Mantra Testing

My 2015 mantra to "LET IT GO" is being challenged in a serious way.  I am so trying to roll with the flow and let life happen, but I am struggling man. The lack of control is driving me batty. I'm starting to see why people don't make new year's resolutions or intentions - once you put it out there it feels like the universe is conspiring to see how well you can play out that intention.  Perhaps I shouldn't have chosen a mantra that is also the theme song to a popular Disney movie. I mean, it didn't work out so hot for Elsa there for a while.

So what am I struggling to let go of?

Our kitchen renovation. It came to yet another screeching halt yesterday.  As a recap, the first bump came with designer #1's $6,000 design price tag. Womp womp. At which point we changed directions and found a design-build firm who only charged $500 for the design, which gets refunded back to you if you sign on with them to do your project. I've met with designer #2 over a handful of times. Measurements have been taken. Design plans drawn up. Contractors have come to the house to provide their estimates for plumbing, electrical, HVAC and flooring. All of this was supposedly coming up on budget.

Then, last week designer #2 called to tell me that we needed to increase our budget $7,000 to correct the uneven floor, or we'd have to go with laminate or some other floating floor option, which they weren't really keen on. So I asked for a meeting with the designer, the owner of the company who made this decision and also asked for a breakdown of the budget to see where all the other money was being allocated. I asked for this meeting last Wednesday, but for whatever reason they couldn't meet us until 9am Tuesday morning. Then at 8am that morning I got a call from designer #2 saying they just couldn't do the project and would refund me our money. Apparently she could not get the numbers to work the whole time, even without the $7,000 bump. I never did see a budget breakdown, so I'm still not sure what the real story is. But I took my money back, cried a tear or two of frustration and decided the husband and I can tackle being our own general contractor. This should be a fun adventure.

Then there's my j.o.b. I know, I know, ain't nobody supposed to talk publicly about their job. I get it. But the fact of the matter is that things with my legal job are totally up in the air. I'm struggling to just be chill about the whole thing. I want to know the end result. I want to know where this is going. I want to know the destination.  I am really trying to enjoy the journey, but I'm finding that difficult with all the uncertainty. And yes, there was a big thing that happened recently to shake up the uncertainty even more than it already was, but at the end of the day, I'm still employed and I still am bringing home decent money for my family. I'm trying to focus on those things and less about titles and what may transpire down the road. I know I need to let go of the fear around this and just ride it out.

I'm also trying to let go of the speed with which my Beautycounter business is growing. By all accounts I'm doing a great job. I'm only in my 2nd full month and I'm completely happy with my progress, but it's hard to not compare to the speed of some of the other consultants. I see other consultants building their team each day (we have a huge support network on facebook, so I see when someone adds a new member) and so far I haven't recruited anyone. I know in time it will happen, but it is hard to not compare and feel like your'e doing something wrong. I know they may be doing Beuatycounter as a full time job and have much more time to commit to their business than I do, but it's hard to fight off that self-doubt. I am finding that motivation is something you have to give your self on a daily basis. It comes and goes.  But I'm trying to remind myself that as long as I keep moving forward, things are good. There is no competition for growing the fastest. I know in my heart that slow and steady is the right and perfect way for me, but sometimes I lose sight of that and want it to happen now.

It's just been an emotional couple of weeks. Everyone in our house has also been sick, so I know that's not helping things. I know I'm worrying my husband - he bears the brunt of it when I collapse and flip the switch from my usual positive self to walking around under the negative dark cloud that sometimes appears. I'm grateful to have him walking beside me and holding my hand when I need it the most.  

So I'm going to just keep singing along with Elsa and let the storm rage on.  And maybe for 2016 I'll go with Hakuna Matata as my mantra.  

On Moving and Positivity

Most days of the week I'm completely settled with the life move we've made this year. When asked how I'm liking Macon I reply without hesitation that we love it. And we do. There are so many things about moving that have been huge on the pro list. 

We love our house here (disregarding the kitchen which needs a complete overhaul). 

We love the short commutes and light traffic.

We love our nanny and the boys' new school (though I'll always have a soft spot for Primrose).

We love the new-found family time that we have gained by losing the heavy traffic and my new hours at work (I leave at 4:30 everyday). 

We love our neighborhood and new neighbors and downtown Macon has this appeal that just grows on you.

But there are days where I wonder if I am adjusting as well as I'm saying I am or if I'm trying to convince myself that I'm happy here.  And then I wonder if it really matters. If you fake something long enough, you eventually start believing it, right?  So I'm going to continue loving Macon and eventually those few pieces of me that are still not so sure will come around. That's my plan anyway.

Though I must admit that just because I do like it here and am overall happy we moved here (and yes, I would do it again if given the option), there are things I miss from home.

I miss my girlfriends. I have some great friends and I hate not being able to see them on a weekly basis. I miss our Sunday brunches at Radial with the kids and a frazzled waiter. I miss our play dates.  I miss our girls nights. I also really miss working with my coworkers. There's two girlfriends at work who made my work life so much fun and they're proving to be irreplaceable.  I miss them.

I miss my parents being close by and having a regular date night with my husband because of them. Luckily, both of these things are changing soon...my parents are moving to Macon!  And we actually already have our weekly date night back thanks to our nanny.

There are other things and places I miss.  Restaurants and places to take the kids (the zoo, the aquarium, splash pads and great parks). But those aren't leaving any empty holes in my heart, they're just old favorites that will be replaced by new Macon favorites in time..

I think I'm just having a reflective day and wondering what it's all about.  This life. What's the point? I haven't the answer.

