Seeds

It's no secret I hate those "inspirational" / "motivational" fitness quote and memes. Most of the ones I see are gung-ho and make no sense, and it doesn't help that the accompanying photo is usually of a virtually naked tight-bodied cow bitch woman.

But one has caught my eye which I like. A lot. It's logical and (against all odds) actually motivates me during that pivotal decision making point. The same point each day, to be exact, i.e. should I exercise today or not? Lol.

So for the immense help on my quest to get some kind of hotness back into this weary baby-production-retiree body, I give a shout out to none other than our very own (yea, I'll claim him on behalf of Samoa) Robert Louis Stevenson. Thanks Bobby. Today's Tabata session goes out to you!

http://behappy.me/dont-judge-each-day-by-the-harvest--you-reap-but-by-the--seeds-that-you-plant

Accidents

The mother-in-law is visiting from Samoa. While she was playing with La and her train set yesterday, I overheard things I don't usually hear around young kids' playtime ...

La: "Choo-choo! Let's race the trains around the track."
[train derails]
La: "Oh no! We've got an accident. Ambulance!!"
MIL: "Oh no, there is only one person alive. Everyone else is dead!" [cracks up laughing]
La: "AMBULANCE! Help!"
MIL: "They're all dead!"


I'm pretty sure I heard wrong.


La: "Let's start the race again."
[train derails]
La: "Oh no! Another accident. Ambulance! Doctor!"
MIL: "There is no doctor available. The doctors are all drunk."


Oh, ok. Maybe I didn't hear wrong.

Thankfully we didn't have any little friends over for a playdate. Imagine the gems they would have taken home with them. Lol.

'Ello poppet

I am back from the depths of childbirth! (Yay)

What a bloody hard last couple of months.

Had a baby, had my whole fam descend on our place for the Christmas week, then immediately after had the folks-in-law staying (still to depart).

I have forgotten what a good sleep feels like. Or what having a relatively okay body feels like.

So I've signed myself onto myfitnesspal and started religiously tracking my eating in the (futile) attempt to regain some sort of acceptable body shape and functionality. Which means I'm hungry a lot. Lol.

Actually, the truth is, as easy as it would be for me to starve for weight loss, breastfeeding demands proper nutrition. The baby dictates everything. How I eat, when I sleep, when to pull my boobs out, when I can interact with other humans. I can't even deal.

So in summary, I'm now a hungry fat milk zombie with no income (i.e. no sense of control ... lol), living life one 3 1/2 hour feeding interval at a time. Goooood luck.

Shallow

Is it bad that as Ant's due date draws near, I am getting extremely worried about:

• making sure my hair is constantly "maintained" (facial and elsewhere *ahem*)
• making sure my nails are "did"
• what I will wear should I decide to jump in the pool for a water birth
• how to keep my straightened hair dry while having a water birth
• what I will wear should I decide not to have a water birth
• what I will wear for my first post-birth photo
• (I think you get the gist of it...)

Maybe it keeps me sane and distracts from the upcoming pain.

Or maybe I'm just vain.

I am getting excited though. Looking forward to seeing my boy and finally staying home from work and getting my normal bikini bod back. Guffaw!

Hurting hearts

Parenting can be such a mother ...

Like when you try to convince your 5yo that you are not making them wear the big blue jacket because you want them to be fugly, but because you know it will be a cold day and they've got bronchitis and asthma, but all you get in return is defiance ...

Then you discipline them, try to teach them the importance of obedience, the value of the advice of those who love you ...

And they look at you, their big old teary eyes filled with anguish, and say, "My heart hurts, Mummy. My heart hurts because you are angry at me."

Then you hate yourself ...

And you eat two whole packs of kekesaiga to make yourself feel better ...

And you just end up feeling fat, fugs and still a bad mother.

The necklace

Emma Thompson ... not getting a necklace

"Would you wait around to find out if it's just a necklace, or if it's sex and a necklace, or if, worst of all, it's a necklace and love? Would you stay, knowing life would always be a little bit worse? Or would you cut and run?"

99 Problems

1. Work is out of control busy.

2. I am super lost (i.e. aivalea) at my current work assignment.

3. Having a primary school kid and having to arrange your life around the fact that there is no more full time care for your kid during all your working hours ... it's a new discovery, a new challenge, and my goodness I feel so bad for all you other working parents out there! Let's get together and have a whine-fest (or even better, a wine-fest!)

4. I still haven't won Powerball. Obviously, or problems 1 to 3 would be resolved.

5. Ant is such a boy of a baby. He hasn't given me a smooth complexion, a "glow" or shiny/tamed hair like Lali did. Instead, he has given me a grand appetite for spicy bratwurst, bacon butties, churros and all else that is needed for getting elephantiasis.

6. I work in the middle of Wellington city. You would think that being surrounded by cafes galore it would be easy to find a date scone when you crave one, right? Wrong. I had to walk around in circles, visiting 5 cafes on a rainy morning before I could find one! Not impressed.

7. Our neighbour's visitor parked on the road in such that a way that impeded me from backing out of our driveway the way I wanted to. The hubby wisely volunteered to ask him to move, preventing a mad-preggo-lady altercation and possible charges for destruction of property ( though I would have only removed the rear bumper of his car ... that was part that was poking into our side of the driveway ... )

8. I'm sure I have about 92 or so more gripes on food and fat. Ugh. My sister takes photos from amazing angles that make me look a quarter of the size I am. People see them and say "You look so great! Upload more photos!" No thanks. I will only upload the photos that pass the "Pregnant But In Impossibly Great Shape" criteria. Hence why there aren't many.

9. Looking at Crazy Cakes and Just Desserts Facebook updates is driving me insane with cake cravings. I am refusing to do any baking right now though, because I can see it turning into a slippery slope ... of ganache and whipped cream and buttercream and custard!! Joy.

Two more months. I can do this. Just focus on the prize at the end ... that bowl of oka. Nommmm ...