Here’s The Skinny

29 Nov 2012 4 Comments

by Natalie in What's a mom to do?

OK. I give in. I am going to have to start working out for the first time in my life. I thought my body would magically shrink back to its pre-four-kids stage, but sadly, it has not.

My ballooning buns, thighs and middle have been stretched to near bursting four separate times. I’m ready to slap them back into shape. Or at least close to into shape.

I’m not saying I want to fit into my college sized-0 jeans, but I would like to not bulge out of my pre pregnancy pants. And I’d like to feel good about myself.

Now the questions are: What am I going to do, and when?

I want to work out in peace – not while my kids nag me to death or beat the crap out of each other. I imagine it will take all my strength to simply inhale and exhale as I start my body-shaping quest.

I can’t worry about screaming at my kids when all I can do is focus on breathing.

I am definitely not a morning person so I don’t know if I could regularly roll out of bed before my kids do to get the job done. And heaven knows I am usually exhausted by the time they go to bed. I don’t know if I would have enough steam to work out then.

I’ve been told by a number of friends that they actually feel more energized now that they are in a workout routine.

Is that true? Can I believe them?

True or not, I am going to have to take a risk.

I have an exercise bike in my basement topped with a thin layer of dust. Maybe I’ll start by wiping it off and hopping on.

But I’d love other suggestions.

I am scared to death to work out in a gym. I’m worried I’ll sign up and pay for a membership I’ll never use. I’m also worried that people will see my bright-pink sweaty workout face and wonder if I am going to have a heart attack.

Now I know that I am not huge. But I do have to admit that I secretly hoped each of my babies + my afterbirth = at least 25 pounds.

Seriously though, I’m less than 10 pounds away from my ideal weight. And being able to nurse my fourth little baby has definitely helped my middle shrink back sooner than it did after I had my third baby when I couldn’t nurse.

But I still don’t feel happy with myself. And I know I am not in shape.

I’m not saying I’m interested in running a half marathon alongside my husband, but I want to be able to chase my babies across an open field or hike beside them on a mountain trail without ending up with my head between my knees, on the verge of passing out.

This is going to challenging for me. I honestly would rather sit my butt on the couch than do any form of exercise. But like I said before, sitting on the couch isn’t working. I’ve got to quit wishing and dreaming and kick it into gear.

Thanks

22 Nov 2012 1 Comment

by Natalie in From My Heart

Today is my least favorite day of the year, and yet this year feels different.

Usually I don’t even want to think about the turkey-day festivities I despise – like cooking too long, eating too long and watching TV too long.

But this year I’ve tried to block those things out of my mind.

Rather than dwell on the fact that a majority of the people in this nation are going to gorge themselves beyond their own physical capabilities, I have tried to focus on what the day should really be. Not a day of feasting, but a day of thanks, a day to remember all of life’s blessings.

As many of my friends have posted thanks daily on Facebook this month, I have felt a little guilty for not doing the same. I have several things to be grateful for that I don’t want to take for granted.

For example, I am extremely grateful that I didn’t go completely insane while carrying my fourth child this spring. Many times I was on the brink on insanity, ready to jump off a cliff into crazy land, but somehow I made it through.

Not only am I grateful that I didn’t go nuts while pregnant, I will be forever grateful that my fourth little baby boy came out kicking and screaming.

After losing our third son at 37 weeks, I know that pregnancy doesn’t always end with the mother holding a living, breathing bundle of joy. Yet, for me, this time it did!

And although I complain about how little sleep I get these days and how my baby’s diapers are too expensive, I couldn’t imagine my world without him. He has brought more joy into my life than I ever thought possible.

I am thankful I get to raise three beautiful boys here on earth. Even though sometimes I wish it were four, three is so nice.

Sometimes they drive me batty, but other times my little boys are tender-hearted gentlemen. They know just what to say and do to put a smile on my face and melt my heart.  They are the reason I get up in the morning.

I am also thankful that I have several good, true friends. The kind who don’t care if I wear holey sweats, no make-up and ratty old slippers. The kind who I dare open my front door to despite what my house looks like inside. The kind who’ll let my kids play for hours at a time, day after day so I can catch a break or cook dinner in peace.

