With a sleeping baby (hello “Sleep Pillow” iPhone app – white noise is the answer, at least for tonight) before 7:30 p.m. – in jammies, in her own bed – I opted to make myself a tasty dinner.
I’ve been really REALLY trying to watch what I eat – not just watch it flow past my lips and onto my thighs, but making smarter choices before that taste hits my lips. And, so far, I’ve been doing pretty darn good. The scale shows me down about 4-5 pounds depending on the time of day, so I feel pretty solid about that, too.
I made myself whole grain linguine (and just one portion, not my usual 18 1/2 for me and my thighs and mid-section) with shrimp scampi (got conned into that one on a Saturday sample-day at Sam’s Club), a Caesar salad with a few grilled chicken strips and some Italian dressing. And oh, there it is, in the shadow, in front of the books on the coffee table, a big glass of Red Wine.
I lit a candle.
I turned on the TV to PBS, to Antiques Roadshow. (helllooo guilty pleasure-normally I fall asleep to the first five minutes of it on the iPad in bed).
I sipped my wine, I twirled pasta on my fork.
I enjoyed that all the toys were put away, that there was a candle burning, that the dishwasher was running, that my baby was sleeping – SLEEPING! – and I was enjoying a relatively healthy meal in a NORMAL manner.
I even laid on the couch and for a split second thought ‘this must have been what I felt like BEFORE I had a baby’.
And, whatever you might think of me…
I felt like I was firing on all cylinders today.
I spent some time thinking long and hard about a new approach to swim class. And, I found it in our trusty stroller.
I simply loaded up our swim bag, the stroller and Elle (ok, wrapped in a Snuggie, because I forgot a blanket – I lied about firing on all cylinders – maybe like 5 of 6 or something.
Anyway, Elle, the stroller, the swim bag and the Snuggie and I make our way into the Y.
I ask if there’s an elevator that goes to the women’s locker room (there’s got to be one, right) and the directions resemble something akin to pointing west and saying ‘GOLD!’. So, yeah, didn’t find the elevator and didn’t want to waste time, so I just picked up the stroller (yea for lightweight Baby Jogger strollers!) and walked down the two flights of stairs to the women’s locker room.
And I wasn’t even winded. (Not exercising and watching what I eat have me in great shape ALREADY!).
I chose to bring the stroller, because I was honestly kind of grossed out about the floor of the locker room last week. So, I figured that I could load up warm fluffy towels in the stroller, I could load the stroller up with a bottle, a binky and my own flip flops and camera, and I would have a nice little carryall.
Elle ROCKED swim class this week – despite that turd of a teacher being back.
I actually kind of want to punch the kid in the face, but I’m not very violent, so I won’t.
He began our interlude today with, “Well, we’ll see if she likes the water any better this time,”
And my cool response was, “Do NOT fire water at her face this time and we should be ok.”
Sheepishly, he replied, “Yeah, that wasn’t a very good idea.”
I feel like he may be trainable some day in that he can recognize his foul behavior.
Ok, I know I’m just being a bitch now, but seriously, mr-junior-in-high-school you’ve never even INTRODUCED yourself and you can NOT remember the words to songs that you are singing THREE nights a week. I can’t handle you, but I want my daughter to love the water, so I put up with you.
It is a great character flaw of mine that I believe that myself or my brother can most certainly teach small babies how to swim better than, well, at least this guy. I have a tendency to believe that, in general, I can do a lot of things better than others — I recognize this as a flaw, so at least there’s that.But this kid, this kid is just – complacent and dweeby and doesn’t think he is – he thinks he’s the SHIT because he teaches Baby Swim at the YMCA. (Ok, rant, over.)
Anyway, swim class was a raging success. We got there and into the pool AT 5:02 p.m., and we swam and opted out of the final five minutes of ‘free swim’ and instead we made a beeline for the locker room, Elle in her stroller under a pile of warm towels.
While she chilled out and had a bottle (which I expertly propped beneath a duck robe), I quickly changed into dry clothes and hoped that she wouldn’t melt down before I could get myself put back together.
Got her dried off and clothed, etc., and headed for the car. Fed her the rest of the bottle in the car and then headed toward home.
Managed to get in some FaceTime (yeah, new iPhone) with Jon and got a tour of the place he’s staying over in South Haven. FaceTime is so cool – I know, I’m late to the party.
I got the bottles washed, the kitchen cleaned, even fed Elle some extra cereal to try to help her sleep (that’s my Dad’s idea and I’m entertaining all ideas that end in more sleep for the mom). I gave her a bath, picked up then made myself a dinner that wasn’t totally frozen to begin with.
Anyway – firing on 5 of 6 cylinders, while I wrote this diatribe (is that even the right word?!) Elle woke up again. I gave myself four – now three – more minutes to have this post done and up and getting myself into bed.
But man, tonight felt good – and so did that glass of wine!