I have officially turned into an adult mother-type person. At least by LaGrange, IN standards. Yesterday marked the day of the annual LaGrange County Tri Kappa Basket Bingo scholarship event and I was in attendance. My mom has been a member of Tri Kappa for years and has recently gone inactive (she did her time, yo) and could actually participate in the playing of the Bingo this year, so she rounded up a bunch of my aunts for a Sunday of food and Bingo fun. Since I happened to be home this past weekend, I was roped in to the party.
Now I say that this is a rite of passage because it is the first time I left my child with someone other than John or a grandparent (so it was my Aunt Lou who is like another grandparent to me but still...) and went to do something FUN. Let me further clarify that, in my old life, something FUN would have consisted of getting a drink or seeing Twilight for the 11th time or shopping for bar clothes but in my new life consists of PLAYING BINGO. Like a 90 year old. And I don't even CARE!
When I arrived at Lakeland Middle School, I stood in a LINE TO GET IN. Seriously. The joint was packed with women in mom jeans and cardigan sweaters (not everyone, but most of them) shuffling over each other to put raffle tickets in buckets next to Pampered Chef, Longaberger, Vera Bradley, and 31 door prizes. I didn't think that any of these items would interest me until I spotted the Pampered Chef pizza baking stone (I could definitely use that for my taco pizza next time...), or the large utility tote from 31 (I could carry so much more laundry to the basement if I had that thing...) or even the Vera Bradley ipad case (That is so cute!).
Let me just stop right there and let you know that yesterday was a big Come to Jesus moment for me. Like, who in the WORLD have I become? I always looked at women from my home town who swore by Vera Bradley and collected Longaberger baskets were so small town, but I have come to realize that they are just grown up. I never in a million years thought that I would go to Basket Bingo and enjoy myself, let alone hope that I would win a prize. That all changed when I had a blast with my mom and family members yesterday and I find myself wishing more and more every day that I lived closer to home so that I could enjoy more time like that with them.
I realize that this post is a little lame, but I just can't get over how much fun I had yesterday and how serious the ladies of LaGrange take their Bingo. Although I did Bingo once, so did four other people at the same time and I lost out in the tiebreaker (and on that large utility tote). To the ladies of Tri Kappa LaGrange (who will probably never read this blog which I am happy about because they might find some of the rest of the entries a tad inappropriate)- you put on a GREAT event for a wonderful cause and I am so happy that I was able to spend yesterday afternoon with you!
Monday, October 31, 2011
Tuesday, October 25, 2011
A Trip to the Pediatrician- My New Twilight Zone
Everything about being a new mom takes some adjusting. Waking up in the middle of the night to do something other than pee, feeding another human being from something that used to be considered a "private" part, and now, even going to the doctor is weird. I love Tenley's pediatrician and even though the experience of visiting his office and everything that goes with it is strange, it's not a bad strange...just different. I don't know if anyone else feels the same way, but below I will try to state my case.
First of all, any time I get a call from them the (very perky) receptionist says, "Hi! Is this Tenley's mom?" and it always catches me off guard. In a way it is kind of cute, but in another I want to say that, "Yes, but although I am Tenley's mom I do have a name and it is Chrisanne Terry. Just because I am now a mom does not mean that I have lost all sense of who I am other than a mother. Do I call your office and, when you answer, say 'Hi! Is this Tenley's doctor's receptionist?' See my point?" Now, I realize that this may seem petty and I am incredibly proud to identify myself as Tenley's mom. But what if I wasn't Tenley's mom? What if I died unexpectedly and Tenley's grandma answered? Then there would have to be a long, awkward conversation about how Tenley's mom succumbed to food poisoning after one too many Big Johns and, unfortunately, is no longer available. That could all be avoided if I was asked for in another manner.
Next, whenever I go to the office, everyone in there is BEYOND happy. Like, when you walk in the door, you feel like it is the place where rainbows are born. And maybe even where smiley faces were invented. Everyone is just so positive and nice. I could probably bring my kid in there covered in head-to-toe vomit and they would be like, "Hey there! I hope you're having a sunshiney day!" I enjoy this positive attitude because it may be the only place left in the world where it exists. I also love it that they want to take Tenley's picture every time she comes in. I wish I could get in on the action as well so we could have a mother/daughter photo shoot every three months. Once we are taken care of, we are directed to sit in the "well child" area so that we don't have to be next to the sickies. I really appreciate it but, in all honestly, there is a half wall that separates the healthy kids from the not-so-healthy ones and you can't tell me that when the sick kids are called back to the rooms they don't wipe their snot all over the toys on the way there. I am saying this because one day my Tenley will be the sick kid and, if she's anything like her father, she'll touch every single square inch of that place before getting to where she's SUPPOSED to go.
