October 13th, 2008 (10:24 am)
current location: work
current mood: cheerful
current song: blah blah blah
Random collection of interesting thoughts.
This post-baby-body thing is treating me well. I try to avoid thinking of my weight in numbers (although, much to my dismay, the fact that I had to pay attention to my weight at the end of my pregnancy means that I'm having to completely recondition myself to ignore the scale numbers and pay attention to other indicators), and more in terms of size. I have been slowly and consistently putting on weight since I graduated college -- really, since I came back from London. I think J will agree that the first ten pounds after I got back were pretty fucking necessary -- seriously, I ran out of money a month before I got back, it wasn't very pretty -- but since then, I didn't really feel I *needed* to put on weight like I did my senior year. At that time, I wore an 8 or a 6, depending on the manufacturer of the jeans in question. Since then, there has been a steady increase, until the 12s that I needed when I got pregnant. That was upsetting to me, but I was trying to handle it, working out and trying to watch what I ate, but I was just maintaining, not losing anything.
And then, today, I put on the slim-fit size 10 Ann Taylor cords that I was wearing the night Robb sang Folsom Prison Blues and we danced to Jana singing "Are You Gonna Be My Girl" and I almost kissed him (typed *almost missed him* the first time). They fit comfortably, possibly more comfortably than they did that night. Weird. I guess the weight is still there, but redistributed? Upward, clearly. Sigh.
Also, these C cups are not all they're cracked up to be. Can I have my little boobs back, kthx.
I'm entertained by how my priorities have been rearranged, completely without my acknowledgment or acceptance. There is a serious possibility of me being in moderately serious trouble at work because of the time I was out last week with Lucy. I really don't care. People all around me are trying to get me all fired up about how unjust work is being, but they're not. They're in line with the policy that I signed off on, and Vermont is an at-will state, anyway -- they could fire me for just about anything, as long as it's not a discriminatory reason. This wouldn't be (and I don't think they will anyway). But even if they do... my brain is all "whatevs." There's nothing I could have done differently, so why stress? I'll handle it as it comes.
I need to clean more. I spent most of yesterday afternoon cleaning, and our bedroom and Lucy's room are finally 90% free of clean clothes scattered all over the floor. I also found the source of The Smell (ew) and it has been disposed of. I need a new bathrobe. (ew). I also need to figure out some way to get Lucy into a back-carry wrap; the wrap I have just doesn't work for that. I'm not sure if the sling will, and if that doesn't, I'll see if I can get a just-plain-piece of fabric to work, all African style, because I'd really prefer not to spring for yet another carrier. Unless I can get Robb to try on the Ergo, and he feels he'd be able to carry Lu in that...then it would be worthwhile, because I don't think he'd use the Moby or the Maya.
And finally random comment for the day. I was such a freaking hippie last night, I had to laugh at myself. I was cooking dinner, Lucy was cranky and wanting to be held, and nursed, but dinner was not at the boil-and-leave it stage...finally, I popped her into the ring sling, pulled out a boob, and she went to town while I kept cooking dinner.
I'm such a fricking hippie. :)