Thursday, March 27, 2008

Skinny On the Inside

I have been having serious weight issues, more mental than anything else though. I have 'psychoanalysed' myself and I realise that I have been spoiled by the fact that I have never had to actually struggle with weight loss, fat, or any of that for that matter. In the good old days, I would basically just cut out bread or rice for two weeks and 'Bam!', enter 'the hotness'.
But after monkeyboy, um, not so much. I have basically only lost 25 pounds in two months. The other problem is well, I gained 43 lbs instead of the 25 I had gained with Numero Uno. Now who's bright idea was that one? I kinda got cocky I think, and now I am paying for it. In spades.

The weird thing is that I still feel skinny on the inside. Like when I tried to fit into my black velvet, soft like butter, size 4 'alice & olivia' skinny pants, I was momentarily confused when they wouldn't go past my thighs. Sigh. I don't get it. I have been kicked out of the 'skinny bitches club' and I stand here, nose smushed on window pane, wistfully looking in. "I wanna play too!" Yes, I do have the flair for the dramatic, don't I? But then I look down at monkeyboy, who is almost always inevitably cradled in my arms, and you know what? It's worth it. And you can take that to the bank.
the matronly prada principal

Thursday, March 20, 2008

Brava! (Escape from Alcatraz)

At least that's how I felt when my friend (who is visiting from the U.K) and I were finally able to coordinate a girls night out. Finally. Ah, Sweet Freedom. No burps nor bibs, no mess, no kids. No nursing bras - can I get an Amen, someone? Just me, my girl, subdued lighting, animated conversation and delish Sangria. I really don't need much to feel human. Plus I clean up pretty nice, if I do say so myself. (Hic) :-)

Monday, March 17, 2008


We were out yesterday, my number 1 son and I, on one of his 'weekend engagements'. This two year old has a more active social calendar than me, I kid you not. But this is only because I am pathetic that way. My girlfriend and I had made plans to go hang out for a little bit in the evening, but after one hour at 'Playwise Kids', it was clear that I was fading fast. Now I see why they say you should have kids early. I am ashamed to admit that we did not hang out - we stayed home and watched 'The incredibles' while drinking rum and cranberry juice. Pathetic, I know. But sometimes you only have enough energy to live for and through your kids. As in if they partied, you partied. If they had a good day, this means you did too. Which brings me to a little girl we met at the party, whom we shall call 'princess'. Princess was all too cute in her white sequined leggings and black velvet 'cheerleaderesque' dress. So cute, I almost took a picture of her myself. But she was so mean, rough and bossy! Yelling and pushing and pointing her finger in my poor little guys face. He kept turning to me with tears in his eyes saying "Mama, she's pushing!'. I knew he wanted to push back and I must admit, I ached for him. But he didn't. Cos 'his mama taught him better than that'. Ooh, Mama proud y'all, mama proud. :) but I totally know how it is for the shoe to be on the other foot, believe me. I have had to reel him in plenty a time, in plenty of situations. But just not this time. So I am taking a bow. Good job, Mama!

Thursday, March 6, 2008

Butt Cream and Return of the Nanny

I was on here extolling the virtues of the crabtree and evelyn baby cream in my last post, right? So I have been slathering Monkeyboy in it, literally like from head to toe. and his rash just seemed to miraculously dry up and disappear. Well, I decided to actually read the packaging and I find to my dismay that the instructions say to apply as needed to help prevent' diaper rash'. Yes people. Yours truly has been smothering her baby in 'butt cream', fine and shishi poopoo as it may be. I find this hysterically funny and I'm like, no one wonder it worked so fabulously. MB's face had no clue what hit it! lol. Hey, whatever works right?

Houston, we have a nanny! Yah Man. She's from Jamaica, so excuse me if I lapse into 'patois' now and again. I have this annoying habit of absorbing new accents, mannerisms etc, that 'tickle my fancy'. It's just a thing that I do, but I get over it pretty quickly. Ms. Carmen and fabulous and cool and all good beans and gravy except for one minor detail. Numero Uno Son hates her guts. Now I know it's just a two year old acting out, cos he misses his "Aunt Wida", but he sure does say the meanest things. Like, "Go away!". "Don't touch me/it/my arm!". Just beastly, I tell you. My heart goes out to her and I pray every night that she's still there when I wake up, because I would have packed my bags and quit by now if I were her.

Well, gotta go do the nursing thing. We'll dialog later,