I've been dressing like a hobo...

I'm now nearly 11 months post-partum.  I should be back to my pre-maternity size (should have been way long ago).  I shouldn't even consider wearing some of my maternity clothes, but I do.  I should dress sharp and look neat when I go to work.  But, every day when I look in the mirror, I so often think, "well, I'm not leaving the office today, and I feel like a hobo, but I'm comfortable."  I used to say "I dress like a homeless person," but I thought that was insensitive and I didn't want to insult folks who are down on their luck.  Hobo seemed more appropriate since they're more in charge of their circumstances and choose to live a hobo-lifestyle.  I guess that's what I'm doing right now?  

 

I've been looking back through a lot of old pageant pictures lately.  In that time of my life, I was well dressed, sharp, thin, tan, fit and always "put together."  I'd gained and lost weight over the years, but always felt like I looked nice when I left the house, whether I was going to ride, to work, or to lunch with friends.  I had stylish clothes, pretty shoes, and matching accessories.  I felt like a million bucks, even through much of the pregnancy (see maternity picture to right!).  

 

But, in March 2010, when I found out Charlie was on the way, I started my descent from pageant girl lawyer...to expectant mother... to new mother... to hobo.  I'd lost a lot of weight before I got pregnant, but due to some early complications, I couldn't work out (and eating anything remotely healthy made me want to toss my cookies).  So, for several months, I lived on Taco Bell, fruit (go figure?) and Outback cheese fries.  I cringed every time I stepped on the scale, but thought it would be ok because everyone told me I'd "lose all of the weight so easy when nursing" (NOT...that was a big load of crap!).  I felt like a hippo by the time I went into the hospital to meet the little man.  What I didn't expect was to feel like a hippo for quite some time afterward!  When I went back to work, I was still nursing, so out of ease and necessity, I became a big fan of the tank top/open cardigan combo.  It was easy access, covered my post-baby body, and with the right accessories, looked fairly stylish and professional (or so I thought).  Then, I encountered another post-pregnancy issue...my feet had gotten bigger and my toes hurt from all of the foot swelling at the end of my pregnancy.  So, I had to lose my pretty heels and resort to some shoes that resemble clod-hoppers (a small improvement from my Croc dress flats I wore during the pregnancy that Jared HATED).  Charlie was still waking up every three hours to eat during my first THREE months back to work.  Through the exhaustion, I thought I looked pretty good.  Luckily, I have very few pictures of myself during this time.

 

But, then the sleep deprivation haze wore off and on one fateful day, I took a good look in the mirror and realized I looked like a HOBO.  I was wearing granny shoes (or the good old faithful crocs), ill-fitting pants (that I later discovered had a spit up spot on the leg), a tank that seemed to accentuate my post-baby midsection, an open cardigan (complete with usual spot on my left shoulder where Charlie "hugs" me every morning), messy pony tail and bags under my eyes.  Even when I went to ride, I was wearing baggy jeans and t-shirts (not my usual sharp-er slim jeans and fitted polo).  I was NOT the picture of a glowing new mother OR former pageant queen OR equestrian athlete.  I was an overpaid HOBO.  Unfortunately, I was not motivated enough by the shocking image in the mirror, so nothing changed.   I've convinced myself that it's ok...I work long hours, have a house, husband, horse and child...I don't have time to work out and look nice.  I have to walk a lot, so it's ok to wear comfortable shoes.  And, I'm a new mom, so no one will notice the little slobber stain on my pants, right?     

 

Yesterday was a rough day, but I wore my favorite suit and shoes and I felt sharp again.  Today, I'm back to hobo, BUT today, I'm a hobo with Chi-straigtened hair and an urge to get an overdue eyebrow wax.  Baby steps, right?  I'm about four weeks back into weight watchers and it is working (even though most people haven't noticed including my husband)!  I'm determined to get back in shape and return, at least sometimes, to feeling like a badass in a sharp suit (or at least nice boots and jeans!)  And, I'd like to do that before the end of the year.  Now that I've said it, I'm asking my friends to please help me stay focused (and feel free to laugh and make jokes about me when I look like a hobo...it will keep me motivated), but please don't make fun of my shoes until I can find some more stylish kicks for these poor feet.  I'll pull out my Cole Haans when I need them.  :-) 

 

Lessons of the day:

(1) Life is too short to wear mommy jeans and ugly shoes.

