9 months on--9 months off?

124.
That is what I weighed the day I went to the doctor to find out i was with child. Over the past 18 months (18 months?!?) I have watched my weight reach heights I never imagined and then return to a relative state of normalcy after Austen made her exit.

Let me tell ya something. They say 9 months on, 9 months off--pssh. Let me clarify. Some things. Will. Never. Be. The. Same.

I will never forget mustering the courage to lift my shirt and inspect my inflated belly for the first time. I think I honestly expected to see Mother theresa or an old man face in the abundance of wrinkles that were surely there. Instead, I was pleasantly surprised. Thanks to my new milk-laden boobs, my waist looked surprisingly small. It took a few months for everything to settle into a new definition of normal.

My current weight is just a few pound shy of the number on the scale two Decembers ago. However, my jeans do not fit. My bras do not fit. I have a road map of stretch marks and varicose veins. The truth is....this is the new me. I have real hips now. A body that tells a story.

Now I am not going to sit here and type some mama mantra about how I love my body because it gave birth to my daughter. I am grateful that God provided me with a healthy vehicle to bring her into the world. However, I would not say that I love my newfound muffin top or the loss of the ablity to go bra-less. I can say, however, that I have reached a point of acceptance. This is what I have to work with. My husband likes it, it looks kinda cute dressed up, and it still carries Austen just about everywhere.

As with every single facet of my life, my body did not escape the effects of motherhood. And thats ok. :)

Guess what.

I am baby free!

Wait. Shouldn't I be doing something fabulous? Drinking red wine on some patio while reading a novel on my iPad. Or getting my hair done and meeting friends for lunch. Perhaps taking a hike with my husband before we go out to a fantastic dinner.

Well, folks. That is just not the scene I have going on here. As is a theme lately, Chad is at work. I have cleaned this house pretty thoroughly (whens the last time you soaked and scrubbed those little plates under your stove burners?). I took a nap. Made some pasta. Now what?

I find that my life has settled into a little groove...and I like it best when my husband and littlest girl are grooving with me. When they are gone, my first thought is--sleep! But once that is done I find myself a little lost. Because, quite frankly, anything thing i think to do seems worth saving to do with Chad. I guess thats why I married him. I really do love him with my whole entire heart.

As far as Austen is concerned, it is nice to leave the house without packing 8374928734 things. And letting my mom change diapers for awhile doesn't suck. But really, one day away is enough. Today she is one day closer to walking, running, growing up. Call me selfish, but i don't like sharing her.

I am going to go force myself to do something I could only enjoy alone (unfortunately shopping is not an option. Damn you, budget.). Ideas?

Ok, I admit it.

I have not loved motherhood the past few days. I love Austen. Lots and lots. However, her complete disregard for sleep has really begun to wear on me.

It occurred to me how far on this journey we have come when I ran into the worlds cutest pre go lady today on my walk. Ohmygosh. You should have seen her and her little basketball belly. When she said she had just 3 weeks left (yep. I stopped her and tried to make her be my best friend because she was that great) I seriously wanted to hug her an tell her to go home and take a nap. Because, I remember those days. When I would stretch a cute little tank top over my swollen bump and walk the dog so people could see me in my motherly glory (or, seeing how Austen was born in august, in my motherly sweat). Tonight, I was walking the dog in the same leggings I wore yesterday while pushing my 9 month old all over the neighborhood attempting to wear her out. I felt my face get all red and stingy when I noticed her noticing the green beans smushed on my pants.

You guys know our issues with sleep. Add to that the fact that Chad has literally become a slave to the restaurant this week (shout out to Mindy Houston whose baby daddy has also been swept up the chaos...the end is near!) and that we are deep in the throws of the "mommy attached" stage and I find myself trying to rememeber the days when I thought I was as rested as I could ever be...bring on that baby! Well, how times have changed my friends. Because, this weekend Austen is going to Grammys and I, well, I am going to sleeeeeep. Bring on that wine, fluffy pillow, and uninterrupted showers!

Sometimes I feel guilty for needing a break but then my mom says awesome things to me like "you can only be her best mommy when you're rested and happy". And I want to kiss her on the face. Then I get kinda squishy thinking about how one day I can comfort Austen that way...and i love motherhood again! Ahhhhhh.

To my littlest girl.

The "letter to my baby" section of Austens baby book has been haunting me since I learned I was expecting. At first, I wanted to gather my thoughts. Then, as my pregnancy evolved I became intimidated by the idea of talking to this little person who I hoped would one day admire me and respect my every word. When she came, my heart was so swollen with love that it seemed I could no longer write anything, much less words that she may read in search of a summation of her mothers love.

Tonight, I went to see Liz because she was a little under the weather. We watched as our two babes "talked" and we talked about how it all goes so fast. I told her how I just want to memorize each moment (and you wonder why I tAke so many pictures). She told me I should write that down, in a poem or something. I thought about what she said and it occurred to me on the way home--if I don't write to her now, in the thick of all of these moments, I may not be able to put it into words later. The magnitude of being her mother is overwhelming, immensely rewarding and beyond my wildest dreams. So, tonight I will tuck this little poem in her baby book. I hope when she reAds it, she knows just how well I know her and who she was born to be.

Someday.
One day.
You will think I do not know you.
So I must,
I have to
Remember today.
Soggy cheerios betweeen amateur fingers.
Bare feet with bubble toes.
I cannot forget.
Your fearless spirit,
Your toothless grin
The wisps of hair on your velvet head.
I have counted
Those hairs,
These moments.
Someday.
One day.
You will no longer be my littlest girl.
So, I won't,
I will not
Forget today.
You are precisely who I knew you'd be.
Your joys,
Your gifts.
The angles of your face.
I have known it all.
All along.

I will remember today.
So you never forget.


Love, Mommy.