The Battle of the Baby Bulge

Tips to help you improve your shape in the post-partum period:

After 9 months of waiting patiently and doing all the right things to maintain a healthy pregnancy, you are finally holding your precious baby. Whether your labour was long or short, challenging or easier than you expected, you are probably tired and relieved that your pregnancy is over and labour behind you.

After a few hours of cuddling, feeding and falling in love with your baby, your thoughts turn to a nice long shower to rejuvenate you and ease the muscle soreness you are experiencing after giving birth. You pad your way to the bathroom, either with the support of a partner, or the wall (because your legs are still shaky and tired) and you undress to get in the shower. When you look up and see yourself in the mirror for the first time, you are shocked. For 9 months you had a growing, but firm tummy, and although all the books tell you that you can expect to look 4-5 months pregnant after the birth of your baby, you really aren’t prepared for what that actually looks like: the saggy, baggy elephant. The taunt skin that once enveloped your baby now resembles a bowl of Jell-O, and perhaps you notice that you have a few stretch marks or badges of honor, as I like to call them. Later, as you emerge from the shower feeling refreshed and relaxed, you make a secret pact with yourself to lose the weight, tone your tummy and fit back into your jeans in record time.

Before you get started on your new post-partum workout routine, there are a few things you should keep in mind:

Set realistic expectations:

As determined as you are to lose your baby weight, remember that it is better and safer to lose weight gradually. You can expect to lose about 10-15 lbs. in the early days after giving birth (this weight loss is represented by baby’s birth weight, placenta, amniotic fluid, uterus and water retention), but it takes most women 9 months to 1 year to regain their shape and return to their pre-pregnancy weight. Remember that this is just an average; some women may take less time, and others, longer. It took you nine months to grow that big, beautiful belly, it won’t disappear overnight.

Eat Small Frequent Meals:

It is important to continue to eat a healthy, balanced diet. Eating a variety of fresh fruits, vegetables, grains and meats will ensure that you get the appropriate vitamins and minerals needed in your daily routine. Try to avoid overly processed foods, as they are higher in fat content and may make you feel more tired. If you are a breastfeeding mom, you will need to increase your caloric intake by up to 500 cal/day (more if you are also exercising regularly). Your body is working hard all day long producing milk for your baby. Also by having a lot of variety in your diet, you introduce new flavours and tastes to your baby through your breastmilk. This may make the introduction of solid foods (after 6 months of age) easier as your baby will have already experienced a wide variety of flavours.

Get Sleep:

Sometimes that is easier said than done! However, it is important to realize that 1) your body will store fat for longer periods of time if you are not well rested and 2) without adequate sleep you may not have the energy to exercise on a regular basis. Also, when we’re tired we are more likely to reach for junk food and caffeine to boost our energy, which in the short term is great, but counter-productive in the long run. So, although you may have heard it 100 times before, “sleep when your baby is sleeping”. Cat naps during the day will benefit you.

Stay Hydrated:

Drink water. This is especially important for breastfeeding moms who need to ensure that they are drinking enough fluids so that they can make breastmilk. Also, it’s possible to mistake thirst for hunger, so reach for the glass of water before reaching for a cookie.

Start Slowly:

It may take you several weeks before you are ready to workout again, and even when you are ready, it’s important to take it easy. FITMOM™ recommends that you complete your 6 week post-partum check-up prior to starting a new exercise routine. Light walking, pelvic tilts, kegal exercises and gentle stretching are things you can do in the early post-partum period. When you are ready to increase your intensity, remember that the hormone relaxin can be found up to 9 months post-partum. This means that joints are still loose and injuries are still possible. Injury prevention is top of mind for FITMOM™ coaches so you can rest assured that modifications, postural reminders and safety checks are part of the FITMOM™ experience. Go slow, listen to your body and modify your activities to meet your current physical conditioning. In time, as you build strength and stamina you will find that you can do more and last longer.

