Going Beyond "Bad Body Image"

Today in therapy my T asked me what my bad body image was all about – what is really going on in my head when I say I look fat or ugly or [insert some deprecating comment here]. I looked at her, kind of surprised, because I never really go beyond the surface of “I’m gaining weight and I look so gross and therefore I must be fat and THEREFORE I must be a bad person and THEREFORE that must mean that I feel inadequate around you and feel ashamed and NATURALLY that must make me just an all around really vile person.”

So when I said to her, “I don’t know what it’s about. I just know that I’m gross and big and I don’t like looking at my body,”
and she replied with, “BUT WHY???”
And I don’t know.
So I started to cry instead.
(It seemed like the natural thing to do.)

She told me to really think about it, and then talk to her about it  – because I’m never going to fully recover from my eating disorder until I can root out why I feel so poorly toward my body and work through it. This is all very interesting to me – this idea that I’m not fat or gross and that I shouldn’t feel self-conscious about the way I look – knowing that maybe, at some point, I’ll feel positive toward my body and accept it when it is healthy and thriving sounds almost wrong – but what a scintillating idea! I hope I hope I can work through this, and that the key to really and truly overcoming my body image blues is to figure out WHY I feel this way, and then face that belief head-on and really challenge the hell out of it and prove this idea that I’ve had in my head for years – that I’m fat and bad – WRONG.

And then maybe I can really move on.
I’d like to have a day where I think I look nice. Maybe even okay.
Maybe even have a day where I AM OKAY.
So it’s a goal; something I really want to work on.

Admitting it is the First Step

My name is Brie, and I think I might own too many pairs of shoes. (And that's only half of them.)

My denial keeps me in disorganization.

But you know why shoes are great?  Because my foot size doesn't change with my disappearing, rather rotund and pregnant waistline!  Shoes never make me feel fat or depressed, and horizontal stripes on your feet don't necessarily have to be a no-no.  (Although, dear readers, tread lightly with those.  Pun INTENDED.)

Shoes make the outfit.  One must own several styles in every color.  This is a proven, scientific fact.

But lately, it's been getting a little out of hand.  I am buying shoes faster than my rather small closet can handle them.  Maybe it's time to give some away...
but...
my addiction my love for my shoes just won't allow it...

I wonder how big the mountain in my closet will be by Autumn?
Do I (seriously) need help?

25 Weeks

How Far Along: 25 weeks!

Size of baby: According to BabyCenter, she weighs about 1.5 lbs and measures about 13 ½ inches. This week her weight is compared to a rutabaga, which baffles me because I don’t think I’ve ever eaten or even SEEN – nor will I ever – a rutabaga. Talk about an abstract vegetable!
Total Weight Gain: Sigh sigh. I don’t know! I’m just trying not to worry about it too much and let my body do what it needs to do, as long as I eat in a healthy manner.
Maternity Clothes: It’s official, I can no longer wear any of my regular jeans without the help of the Bella Band. On Saturday I wore my last pair that still fit me – a glorious pair of Sevens – but Brandon laughed at me constantly because my crack kept putting on a show – it was definitely on display – sad! So, I put that last pair away and it’s been maternity ever since.
Gender: Girl! Avery Jane!
Movement: I still have some days where she’s super active and other days where she moves very little. On Sunday she moved almost constantly during church…maybe she was bored like me? (Tee hee.) Last night Brandon was able to spread his whole hand wide on my tummy and feel her move simultaneously at both the bottom and top of my tummy – I think she was doing pull ups in there – perhaps using the placenta for leverage?
Sleep: I don’t think this pregnancy is yet hampering my sleep – I’m not too big yet where I’m super uncomfy – the only thing that gets in the way of a full night’s rest is my incessant need to pee.
What I miss: Having variety while shopping or getting dressed in the morning. I’m tired of wearing the same things over and over.
Cravings: Almost anything sweet. Why can’t I crave celery? (Answer: because celery sucks.)
Symptoms: Frequent urination, a slight waddle, and what I call “having a chicken nugget moment.” See, I was at Costco on Saturday, and I was struggling to lift a huge bag of Mickey Mouse chicken nuggets out of the freezer, (for Cade of course) and I lifted it funny and got this sharp pain in my lower tummy, seriously where my pubic bone is, and it aches there frequently – probably from my growing uterus and baby. So now, every time it hurts, I simply refer to it as “chicken nugget pain” and Brandon knows what I’m talking about. :)
Best Moment of the Week: This doesn’t have much to do with the pregnancy, but definitely my best moment of the past week was going to the aforementioned Bees game with my men. I love spending time with my family, and I can’t wait ‘til Avery joins us!
Appointments This Week? Nope, no appointments this week.
What I’m looking forward to: My ultrasound in 3 weeks – it’ll be fun to see her so big and so well formed!
One Thing I've Learned This Week: There is still so much we need for Avery – we’ve got her big purchases, like the stroller and carseat and she has a crib, etc, but when you think about buying bottles and blankets and diapers, etc, it puts it into perspective how many things we still need to do to prepare for her arrival – it’s overwhelming!
Pictures from this week:

The apron makes me look huuuuge!

Easter Weekend

I had quite the grand Easter weekend. I started it by taking Cade to see “Hop” on Friday afternoon to get him psyched for the Easter Bunny coming this weekend – and it was alright – I mean, I had fun with Cade, but the movie was only okayish to me. I don’t know what’s up with me, but lately I just CANNOT sit through a movie – I get bored and restless, so I think I had more of an ADHD problem during the movie than my 4 year old did – seriously. By far the funniest line of the movie was when the Easter Bunny (who poops jellybeans) said, “I’m sorry I JELLYBEANED all over your dreams.” I was totally cackling, and, like, I was the only one in the theater doing so. Hate when that happens!

