First in, First out

Way back in the day...  I had a job.
Every day I got up and went in.  I showered and wore makeup.  Most days, anyway.
And when I was working I would often use the phrase "First In, First Out" or "FIFO".  We also said "LIFO" but that was not as common.
The phrase referred to certain retirement plans.  The money that went into the plan first was removed first at retirement - meaning, in most cases, clients were going to have to pay taxes on that income that they had not yet paid taxes on because they had invested it immediately.
For the past couple of weeks I have been saying "FIFO" in a very different way.

My beautiful baby girl has been wiggling her very first loose tooth.  The looseness was first discovered about 2 weeks ago (give or take, short-term memory is not my strong suit) and unless my long-term memory deceives me, it was in fact, the very first one to grow in back in June, 2006.

Here she is, pointing to her first 2 teeth.

At this point you pretty much wanted to steer clear of those chompers - or risk losing a finger.

Did this kid ever close her mouth?

The final hours of the tooth's life was not without it's drama.
It was literally hanging by a thread and Abby was beside herself with fear.  She was crying with huge tears and snot bubbles, deep shuddered breaths of "I'm Sca-a-a-a-a-a-a-red" but she was very brave.  She was afraid it was going to hurt.  This is a girl who waits for bandaids to fall off on their own.  She did not want me to even look at it.

After some time (and some Tylenol) she calmed down enough to be treated to a Smoothie - on the couch while resting comfortably with a blanket & pillow.  I was in the kitchen when I heard a quiet, not alarmed but sort of amazed "Mommy!"
I walked in and was greeted with a tiny little hand holding out an even tinier little tooth.
It was out.

I know that was a tiny tooth in a tiny mouth but I had not idea how tiny it was until it was in my mama-sized hand. 
I was overwhelmed.  I cheered, I got choked up, I hugged her, I was beaming!  What an amazing thing.

Babies grow teeth.
Big girls lose them.
My baby is a big girl! 

Being that this was her first tooth, her Daddy & I left her a little treat (Tangled on DVD - what a great movie!) and the Tooth Fairy was super-generous to celebrate the inaugural tooth with $10.
Abby was so excited to use the special Tooth Fairy Box that Jody, Q & K gave her at her Baptism and the Tooth Fairy definitely came because the tooth was gone in the morning!

It was a very big deal.  We are all very excited.
Let's just hope the big girl realizes the first one is the big deal and she'll need to tone it down as we go through the next 19.

I'm Coming Out

Remember that commercial?
I'm comin' out, I want the world to know...
I cringed every time those bellies sang.


If my belly could talk, it would look like this:

I have had "someone-might-see-my-belly"-itis for years now and I am tired of it.
When I nursed Abby & Wyatt, I covered up.  Not because I didn't want someone to see my boob, not because I was ashamed or private...  because I knew that lurking right under the glorious act of feeding my child was my nasty fat roll.   And catching a glimpse of a fat roll under a t-shirt is one thing but blatantly seeing a woman's fat, white gut is just gross.  I don't even like looking at it myself, never mind sitting in a cuddly position with my lovey little baby knowing that my blubber is hanging out for all the world to see.
I don't like seeing another woman's fat rolls, either.  I do, however, enjoy a nice, tight stomach on a woman.  Not in a sexual way, more in a "cute shoes, where'd ya get 'em" way.  I want that belly.  I want the belly that has no problem changing it's shirt in front of people.  I want the belly that doesn't mind if it's t-shirt flies up in the middle of Yoga or while jumping rope in Cardio.
I'd like a belly that I am not able to pick up in my hands.  Seriously.  We're beyond pinching an inch here, people.

So, yes, I am still watching what I eat and working out at the gym.  I will forever watch my caloric and fat grams intakes and weigh myself on Fridays more religiously than I attend church.
But I am working more and more Abs into my routines.  Working my abs has become my current obsession and I swear, I can already see and feel results.  Exercise is amazing, isn't it?

I had 2 C-sections.  Prior to my children being born I was not exactly flaunting a waistline gem or piercing anything other than my ears.
But after having 2 c-sections where all of your abdominal muscles are literally sliced in half to be able to reach the uterus and remove the baby, it makes regaining strength and having a gut to be proud of that much harder.
I am not planning to buy a bikini in my thirties after not even being able to wear one in my teens but I wouldn't mind having a Tankini option where I would not have to worry about the top floating up and my belly hanging down.
So, I'm working on it.