Once you finally make it into a room, they ask you to undress your baby down to the diaper so that they can be weighed and measured. Already teaching them that the less they have on, the more favorable the number on the scale. Then they want you to hold their head against the top of the scale so that they can be measured which is like trying to control a puppy...all wiggles and no cooperation. And heaven forbid you don't hold her and get an inaccurate measurement- then you feel like your child must be a dwarf because they only grew a quarter of an inch in two months. (True story- that happened to me between months 2 and 4- thankfully today I did it right and she grew and inch and a half since last time...now she MUST be a giant. I'm already contacting scouts for a basketball scholarship). Once the all important weight/height/head measurements are done and you are assured that your baby is getting fat like they're supposed to, they banish you to a room to wait for the doctor. And wait. And wait. By the time he finally arrives, your baby has gained another pound from eating again and then pooping.
Once the doctor arrives, he walks into the room and does this thing like, "Hey...oh, HEEEEEEEEEYYYYY" like he didn't recognize you and then realized that you are a long lost friend. I know that he doesn't know me and rightfully so- he sees dozens of kids every day. The thing that cracks me up the most is that he then proceeds to say, "I can't believe ______ is 6 months already!" I leave a ____ there because he hasn't consulted his computer yet for her name or whether she is a boy or girl and since she doesn't have the all important hair bow on or any clothes to give away her gender, he kind of glosses over the he/she part. But I am ok with all of this because he is awesome and so much fun to talk to. He then goes through the appointment and answers any questions with either "That's totally normal" or "Uh huh, Uh huh (big smile)" if I give him an answer he likes. I should throw a couple of trick questions in there some time. For example:
Me: Tenley's poop has been pea green a lot lately, is that OK?
Dr.: That's totally normal
Me: I just started feeding her sweet potatoes- is that an OK first food?
Dr.: Uh huh, uh huh
Me: I've been thinking about going scuba diving with sharks while Tenley is strapped to my back for a little Mommy/Baby bonding time
What do you say to THAT???
Once we are all finished, the doctor tells me that I'm doing everything perfectly (he's such a boost for my ego) and that Tenley will be getting more shots. Since she is my daughter, she takes them like a pro with about 2.5 seconds of crying and we are on our way out the door. As the receptionist perkily makes my next appointment, I look forward to the next time I come back because there will be no more shots and this place just makes me want to crap cute balloon animals.
So there you have it. My new Twilight Zone comes in the form of an office full of doctors and perky staff. Nothing too scary, but different nonetheless. Tenley must have enjoyed her experience today, because she is squealing in delight for no apparent reason and laughing hysterically. If I find out that she was injected with rays of sunshine instead of rotavirus, then Tenley's mom is totally making an appointment for herself some time in the near future.
First of all, any time I get a call from them the (very perky) receptionist says, "Hi! Is this Tenley's mom?" and it always catches me off guard. In a way it is kind of cute, but in another I want to say that, "Yes, but although I am Tenley's mom I do have a name and it is Chrisanne Terry. Just because I am now a mom does not mean that I have lost all sense of who I am other than a mother. Do I call your office and, when you answer, say 'Hi! Is this Tenley's doctor's receptionist?' See my point?" Now, I realize that this may seem petty and I am incredibly proud to identify myself as Tenley's mom. But what if I wasn't Tenley's mom? What if I died unexpectedly and Tenley's grandma answered? Then there would have to be a long, awkward conversation about how Tenley's mom succumbed to food poisoning after one too many Big Johns and, unfortunately, is no longer available. That could all be avoided if I was asked for in another manner.
Next, whenever I go to the office, everyone in there is BEYOND happy. Like, when you walk in the door, you feel like it is the place where rainbows are born. And maybe even where smiley faces were invented. Everyone is just so positive and nice. I could probably bring my kid in there covered in head-to-toe vomit and they would be like, "Hey there! I hope you're having a sunshiney day!" I enjoy this positive attitude because it may be the only place left in the world where it exists. I also love it that they want to take Tenley's picture every time she comes in. I wish I could get in on the action as well so we could have a mother/daughter photo shoot every three months. Once we are taken care of, we are directed to sit in the "well child" area so that we don't have to be next to the sickies. I really appreciate it but, in all honestly, there is a half wall that separates the healthy kids from the not-so-healthy ones and you can't tell me that when the sick kids are called back to the rooms they don't wipe their snot all over the toys on the way there. I am saying this because one day my Tenley will be the sick kid and, if she's anything like her father, she'll touch every single square inch of that place before getting to where she's SUPPOSED to go.
