when my husband got me onto a bike, i viewed it as the perfect opportunity to finally tone up and have my ideal body.

so i got on my bike, and earned a new wardrobe.

now, a year later i’m still on my bike. sure, there were 2 months in there that i stopped. of course, in each of those two months i gained weight. i got the desired muscle tone- my ass is looking better than it has in years, and finally my abs feel like something other than jello. my legs especially have gone from stick-thin, to muscular and looking great in a pair of heels.

despite all that- despite the yoga, despite the cycling, despite the sporadic dieting- i’ve still gained weight. i’ve still had to hang up 2 out of my 3 pairs of skinny jeans.

why? well, it’s because i just can’t control what i shove in my face. i love food, i love snacking, and i love snack foods. i am trying, but not trying hard enough. i have gained 13 lbs since i hit my weight loss goal. go to the store and hold 12 lbs of butter in your hands, then think about how body fat is less dense than butter. YUCK.

i am so fucking pissed at myself.

the sad part? i don’t think i can lose it again. i lost weight by breastfeeding a milk monster, not dieting. i’ve never successfully lost weight intentionally. now that i’ve had my daughter off the sauce for about 6 months, my body is packing on the pounds.

i’d like to pretend it’s just muscle, not fat. i’d like to pretend it’s just natural- you know, my body preparing itself for more pregnancies that i’ll never have. i’d like to pretend that i look better with the extra weight on me. i’d like to pretend i’m perfectly happy looking the way i do.

but i can’t.

because i’m not.

“i love my curvy womanly body” and “being soft and feminine is ideal” is just a crock of shit intended to soothe aching egos and bruised self esteems, forever being beaten to a pulp by constant failed weight loss plans. that’s just the way it is for me, at least. i don’t meant to say that women aren’t attractive with curves… because they are. i just think i have enough natural curves without fat getting in the way. hell, at my skinniest i still had DD breasts. when i tell myself that it’s better to have some softness to my curves, i’m just trying to validate my own weight gain. i’m trying to come up with excuses to soothe my own bruised ego and damaged self esteem. i’m so sick of this.

i’ve completely lost my will. i’m probably the first f’ing blogger to take “before” pictures of her body, and refuse to take the “after’s” because she actually gained weight, rather than lost it.

i was going to hold out on buying new pants, because i was going to lose the weight i gained. i certainly wasn’t going to keep growing out of them.

today, i’ve decided i don’t give a shit anymore. i’m not overweight. just not at my ideal weight. i still have a great body, especially for an almost-thirty mom of two. i’m going to save up my money and buy new pants. i think i’d be a lot less depressed if i had some clothes i looked nice in. i’m going to stop looking in the mirror, at the scale, and down at my waist line.

i’m going to continue to eat healthy, because i want to live a long life, if i can.

i’m going to continue going to yoga, because i really like the way it makes me feel. i love stretching my stress out and i love having at least an hour where the kids are under someone else’s supervision.

i’m going to continue to cycle because i want to stay fit, and cardio is an important aspect in fitness.

but that’s it.

FUCK THIS LOSING WEIGHT SHIT.

it’s for the birds. really.

i’m so tired of worrying about my waistline. like i said, i think i’d be handling this a lot better if i had some clothes that fit me comfortably, but i just don’t.

i am so pissed off at myself for fucking up a good thing.

*i would please like for you to take note that this post in no way reflects the way i see other people. everyone has an ideal weight that they are comfortable with, regardless with how it compares to my own numbers. some women look better with a little weight on them, and i in no way view that in a negative light. i’d pick a few extra pounds over seriously dangerous diseases such as anorexia or bulimia any day.  i’m just upset with myself, and my own failure to meet my body goals.

floating to the surface of my thoughts lately has been the oil spill. what a fucking disaster. i’m trying not to dwell, though, since there’s nothing i can do about it. if i think about it too much i will be overcome with feelings of hatred towards a company and people i’ve never even met, and that’s just a waste of emotional energy.

chief on my mind, of course, is buying a house. we think we’ve found THE house… but we’re still waiting to hear back from the owner’s as to whether or not they’ll accept our offer. i won’t go into how perfect this house is, because i just might be heartbroken this time if we don’t get it. we’ve done all we can… now it’s out of my hands. wait, wait, wait. *headdesk*

also on my mind is what a pain in the ass friendship is.

