All good things have to come to an end, I suppose. As my La Leche League book tells me, "Everybody weans". I have loved breastfeeding from the moment I figured it out with Noah. Before babies I knew that I wanted it to work out for me and through many tough moments, both my children nursed until approximately the same age. We made it through Noah's surgery, tongue ties, too much milk, fast flow, lazy nursing, fast nursing, returning to work and pumping...you name it.
On September 1, 2009 Noah weaned abruptly. He was 16 months old I made a post on a parenting forum, entitled "Crushed":
UGH I just went to put my son to sleep and he refused to nurse. He just wanted me to put him into his crib. As soon as I did he fell asleep. He has never, ever refused his bedtime nursing session!
I kept offering and he kept biting me. I thought he just didn't have a good latch so I kept trying. He bit me hard and I said "NO" out of pain and his face crumpled and he sobbed. UGH that is just a lovely nursing memory isn't it?
I hope this isn't in response to the pregnancy. I can't imagine he gets much b/c he only nurses the one time and never for long before he is asleep. I am terrified to try again b/c all I can think is that our last nursing session will have been yesterday where I just spent my whole time reading perezhilton. Lovely....
I left his room and sobbed. I am fairly certain my husband thinks I am crazy!
I was, without a doubt - devastated. I got over it though because I was pregnant with Layla at the time (so I would be breastfeeding again in only 7 more months!)
I have one photo of me nursing Noah, laying in bed together when he was a toddler.
I have suspected Layla was close to weaning for a while. She hasn't relied on it for a long time but I push it because I didn't want to stop. Today, on July 18th, 2011 I think I have to throw in the towel. Layla is now 15 months old, exactly. It has been three days in a row where she has refused. Personally, I think it is due to her teething, as she has refused to eat at school today too. However, since this is day three perhaps I should take this window of opportunity and wean her. I share similar thoughts to my last weaning session - as I didn't really "appreciate" the last time I nursed. In fact, the last few times were comical. She would lay down, nurse for a bit, then sit up and pop between both sides while trying to nurse and rest her cheek on my chest. Then she would giggle and pop back on. I have known for a few months now that she was close to being done and I would watch her nurse and think, "this could be the last time". I tried to cherish it, but I am left with the last few days as a memory - her arching out of my arms trying to get to her crib. Oddly enough, the same way Noah weaned. They are just a month apart in age from when they stopped. Similar to Noah, I have one photo - a self portrait - of our time nursing. She wasn't a cuddly nurser - she was all business with breastfeeding. It isn't a great photo but it is all I have.
I am not sure if we will have another baby, so this is very sad for me. I am sure most people will think I am crazy but at least I'm not sobbing this time!
Monday, July 18, 2011
Thursday, July 14, 2011
Noah's heart
...and so, Noah needs more surgery...and soon.
That is all we know up to this point.
As I tell people this, I do so in a detached manner that seems to alarm the person on the receiving end. I was telling Noah's teacher yesterday who said, "Um...this is a small surgery?". I respond, "No...it is open heart surgery". She looks at me and says cautiously, "...you are handling this....well....". It sort of makes me feel like a horrible parent. Keith is a bit detached too. To him, we knew this was coming so it is just what we expected. To me, I seem to be spitting out the information but not absorbing it. I talk about it in that detached manner nurses do: "I have a repaired VSD, ASD, Co-arct patient in room 6 here for pre-op workup for a muscle bundle resection and valve repair....". It is slightly demented how I am treating it, to be honest. I am walking around acting as though I didn't receive devastating news yesterday. I think every minute though, my layer of ice is melting and some poor sap will ask how the appointment went and I will finally dissolve into tears of grief.
Don't get me wrong, I did tear up as I BBM'd my brother to tell him what was going on as I stood booking his next appointment in the cardiac clinic. He was (and always is) the first person I tell these things to and he always says just the right thing to make me tear up. He is always very supportive. I didn't want to cry in front of Noah though - he doesn't know what is happening. He knows his heart needs to be fixed by a doctor, and that is it so far.
So the day was ok. I always have minor panic attacks walking into Sick Kids these days. After working there for four years in total, I find that those memories and experiences are completely obliterated and replaced by the memory of the hospital stay with Noah. Truthfully, the incident traumatized me, and likely Keith. But I can't really get past it. So I was a bit anxious all day. We took Noah on the train and subway so that distracted us. He was such a good boy.
When we got there, our appointment was supposed to be at 9am and they told us it actually was at 11am. Noone called to tell us so I got quite upset. They saw us at 9:10. They were great and explained to Noah what would happen and he lay on the table, quietly watching Treehouse tv for nearly an hour and a half. He fell asleep at times and was quite warm (Turns out he also had a fever of 103 degrees - not sure why yet). After the echo he had an ECG where he just lay quietly on the table again, prompting the RN to ask him if he "is always this serious".
