Coming Down

Y'ALL! I did it! I officially had the exit interview, I turned in my laptop and all my things and came home and cooked dinner for once! And spent time with my little tiny tornado until she went to bed.  And then watched football, but was so tired that I fell asleep at half-time.  Didn't even get to see our first win live,, but it's ok, Mama was tired.  I even slept in this morning during a torrential downpour and loved it.

Well, not really "in", because I had to get up with a toddler at 6:30, but nonetheless, having some time in bed snuggling with her without the usual morning rush was really nice.  She did manage to elbow me in the face a few times, it's like sleeping inside your dryer when a toddler decides to join you in your bed.  

We did manage to make it to the grocery store in the tropical storm and make it back in one piece.  It was not super crazy like I thought it would be, but, there was one point when the wind and rain made the lights flicker and I had a near panic attack.  We managed to make it out alive and not drenched.  I call that a mommy win.

Now that LE is down for a nap (AFTER WALKING A FEW STEPS, YAY!), I am having a chance to sit here and reflect on this week.  It's been a big one, which I already wrote about on Wednesday night.  Yesterday was a little more emotional than I anticipated.  I had to hold back some tears with certain friends, because I've seen them every day for the better part of 5 years.  They have influenced me and taught me so much.  When I told my team good-bye, they all grabbed their cowbells and rang them on my way out, and I felt like Rocky Balboa! It was such a good feeling to feel so loved. 

That being said, I had MAJOR plans today to do thing like deep clean my house, do 4 loads of laundry, and cook a gourmet meal.  Well, #1, daycare being closed slightly derailed that plan.  But as soon as I got up this morning, I wrote in my journal and the one thing that I heard over and over in my head was "rest".  REST?! Um I have so much to do around here! I just couldn't imagine sitting around in the quiet not doing much of anything. 

But that's exactly what I'm doing right now.  I've got the Food Network on, toys in the floor, and laundry piled high to fold.  I'll get to it.  But for now, I'm enjoying being able to write again and share my daily dose of nonsense with everyone.  I may not get it right all the time in life, but I like to think that I've had some good and bad experiences that I can share and maybe inspire someone.  

Coming down from such a big change in life is like coming off of bike ramp at full speed, but then you slow down and come to a stop and think hmmmmm, now what? That's exactly where I am.  I have 10 days until my new job starts, but in that time, I have a good plan.  Here goes. 

I'm going to start those 10 days with prayer and sending love to those around me.

I'm going to buy Starbucks for the person in line behind me and hope they have a great day. 

I'm probably going to take MULTIPLE trips to my fave store Target and try and redecorate my humble abode. 

I'm going to pay attention to my husband more, cook some real meals, and have a date night or two.  We don't get to do that often enough, but for all he does for me, I'm going to put some time back into our life together as a couple.

I'm going to write more and change my blog name and design (if anyone knows good web designers that need a new project, let a sister know). 

I'm going to have lunch with friends I haven't seen in while and enjoy their company.

I'm going to put my cell phone away and just get quiet. 

I'm going to make it to the gym 4 times a week next week! (I've sucked at it lately, hard to go when you're wrapping things up at work). 

Last but not least, I'm going to spend some time by myself just thinking and planning.  Writing down my goals.  Learning all I can about what I'm about to do.  

These next 10 days, I'm finally going to rest. 

Happy Friday you guys! 

My 100th Post!!!

Hi guys!

It's me.....Rebecca D. I know, WHO you ask? It's been awhile. But fear not, the return of regular posting is coming to you starting now!

This week marks a culmination of a lot of awesome things and why not share about it with my 100th blog post?!?!?!?!?!?

First of all, my sweet nugget is 15 months old tomorrow and I am floored every single day at what a fun little girl she was become. A year ago, she was so small, giggly and sometimes gassy. Today, she is in full force toddler mode, trying to walk, pointing, talking, and holding my hand while saying "mama, mama". Though toddler-hood is frustrating and very daunting, I LOVE watching her morph into her own person. She is very headstrong (maybe stubborn is a more accurate term), fiercely independent, eats anything you put in front of her, and loves her daddy.

I die at the cuteness. Seriously, She is so sweet and funny...and stubborn. But I said that already. I digress.

Second of all, I just sat here and did a Facebook purge and I feel SO GOOD ABOUT IT. Recently, I've just felt this need to not have one million friends. Rather, I'd like to cherish the 5 good friends I have (and my biffy of course, Jarrett), and spend my real time with them. Something about trying to be a better friend and wife has really hit home with me lately. I don't need 910 friends. I don't need to know, random person from high school, what drama you're having very publicly with your ex. Super sorry to all of you that can't read this now. Maybe I'm not sorry.

Sorry, not sorry.

                                    

Lastly, I'm wrapping up my last week at my full time job, and will be starting a new job on 9/12. It's been a bittersweet week for me. I started packing up my desk and pictures today and had to stand there and reflect for a moment.  First of all, it's CRAZY what you accumulate in your desk drawers in that amount of time.  There was a random jump rope in one drawer, and a casserole dish in another.  

Who does that? 

I've been at this job for 5.5 years. Well, technically 8, I was there for 2.5 before, left, came back, and now 5.5. You do the math. However you spin it, I've been there a long time. It's where I've built a family of friends that I really care about and have met some really amazing people. It's been my home and people have watched me get engaged, get married and have a baby. While yes, there was always stress and normal job issues that come with the territory of a growing company, it was a good place for me to grow. Moving onto the next adventure is going to be truly amazing and even though I'm slightly sad to leave my comfort zone, I can't help but feel this burst of energy that I can put into my new project.

I feel like my latest theme in the life of R. Davis has been determination.  I've been through a lot in the past 6 months, some good, some bad, but all of it was a lesson in iron will and determination each and every day. I was reading through a few versus tonight and came across this one, and it really hit home with me:

2 Chronicles 15:7 "But you, be strong and do not lose courage, for there is reward for your work."

Not that I feel like I deserve any type of reward, trophy, or prize for what I've done (JUST BUY ME TACOS). Rather, I think about how I've tried to reward myself lately.  I've started to put my physical health first again for the first time in quite awhile.  The reward for that is watching my jeans fit better and better each week.  I've started spending quality time alone in the mornings praying and asking for wisdom, and MAN, has that started to come to me recently.  That time alone gives me a moment to recharge before I hit the ground running everyday.  It gives me time alone to journal and think about how to be a reflection of love to everyone around me.  That is another reward that has come back to me in so many ways. 

My reward for 8 years is not a plaque, or recognition or a speech to a crowd.  It's leaving a company knowing I did a good job and helped people as much as I could.  Did I want to do it every day? Heck no! Some days were tougher than others.  Other days, I just wanted to eat tacos and hide in my house.  But that is everyone at some point in their adult lives.  It's the realization that people don't want me to go that serves as my reward.  Nothing compares to that.  I'm truly humbled. 