But this move has taught me something really important about life and marriage.  We moved here for my husband's job. His dream job. I was scared and we talked a lot about whether or not I would resent him for moving us to a place I had no desire to go at the time. We decided it was unlikely and it could always just be a temporary move if need be.  So here we are.  Well, while it may have been scary for ME, it was the best decision for our family.  My husband LOVES his job. He is a different person than he was in Atlanta where work was trying many days. He is a different husband.  And our whole family has benefited from this move.  It really isn't just about you when you're married.  Sometimes you must take a leap of faith that things will work out.  And you must love and support your spouse and their dreams.  I suspect our marriage would certainly not have strengthened had I made him turn down this opportunity.

We still have bad days and bad moments. I get frustrated and I've been known to cry for no reason.  But that's just who I am, a crier.  A crier who is trying to make a new life in a new town.

I really do think I like it here.

Our Two Lawyer Marriage

Only three days into the reboot of our two career household and the bickering and side-eye rolls have begun. I hate that this is the reality, but it is. Don't read anything into this, or take it the wrong way. To be clear, our marriage is solid. We're deeply in love and neither of us is going anywhere. But that doesn't change the fact that marriage is hard and requires work. As into this man as I am, we're not Mr. and Mrs. Sunshine every day. So let's not pretend we are.

I think this is at the front of my attention because we've just had a shift in dynamics.  For almost two months, he has worked full time and I have stayed at home with the kids. My sole responsibility has been caring for our children (a full time job, for sure) and tending to our house. There were no legal clients for me to worry about, or a long to-do list of work and home that pulled me in different directions.

Just the kids and home. This included the grocery shopping, the cooking, the cleaning and the organizing. We never had a conversation delegating these tasks to me, it just happened. I could go to Kroger at 11am on Tuesday, while a full time 9-5er could not. I could start dinner at 4:30 and have whatever culinary creation I was up to making plated by 5:30. We even had time to play outside or go for a family walk before the baby's 6:30 bedtime rolled around. The bathrooms got wiped down during nap time and the washing machine was constantly running. And while I am about as far from a domestic goddess as one can get, I had no resentment towards my husband for having to do all these things. It honestly didn't cross my mind that he should be doing them. I took it on as my job.  Simple as that.

But then I went back to work full time. And the rushing and the feeling of never enough time is back. I hate that feeling. And suddenly I find myself jumping down my husband's throat for no reason at all.  And the poor man doesn't really have a chance. He asks what he can do to help with dinner, but I snap that I've got it, when I could really use a hand setting the table or chopping some vegetables. I am cold to him when our baby wants his dada and refuses to come to momma, as if this daddy stage is something he has caused. Yet I see the sadness on his face as he's rocking our boy before bed because his wife has tears in her eyes over something he has no control over. I feel like his questions about the nanny are accusations of things I'm clearly screwing up. I blame him for not letting the dog out in the morning which resulted in an accident and then nitpicked his use of the steam cleaner to clean the carpets.  I think you get the point.

There must be a connection between the uptick in disagreements and the reemergence of my job. When both spouses are working outside the home (and you have children), no one is really off the clock until the kids are in bed. You leave your office job and you come home and have to do all the home things. You have to cook dinner, clean the house AND spend quality time with the kids, when you're all tired and cranky after having had a full day already. It's clearly a recipe for disaster (at least for us).  And left unchecked for too long, I can see how the wheels can fall off a marriage over time.

So what to do? For me, the first thing is to apologize and admit that I'm a massive part of the problem. (Ok, so maybe I am the problem. Maybe.) And then I need to prioritize. What's important? For me, my discontentment is coming from feeling like I have no time with my boys now that I'm working again. Going from all day with them to just a few hours, is a stark difference. But if I'm going to continue with all this honesty, I'll admit that all day with two small children (especially in a town where you don't know anyone), is hard and lonely. Sure I had large quantities of time with my boys, but the quality was less than I'd like to admit. I took for granted the time with them. I didn't plan our days, I turned on the TV and I wasn't a "yes" mom who did tons (or any) of creative, educational, Pinterest-inspired activities. But now that I'm having to cram my time with them into a few short hours, I feel saddened and defeated. It's as though I've accepted that it's not enough time, so why even try? (Ugh, I hate realizing these things about myself!)  And why I take this out on the husband, I have no idea. My working is not something he pushed for - he is supportive of my career, but he is 100% on board with a full shift if that's what I decide at any given time I want.

So how do I spend the quality time with the boys in just a few short hours, while needing to also cook dinner, bathe them and tend to the home? For one, I can stop making dinner such a production. I think I worry too much about what I'm serving rather than focusing on who I'm breaking bread with! Family dinner should be more about the family than the dinner.  And then I need to give my boys my undivided attention - that means turning off the cell phone.  But that also means turning off the mental to-do list and setting aside anything that doesn't involve the boys. The dishes can be done after 7:45, but my boys can't stay up until then, so they dishes can wait.  Also, I can accept help when it is offered and set aside my criticism over the way the help is delivered. My way is not the only way.

I know it is going to take us some time to get used to my working again. I know I'll get used to my job and we'll find a new routine and a rhythm that works for all four of us. I also know when I'm in the wrong and when an apology is owed.  So love, this one's for you. I'm sorry I've been such a miserable wife the past day or two. I've obviously got some things to work on....

The Swans are Swimming

And by swimming, I mean moving.  We've finally figure out where we're going after this little jaunt at my parent's house.  And it's not where I would've thought a month or so ago.  We're heading about 100 miles south of Atlanta... to Macon!  Bizarre turn of events, I know.

