We all made it to Belize. It was quite the journey though.
It started by aiming to leave the house by 6:15 am to head to the airport. Adam is notoriously slow… so we left 20 min later than planned.
3 min before we got to the parking lot, Lamb started vomiting profusely all over herself and the carseat. It was SO MUCH. And she wasn’t happy about it.
I changed her as fast as I could in the Continue reading

Just a freak out 2 days before heading out of the country

So Adam, Lamb, and I are headed to Belize Wednesday morning for a family wedding. You know, remote island Belize.

On Saturday morning, Lamb wakes up with a cough. She sleeps horribly Saturday night. Then last night, she sleeps even more horribly (up consistently until 1am. I gave her benadryl at midnight to see if that would help her sleep). AND, she starts running fever last night too.


Cue complete and total meltdown freakout inside my head right now. I mean, I was already stressing enough about packing. Now I’ve got a sick kid. Traveling with a sick kid?!

So, I’ve scheduled a doctor’s appointment for this afternoon to rule out the flu. Also perhaps to get antibiotics in case her ears get worse (I’ve heard flights with ear infections are horrific).

Sometimes, as a mom, I want to murder my spouse. I just, I am so sick of parenting being the whole “mom responsibility thing.” Like, Adam wonders why I run around like a headless chicken sometimes but that’s because I AM RESPONSIBLE FOR REMEMBERING EVERYTHING. Case in point:

I was up with Lamb until 1am (I probably only got 4 hours of solid sleep last night).

I am getting ready to wake Adam up so I can leave for work when Lamb then wakes up and vomits in her crib from coughing. So, I have to get her out of vomit soaked outfit. She had BOTH her lovies in her crib. One was vomit covered, the other had some vomit on it but not a lot. I knew she’d freak if I washed them both at the same time, so I throw her sleep sack, crib sheet, and vomit covered lovie in the washer on speed wash.

I go wake up Adam. I tell him Lamb was up all last night, she’s sick. She can’t go to school today. I’ve got a couple apointments at work that I cannot miss this morning. I will come home right after.  I tell him lovie is in the wash, and the other one she has still has some vomit on it.

I leave for work. I call my mother. My mother graciously agrees to keep Lamb today. I call Adam, say, please take her to my mom’s.

1 hour later, text message from my mother: “What size shoe does Lamb wear?”

Me: “oh JESUS, did Adam forget to bring shoes?!”

Mom: “Bingo”

Me: “and did he bring the clean lovie or the one with a little vomit on it?”

Mom: “little vomit”

Me: “!@(&!*!!*@()$*$))%R”   really the guy couldn’t remember SHOES or put the laundry in the dryer on speed dry?! Seriously?! And I have to pick her up from my mom’s and take her to the doctor this afternoon.



So, yeah. I’m not happy. I’m tired. I’m worried.

Relational Body Image

Relational body image (that’s what I’m calling it) is such a strange thing. I mean, I suppose the concept isn’t that strange, but the experience itself is. My body image is, okay. It’s not great. I’m working on changing my image of it as well as improving my overall health. At home, I often see lumps and rolls and an overweight body. (Technically, I’m overweight for my height anyhow). This past weekend I had a girls weekend with one of my best friends. We stayed in a hotel in town, just the two of us. CHILD FREE. It was GLORIOUS. I don’t think I can emphasize that word enough. We slept. We stayed in bed and watched tv. We drank wine. We got pedicures. We did whatever the heck we wanted. It was so freaking phenomenal. We’re definitely doing it again. Anyway, my friend is very overweight. (She probably would need to lose 100 pounds). Anyway, what I mean by relational body image is that after a day being around her, I started looking in the mirror and seeing this completely different body. I felt fit. I felt good about myself. I felt like I looked like a normal healthy person. I actually found myself feeling shocked at the appearance of my body. Had my body changed from Friday to Saturday? No. The contrast perhaps from her body to my body- created this completely different view. As soon as I went home though for a day, it was like my brain reverted back.

Next week we leave for Belize for a family wedding. Lots of time on the beach. I am trying to have an #effYourBeautyStandards attitude. I love the movement. I’m bringing my rolls and cellulite with me and I am going to have a god damn good time on the beach and not be worried about what anyone things. How sad is that to miss out on truly experiencing every part of an incredible vacation because I’m worried about the size of my thigh? That’s ridiculous. I don’t want to be a part of that. I’m refusing to be a part of that. I’m going to enjoy my daughter. I’m going to live fully and completely. I will work on looking in the mirror and saying “I love you” to myself, and thanking my body for its health and all it does for me on a daily basis.