Treat yourself:

It can be very frustrating and un-motivating to stand in front of your closet and feel as if you have nothing to wear. Most of us are eager to toss the maternity pants aside and yearn to put on pants with real buttons but your old wardrobe may still be out of reach for a few months. Take the time to invest in 1-2 pants and tops that fit your current body and shape. It will make you feel better, boost your self-confidence and have you feeling like a yummy mummy in no time. You do a lot for your family, so it’s important (and recommended) that you do something nice for yourself.

The last tip is to relax, have fun, and enjoy the ride. You are taking all the right steps towards leading a healthier and more active lifestyle. The pants will come in time!

I am an ox·y·mo·ron

Ox-y-moron


noun, plural


A figure of speech by which a locution produces an incongruous, seemingly self-contradictory effect, as in "cruel kindness" or "to make haste slowly".





Or in my case, the oxymoron is "works from home".





I may have mentioned that I have left the comfort and security of a regular paycheck for the 'we may not have much, but we have each other; everybody needs to make sacrifices, because mommy is working from home' option.





The tipping point that lead to my decision to leave my full time job and venture into self employment, came after a discussion with Big Daddy when he asked me if we wanted to leave Big in charge of the house at the age of 5. We had already seen a version of "Lord of the Flies" over the Christmas break when four 4 year olds ran around our place like the tazmanian devil, leaving a trail of destruction throughout the house. Would that display of wild crazy children be our future if I returned to work? More than likely, and we were in the unique position of being able to make the investment in our children to modify our work lifestyles. Most families aren't in the position to make those kinds of changes.





Also, my supportive (but blunt) mother described for me in great detail that should I return to work, my positive and healthy relationship with my sons would likely turn into a full fledge battle partnered with copious amounts of yelling at children who never seem to move fast enough to get out the door. This would of course cause extra stress, that would be followed by name calling (which I would later regret) and frustration for all parties involved. Some families are able to handle the stress of this push and pull of childcare arrangements, pressures of demanding jobs, friends and family better than others. We are not one of those families.





So after some long discussions and a lot of courage we jumped feet first into self-employment.


The home office is now the dining room table. The laptop I purchased is always on so that I can try to get 5-10 minutes of work done every 3-4 hours between nap times, play dates, laundry, snuggling babies, disciplining 4 year olds, feeding, changing and diapering. I work alot at night and drag the boys with me when I have an appointment. To make it up to them, we make lots of trips to local parks.





We are all adjusting to this new lifestyle.





I work from home, and sometimes, I even get work done.





Maybe I am not an oxymoron after all.

I'm Flaky; But it's Friday, and it's Funny

Okay, well now that I have calmed down and my blood pressure has returned to normal, I can look back at the crazy morning I had today and laugh. However at the time; it really wasn't funny.

The morning actually started off okay, but it did not take long for it to derail. It looked like everything was going to go my way- Little was up at 7am this morning, and Big got up in a good mood. Eeveryone got their breakfast, got dressed and we were all ready to head out the door on time. My plan was to drop Big off at school, swing home to nurse Little then send him off to Lala land, all before my mom would show up and look after the baby so that I could attend day 2 of the course I am taking.

Since I am not much of a morning person I took the time the night before to pack the lunches and organize what I needed for the day. I did all of the preplanning to make sure I was on time.

All I needed to do before we headed out the door was grab my keys.

Where are my keys?

They are not where they are supposed to be! Hmmm. I quickly search the other 'spots' that my keys sometimes find themselves in. Unfortunately, they are nowhere to be found and I am starting to panick. The perfect plan I had laid out before me was uncoiling rather quickly.

Time is ticking faster now. I am running around the house like the mad hatter, tearing up and down the stairs in vain, searching desperately for my keys. I call Big Daddy on the phone. He doesn't pick up. I call him again so that he knows I am serious. I start to yell at the phone, "Why won't Big Daddy pick up? Where are my keys?" Big starts to cry. "Mommy can we walk to school?" " No sweetie, it's a 15 min walk and I have a course to get to, I am already going to be late".

Minutes later I receive a text "I am in a meeting until 9am". I respond with where the F**ck are my keys?????? He says "I never touched them". I look for the extra set, and I remember that Big Daddy has them on his key chain- GREAT!