So it all started a few months ago.  Maybe February.  After the end of the sequester all of the United States Attorney offices in the country posted job announcements - all the offices needed lawyers and they wanted to fill the positions while they had money in their budgets.  Being an assistant US attorney (a federal prosecutor for the United States for you non-law folks) has been one of Mr. Cob's goals for a few years now.  So we talked and decided he should apply. He picked a few offices all over the country, sent in his resume, cover letter and writing samples, and then we sat back and waited.  And waited some more. 

Would fate bring us back to his home of Chicago or close to his parents in Grand Rapids?  Maybe closer to my brother in San Diego?  The US Virgin Islands would be a nice change of pace.  Or perhaps our current home, Atlanta, would call and we could continue on with our regularly scheduled life while Mr. Cob put away the bad guys.  We were open to any possibility, figuring we'd make a final decision once it was in front of us - no use cutting off potential jobs because of location before you're even offered something, right?  Detroit was the only city I was really hesitant about even considering, but he assured me there are some upsides to the city?  Admittedly, I secretly hoped someone else called before Detroit. 

So for months we just waited and Mr. Cob continued applying as more jobs opened up.

Then he got a call from Savannah and we got all excited and hoped we'd be moving to the beach.  Unfortunately that didn't work out.  A month or so later, San Antonio called and I fell in love with the idea of canals and everything being bigger in Texas (margaritas included, right?).  A great interview followed by a few weeks of waiting ended in another rejection.  At this point, Mr. Cob was getting a bit down.  It seemed his dream job wasn't going to happen.  It'd been months since he sent out his initial batch of resumes.  A few other "you were one of hundreds of well qualified applicants but unfortunately we cannot offer you an interview at this time" letters came in the mail.  Hope was running out.

But the flip side of not getting a call was staying in Atlanta and continuing with our life here.  We love our life here.  We love our friends and I have a great job.  We love the boys school and my parents are here.  At the end of the day, we always knew we'd be happy to live the rest of our lives here in the A.

And then the Middle District of Georgia called.  And an interview was scheduled.  For my 33 birthday no less.  So he went to Macon and thought the interview went well.  A few weeks later they called back and asked him to come down for a second interview.  He felt confident after the second interview, but wasn't ready to get excited.  We'd done the excitement thing before and feared another round of rejection.  I didn't even look at houses online this time (oh the restraint!).  And then we found out they called his references, and we started to get excited.  Then last Wednesday he got the call that has changed the course of our life: he got his dream job and I couldn't be prouder to be his wife!

He called me before formally accepting the offer and without even considering the alternative, I said yes.  Of course, yes.  This is a HUGE opportunity for him and there was no way we weren't going to take it.  There were (and still are) a lot of unanswered questions, but I knew that we had to jump.  It's what you do when you're married and your spouse needs your support.  I'm not sure what this means yet for my job/career - I realize it means it will now be taking a back seat to his career, but that's OK.  This decision is the best for our entire family.  We'll figure out my job as we go.  I know there are a lot of feminists who will think I am wrong for more or less walking away from a lucrative career, especially when you consider I'm leaving a few months before potentially being put up for partner.  But like I said, it's not just about me.  I'm in talks with my firm to try to work something out - part time or contract work, and hopefully that will work out.  But maybe it won't and maybe that means another door will open.  I no longer know the path my career will take, but I've decided that a fork in the road doesn't necessarily mean I'll hit a dead end.

I'm nervous about moving to a city where I know next to no one.  I'm leaving a huge support network here of great friends, and even harder to leave are my parents.  I know this won't be an easy transition.  I know it will take time and effort for me to make friends.  I know it could be isolating moving and staying home with two small children should that be my fate.  I know I am going to be have to put myself out there, which is scary.

But I also know that everything is going to work out.  I'm so excited for this adventure with my husband and our boys.  I'm excited to find our next house and make it a home.  I'm excited to explore a new town and hopefully fall in love with all it has to offer.  But yes, I'm also scared as hell.  Change is frightening, but change can also be amazing.  So here's hoping this change is for the best!

My Solemn Vow: 4 Years Later

Mr. Cob and I celebrated our 4 year wedding anniversary this past week.  It is possible that I deserted him on our actual day while in Boston visiting an old friend.  The day came and went with little fanfare this year - we didn't even exchange cards. Mr. Cob wished me happy anniversary over my voicemail.  Our gift to each other is a week long vacation sans the kiddo in October.

Even though we weren't physically together on our anniversary this year, my heart still smiled. I love August 31st each year because it's the date I committed myself to another person. Four years ago on August 31 Mr. Cob and I looked in each other's eyes and said "lets do this!"  And each August 31st is a reminder to me of those vows I took and a time to recommit myself to our life together.  We're in this for the long haul.  There is no out.  We're clear on that point.

But it's not always easy, this marriage thing.  There are moments we don't like each other.  There have been whole days we don't want to talk to one another.  There are weeks we are tense around the house.  And I'm sure in the future there will be rough months and perhaps even years.  Sometimes we need a reminder that we love each other.  We need to remember what it was that made us fall in love with one another.  We need to recall those feelings we had when our love was still fresh and new.

Which is why I love August 31st.  It brings me back to Pine Mountain, Georgia where I cried and stuttered my way through vows that I wrote myself.  It reminds me that I promised to cherish this man.  I promised to love him.  I promised to support him.  I promised to listen to him.  For all the days of my life.

And he promised to make me laugh.  He promised a whole bunch of other things too, but this promise is the one that I cling to.  The one that ensures me that we can get through any rough patch.  The promise that will be there once beauty and youth fades. 

He has held tight to this promise and he has delivered.  I am a lucky woman to be married to this man who makes me laugh.  I am a lucky woman to be married to this man who approaches fatherhood with laughter (and the joy that cannot help but accompany laughter).  I am a lucky woman who laughs often.  I am a lucky woman.