We had to eat lunch and pass some time while we waited for our 12:30 appointment with the cardiologist. This wait was the longest because we knew the news would be bad but we just wanted to hear it. We had to see a fellow first, and that was even more torture because she couldn't tell us what was wrong yet. Finally we see our cardiologist and basically all he could tell us was that the muscle that is building up under his aortic valve has gotten so crowded that we can't wait any longer to do the surgery. He couldn't tell us if the valve needs replacing or anything more. We have to wait until his case is presented to the surgeon and cardiologists on Monday. Keith asked some great questions and I felt like I just sat there with a goofy look on my face. Somewhere between a grin and a grimace.
Noah fell asleep on the bus ride home - and then we were settled on the couch (him, slightly febrile still) relaxing and watching tv.
I carried on (as did Keith) normally. Making jokes, playing and having a good time with the kids. After Noah had some Tylenol he was a bundle of energy and we had a great time playing. For yesterday, at least, I refused to let his defect and surgery affect our time together. I refused to sit beside him on the couch quietly crying. I just wanted us to have a normal and fun time. And so, I let him throw foam blocks at me and laugh hysterically, even though we aren't supposed to throw toys at people, because lets face it - the kid needs to be let off on some of the rules now and then.
Sometimes my mind wanders to all that can go wrong. I know all this from working there and this knowledge destroys me. I think of when he will be healing and we have to remove his chest drains or pacing wires and how it will hurt him. I think of him laying in bed, intubated and on a ventilator. It is gut wrenching. I can't get these images out of my mind and that is why I choose to be numb for now. When he was a baby it went so fast and was a life-or-death operation. We didn't have time to dwell on the situation. With a week old baby, you are coping with being a new parent, mom has post-partum healing herself, struggling to figure out how to breastfeed, living on no sleep. We had no choice but to deal and move on. This time, the waiting....it's excruciating...
So, as I type this, the ice melts a bit more and I get a bit more sad. Waiting for Monday and even for our surgical time (which will be before Halloween) is like a huge weight hovering over us. Once we get that date, we can set forward with our plan: who will stay in the hospital, who will stay with layla, who will work, who will watch Jade, etc. We plan for 10 days in hospital and who knows how many more days at home recovering after.
I will update when I know more. :)
That is all we know up to this point.
As I tell people this, I do so in a detached manner that seems to alarm the person on the receiving end. I was telling Noah's teacher yesterday who said, "Um...this is a small surgery?". I respond, "No...it is open heart surgery". She looks at me and says cautiously, "...you are handling this....well....". It sort of makes me feel like a horrible parent. Keith is a bit detached too. To him, we knew this was coming so it is just what we expected. To me, I seem to be spitting out the information but not absorbing it. I talk about it in that detached manner nurses do: "I have a repaired VSD, ASD, Co-arct patient in room 6 here for pre-op workup for a muscle bundle resection and valve repair....". It is slightly demented how I am treating it, to be honest. I am walking around acting as though I didn't receive devastating news yesterday. I think every minute though, my layer of ice is melting and some poor sap will ask how the appointment went and I will finally dissolve into tears of grief.
Don't get me wrong, I did tear up as I BBM'd my brother to tell him what was going on as I stood booking his next appointment in the cardiac clinic. He was (and always is) the first person I tell these things to and he always says just the right thing to make me tear up. He is always very supportive. I didn't want to cry in front of Noah though - he doesn't know what is happening. He knows his heart needs to be fixed by a doctor, and that is it so far.
So the day was ok. I always have minor panic attacks walking into Sick Kids these days. After working there for four years in total, I find that those memories and experiences are completely obliterated and replaced by the memory of the hospital stay with Noah. Truthfully, the incident traumatized me, and likely Keith. But I can't really get past it. So I was a bit anxious all day. We took Noah on the train and subway so that distracted us. He was such a good boy.
When we got there, our appointment was supposed to be at 9am and they told us it actually was at 11am. Noone called to tell us so I got quite upset. They saw us at 9:10. They were great and explained to Noah what would happen and he lay on the table, quietly watching Treehouse tv for nearly an hour and a half. He fell asleep at times and was quite warm (Turns out he also had a fever of 103 degrees - not sure why yet). After the echo he had an ECG where he just lay quietly on the table again, prompting the RN to ask him if he "is always this serious".
We had to eat lunch and pass some time while we waited for our 12:30 appointment with the cardiologist. This wait was the longest because we knew the news would be bad but we just wanted to hear it. We had to see a fellow first, and that was even more torture because she couldn't tell us what was wrong yet. Finally we see our cardiologist and basically all he could tell us was that the muscle that is building up under his aortic valve has gotten so crowded that we can't wait any longer to do the surgery. He couldn't tell us if the valve needs replacing or anything more. We have to wait until his case is presented to the surgeon and cardiologists on Monday. Keith asked some great questions and I felt like I just sat there with a goofy look on my face. Somewhere between a grin and a grimace.
Noah fell asleep on the bus ride home - and then we were settled on the couch (him, slightly febrile still) relaxing and watching tv.