So there is my 100th post.  A little sappy, yes, but I can't help it.  It's been an awesome ride. STOKED for what is next!

Stay tuned, new things like a new blog name are possibly coming your way! Happy Wednesday all!

Mommy Wars

To all my ladies, my mommy friends, I'm speaking to you tonight.  There's a crazy thing out there happening all over the interwebs that makes me furious every time I see it.  It's the elephant in the room among us mothers. It's the start of something that will forever be associated with my generation, and I'm ashamed to even be a part of it. 

I'm gonna rant, some of you may not like this, and others, you may want to give me an Emmy for this.  I really don't care.  One thing that taking control of my sanity in the past few months has taught me is that I can be chill and relaxed about life, but I don't have to tolerate ridiculousness. 

Either way, this type of thing needs to stop among women.

Mommy Wars are a real thing.

You guys know what I'm talking about.  It's like a jungle scene from a nature show on the Discovery Channel. Some unsuspecting sweet, probably new mom posts on a swap site asking what type of formula is good for her baby that won't stop spitting up. Seconds later, she's attacked by a group of hyena-moms that think that only Breast is Best and they sabotage poor unsuspecting mom that just wants to feed her baby.  They shame her for her boobies not working. Then some of the nature-riffic moms tell her how to grind her own tree bark from her pear tree in the back yard for formula.  Oh and while you're at it, get rid of those Pampers, you can make diapers out of tree leaves. Others offer encouragement and different pieces of formula advice from their experience.  But that pisses off the other moms on the thread. Before you know it, 15 ladies that DON'T EVEN KNOW EACH OTHER IN THE FACE are fighting over something that is not their business.  

I'm exhausted even thinking about this type of interaction.  I see it happen literally once a day.  And you know what? Why do we all care what other people think and why do we not trust our gut more? 

I'll tell you why this happens.  We live in an era where information is right at our fingertips.  I seriously don't know what I did before Google existed.  Don't we all feel that way? Just today I found myself Googling posts about "What is Bulletproof Coffee" and about 200 posts came up in less than 2 seconds.  (Because side note, I haven't slept in a month.  Oh teething, you will not get the best of me!)

We're so hungry for information that we lose sight of what's really important.  Rather than go spend time reading a book in the aisles of Barnes and Noble, or HEAVEN FORBID, go to the library for research, we click a button, and 100 answers appear.  Don't get me wrong, I Google probably 5 times a day and research everything from safe cars to healthy meals.  Even worse are the constant invitations to join mommy swaps and neighborhood area posts on Facebook that appear in our feed with constant things for sale, questions, and the occasional requests for mommy advice.  Not that these swamps are awful. I've purchased PJs, shoes, diapers and clothes from friends needing to purge their house of all of the baby items.  Which I now do myself.  Because it takes over your house like kudzu.  But heaven forbid the day that people ask a question, and then they're rewarded with 20,000 answers and opinions, all of them different, and some of them downright rude. 

The worst is to watch someone be torn down when they ask for advice.  In this day and time of equal rights, we embarrass each other by cutting down the other woman.  Why? Does it feel good? Do you feel gratified when you do it? Do you not know how to read something, keep your opinion to yourself because maybe, just maybe, you don't know what the other person is going through? 

Guess what? When I had Lila Eve, my boobs wouldn't work.  I had every odd stacked against me to not be able to successfully breastfeed her.  I had a previous surgery that made all the nerve connections suspect to not work. She was born early.  She was born via C-Section after 24 hours of no sleep and painful labor.  She was tiny and to this day, I'm still amazed they let us take her home without staying in the NICU a few days.  She looked like a doll.  Because she wouldn't latch, I had to use all sorts of contraptions to get her to feed, use some formula, and pump every time I fed her.  Every. Two. Hours.  It was a month of torture on top of already out of control hormones and not being able to stand upright. I would be proud of 2 ounces only to find out that was truly all that I could muster in such a crazy situation.  When I went for her weight check at 4 weeks, her pediatrician asked me if I was still pumping/feeding/supplementing formula.  I literally broke down into tears and sobbed that I was still doing all of that.  She looked at me and smiled and said "who are you doing that for, you or her? She's growing with the formula, you don't have to do this if you don't want to.".

BOOM.  Game. Changer. I returned my rented pump and never looked back. 

Now imagine posting this story on a mom swap and getting the range of reactions: 

"What a crazy doctor, you should have still tried! Bet your kid is sick all the time" (2 ear infections, in one year, kiss my butt!)

"Oh good for you! You go girl, do what you have to do to grow that baby!" (thank you, I am!)

"Couldn't you have stuck with it just until 6 months? I mean, pumping isn't that bad" (um, sorry, I was sleep deprived and tired to the point that I probably shouldn't have driven a car at times, I'll take my powdered formula now).

"What about a lactation consultant? Would that help?" (I saw 3! They all agreed formula was best!)

All I'm saying ladies is I'm gonna do me, you do you.  And you know what? It's OK!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! It's fine! Co-sleep or put them in a crib.  Breast or formula, or both.  Cry it out or go get them and rock them. Cloth diapers or regular diapers.  Whatever you do, it's totally up to you.  You're going to get criticized for it by someone.  Hopefully it's an old lady that's so senile that she doesn't know what she's say and you don't want to smack her in the middle of Publix (had that happen a few times when the baby bump was touched by strangers).  But you do what is BEST for you and your family.  And that's all there is to it.

I reach out to my mommy friends for advice all the time and I'm always grateful for the tips they give me.  Do I follow every suggestion? I'll probably try it once to see what happens, but if it doesn't work, onto the next thing.  And in the 10 months I've managed to keep my child alive and breathing, I've usually gone with my gut.  And she's turned out perfectly ok. 

It's got to stop you guys.  No more putting each other down or tearing each other apart.  We should be lifting each other up for accomplishing such great things while raising a family.  It's not easy.  There are days where I have to gather myself like a general going to battle.  But I do it.  I signed up for it. And nobody will tell me what kind of mother to be.  Especially not a stranger. 

Love each other, but most of all, love yourself!

Five

I arrived at work today for a sweet surprise from my team.  I've been at my job for 5 years.  Technically, 9....or 7.5......long story short, I started in April 2007, worked until November 2009, left for a year, then came back in March of 2011.  Had I stayed the entire time, it would be nine years.  So..........happy 5 or 9 or 7.5 years, either way, it was quite a milestone to celebrate that I wasn't expecting.  AND a bottle of champagne definitely made me happy after dealing with a sick 9 month old for 4 days.  I may drink all of it tonight!