My Mental Health Update

Because I just can't help but overshare, I'm back to talk about my mental health.

I feel like me again.  Actually, I started feeling like me again within a few days of starting on Zoloft.  I suspect this was the medication working.  My anxiety lessened.  My constant fear of failing at everything in my life lifted.  And most important, the immediate screaming voice inside my head urging me to make a sudden major life change finally shut up.  I no longer need to change everything in my life at that very moment.  And that was how I was feeling before I started on the antidepressant.

I do think the medicine is to thank for the quick fix and lifting the dark veil that I was swimming under.  But I also think the therapist helped me sort out things in my head.  And things were quite muddled in my head.  I yet again felt like I was doing my child a disservice by working.  I had convinced myself (again) that he was better off with me than in school all day long.  Finally after talking to my therapist, I realized the root of my problem: I had somehow developed the notion that the only way to be a good mom was to ONLY be a mom.  I was telling myself that I was already failing because I was not devoting all of my time and energy into being a mom.  I wasn't taking this mom thing seriously because it wasn't all I was doing.  I really thought that I wasn't a good mom since I had another title other than "mom".

My therapist helped me see the flaw in this reasoning (if you can even call it that).  Being a good mom is not dependent on being "just" a mom.  I can be a good mom AND also be a lawyer.  And perhaps, some of the things that make me a good mom are because I'm more than "just mom". 

We talked about the reasons I thought I'd be happier staying at home with Lukas.  And we talked about what the reality of that change would look like day to day.  We talked about the difficulties my SAHM friends tell me they have and my fears that I'd have those same difficulties, plus some.  We talked about how happy Lukas really is at school and how he's developing socially and why I think I need to change his environment when he really is thriving.  We talked about the fact that I'm jealous of my stay at home mom friends, but at the same time I'm thrilled to go to work and be an "adult" most days of the week.  We talked about how I love the people I work with and how my boss is amazing.  We talked about how I'm lucky to have female mentors at my firm who are mothers and are paving the way for more mom-partners at the firm.  We talked about what all I've done to get to this point in my career and whether or not I could really leave it behind to "just" be a mom.  We talked about what is really important to me and she helped me discover that I really do want more kids sooner rather than later even though that might slow my career a little.  We talked about my friendships and how friendships change when one friend becomes a mom and jumps into that new life when the other friend is still childless and unattached.  We talked about effectively communicating with your spouse. 

We're continuing to talk.

Before getting a therapist for myself, I didn't know the benefits of having one.  But now I think everyone really can benefit from some therapy.  And you might be surprised by the things that come out of your mouth when you're talking to an unbiased third party.  I know I was.

This whole experience has been a big lesson for me.  I realized that I was worried about what people would think about my decision to take an antidepressant and see a therapist.  I didn't want anyone to know.  I was worried about being judged.  I even went so far as to decide to stop writing this blog because I didn't want you all to know what was really going on in my head and my life.  I wanted to keep up the appearance that I have it all together.  That I was "doing it all".  

But instead of being judged, I was embraced and reminded that I'm not alone.  Other moms go through these exact same feelings of insecurity and questioning.  And for those of you that have and continue to reach out and share your own experiences and troubles with being a mom, I thank you. 

TTT - Can I Get a Hand?

In this week's episode of Toddler Tips Tuesday, we're going to talk working mom tips.  This may seem obvious to everyone else, but in case it's not (and because I don't have the brain capacity to come up with some earth shattering tip at the moment) here is my tip for this Tuesday: ask for help when you need it.

June is historically my busy month at work.  This June is no different and due to some unavoidable circumstances my group is down a few key players right now, which makes this busy month even busier for me.  In a nutshell, I have more work than I can possibly keep up with.  But I'm doing the best I can and weeding out most extracurricular activities (hence the lack of blog posts).

Today marks my 9th day in a row at the office.  Meaning that I worked IN THE OFFICE both Saturday and Sunday this week.  Our daycare isn't open on Saturdays or Sundays, so that meant I needed to make arrangements for Lukas.  My parents kept him Friday night through Saturday afternoon and then Mr. Cob kept him all day Sunday.  Working all weekend also meant that I couldn't run any of the usual weekend errands.  But my boys did the grocery shopping for the week and Mr. Cob took Lukas on the scheduled play date.  Mr. Cob folded all the laundry and took care of the yard.  He's been making dinners or taking us out to eat.  My mom even sent us home with food and a girlfriend fed my boys on Sunday afternoon.

A year ago I would've been really upset about missing both full weekend days with my little guy and husband.  I would've wondered why I'd had a baby when I had to put him in day care all week and not even get to spend every waking hour with him on the weekends.  I certainly would have felt extreme guilt about not "raising" him myself.

While I wouldn't go so far to say that I love working all weekend, I now know that  I'm not a bad mom for being a working mom who has to work long hours and sometimes all weekend. How do I know this?   In the 24 hours that my mom watched Lukas this weekend she taught him how to say circle, "momma work", and noodle.  She convinced him to eat fruits that I can't get him to touch and she also taught him to jump into the pool. When I walked in my parent's house Lukas looked up at me, smiled and yelled MOMMA, but continued to read on the sofa with my mom.  He was happy to see me, but was clearly continuing to thrive without me.  


