Monthly Archives: June 2011

Does my butt look big?

**Just a quick note: I realize that I unintentionally left a few of you hanging yesterday. To my knowledge I am not pregnant. I’m just in a constant state of paranoia that I am, so I like to take pregnancy tests whenever they’re available. For example, because I have to go get blood work for my thyroid I asked her to just do a quick little pregnancy test on my blood too. See, I’m psychotic.**

Tuesday night was a pretty rough night for me. I was tired. I was sore. I’d pushed myself hard at the gym two days in a row and I was paying for it…big time. We put Zoe down at about 8:45 and I went to just lay on my bed. Brad came in and sat beside me because he didn’t have a clue what was going on with me. I started crying…no reason, just crying, and just started at him. That poor, poor man. Finally I blurted out, “I mean, has my body changed AT ALL?” Dead silence. I stared him down. He mumbled and fumbled around and then said, “Well, your hips.” That threw me for a loop. I thought maybe he would say my biceps or something. But, “My hips? My hips? You think my hips are skinnier?” At that point he was laying down on the bed and he held his hands up like way more than shoulder width apart and started talking. I just shrieked, “ARE MY HIPS REALLY THAT BIG?!?!?!?!” A look of panic flashed across his face and he started talking and motioning and mumbling all at the same time, “No! I didn’t mean that! No! I was trying to motion, shape! There’s shape.” I suggest the word “toned”, he says “YES! TONED! Your hips are more TONED!” And then I laughed. Hard.

It was completely unfair to ever ask Brad that question, because, let’s be honest, he never stood a chance. What guy does, really? It’s like quicksand. But still, as a woman, I feel compelled to ask…I guess he’ll have to live with it the rest of his life. On a serious note, one of the reasons that I’m motivated to lose weight is to look “good” for my husband. I mean, isn’t that what every wife wants? I guess probably not. But, I want to know that I can turn his head. He’s told me on numerous occasions that I don’t have to lose weight for him. It’s really freeing. It makes me want to even more, not even in a reverse psychology kinda way, but a really good, healthy way. He loves me just the way I am. He loves looking at me, just the way I am. Isn’t that awesome? You wanna know what one of my very favorite things about Brad is? He tells me that I’m beautiful when I’m wearing yoga pants and a t-shirt, when my hair is all kinds of crazy and Zoe just spit her food all over me. He also tells me I’m beautiful when I get all dolled up for a night out. It’s good for a girls heart to have that kind of balance.

Our not so quick trip to the Dr office

I don’t know about you, but I have to practically be dying to go to the doctor. I’m not dying…but I did go to the doctor today. For the past couple weeks Jacksonville has had incredibly bad air quality due to smoke from the forest fires that we’re surrounded by. Right about the time the smoke got really bad I started having these crazy coughing spells that would totally take over my body, my esophagus would feel like it was closing, I couldn’t breathe, I would get nauseous, and I would have to drink water to relax whatever the heck was going on in my chest. After a few of these coughing spells, coupled with just general shortness of breath, and waking up a few times in the middle of the night not being able to breathe, I decided it was time to see a doctor. And, because I practically never go to see the doctor, I figured this would be a great time to talk about all the other issues going on, ’cause I’m smart like that.

Because I don’t plan ahead, and because I woke up in the middle of the night last night unable to breathe and decided I couldn’t go another day, I made my appointment for the closest to when I left the gym today, cancelled my playdate, prayed Zoe would sleep in the car during our intermission, and headed to the doctor. I sent Brad a text that I was going to the doctor and he asked if I wanted him to come and take care of Zoe. I hadn’t even thought of that. I forgot to actually answer his question and just focused on the task ahead: keep Zoe entertained at lunch time, with almost no nap, in a doctor’s office that runs late like it’s their day job. We did just fine in the waiting room, the nurse brought us in about 20 minutes after our appointment was supposed to start, held Zoe while I weighed myself {down 6lbs!}, took my blood pressure, and then temperature. Zoe was sitting in my lap and grabbed the thermometer out of my mouth. Then cried when we had to take it away from her. I asked the nurse if she could have one of those cover thingamajigs and she immediately pretended like she was getting her temperature taken too. What a dang cutiepie! The nurse ushered us into our exam room and asked when my last menstrual cycle was. I told her I couldn’t remember. She raised an eyebrow. I brushed it off because I know that I’m nursing but asked her if I could do a pregnancy test anyways…you know how I like my pregnancy tests!

Zoe and I go into the bathroom and chaos begins to ensue immediately. I put Zoe on the floor and hand her a pee cup still in its plastic wrapper. I think I was so focused on not peeing on my hand that I didn’t notice when Zoe stopped playing with her cup and came to play with mine…that I was currently peeing in. Before I even knew what was happening she was standing in between my legs reaching for my cup. I instinctively slammed my knees together which resulted in two things 1) Zoe plopping herself on the ground and crying because she couldn’t have my cup, and 2) I definitely peed on my hand. Zoe continued going after the pee cup while I finished up and because I had peed on my other hand I couldn’t stop her, so I just kept blocking with my knees. I flushed the toilet with my elbow, hopped up and hobbled to the sink with my pants around my knees because I couldn’t pick them up, because I had a cup full of pee in one hand and actual pee on the other. Zoe kept crying. I started singing {and bopping} the “Itsy Bitsy Spider”, still at the sink, still with my pants around my knees, and Zoe finally quit crying. I laughed at how completely ridiculous my life can be sometimes.

I swooped Zoe back up and we headed back into our room to wait for the doctor. There was an immediate knock on the door and Brad walked in the room, it surprised the mess out of me! Oh.my.word. Have I told you how much I love that man? He is my dragon slayer extraordinaire. I told him that I wish he’d been there just a little bit earlier because I could’ve really used him in the bathroom. He told me he was on the other side of the wall and he heard everything. He picked Zoe up and they left to get some lunch. All of a sudden the subconscious stress that I was under to entertain Zoe was gone. The doctor came in and we had a nice little chat. She’s sending me for a slew of tests {some of which I’m not too happy about but I understand} and then she recommended a dermatologist for my feet and some skin stuff. Let’s just say that July is going to be a month of appointments! God help me. Brad came back with Zoe right at the end of my time with the doctor. We spent another 30 minutes tying up a few loose ends and then we were done. All in all, an hour and a half after the appointment was supposed to start we were through. They want to see me in a month to reassess my lungs. I think next time I’m going to get a babysitter. ‘Cause I’m smart like that.

**editors note: I am not pregnant. At least not to my knowledge. I’m just psychotically paranoid that I am, which is why I asked for the pregnancy test. Because it’s free there, and it costs money at Target. I would take a pregnancy test every week if it was free.**