The Great Debate: TV Time

If you know me, you know I am a serial television addict. I live for my “stories”—my stories, however, are more Kardashian and less How the World Turns. If I had the chance, I could literally spend days (maybe weeks) watching TV.

Now, even though I’m an out-and-open television lover, I had strong feelings on not letting my child turn into a self-imposed TV zombie. I may cherish my reality TV shows now—but growing up, I (like most people my age) preferred playing outside or with my Barbie dolls more than sitting in front of the TV. Quite the difference from today’s X-BOX crazed four year olds.

I started my days as “mommy” as a diligent no television advocate. No screens, of any kind, whatsoever. Well, in today’s technology obsessed world—that proved darn near impossible. By six months, I was willing to let Lacey listen to an auto-read book on the iPad, play an app on my iPhone, and even sparingly watch a show or two on a particularly laundry-ridden day.

Now-a-days, I’m sad to say that my days of TV-silence have been replaced with the constant noise of “Disney Jr. On Demand.”  Few things make Lacey happier than hearing the theme song to Sofia the First blare out of the television. She’s gone from the no-screen-queen to Princess Sofia’s best friend and biggest fan. We have the soundtrack downloaded on my phone and the CD blaring in our car—and on particularly crabby car rides; it’s the only thing to get her to calm down.

Still, every time she squeals with delight when she sees the television switch on, I cringe on the inside. Doctors everywhere scream for “no screens before age 2”—stating that it causes children to have severe delays on language development, reading skills, and short-term memory. It’s even been related to sleep problems (and my little rarely-sleeps-through-the-night baby does not need any help in that department!). Once children reach age two, and their brain is somewhat more developed, educational television can prove beneficial— but for now, doctors everywhere are urging for babies to realize that life does not happen in the 2D form seen on their favorite shows.

Even knowing the facts, I can’t imagine going on a telly-vision hiatus anytime soon. I think in today’s world, it’s growing more and more difficult each day to keep your baby screen-clean for the first 24 months of his or her precious little life. I mean, I’m sorry, but that baby is going to spot you answering your phone from half-way across the house and want to get to the phone (and promptly stick it right in her drool-covered mouth) more than you’ve wanted anything in your whole entire life.

To the same extent, I do feel as though screens are being overused. In our house personally, television has begun to turn into a clutch. I see Lacey whip her head toward the television as we enter a room to check to see if it’s on—and it’s all I need to know that we are watching too much of the darn stuff. Therefore, I created a TV detox from 12-5 P.M. daily in our house. Sure, I love our morning cuddles as mommy drinks her much needed cup of coffee and watches Ellen (hey! She teaches good values, right!?). And I’m fine with the TV being on after dinnertime—so long as Lacey is playing with her toys while she watches. But for us, we need that mandatory five hour no-show zone each day. It may not seem like much—but it’s a start!

During our break between morning and evening nap, it’s so important for us to get out and do something! Whether that be errands, a walk, or a trip to the park (or better yet: a walk to the park!)—it’s vital to get outside and let your baby explore the real (3D!) world. I know that not everyone has the privilege of our gorgeous Florida winters—so don’t put these nice days to waste while they’re here—it’s going to be too effing hot again before we know it.

Also, decide as a family when you really want (or need!) television time. I absolutely refuse (for now) to be the parent who whips out my cell phone to distract my screaming infant while at a restaurant—but I know that I need (yes, need) it to entertain Lacey while I try to buckle our wiggly piggly into her car seat.

Like with all things in life, moderation is the key to the television conundrum. What do you think: do you live and die by the TV in your household? Or are you better off without it? What do you do to keep your little ones occupied if you need a quick break during the day? Leave a comment to let me know—I’d love the advice!

See you real soon,
Lacey’s mama

 

Your Daily Dose of Lace:

More than intrigued with her TV shows and Cheese Puffs.

 

Meeting her favorite Princess Sofia at Disney! So happy-- she still laughs whenever she sees this picture.

 

‘lkm0s  <<Lacey’s Daily Blog Post (Short and Sweet today!)

Identity Theft

Feeling like you’re beginning to lose—or have completely lost—your identity is a common truth among mothers. Suddenly, you’re not yourself anymore—instead, you’re the mother of your little one. No one even bothers to make eye contact with you in the grocery store—but everyone (literally everyone) will “ohh” and “ahh” over your sweet baby. Quite the culture shock from pregnancy, where everywhere you went all eyes were on you and that adorable growing baby bump. Remember those glorious days when strangers rushed ahead to open the door for you as you slowly waddled your way into the bank? Well, those days are long gone—only to be replaced with the image of a frantic mother, wearing little-to-no makeup, with her hair thrown up in a messy bun. It’s as if nobody dares cross acknowledge the woman with the crazy eyes as she (unsuccessfully) tries to remain cool, calm, and collected while attempting to push and pull her stroller through the all-too-heavy doors.

I’ll never forget the first time I realized just how much my life (and identity!) had changed. Lacey was a whole two days old and we were making what was to become our daily trip to the pediatrician to check on her jaundice levels. My husband and I were sitting in the waiting room, coo-ing over the world’s cutest newborn, when the check-in clerk called out for “Lacey’s mom or dad.”