I carried on (as did Keith) normally. Making jokes, playing and having a good time with the kids. After Noah had some Tylenol he was a bundle of energy and we had a great time playing. For yesterday, at least, I refused to let his defect and surgery affect our time together. I refused to sit beside him on the couch quietly crying. I just wanted us to have a normal and fun time. And so, I let him throw foam blocks at me and laugh hysterically, even though we aren't supposed to throw toys at people, because lets face it - the kid needs to be let off on some of the rules now and then.
Sometimes my mind wanders to all that can go wrong. I know all this from working there and this knowledge destroys me. I think of when he will be healing and we have to remove his chest drains or pacing wires and how it will hurt him. I think of him laying in bed, intubated and on a ventilator. It is gut wrenching. I can't get these images out of my mind and that is why I choose to be numb for now. When he was a baby it went so fast and was a life-or-death operation. We didn't have time to dwell on the situation. With a week old baby, you are coping with being a new parent, mom has post-partum healing herself, struggling to figure out how to breastfeed, living on no sleep. We had no choice but to deal and move on. This time, the waiting....it's excruciating...
So, as I type this, the ice melts a bit more and I get a bit more sad. Waiting for Monday and even for our surgical time (which will be before Halloween) is like a huge weight hovering over us. Once we get that date, we can set forward with our plan: who will stay in the hospital, who will stay with layla, who will work, who will watch Jade, etc. We plan for 10 days in hospital and who knows how many more days at home recovering after.
I will update when I know more. :)
Thursday, July 7, 2011
To have more children or not...that is the question....
As I approach Layla's 15 month milestone, I am reminded that I was just finding out I was pregnant with her when Noah was 15 months old. Keith and I have had this argument since we were married - how many children do we want?
Keith, coming from a two child family, is ok with stopping at two. Most people would probably agree with him: we have the "million dollar family" - a boy and a girl who are both lovely children.
I come from a 4 child family and I love the idea of a bigger family. I loved the noise, the chaos and the fact that if I was mad at one sibling, I still had two others to hang out with. To me, two is way too small. As I always say to Keith: "If Noah and Layla are fighting, who do they hang out with?!?!"
We have seemed to decide (informally) that 4 is too much. Three may be ok - but there is a constant debate in our house: With two, you can move on from the baby phase (the diapers, potty training, breastfeeding) and start saving for nice vacations, educations and house renovations. We both grew up in families where we didn't take annual trips to cottages or various vacation locales - so it isn't like this is something we need to have annually, but it would be nice to give to our children. We have had only one vacation since having children, when we took Noah on a car trip through New England. It would be nice to go on another trip relatively soon, with both children.
There is also my career to think about. I have just finished my Masters and yet I haven't found a permanent job. I have worked contract for four years due to school and back to back maternity leaves. This has also left a slight financial strain on our family, despite us both making good salaries. Also, as vain as it sounds, this is the best shape I have been in since my wedding and I am kind of enjoying it!
And so, we are approaching the time where I would want to make a decision. I loved having Noah and Layla 23 months apart. It seemed perfect. I would want to have another child relatively soon, as I don't want Noah to be too much older than the youngest child.
However, Layla (over the past few weeks) is going through a particularly difficult phase: kicking and screaming tantrums, biting, hitting - all of which I attribute to her final eye teeth coming through and the cold/eye infection she is currently plagued with. Yet, with her being such a handful it does make us wonder if two is just perfect. Simultaneously, Layla is also the most cuddly and lovable toddler ever - she will sit on my lap and cuddle into my chest all evening while we wait for dinner to be ready. She loves to be held and she has the most infectious smile. Similarly, Noah is the most polite child I have ever met: saying please automatically and apologizing more often than necessary. He is a lovely and gorgeous boy who will obviously be a lovely and gorgeous man one day. My kids are, honestly, amazing and beautiful - and seeing the children we made and how they each are their own little person, with their own (very different) personality traits makes me really want to see what else we can make.
I don't want to live a lifetime of regret at stopping at two if i really wanted three - but I just don't know what to do right now. I didn't really appreciate my last pregnancy as being "the last". I am still nursing Layla and I am hesitant to stop just in case I don't get to nurse another little baby.
We have made one decision - we won't actively try for a third. It was very hard going to a fertility clinic with Noah (luckily Layla was just a lovely surprise). I don't want to go through the emotional turmoil of "trying" again - it is very hard. So if we do decide three would be ok, we would leave it up to fate.
And so, as my biological clock ticks away, we sit and watch Layla having a tantrum on the floor and our current decision may be to stick with two - but I am fairly certain my mind will change once those eye teeth come through...at least until the 2 year molars begin to come through....
Keith, coming from a two child family, is ok with stopping at two. Most people would probably agree with him: we have the "million dollar family" - a boy and a girl who are both lovely children.