On Sunday, Mr. Cob didn't keep the same strict schedule with Lukas that I usually set.  He took a nap an hour later than usual and he gave him some snacks I wouldn't have chosen.  But Lukas was happy and still went to bed on time without a fight that night.  We have different parenting styles, but both work equally well.  (A fact I have to periodically remind myself.)  And my husband loved spending the entire day with his son without having to compete (my word) with me for Lukas' attention.  What can I say, he's a momma's boy, but I know it can be hard for Mr. Cob to hear Lukas always ask for me instead of him, and the least I can do is step out of the way once in a while.  


So instead of looking at my "lost weekend" with mommy guilt (as I would have a year ago), I now see the weekend for what it was: I gave Mr. Cob the gift of daddy time and my mom the gift of grandma time.  And it's OK that other people were doing the things that I "should" have be doing myself.


I'm not a bad wife for not being able keep up the house, always watch our son, iron my husband's shirts and make breakfast, lunch and dinner with a smile.  I'm a good mom and wife for helping to financially support our family and continue to succeed in my chosen career path.  I'm a good mom and wife for maintaining an identity that is important to me other than "mom" and "wife".  I'm a good mom and wife.  Period.

I think as moms and wives we put unnecessary pressure on ourselves and feel as though our little world will fall apart if we're not always there holding it together.  But we need to give ourselves a break and know that the world will continue to spin, with or without us.  We need to accept the help when it is offered.  And more, we need to ask for help when we  get in over our heads and are having trouble continuing to swim.

Reaching Here

Ok, so the feedback from the new buttons has had me all jazzed about posting more often and getting some more Love or Funnies (No Hate yet!?!).  Problem is, I'm out of things to say. Well, I mean, I always have things to say, but I'm plum out of things to say that I think anyone wants to hear about.  But then again, that's never stopped me before.

Here are the posts I have started writing in the past few days and then stopped for whatever reason:

1.  I know that I shouldn't compare myself to other people, but I can't help it.  Lately I feel like I'm comparing myself to others ALL. THE. TIME.  And it's not good for my sanity.  But yet, I still do.  I stop at this point because the rest of this post just makes me sound like I'm whining and feeling inferior than everyone else, and nobody wants to hear that.  So I'll end that woe-is-me post at that.  At least this shows I'm not always Polly Positive.

2.  I'm a much more sane person when I take time for myself.  The past few weeks I've done that a lot.  I went to Charleston with the girls two weekends ago and my soul was better for it.  We laughed, we exercised, we even danced in the VIP section of some bar we were much too old to be in.  It was an amazing trip (although, Lukas would disagree...).  This weekend I continued taking some time out for me - my ATL girlfriends and I went and got our hair did at The Dry Bar Saturday morning, went to brunch and shopping afterwards and then had a group Valentines Day date night that evening.  Mr. Cob and I sometimes talk about moving away from Atlanta, and then we think about how great our friends are here and realize they're irreplaceable.  We really are lucky to have such great friends.

3.  Apparently I get insomnia two hours after falling asleep if I drink more than two glasses of wine.  A grandmother who does overnight babysitting with the little man is a necessity if momma wants a night out.  Reason #452 we should never leave Atlanta.

4. Tomorrow Mr. Cob and I will celebrate our 7th Valentines Day together.  I don't remember what I got him for our first V-day together, but he bought me pink bowling shoes and we went bowling.  He gets me.  The way to my heart is through shoes. 

5.  The little man said "apple" and "elephant" (well, sort of, kind of, you could get there, really) this weekend.  Dude is going to start talking for real any day now. 

Complete Bullshit

Ok, so I just figured out how to view my blog stats and come to find out that out of my top 5 posts of all time (out of about 300ish), TWO of them are posts THAT I DID NOT WRITE. They are posts that MR. COB WROTE. What the fuck. Seriously? This is depressing to me.

This means one of many things:

1. Mr. Cob is much funnier than me. (Blah, Blah, Blah. Mr. Cob is great, Mr. Cob is funny. Blah. He gets it all from me. Don't let his humor fool you. It's not the improv classes, or the voice impersonations, or the random ass jokes that can make a room full of people laugh. He gets it from me. I'm the inspiration for his jokes, anyway.)

2. I am not funny. No, no, that can't be it.

3. Mr. Cob is more interesting than me. (Hum, lets do a comparison:


• Mr. Cob = lawyer. Me = lawyer.
• Mr. Cob = 30 years old. Me = 30 years old.
• Mr. Cob = oldest child. Me = youngest child
• Mr. Cob = video gamer, baseball lover, scrabble enthusiast, beer maker, dad. Me = wine drinker, sushi eater, wine lover, runner, wino, writer, mom.


Nope, we're practically the same person, so he's not more interesting than me. Definitely not.)

4. I promote his blog posts more than my own. (This is the only logical explanation as to why his posts get more hits than mine. I broadcast his posts on facebook and shout to the world: "read what my hubby wrote." And then you do. Yes, this must be the reason. He's not funnier than me.)

Well now that THAT is settled I'm going to go cry in a corner and attempt to forget that I don't even write the most popular posts ON MY OWN BLOG.

Stay tuned. I'll see if my celebrity fame-whore husband will write a guest post for your enjoyment soon.

Mr. Cob's 30

Mr. Cob's sis sent me some pictures from our weekend in Chicago for Mr. Cob's birthday and I thought I'd share them.  Happy Friday!

Me and Mr. Cob

Me and My sis-in-law

Comedy show action



Mr. Cob & the Fruncles - aka, his BFFs from home



The Birthday Boy!

Me, Me, Me

Enough about the little dude for a minute.  Let's talk about me.  (Egocentric? Yes.  It happens.)

So what have I been up to?  (I'm assuming you've been wondering this. No?  Ok, well, whatever.  Just go with it.  Or stop reading.  Either way.) 

