Thinking about myself

I had company this week... Becca, Joe's childhood dog (who lives with his parents.)  The in-laws were visiting their 4th new grandchild in Atlanta so she came to stay with us.  Becca is a lab mix who is 14 years old.  She's a character!  I get followed from room to room if I leave the living room/kitchen space.  She didn't seem to mind Benjamin but if he got to crying loud (not just the usual grunt grunt sounds) then she did start to look at him funny.  Made me wonder what life will be like with two children when we get there... Becca's a piece of cake compared to a toddler.  Let's cross one bridge at a time!

Anyway... thinking about myself. 
Ug, I desperately don't want to look pregnant.  I want to put all my maternity clothes in storage.  But- this would be stupid since they're over half the clothing that fits me.  I spent hours in our closet trying to find that magical piece of clothing that will suck in my tummy and make me feel perfect.  Now I understand that there's some weight that had be put on in order to make sure that the pregnancy went smoothly.  I'm actually pretty proud that for the first time around and not really cutting out too much junk (read "I had chocolate shakes every chance I got") I'm only left with 20lbs to lose.  I was hoping that breastfeeding would help take some more off with it supposedly taking an extra 400-500 calories a day, but I've evened out at a number that I won't mention here :) Now usually I would go shopping, realize that things aren't fitting like I want, go home and cry about it and then figure out a, usually drastic, plan of action.  This time is a little different, with breastfeeding I have to be careful to really get the extra that I need and the water that I need (more on that in future blogs).  This all requires more moderation which is always very good but very hard.
This week really has felt like a turning point for me.  I'll admit I was scared to leave the house with Ben in case he would get hungry and cry in front of other people and then I'd be all embarassed.  I know... silly.  This also goes along with the fact that I don't want to breastfeed in public, it's another bridge that I'm not ready to cross yet for a couple reasons.  Well this week I've sorta figured out how to get a good feeding in before we leave the house so that I have 3 hours of a happy, mostly sleeping baby.  To leave the house I have to go through a process: get his clothes set out, get myself ready to go, wake him up and feed him well- meaning keeping him from falling asleep half way through- then getting him ready and all the gear we need to leave the house.  It's alot of work, but to get out, it's worth it!
(Now, of course, as soon as I say that I have something figured out it will come back to bite me in the butt!)

Sad end of game for the Irish... maybe next time. :(