After my last post about my dealings with post partum anxiety, I was shocked at the feedback and positive support that I received.  I did not realize how my story spoke to so many people.  After feeling so down and anxious for months, I finally feel empowered and confident.  All of this has caused me to do some major thinking about myself as a woman, wife, mother, co-worker and friend. Life has changed so much in the past few years.

Five years ago,  my professional career at the time was just starting over after leaving my old job, going to a new one, and then realizing that it wasn't for me.  I then came back to a new job where I'm celebrating my 5 year mark today (back at my old job). 

Five years ago, my biffy Steph and I had traveled most of the Eastern Mediterranean on a single girls cruise, followed by a trip to Vegas 2 months later.  Yes, I will admit we had an accidental couples massage and drank champagne pretty much all day every day, and it was amazing. It was by far the most incredible summers of my life and it happened at the right time.  I had been through a crappy breakup and desperately needed a pick me up.  After coming back from that trip, we both met our now husbands. We ate a lot of sushi. We drank a lot of wine.  We danced and brought sexy back. 

And my world slowly started to change. 

Five years for me consisted of dating, figuring out HOW to be in a relationship for the first time in a long time, getting engaged, planning a wedding, getting married, getting pregnant after 10 months of marriage, re-homing a dog, busting my tail at work, buying a house, loosing 2 grandparents, starting a side business, and welcoming a tiny baby into our lives this past June.  OH and replacing our HVAC after moving in and it crapping out with a newborn. That was the suckiest part about that entire 5 years.

I look at all of that and I'm already exhausted when I get to the "getting married" part.  A lot has happened in 5 years. And in the midst of it all, I did not see the woman I was becoming.

Five years ago, I was desperate for affection, a title, the money and was always concerned about what people thought of me.  I think part of that stems from being a preacher's kid, or as I like to call it, being part of the "First Family".  When you grow up in church all your life and your dad is in the pulpit every single Sunday, everyone is watching you to see if you will be a perfect angel or turn into a pot-smoking party girl.  I was always obsessed with being perfect. I heard someone explain in church recently about being a "PK".  When tasked with re-evaluating his life and spiritual relationship, he said that like most preacher's kids, he had to go through his own path to see that.  That struck a huge cord with me.  I have always followed my own path without really listening to anyone but my own gut intuition.  Some of those decisions were good, and others, not so good.

In that time that has passed, I've learned a lot about myself. I can see a glimpse of that person from time to time, and I'm so glad she's changed. 

I learned that I don't have to be so hardcore when it comes to my body.  Having a baby taught me that all of those stretch marks and new curves grew a human that lights up my world every single day.  And I would do it all over again tomorrow.

I've learned that it's ok to be mad for a day, but that you should apologize and move on.  Life is too short to hold a grudge. 

I've also learned that it's ok to stand my ground and not care about what the world thinks of me, because I'm fine being confident in my decisions. 

I've learned that even though I don't see my close friends every week or multiple times a month like I used to, that we can spend 2 hours together and pick right back up where we left off.  The latest social event doesn't entice us anymore, but a good deal on diapers certainly does!

I've learned that at 34, I'm probably "old" to some people and a bit set in my ways. I do it because structure is good for my life and I'm not one for a 2 day hangover anymore.  Plus hangovers with kids is worse than any torture that Jason Bourne every endured. (But TONIGHT, I will celebrate 5 years of success!)

Jarrett came home last week with a card out of nowhere. I won't embarrass him with all of what he wrote, but the words he used to describe me included "passion", "remarkable", "love" and special".  I've been waiting 5 years to hear those things about myself to know that they're true. To know that he sees me the way that I see myself after all of this time just lets me know I'm in the right place. 

Sorry! (but not sorry)

It's been quite awhile since I've blogged, and I felt the need for a really honest "Come to Jesus" blog post. I spend 90% of my time taking care of a spunky 8 month old and trying to maintain a good marriage.  All while trying to work, not be fat, and keep it all together. Life is busy! But I'm finding my groove these days. I miss writing. And tonight I have some peace and quiet to myself while the little one sleeps and before J gets home from work. 

I will note that this is something I've wanted to write about for awhile, but have been scared to death to do it. I am completely baring my soul right now and it's frightening as crap, but, here goes!

I feel like there are times in your life where you feel like you're letting everyone down.  Motherhood is one of those times. What becomes your new normal feels so abnormal because you live your life in this little box that doesn't include happy hours or pedicures or long naps by yourself anymore.  It becomes this whirlwind of not sleeping, feeding and loving a tiny little life form that depends on you for so much. And at times, you just feel suffocated. You feel like your girlfriends call or text you and that you should reply, but you just can't.  Your husband looks at you with one eyebrow raised when you go check on the baby for the 10th time in an hour. And you can't bring yourself to admit that's crazy. You walk into a room filled with your loving family and you cringe on the inside when your child is passed around.  You feel the eyes on you and feel the disappointment in your soul on how you're handling yourself like an escaped mental patient. 

I had a real wake up call with myself about some anxiety that started creeping into my life right around Thanksgiving this year. I didn't notice it at first. I started sleeping less even though my sweet girl slept through the night from 7-6 most days. With the occasional pacifier plea at 4 in the morning.  Now she's big enough to just pop it right back in! I started checking on her in this insane "let me make sure she's breathing" way after not really worrying about it for months. I drank coffee all day long. Morning and afternoon. I was angry at everyone and everything.  The smallest thing like a piece of dirt on the carpet would send me into a vacuuming frenzy and a stare down my whoever traipsed it in my house. I lived in my leggings and baggy shirts and felt like it took all of my energy to just get up most days. 

When I wasn't around the baby, I felt like the walls were closing in. Even though I knew she was in good hands with grandparents or daycare, I was constantly worried.  I quit seeing my friends and when I did, I was one text message away from getting up and heading home because I just did not want to be away from her.  I protectively watched her when people like my own mother held her.  Needless to say, I felt crippled and not like myself at all.  The sparkle from my smile was gone and I felt like a flabbier, more anxious version of myself with an anger management problem.

I finally realized after a crippling weekend of not even being able to drive that I needed professional help.  I saw my doctor.  I found a support group. I started talking to complete and total strangers that didn't even know me but that understood what I was going through.  I didn't feel depressed nor did I want the label of post partum depression put on me, but I did not feel like myself. I learned that everything I felt, the rage, the intense need to feel perfect, was all totally normal. I made a list of things I wanted to do again and started doing them.  Jarrett realized that it's important for me to get away and have breaks. I have an amazing support group of mommy friends that have all told me how much they support me in getting the help I needed.  I changed my diet and started to take better care of me, not just everyone around me.  I bought jeans that fit and decided to stop air drying my hair in a mess of waves without any sort of style. I slowly started to feel like myself again.