I'd say that right now I'm still identifying most with the title of "mom".  I feel like I'm finally comfortable in this roll and actually good at it.  I like taking care of Lukas, I like every aspect of being a mom so far.  Even the dirty diapers, laundry and other mundane tasks.  Mothering is definitely one of the things I was meant to do in this life.  I'd be lying if I said I don't get frustrated, mainly when I'm in the middle of trying to soothe a teething boy or cleaning the poop out of the tub, but even those are things that I find joy in.  Because they're all for this little guy.  And he's just so cute and in this great stage of learning and changing so much right now.

But I said we weren't here to talk about him.

I'm still working full time.  I'm now in my 5th year as a lawyer, at the same firm I started with out of law school.  Most days I love my job.  The people are what make it great.  My boss is understanding and respectful of the fact that I have a family, and because of that, I have a more positive outlook towards work and don't mind working in the evenings and weekends, if need be.  I leave work at 5 on the dot most days, which gives me a few hours with Lukas in the evenings.  But it's hard to juggle work and home life, especially when I'm busy.  I've been getting in the office around 8 every day, working until 5 and then about every other day I end up working a few hours at night after Lukas goes to bed.  This leaves little time for housework, leisurely activities, friends and even Mr. Cob.  Time management and trying to do everything I want to do is the hardest part of being a working mom.  I usually feel like I'm neglecting someone or something in my life.  Often, that someone is myself.  I'm having a hard time fitting in exercise time, which is something that I enjoy doing and something that makes me feel good about myself.  And if I do find time to exercise, that's time that I'm not able to spend with Mr. Cob.  And time with him, especially alone, is hard to come by these days.  I still don't know how some women do it all, and make it look easy.  Because it's not.  But I'm trying to figure it out as we go and not beat myself up in the process.

While I can't find too much time to exercise, I have managed to lose ALL of the baby weight.  As in all SIXTY FIVE plus pounds of it.  And then some.  (But let's not mention the fact that I've lost a ton of muscle tone too...).  I was doing Weight Watchers, and am still signed up for it, but have been bad about keeping track of my points the past two weeks.  WW definitely helps you realize what you are eating and change your habits as needed.  But the other reason I swear I've been able to get rid of this weight is because I'm still nursing.  I really believe it's helped me get the weight off.  I'm almost at the 11 month mark of breastfeeding and plan on continuing until Lukas is one and then cutting back or stopping altogether.  I've heard that your body drops another 5ish pounds once you stop nursing, so that'll be a nice plus at the end.  I would like to tone up and get some muscle definition back, as well as work out a few times a week.  Now with the cooler weather coming in, I can take Lukas out in the jogging stroller and hopefully get back in to running.  And it really does feel great to fit back in my clothes again.  It may have taken 9-10 months to drop the weight, but that's how long it took me to gain the baby weight and I'm not a crazy celebrity non-eating woman, so I'll take the 9-10 month time frame.  And the best part, I not only have my old, thinner body back, but I now have boobs to go with it.  Maybe I'll never stop nursing...Just kidding.  Maybe.

Well that's enough about me for now.  I'm sure I'll write about the little guy again soon.  I just can't help myself.  I'm obsessed.

Here I Am...

Life has been happening lately.  So blogging has not.  Not that anyone has probably missed me.  Anyone even out there?  Hello???

So what have we been up to?  In a nutshell:

Lukas started walking.  Like for real walking.  As in, he can walk clear across a room without falling.  Does this mean I have a toddler?  Toddle is a good description of the way in which he walks.  I need to get a good video, but in the mean time, picture a miniature drunk sailor wobbling along half running taking lots of mini shuffle-esque steps with his hands raised in the air.  Usually with a big grin.  Onlookers tend to smile after seeing this silliness.  It's infectious.

Mr. Cob turned 30 and I managed to plan and execute a surprise 30th birthday trip to Chicago for him (and me and Lukas).  His brother from Miami flew in, his sister and her boyfriend spent the weekend with us, his two childhood best friends helped us celebrate (one driving in from Iowa and the other secretly helped me plan the whole thing along with his sis) and his parents babysat - it was amazing! We even fit in a playdate with two of Mr. Cob's college buddies and their kids.  We had a quick trip, but it was so fun.  I love Chicago and feel like I'm supposed to live there one day.  Probably not any day soon because I would want to live in the city, and I think we've missed that window for the time being.  I told Mr. Cob that when our kiddos are grown and we have more money than we do today, maybe we can rent a condo in downtown Chicago and live there for a year.  It just makes me so happy to be outside walking down Michigan Avenue.  I think I'm a city girl at heart.


We have a busy fall ahead of us full of family and friend visits, a wedding, two trips to the beach, Lukas' baptism and then his first birthday.  Life is busy, but good.

What Do I Say After That?

I've sat down to write a few posts in the past week since my last one, but nothing seemed "right". Every topic seemed cavalier compared to what my two friends were going through. It seemed almost rude to follow up a post about two babies in the hospital with a post about what my silly baby is doing. My heart goes out to these two families and I’ve also felt a tinge of guilt for having a healthy child myself. Which, I know, is silly. But I love these friends dearly and keep praying that both kiddos will be ok. Seeing these parents deal with what they have been has made me reevaluate what is important in life and spend as much time as possible with my loved ones.

Speaking of my loved ones – look at these two sweet guys:

The taller one and I celebrated our 3rd wedding anniversary last week.  Well, we had it.  We're celebrating this week.  Our usual babysitters were in California visiting my brother so we postponed our dinner out and gift-giving a few days.  We stick with the traditional wedding gifts, so we'll see what leather gifts we each come up with this year...
 