(2) Tractor supply STILL doesn't carry baby food for my one stop shopping needs...aarrggh!

Saying goodbye to our hero

Some of you may have read my October 4 post about the passing of my friend, Kimi Agar.  Today, we laid our American hero to rest.  It’s always so hard to say goodbye and the service was all too familiar a feeling from three most untimely deaths in our family in 2004 and 2006.  But, through the sadness, my heart is filled with pride – for Kimi, for my “family” who came together in her honor and memory, and for a country that allows people to line the streets with flags and shut down highways to honor a fallen soldier. 

When I won Miss Longview Area, I didn’t realize the struggles I’d face with a new director to the system and the distance between my area and my home.  What I also didn’t realize was the incredible family I’d just been “crowned” into.  Before I won my local title, I’d also competed at Northeast Tarrant County and Plano.  I am so blessed that both of those pageant directors took me in “off the streets!”  Brenda, Leslie and Jan welcomed me into their homes, helped me with wardrobe, talent and interview…all the way to Miss Texas…and after.  I was also blessed that Kimi Agar was also part of the Northeast Tarrant County family.  So, during the countless hours I spent at the Harville’s house, some of those were also spent with Kimi.    

I’m proud to be a veteran of the Miss Texas Organization.  Even though I was only able to compete for one year (I was a geriatric pageant girl and aged out after my first year), it was a great year and I met some incredible people.  Through the highs and lows, it’s a family.  And, today, that family came together.  Bruce Wallace started the service with a heartfelt recitation of the Soldier’s Creed.  Terry Telligman spoke such a truth about how we all have different parts of our lives with different sets of friends… and that those pieces don’t always intersect.  And, then Christy Kibler touched my heart when she spoke today about how people go their separate ways and lose touch.  Today, I saw friends that I hadn’t seen in years and some that I’ve only “met” through our Facebook connections.  And, it made me realize how often that happens in life.  We get busy with work, children and life outside of whatever activity brought us together.  I’ve lost touch with high school friends, college friends, horse friends, work friends and pageant friends.  But… the best thing about true friends is that you can pick right back up where you left off – as if time hasn’t passed.  And today, we were all able to come together to honor Kimi.         

As I sat there today, I realized why I loved Kimi so much.  I’ve tried to be so sweet and use soft words, and I certainly hope this description doesn’t offend anyone, but the word that kept popping in my mind is “badass.”  She was beautiful beyond words, fierce, compassionate and kind.  She was a princess and a soldier.  She could wear a sparkly dress and heels and then trade them in for camo.  (I had to smile at a picture in the slideshow of her “pageant posing” in her fatigues).  In my “prime,” I used to ride my horse at full speed cross country and jump big things that don’t fall down.  I think that, at least for that period of my life, I was a badass.  And, I remember driving onto the base for my interview with Air Force JAG and feeling like a badass.  But, I took an office job, drive a safe car and compete now in a safer horse sport …I’ve lost that badass part of myself.  Kimi was the badass that I’d always wanted to be, she did things that I wasn’t brave enough to do, and although she was 8 years younger, I looked up to her with the utmost respect.  She was a little sister in this pageant family and I loved her.  

I’m sure she was looking down and smiling today at the overwhelming display of love, friendship and patriotism.  What a beautiful tribute to a beautiful soul.  Even though I’m not able to tell her in person, something I’ll always regret, I know Kimi will hear me when I say “I’m SO proud of you, Sgt. Agar.”                 

Meet Jac...my 1000 pound toddler.

Charlie is still an "infant."  But, I'm getting some practice on what's to come since I also have a toddler...my horse Jac Smart.  I've usually always had older horses that have been around the block and I tend to forget that Jac is still a toddler.  He's 4 years old.  At 2, he started working, and he was showing at 3, so he's been around the block, but he's never, until now, gotten a chance to be a toddler.  