I come from a 4 child family and I love the idea of a bigger family. I loved the noise, the chaos and the fact that if I was mad at one sibling, I still had two others to hang out with. To me, two is way too small. As I always say to Keith: "If Noah and Layla are fighting, who do they hang out with?!?!"
We have seemed to decide (informally) that 4 is too much. Three may be ok - but there is a constant debate in our house: With two, you can move on from the baby phase (the diapers, potty training, breastfeeding) and start saving for nice vacations, educations and house renovations. We both grew up in families where we didn't take annual trips to cottages or various vacation locales - so it isn't like this is something we need to have annually, but it would be nice to give to our children. We have had only one vacation since having children, when we took Noah on a car trip through New England. It would be nice to go on another trip relatively soon, with both children.
There is also my career to think about. I have just finished my Masters and yet I haven't found a permanent job. I have worked contract for four years due to school and back to back maternity leaves. This has also left a slight financial strain on our family, despite us both making good salaries. Also, as vain as it sounds, this is the best shape I have been in since my wedding and I am kind of enjoying it!
And so, we are approaching the time where I would want to make a decision. I loved having Noah and Layla 23 months apart. It seemed perfect. I would want to have another child relatively soon, as I don't want Noah to be too much older than the youngest child.
However, Layla (over the past few weeks) is going through a particularly difficult phase: kicking and screaming tantrums, biting, hitting - all of which I attribute to her final eye teeth coming through and the cold/eye infection she is currently plagued with. Yet, with her being such a handful it does make us wonder if two is just perfect. Simultaneously, Layla is also the most cuddly and lovable toddler ever - she will sit on my lap and cuddle into my chest all evening while we wait for dinner to be ready. She loves to be held and she has the most infectious smile. Similarly, Noah is the most polite child I have ever met: saying please automatically and apologizing more often than necessary. He is a lovely and gorgeous boy who will obviously be a lovely and gorgeous man one day. My kids are, honestly, amazing and beautiful - and seeing the children we made and how they each are their own little person, with their own (very different) personality traits makes me really want to see what else we can make.
I don't want to live a lifetime of regret at stopping at two if i really wanted three - but I just don't know what to do right now. I didn't really appreciate my last pregnancy as being "the last". I am still nursing Layla and I am hesitant to stop just in case I don't get to nurse another little baby.
We have made one decision - we won't actively try for a third. It was very hard going to a fertility clinic with Noah (luckily Layla was just a lovely surprise). I don't want to go through the emotional turmoil of "trying" again - it is very hard. So if we do decide three would be ok, we would leave it up to fate.
And so, as my biological clock ticks away, we sit and watch Layla having a tantrum on the floor and our current decision may be to stick with two - but I am fairly certain my mind will change once those eye teeth come through...at least until the 2 year molars begin to come through....
Wednesday, June 8, 2011
Hitting, biting and stealing candy from a baby
Daily we get a report from school: "Layla is having trouble hitting her friends". Yesterday her report further noted that she is "hitting her friends to take their toys". I have heard she also beats them over the head with a book and laughs!
So everyday, Keith has to hear about how bad Layla is when he picks her up.
I tell my mom and she advises we do something about this. Please...someone....tell me how you correct this behaviour in a 13 month old!!! Literally, all we can do is teach her to be gentle when she hits and then distract her.
I really don't think there is much more to be done. I also don't think we need to hear, daily, how violent she is! If it were my child getting beat up I am sure I would be mad, but honestly, what can we do?
Realistically I know we are doing all we can and Layla is just fiesty and knows what she wants. She knows how to get it. At home, she rips a toy from Noah's hand and he grabs it back. She bites him and he hands it over! She is used to this!
After her report yesterday I sat with her and said, "Layla...did you get in trouble for hurting your friends?". She nods "yes" - how can you not laugh at this?!?!
I know I am not taking it very seriously and I really do feel bad for the kids she is beating up but she will outgrow it. And if she doesn't, she will eventually hit an age where she can be reasoned with or at least experience consequences for her actions.
So for now, I will continue to laugh it off...I just want to publically apologize to all the children in her class who are now her bitches. ;)
So everyday, Keith has to hear about how bad Layla is when he picks her up.
I tell my mom and she advises we do something about this. Please...someone....tell me how you correct this behaviour in a 13 month old!!! Literally, all we can do is teach her to be gentle when she hits and then distract her.
I really don't think there is much more to be done. I also don't think we need to hear, daily, how violent she is! If it were my child getting beat up I am sure I would be mad, but honestly, what can we do?
Realistically I know we are doing all we can and Layla is just fiesty and knows what she wants. She knows how to get it. At home, she rips a toy from Noah's hand and he grabs it back. She bites him and he hands it over! She is used to this!
After her report yesterday I sat with her and said, "Layla...did you get in trouble for hurting your friends?". She nods "yes" - how can you not laugh at this?!?!
I know I am not taking it very seriously and I really do feel bad for the kids she is beating up but she will outgrow it. And if she doesn't, she will eventually hit an age where she can be reasoned with or at least experience consequences for her actions.
