Ain't No Shame

I'd like to start a "Frankly Friday" segment. Or "Shameless Saturday". Or "Keepin' it Real <fill in the day of the week>" as I've heard on other blogs out there. This would be a time where I share things that I should consider embarrassing, but I just can't help but confess. Let the judgement begin.

1. Sometimes I want to put Oliver on a back pack leash.

No, I do not know that kid. And yes, I did google images for kids in back pack leashes. This is one of those things, that, until you're a parent, you just don't understand why they are invented. "Children are not dogs," they say. Oh yeah? Why do they run away like one then? How about you chase your 14 month old around downtown Birmingham on a Friday night because he refuses to stay in his stroller and doesn't want you to hold him and you might be singing a different tune. That's the moment you realize "Hey, a plush teddy bear harness leash would sure be awesome right now." Fear of the judgment from the childless gets the best of you and so you tuck that desire away...until your next outting. Say what you will, but those things were made for a reason. And hey, at least they're cute??

2. I still watch Glee. And I cried at last night's episode.

Some of you will say, "Katie, why are you embarrassed of this? That's not so bad." But then you must remember I'm a 28, almost 29 year old adult woman who is still watching a teen dramedy. And I don't even actually like it anymore. That's the embarrassing part. But for some reason I can't stop watching it.  I pretty much dislike most of the storylines now, they've gotten far too agenda-y for my taste, the new characters are kinda lame, the songs aren't as good (bring back the show tunes!), and HEY IT'S FOR 14 YEAR OLDS. It's like I'm afraid I'm going to miss something if I stop watching it. A TV show. That I don't even like. Insanity. And then I go and watch last night's episode, The Quarterback. An episode in which everyone bid farewell to the late Cory Monteith (aka Finn Hudson) and I wept like a small child. And need I repeat, I DON'T EVEN LIKE THE SHOW ANYMORE. Didn't stop me from watching it and crying like the pathetic little tween girl I am. Lame-o. Though I do have to admit, if you didn't cry at some point during that episode, your heart must be made of stone. Talk about a tear jerker. #andthatsnotthefirsttimeicriedwatchingglee #movingon

3. If I could, I would eat Cinnamon Toast Crunch everyday of my life.

Or any other delicious, sugary cereal. I love cereal. I practically lived off of it for a good portion of my childhood. However, I never buy it now as a responsible wife/mother/adult and do you know why? BECAUSE ALL I WANT IS THE TERRIBLE STUFF. Lucky Charms? Count Chocula? Cap'n Crunch? Yes please. Kashi-Go-Lean-I-Taste-Like-Cardboard-Crunch? PAAAAAAAAAASS. I do, however, like Raisin Bran, but I'm sure it has to be terrible for you in some way because rarely do I like something that isn't. So instead I just stick with my half a bagel (which isn't that great...I just love carbs...more on that later) and a banana for breakfast. Bor-ing, but at least the dia-beetus isn't calling my name...yet.

That's all for this week. Tune in next week when I'll probably forget to post more embarrassing shameless things. Forgive me in advance. 

Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants

Im an infrequent blogger. Sue me. I just tend to write when I feel compelled to do so. I have a couple of ideas floating about in my cranium for some posts, so bare (or is it bear...I digress) with me as you might get a blog overload here soon. 

Becoming a mom changes you. It changes you mentally (mom brain is real, people), emotionally (I can cry much easier now...boo), spiritually (Oh, let me count the ways), and last, but not least physically. This last one has probably been the hardest for me to grasp. 

You'll recall in an earlier post I lamented about my new body and the shame and embarrassment I felt over it. Feeling embarrassed to go to events with my husband because I was ashamed of the new body God had given me. Lies, lies, lies. I am here today to tell you that the old saying, "It gets better" is actually true.  

Just the other day I was feeling bummed because I LITERALLY had no jeans in our home that I could wear. None. That weren't maternity (and we are not there yet, folks). I had no clothes that fit last fall/winter (which is basically the same season in Alabama), especially jeans. I was far too depressed to purchase any in the size the stores SAID I wore (liars) so I protested and refused to buy any. Mature, I know. But I decided to suck it up and go look for some dang pants.  Worse case, I would leave depressed and I could go get some yogurt after (because it helps. Trust me.). None of that was needed, friends. I found not one, but TWO pairs of jeans that fit great AND were in a size I could deal with. Were they the same size I used to wear? Um, doubtful. But they fit, and fit well.

**On a complete side note, the more I shop for jeans, the more I realize I literally cannot wear cheap denim. Call me a denim snob, but I end up wasting my money at Old Navy or Target only to have a diaper butt or muffin top after about 5 minutes. However, my love and desire for expensive denim is hindered by my wicked tight budget. BUT FEAR NOT! For that is what Nordstrom Rack is for. Designer jeans at half the price? Yes, please. I could write an entire post about jeans...don't get me started.**

Let me back up and state that I have been taking care of myself in order to find these magic traveling pants of wonder. I work out 4-5 days a week (and in mom world, that's a lot, people) and I've set up a routine so that I HAVE to go. And the truth is, I enjoy it. O gets a break from me and gets a chance to develop some social skills and I get to burn some calories. It's a win/win. It's a nice, and welcomed, break in the day. I don't say all this to make myself look awesome. Im not at all. I'm simply saying that me being comfortable and confident with me has taken work. I still have the pallet of a five year old when it comes to the foods I love, but I'm working on it. And truth is I have to eat better because I'm forcing my child to eat well. Talk about accountability. 

I know everyone who has seen me for the past year has thought, "Hey she has a cute kid and husband, but she looks borderline homeless most of the time." I'm working my way out of homeless status, friends. I have come to grips with the fact that no matter how hard I work, my body may never be the same as it was BC (before children ;) ). My hips are wider, things aren't quite as perky as they once were, but that's ok. I know my worth does not rest in physical appearance, but The Lord does call us to take care of ourselves. That's a fact, Jack. Will I ever get rid of my pre-Ollie jeans? Probably not. I like to hold on to the ghost because, hey, ya never know...

Meanwhile...how cute is he?