Wow, I can't believe it has been so long since I last wrote.  I guess I wanted to keep Lily's birthday video up as long as possible!  I hope you enjoyed it.  Her birthday party was amazing... fit for a princess with lots of friends and family to help her celebrate.  There will be pictures coming.  I promise!

Since then things have been crazy around here.  There were the 1 and 5 year old appointments to be had for both kiddos.  And we've all been sick.  Tuesday was actually the first day in a week and a half that everyone was back at daycare/school/work!

On top of it all I've been working, working, and working some more.  And so... the blog and sadly Weight Watchers in general has been a little a lot neglected.  I'm lucky that I'm holding steady, but I've been around the same 2 pounds - still 20 pounds to go back to goal - now for pretty much the entire summer.  I need to break on through, and at the risk of sounding like I'm making excuses, I just can't seem to make it happen right now with all the extra "stuff" going on.  Weight Watchers before Lily, and Weight Watchers after Lily is sure a different experience. 

Initially I was so "not OK" with that.  I was angry with my results.  But I've come to accept that this is a different journey than it was before, and this time it is going to take me longer, and so I've made peace with that fact, even if I still feel frustrated at times.

Next week, I am off to North Carolina again for appointments with Lily - similar to what we did back in April.  Lily and I will be taking a little vacation after the appointments to the beach.  We are so ready for a break, and some time in the sand and sun.

My vacation plan is to simple and something that CWWL (Crazy Weight Watchers Leader if you need a reminder) taught me.  If you are simply replacing a "normal" meal that you'd eat, eat like you would at home.  If it's a celebration, than take the time to eat what you enjoy.  I think that's amazing advice for a balanced life!

It has been a rough few days in our household.  Lily is in the throes of teething, and simultaneously she managed to get a nasty cold.  She is basically a snot factory, and her bark of a cough reminds me of the crabbiest seal at the zoo.  As if that all was not enough she is also having reflux flares, which is normal for her while sick, and I think the teething certainly isn't helping things.  Poor girl was thisclose to 15 pounds, and now she hasn't eaten or drunk much, and I don't even want to know what she weighs as I'm sure it is NOT good news!

So in my stress over my baby's angst I took it upon myself to make cookies.  NOT,  A.  GOOD.  IDEA. 



Not just any cookies - I had to find something no bake since it was 90+ degrees with tropic of cancer type humidity out.  So I picked a no bake cookie.  I bet you know the one... butter, gobs of sugar, peanut butter, some more sugar, melted until gooey, and then stir in oatmeal at the end to make sure you have decreased guilt + fiber while eating it.  I made them, let them sit for a few minutes until they were barely set and started eating them. 

I promised myself I would stop at 2--max.

I'm guessing you know how this works.  I ate one, and then another one.  Then had a beer, then had Chinese food for dinner, and then had another one for dessert. 

Then more horribleness, as Lily was eating dinner she took one bite of food and proceeded to vomit out both her nose and mouth simultaneously while eliciting a high pitched scream from the very depths of her being. After a hose down of our entire kitchen - oh didn't I tell you, we just decided to put a drain in the middle (joking... for now) - and an impromptu bath, I was exhausted - beat down.

So, I started eating cookies again.  It was then that I stopped myself and said - this doesn't have to end all that bad.  I can stop here, and be done.  Go to bed and be done.  Tomorrow is a new day.  But instead I found myself eating tiny bites of cookie instead of whole ones, because every knows it doesn't count if you eat it in small bits that you pick off at separate times.

I kept the cycle going:  walk over to kitchen, break a small bite off, shove in mouth, sit down, and repeat for 2 hours last night.  My guess is that I ate my way through probably 4 more cookies, but honestly it could be more... unlikely less... as I sort of zoned out in the process.

Guess what?  It didn't work.  Lily was still up at least half the night, and now her bark is worse than ever. 

Why I ever thought that eating delicious cookies would solve my daughter's teething and sickies is beyond me.  So I sit here now, disgusted with myself for basically ruining my week.  Of course, I know what I was looking for.  It's what I always seem to be looking for when I start to over indulge on sweets - I did it last year incessantly during my pregnancy - this time was really no different.  I'm looking for comfort, for an escape from the stress, from the pain.

I just wish I'd remember next time that it NEVER helps... the stress and pain are still there, and I'm a few pounds heavier instead of feeling a load lightened.

Time flies when you are having fun busy as all get out!

Today is National Prematurity Awareness Day.
The Empire State Building is lit in purple tonight in honor of it.