So for now, I will continue to laugh it off...I just want to publically apologize to all the children in her class who are now her bitches. ;)
Run run as fast as you can....
Historically, I am a sprinter. I mean, I haven't been in a race for....er...lets not say. But suffice it to say that back in highschool I loved track and field. The track part anyway: 100m sprints, 80m hurdles and 4x100 relay races were my favourite races.
When I went away to University my frosh leader was on the UW track team and he kept trying to get me to try out. I was terrified and refused. I also thought my workload would be too much.
However, since then I have dabbled in short distance running off and on. When I need to get back in shape it is always my fall back workout.
Given I never really raced longer than a 100m race, the thought of running a 5k race is purely terrifying to me! Yes, I have many friends who are marathon runners and I therefore feel ridiculous saying that I am "training" for a 5k race because it probably seems like a sprint to them...but for me, it is LONG.
A few weeks ago I was feeling gross and unmotivated. I hate working out for the sake of working out so I decided I needed a goal. After I had Layla, I did the "couch to 5K" program with keith and loved having something to work towards. We did great but I fell out of the habit of running because I had reached my weight goal and there was no reason to keep up the torture!
So the other day I decided I would train for a 10k. It was longer than I knew I could handle and a goal I needed to work up to. I knew it would motivate me. However, having never run a distance race, Keith wisely suggested I train for a 5K race first.
Before I lost my nerve, I signed up for a 5K in my area for early July. There was no turning back!!!
Normally I train on the treadmill but I decided I should do some of my training outdoors since the race won't be on a treadmill! The first day I ran outside (a week into my training schedule) I wanted to die! I was out of breath and by the time I finished I was in a pure panic! There was NO WAY I could do this race. I was exhausted and I had only done 1.5miles! I couldn't pace myself - in fact, I had no idea how to pace myself! I calculated my time and I had run an 8 minute mile - wayyyyy too fast for me! Clearly I needed help.
I contemplated doing a Running Room clinic but they are right smack in the middle of bed-time prep for the kids. So I figured if I live through this 5K and dare to do a longer race, I may have to get some assistance but it seems everyone can run a 5K so I can figure it out on my own.
The next day I had to run, I found some new music with a decent beat to try to pace myself, I got a new running skirt (oh so cute!) and I set out aiming to run no slower than a 13 minute mile - which is uber slow but I figured this should be what I aim for and then see how I do. That day I comfortably ran a 10 minute mile! MUCH better! (not fast but I was proud of it). It felt right.
The following days I aimed to maintain my comfortable 10 minute mile run because I figured on race day I would be a bit faster due to the excitement of the race. I have been running between a 9 and 10 minute mile comfortably.
Yesterday I encountered my first barrier to training - I felt sick...I mean, I felt so gross I could barely walk around the kitchen. I still don't feel great but I have to get out there and run. My race is only a month away and I really don't want to be unprepared! I didn't really know how to account for the setback (this is where a running clinic may be useful!). So I decided that I could take yesterday off but I had to shift my running days over by one day all week. So hopefully I feel well enough tonight. I may have to aim for a slower jog though.
All in all, I have learned something about myself: I need hobbies! I need goals! I really enjoy having something to work towards. Who likes working out just to do so? Not me! I also don't have a lot of time with the kids. Yes, I know I should "make time" to work out but I prefer to spend my time with my children. So , the only time I have to myself is from 8 - 10 at night. So while that isn't enough time to do marathon training, I should be able to do at least a 10K!
When I went away to University my frosh leader was on the UW track team and he kept trying to get me to try out. I was terrified and refused. I also thought my workload would be too much.
However, since then I have dabbled in short distance running off and on. When I need to get back in shape it is always my fall back workout.
Given I never really raced longer than a 100m race, the thought of running a 5k race is purely terrifying to me! Yes, I have many friends who are marathon runners and I therefore feel ridiculous saying that I am "training" for a 5k race because it probably seems like a sprint to them...but for me, it is LONG.
A few weeks ago I was feeling gross and unmotivated. I hate working out for the sake of working out so I decided I needed a goal. After I had Layla, I did the "couch to 5K" program with keith and loved having something to work towards. We did great but I fell out of the habit of running because I had reached my weight goal and there was no reason to keep up the torture!
So the other day I decided I would train for a 10k. It was longer than I knew I could handle and a goal I needed to work up to. I knew it would motivate me. However, having never run a distance race, Keith wisely suggested I train for a 5K race first.
Before I lost my nerve, I signed up for a 5K in my area for early July. There was no turning back!!!
Normally I train on the treadmill but I decided I should do some of my training outdoors since the race won't be on a treadmill! The first day I ran outside (a week into my training schedule) I wanted to die! I was out of breath and by the time I finished I was in a pure panic! There was NO WAY I could do this race. I was exhausted and I had only done 1.5miles! I couldn't pace myself - in fact, I had no idea how to pace myself! I calculated my time and I had run an 8 minute mile - wayyyyy too fast for me! Clearly I needed help.
