But I Don't Like Cereal, Mommy!

What are we going to do, Mommy?

I like the new plastic bib you got for me, Mommy.

What is this nasty stuff? Why are you doing this to me, Mommy? I want my bottle. Waaaaaaaa....

Such was our first attempt with cereal the other night. Poor little dear. We skipped it last night because we were at Auntie's and I hadn't taken any cereal with us. But we tried it again tonight, and although she still wasn't crazy about it, she was a little more open to it. She sure does watch me intently while I eat, so I think it's just a matter of time before she enjoys her cereal.

Hello, Pre-pregnancy Wardrobe!

I have lost nearly all of the fifty pounds I gained while pregnant with Michaela!

I honestly did not think this was doable in such a short period of time, and I did absolutely nothing to make it happen. My plans for walking on a daily basis, and trying something like Nutrisystem were unnecessary. The weight just dropped off on its own. As my sister pointed out, I had a couple of things stacked against me - my age, and the fact that I wasn't able to breastfeed. Doesn't seem to have mattered though.

The last couple of months, I have been wearing size 10 pants as they were the largest size in my closet. I had gained weight back in 2009 during and after our first IVF, and I had invested in a few pairs of that size back then. Good thing I didn't get rid of them when I started to lose weight while Michael was sick. Over this summer, I even supplemented the few items of what I had with some things I was able to find on the clearance racks at Loft. I was fine with that, and I figured that if I plateaued at size 10 for a while, I could live with that.

But, this morning I weighed in and was surprised to see that I now weigh what I did on my wedding day. I weighed myself twice because I couldn't believe it. Then I went to my closet and pulled out a pair of size 8 pants. I fully expected that they would be tight, but they fit perfectly! I am giddy just thinking about all the pants I have to choose from this week.

After Michael went Home, I was pretty stressed out and I dropped nearly ten pounds, so I have some size 6 pants in the closet, too. Only time will tell if I will be able to fit into them. It's not something I am going to work towards, but it would be nice. I'm certainly not as skinny as I was when I met Michael. I think I was a size 2 back then, but I have no desire to be that thin again. I'm just pleased to be wearing the things I already own. It's been quite a while, and so they all seem new again!

Work Stress = Grief

Sometimes I feel like I have a target on me at school. Mind you, I'm not unhappy at my new school. In fact, there are many good things about it, but something happened this week that was really hurtful and it's not entirely resolved yet. I just don't understand the contentiousness that some people bring to the table when dealing with their child's teacher. And I don't understand why it's not more obvious that so many things about public education are not in the teacher's control. I feel like a foot soldier who takes orders from commanding officers most of the time. The autonomy I once enjoyed about my job that allowed me to make decisions about how to deliver instruction and manage my classroom is almost non-existent now.

I was reduced to tears yesterday as I felt that I was being unfairly criticized and unsupported. After the last couple of years, I really need to have a school year in which I can feel successful and valued once again. That, or I need to win the lottery or find another profession.

Anyway, not having Michael to come home to and be my safe place just made my grief feel "newish" again. I longed to share my troubles with him and have him embrace me in his strong arms. But that's not going to happen at the end of a hard day, and that really sucks. I have great family support and lots of friends who love me and encourage me, but nothing compares to the love of your life sharing your burdens with you.

I was easily agitated when Buffy wanted out and then wouldn't come in the house at 11:30 last night (waking me up and robbing me of the little sleep I do get), and I had an angry cry over that. Then more tears on the way to work this morning as I felt like too much rests on my shoulders. I even threw a temper tantrum at God. Which is really stupid, and I even though I blame that on sleep deprivation, I have repented. Being angry at God is counterproductive and immature. He never changes. He's good all the time, and I need to seek Him when I'm troubled and persecuted.

I just hope and pray that this school year will be a peaceful one. Last year was just awful, and I'm not up for that kind of drama in my life.