I have friends I can always count on to have sugar, milk or eggs when I run out. And friends don’t look down on me when I sometimes snap at my kids.

Some of my best friends are in my own family. I can’t go a single day without talking to my mom at least three times. She’s there to answer my cooking, cleaning and sewing questions and will always watch my boys with just a moment’s notice. I am thankful for her endless love and support.

I am thankful for the love and support from all of my family. I have family members who would go anywhere and do anything for me. Family members who have laughed with me, cried with me and carried me when I didn’t want to go on.

Most of all, I am thankful for my best friend, my husband. I am thankful that he’ll love me no matter how crazy I am. That he works extra hard so I can sit at home caring for our babies and trying hard not to fail too many times as a housewife.

I’m thankful he’ll eat burnt grilled cheese sandwiches and ignore the thick dust layer atop our wooden furniture. I’m thankful he’ll help me fold laundry and bath our boys at night. Thankful he’ll mow our lawn and take out our trash.

We’ve been through a lot together and I am thankful he always stands by my side.

I know I could list many more things that I am thankful for; material objects or modern day luxuries I wouldn’t want to live without. But today I want to focus on the things that I couldn’t live without – my friends and family.

Thank heavens I don’t have to face this world alone.

This year I’m going to spend my turkey day appreciating those who surround me.  Today I’m grateful I get to spend a grand meal with the ones I love.

Diaper Drama

15 Nov 2012 12 Comments

by Natalie in Failed Housewife, What's a mom to do? Tags: , , ,

I am so sick of crappy diapers. And I’m referring to quality, not quantity. 

I can’t tell you how many times in the past week my 4-month-old has leaked through his padded diaper. I am getting sick of it.

When he was a newborn I used only the really nice Huggies and Pampers. But the past two times I have bought a store-brand box of diapers because, let’s be honest, they are half the price.

But the consequences have been dangerous. I never know when I am going to be somewhere and pooh will seep through his shirt.

It’s getting to the point where I might as well buy cloth diapers. I mean I have to rinse waste out his onesies anyway. I might as well strap a padded, cloth triangle to his tush.

I will admit that recently I threw a onesie away because I was not in the mood to scrub it out. I was shopping with him late at night when it happened and I am not ashamed to confess that I threw that soiled shirt into a Wal-Mart trashcan.

I know my other boys leaked through their diapers occasionally, but I don’t remember it being this bad. Maybe it’s because my youngest has several spare rolls around his middle, making the diaper difficult to cinch.

But I just bought a big box of the next size up and they are still leaking. And no matter how tight I get it, these cheap diapers always seem to have a slight gap in the back.

In my defense, I don’t wait to change him. If I know he needs to be changed I do it quickly – most of the time it is still too late.

I guess I might have to break down and buy name-brand diapers again. It’s either that or keep on cleaning up crap. I just wish decent diapers weren’t so stinking expensive.

O-Bomb-A

08 Nov 2012 3 Comments

by Natalie in What's a mom to do?

During the past week I have loved hearing my children tell me who to vote for in the presidential election. They had a lot easier time than I did deciding on a candidate. Apparently it was a lot more black and white for them.

One of my boys told me I needed to vote for Obama because he was more handsome than Romney.

The other said I shouldn’t vote for Romney because he looks like a moustache-less James Jonah Jameson. And since Jameson, the newspaper editor from the Spider-Man series, isn’t nice to the friendly neighborhood hero, Romney didn’t deserve my vote.

I was amazed that my little boys were not only aware of who the candidates were, they had an opinion – albeit superficial – on who they would vote for. And they weren’t the only ones.

On Tuesday morning, one of my friends told me her 4-year-old son said she couldn’t vote for Obama. When asked why, he said because O-bomb-a “throws bombs.”

Four years ago, that same friend’s 8-year-old daughter nearly stole a political yard sign from my front lawn because she supported an opposing candidate.

For my little boys, it all came down what the candidates looked like.