I contemplated doing a Running Room clinic but they are right smack in the middle of bed-time prep for the kids. So I figured if I live through this 5K and dare to do a longer race, I may have to get some assistance but it seems everyone can run a 5K so I can figure it out on my own.
The next day I had to run, I found some new music with a decent beat to try to pace myself, I got a new running skirt (oh so cute!) and I set out aiming to run no slower than a 13 minute mile - which is uber slow but I figured this should be what I aim for and then see how I do. That day I comfortably ran a 10 minute mile! MUCH better! (not fast but I was proud of it). It felt right.
The following days I aimed to maintain my comfortable 10 minute mile run because I figured on race day I would be a bit faster due to the excitement of the race. I have been running between a 9 and 10 minute mile comfortably.
Yesterday I encountered my first barrier to training - I felt sick...I mean, I felt so gross I could barely walk around the kitchen. I still don't feel great but I have to get out there and run. My race is only a month away and I really don't want to be unprepared! I didn't really know how to account for the setback (this is where a running clinic may be useful!). So I decided that I could take yesterday off but I had to shift my running days over by one day all week. So hopefully I feel well enough tonight. I may have to aim for a slower jog though.
All in all, I have learned something about myself: I need hobbies! I need goals! I really enjoy having something to work towards. Who likes working out just to do so? Not me! I also don't have a lot of time with the kids. Yes, I know I should "make time" to work out but I prefer to spend my time with my children. So , the only time I have to myself is from 8 - 10 at night. So while that isn't enough time to do marathon training, I should be able to do at least a 10K!
Sunday, April 17, 2011
Binging
I will be the first to admit, I am a binge eater - but it only with certain foods: baked goods or chocolate or cookies or pie....you see where I am going with this? I have a sweet tooth and I am not exaggerating when I say that many times (ok most binges) I eat until I have made myself sick. I am not overweight, I am healthy and my BMI is in the proper range, but I think I have a big problem here! I literally have no ability to say "no" to sweets. I will eat them if they are in the house, even when I am not hungry. Put me in front of an open bag of chips and I won't touch them - but chocolate....I won't even share it. I also am the sort of person who needs sweets after a meal. People will offer advice, such as "just have fruit after a meal if you need something sweet" - but clearly these people do not suffer from binge eating. Believe me, if I had a choice between a piece of pie and an apple, I am choosing the pie! If I try to eat the apple first, I will just go back and also eat the pie...so now I have upped my consumption of calories by having two "desserts". I feel absolutely disgusted with myself when I binge, and I hate that feeling. I always try to remind myself how sick I make myself when I eat too much, but that feeling is fleeting - it isn't enough to make me stop the next time cookies are nearby.
So, the reason I am sharing this extremely embarrassing problem of mine, is because I know that I am not alone, and also - I need to stop. I recently lost all my baby weight plus 10 extra pounds on Weight Watchers. I have kept it off for nearly eight months - that is the best I have ever done with my weight (I am prone to yo-yo'ing, due to binge eating when my weight gets down when I seem to think that rewarding my good behaviour with food is a good idea).
I know that the only time I eat these foods is when I am around them. I have tried eating them in moderation but when you are consumed with an obsessive need to eat these foods, then moderation does you no good. So, I am going to blog to share the experience of getting myself off sweets. Perhaps choosing to do this around Easter is a bad idea...I am super close to postponing this idea, but I know that is exactly WHY I have to do this.
I refuse to live a lifetime of denying myself treats - I just want to choose ones that may be better for me, that will satisfy my cravings, but won't have me scarfing down the whole dessert. I also want to stop being a binge eater because I know my kids watch my every move and I don't want them to learn these unhealthy habits. My son already has a very soft spot for timbits, cookies and chocolate. I take it as a bad sign that he wakes up every morning and asks for chocolate for breakfast (no, I don't give it to him....)
Since I have already finished off the last of the icing from my daughters birthday party yesterday, I will have to start tomorrow. Since being back at work, I have gained nearly 10lbs and I want to loose that again. I am going to try to track my WW's points, because that also keeps me accountable for my daily consumption of food.
I am anticipating my biggest roadblocks will be my daily timmies runs, the 3pm slump at work, and tea time at work every friday at 11am.
My game plan here is to stop the cycle of binging. Once I get going, I can't stop. I want to learn a healthier way to think of sweets - they are "treats", not daily meals. I can have them every now and then but I can't go crazy with them. I don't plan on surrounding myself with veggies in the hopes that carrot sticks are going to keep me away from the sweets. As I have said before, my binge eating has nothing to do with hunger. I don't eat sweets because I need food - I do it for reasons that aren't clear to me yet. I hope that in keeping a journal of my progress, I can figure out why I reach for sweets.
