Mystic Pizza

Update on Stryker: Blocked Tear Ducts. (Thank you Charla for the extra push to call the doctor!)

Whew. I was so worried it was Pink Eye or Infant Blindness, which I don't even know if that's a real medical term, but it is so easy to imagine the worst!

Thankfully I have an amazing Pediatrician who can calm the storm. Granted he's like 80 and is a total advocate for woman nursing until the children are like five, or as he says, can climb up into a tree and get the banana down themselves. Whatever that means...... But still. We love him.

And I have a cut off date. I need my life back eventually. And my body. Usually just in time to get pregnant again.... But still.

He took one look at Stryker and said, "Oh yea, we've just got some blocked tear ducts."

And I breathed a sigh of relief.

It's amazing all of the new problems with every child. I know I mentioned this yesterday, but it really is like starting over with each one.

Stella didn't spit up. Or have jaundice. Or do anything except give me issues with nursing. She was so easy, but so hard at the same time because she was our first.

With Scarlett we had our first and only hospital stay and jaundice and the beginning of a child that would mildly spit up. She also didn't sleep through the night forever!

And then Stryker comes along with blocked tear ducts and projectile spit up. Like gallons of spit up that launch a good three feet from the child and a penis. He's a boy. And he has man parts. And I don't really know what to do with that.

So anyways, this is a journey about starting over apparently. If I have another child, then it will be the same thing with them. Relearning how to be a parent at the same time learning the first time how to be a parent to the stage my other ones are going through at that time.

Geesh. It never ends.

And I don't think its supposed to.

I need to start a diet. Random thought....

Its official. I'm no longer pregnant, going on two weeks and so I should stop eating whatever I want.

As it turns out, the New Mom of Three's Diet consists of pizza.

Frozen. Take out. Pick Up. Delivery. Whatever. We've been eating a lot of pizza around here.

And don't get me wrong, I love it. I love pizza. And most of the time it was graciously given to us by a family member. Like last night, when My Mother generously brought over Old Chicago for us.

It was amazing. And delicious. And awesome because Zach was out bowling, and so then I didn't have to make dinner.

I haven't really made dinner since before Stryker was born. Even the night before we went to the hospital, Zach and I had a frozen pizza for dinner.

And pretty much every night since then.

And sometimes for lunch.

It's awful.

Especially since I'm no longer an advocate for processed/preservatived food.

Right now I'm being a hypocrite.

And not losing weight.

So back to the real world and dieting and eating right and working out. Well, not working out yet, but I suppose once I get the go ahead from the doctor, I will have to start working out again.

Which will just be so much fun. Trust me....

I'm sure Tom will really appreciate the Biggest Loser DVD's being exercised to above his head. I better warn him though first. Just so he doesn't go into panic-its-the-end-of-the-world-find-shelter-mode every time Bob and I decide to work it out!

This all sounds exhausting. Ugh. And the worst part is all of the showers involved! I can't afford a shower every day, time management speaking....

Ok, I'll stop complaining.

I just need to start talking about it early, so I can mentally prepare myself for the upcoming months of getting back in shape and torture.

Maybe I'll do something fun this time. I've heard good things about Zumba.

Although I'm a little nervous to try it because I feel like its all dancing and this white girl and product of a high school that was absolutely anti-dancing has no rhythm.

One time, when we had Direct TV and had actual work out channels, I tried Belly Dancing and trust me for the sake of the universe and my own posterity, I will never. Ever. Ever. Try that again.


I can't move. I'm not genetically inclined.

I've half been considering Weight Watchers this time through. Since we've already made the switch to better eating. Minus all of the frozen pizza of late.

But I can't do it. Something about the system turns me off. Either I hate being told what to do and how to diet, or I think there is value in just eating right and healthy and not only what fits into a points system. Especially now that it is more low carb. I don't philosophically believe in the low carb way of eating. I see value in carbs, if you eat them correctly.

On the other hand it works for people. It works for my mom. Have you seen her lately? Holy Smokes.

I've really been considering the HCG diet. If only I could afford it.

And if only I would be disciplined enough to do it.

I wouldn't be.

I like good food too much.

I'll probably end up just doing what I always end up doing. Nursing for a year and feeling starved the whole time so I won't really diet, although I will work out. And then as soon as I finish nursing, I'll get pregnant and not be able to diet. And then I'll decide to lose the baby weight from Stella, yes from Stella!, after the baby. But then I'll be nursing again. And so the cycle will start over. Meanwhile 12 kids down the road I'll be the Two Ton Woman and you'll see me on a special of Dateline NBC where they are cutting a whole out of my roof and lifting me up with a crane.

Ok, not a realistic scenario. Zach loves me too much to ever let that happen thank God!

So anyways. I've got two weeks to wrap my head around the decision to take this for real. And then get to work.

So here we go.


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