But rest assured, my presidential vote wasn’t cast based upon the physical appearance of the candidates. And although I laugh about why my children said I should vote for a particular person, I love that they were talking about the election.

I am sure my children have listened to my husband and me talk back and forth about politics and have soaked up pieces from our conversations.

They were very interested in what was going on and were devastated when I told them they couldn’t vote.

My four-year-old had been telling people for weeks that he was voting for Obama. Which is a dangerous thing to say while living in the bright-red republican state of Utah. But I guess a cute strawberry blonde preschooler can get away with it.

Although my friend volunteered to watch my children while I hit the poles, my oldest two boys wouldn’t stand for it. If they didn’t get to vote, they at least had to come with when I voted.

They literally ran into our polling location – a nearby church – excited and energetic about being part of the political process. My four and six year olds may not have a clue about the issues of the election, but they still wanted a right to choose.

They stood by my side while I cast my ballot then walked out of the church heads held high as they sported red circle “I Voted” stickers.

As a parent that made me proud.

Let’s just hope in 12 and 14 years, they feel the same way.

Sentimental About Skeletons

01 Nov 2012 3 Comments

by Natalie in Dealing with Death, What's a mom to do? Tags: , , , ,

Halloween – The dark and twisted time of year when blood and gore rules. When snakes, spiders and other creepy crawlies are considered festive holiday décor. When monsters, goblins, zombies and more stalk the streets in the name of fun.

I’ve never given much thought to haunted houses, walking dead or other traditional scary Halloween staples. Until last week when my 4-year-old started sobbing over a skeleton – a skeleton that reminded him of his deceased little brother.

I was making 3D paper coffins – cute black-and-green ones with big RIP letters on top. My second oldest son watched quietly with fascination as I used a machine to cut them out.

Then he started asking questions.
“What’s a coffin?” came first. I told him it was something that we use to bury dead people in.

He watched for a little while longer and helped me punch out the cuttings. Then I started cutting out the skeletons that I planned to put in the coffins. As we were punching those out he held one up and said, “Can we name this skeleton Luca?”

It caught me totally off guard that he wanted to name one of the skeletons after his baby brother who died two years ago.

How did he think of that? How did he make the connection between his brother and the 6-inch paper skeleton he held in his hand?

We decorated Luca’s headstone a couple of weeks ago for Halloween. After that my 4-year-old told me he wanted to see his brother. That he wanted us to get him out of his grave.

I tried to gently explain to him that his baby brother wouldn’t look like he used to. That he isn’t in his body anymore.

Maybe that’s where this skeleton thing came from.

No matter where it came from it made me sad. I told him that I didn’t want to name one of our paper skeletons after his brother; that I didn’t want to think of Luca as a skeleton.

And quite honestly I don’t. I hate to even think of my baby being in the ground. And as sick and twisted as it sounds, I have had thoughts of the state of his buried body before. Thoughts that I try to push from my mind the instant they arrive.

But kids are a lot more matter of fact. I am sure my 4-year-old has thought of his brother as a skeleton. He was innocently connecting his brother with the Halloween decoration we were making and wanted to name it the same.

When I told him no, he started sobbing. He kept saying, “I miss Luca,” over and over. It totally broke my heart.

It makes me sad to think that my children will grow up their whole lives looking at dead things differently than most children. When I was a kid, no one I knew had died. I was 17 years old before I first saw a close loved one pass away. My grandpa died my senior year of high school, and he was 90.

My sons have known someone who died since they were 3 and 1 years old.

Luckily, I have amazing pictures of our little Luca to remind us what he is really like. After my son was crying for his brother, I printed a small 3 by 5 inch portrait of Luca off for him from the computer. It’s his own personal copy now that he can carry around when he misses his little friend.

As for the skeletons, I finished my craft and stuffed the coffins with candy before giving them out as gifts.

I never thought I would feel sentimental about a skeleton, but I’ll never look at the bony skinny guys the same way again. Not even the smiling plastic glow-in-the-dark ones.

They’ll forever remind me of what they actually represent, former human lives.