I faltered for a second. Are they calling for me? Should I really go up there? Surely, this has to be some kind of mistake. I’m not a mom—I’m just me. Two days ago I was just clumsy, short on sleep, extremely pregnant Shannon… and now? Now I was a mom.

Sure, I had realized how extremely different my life would be when we saw that exciting “pregnant” on the little blue and white stick I’d just peed on. (FYI, Clearblue Easy Digital Pregnancy Tests are the way to go if you think you may be expecting your own bundle of joy. Who wants to deal with deciphering whether a line is really a line? Make it easy on yourself—go the digital route). I realized it again when Lacey was placed in to my arms for the first time ever in the delivery room-- and yet again when they knowingly let us leave the hospital with her a day later (Are you sure a nurse shouldn’t follow us home for a few days?).

But in that moment at the pediatrician’s office, I became a mom. And not just any mom… but Lacey’s mom. And my husband? The man I spent 8 years getting to know and love? He was no longer just “Ross” or my husband. He was Lacey’s dad. We were Lacey’s parents. What a crazy adventure we were embarking on together. As a family of three.

Recognizing your new found mommy or daddy-hood can seem overwhelming—especially for the stay-at-home parent who no longer has a work title to justify their day-to-day life. But rather than mourn the loss of your “old” identity, why not relish in your new one!? Sure, you may no longer be able to meet up at the local bar with your friends on any given night of the week—but who’s to say you can’t enjoy a well deserved glass of wine after you get the baby down for the night? And sure, Saturdays will no longer consist of sleeping in until noon—but I bet you’ll love waking up at 8 and snuggling in bed with your hubby and baby while watching Saturday morning cartoons even more.

It’s important to not feel isolated while you go through these new changes. Remember: you’re partner is changing as well. Talk about it. Communicate. You two are in for the experience of a lifetime and it’s going to be a much smoother ride if you remember that you’re in it together.

Finding ways to embrace the “new you” as a couple can be a fun challenge too. For us, we’ve always been big movie go-ers. On any given Saturday night, you could find us enjoying dinner at one of our favorite restaurants before heading off to see the latest blockbuster. And then came Lacey.  Now, you may not know this—but infants are generally not welcomed in movie theaters. Who knew!?Nothing ruins the latest thriller like a baby screaming his head off in the back row. So for us, Redbox and pizza night became our new best friend. And I have to say—I actually prefer it to going out for several reasons:

1.       You can turn the air down, the sound up, and snuggle under lots of covers in the comfort of your own couch or bed.

2.       Unless you’re a college student (or reliving your days as one) using a water bottle to smuggle your favorite “adult beverage” into the movie theatre (or perhaps you frequent one of those awesome dine-in move theaters like Studio Movie Grill in Scottsdale, Arizona) then you can’t really drink while at the movies.  But guess what? You can at home! And for like 1/100^th of the price. And if you accidentally have one too many (obviously assuming that one parent is not partaking in the alcohol consumption)? There’s no need to worry about how you’re going to safely get home—you just waltz your way right into your bedroom.

 

3.   And the very best reason? You can pause the movie if you need to use the restroom!! No need to hold it or chance missing an important scene when you're watching at home. As someone with an insanely small bladder (made even weaker by delivering my chunky baby girl) this reason alone is more than enough for me.

 

However, like most good solutions—problems may still arise. For us, it was needing to wait until movies came to DVD before seeing them. Totally fine under normal circumstances—but so not acceptable for certain movies. One movie that we were completely unable to wait to see was the newest Hunger Games: Catching Fire. Being remotely obsessed with these movies, we knew we had to find a way to see it as soon as possible. There would be no waiting for DVD release for this one!

We decided to welcome our new family status and turn this movie night in to an adventure—by hitting up the (not so local) drive in movie theater. It took weeks of planning, rescheduling several times due to a cranky baby, a 90 minute drive, and booking a hotel for the night but we were able to see a movie while it was still in the theater!  And I have to say, watching one of the best movies of all time in the comfort of my own car (in pajamas!) with my husband by my side, my daughter cuddled in my lap and gas station candy to get us through—is easily my favorite movie going moment of all time (with the exception of any and all Harry Potter Midnight Madnesses of course). Sure, seeing one movie cost us upwards of $100 but it was worth every penny.

So be creative. Have fun with your new identity. Embrace every moment of it. And if you still find yourself needing a night to let lose? Well, I’d be willing to bet that grandma and grandpa would be more than willing to babysit.

Do you have any fun ways to unwind as a family? Or by yourself? Leave a comment and let me know.

See you real soon,

Lacey’s mama

 

Your Daily Dose of Lace:

Relaxing in the hotel before going to see Catching Fire.

Sleeping on my lap at the drive in movie theater. So precious.

 

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<<Lacey’s Blog Post—she managed to paste the copied Bitcoin link! So skilled.

Weight For It

Oh, baby weight: so easy to gain. Near impossible to lose.