I continue to run around the house like a nut. Big continues to cry. Then, CRASH. What's that? Oh, Little finally figures out how to open the front panel to the gas fireplace, sweet. So now off I tear to recover the baby from fatal disaster (the pilot light was off though!) and stick him in the chair as he cries his head off that the big noise startled him. I yell for Big to go and comfort Little as I try to retrace my steps.

Big is trying to be helpful- "The last time you lost your keys Mommy, they were in the laundry room" (Don't judge me). I consider this may again be a possibility, but no.

They are not in the laundry room. They are not in the cupboard, or my purse, or the diaper bag, or the counters, or bathroom, or dining room, computer desk, or jacket. I am still panicking but I am trying to calm myself down so that Big doesn't develop any further anxiety and I say to him, "Don't worry Mum-Mum will be here in a few minutes and I will take you to school in her car". Then he starts to cry for his Mum-Mum. Whatever. Just help me find my freaking keys!

I start to sweat, I want to cry with the kids when I finally step outside and look in the door. Right? WRONG. They are not in the door. I walk out further, perhaps they are on the side table. NO. Wrong Again. I look out to the car, and I see them. Right where I left them the day before. On the roof of my car.

"Well, whatever it is, it's going to be different".

I can't believe it.

I can't believe that I am still dealing with sleep issues.

I thought for sure we would be over this mini roadblock and back to our blissful life of love and happiness.

Boy, was I wrong. It turns out that Little is alot more stubborn than I thought.

When I was pregnant with Little I remember having a conversation with my dad about the person that was growing in my belly and what he or she would be like. I wondered if he would be loud like Big, and if that baby would also be lacking in the department of volume control (Big has limited ability to find and use his 'inside voice'). Would the baby be wiggly like Big always wanting to be on the move, or content to just be. Every visit I had with my parents I would contemplate the person that was to be and my dad, the wise man that he is, looked at me and said: "Well, whatever it is, it's going to be different". As usual, he was right.

Where Big could be put to sleep by anyone and anywhere, Little has proven to be more sensitive. He needs the familiarity of his own room and a consistent routine. Where Big could fly by the seat of his pants happy to be on the go with me from one place to another. Little is content to just sit with you and snuggle, taking in the antics of his louder, older brother, and observing the world through his unblinking baby blue eyes. In fact most visitors comment on how quiet he is. The kid even came with me on the all girls weekend with my girl themombshell , and except to dissapear for a short period of time to nurse him and put him down for a sleep, you would never have known he was there!

So as I sit here and contemplate the differences in my kids, I am trying, desperately, to find the positive.

If you know me at all, you know that I am not one to sit and rest. Until recently, I could be found attending an event for work, volunteering in the community, teaching my Lamaze classes, at the gym, out with friends, mothering the boys, and taking a course, all while trying to keep this house tidy. All of this was possible when I had a baby that would sleep anywhere. Gone are the days when I could just bolt out the door with Big in tow, who was happy to be tagging along on 'an adventure'. Since the arrival of Little I have had to shift many of my priorities that had 'others' before me and sometimes, my family.

Now, I find myself saying a two letter word that, to me, is the dirtiest word in the world: No. I have had to say 'no' to many things over the past year and a bit, and, I have to admit, it does get easier every time I say it. The pit of dispair that normally fills my gut at the thought of dissapointing someone, or letting someone down is easing up, a bit. Well, enough that I know that the world won't actually end if I don't do something. Perhaps this sensitivity Little has to sleeping out of the house, is actually a gift (like I said folks, I'm trying to find 'the positive' and I believe in alot of self talk!).

It has forced me to be still, and to live in the moment (even the horrible ones). To stick close to home and spend time with the people that mean the most to me. Sometimes this new lifestyle can be inconvenient and the old Jen gets frustrated and stir crazy at the thought of staying home. But then I remind myself that this is a short term problem. Soon enough my life will be back on track with the comings and goings of my busy life.

Don't get me wrong. I will continue to fight the good fight, and I plan on fixing Little's wagon so that getting out of the house will be easier. But while we work on developing this new skill, you'll know where to find me. At the bottom of a wine glass (just kidding!). At home, with Big and Little.

