Mamavation Monday [er, Tuesday?]

A little late, but hey, I'm new to this, and besides better late than never, right? Right.

A friend of mine listed a series of resolutions she had for the new year and one of them was Jillian's 30 Day Shred. I've never been one to make resolutions, but hey, I'll take some healthy changes any day of the year.

A month or so ago, I started doing daily workouts using the Wii Fit program; it's easy, and fun. My three year old does all the exercises next to me, which is always a plus.
And now, I've added in the daily workout from the 30 day shred video.
It's not easy, but totally worth it.

The gym scene has never really worked for me. I don't have the time, between school, work, and the kiddo. Getting someone to watch her while I take time for myself at the gym just isn't happening, so instead, the wii points me in the right direction. Either she does the exercises with me, or I do it all once she's in bed.

Another "goal" I have is to start eating healthier. Not really go on a "diet," I just want to eat what's good for me --more fruits, veggies, and eventually be able to be pop free.

Mostly, I want to feel good about myself.
One day at a time.

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your wonderwall.

& afterall, you’re my wonderwall.

Months upon months ago, we played wonderwall, by oasis, on repeat as we drove in the darkness to a friend’s house. We pulled up and sat, hand in hand, just listening to the song. He smiled, said he liked the song, that it just might be, at that moment, his favorite.

Days later, long after we should have both been tucked into bed, fast asleep, we were texting each other.
“Maybe it’s like the song says. You’re my wonderwall. You’re supposed to save me,” he said, with a smiley face. We were talking about all the hard things we’ve both been through. The decisions we’ve made, and kept making.
I thought, at the time, maybe he was just trying to make me feel better, about things.
But, he’s right. Loving someone is all about helping them. Saving them, in a way.
It’s like this; he loves me. The love he gives me, even in the randomest of ways, makes me strong. I’m here, not giving up, because of him.
And, because I’m here, he’s making choices he wouldn’t otherwise make. Hand in hand, we’re changing each other. Or rather, growing with each other.

I think, in a way, this is my first real relationship. Relationships that consist of lies, yelling, and absolute hate aren’t real.
This, being a wonderwall, being the person the other wants around most… that’s real.

I was so in love with the idea of being in love, I forgot the most important thing: it’s not being in love that matters. It’s the smile, the laughter, the looks you give each other, the way a simple hand on your shoulder or around your waist can make you feel. It’s the sound of his voice, a simple good morning babe text message.

It’s like the song says; I don’t believe that anybody feels the way I do, about him now.

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mom blogs.

I’m trying to work on some super awesome post that describes just how wonderfully smooth my life has been. It’d be a pretty nifty read, right? Right.
But, it‘s not happening. Not because nothing super awesome has happened. And not because my life hasn’t been wonderfully smooth (although wonderfully smooth doesn’t quite describe it.)
Mostly because, well, I can’t even begin to put into words how things have been. Some examples, you ask? Sure!:
For starters, the new semester started last week. This equals book buying, lots of introductions, driving [as I live a thirty minute drive--on a good day--from campus], less working, which in reality means more [school]work.
And then there’s the fact that well, the new semester means I have less time with the kid. Less time with the kid is never a fun thing, I promise. I miss her like crazy. She’s my world, and now I get some random hours of awake fun time with her. Random hours. It sucks. A lot.
I have to tell myself on a daily basis that I’m doing this not just for the fun of it, but because I want to make our lives better. I’m doing this to get us out of here. So that we can maybe get where we need to be. And so, I do it. Day in, day out.
The amazing thing is…she doesn’t love me any less.
She still kisses me good morning, and goodnight. We still have our nightly bed time story (which is never really one story, more like fifteen, or so) We pack our lunches together, and occasionally, even get to sit together and eat (all while I listen to her and her little friends talk and giggle about string cheese, monkeys, and whether spiderman or Cinderella wins--usually, for the record, spiderman wins, even among the girls) It’s fun. I love it.

Mostly, I love every second of my day with her. It makes the long classes, the crazy hectic nights, the homework…every bit is worth it, because I have her.

And now, upon re-reading this particular post, I‘ve realized this is exactly what I said it wasn‘t gonna be--it‘s a mom blog. I write about my kid.
I‘m okay with that though, because really, that‘s what I am. A mom.

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summer.

Sunshine filled days leave me with a sense of accomplishment. Like maybe, something about the day is really going my way. I smile a little more, and even my laugh is less forced.
School ended a couple weeks ago, so more of my free time has been spent entertaining Hailey. My nights no longer involve homework and textbooks, instead I'm enveloped in the boy's arms once the kid's in bed. As a result, I'm in an overall better, happier mood--all the paper writing and test studying isn't overloading me with stress.

Summer promises are keeping me on my toes- there is a lot already happening and we're intending on even more to take place.