I already have made a good choice for my upcoming battle: With Easter around the corner, I was going to decorate cookies with Noah, since he is a bit young to do eggs. Instead, I saw these easter decorations that kids can colour. I figured he and I could do that instead - and just leave the cookies out of the house.
I figure my next big step is asking Keith to not buy me my annual 1lb chocolate bunny (which I can easily consume in a day - disgusting isn't it?). I think I will ask him to just get me something I will enjoy, that isn't food, like makeup.
Wish me luck.
So, the reason I am sharing this extremely embarrassing problem of mine, is because I know that I am not alone, and also - I need to stop. I recently lost all my baby weight plus 10 extra pounds on Weight Watchers. I have kept it off for nearly eight months - that is the best I have ever done with my weight (I am prone to yo-yo'ing, due to binge eating when my weight gets down when I seem to think that rewarding my good behaviour with food is a good idea).
I know that the only time I eat these foods is when I am around them. I have tried eating them in moderation but when you are consumed with an obsessive need to eat these foods, then moderation does you no good. So, I am going to blog to share the experience of getting myself off sweets. Perhaps choosing to do this around Easter is a bad idea...I am super close to postponing this idea, but I know that is exactly WHY I have to do this.
I refuse to live a lifetime of denying myself treats - I just want to choose ones that may be better for me, that will satisfy my cravings, but won't have me scarfing down the whole dessert. I also want to stop being a binge eater because I know my kids watch my every move and I don't want them to learn these unhealthy habits. My son already has a very soft spot for timbits, cookies and chocolate. I take it as a bad sign that he wakes up every morning and asks for chocolate for breakfast (no, I don't give it to him....)
Since I have already finished off the last of the icing from my daughters birthday party yesterday, I will have to start tomorrow. Since being back at work, I have gained nearly 10lbs and I want to loose that again. I am going to try to track my WW's points, because that also keeps me accountable for my daily consumption of food.
I am anticipating my biggest roadblocks will be my daily timmies runs, the 3pm slump at work, and tea time at work every friday at 11am.
My game plan here is to stop the cycle of binging. Once I get going, I can't stop. I want to learn a healthier way to think of sweets - they are "treats", not daily meals. I can have them every now and then but I can't go crazy with them. I don't plan on surrounding myself with veggies in the hopes that carrot sticks are going to keep me away from the sweets. As I have said before, my binge eating has nothing to do with hunger. I don't eat sweets because I need food - I do it for reasons that aren't clear to me yet. I hope that in keeping a journal of my progress, I can figure out why I reach for sweets.
I already have made a good choice for my upcoming battle: With Easter around the corner, I was going to decorate cookies with Noah, since he is a bit young to do eggs. Instead, I saw these easter decorations that kids can colour. I figured he and I could do that instead - and just leave the cookies out of the house.
I figure my next big step is asking Keith to not buy me my annual 1lb chocolate bunny (which I can easily consume in a day - disgusting isn't it?). I think I will ask him to just get me something I will enjoy, that isn't food, like makeup.
Wish me luck.
Friday, April 8, 2011
The impact of children on a marriage
Today, in my lactation course, I heard this line:
"When you become a mother, it is like going to a different planet...nothing is (or ever will be) the same ever again".
Heavy stuff - but very true. I am going to discuss this, not just as a mother - but as a parent. I do believe that children change a mother's life as much as a fathers.
If we, as humans, knew what it was like to start a family I am sure the species would begin to die off a bit because we are an incredibly selfish group. I don't know how to make this entire blog post not sound self-righteous or condescending so bear with me. I am trying to make a point....
In today's society, it is typical to get married and have children. As women enter their fertile years (which in today's day and age seems to be late 20's to early 30's), their biological clock kicks into overdrive and the urge is unbearable for many women. As such, in these years, the women are eager to start off their marriage with children. Believe me, I was one of these women! I was ready to have a baby from the moment I was married. We held off for a year, but I really wonder if we knew what it was like (and I mean what being a parent really is like), would we have held off and enjoyed being newlyweds a bit more?
I honestly believe that people who don't have children have no idea the impact those children can have on your life and your marriage - how could you? Sure, you have watched them, babysat them and even spent long weekends with them - but they aren't your children, your worries, or your concerns. I mean, it makes sense right?
I also believe, that most young couples talk themselves into the belief that "children won't change who we are"; "I am going to be the same person"; or even "our marriage won't change at all and even if it does, we are strong enough to handle it". These are all normal thoughts because, if we didn't have these thoughts we wouldn't ever have children!!!! This is how the species continues to perpetuate!
However, having children really and truly changes you and your marriage - no matter how much we try to convince ourselves it won't. This does not mean that it changes it for the worse. Not by any means - but it sure does change it. And future mothers, lets just nip this in the bud: you will not be showered, looking slim in your lulu pants, breasts perky in a lovely t-shirt, sipping a skinny latte at Starbucks with your adorable child sleeping peacefully in the stroller while you enjoy lazy days together at 3 months post partum. I could tell you what it is really like, but I don't want the species to die off! ;)
I see the change, not so much in myself, but in my marriage. Keith and I have always (and still do) had a strong foundation of marriage. We were that sickeningly cute couple that was always kissing, holding hands, etc. The other day we were walking along together and I realized it had been years (literally YEARS) since we walked hand-in-hand, when just a few years ago, before children, we would even sleep holding hands!