Once you finally make it into a room, they ask you to undress your baby down to the diaper so that they can be weighed and measured. Already teaching them that the less they have on, the more favorable the number on the scale. Then they want you to hold their head against the top of the scale so that they can be measured which is like trying to control a puppy...all wiggles and no cooperation. And heaven forbid you don't hold her and get an inaccurate measurement- then you feel like your child must be a dwarf because they only grew a quarter of an inch in two months. (True story- that happened to me between months 2 and 4- thankfully today I did it right and she grew and inch and a half since last time...now she MUST be a giant. I'm already contacting scouts for a basketball scholarship). Once the all important weight/height/head measurements are done and you are assured that your baby is getting fat like they're supposed to, they banish you to a room to wait for the doctor. And wait. And wait. By the time he finally arrives, your baby has gained another pound from eating again and then pooping.
Once the doctor arrives, he walks into the room and does this thing like, "Hey...oh, HEEEEEEEEEYYYYY" like he didn't recognize you and then realized that you are a long lost friend. I know that he doesn't know me and rightfully so- he sees dozens of kids every day. The thing that cracks me up the most is that he then proceeds to say, "I can't believe ______ is 6 months already!" I leave a ____ there because he hasn't consulted his computer yet for her name or whether she is a boy or girl and since she doesn't have the all important hair bow on or any clothes to give away her gender, he kind of glosses over the he/she part. But I am ok with all of this because he is awesome and so much fun to talk to. He then goes through the appointment and answers any questions with either "That's totally normal" or "Uh huh, Uh huh (big smile)" if I give him an answer he likes. I should throw a couple of trick questions in there some time. For example:
Me: Tenley's poop has been pea green a lot lately, is that OK?
Dr.: That's totally normal
Me: I just started feeding her sweet potatoes- is that an OK first food?
Dr.: Uh huh, uh huh
Me: I've been thinking about going scuba diving with sharks while Tenley is strapped to my back for a little Mommy/Baby bonding time
What do you say to THAT???
Once we are all finished, the doctor tells me that I'm doing everything perfectly (he's such a boost for my ego) and that Tenley will be getting more shots. Since she is my daughter, she takes them like a pro with about 2.5 seconds of crying and we are on our way out the door. As the receptionist perkily makes my next appointment, I look forward to the next time I come back because there will be no more shots and this place just makes me want to crap cute balloon animals.
So there you have it. My new Twilight Zone comes in the form of an office full of doctors and perky staff. Nothing too scary, but different nonetheless. Tenley must have enjoyed her experience today, because she is squealing in delight for no apparent reason and laughing hysterically. If I find out that she was injected with rays of sunshine instead of rotavirus, then Tenley's mom is totally making an appointment for herself some time in the near future.
Sunday, October 23, 2011
It's Been A Loooong Time...
Today I just happened to log on to blogspot to check and see if another blog that I try and catch up on occasionally had any new posts. I decided to check this blog to see when I had last cared enough to write anything and, to my surprise, the last post was August 9th, 2010 and it was about my dog. It is so funny to think that, at the time I wrote that blog, I had no idea that I was pregnant and that my life would change forever. In just 14 short months I have been pregnant, delivered a child, become a mother, left my job for a year, and entered into the lifelong commitment of becoming a mommy. And it's pretty stinkin' awesome and really weird at the same time. I don't think that there are enough character spaces on blogspot to go into what my life is like right now, but I thought that I would give it a shot.
Being a mommy is great and I have a really awesome baby. Sure she is fussy, her poop can be a weird (and smelly) pea green, and she has started laughing like a 90 year old man, but all of these things are endearing because she is MY baby. Although I could spend all day talking about her, I want to talk more about myself because, well, this is Chrisanne's Corner and not Tenley's Corner, right? I can't believe how different things are now that I have another human being to take care of. Before I was pregnant, I put a lot of time and thought into what I ate, how much I worked out, what I wore...the list goes on. Then I got pregnant. Once my first trimester passed, I never met a cookie I didn't love (and devour). I had pizza about 9 times a week and I dreamt about Taco Bell. Literally. Like I took a nap one day, dreamt about Taco Bell, woke up, and before the sleep was out of my eyes I was ordering a Crunchwrap Supreme at 6:00 pm. Said meal was only reserved for 2 am or later if you know what I mean. Because of my bingeing (and the human growing inside of me) I gained a good 50 pounds through my pregnancy. And I didn't care one bit. I kind of liked the attention I would get from people. I would go shopping and, even if I was buying underwear, the salesperson would look at me with glee and ask, "Oh my goodness, when are you due?" And you know that you are clouded by the pregnancy glow when you don't even care that it is old ladies checking you out instead of hot dudes. Besides the backaches, constant having to pee, and feeling like I just got off a horse 95% of the time, pregnancy was awesome. Then I gave birth.