[section edited out posted privately due to the personal nature of the situation and friend in question]

also on the line of friendship, is a person whom i’ve kept up with for years on facebook, who recently either removed me or deleted her account. i don’t know which, because she didn’t f’ing tell me. i have no other way to contact this friend of nearly ten years, so i’m trying my best to move up and move on… but it still hurts my feelings that someone could just sever contact with me without a second thought. realistically, it probably has nothing to do with me… but i’ll never know what problems they may have that led to the deleting of their account, because i literally have no other way to contact them.

also on my mind is our upcoming vacation, in which i have to spend time with my husband’s father, whom i’ve never met before. after 7 years of marriage and 2 children, you’d think the awkward introductions to the family would be over, but no. one of the most stressful ones of all is coming up in 3 weeks. *sigh* i also have to take a 12+ hour road trip with a toddler who hates being in the car for more than 10 minutes.

in a nutshell, i feel like my head is going to explode. it’s not all bad… my children are ever-growing ever-changing little beacons of light and wonder in my world. i have classes at the Y i go to regularly, and my husband is still the hard-working wonderfully supportive and tolerant man that i married. i still talk to my parents on the phone regularly, and i love my neurotic fetch-doggy. the summer is warm and beautiful and we are pre-approved to buy our first real home. life is really good right now, but still i am stressed.

please don’t think that i am sitting at home with my hair standing on end and lightning bolts coming out of my eyes…

come to think of it, that’s another thing that’s been annoying me lately. i am a blogger, and i share my life on the internet, but i don’t share my whole life. mostly, my blog is like therapy… i put down my fears, worries, and extra thoughts into this one little room so that it doesn’t affect me in real life. it is by no means a description of my entire life or thoughts. sometimes i sound horribly depressed or out of sorts… mostly, that’s just my efforts to keep from becoming horribly depressed and out of sorts. there are aspects of my personality that come out in person that you, as readers, will never see. there are also aspects of my personality that come out in my blog that will never come out in person. (such as my love of prolific swearing) please keep all of that in mind when you are reading blogs. bloggers put a significant portion of their personality and life into type, but is is by no means their entire personality and life.

that being said, i have in fact been really stressed out lately. in blogworld and realworld time. hopefully, getting the things that are bothering me into this blog will help me deal with it before i drive my family nuts with my waspishness. maybe i just need to spend the day at the park soaking up sunshine and a night dancing and singing in my living room.

or i could just go change the diaper that just began wafting the perfumes of last night’s dinner in my direction…

i am infertile. well, technically my husband is the one who’s infertile an account of his vasectomy. i “allowed” the vasectomy because i knew that he didn’t want any more children ever, and that if we didn’t make it impossible for us to have children in the future… our differences in opinion and my irrational hormones might tear us apart. yes, i am that ruled by my hormones. i truly pity my husband for having to put up with me. i truly love him with all my heart for putting up with me. currently, my hormones are screaming at me to have another baby. physically i can’t, and i know it’s for the best. we can’t afford another kid, and i have this whole puke-phobia thing… i thought maybe this weekend’s stomach virus my son contracted would curb the baby fever just a little bit, but surprisingly enough- it didn’t. i suppose it doesn’t help that i’ve surrounded myself with people who are in the prime of their lives, getting pregnant, having babies, and living the normal young family life. not a month goes by in which i don’t deal with pangs of jealousy towards someone who’s discovered they are pregnant, almost due, or just found out the gender of the little miracle in her belly. not a day goes by in which i don’t feel the welling of tears in my eyes while i look at my baby girl… who is rapidly leaving her joyous and adorable [stressful and terrifying] babyhood behind. i love taking care of babies. the sleepless nights were hard. the constant breastfeeding, diaper changing, and all over exhaustion was difficult… but i truly believe that my body was made to be the perfect baby making machine, and it seems like such a waste to stop at 2.  i stopped breastfeeding my daughter 5 months ago and i am still producing milk. okay, i honestly don’t know where this one is going… i suppose i just needed to get it out so i don’t have to hold it in anymore.