It's been almost 3 months since I started my journey to feeling whole again.  I'm not perfect and I still mess up.  The biggest thing that I've learned in getting help is that I'm no longer sorry for being myself.  I've learned to stop apologizing for my shortcomings and just keep going.  I'm not sorry for things like shopping for 2 hours alone and having a moment to myself to feel like a person again.  I'm not sorry for all of those missed texts or texts I thought I wrote, but I didn't.  They'll get to you somehow. I'm not sorry for telling people that their comments make me anxious and to let me parent my way. I'm not sorry for stopping breastfeeding after a month and not trying harder, because it physically wasn't possible for me.  It was the best thing for my child. I'm not sorry that some days, I take my child to daycare first, and then come home and get ready alone.  I'm not sorry that I leave work at 4:30 most days and have time with my daughter that requires complete focus on her and not on my inbox.  I'm not sorry for planning a vacation in a few months that involves only my husband, because we need a chance to be just the two of us again and not just Netflix and chill. Most of all, I'm not sorry for staring down my fears and facing them head on. I feel like so many people go down the rabbit hole of insecurity these days only to be crippled and never recover.  I don't want to live in a world where I feel scared. nor do I want my daughter to feel scared because she sees that fear in me.  That is not the way I want her to grow up.  I want her life to be an adventure in being an independent and pretty cool person. 

Much love to all of you out there that struggle with anxiety, depression, or just anything that throws a wrench in your life. Get the help you need, let your friends be your sounding board, but most of all, learn to love yourself.  You just might see how amazing your are. 

Finding my fight again...

For those of you guys that have followed my blog, this has always been a space where I blogged about my fitness journey.  It started off as a way to hold myself accountable before getting married in 2013.

I totally had a great time posting all of the fitness things, offering advice, what was working for me, recipes etc. I got really really strong and was actually getting into incredible shape and doing man-like lifting right through last fall.  Every day was like leg day.

And then I found out I was pregnant with Lila Eve in October. 

The fitness posts dwindled, as did my blogging.  I had a fairly decent first trimester, but was SUPER tired and was working a really stressful job at the time.  I was super emotional and just downright exhausted at the end of every single day.  Walking and spinning made me feel better, so I tried to hang with it. The struggle was real. 

Second trimester was awesomesauce and I felt amazing and super healthy.  I ate great and I kept on with yoga, Pilates, and more walking.  I didn't think I could get big and feel beautiful, but I did! 

Third trimester was definitely hard.  I think this goes without saying for all of us that have been pregnant, those last few weeks are super tough.  I waddled more than walked, I was carrying more weight than I wanted to, but 30 pounds was all I gained.  On a 5'2 frame though, it was challenging.  Rolling over in bed and shaving became Olympic sports to me.  Don't EVEN get me started on the heartburn and reflux.  

And then our sweet nugget joined us and life has truly not been the same.  That little smile completely melts me every single day.  Even on the mornings after sleepless nights. 

In true chubby fitness girl fashion, I immediately contracted my friend and trainer that I knew from 2 years ago and came up with a plan to start working out as soon as I was cleared.  We met and discussed my goals (which was of course to be Ronda Rousey BA in a few weeks), and then started my training twice a week.  

Has it been hard? YES.  I've been sweating like a pig for an hour at a time, almost unable to breathe at points, but I'm doing it.  Is eating healthy again tough to do? Abso-freaking-lutely, because when you have a kid, good luck feeding yourself at regular intervals.  I'm lucky to shove in a sandwich some days before I realize it's dinner and I've had no other meals.  You come second to that little starving mouth which is always hungry!

But here's what I've learned in the past few weeks.  Underneath all the loose skin and farms (AKA fat-arms), is a strong woman that didn't lose her strength, she became stronger.  Mentally, I'm much tougher than I've been in awhile.  Well, minus those moments when I emotionally cry due to lack of sleep, but I'm seeing a warrior emerge in me, and that has really astounded me.  For 2 weeks, we've battled reflux and projectile formula vomiting and I stopped at nothing to figure out a solution.  The times I've wanted to quit during my training sessions, there's a set of eyes watching over me pushing me to go further, and at the end when I'm gassed, I did it.  One of the first weekends I worked out in a group, I went 6 rounds in an AMRAP and it's been at least a year or more since I've done that.  2 months after a baby and surgery mind you.  And while my body was tired, my mind pushed me to be better and to go hard like I always do. Bringing that little life into the world has toughened my skin in a lot of ways.  The little things don't matter and I care about the health of my daughter, me, and my family.  Even Jarrett is on the bandwagon!

Mommy skin is a unique thing. It's stretched and marked with new colors after carrying something so beautiful for 9 months.  It's made me look in a mirror and now I have a new drive to be a better version of myself.  It's also made me appreciate what women have to take on and how flexible but strong they have to be as they grow as mothers. 

When Colt asked me my goals about 3 weeks ago, it wasn't to run a marathon in 4 months out or to dead-lift 200 pounds.  My first response was "I want to get back to fighting shape".  He even wrote that on my assessment and that's now become my mantra.  To fight.  Not to fight against people or like go around beating people up.  Or even to fight for my right.....to paaaaaaaaaaartaaaaaaaaaaaay.

The fight in me is to do what I know in my heart is be the best "me" I can be.  Meaning mommy to Lila Eve.  A good wife to Jarrett.  A good daughter to my parents and in-laws.  A good co-worker and a good friend.  And this doesn't mean being perfect, which is something I've always struggled with.  Perfection is not my goal, it's being strong.  Allowing myself to break, but then get right back up again and keep going. Those days where I'm exhausted and the baby cries only after 20 minutes of a nap and all I want to do is close my eyes and sleep for a year....I just keep going. I don't know how, but I do it.

Happy Friday you guys.  Find your fight this weekend and be the best "you" you can be!

The Struggle is Real

Y'all. I'm back to the grind.  Meaning....I had a training assessment with an awesome personal trainer and friend of mine this morning.  And now I'm sitting here chugging water and eating a Trader Joe's arugula, couscous and chicken salad for lunch. Yummy.  (True story, it's actually good, and I love healthy food).  I'm now strategically planning out next month's workouts since I have four weeks until I go back to work.

I don't even want to talk about how depressing that is.  4 more weeks with my munchkin.  Makes me sad.  Like my hero Scarlett O'hara said, "I'll think about that tomorrow".

Back to the story at hand. I looked at myself in the gym mirrors today with fresh eyes taking in a more shapely, rounded out Rebecca.  It was tough, because prior to getting pregnant, I was in full on beast mode throwing around heavy weights and doing things like 150 pound sled pushes while grown men stared at me with their jaws open. It was awesome.  I felt really strong and really proud of myself. 

Not that I didn't love being pregnant and proud of myself for bringing into the world the most BEAUTIFUL little nugget ever.  

(Insert shameless baby photo op here)...

