Summer Time Blues and Family Traditions.

I feel like I'm functioning better and finally figuring out how to have four children. We are ready for adventures. Good thing school starts in six days. I am never having another summer baby. I refuse. I'm talking abstinence Sept-Dec if necessary. Summertime in Wisconsin is what I live for. Fireflies, lakes, ice cream and farms, hiking, sunshine and blue skies, I could go on forever. We usually spend every day at the lake with a picnic lunch and it's dreamy. The weather started getting nice in April and I made our traditional Summer Bucket List and then I got put on bed rest and had a baby and we've accomplished nothing.

I was under the impression that I was invincible and would feel amazing and would be able to have the most awesome summer ever filled with adventures with our new baby. And then I actually HAD the baby and entered reality. Aside from the emotions and recovery and changes that happen when you have a baby (which we'll visit in a bit), I realized that new babies sun burn easily. You have to worry about them getting too hot, bugs, sand getting in their eyes and nose, lake water being too cold for them, sun. Did I mention sun and heat?

4th Trimester is a real thing. I read something somewhere that said, "Your newborn has spent the entirety of life on the inside and now they're on the outside and it is scary as *choice explicit*. They need to be comforted and reassured that it's okay." Basically the most accurate description ever. Babe goes through a lot of changes and you do too! I think my body is so used to being pregnant that now it thinks something is missing and it's just screaming, "Hey! Something's missing! Put it back!!"

According to Ross, 4th trimester is the hardest on me. First trimester I'm tired and super McBarfy. Second: hormones are all over the place. Third trimester starts out great, but pretty soon I'm throwing up again, too uncomfortable to sleep, in pain, and for the love of all that is good in the world: get this kid out of me. So to say that the first few months that our bundle of joy is in our home tops all of that is really saying something.

I am exhausted. And angry and excited and sad and frustrated and in love and worried and optimistic and every other feeling in the world all in the span of about 5 seconds. Repeat. And the thing is, that's NORMAL.

We spent the summer mostly indoors in survival mode with too little sleep and probably too much caffeine. My invincible adventure filled summer plan lost to sleep deprivation and almost unconquerable tests of sanity. Emma's two month appointment was last week. I love that her doctor is just as concerned about me as he is about the girls. I rolled up with all four girls. I think one of them was in a costume. I had 3 hours of sleep, whatever was left of yesterday's make up, hair in a mess, and Emma had a giant spit up all down my shirt as we were waiting. He said that he has 3 major things he looks for and values in families and one minor thing. About 1% of his patients meet all of the major things and even less than that meet all 4. We do all of the major things and up until about a year ago had all four. (when we switched to disposable diapers.) He commented on that and said it was the ultimate compliment he could give to a parent and he has a lot of respect for me. I had to hold back from kissing him or bursting into tears in the office. He also said that within the next month Emma should start to figure the world out and settle down. Which means I'll settle down, too.

So here we are: Aug 26. School starts in 6 days and I'm kind of finally getting everything put back together. The last summer we had before any of the kiddos were in school and it's over. Gone. And I'm in mourning.

Yesterday I was updating my calendar and I was putting things in October and November and it hit me. And I stared at the computer for a good 15 minutes and just SOBBED. (remember the psycho emotions we just talked about?) My facebook memories have been reminding me of my impatient love of Fall. In years past I had already decorated, made fall crafts with the girls, and had cream cheese caramel apple cookie bars in the oven.

It took that good sob session to come to term with the situation. It's almost September and it is what it is. We're just going to have to have a super awesome Fall. Starting with our new family traditions. I'm a sucker for quirky family traditions.

It's a packed weekend. Tomorrow is our end of  summer party. (more to come on that) But what I'm really excited for is our new back to school traditions.

This year we will be having a family first day of school feast (say that five times fast) to be held the night of the first day of school. Complete with fancy menu, fancy glassware for fancy drinks, crowns for all, decorations, pumpkin bars for dessert, and the unveiling of our Family Theme for the school year.

I've been thinking about what our theme should be for weeks now and yesterday I sat down and got serious about it. I made a list and was emailing them to Ross and as I was typing the last option, I knew I had found it. My girl friend at Jessica Olsen Photography (Stalk her on facebook,and AZ friends you should hire her. She takes the most beautiful photos.) whipped this up for me last night.

It will be framed and hung on our wall for the school year. So girls don't know it yet, but our theme for the 2016-2017 school year is "The Joy of Trying Again". I'm working on some memorabilia for the girls to hand out at our feast. I ordered some gorgeous silver charms with the word "joy" inscribed on them. I think each year I'll pick out a charm that reflects our theme and the girls can collect them and make a bracelet out of them. I'm thinking about having some pins made for them, too, because why not?