 

Jac Smart as a baby

 

 

I'm beginning to think there's not a whole lot of difference in raising a horse or a human (my horse friends are probably laughing and my non-horse friends are gasping!)  I realized that we "horse people" use a lot of the same terminology for our babies, human and equine alike.  For instance, when I was pregnant, I used to accidentally say "when this baby is on the ground" ("when he's born" in human talk).  I cluck when I want things to go faster (i.e. the cars in front of me in traffic).  And, the other night, my trainer (who has a son 4 days younger than Charlie) was talking about their nightly bedtime routine and when their son isn't ready to go to bed, they just have to "lope him down" ("wear him out" in human talk).     

 

But, a couple of weeks ago, I discovered the main difference between raising a toddler human and a toddler horse.  When the toddler human sees something new or scary, they investigate or laugh or cry.  When a toddler horse sees something new, the new thing is automatically scary, and the toddler horse must flee from it as quickly as possible to avoid imminent death - even if the new thing is just a toy, peice of wood, or...say...beeping truck.  I also learned that the toddler horse can hurls his 1000 pound body directly sideways in about 1/100 of a second, leaving his "mommy" no chance to come along for the ride.  My recent fall was really my fault - I often forget that Jac is a toddler and let my guard down.  I never let my guard down on my Thoroughbreds, but Jac is a quarter horse and bred for a laid back temperment.  In fact, we even laughed that the big spook was an indication that "at least he did something fast!"  

 

Earlier this week, he accidentally stepped back and tore out a huge hunk of his tail.  For about the next five minutes, he went around the arena thrashing his tail around and flicking his ears (horse equivalent of yelling "OUCH!" "OUCH!" and sticking out his bottom lip) to make me feel terrible for allowing him to injure himself.  And, in true toddler fashion, a few minutes later, he completely forgot about his tail when he saw water sprinklers for the first time.  Before I even knew what hit us, that little black peice of plastic came out of the ground, the water turned on, and with the first "schoo-schoo-schooo" of the sprinkler, we were entirely across the arena in about three steps - luckily, he found it necessary to carry me with him on this emergency escape.  Don't get me wrong...he's a great horse.  He's just a toddler and his reactions to new things are not always calm and calculated.  When I bought him, he would spook in slow motion.  So, I guess he's learned something new.  Ggrreeaatt.   

 

Both of my babies test me.  Charlie tests us on how long we'll let him cry before we come to the rescue.  Jac decided that he didn't want to turn left this week.  Jac has also realized that when he poops, I run behind him and clean up.  So, it's a game to him now....I think he saves it up...and he drops no less than three "gifts" for me, always inside the barn.  I can see him secretly laughing at me as he watches me drag the muck bucket around and I think I heard him whisper "bet you feel like a big fancy lawyer now...shit scooper girl."   I'm not a patient person with many things, but I've always been patient with my horses and Charlie...but they sure put me to the test sometimes.  If horses, and children, will make you anything, they'll make you humble!         

 

 

Closing thoughts:

(1)  It's a good thing toddler horses don't wear diapers.  No Genie would contain that. 

(2)  If the feed store would carry Gerber, my life would be a lot simpler.

 

 

 

Lightening the mood...."I am stuck on Band-Aid" and other tales of a new mom

After yesterday, I thought I needed to write something funny to lighten the mood....

 

I'm a new mom.  I try to keep up with things for Charlie...the best food, clothes that fit, diapers that don't leak, etc.  But, sometimes things fall through the cracks. 

 

Some of you know our Basset hound, Dixie.  She's not the typical lay around and snooze all day kind of Basset.  She gets excited, particularly and overly excited when we return home.  Several Sunday afternoons ago, Jared and I came in from the grocery store.  Dixie seemed to have settled down, so I sat Charlie on the floor so that I could help put away the groceries.  But, Dixie got riled up again, ran OVER Charlie and cut his foot with one of her freshly clipped sharp toenails.  He was otherwise unharmed and unbothered by the whole occurrence, but I was mortified that the dog had gashed my little boy's otherwise pristine flesh.  She got a stern "talking to" about settling down, and then I went to attend to Charlie's gaping bleeding wound.  (Ok...it was just one scratch and one inch long cut that was bleeding a little, but at the time, I thought he might have needed a plastic surgeon to ensure he didn't scar. I mean...it did draw blood!) 

