Temper, Temper

Um, wow. I think Little Man just had his first toddler temper tantrum. He's 11 months old, so he must be testing his growing independence and strength.

I got home from work today and heard him fussing in his crib. Apparently, he didn't sleep well today and was a bit worse for wear.

I went to pick him up and he proceeded to cry, shout, flail his arms and legs wildly, climb up me, lay down, and suck his thumb for the next hour. At that moment, I think I would have gladly taken at least another year of the newborn phase to bypass this tantrum one. It was ugly!

We walked, sang, jostled, smiled at, and cuddled him to no avail. Was it teeth bothering him? Diaper wet? Missing mommy cuddles? Hungry? Tired? All of the above? We're not sure, but we tried it all just in case. He finally calmed down, ate, and went to bed early. We survived, but barely.

It's funny because a lot of my friends have older babies and they've been down this road before. I've listened to their stories, advice, and stored it away for a later date. But, at that moment, my mind was completely blank. I couldn't remember a thing they had said. All I wanted was to comfort my little guy and make the crying stop.

Another Exercise Update...

So. Sore knee or not, I'm determined to shed the last of this weight.

Since I've been sidelined from Boot Camp, I've walked a 5K and (slowly) started running. I've done three one-mile runs near our house and my knee feels great. I'm definitely losing inches (my clothes are definitely baggier) and several acquaintances have remarked that I look great. Yay!

I considered signing up for another Boot Camp, but I'm worried that I'll do permanent damage to my knee. I think I'm going to skip it for now and continue running a few times a week and eating healthy.

According to my intake at the gym, I only need to lose 5 pounds of fat, but I'm supposed to add 19 pounds of muscle. I still can't fit into several of my pre-pregnancy pants, but I'm starting to rationalize and tell myself maybe they were too small anyway. My body is finally starting to get back to its original shape.

The holidays won't be helping much, but I finally feel like I've been successful. Now, if only Santa would bring me an all-expenses-paid shopping spree to replace some of those old clothes!

Karma?

I was having one of those days.

A terrifically wonderful, on-top-of-it-all day where everything -- school, home, Little Man -- seemed to be juggled perfectly. It's not often that these days crop up, so I was truly enjoying the moment.

I worked late tutoring at an after-school program and stopped by the grocery store on the way home to pick up ingredients for pasta with meat sauce. As I was walking in the parking lot, I was mentally congratulating myself for managing our hectic life so well. The house was in relative* order, everyone was fed and cared for, I had a great day at work, and after dinner I was headed to a jewelry party. The day was packed full of responsibility, but also fun.

Then, just as I approached my car one of the bags started to squeeze the circulation out of my fingers and -- wait for it -- splat! The bag containing the jar of spaghetti sauce -- of course! -- dropped on the concrete spilling glass and sauce over everything. I managed to scoop up the rest of the groceries and get them into the car and home without further incident. The Smartest Man Alive was ordered back to the grocery store to retrieve a new jar of spaghetti sauce AND assemble the rest of dinner.

So, I guess it wasn't a *perfect* day, but I'm still counting my blessings.

*I should say I have low standards for "order."

The Grass is Always Greener....

Little Man might need another moniker for this site. I'm thinking maybe Tornado Toddler or Baby Bruiser...something more fitting for his destructive nature.

As he cruises through our living room, he snatches magazines, books, random toys, shoes and precedes to DESTROY them. Or at least attempt to. The magazines and books succumb fairly easy to his crawling, grabbing, eating, ripping attack. Shoes and toys are a bit tougher, but it won't be long until he manages to destroy a big-ticket item.

This afternoon, I looked over at The Smartest Man Alive and said, "I really liked the stage where he was just sitting. Old enough to do some stuff, but not mobile." Truth be told, everyone with kids had warned us our relatively easy lifestyle was about to be shattered once Little Man got moving. The Smartest Man Alive scoffed at my statement, because I was really PUSHING to get Little Man crawling. Because of his torticollis, he needed to crawl to build up his neck, arms, and hand muscles. I was very concerned about this -- probably annoyingly so.

But, now I wish for the days we he sat happily in the living room and played with his toys, using his Boppy to support him. I've loved all of his stages, but I'm missing some of the babyness that he used to have. He's looking more and more like a little boy and he'll be walking soon -- needing his mama less and less.

What stage do you miss?

Workin' for the Weekend

This week isn't getting any prettier.

Apparently, I've got some bad karma coming around my way. I went to the doctor today and he said it looks like I've irritated a (long, hard-to-pronounce) nerve in both my knees. So, take anti-inflammatories (already doing that) and exercise moderately (no Boot Camp).

Fabulous.

Also, Little Man was mildly bratty at the doctor's office and quite clingy. Have you ever laid on a doctor's table with a 20-pound infant clinging to your chest for dear life while a doctor examines you? Guess I can check that off my to-do list.

I'm going to compensate by watching trashy TV and ordering take-out (for the second time this week).

Grumble, grumble, grumble...

The weather's crappy, the Smartest Man Alive has the flu, and I'm pretty sure the doctor is going to tell me that I have to quit Boot Camp. So I'm grumpy. If you prefer not to read my grumblings, feel free to pass on this post.

SO. This stinking Florida weather is about to drive me insane. If it's not SWELTERING with 1000% humidity (you read that right, 1000%) it's rainy and gloomy.

To top off this depressing climate situation, the Smartest Man Alive has been diagnosed with the flu -- not the swine variety, but still. I'll spare you the gory details, but it's not pretty. He's quarantined (in our bedroom) until Saturday and off work until Monday. Absolutely no contact with the baby, obviously.

But this whole no-contact rule will not stop me from fretting over the various scenarios where germs sneak out of our bedroom and miraculously infect Little Man. I will probably spend the next two weeks saying: Does he feel warm to you? Is he eating enough? Is he playing normally? Too tired? Too awake? yada, yada, yada.

Anything else to complain about? Oh yeah. My knee. It's freaking killing me and I haven't been back to Boot Camp since Wednesday. I'm pretty sure it's going to be off-limits for heavy exercise and maybe some physical therapy. I have my doctor's appointment tomorrow, so we'll see.

I'm going to go look at pictures of rainbows or something to cheer myself up...Or maybe I'll just thank my lucky stars that Little Man is still taking an evening nap.

Updates

Ugh. I haven't posted lately because I just haven't had the time. Lame excuse, I know. This Boot Camp is really kicking my butt and managing a one-hour, grueling work-out with various house duties, dinner-making and general life-maintaining has not been easy. (Thanks to the Smartest Man Alive for picking up my slack.)

I do feel a lot better and more accomplished since I started Boot Camp. The first week I cried (seriously, I told you I hated exercise, right?!) but it's gotten much easier. I'm army-crawling under nets, running with jugs filled with sand, and lunging/crunching/ab-busting like my hair is on fire. So there.

During the course of last week, I did hurt my knees somehow. I'm not talking scraped, like ligaments or tendons or something REAL. I have an appointment with the doctor on Wednesday, but until then I'm sidelined. I hope he can give me a shot or something and send me on my way. I'm going to be seriously BUMMED if I can't finish this camp.

We went to the Pumpkin Patch last weekend and don't I have the cutest kid?

This adorable picture almost makes up for the fact that we only got FOUR trick-or-treaters. Seriously, what's up with that and what am I supposed to do with all that candy we bought?