COULD YOU DIE AT THE CUTENESS!?!?!?!?!?

I digress....

The other part of being proud of myself while pregnant was that I walked, I did yoga, Pilates and I pretty much ate lots of healthy stuff all along.  I indulged from time to time.  The last 3 months were incredibly taxing both mentally and physically. And at the end of everything, I gained 32 pounds.  Nothing terrible! And I had a pretty grueling labor ending up in surgery. 8 weeks out, I'm not in any pain and I am starting to feel back to normal. I have run some and even lifted some weights on my back porch.  I'm not where I need to be, but hey it's a start. 

But I got on that rowing machine this morning, rowed 1000 meters, and got a good side glance of myself in those mirrors. 

Those thighs y'all....well those got bigger.  I pulled in and out and felt my flabby stomach hit my knees over and over again and was like....well dang, that's new. I felt the soreness in my legs for the first time after rowing and thought....I used to bust out 1000 meters in no time, surely I can do it again. It took close to 6 minutes.  My butt looks like an extension of my back and has gotten flat. I definitely don't have "back" for right this moment. Hello pancake butt. 

The struggle is real.  Growing a human turned me into a soft and paunchy short lady that looks a lot different and hides behind maternity jeans and flowy shirts for now.  I have stretch marks all over my stomach. Can you say "tankini for the rest of my life"? My knees are creakier. That salad was good, but my husband's late night pizza in the fridge is calling my name, but I'm fighting the good fight.  "The girls" need their own zip code.  Good LORD. I think a plastic surgery fund may be in order.

I know I shouldn't be too hard on myself.  In fact, I was lying on an operating table hacked open about 8 weeks ago this time unable to feel anything below my boobs giving birth to the sweetest little girl.  As I was talking with my trainer yesterday about why I wanted to train, my main reason is to be strong for my daughter.  She needs to see mommy doing squats and lunges, running around with suns out guns out, and know that it's OK to be a girly girl, but you can do a serious dead lift if you need to.  She needs to know that mommies and daughters can be physically strong, and be strong for their families too. Being a good role model for her is just my thing and has been my goal all along. 

Thing is, having a child makes you re-evaluate your life.  Your concern for yourself becomes 2nd to that little tiny lifeform that depends on you for so much.  Try texting someone while feeding an infant and watch the rage take place when you don't hold the bottle just right. But in the end, I have to be healthy for this little girl and I'm diving back in headfirst. I am the heaviest I've ever been (well, minus at 9 months pregnant), but I'm excited to see where I am in a few weeks. 

Like Jax Teller said..."I got this"...

Stay tuned, new posts to follow after starting training next week!

Life as of Lately

I've just now realized that I didn't even post about Lila Eve's birth story! Sorry you guys.  You can read about it here. Having a newborn makes you forget so many things.  Like where I put my grocery list.  Or where my car keys are.  Or trying to remember if I fed my child 3 hours ago. 

That's life as of lately. 

Life has drastically changed with my little one in the picture.  Late nights no longer consist of glasses of wine with my girls, they consist of feedings and diaper changes while I'm barely awake. My quick trips to the grocery store or Target are long gone. They require a sitter or a grandparents to just go and accomplish a small task.  My moments alone are spent napping or cleaning, not getting a pedicure.

I say all this with all of the love in my heart, because I truly wouldn't change it for the world.  I was not prepared for what a baby would be like.

I know, I know, you guys are all like...WELL YOU HAD 9 MONTHS TO PREPARE, HOW'S THAT POSSIBLE!?

Ok sure, I was prepared in the sense I had a nursery assembled and semi put-together prior to her arrival.  I had diaper bags packed with 12309123128 outfits for the hospital.  10 hats and 5 sets of headbands.  I read "What to Expect When You're Expecting" front to back.  I even bookmarked pages for Jarrett and quizzed him on all of the stages of labor.  I was prepared for a non-medicated natural birth followed by a beautiful experience breastfeeding and bonding with my child.  And then Care Bears would fill the room and sing a song about caring.  

Well, what I wasn't prepared for were all of the other things.  They need to write a book called "What You Don't Expect after You've Expected".  Or something like that. 

What I wasn't prepared for was my doctor telling us at 34 weeks that my baby was small and that she would make her appearance into the world early.  I started to panic making OTHER plans, realizing that the plan was that there would be no plan.

I wasn't prepared for putting my career aside and making it a second priority.  I had been so career driven for so long that the second I knew she was coming to meet us early, all of the emails, meetings and stress took a backseat. 

I wasn't prepared for caving for an epidural after about 2 hours of labor.  I felt like a HUGE wimp.

I wasn't prepared for my best friend showing up ON HER BIRTHDAY and sitting in the room with me watching the baby's heartrate and my contractions.  It's one of the best moments I could have shared with her, and we've had some beautiful ones. 

I wasn't prepared for how emotional that day would be.  Disappointment, then acceptance, followed by exhilaration, followed by immediate love.  

I wasn't prepared for hearing that first cry and thinking it was the most beautiful sound I had ever heard.  Weeks of worry washed away in cries that provided instant relief.  And then new worry. 

I wasn't prepared for looking over at my husband and feeling love swell so big I thought my heart would explode in the room and that surgeons would have to put it back together. 

I wasn't prepared for how much my family, friends and neighbors would pitch in to take care of me. 

I wasn't prepared for feeling like a complete and total failure at breastfeeding only to realize it wasn't about me anymore, it was about feeding my child.  IF that meant that milking a goat on top of the Swiss Alps, I was prepared to do it. 

I wasn't prepared to do just about anything for my child.  Like rock her to sleep for the 4th time after having a cranky night.  Or try 5 different swaddles only to realize she wants to sleep with her arms out. Or talk to her in the DUMBEST voice in the world.  But she loves it!

I wasn't prepared for those silvery purple stripes that appeared on my abdomen.  I look down at them shocked and sometimes disappointed in the fact that bikinis are probably a thing of the past.  But they're a badge of honor for getting her here, and I grew something awesome beneath those marks. 

I wasn't prepared to look in the mirror and see the bags under my eyes and the fact that my teeth may not have been brushed in 24 hours.  Feeling so put together for all my life went right out the window. 

I wasn't prepared to cry massive tears all over her little baby head telling her I loved her and would definitely screw things up at some point, but that I would be the best mom I could.  She slept and I just breathed in that amazing baby head smell that day and soaked it all in.

I wasn't prepared to love a little life form instantly.  I heard people talk about it.  For some of my friends, it took time for them.  Others fell in love instantly.  I did.  I saw her, she was mine, and I knew life would never be the same. 