 

So, operation first-aid commenced.  I was so glad I took the first aid training for Pony Club and through work - I was prepared to deal with my first emergency situation.  I held Charlie over the sink and poured peroxide on the wound, washed my hands and put neosporin on it, then put a couple of baby-sized Band-Aids on him and put him in his footy PJs to get ready for bed.  The wound was safe, clean, medicated, and protected by Band-Aids and footie pajamas.  (This is the point in the story, as I was telling it to my friend Amie at work the following morning  - Amie is super-mom by the way -  when Amie gasped and exclaimed, "YOU put a Band-Aid on a baby?  They can choke on Band-Aids!")  I panicked...on the inside.  I pretended like I was busy so that Amie would leave... and I could call the daycare to stop the impending disaster.  I had already taken Charlie to daycare that morning with fresh Band-Aids on his foot covered by socks (that he usually pulls off about two minutes after I walk out the door).  And, when I got home, Charlie was playing on the floor, with his wound exposed to the air.  (Better than having those death strips on his foot, I thought.)  So, I kept applying neosporin and socks....NO more Band-Aids...he could choke on Band-Aids.  I was so relieved that the daycare had removed the potential choking hazard...thank goodness we caught it in time.  

 

The next morning (Tuesday), when I dropped Charlie off at school and thanked his teacher for removing the Band-Aids, with a funny look, she said, "what Band-Aids?"  I was convinced that someone else must have handled it and dismissed the whole thing.  Either way...Charlie survived, didn't choke, and the Band-Aids were gone...never to be heard from again (until he's old enough not to put sticky plastic strips in his mouth)...or so I thought.  

 

Let me preface this, without too many icky details, by saying that Charlie has some "systems issues," so we're always glad to see a "business" diaper.  On Wednesday night, despite my eventual horror, I was also glad to know that Charlie was in working order and that it takes exactly two days for something to run through him.  There it was...the death strip...a reminder of my incompetence as a parent...right there in Charlie's diaper.  The Band-Aid had resurfaced.  As Charlie laid there giggling and playing with a bottle of lotion, I felt the tears in my eyes over what could have happened (he could have choked, could have stopped breathing, could have gotten the Band-Aid stuck somewhere along the way!) 

 

I decided to share the news with Jared to make sure that he NEVER used Band-Aids on Charlie.  I was also hoping for a little comfort that "no one knows that" or "we're both learning."  NOPE.  Jared's response?  "Well, I (emphasis on the iiiiii) knew not to put a Band-Aid on a baby."  No he didn't...or else he would have said something when I bragged about putting the first neatly placed Band-Aid on Charlie three days before.  But, now I know he's in on the conspiracy to make me question my parenting skills.      

 

Moral of the story to my expectant mom friends...there are SO many things that they don't tell you when you leave the hospital with your little bundle of joy...this is one of those things.  I remember the "I am stick on Band-Aids, cause Band-Aid's stuck on me" advertisement...which made me think "sometimes you feel like a nut....sometimes you dont."   Most days, as a new mom....I feel like a nut.  Maybe I'll get through today without doing something stupid.  Charlie has withdrawn my nomination for Mother of the Year...again. 

Trying to be a hero...

Disclaimer:  Reflective post warning...

Facebook is weird and it's even more addictive.  Every day, I have to have some coffee and a little facebook time to see what everyone is doing.  It feeds my nosey Gemini personality.  I usually laugh at my friends who've told a funny story about something embarrassing, comment on some posts that I can relate to (weight loss, lame horses, crazy work days, etc.) and get back to work.  But, this morning, when I opened Facebook expecting to see some updated pictures from the horse trials last weekend and some ranting posts about traffic, I saw post, after post, after post about something so shocking and sad that I still sit here in disbelief.  A U.S. Soldier has been "heavenly deployed."  And, that soldier was my friend, Kim Agar. 