Ever since our beautiful 10 pound, 9 ounce baby came in to this world, people always say the same thing whenever they hold her: You must have some awesome arm muscles!

I suppose I do—but those muscles are not-so-conveniently hiding under the extra 30 40 pounds of post-pregnancy weight I’ve been luggin’ around since April.

See, when we first started talking about trying to get pregnant, I decided one thing: I would enjoy pregnancy to the fullest. Although I pray we are blessed with several more healthy pregnancies and beautiful babies—I know that’s not guaranteed.  Therefore, I wanted to make sure I reveled in all that pregnancy had to offer—from indulging in the midnight cravings to full on embracing the “pregnancy waddle.”

Well, like many people, my pregnancy was far from easy. I suffered from something called pubic symphysis—where my bones relaxed too much, resulting in the most unimaginable pain ever. Seriously, this pain was 1000x worse than the actual childbirth. I couldn’t roll over in bed, couldn’t get in the car, or even sit down in a chair without tears springing to my eyes. Coincidentally, this pain resulted in a very early pregnancy walk—I was waddling like a woman heading for the delivery room by four months (talk about embracing pregnancy pains!). And by 8 months, my doctor didn’t feel comfortable with me driving anymore (after my leg went numb while driving one day), and I was put on modified bed rest for the remainder of my pregnancy.

On top of that, around six months, I started to itch. Itch. So. Bad. All the effing time. It was winter at the time—so I chalked the itching up to my stretching skin and the cold (well, Florida cold) air. I was slathering on Cortisone lotion 24/7—I literally looked like a pink-version of an Avatar for the last 3 months of my pregnancy.

I was going through some changes with my midwife (my actual midwife—who I absolutely love and adore—was on maternity leave herself—and I was stuck with an awful replacement, who could have cared less about my “normal aches and pains.” Thank God my amazing original midwife returned in time to deliver our baby girl!) and never thought to bring up the itching at any of my appointments (lesson learned). Finally, a little over a week before my due date—and with scratch marks covering my body—my husband mentioned the itching at one of my bi-weekly appointments. I was seeing yet another midwife that day—and she took my itching seriously and decided to draw some blood just to make sure everything was okay.

Fast forward a week later, to Friday, April 5^th (one day before my due date and nowhere near going in to labor by myself), I received a frantic call from my midwife telling me I needed to get to the hospital to be induced—now. I will never forget the moment. I was sitting in the car at a stoplight with my mom and sister (who were in town waiting for Lacey’s arrival). Ross was at his new job in Daytona (it was his first week!)—an hour away from our hospital and unreachable by cell phone. I immediately started to cry and half-listened as the midwife explained that the itching was caused by cholestasis—basically meaning, pregnancy was causing my liver to shut down and if left-untreated caused a highly increased risk of a still born baby. Aka: we had to get baby girl out of my body.

Long story, short: we made it to the hospital to be induced early that evening, spent 36 hours in those awful hospital beds (or in an even-worse hospital chair—as was the case for Ross, my parents, and sister), and our wonderful and healthy, chunky monkey was born at 8:39 A.M. on Sunday, April 7^th.

My point to this story is—that between the pregnancy complications and the normal pregnancy cravings—I was seriously lacking on the working out but doing more than my share of partaking in the eating out. I mean, if stuffing my face was worthy of an Olympic Medal, I would have been getting at least a bronze. And before I knew it, I found myself in the car with my family, receiving the news of my imminent induction at a whopping 60 pounds heavier. Ick.

People are so wonderful to the diluted pregnant—assuring me I’d lose half of it before I even left the hospital—and the other half from breastfeeding. HAH! I quickly learned one thing-- pregnancy weight gain is just like pregnancies or new babies in one major weigh way: no two mommies will gain or lose weight the same. The lucky few do lose the weight before they check out of the hospital 48 hours later. Some struggle with those last 5 pounds for years. Yet others spend the rest of their lives feeling sub-conscious of their post-baby bodies.

For me, I lost 20 pounds while in the hospital (almost 11 of which was Lacey herself). Over the next six months, I “semi-dieted” my way down another 20 pounds. The holidays came and went, and I managed to gain back 5 pounds. Boohoo.

After our return from our Christmas in Phoenix, I promised myself to become refocused and lose these last 30 pounds once and for all. I mean, my sister’s getting married in May and I refuse to be flaunting a post-baby body in a bridesmaid’s dress (especially since my “baby” won’t even technically be a baby by then!). In the past 3 and a half weeks, I’ve managed to lose exactly 9 whole pounds!  Sadly, I don’t see a difference yet—but boy do I love stepping on that scale each morning and seeing those numbers drop.

Over the next several months, I’ll be sure to check in often with my weight loss journey. I know it’s going to get tougher—but if I can do it, you can too! Here’s to a bikini (okay, maybe a tankini) body by summer! ;)

Are you on a mission to lose weight yourself? Have any secrets to your post-baby weight loss success? Leave a comment and let me know!

See you real soon,

Lacey’s mama

Your Daily Dose of Lace: our 10 pound, 9 ounces bundle of joy

 

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