It's been a whirlwind 6 weeks of tears, emotions, broken appliances, money drained, sleepless nights, and more diapers than I can count.  I've held little celebrations over things like adding another ounce to her bottle.  Or reaching the 7 pound mark, because she was TINY at 4 pounds 7 ounces.  I even danced around the living room one night dancing with her to "My Girl" with my door wide open for probably my entire neighborhood to see.  And I did not care at how foolish I looked at all.  I just cared how much I loved her. 

Writing has taken on a new life form for me.  Although this blog is not as busy with fitness posts as it used to be, it's still my place, my outlet, my little corner to write about my feelings.  I hope you all read this and share a little love with your families tonight.  Or if you have kids, no matter what age, you tell them you love them.  I sit here and stare at her little sleeping self next to me and cannot imagine life without her in it.  

Much love to you all! This chubby spin instructor is now a chubby (FOR NOW) proud mommy!

Instant Love: Lila Eve's Birth Story

Hi everyone!  So I know that Chubby Spin Instructor has fallen a little by the wayside in the past few weeks due to an important life event.  I look at my fellow mommy bloggers and am always like "how DO they find the time to blog, take care of multiple kids, go to the gym, cook for their families and just literally stay sane?". But finally, our sweet munchkin made it into the world, a little earlier than expected, and I am finally happy to share with my blog family!

Meet Lila Evelyn "Lila Eve" Davis! She was born on June 1st, 2015 at 5:32 PM, weighing in at 4 pounds, 7 ounces.  She was a teeny tiny but VERY boisterous little girl that came into the world roaring to life.  And a head full of dark brown hair.  And just the sweetest spirit. It was a life changing day and it's been filled with so much joy. She has her mommy and daddy wrapped around her little finger already and I literally feel like a big ball of mush when I look at her every single day. I've already cried HUGE tears on her sweet little baby head multiple times vowing to be a good mommy. 

Her birth was definitely a bit of a surprise for us starting at around 34 weeks.  We knew based on her gender ultrasound that she may be small due to the way the umbilical cord was attached to the placenta.  But were told not to worry. Everything about my pregnancy was textbook and super easy.  I gained an appropriate amount of weight.  I felt so healthy and vivacious all the way through. I walked a ton and ate great.  I did have debilitating heartburn and reflux, which unfortunately sent me reeling to the kitchen sink multiple times a week, but, that was to be expected.  I cried in the bathroom floor vowing no more children on one particularly bad episode :) Jarrett was a trooper all the way through.  We breezed into our 34 week ultrasound without a care in the world and were like "oh yay, we have 6 more weeks, everything is fine, we still have time to hang pictures in the nursery and put together her pack and play!".

WRONG.

First off, I went to that appointment on a Friday after work alone, because I just felt like everything was so routine.  Jarrett was at work awaiting the normal updates. As I laid on that table watching her little sweet face on the screen, I was also side-eyeing the ultrasound tech, who had started chewing her bottom lip and saying less to me.  Immediate panic set in, so I started asking her lots of questions.  The size issue had reared it's ugly head again and LE wasn't growing like she was supposed to.  She was weighing in around 4 lbs 8 oz.  My doctor was not in the office that day, so I met with one of her partners, who then informed me that I would need weekly ultrasounds, and non stress tests due to her size, and that she was coming out at 37 weeks.  Would not stay in utero until 40.  I wouldn't go into normal labor like I had planned. And that I may wind up with a C section.  These were all things that I had in the back of my mind as possibilities, but were totally opposite of my natural-no drugs "I can squat-press this baby out, I got this"-birth plan.

Insert shock and immediate flow of tears down face here.  

I tearfully called Jarrett and started informing the parents, work contacts and close friends.  Like the planner that I am, I immediately readjusted my work schedule and started going into baby prep overdrive.  Each week at the doctor was like my first time there, because there was no progress with her growth and it literally was like a "keep a hospital bag in the car" scenario.  

Finally at our 36 week appointment, our doctor went ahead and set our date for induction, and we had a week left as a family of 2. We checked into the hospital on Sunday May 31st to start the induction knowing she would be born sometime on June 1st. A doctor with the BIGGEST MAN HANDS (for a woman) inserted the Cervadil and I was super convinced that sent me straight into labor.  No such luck.  In fact, nothing happened for about 6 hours until 1 AM when I started having mild contractions for 4 hours.  I didn't sleep, but Jarrett managed to.  I was too excited and scared to sleep. 

6 AM, out came the Cervadil, stopping all contractions.  And then my doctor checked me.  Not dilated at all. I was super disappointed but oh well. Plus the nurse let us know that the baby's heart rate had dipped some overnight so we knew that she may not be tolerating things well. I got a shower and put on some makeup. And then started Pitocin.  The nurses started cranking that up throughout the morning.  I was doing ok until they started getting stronger and closer together and I literally couldn't talk.  And I immediately felt weak.  In my head I was like "I squatted 155 pounds at my fittest, SURELY I can have this baby without pain meds". Nope.  And to this day, I admire the ladies that can do it, because it was a trip for a few hours.  Around 11 AM, I caved and went for the epidural.  30 minutes later of nakedness and talking with a really nice anesthesiologist, I was feeling like I was on cloud nine. A very tired, but very happy cloud nine. My water was broken after another exam and I laid in a pool of my own fluids for a few hours watching the fetal monitor as my sweet daughter was jolted around and continued to not tolerate labor well.  Lots of nurses ran in and out of the room. I was too drugged up to feel anxious any longer but I knew that things were not great down there.

Finally around 1 PM, my doctor made the call for a C section at 4:30 PM.  In hearing these words, I was already prepared in my head for this to happen, and I accepted what I knew was the safest way to get her into the world.  And managed to relax and spend the last few hours with Jarrett as we knew her arrival was closer.  Even in my exhausted state, I remember looking at him scared and afraid but knowing life was about to change forever.  I wish I could have captured that moment in a time capsule forever. What an amazing man to stand beside me through all of what was already a long-drawn out labor and delivery. (I'm like blinking tears back while as I write that). 

We FINALLY suited up for surgery around 5 PM.  I felt like I was pumped full of fluids to the point that when that blood pressure cuff squeezed my arm, I thought my fingertips would explode.  15 minutes later and lots of pressure on my abdomen, Miss Lila Eve came crying into existence and that was the happiest sound of my entire life! They brought her tiny self over to us and I dissolved into a mushy, emotional first time mommy and Jarrett could not wipe the smile off his face.  She was laid up on my chest for skin to skin and we snuggled while some fun activity occurred on the other side of that drape.  She was teeny but measured normally elsewhere and everyone in the operating room loved her instantly too. They took her and Jarrett out and he actually spent 30 minutes with her while they closed me up.  When they wheeled my bed in, he had her up against his bare chest doing skin to skin and once again, I dissolved into tears and snorty snots and was so in love with the both of them all over again.  We spent as much time with her as we could that night until my sister informed the nurses that I was falling asleep holding the baby because I was so exhausted.  She stayed in the nursery so we could get some rest after 24 hours of a crazy labor. 

