I made dinner tonight. Victory.
You can in fact eat pizza three nights in a row for dinner and still lose weight. A. Mazing.
Indian style (or whatever the PC term is for sitting with your legs crossed is) is a bad idea. I think it will be for a while.
So is scooting around the floor on your butt trying to capture a picture of your two children who have yet to be pictured together because your 2 year old isn't so sure just yet is a bad idea. And it's even worse when you have the wrong lens on so you are way too close to capture anything.
We are about 24 hours from the 2 week mark and I still have medical tape remnants on my hands from the IV. Judge away. I have showered at least every other day.
There is no guilt more gripping or irrational than mommy guilt. This will be an entire chapter in my book someday. C said to me this afternoon 'My want to doe on venture with you Mommy'. Translation: I want to go on an adventure with you Mommy. He had just gotten back from an adventure with Daddy. Heart. Broken. We are going on an adventure on Friday. Every time E eats he wants to eat. Every time I pick her up he wants to be picked up. It's hard. Really. Effing. Hard.
You can in fact watch Toy Story too many times. To infinity and... shoot me. The first one is better than the second for the record.
Even a good latch will make your toes curl for at least a few seconds.
I have irrational anxiety about daylight saving (little known fact: it is NOT daylight savingS time) time and a toddler's sleep schedule. It's only awesome to 'fall back' if you get an extra hour before last call and get to sleep in even later.
The infamous squirt bottle is now a toy.
The Best part? Weigh in tomorrow for E. Hoping to be back to birth weight... or like 10 pounds.