Similarly, you loose that selfishness and you switch to parent mode. You give up things you normally wouldn't think twice about just to ensure your kids get what they need (whether it is a hair cut or new shoes for the kids). Do you let yourself go, physically? Of course not - but if it comes down to you highlighting your hair this month or paying for daycare, which do you think you will choose?
Intimacy changes, as well. I mean, how can it not? Moms (or in some cases, fathers) are up all night with a baby, expected to be up all day either to take care of the children or to work at her place of employment; you breastfeed so breasts suddenly become all about function; your body changes, so there are those issues to handle ... basically every single aspect of your intimate life changes. If you have kids close together in age, or multiples, it only gets worse. I basically fall asleep at 9pm every night at this stage, with "2 under 2".
Of course, nothing I can say can truly convey that you, your partner, and your relationship changes. I would never in a million years say it changes for the bad because I really and truly would do anything for my children and husband.
Yet, similar to that quote I heard today - you don't change back. No matter how much you want to believe your life, your social life, your marriage, your partner and your self will return to how they were pre-baby - it won't. You grow into a new life, a new persona and a new family. The moment your baby looks you in the eye, you change forever.
"When you become a mother, it is like going to a different planet...nothing is (or ever will be) the same ever again".
Heavy stuff - but very true. I am going to discuss this, not just as a mother - but as a parent. I do believe that children change a mother's life as much as a fathers.
If we, as humans, knew what it was like to start a family I am sure the species would begin to die off a bit because we are an incredibly selfish group. I don't know how to make this entire blog post not sound self-righteous or condescending so bear with me. I am trying to make a point....
In today's society, it is typical to get married and have children. As women enter their fertile years (which in today's day and age seems to be late 20's to early 30's), their biological clock kicks into overdrive and the urge is unbearable for many women. As such, in these years, the women are eager to start off their marriage with children. Believe me, I was one of these women! I was ready to have a baby from the moment I was married. We held off for a year, but I really wonder if we knew what it was like (and I mean what being a parent really is like), would we have held off and enjoyed being newlyweds a bit more?
I honestly believe that people who don't have children have no idea the impact those children can have on your life and your marriage - how could you? Sure, you have watched them, babysat them and even spent long weekends with them - but they aren't your children, your worries, or your concerns. I mean, it makes sense right?
I also believe, that most young couples talk themselves into the belief that "children won't change who we are"; "I am going to be the same person"; or even "our marriage won't change at all and even if it does, we are strong enough to handle it". These are all normal thoughts because, if we didn't have these thoughts we wouldn't ever have children!!!! This is how the species continues to perpetuate!
However, having children really and truly changes you and your marriage - no matter how much we try to convince ourselves it won't. This does not mean that it changes it for the worse. Not by any means - but it sure does change it. And future mothers, lets just nip this in the bud: you will not be showered, looking slim in your lulu pants, breasts perky in a lovely t-shirt, sipping a skinny latte at Starbucks with your adorable child sleeping peacefully in the stroller while you enjoy lazy days together at 3 months post partum. I could tell you what it is really like, but I don't want the species to die off! ;)
I see the change, not so much in myself, but in my marriage. Keith and I have always (and still do) had a strong foundation of marriage. We were that sickeningly cute couple that was always kissing, holding hands, etc. The other day we were walking along together and I realized it had been years (literally YEARS) since we walked hand-in-hand, when just a few years ago, before children, we would even sleep holding hands!
Similarly, you loose that selfishness and you switch to parent mode. You give up things you normally wouldn't think twice about just to ensure your kids get what they need (whether it is a hair cut or new shoes for the kids). Do you let yourself go, physically? Of course not - but if it comes down to you highlighting your hair this month or paying for daycare, which do you think you will choose?
Intimacy changes, as well. I mean, how can it not? Moms (or in some cases, fathers) are up all night with a baby, expected to be up all day either to take care of the children or to work at her place of employment; you breastfeed so breasts suddenly become all about function; your body changes, so there are those issues to handle ... basically every single aspect of your intimate life changes. If you have kids close together in age, or multiples, it only gets worse. I basically fall asleep at 9pm every night at this stage, with "2 under 2".
Of course, nothing I can say can truly convey that you, your partner, and your relationship changes. I would never in a million years say it changes for the bad because I really and truly would do anything for my children and husband.
Yet, similar to that quote I heard today - you don't change back. No matter how much you want to believe your life, your social life, your marriage, your partner and your self will return to how they were pre-baby - it won't. You grow into a new life, a new persona and a new family. The moment your baby looks you in the eye, you change forever.
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