We spent 4 days in the hospital getting to know her, trying to breast feed, and getting cabin fever together.  I was pretty out of it due to all of the drugs from surgery, but I spent those days learning her little queues and resting. Since she was so early, she would not latch onto me and I was immediately hooked up to a breast pump each time she fed.  And then I had 3 nurses trying to shove my goodies into her tiny mouth and she just was NOT having it.  We tried all sorts of contraptions and had to supplement formula, which made me die inside a little, because I was so pro-breastfeeding the entire time, but knew it may not work out (Today, after a lot of work and tears shed, I'm packing away our rental pump to return it.  That's a whole other post for a different day, but I was at least able to give her some of my own milk for a month, but it wasn't enough to sustain her).  I learned quickly that having your offspring ripped from your body 3 weeks early would cause you to cry or get angry at a rapid pace, so I definitely had my hospital meltdowns, but I had so many sweet friends come and visit us while we were there. If I could have skipped out of that hospital without popping my stitches, I would have. 

We have settled into life at home with our sweet baby and though I'm sleep deprived and I forget to brush my teeth most days, I could not imagine life without her in it. She is a wonderful baby, she LOVES laying on her daddy's chest to fall asleep, she is spunky to be so tiny, and is gaining weight after so many attempts with breast feeding and pumping.  She's a good sleeper and eater and just a beautiful, sweet soul.  We've been taking her to weekly doctor's appointments so make sure she's beefing up and she's almost 6 pounds now, which is a huge milestone for us.  I really could throw a party because it took some work to get her there. Next to marrying my best friend, she's the best thing I've ever done.  ALL of the grandparents are super in love with her and are spoiling her already. Between all 4 of them, we've hung pictures, shelves, had multiple dinner brought our way, and been allowed to run some errands and SLEEP. We even had our first date night last night and it was amazing. 

In the midst of my sweet girl arriving, my precious grandmother, Granny Price, passed away 2 days before she was born.  I truly think she was trying to hold out to meet her new great granddaughter, but her tired body gave out after 95 amazing years.  We gave Lila Eve her name, "Evelyn" as her middle name, and I really think that my child definitely inherited her spunk and feisty personality.  She is strong like her great-Granny.  Though I miss Granny and was so sad to miss her funeral, I know she was able to kiss and hold my sweet angel before she made it down to earth. And that thought gives me so much peace knowing that they were able to meet each other. What a beautiful circle of life that brought my baby to me and sent my sweet Granny onto heaven to reunite with my Grandpa and other family members. 

Thank you all for letting me share her birth story.  Like I mentioned before, this blog continues to evolve every time I write. I have 9 more weeks left of maternity leave so I hope to be able to write more in the coming weeks and get back to more regular posts.  I've already planned some posts on living with a newborn, losing the baby weight (can you say FARMS/fat arms), and getting back to clean eating.  Which surprisingly hasn't been that hard, I've taken great care of myself now that I have a little one to be my daily inspiration to be my best. And apologies in advance, but there will be a gratuitous amount of pictures of this sweet girl from now on, because she's so STINKING cute and changes every day. Much love to all of you and Chubby Spin Instructor is back! Happy Saturday!

Happy Mother's Day!

First of all, shout out to all the mommies today, new moms, moms to be, grandmothers and our sweet mothers that brought us into the world.  You guys do amazing things EACH and every day and as a new mommy to be, I'm seeing up front what it's like to put someone else first for once.  It's like marriage, but scarier, because there's a tiny human involved depending on you for everything. 

So first and foremost, HAPPY MOTHERS DAY 2015 to all of you ladies out there! My mom and I make this joke a lot, I only thought it was appropriate to post since we've said this for so many years.

I think that it's been a few weeks (possibly months) since the last post.  I was 26 weeks the last time and now I'm a large and bulbous 34 weeks. REALLY hard to believe that this little nugget is entering our lives next month.  It's gone by so fast! I look back and I'm like "Man! I wish I would have documented this more" but I've been so busy and I feel like now I'm scrambling to finish the nursery, install all the safety things, get a breast pump and learn how to use it.  But it will get done.   So far, this is what the crib looks like all put together.  EEK SO CUTE! 

I've also been humbled in the last few weeks and it's all stuff that's like really FUN to talk about with other women.  I've learned that the physical challenges of pregnancy are completely insane and I guess I should have realized at some point I wouldn't be able to touch my toes.  Or easily just "hop" in my car.  Or stand up without feeling like my pelvis would fall on the floor. 

Here are a few things that I've realized in the past 8 weeks since feeling like a cute pregnant lady to now waddling around like I'm birthing a baby whale:

1) Shaving your legs (or anything) while pregnant should be an Olympic sport and gold medals should definitely be given out on a podium while the national anthem plays in the background (correction, chocolate medals, wrapped in gold foil).

2) Painting your toenails should also be a competitive Olympic sport, I have felt like one of those Cirque du Soliel contortionists a few times.  I finally opted for a pedicure 2 weeks ago and it was AH-MAH-ZING!

3) Sleeping comfortably is super hard. I'm surrounded by a pillow fort every night. I'm sure Jarrett is ready to lose all of those bed companions soon because he has to search for me every morning and find me.

4) Acid reflux SUCKS and there is no cure or relief at all.  Except eat less and sleep on aforementioned pillow fort. I can't wait until Lila Eve is no longer pushing my stomach into my throat each day.  But mommy loves you little one :)

5) Boobs.  They're just out of control now.  I feel like they're stray dogs that need to be harnessed on a leash and inside a fence. 

6) You have to tell people no. It's hard and it sucks to do it, but the bigger you get, it's obvious that your life is heading for a change.  It's hard to be involved in every little thing. 

7) I'm not kicking myself for not working out every single day.  I walk, I do Pilates, yoga, and some weights.  But there are days where I rest on my couch and I'm not sad about it.  I wanted to be the pregnant lady doing Crossfit at 9 months pregnant, but it didn't turn out like that.  And I'm ok! I still feel pretty ok minus the usual aches and pains. 

I could go on and on, but those are just a few things.  Case in point, it's been real, it's been fun, but at times it hasn't been real fun.  But I know that the end result will result in a tiny piece of existence with Jarrett's dark features and hopefully my cute chipmunk cheeks and all will be right in the world that day in June.

So as I write this, I look at number 6 about slowing down in my career, and that's a BIT of a stretch because I did manage to add one more thing to my plate recently.  But it doesn't feel like work at all.  I became an independent consultant for Rodan + Fields May 1st.  I really wanted to try the products out because I used Proactiv forever and loved it but was also inspired by a sweet friend of mine that had started as a consultant with no sales experience and was doing really well.  Her enthusiasm was genuine.  And in the past several months, I had really thought to myself a few times, "what do I enjoy in life and what do I really want to do?" (total Carrier Bradshaw moment). 