The birthing process was not a fun one. I'm not even going to GO into the details with that one (or maybe I will in another post because it does have some humor) but I remember after the drug haze cleared and I could walk without wanting to scream, I went into by hospital bathroom to see just what a post-birth baby body looks like. I was impressed to see that my waistline was already a bit slimmer. It should have been - an 8 1/2 pound baby and her residual fluids had just popped out- and I thought I would be "back to normal" in no time. I hopped (let's not kid ourselves, gingerly stepped) on a scale a week later and I was down 30 pounds- I didn't even need Bob or Jillian to do it! I thought that it was going to be a piece of cake. Since then, the weight has come off SLOWLY no thanks to me. I still eat like a cow and don't exercise at all except for sprinting to the bathroom so I don't pee my pants. That's a funny after affect of birth- apparently I have lost all ability to "hold it" when I really have to go. Thank goodness I wear sweats most of the time just in case. I actually tried P90 X for a bit and fully intend to get back to it once Tenley decides she would like to sleep for more than a 1/2 hour at a time. So, when she is in kindergarten I will get back to my fitness goals. I don't need Tony Horton yelling at me anyway...Tenley does a fine job of it already.
I notice now that when I am out in public, I am treated differently than before. I have to plan at least an extra 15 minute buffer into every errand or trip because of all the people that randomly stop me to admire my baby. That sounds incredibly coneited, but it's the truth and probably happens to every mom. It takes even longer because they ask me about her name and where it comes from and then I have to explain that no, I didn't get it from a family member or even an ice skater, I got it from a contestant on a morally appalling reality show and then have to deal with the looks of disbelief. So I liked the name Tenley and we got it from The Bachelor...suck it. I'm not naming your kid so why do you care? I am also treated differently by people in stores. I think that when I walk in somewhere with a baby, they think I must be looking for mom jeans and sweatshirts with cats on them. Seriously. For example, I went into Aldo a few weeks ago to find a new pare of black pumps. The ones I have been wearing for the last few years are from 5-7-9 and I thought, I'm a new, mature mom, I should have some new, mature, grown up shoes. When the 25 year old, 110 pound sales girl saw me, she led me towards the wall of flats and said, "Let me know if you have any questions" and smiled condescendingly. Like I'm not cool enough to wear the five inch platform heels I actually came for. I looked at her and said, "Excuse me, beyotch, I came for heels- what do you have?" Actually, that's what I said in my head. What I really said was, "Hahahaha, I'm looking for a new pair of black pumps" and continued to pull the amazing pair of shoes I had been eyeing 55 pregnant pounds ago off the wall. She looked a little surprised, but got them in my size and ten minutes later I had them in a bag and walked out of the store. I wore those shoes the other day and wished I could have gone back in there holding my baby wearing those shoes and said, "Hey remember me?" She totally would have said no, but who cares? It would have been dramatically awesome. I can't help it that the mind of a 25 year old such as hers is clouded with a haze of jello shots, skinny jeans, and working at Aldo. I can't wait until she has a baby and tries to cram herself back in her skinny jeans and 5 inch heels...I hope there is a sales girl to make her feel bad about it too.
There is really no point to this blog except to say that I am going to try to post more (I have some nice friends who actually encourage me to do so because they like to read it) and that things are pretty different since having my amazing daughter. But, all in all, I'm still the same old girl...just a few pounds heavier with a whole new set of responsibilities that are more important (to me) than choosing a bar to go to on Friday.