i love pickles and chocolate chip cookies. Claussen and Nestle. mmmmmm.

when you’re a mom, the years are short and the days are long. i am utterly terrified of having teenagers in my home… i’m going to give my baby and my little boy and extra squeezy hug today.

my silver stilettos haven’t gotten any use since my wedding… until today, when my daughter dug around in my closet [around the flat mary janes, plain sandals and tennis shoes] and got them out so she could play with them.

i WILL go back to Yoga class tomorrow, even though i’m going to have to use a community mat. (mine was dirtied in the basement, and wasn’t very good anyways) we finally got our Y membership back, and as long as i go to class 4 times a month, it will be worth the $$$. currently, i am gathering my will, and shoving my social anxiety into the recesses of my mind, where it will hopefully die from lack of oxygen.

i will be going on vacation within the next 3 months. we will be visiting my husband’s paternal family. actually, we’ll be meeting them. yes, meeting them. i am terrified… my husband was estranged from that entire side of his family for more than 10 years, but when we started having children, i thought it best to send pictures to the great grandparents. which elevated us to the point where we are now… taking the kids to meet their great grandparents, and paternal grandfather. WHAT THE FUCK WAS I THINKING??? okay sure, the great grandparents didn’t do anything wrong, and did make an effort to stay in touch, but what kind of father doesn’t give a shit about his kid for over 10 years? now i have brought us to the point where we’re going to visit him? oh, and did i mention that he will probably try to pressure me into going boating? i get motion sickness if i even look at a boat funny. i really don’t want to make a bad impression, but i have a feeling that my inlaws are going to hate their socially deficient land-lubber granddaughter in law. *puke* i am just not ready for this. open mouth, insert foot.

if it doesn’t stop raining soon, i’m going to go stark raving MAD. i have got to get my kids out of the house. i have got to be able to open my windows to let in fresh, warm air, and i have GOT to get my son on his bicycle in the back yard.

oh, and i also have GOT to pick him up from school.

peacelovencoffee.

she's growing up way too fast.

it’s about mothers who get their panties in a wad about “who has it harder”.

WELL GUESS WHAT!!!

no mom has it easier than another.

single moms work their asses off while juggling their career and custody and dating.

stay at home moms not only have to deal with every poop, puke, and household chore… but they have to deal with the man of the household and all of his messes too.

working moms have to juggle a career AND their children AND their spouse.

no type of mom has it easier than another.

each mother has her own set of trials and tribulations to deal with, and each person out there is given what they are capable of dealing with. when a mom who normally has a household full of children and a husband to deal with suddenly finds herself taking care of the kids by herself, she is out of her element. she is dealing with a situation she isn’t familiar with, and therefore it will be a helluva lot more difficult for her to deal with being a “temporary” single mom, than a single mom who is single all the time.

when a single mom suddenly finds herself with a boyfriend, how does she juggle a relationship and her children and her job? she’s in a situation she isn’t familiar with, and it makes it more difficult for her to deal with.

when a working mom suddenly finds herself at home, with no job- what is she to do? sure, there’s plenty more time at home, but those things that used to be shared between herself and her spouse are now her responsibility. to a person used to sharing the laundry, cooking and domestic chores, suddenly having to take it all on herself can be a difficult adjustment.

i know, i haven’t begun to cover all the possible situations. the point i’m trying to make is, don’t get your panties in a wad when someone complains about a change in their routine. don’t judge someone else’s situation based on your own. nobody is meant to do the same thing in life- we all have different places we are meant to be, and different things we are meant to do. we all have our comfort zones, and they are all in different areas. don’t begrudge somebody their pity party when they are having a hard time with their children just because they have money. don’t begrudge somebody their pity party when they are going through tough financial times just because they’ve found true love.  don’t begrudge somebody their pity party when they feel depressed just because they have a spouse.