Oh and we broke our anniversary tradition.  (Can you call it a tradition if you've only done it two years?)  We've watched our wedding video every year on our anniversary.  But neither one of us remembered this year.  At all.  Until two days later, at which point it was too late.  The tradition was broken.  I think we'll pick it up again next year.  Or not.
 
As for the shorter little dude.  He will be TEN months old in a few days.  Two days to be exact.  (Where did the time go?)  He decided he'd start walking this weekend!  At first he'd just walk from the ottoman to the couch (2 steps).  And by walk, I mean teeter.  And then last night he definitely took 4 steps to give me a hug!  I love my little man.  And I love my big man.  I'm a lucky girl having these two guys in my life.  They make me smile.

Guess the "Artist"...

First Date Flashbacks

Grandma Sip Sip is babysitting Lukas overnight tonight.  That means Mr. Cob and I are going out on the town! 

And by out on the town I mean out to dinner with friends.  We're wild like that.

So as any reader of this blog knows, I'm pretty baby-centric these days.  I have been for the past 9 months and two days.  Oh wait, you better add 9 more months on to that for when I was pregnant and baby-centric.

Naturally, over that time we've tended to hang out with our other kidded couple friends or about-to-be parent friends.  This way we can all bring our babies along and still have a social life.  Our talks usually revolve around babies, with occasional side conversations about such things as "Lesbians who look like Justin Bieber" or other, intelligent topics.

But tonight we're going to dinner with some "no kid" friends.  They're not anti-kid (as far as I know), they just don't have kids yet.  And the worst thing you can do with your "no kid" friends is talk about your kid the entire time.  No one likes that parent.

So in an effort to not be that parent, I've been reading various newspapers and trying to brush up on current events so I can pretend that I know what is going on in the world.  I'm secretly (or, ehm, not so secretly now) coming up with an emergency list of topics to talk about that have nothing to do with kids.

Maybe Mr. Cob and I should come up with a "safe word" in case one of us heads down that dreaded path.

I feel like I'm going on a blind date.

And I thought my dating days were over.

Wish us luck!  And feel free to send me any hip, cool conversation topics.

And if you're reading this and having dinner with me tonight, know that I am really excited and have already picked out the bottle glass of wine I plan on ordering!

Mind block

Yea, yea, I realize I haven't written in almost two weeks.  It's not intentional, I promise.  Its just that I don't feel like I have anything to say that anyone would want to read about.  I mean, do you really care about reading the full story for the following blog Titles?

1.  Date Night: Do I get points for staying out past midnight?!

2. Church Search Complete? Maybe, thanks to the internet informing me that the pastor is gay.

3.  "Bup, Bup" = Puppy?: Tales of interpreting the speech of an 8 month old

4.  Get down from that [insert piece of furniture here]!: Our child likes to climb (Alternative title: We are so f*cked)

5.  9 months to put it on, 9 months to take it off

6.  Beware of Older Women: Lukas gets his First Kiss

So those would be the six blog posts I'd write if I were writing a post.  I doubt anyone will miss the actual stories, right?

2 Parents, 2 Ways

The little man's fruncles are in town visiting.  What's a fruncle you ask?  A fruncle is an honorary uncle.  A close male friend of a child's parents.  Friend-Uncle = Fruncle.  Get it?  I don't know who coined the phrase, either Mr. Cob or one of the fruncles, but regardless, some one said it and it stuck. 

Mr. Cob's two best childhood friends are the two fruncles who are visiting right now.  Mr. Cob has been looking forward to their visit for months.  And now they're here.  Today they are home brewing cherry beer while I go to work.  They decided to keep the little man at home for the day rather than send him to school.  I asked Mr. Cob if he was sure he could handle watching him, brewing beer and doing whatever else guys do.  He reassured me that they'd be fine by telling me there were three of them, and one of Lukas, so not to worry.

My first thought was to worry.  The fruncles are both single and kid-less.  Neither of them have spent too much time around a baby, so I don't know how much help they'll be in the "taking care of baby" part.  But Mr. Cob will be home all day.  Mr. Cob is Lukas' father.  So I shouldn't be concerned at all about Lukas spending the whole day in his daddy's care.  But a small part of me is.  And I realized its because Mr. Cob has not spent an entire day with Lukas alone yet.  I guess I fear he doesn't know what to do with him.  But he's a smart man and what he doesn't know, he can figure out.

If I'm really being honest, the problem is that I know they'll be fine, but I'm pretty sure Mr. Cob won't do things with Lukas the way that I would do them.  And I need to be OK with that.  I need to realize that Mr. Cob is Lukas' daddy and he loves Lukas just as much as I do.  He will do what he thinks is best for him.  And while his parenting style may be different than mine, that's OK.  (And yes, you can have a "parenting style" with a 5 month old.  Really, you can.)  Lukas won't be harmed or worse off if he naps in his swing rather than in his crib.  And his belly will be full whether he eats his cereal at 10am or 11:30am. Or if he doesn't eat cereal at all and just has milk.

I need to relinquish control and give Mr. Cob the opportunity to take care of him.  I don't think I do this enough.  For instance in the middle of the night if Mr. Cob goes downstairs to try to soothe Lukas back to sleep, I can't help but stare at the monitor and eventually go down there and "help".  I'm sure this is frustrating to Mr. Cob.  He doesn't even have the chance to succeed.  I guess I always think that I'm right and that I know what is best.  But in reality, I don't.  I'm just guessing most of the time.

But today is different.  Today Mr. Cob is on his own.  I'm not there even if he does need or want my help.  I'm forced to stay away by virtue of distance.  I can't step in if I think Mr. Cob isn't doing something "my way".  I know they'll be fine, but oh what I wouldn't give to be a fly on the wall!