Once in my life I remember having a belly that I was ok with.  Granted, that was a particularly dark period of low self esteem where drinking to excess & puking replaced eating & digesting.  That combined with an average sized growth spurt for a 15-year old girl made me about as long and lean as I have ever been.
And while I often remember those days of cheap beers and camp fires fondly, it was not the healthiest way to drop the excess baggage.

So, maybe this summer, I'm coming out.  Or at least, maybe, a little bit of shy peeking around the corner...

Turning the Page

Wanna know something I have never done?
I have never walked inthe snow with my flip-flops on.
Until this past weekend, that is.

It was gorgeous outside and while we have many acres of nonsense to rake, blow, re-soil, mulch, prune and plant, I took great pleasure in cleaning out our little flower garden out front.

After trimming the Ornamental grass and raking all the dead leaves and grass away I had to put it somewhere.  In order to put it in the woods I had to walk to the woods and guess what?
There's still plenty of snow in my front yard.

Way back there, behind the boy, you can sort of see the Compost Bin where I had to get to!

And just like before this past weekend I had never walked in snow with only my flip-flops on, I had also never cleaned out a flower bed while there was still snow in my front yard.

Sundress & Rain Boots - Check.
Snow in the yard while it's warm enough to wear only sundress & rain boots? 
Check Check!

I shoveled a lot of snow here at 131 this winter.  And I will gladly - with great joy, pride and delight - rake, prune, blow, soil, plant and mulch for 131 as well.

 Remember these shots?  Feels like a lifetime ago!  I forgive you, Winter...

 But freaking LEAVE already!!

***

Just a quick little  B&A for ya:

The Response

Even though you yell at me I still am always gonna love you and when you fall I will come to help you.

Abby loves you.

I’ll always be kind and nice and even when you yell and I cry I always love you.

And when you yell for all this time I can feel how much you love me even when I cry.

And this right here I want to sing you a little song, ok?

I love you, I love you so very much.

Even when I am cryyyyyyyyyiiiing cuz I loooooooove you – oooooooohh!!

Oh my mommy!

I loooooo-oooo-ooove you!

I will say “Mommy, Can you snuggle me?”

I will even say “Oh Mommy, I hug you!”

Love,

Abigail Jeanne LaChapelle

Girl in the Mirror

Dear Abby,

Tonight I made your face look like this: 

For real, though, not for the camera while we have a little Vanilla-Cherry Goodness.

I much prefer your face to look like this:

Over dessert and otherwise...

But sometimes we just don't see eye to eye.  Do we?

You're 5 and I'm almost 35 and yet, I so often learn so much more from you than I feel like I teach you.
When I lose my temper and raise my voice - ok scream and yell - at you and you not only stand your ground, but have the peace of mind to tell me that "yelling won't make it happen" or "your loud voice is upsetting me" and I am seeing red, not only angry that you are still not listening to me or doing what I had asked you to do 48 times prior, but the guilt also begins to creep in about how loud I am getting and how hard you are crying.

And while I promised you - and double promised not to break my promise - that I would never yell like that again...  chances are, it won't be the last time I yell like that and you cry like that.
Chances are, at 5 & 35, we have many years of yelling and crying ahead of us.

Tonight it was your apparent inability to do anything I ask you to do the first time I ask you to do it.  10 years from now it may well be the same damn thing.

But 10 years from now will we be able to spend an hour flipping through the Oceans Encyclopedia and snuggling so that we both feel completely better before you fall asleep? 

Maybe, but just in case that doesn't happen each and every time, Abs, please remember this:

Mommy always loves you.

Mommy always likes you.

Mommy is always proud of you.

You are a smart, kind, sensitive, loving and fun girl.

You're my buddy.  My little best friend.  

My absolute favorite girl in the whole wide world.

And even when I'm yelling, I feel all of that.

Being Mommy is not always easy.  I constantly question my choices, my decisions, my words and actions.  Every day, every breath, every move I make I am trying to be the best mommy I can possibly be for you and Wyatt.

