Wednesday, January 30, 2008

Huffing and Puffing

Perhaps 'tis a touch foolhardy to attend one's 20th high school reunion two months after giving birth, but, you know... It's what's INSIDE that counts, right? I'll still be radiant and aglow with all that new motherhood goodness, right? And that was high school! We're all grown up and mature now! Totally different times! Right?

While I refuse to be like the Hollywood starlets who bounce back to stick-figury in the days following birth, I am wholly in acceptance of the concept that I may need a little fitness assistance. I've come across these two gems:

I am feeling a bit partial to this one, if only because all three of these hairstyles have shown up in my personal repertoire during my formative years:

Does This Make Me Look Fat?

I have to say that these days, I am feeling a little less brick house and a whole lot more plain ol' HOUSE.

Though I am quite mighty mighty, I am just letting it all hang out.

Yes, I Had a Case of the Lazies

The holidays will do that to you. So will pregnancy. And relentless gray skies. BUT! I'm back! Try being pregnant and far, far away and not writing on your blog for several long weeks. People PANIC. Not to worry, folks -- all is well with li'l Peanut (who is actually more melonesque these days) and myself. Pretty darned tootin' hard to believe we've hit the eight-weeks-left mark. AYE YAY YAY CARAMBA! How can this be? It's all so strange to think about, that we will have a smiling, cooing sack of love in precisely sixty-six days. Ridic! We'll see how punctual the little tyke is. As my dear father-in-law likes to say:


Curiously, I was absent the day we covered that lesson, so I'm still trying to learn it every single day. I sure hope Peanut gets his dad's genes in that respect.

Speaking of his dad, this guy has bought an extended pass on the Daddy Train. Dude's excited! We've been getting things ready the past couple of weeks, repurposing our laundry area into Diaper Headquarters. Shelves that once held beach towels and rags are now brimming with binkies, bottles, wipes, bleach-free diapers, burp cloths, footie pj's, and one nutty stuffed turtle that plays "Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star" when you yank his neck. (Thanks for everything, Barbara!)

We bought a big waterproof foam pad for the countertop where all of the, um, "procedures" will take place. As I lovingly draped it with a soft cloth, I was reminded that Don has -- proudly so -- never changed a diaper, so I started piecing together in my head a gently worded offer for a brief training session, preceded by the request that he NOT roll his eyes even once in response to my question. It was tough, but (I think) he managed to keep his eyes fairly steady, and he thanked me for my kind offer but that he was quite confident that he could figure it out just fine.

And early the next morning when I woke up, this is what I found on the changing pad:

We may just have a wee refresher anyway.