Mother Love, Mother Guilt and all the feelings in between

This year on Mother's Day I enjoyed a lovely brunch made by Big Daddy, I received a gift certificate to purchase some jewelry (I have my eye on some new earings), Big made me a beautiful painting at school and my darling little brother and his super awesome wife had flowers delivered to the house. They are so gorgeous that I took a picture to show you!

My parents came over for a visit and we all enjoyed a nice meal together (my mom also brought me some ready to make meals to save me from cooking dinner this week). On Saturday my in-laws spent the afternoon with us and my lovely MIL gave me some money to put towards the purchase of new jeans-hooray! It is so nice to be spoiled, isn't it? My family did a great job to make me feel loved and appreciated and the Mother's Day weekend was a great one.

So, isn't it ironic that only 1 day after Mother's Day,a day when Mother's are loved and Mother's love even more than the other 364 days of the year that go unnoticed, that I find myself in a battle with my littlest offspring.

To date, my relationship with my littlest man has been pure bliss. Our love affair has been without roadbumps, roadblocks or obstacles of any kind. He is a very calm, pleasant, smiley, easy-going, loveable, huggable boy. In two words he is: pure awesome. He is such a great baby that up until the other night, I was seriously considering a 3rd. Now, I am not so sure (I can hear the sigh of relief coming from Big Daddy as he feels we should live by my father's golden rules: Rule #1 Never let them outnumber you. Rule #2 Don't break Rule #1).

So, what has caused Little and I to cross the ever so delicate line between love and hate? I can hear my mother now "There's a fine line between love and hate, Jennifer"- always making this comment after my across the street neighbour, Ryan, had irritated me to the point of major emotional erruption. I admit that was not hard to do, I am a bit of a drama queen. But this story is not about a short lived romance with the boy across the street. This is a story about the day when Little 'forgot' how to sleep!

He used to be quite stellar. Sure, he didn't always make it through the night, but you could always count on being able to place him wide awake in bed , walk away and he would drift off to lala land all on his own. Then the other day, in a flash, it was over. Soon I found myself pacing the floor, rocking and sitting, combined with interludes of letting him CIO for a while , only to go back in the room to try the shhh-pat/PUPD technique a-la Baby Whisperer (which normally works like magic). After about, I don't know the 50th attempt at trying to get this little terror to finally go to sleep, I had to call in the reinforcements. I was spent. I had no more tricks up my sleeve.

Luckily for me and Little, Big Daddy took my 'sublte cues' to go in to the room and woo this babe back to sleepyville. These cues included, but were not limited to: swearing, sighing, kicking covers off and flinging myself down to the pillows out of frustration and exhaustion, followed by a fairly strong 'nudge' (okay, maybe more of a jab) and a "You go deal with him- I'm through!".

Like I said, I was subtle.

Like a bomb.

45 minutes after sending Big Daddy into the room, I finally heard him return to our bed, slide under the covers and fall back asleep. Later I found out that he didn't do any of the sleep training techniques we have used in the past. Instead he sat in the rocker holding his baby boy until sleep found him again. I was only mildly annoyed that this was the option he chose while I sweated it out trying to 'teach' this kid to sleep properly. However, I was so thankful to not be in the room anymore and happy that this baby finally went back to sleep after being AWAKE for over 2 hours in the middle of the night, that I chose not to say anything. If I have learned anything at all over 7 years of marraige it is that you have to pick your battles.

The next night wasn't any better. So this time when Big Daddy was sent in I didn't ask him what he did to get him back to sleep. I just didn't care. All I was a break from the bruiser.

By the third night I found the inner strength and patience to deal with Little again. This time my killer PU/PD method +shhh pat worked and he was back off to sleep in 10 minutes. On night 4 we had success again with only a brief disruption of sleep.

Today as I finally have some time to write I remain hopeful that by the end of the week our Little will be sleeping through the night again and peace and bliss will once again return to this household.

Fingers crossed.

If not, babies are usual 'For Sale' at 2 am. Inquire within.

**Editor's note: This blog post has been in draft mode for 1 week and we are still dealing with sleep challenges. Desire for 3rd baby continues decrease. A sister for the brothers is becoming less likely with each passing night. Sob.**