Tonight you told me you never wanted to get a husband and a family of your own because you didn't ever want to leave me.  I told you that having your own family some day would be the ultimate reward for me and Daddy. 
So, you promised that you would live on Joel.  And visit every day. 

Thank you.  You are truly a gift from God to me.  I love you.

Big Debate...

The issue around here is when we have the money, which car will we buy?
The "I admit it, I care what people say about me" side of me thinks:  Acura MDX.  This car kicks ass at Pick-up at school.  I admit it.
The "which one has more room with best fuel economy & monthly payment for a 5 year finance purchase", ie - " the one I will actually buy" side of me is torn between two equally loved & trusted brands of the Honda Pilot & the Chevy Tahoe.
The Tahoe is a lot bigger (read: harder to park at the mall at Christmas time!) and the Pilot is a Honda (read: great mileage & love/trust of younger years bleed over).
I don't know.  What do you think?

I know this:
1.  I am not a MiniVan Mama.  Never thought I was, with my kids at 3 & 5, I know for sure now, I'm not.  I am just too cool.  Sorry, mini-van mamas - I make fun of you.

2.  I need the room to take a friend or two along with us.  I never thought I'd cave to the pressure.  I thought I'd always prefer my low-to-the-ground, cool-car-driving ways while Jay prefers the truck/SUV way.
I admit it - I would much prefer to drive an SUV.  I want to be able to bring a kid along for each of my own.  And maybe their mom, too.
They are social creatures, these babies...  and I resent not being able to reciprocate the offers from all the dorky Mini-Van mamas.

This may be what the Bu looks like some days, but that doesn't make it any more legal that it's not...

Heeeeeere we Go...

• It's March.  Regardless of snowfall, there is absolutely no excuse to have wreaths, Santas or any other Christmas decor on your front porch.  I understand that some of those lawn reindeer have only recently reappeared, but no excuse can be made for a swag you look at every single day and simply don't get your lazy ass out to put it away.
  
  
• Abby asked me we could have one more baby.  When I said no, that she and Wyatt were it for us she promptly responded with "Are you all out of love?"  Because, after all, we made her and Wyatt with our love, what's our problem?
  
  
• People that don't use their blinkers annoy the piss out of me.  Why is it such a hardship to let me know which way you're going to turn so that I can react properly?
  
  
• People that take up 2 parking spots because they have a brand new Mercedes get a pass in my book.  I can understand that level of caution and paranoia.  Especially when they show enough consideration to take those 2 spots fairly far away from the desired destination.  People that park their pimped out Civics do not get that same consideration from me. And the Bu will challenge you, kid.  The Bu will get right up in there, so don't do it.
  
  
• The kids & I planted bean seeds in cups and baggies so that we can watch the roots grow and the plant sprout.  I cannot wait to see them take off and eventually move outside into pots and produce actual beans that we can eat.  Awesome project.  I love my kids.
  
  
• Planning to lose 14 pounds before Easter.  SO far, so good.  In the past 8 days I have gone to the gym 4 times.  That is a good start and I am super-excited to see these results!
   
• Easter in NYC is Booked!  Marriott Marquis for us, Gagnon's for the pooches.  Easter outfits & Jammies are picked out and purchased for the kiddos.  Shopping for the kids' Easter Baskets is a simple joy that I look forward to so much.  Little treats, nothing crazy but so much fun!

And that's what I have on my mind right now.  Thanks, Bloggy friends, for taking it away.

Rainy Sunday

When everyone is home and the house is completely quiet, I worry.
Upon realizing that there was peaceful silence I immediately jumped up and searched for the children.

I found Abby quietly destroying her room while playing with every single Barbie she owns.  Not her fault, her room is only about 10 square feet and she owns about 492 Barbie dolls, not including Ken and all the accessories.
We've always been lucky in her ability to entertain herself quietly, right from the beginning.  Baby dolls, Polly Pockets, Barbies... or just in her imagination.

Not hearing or seeing the boy, on the other hand, is disconcerting, to say the least.  I figured he might be sleeping.  I thought he may have been in the potty.  I walked into the living room and saw this:

Upon further investigation I found this:

On a lazy, rainy Sunday - where else should the bravest, strongest, sweetest, smartest, most adorable Superhero be?
Right here, in his secret hideaway...