Hello Old Friend

For about six months now I've been apart from something very dear to me.  But today we are reunited.  Today as I drove to work, with my hands upon the steering wheel, I smiled.  As I sit in front of my computer with my hands on the keyboard, I smile.  And as I reach to pick up my coffee cup with my left hand, I smile.  My wedding band is finally back where it belongs, on my left hand ring finger.

 

It is a little tight, but it's no longer cutting off the circulation in my finger, so I figured I could wear it.  I've missed it.  I've missed what it symbolizes. I've missed the daily reminder it provides me of my wedding day, and the memories from that day.  I know its just a ring, just a piece of jewelry, but it's one of my most treasured possessions. 

 

Unfortunately, its best friend is a no show.  My engagement ring is still on the tight side and somehow putting them both on together made my finger freak out.  So half of the whole is back.  Hopefully in another few weeks, with a few more pounds shed, I'll be able to wear them both together.  (Although, I've been told that the final bit of swelling sometimes does not go away until you finish nursing.  So it could still be a while.)

 

As for the weight loss, I'm getting there.  To date I've lost roughly 52 pounds since Lukas was born.  I still have 14 to go until I'm back at my pre-baby weight (and we won't mention the 10 more I'd like to lose after that...) (and yes, that would mean in total I packed on about 66 pounds.  Yup, that's double what you're supposed to gain.  No I did not eat bins of ice cream every day of my pregnancy, although next time around I just might.  No, I was not a cute pregnant girl.  I was huge.  That is all.) 

 

I wish I could say I was working out every day and eating only vegetables, but I'm not.  I'm working out maybe 2 times a week, on a good week.  As for the eating, I'm doing Weight Watchers online.  It seems to be working as I'm losing about 1.5 to 3 pounds per week.  The somewhat frustrating thing is that I have a serious appetite right now, which I think is in part (or in total) due to nursing.  My body is still working really hard to produce food for my baby boy and that takes energy.  So it's a catch 22 to make sure I eat enough to continue producing enough milk, but not too much so that I keep losing this weight.

 

I know I'm being hard on myself and I should give myself a break.  But it's a battle every morning to get dressed. Some days its good because clothes that fit a few weeks ago are now baggy and hanging off me, but my normal clothes still don't fit for the most part.  So most days I look ridiculous as I put together whatever clothes I can find that somewhat fit and resemble an outfit of sorts.  I'm looking forward to fitting back in my normal clothes and looking somewhat stylish again. 

 

And it will happen.  It'll just take some time.  But for now, I'll revel in the small victories.  Like wearing my wedding band again.

25 hours

I read in a baby sleep book this week that our internal body clock actually runs on a 25 hour day.  Perhaps this is why I always feel like there aren't enough hours in the day.  We are missing one hour each day.  I could use this extra hour.  Who do I need to talk to about changing the number of hours in a day?  Hum...

So yea, I'm busy.  Which is why I haven't written in a week.  I've missed writing and had such great intentions of stealing away for ten minutes to post something, but it just hasn't happened.  I'm working full time and actually busy at work - I billed three hours this past Sunday and even worked a few nights last week.  And when I'm not working, I'm being a mom.  And when I'm not being a mom I'm being a wife.  And when I'm not being a wife I'm trying to squeeze in a few minutes on the treadmill.  Or sleep.  Or do laundry.  Or clean the house.  Or breathe.  Or drink some wine.  Can't forget the wine.

I know, I know.  I am not the first woman to go back to work after having a baby.  But it's the first time for me.  And its an adjustment.  I feel like I'm getting everything done, just not 100% of the way or 100% perfect.  I'm convinced women who "do it all" are either (a) lying or (b) snorting coke.  I'm not one for either of those vices.  So I've had to be OK with letting some things go.

If you come to my house, there will probably be dog hair in the corners or laundry needing to be folded.  If you put me on a scale, you'll see I still have lots of baby weight to lose.  If you see me at the office, I'll have a cup of coffee in my hand and my hair probably isn't "done".  And if you see me with my baby, he may still have on the clothes from the night before.  But hopefully, when you see me, I'll have a huge smile on my face.  It's not about being perfect.  Lord knows I'm not even close.  And to be honest, I'm not even trying to be perfect.  I'm trying to be happy.  And I am.



No Cruise For You

Mr. Cob’s parents celebrated their 30th wedding anniversary earlier this year. Mr. Cob and I have another 28+ years to go, but hopefully will follow in their footsteps (and my parents for that matter – they’ll celebrate 38 years this Fall!). So as a gift, Mr. Cob and his siblings are taking their parents on a family Caribbean cruise. I have a mild to moderate case of claustrophobia and the thought of being in a small cabin room on a cruise scares me. And the thought of being in one pregnant, causes me to go into a near panic attack. So after some discussion, Mr. Cob and I decided it would be best if I stay on dry land while the Swan family cruises.

Well, as it turns out, it was a good decision because I wouldn’t have been allowed to board the cruise ship had I booked a ticket! I randomly stumbled upon an article today about cruise ships having “pregnancy policies” and proceed to peruse Royal Caribbean’s website for such a policy. Sure enough, women who are or will be in their 24th week of pregnancy are not allowed on the cruise! And if you are pregnant, prior to your 24th week, you have to have physician’s “fit to travel” note in order to board. I’ll be 30th weeks when the family cruise leaves port…definitely past the 24 week mark.

So, if you have a yearning to go on a cruise, better to get it out of the way before getting knocked up. And cross “cruise” off the list for babymoon options. So I guess this explains the lack of baby bumps on cruise ships. In case you were wondering.