It's some kind of make believe family- mornings are spent with strawberry flavored and cartoons. our afternoons involve picnics, the park, and sunshine warmed water. the evenings bring us cookouts, walks, and lots of sleepy cuddles.

There's twice as much to be thankful for these days--and I'm loving it.

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three.

Three years ago, I tossed and turned in the hospital bed. Sleeping was a necessity at that moment, but an impossibility, all the same. Eventually, a small amount of sleep was had, and even sooner, the morning sunshine came. The day was spent in prelabor pain. Walking barely helped, but sprite, ice chips, and eventually, the birthing ball were of some great assistance.
After much puking, it was dinner time. I was hungry, tired, and felt as though I could just fall over, dead, any second.
Most of the actual labor/pushing is gone from my memory; I was so exhausted the hours all run together. Nineteen minutes after five in the evening, I gave one last push, and a beautiful bundle of all hair was born.

There’s something to be said about the way a baby changes a mommy’s life. Not in a bad way, at all. Just, different. My whole life is different because one measly little pill didn’t take effect. Because, somewhere along the path, something clicked and, boom. I stood in a doctor’s office, while a nurse bit her lip and announced that birth control wouldn’t be necessary.
Or the next week, as I laid back on the exam table, and lifted my shirt as the lab tech used the ultrasound wand to snap pictures of my very own jellybean.

It’s different when the baby’s actually, physically, in your arms. You count the fingers and toes, over and over, smile as she looks up at you, whisper something about how beautiful she is, or how much you love her. It all changes then, really.

Everything’s different with a baby. And then, that baby grows up. And suddenly, you’ve got yourself a toddler, or in my case, a terrible two. And holy cow, talk about different.

Sometimes, change is good.

And other times, it’s the best thing, ever.

Happy birthday, little one.

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summer!

I am counting down the days, of so much.
Days til finals:
Days til work's summer schedule starts:

So, much of my life lately has been spent going in circles. It's finals time, schoolwise, so I've spent hour after hour of my "free time" trying to tie loose ends, in an attempt to ensure I pass all my classes.
On top of that, it's spring. And with spring comes tons of warm weather, which means the monkey wants to be outside, now please! It's nonstop go go go with this [almost!] three year old, I swear. If she's not playing in the background, she's wanting to go to the park, or take a walk, or ride her bike, or go do this, or that, or... really, it never ends.

In the midst of being mommy to that not so little bundle of beauty and attending classes I'd really rather not being attending, I'm also working, five days a week.

And, then, throw in the fact that, randomly, recently, I started "dating" somebody. [the term 'dating' is used loosely, because really, I'm not quite positive what we are doing..] It's a slow process, mostly because I'm so swamped with end of the semester school stuff. But, we've got feelings for each other and in the midst of conversations about such feelings, we've discovered, well, we're the definition of each others' "something different." Because of him, I smile a little more.

So, yes, when I'm asked if I'm ready for summer, my answer is most definitely a yes, complete with an exclamation point. Because, really, who wouldn't be ready to replace their schoolwork time with boyfriend time?

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mommy, wow, i'm a big kid now!

With barely a month until the little one's birthday, I find myself more amazed everyday. I find it quite hard to believe that somehow I played such a big part in creating her, in bringing her into this very world. How such a thing could happen, I'm still not sure.

She's growing like a weed. I know that's something everybody says about every kid, but it's true. She spends every other weekend with her father and when I pick her up on Sundays, I can't believe how grown up she looks, and sounds. She's so full of energy, and on top of that, she talks, a lot. She's a very inquisitive girl; her favorite word is most definitely 'why?' She's a smart little cookie [which I'm also aware every parent says about their child, but really, I'm amazed that somehow I helped make this little girl so smart!] She's learning how to spell her name, and not just that, but she can write as well. She knows how to make an H, and can muster up an a as well. She's nailed down the i [a line and dot, mommy!] and the l is pretty easy. The y's a tough one, but y'know, she's getting there.

She gets a kick out of being big enough to help with everything; turning on the washer, putting laundry in the dryer, helping with the dishes, setting the table at dinnertime, or her favorite, feeding the animals their meals. It's not even that she's big enough to help; she's so independent. She tries to do it all herself; the greatest adventure of independence thus far? Pottying. Talk about fun. [I can't even remember the last time I had to buy pullups. That, in my opinion, is ana amazing piece of awesomeness in itself!]
She has her girly side [tea time, dressup, and baby dolls] but loves the boy stuff, just as much [spiderman, army men, and bugs.] She's to the point where she's [slowly] learning how to share and take turns. We spent the evening with a friend and his little one recently, and I was quite surprised at how well she did with sharing. And, the please and thank yous? She's got it down.
It really is a neverending adventure with this one.

Bottom line, I guess, is my little baby isn't such a baby anymore. [She makes it known too; "Mommm, I'm a big kid, okay?"]

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