When I think of Kimmie, I remember one of my very first Miss Texas Preliminaries.  I really didn't know anyone, but that didn't last long (those who knew Kim are probably giggling now).  When I arrived and headed out into the theatre for talent rehearsal, a precious young girl with a huge smile and mouth full of braces greeted me.  Kim was a teen contestant and I was old - actually, I was in my last year of eligibility and a second year law student.  I thought Kim was "cute," until I saw her step confidently up onto that stage and release her big, beautiful voice, and then I realized she was amazing!  I honestly can't remember the results of that pageant, but I'll never forget meeting Kim...and her mom, Margy.  Being an "older" contestant, I was usually by myself.  At every pageant, Margy would root for me to make sure I heard someone cheering.  As my pageant family grew, so did the cheers, usually led by Margy (and my other pageant mom, Kim Lyons Scroggins).  I had a wonderful year ending in my "retirement" from pageants.  But, over the following years, I watched Kimmie grow from that sweet little girl into a beautiful accomplished woman.  And, I remember when I first learned that she had joined the Army and was going to Iraq.  We all prayed...we prayed through the deployment, prayed with every one of Margy's message board and Facebook posts, and were relieved when Kimmie was leaving Iraq and headed to Germany.  Kim was a US Army Transportation Specialist and earned a Combat Action Badge after her unit was hit by an IED in Iraq.
In "pageantland," it's a silly joke to answer a question "and world peace."  But, for Kim, it wasn't a joke at all...it was her life.  She was a United States Army soldier fighting for world peace.    

Today also took me back to mid-September 2004 when I learned that my friend Tyler Brown was killed in Iraq.  I was overwhelmed with shock, sadness, and pride.  I couldn't contain how proud I was to know a real hero.  And, I was so blessed to be able to spend some time visiting Tyler on September 11, 2008 at Arlington National Cemetary in Washington, D.C.  Standing there on that warm fall morning, looking around that beautiful place, I knew that Tyler was where God wanted him to be....surrounded by heros.

I am SO incredibly proud of my friends who serve in the military and I'm humbled by the sacrifices they've made to serve our country.  My step-brother Lance was in the Air Force, friend Lee in the National Guard, and friend, Alyson in the Air Force.  I seriously looked into JAG when I was in my third year of law school, applied and interviewed with Air Force JAG, went through the physical, got into the last stages of the process and decided that I just wasn't cut out for military life (code for "chickened out" at deployment).    I'm simply in awe of my lifelong friend, Alyson.   We met when we were either 4 or 5 years old and graduated together.  Now, our babies are just a month or so apart and I love seeing the pictures of her precious Chloe.  It's easy for me to forget that while we struggle through new motherhood together, and I think my days are tough, she's also serving our country a US Air Force pilot, worrying about her deployed husband (who has thankfully returned home recently) and going through nursing school.  I remember sleepovers at Alyson's house when we were little, going through school together, traveling Europe together.  She's always been a wonderful person.  But, now she's also a mother and a hero.  I smile when I think of what an amazing role model she is for her daughter and how I hope I can have half that impact on Charlie.  And, I hope this makes her smile to see what an impact she's having on her friends!

Today has made me take a huge step back and a good look at things...what's important...my everyday heros.  It's easy to be dragged down into whining about bills, calendars, slow computers, and rude drivers.  What's important is that I have a husband that loves me even when I'm certainly not at my best, that I have a healthy, happy, beautiful baby boy, that I have good friends, and that I have a job that I love and a wonderful boss.   

So, I've decided to try to be positive, have a better attitude, and be more of a "hero" to those around me.  It's not much in comparison, but in honor and memory of my friends mentioned above, it's the best I can do.   

God bless you all and God bless America!  Signing off with a video of Kimmie singing God Bless America at Miss Texas.  http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lVygQLXHhqc.  RIP Kim. You will be greatly missed.