March 2001




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3/05/2001

My daughter now weighs as many pounds as I gained during pregnancy. But unfortunately, she didn't get them from me. Like many women, I swore to myself my whole pregnancy that as soon as I got the okay from my doctor I was going to lose the weight, no matter what. Two years later, I'm still making that promise to myself. I firmly believe in mind over matter, but decideing to lose weight does not make it magically go away. So I bought a treadmill. But alas, I found out again that just buying an exercise machine does not make me wake up 2 sizes smaller. The same would hold true for inheriting an excer-bike. So, my quest for the perfect excercise routine began. I used to withhold Diet Cokes from myself until I got my excercises done for the day. But I'd go out to dinner, have 3 sodas and after a while end up owing myself 72 solid hours of excerise. Next was to walk the neighbourhood everyday. No problem, but with a toddler who doesn't want to ride in a stroller, our walks are less than brisk. I even pulled out my old equipment, the thighmaster and the abdominizer. The abdominizer makes my back hurt and the thigh master just turns my husband on enough to distract me. So now I've revisited Billy Blanks and the world of Tae-Bo. I figure every other day, plus walks on the other days and maybe something will actually happen this time. But first I need to learn how to control my moves so I stop kicking my child in the head.

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3/12/2001

6 days a week, if anyone to drop by to visit me, I would be perfectly fine with it. As long as it was after 10AM and I've had my morning Diet Coke. But that seventh day, Sunday to be exact, is my slob day. I do laundry so my outfit usually consists of a pair of pajama pants that are short enough to show my unshaven legs, yellow socks with holes in them, a too small sports bra and one of my husbands tank tops. I don't do makeup or hair, because with that outfit, what's the point? I bake a loaf of bread and cookies so my kitchen has a fine layer of flour over it, and usually a sticky spot from a dropped egg. The beds don't get made since I wash the sheets and I let my child run around naked, pulling all her toys out and doing a general destruction on the living room and dining room- okay, so the child is like this everyday, who am I kidding. This day of the week would be the day that my mother and sister decide to visit. I am given a 20 minute warning. Thankfully the child is down for a nap, now to fix everything else. I run a brush through my hair and grab mascara and lipgloss, maybe that will draw attention away from my outfit. I make a quick run through the living room and dining room picking up 5000 kitchen pieces, 3000 puzzle pieces and roughly 1000 books. Frantically I search through my junk drawer for a couple plug-in air freshener cartridges to cover the perpetual smell in the living room of an incontinent dog and a potty training 2 year old. Checking the library, I mean guest bathroom, for tp I notice all the toys in the tub and the collection of magazines. Magazines are easily stacked and I just close the tub door, that will have to do. Time to brush my teeth, whoops! the baby woke up. She took a really short nap and now I have to convince her to get dressed, including hair brushed. She loves her grandmother and aunt, but even the promise that they will show up in 5 minutes does little to persuade her to co-operate. After a struggle which includes some bribery with M&Ms she is shining, at least one of us looks good. Aaack! There's their car pulling into the driveway. Just enough time to pop a Thin Mint and hope for the best. None of it matters, they come to see my kid, not me.

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3/19/2001

It's just not easy being the mother of two children that are completely different in temperment. Oh the hospital says I only gave birth to one baby, but I know better. There's toddler number 1. She is Mommy's little princess. She sleeps through the night, wakes me in the morning to words of love, uses her potty chair and eagerly gets dressed (in underwear!) and starts her day. She is my joy. She not only eats all of her breakfast, she compliments the chef. She plays with her toys while I wake up completely. She wants to help clean, and actually does a better job than I do on some things. During our walk she never lets go of my hand. A trip to the store starts to get the best of her. She's get a little irritable. I tell her to stop- and she does. Two salesladies actually give me praise for my parenting skills. She falls asleep in the car ride home, transfers to her bed and stays asleep for the next 2 hours. Dinner out is a breeze, she amuses herself with the crayons, eats her own food, not mine, and figures out the tip when it's time to pay. Home, bath, bed- she's asleep 5 minutes after I shut the door. Then there's toddler number 2. This one wakes 3 times at night because she has inherited her father's inability to look for anything and can't find her pacifier that is inches from her head. She wakes an hour early and demands I get out of bed well before any human should. She refuses to have her diaper changed despite that flys are starting to hover. Once the diaper and pajamas are off, so is she- naked. Breakfast is flung at the cats and the potty chair is shunned. She won't let me clean, yet makes a new mess every 5 minutes. During our walk she has to be carried half way because my hand has suddenly become the most replusive thing and she refuses to even touch it. A quick errand makes me look like the poster Mommy for a book called "Don't Let This Happen to You." A nap is accomplished, but only after 2 hours of screaming, yelling and tears, from both of us. Dinner out never happens as I still haven't managed to get her dressed. Bath goes well, but getting her out is a nightmare. I end up wetter than her. She's not tired at bed time because she took such a late nap. I go to bed while she is still awake. I fall asleep to the sound of her singing "Mommy, come out, come out where ever you are." I really need to stop saying I have an only child.

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3/26/2001

Conversations with a two year old:
"Mommy, I want Kool-Aid"
"We don't have Kool-Aid, would you like some water?"
"But I like Kool-Aid"
"Well, I'm sorry, but we don't have any, would you like some water?"
"Juice please"
"We don't have juice" (does anyone else see the pattern here) "Would you like some water?"
"I want juuuuuuuiiiiiiiccccceeee!!!!"
"Look, you can have water or you can have nothing. Why are you crying?"
"I'm sad"
"Why are you sad?"
"I want water"

"Want to go in the pool"
"It's too cold and the pool is dirty"
"Want to go outside"
"I'm sorry, but it's too cold"
"Want to go outside and look for bugs"
"No, it's too cold, no outside, no bugs, no"
"Want to go in the front yard"

"Time to get books"
"It's not naptime!" (screamed at the top of her lungs)
"Yes it is, time to get books"
"No! It's not naptime!"
"If you don't stop screaming I'm not reading you stories"
"But I like stories"
"Then stop crying. Do you want me to read you stories?"
"No!"
"Okay, hop into bed"
"Want read books?"

And lastly
"What are you doing?" (as I spy my child trying to open the front door)
"Want to go outside and find Piglet's house"
End of conversation, what do you say to that?

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