So I'm giving it a whirl.  I have business cards.  Yes, I post on Facebook a lot.  You may see me review things from time to time.  You may love it or hate it and may not want to read all my plugs, but the truth is, these products work.  And not only that, I do feel like I'm helping people.  That's a big thing for me.  I have had a vision of helping women for a long time and just could not figure out how to do that professionally.  This is giving me an open door to pursue that.  Whether it becomes something large or just something fun on the side, I can't wait to see where I am months from now.  If you guys are interested in anything, please hit me up for information.

https://rdavis82.myrandf.com/ContactMe

OK! Happy Mothers Day and I hope you all have a wonderful weekend!  Enjoy your mom or anyone you consider a mom and celebrate her!

Staying fit while growing a bunch of bananas...

Happy Monday! This week is a big milestone.  Last week of the 2nd trimester, REALLY hard to believe that. This is what my pregnancy tracker on my phone said this morning.  Baby is the size of a bunch of bananas, about 2 pounds right now!  Hard to believe, I remember when she was just a jelly bean with tiny fish fins (or at least that's what she looked like). 

So I never thought that my blog would take on the shape of a mom/wife blogger, because there's definitely still a sense of fitness behind what I'm doing.  But it has taken on that form, and I'm ok with that, and hope you guys are too.  Blogging while pregnant has been tough, there's just never enough time. I do find myself wanting to stay more mentally and emotionally fit these days, because for real you guys, growing a little one is hard on EVERYTHING.  

One of the things I was most proud of prior to getting pregnant was joining an online fitness group.  We live all over the U.S. and we check in and keep each other accountable.  It was so awesome to see progress with so many people that I had never met.  I only know one couple that maintains the group, and they are awesome fitness pals of mine, and have an adorable little boy.  Yesterday, after 6 months of not checking in, I decided to post to the group on how I'm doing.  And this is the truth.  I've managed to stay active.  Some days are better than others. I'm not like throwing around heavy things like I used to, but I walk and do a lot of Pilates and barre workouts (thank you YOUTUBE). I eat well and fuel myself.  Sometimes, I fuel myself only with Nutella.  But that's only for a morning, maybe a snack. As of my last appointment, I was only up 13 pounds, which is amazing considering I pretty much can't see my feet right now and my back every night makes me feel like I'm carrying a baby blue whale.  All and all, a pretty uneventful, easy and wonderful pregnancy.

Standard bathroom selfie to show of your growing round tummy.  OH and I got a new haircut, LOVE IT!  Except someone the other day was like "oh I love your "mom" cut" and I had to like restrain myself from wanting to hurl my coffee mug at the face from which that came from.  Pregnancy hormones will make you feel that way...and then I ate some food and felt better.

For real though, I got some great feedback and encouragement from my fitness pals and I thought I would share how I've managed to work a full time job, be a (semi) decent wife, and also through fitness and clean eating into my world.  I've discovered what works best for me and I stick to it. 

EXERCISE: I stick mainly to walking, some light running, and a lot of Pilates/Barre routines that can be done while pregnant.  The strength I've managed to keep in my legs and abs has really helped me some days with back pain.  Lots of lunges and squats.  My one problem area right now is my arms, they've gotten a little bat-wing-ish.  Or FARMS as I like to call them.  Fat Arms.  Nothing terrible, but I don't have weights at home, so I have to get creative. There not where I want them to be, but I have a feeling lifting a growing baby will take care of that at some point :)

I also have fallen in love with prenatal yoga, especially with starting to get bigger.  It's just so good for you and Lila Eve loves it too.  Lots of kicks while doing some good stretches.  I was a huge yoga buff back in college and got fairly serious about practicing. I had a wonderful professor that just taught me so much. I even did hot yoga for awhile when I was running a ton, totally was in the best shape of my life.  Flexibility is key, pregnant or not. But seriously, right now I'm sitting here with candles lit on the floor after finishing up a 30 minute session and it feels great!

FOOD: Do I splurge? Yes.  I eat some form of ice cream almost every night.  Do I cheat? You betcha. Nutella is my cheat meal, with a spoon, from the jar...don't judge me.  But am I still eating good food that fuels my body? Absolutely! I've kind of adopted the philosophy of eat breakfast like a king, lunch like a prince, dinner like a pauper.  #1, it helps tremendously with heartburn, sheesh, this baby girl better have a head full of hair. #2, I have the most energy in the morning, so I fuel myself best at this time.  I have small snacks during the day.  I have craved fruit, so I can wolf down some strawberries and pears like nobody's business right now.  I basically eat the same things as before, lots of lean protein, but I am eating more carbs now because it's what feels good to me. 

REST: Sleep is key these days.  And it's hard, there are days where I want to fall asleep in my desk chair for an hour and hope nobody notices.  I try to go to bed early.  I definitely am noticing it's more uncomfortable now, so I sleep in what's basically a pillow fort.  Sometimes, I nap in my car.  Just go drive somewhere and lay down.  

RELAXING: Pregnancy can be stressful.  Hormones are no joke, they will make you want to cry one minute, and then hug your neighbor the next. Things like money and "oh GOD how are we going to do this?" are common thoughts I have.  But since I officially have 3 months left to go, I'm learning there is stuff I can't control.  Like.....will I have a C Section? Is she ok in there? Epidural or no? How many football games can we make it to this year and not lose our minds?  Relaxing is key, and I'm definitely having to force myself to chill some days.  I've done better with work.  It's the whole giving birth and a whole new life with 3 people instead of 2 that makes me anxious.  But Saturday, I did manage to have a prenatal massage, and it was AMAZINGGGGGGGGGGGGGG and I will be doing that at least once a month until Lila Eve is born.  So worth it.  I fell asleep after (that table is SO WARM and cozy, how do I get my bed to feel like that!) and I also might have drooled on the pillow.  Most definitely doing that again!

OH and Essential Oils.  If you guys want the scoop on that, you can message me, I won't go into all the deets, but I will say that lavender oil has saved me a few times with sleeping, and also with just any feelings of anxiety.  If you guys want any ideas on what to use for headaches, aches and pains, even just tension and stress, I can get you the info. My mom is a big big fan of them and they will most likely make an appearance in the delivery room.  But I promise I won't be like super flower child! I already said to my mom that my doctor may think we're a bunch of hippies when we roll up in the hospital with our box of oils:

I know you guys are going.... essential oils....YOGA?! What in the world? But hey, it works for me.  I'm loving feeling this good this far along.  

Hope you all have a wonderful week, I'll try to check in a little more often as I can over the next few weeks before the butterbean makes her appearance in June!