control.

This picture was made possible by control top panties!

that & the elastic band holding the jeans together...

"Kaley!" you exclaim, "Why would a vivacious 26 year old like yourself need to purchase ghetto spanx from the sale pile in Nordstrom Rack?"  That's easy.  My skin shelf.  I made a handy illustration to help make my point.

Okay.  You got me.  I went a little crazy in picmonkey and added a festive sombrero and ethnic mustache.  Ignore that.  Check out my skin shelf, I'm not even in my last two months of pregnancy here!  That skin stretched a lot further.  It didn't go back y'all.  It didn't go back.  Now it just sits on my not so taut abs and threatens to eat the tops of my underwear all day. Control top panties solved all that.

Oh, to all my readers out there who have not been impregnated, I'm glad to have this skin shelf for Owen, and I would EVEN get pregnant again... believe it or not!

Adios!

we're back!

What Up Y'all?!  We're back!  Aren't you relieved?  A break was needed from blogging.  I'm back in the south.  It's still summer here, as it is 6 months out of the year.  Stay tuned for blogs about Owen's first birthday party, Jessica Simpson on Weight Watchers, and our shenanigans down south.

teeny baby update.

I still have a baby.  He's one now.  I'll blog it up soon.  Promise.

baby weight.

The term "baby weight."
According to modern medicine a person who is a healthy weight before getting pregnant should gain 25-30 lbs.  Only 7 of which consist of maternal fat stores.  So, gaining 50 lbs was... ungainly?  Yet, ironically, it's those last 7 lbs that I struggle to shed.  However, this is not baby weight.  No.  This is "You're lazy, you eat french fries, did you really just consume that much cookie dough?!" weight.
This is my apology to Owen.  I'll stop blaming you for the extra weight.  Let's be honest, I was looking for any excuse to stop dieting, and you were a really good one.  It's not your fault.
Now I'm off to try and lose my "food baby" weight.

things i've done learnt.

Owen is almost one.  Twelve months.  He can do a lot, like throw things with herculean strength.  He can eat lint and even Cheerios.  Owen is very adept at crawling and high five-ing and slapping the cat in the face (only when she deserves it).  Some things he can't do.  For instance, he can't do algebra.  He doesn't have many words and he rarely dances.  I can't get him to hold his sippy cup even though I know he can.  Oh, and I can't convince him that his toys are infinitely more fun than the bookshelf.  With Owen reaching his one year milestone I too am reaching one.  Before Owen I was a naive albeit skinnier parenting novice.  Now I say "Parenting?  Old hat!"  I thought I'd do something original and make a list of things I've learned and things that have changed about me as I became a mom in my first year of parenting.

1. Showers are unimportant.  Don't do today what you can put off until tomorrow.  Wash your face.  Brush your hair.  You've showered!  
2. A clean shirt is a shirt that has no visible stains.  Sure you may smell bad, but the pee has already dried and it's sterile anyway.  Why change?  
3. Dressing up consists of wearing pants that button.  I'm  only going to Walmart.  Who needs real pants?  Real pants are for Target.  
4. Use a hair band for when you can not button your pants.  I still can't button mine.  Use the hair band.  You'll thank me later.  (Or maybe I'm just enabling myself)
5. You're not as diametrically opposed to pajama jeans as you should be.  
6. Feeding yourself is hard.  Feeding yourself, the baby, the cat, and the dog is REALLY hard.  Don't feel guilty if you can't make your own baby food when the husband is under way.  
7. I knew breast feeding was important to me.  I didn't realize it was hospital stay, giant boob, 12 + months important to me.  I'll let you know the date and time of my boob job.  
8. Each month I become less worried about something terrible happening to Owen.  I'm trying to live in the moment.  It's heavy to be in charge of a human.  Your own little human baby.  
9. You'll most likely compare yourself to and resent moms that have managed to lose their baby weight.  Unless you are that mom who lost her baby weight, and in that case... I hate you.  
10. Last thing.  Being a mom will make you cry during Hallmark commercials, even if you have no soul like me.  

i hate you.

I hate my giant boob.  I really do.  It's ruining my life.

Just thought everyone should know.

If I had known that my giant boob would pull my entire rib cage out of alignment, along with my hips, constricting my diaphragm and causing shoulder pain... I would have continued to breast feed anyway.

Sorry, "It's my party I can cry if I want to" and all that.

another mom confession.

Whenever I feed Owen bananas I sing to him...

"This shhh is Bananas. B-A-N-A-N-A-S"

seriously mom?