Being a mommy is great and I have a really awesome baby. Sure she is fussy, her poop can be a weird (and smelly) pea green, and she has started laughing like a 90 year old man, but all of these things are endearing because she is MY baby. Although I could spend all day talking about her, I want to talk more about myself because, well, this is Chrisanne's Corner and not Tenley's Corner, right? I can't believe how different things are now that I have another human being to take care of. Before I was pregnant, I put a lot of time and thought into what I ate, how much I worked out, what I wore...the list goes on. Then I got pregnant. Once my first trimester passed, I never met a cookie I didn't love (and devour). I had pizza about 9 times a week and I dreamt about Taco Bell. Literally. Like I took a nap one day, dreamt about Taco Bell, woke up, and before the sleep was out of my eyes I was ordering a Crunchwrap Supreme at 6:00 pm. Said meal was only reserved for 2 am or later if you know what I mean. Because of my bingeing (and the human growing inside of me) I gained a good 50 pounds through my pregnancy. And I didn't care one bit. I kind of liked the attention I would get from people. I would go shopping and, even if I was buying underwear, the salesperson would look at me with glee and ask, "Oh my goodness, when are you due?" And you know that you are clouded by the pregnancy glow when you don't even care that it is old ladies checking you out instead of hot dudes. Besides the backaches, constant having to pee, and feeling like I just got off a horse 95% of the time, pregnancy was awesome. Then I gave birth.
The birthing process was not a fun one. I'm not even going to GO into the details with that one (or maybe I will in another post because it does have some humor) but I remember after the drug haze cleared and I could walk without wanting to scream, I went into by hospital bathroom to see just what a post-birth baby body looks like. I was impressed to see that my waistline was already a bit slimmer. It should have been - an 8 1/2 pound baby and her residual fluids had just popped out- and I thought I would be "back to normal" in no time. I hopped (let's not kid ourselves, gingerly stepped) on a scale a week later and I was down 30 pounds- I didn't even need Bob or Jillian to do it! I thought that it was going to be a piece of cake. Since then, the weight has come off SLOWLY no thanks to me. I still eat like a cow and don't exercise at all except for sprinting to the bathroom so I don't pee my pants. That's a funny after affect of birth- apparently I have lost all ability to "hold it" when I really have to go. Thank goodness I wear sweats most of the time just in case. I actually tried P90 X for a bit and fully intend to get back to it once Tenley decides she would like to sleep for more than a 1/2 hour at a time. So, when she is in kindergarten I will get back to my fitness goals. I don't need Tony Horton yelling at me anyway...Tenley does a fine job of it already.
I notice now that when I am out in public, I am treated differently than before. I have to plan at least an extra 15 minute buffer into every errand or trip because of all the people that randomly stop me to admire my baby. That sounds incredibly coneited, but it's the truth and probably happens to every mom. It takes even longer because they ask me about her name and where it comes from and then I have to explain that no, I didn't get it from a family member or even an ice skater, I got it from a contestant on a morally appalling reality show and then have to deal with the looks of disbelief. So I liked the name Tenley and we got it from The Bachelor...suck it. I'm not naming your kid so why do you care? I am also treated differently by people in stores. I think that when I walk in somewhere with a baby, they think I must be looking for mom jeans and sweatshirts with cats on them. Seriously. For example, I went into Aldo a few weeks ago to find a new pare of black pumps. The ones I have been wearing for the last few years are from 5-7-9 and I thought, I'm a new, mature mom, I should have some new, mature, grown up shoes. When the 25 year old, 110 pound sales girl saw me, she led me towards the wall of flats and said, "Let me know if you have any questions" and smiled condescendingly. Like I'm not cool enough to wear the five inch platform heels I actually came for. I looked at her and said, "Excuse me, beyotch, I came for heels- what do you have?" Actually, that's what I said in my head. What I really said was, "Hahahaha, I'm looking for a new pair of black pumps" and continued to pull the amazing pair of shoes I had been eyeing 55 pregnant pounds ago off the wall. She looked a little surprised, but got them in my size and ten minutes later I had them in a bag and walked out of the store. I wore those shoes the other day and wished I could have gone back in there holding my baby wearing those shoes and said, "Hey remember me?" She totally would have said no, but who cares? It would have been dramatically awesome. I can't help it that the mind of a 25 year old such as hers is clouded with a haze of jello shots, skinny jeans, and working at Aldo. I can't wait until she has a baby and tries to cram herself back in her skinny jeans and 5 inch heels...I hope there is a sales girl to make her feel bad about it too.
There is really no point to this blog except to say that I am going to try to post more (I have some nice friends who actually encourage me to do so because they like to read it) and that things are pretty different since having my amazing daughter. But, all in all, I'm still the same old girl...just a few pounds heavier with a whole new set of responsibilities that are more important (to me) than choosing a bar to go to on Friday.
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