We've had some big changes and adjustments in our family and even more in the works; I knew this was the perfect theme for our family this year. So in the spirit of finding joy in trying again, I think a Fall bucket list is in order. Because we're going to have an amazing Fall.

It's Okay to Not Fit in Your Pants.

Or at least that's what I'm trying to believe. Y'all are about to get to know me probably more than you wanted to.

After kids #1 and 2, I "bounced back" like it was nothing.The week after Aoife was born I was in church wearing a beautiful size 4 pencil skirt. I've always had body issues and I think I wore that skirt that day like a trophy. Granted, she was eight weeks early, but I remember feeling the pressure to get back in the gym at only days postpartum. I'd hit the treadmill on my way home from NICU visits.

Number three was a little more challenging. Before Tiegan, I started doing CrossFit. I still had some cardio days, but generally a gym workout for me consisted of a WOD (workout of the day), and then either a cardio workout, or a more targeted lifting workout (upper body, arms, or legs). I loved Olympic lifts. My body was strong and I felt like a badass. I ate really well during the week and "cheated" on the weekends. Every time I PR'd either on a lift or timed workout there was a celebration. I weighed more than I ever had, but I loved my body and everything it could do. Enter Tiegan.

Towards the middle/end of the pregnancy I got placed on modified bed rest -banned from the gym and any physical activity. I felt like my muscle turned to jelly. Bed rest got lifted and I got to walk, and she arrived just a couple days later. Enter postpartum depression.

Postpartum depression has been different for me each time. It's very real and can be very scary. And it's lonely. We moved just a couple weeks after Tiegan was born. In winter. In our new ward (church area), I felt isolated. People are generally very welcoming, but I don't know if it was because we had just had a baby, or it was winter, or what, but I felt like we were skipped over. I had a hard time meeting people with school schedule and all in all, I had a really hard time adjusting to life with three kids. I ended up snapping and having a quarter-life crisis and saw a psychiatrist weekly, sometimes twice a week, for a few months.

When I did get back in the gym, it was different. I was struggling with so many other things and I was exhausted. I didn't have the muscular fit body I had before, but with some help, it was okay.

Last fall I started working with a bikini/figure/bodybuilding coach. I love and am fascinated with bodybuilding. I love lifting. I was in a better place, so I set some new goals and got to work. Enter Emma. (no, she wasn't a surprise.) I got put on restricted activity right away and eventually bed rest. I didn't really start gaining weight until I was put on bed rest, and I only gained 20 pounds in all, but I started out fluffier than my "normal".

I lost 12 of that pretty quickly, but then breastfeeding happened and my body freaked out and we're right back where we started. I started lifting again at one month postpartum. At 7 weeks, I had my postpartum check up. And doc saw my crotch wasn't healed yet and my abs below my belly button are split. (Which is why my stomach is a little poochier there.) I still had the okay to exercise (minus sit ups and crunches for a while), and she was okay that I had started before the appointment, but isn't it insane how much pressure we have to "bounce back"? I mean, I've been getting only 3 or four hours of sleep, still bleeding, and I still got suckered into it.

Last week I decided I needed to switch tactics for my self esteem's sake. Rather than build and bulk, I decided to do things a little backwards and try to cut a little first. I'm back to tracking calories and macros and trying to not be obsessive about it. And I decided to wave the white flag and go get a few clothes that actually fit. I can button the pre preggo jeans, but I feel like a busted can of biscuits. At home I wear whatever and at work I wear skirts, but I don't really have anything that's acceptable to leave the house in on a normal day. So last night I trudged off only with Emma as my tag-along and I was even a little excited.

Nope. Nope nope nope. Turns out not only do I have no clue what size pants I should wear, I also have no clue what would even look good. I really had to fight not going and sitting in the car to cry, and I walked out with only two shirts and still no pants. Ross had friends over and I sat upstairs feeding Emma until he came up and asked how I was and what I had found. And I bursted out in tears and said every unkind thing about myself that I usually do.

I've been really bitter towards Ross this time around. And it's unfortunate, because he can't change how reproduction works. But he's stuck with the lifting program I started, taking the supplements I can't, and his body is changing and looking FINE. Meanwhile, I feel like a slug. I get it, I made a PERSON. And it's awesome. And I'm keeping that person alive. But most of the time I wish his nipples weren't useless while mine are being abused. (Girlfriend eats ALL the time.) Ross is kind and compassionate and says kind things to me all the time. And the crazy thing is, he BELIEVES the kind things he's saying. But my pants still don't fit. And I'm really trying to be okay with it. I had four kids in five and a half years and my body got rocked. I'm exhausted. At least my kids are cute. Leggings are totally acceptable as pants anyway, right?