Just over 4 years ago, I knew nothing about premature birth.  The thought of it never even crossed my mind.  I didn't realize it could happen to me, and then on August 9th, 2007 I became suddenly and unexpectedly aware of premature birth, when my own little preemie entered the world at 3 pounds 4 oz and 16.5 inches long.  He was born too early, because I developed HELLP syndrome - a very severe form of preeclampsia.  The only way to save me and him was for him to enter the world... early!

27 hard, and yet precious days in the NICU followed.  I can honestly say that I still remember two of the nurses there distinctly - Debbie and Amy.  I will never be able to express to them how much they did for our family during those 27 days. 

I remember the day we brought him home.  I remember being terrified that this preemie was now living in my home with me.  We had a year of RSV shots, avoiding other people, and being scared at every little symptom.

I still walk into a hospital and can smell that distinct, antiseptic soap smell.  It's all it takes for the memories of isolettes and NG tubes to come racing back.

Today... thanks to modern medicine my preemie is a 36 pound, 4 year old.  He is in the 50th percentile for weight, and the 70th for height.  He wasn't even on the charts until he was 2.  He is smart, and fun, and social.  He loves computers, scrambled eggs, and music.  He can be sassy and sweet within the same 10 minutes, and sometimes he stands in the middle of my living room and poops his pants on purpose... I'd say he is a normal 4 year old boy... wouldn't you?  He bounced back from his early start... and then some!

Baby "L" saved me from a life of obesity.  It is because of my preemie that I decided I finally had to do something about my weight.  It makes me almost teary-eyed when he now shows pride that I'm his mommy.

"L" 1 day old

"L" 1 year old

"L" - 2 years old

"L" - 3 years old

"L" - 4 years old

Don't be a fool like me and think it can't happen to you.  1 in 8 babies are born too soon.  Prematurity is the number one killer of newborns!  I support the March of Dimes, as they try to lower these statistics.

Yes... you all know that Lily is a miracle, but my first born is also a miracle!  And he was even tinier than she was!  I am the luckiest mom in the world to be the mother of 2 miracles! 

I've been hit fairly hard in the past week with what I'll refer to as nesting.  As much as I'd like to fight it, and as tired as I'm feeling, I have this insane urge to clean and organize... and not really things that NEED to be cleaned and organized - i.e. those in plain view - but instead cupboards and basements, and other areas that are out of view.  I've also been a bit freaked out about not really "being ready" for this baby.  Now, I'm not sure what "being ready" even means.  I've asked Dr. P what I should prepare for as far as bringing a baby home or not, and she kind of just shakes her head and tells me she doesn't have a good answer. 
I'm stuck in that stupid place of limbo, where I can't plan once again.  I guess this baby will have a place to sleep at least, and we have some blankets from "L" and probably a week's worth of newborn clothes.  Diapers can always be purchased as needed at the last minute, right?  I still have to dig my breast pump out of the basement somewhere, but I'll find that soon... I hope.  I don't want to plan too much, because the thought of having to deal with the aftermath if something horrible happens - which in all honesty is really still the more statistically significant scenario (although long ago I decided that I don't do statistics) - is too much for me.  At the same time, I don't want to plan too little either, otherwise I'll be stuck without some basic things we need.  Sorry... but all of this really just downright sucks - how poetic, I know, but I can't think of better words right now.

Sunday was no exception to the nesting bug.  I found myself rather suddenly in the mist of cleaning out the corner cupboard in our kitchen.  This is a cupboard that I'll lovingly refer to as a "junk cupboard".  Yes... I have a junk drawer too.  I guess I just have a lot of junk.  If we are actually going to eventually bring a baby home to live here, I need more space for things like bottles and breast milk containers.  So it before increasingly clear to me that I needed to clean the junk cupboard - STAT!

As I sat in the middle of the hard floor 7 months pregnant, I started thinking about the inevitable mess that this new baby would bring upon our house.  We have trucks and trains and books and games already piled high in our living room.  I closed my eyes for a minute and envisioned dolls and little strollers and Polly pockets and whatever else little girls play with - please excuse this mom of a boy's inadequacy in this area.  I envisioned what a giant mess it would all be trying to contain the "needs" of 2 children of opposite sexes, born 4 years apart.  A mandatory trip to IKEA jumped into my mind for a minute, and then you know what?  I felt a huge smile come over my face.

All I could manage to think in that moment was - BRING ON THE MESS!  I'd love to blessed by the messes this baby might bring.  Lord knows she has brought enough "mess" into our otherwise somewhat formerly orderly lives already!