It's shaping up to look like we may not be able to share shoes after all...sad.

We also got a new kitten - courtesy of Jack. He fell in love with her at the in-law's house and we couldn't say no. Jack's name selection was Woo Foo, but we decided on Sasha (a nod to the former Jayhawk). Woo Foo is her middle name. She's a dolly and already completely owns the dogs.

Hubby has been coaching baseball like a madman (which makes me think of Mad Men, which leads me to Jon Hamm, which leads me to love). Today, his boys play in the state title game! Yahoo! Unfortunately, the powers that be set it up so that state baseball was in the most ridiculous spot on earth, 4 1/2 hours away and the Gordon clan could not go. Ultimate fail on behalf of the American Legion, but needless to say, I'm cheering on the inside from work today.

I have been hideous at taking pictures lately - mostly because my camera batteries are dead and I keep forgetting to buy new ones. I need to be better - and I also need a high-powered camera (high on my b-day wish list). I want a serious camera that takes a gazillion pictures a second. I literally want to sit around click, click, clicking away while the kids are doing their thing. Pictures will come soon. Love to all!

I was just thinking today of all the quirky little things my bears do. I know everyone does them, but today - just for posterity, I guess - I wanted to list them.

Jack:
1. He rubs his baby (blankie) on his face when he drinks milk. He also is known to pull up his pant legs and shirt so that the silky side of his big blankie (father to Baby) can touch his skin.
2. He loves his blankets to be cold and likes us to shake them out so that they get cool. He is very cranky pants if his blankies get sat on and get hot. What a nut!
3. He cannot be bothered in the morning until after his jolt of morning java..aka milk. Sort of like me and not talking until after I've showered.
4. He remembers EVERYTHING. Six months after the fact, he will remember minute details of random encounters.
5. He always puts his feet under my legs or between them - even if we are under the covers.
6. He has to have his closet doors closed at night. I'm not sure if this is a fear of what lurks in their dark corners or if he is just anal like me. Both?

Charlotte:
1. She fake coughs because it gets our attention and because she gets a huge kick out of it.
2. In between bites of food, she chews on her thumb.
3. She pants when she wants me to hold her - and tries not to laugh while doing it.
4. Her yellow blankie is already her favorite to sleep with.
5. When I lay her in bed, she immediately rolls to the exact same spot every time - curled into a ball on her left side with her head touching the bumper pad.
6. She loves spatulas. A future chef?

The kiddos have been swimming and both love the water. Summer is in full swing with baseball (bat boy pics to come), heat, and house projects. We are all busy but loving life and everything that goes along with it.