you don’t know what that person did to get where they are. you don’t know what they really deserve or don’t deserve. their Carmic meter is none of your business, and getting pissy with them because a certain aspect of their life is better than yours, is petty and stupid. feeling you are better than someone else because you have a job, or feel you work harder than somebody else, or have more time with your kids during the day- it’s wrong.  it shows you are such a narrow minded, self absorbed person, that you will never find that happiness or bright spots you so jealously covet from someone else’s life.

your blinders are on, and you can’t look so far beyond your own situation, to see the reality of theirs.

don’t focus on someone else’s life. if they need sympathy, and you aren’t prepared to honestly give it, don’t waste time being aggravated at them or trash talk them. instead, look inside yourself. why are you so resentful of their whining? if they are having a hard time with something you put up with every day, then offer your advice, not your bitchy attitude. being out of one’s comfort zone is NOT fun, and when you find yourself in need of a sympathetic ear, you don’t want to find yourself met with someone telling you how they have it so much harder than you ever did.

everybody is different.

everybody is faced with different challenges in life.

motherhood is a lot like playing a musical instrument. some women play single mom best. some women play married work at home mom best; some play married stay at home mom best. some shouldn’t try to play at all. the point is, we are all different. being a mother is different for everybody, and not everybody is going to do it the same way.

allow me my pity party, and i’ll allow you yours.

you aren’t better than another mom just because you have it harder than she does.

not one mom has it harder than another. we all have it different, and that’s it.

the other thing i learned, is that my kids stress me out. not just a little stress, a LOT of stress. i hadn’t had a break in over 2 years, so i kinda got used to the idea of the level of stress i’m experiencing on a daily basis. i never noticed it until it was gone. while i had the house to just myself and my husband, i was relaxed. every once in a while i’d think something silly like “i better be quiet, or i’ll wake the baby” or “better put the baby gate up so my daughter doesn’t escape” then just as quickly realized it was completely unnecessary. i was able to go to the back of the house without hauling my ass over a baby gate. i could leave knives on the kitchen table and our dvd book on the floor. glasses could go unmonitored on the coffee table because there were no clumsy little hands around to knock them off, and i could eat as many cookies as i wanted to without sharing.

that last thing? i realized i didn’t want to eat any cookies. i’m a stress eater, true. i’ve been struggling with my eating lately, but i thought it was just the way i am. i thought i just had a huge sweet tooth. NO. it’s the damn stress. eliminate the stress, and i actually felt like a normal human being… i didn’t want to stuff my face full of chocolate just for the sake of the instant gratification and temporary burst of pleasure hormones that chocolate brings. it was quite a wake up call.

as soon as my kids got home, my daughter started screaming and whining for everything she wanted. my son started pouting and crying every time he didn’t get his way. suddenly, my laundry had doubled, the dishes exploded, and i had to plan out some sort of dinner that everybody would eat.

well, dinner wasn’t much… hotdog on a bun with potato chips.

my mistake.

we gave my daughter a sliver of a potato chip, which she happily chewed up and swallowed before asking for another. chip #2 didn’t fare so well…. it lodged itself in her throat, partially blocking her air passages. i experienced 10 seconds of absolute hell while watched my daughter slowly suck in air, and try to scream… but only blow out a slow whistle instead. she had a horrifying look of pure terror on her face as she laboriously sucked in more air, and continued to scream silently. my only consolation was that she was still sucking in air, however slowly, and wasn’t turning blue. during that time my husband picked her up and tipped her forward until she puked up every bit of her meal, and started screaming (much to my relief) in earnest. i wiped her mouth and her face while my husband cleaned up the barf, and i rocked her while she cried.

i love my daughter. i didn’t need her to choke in order to realize that. one thing i’m good at is being over protective and over affectionate towards my children.

but ohmygawd they stress me out.

they hadn’t been home an entire day before i was ready to put them back to bed.

bed, where they would be sweet and sleeping and not choking or crying because i wouldn’t let them play a video game right then.

do something extra special for your mom or your closest mother-figure this year on mother’s day. if she actually survived with all of her wits intact, she deserves a damn medal.

this “parenting” thing is tough shit.