Watching "Hop"

Saturday night we went to the Bees game – they were doing a firework show after the game, and B and I thought it’d be fun to go and take C, as he’s never been to a baseball game before. Um, it was COLD. It got to the point where I wasn’t sure I could sit there any longer, and I was even wearing my big froofy winter coat, so B told me to go see if I could find somewhere to buy a blanket. So, I found one – it was plush and soft and deliciously warm – but cost 50 bucks – but I gratefully bought it anyway - I just found it ironic that I bought a blanket to sit at a game that cost double what the tickets even cost us. Oh well, can’t put a price on family fun, right? Cade had soooo much fun, and when the whole crowd sang “Take Me Out to the Ball Game” his eyes were bright and shining and he was smiling so big – I hope, in my whole life, I NEVER forget the look on his face. It was perfectly happy, and that makes me so happy.  And, even the fireworks show was good – they didn’t cheap out on us at all, so even though I nearly went into a Hypothermic coma from the cold, I’m glad we went, if even for the experience of it all.

Numb from the cold but having fun nonetheless.

Yesterday, of course, was Easter, and the Easter Bunny definitely stopped by our house. Cade was so excited to see that not only had the Easter Bunny left him a basket full of his favorite candy (mostly Kit Kats and Twixs and Reese’s) but he’d also left him sidewalk chalk and a Batman kite (he’s been wanting that for awhile) but also a new big boy bike with a new helmet – he LOVES it.  So, despite the crappy weather this Easter weekend, he rode his bike a ton. (When I told my therapist that the Easter Bunny was bringing Cade a bike, her direct quote was, “Holy shit, the Easter Bunny is moving up in this world. I just got a candy bar when I was a kid.” Guffaw.)

Check out his new ride.

I don’t ever get mushy gushy religious on my blog, but Easter Sunday at church was really great too. I’ve decided that holidays (and the real meanings of them) mean so much more when you have a child to share them with. Yesterday was full of family from both sides – we had a wonderful Easter feast at my parents house with many of my siblings, and then we went to Brandon’s parents house afterward and had an Easter egg hunt with all the grandkids – it was a lot of fun.

So here it is, Monday, and I’m Easter candy-ed out but happy I had a great weekend. Hope you all did too!

Restroom Ramblings

We’re close enough, aren’t we, that I can hash out some of my bathroom issues with you, right? (Although I think I’ve done this before. Hrrrm.)

So I’m not weird or OCD or anything about bathrooms or germs, but I HATE public bathrooms. I’ll avoid them at all costs, though now that I’m pregnant and pee on an average every 43.59 minutes, that has had to drastically change. The first stall on the right at work and I have become suuuper tight. I’m in there all the time. So, imagine to my surprise the other day, when I went into the bathroom at work, and was immediately assaulted with this sign:

Now, I’ve thought about this sign A LOT. And I can’t figure out why it’s up. WHY does it matter if one is talking on the phone while using the bathroom? I mean, somebody may be on their break, and peeing while talking is kind of like hitting two birds with one stone, right? And I’m scratching my head, because hearing someone chat on the phone is like the least offensive noise I hear in the bathroom, like, ever. I’d much rather see a sign in the bathroom that says:

I mean, isn’t talking on your cell phone like a BASIC HUMAN RIGHT – as basic, I daresay, as doing a #1 or #2? I just don’t get it. And I pay no heed to it – if my cell phone rings while doing my business, then by the bathroom gods I SWEAR I’ll answer it without the least bit of shame! I wonder if I’ll have to pull a Rosa Parks one day and STAND UP FOR MY RIGHTS?? I say we all unite and talk while using the restroom as much as possible, just to show building management who’s boss. I think we might have a mutiny on our hands!

And another thing:
I find that talking to others while you’re both using the bathroom is awkward. Like, if you’re in a stall next door to someone, and you know who they are because perhaps you walk in at the same time or something – isn’t chatting with them while you’re both going a little awkward? If it were up to me, I’d zip my lips, do my thang, and get out of there as soon as possible. Especially just because it’s embarrassing to ignore THE SOUNDS that someone that you otherwise have only a strictly business relationship, or maybe you're only acquaintances, is making.  It just feels a little too personal, doesn't it?

CASE IN POINT:
This morning I had therapy. After our sesh, I desperately had to pee. So I begrudgingly went into the restrooms there, though I HATE the bathrooms at my T’s office – that’s another post for another day – and try to avoid them as much as possible; but like I’ve said, now that I’m preggers, I can’t just hold it like I used to, because I swear, I WILL PEE MY PANTS. It’s already happened. Twice.

So I’m, like, tinkling, and suddenly I HEAR MY THERAPIST’S VOICE. And she makes some remark about how she knows I must have to pee reallllly bad if I’m actually deigning to use the restrooms at her office. And I’m nervous because now we’re both peeing and trying to casually chat over the splashies and tinkles. IT WAS TERRIBLE. I think our next therapy session needs to be solely focused on the trauma that resulted from that experience. And you think I’m kidding.

So am I just weird? Or do you guys get it?
Ah, I better go. I’ve got to, you know, use the bathroom.
And I'm not even kidding.  Wish me luck!

Intuitive Eh?



The intuitive eating bible.

Does anyone else freakin’ not get intuitive eating? I’m finally at the point in my treatment and recovery where my dietician is trying to help me figure it out, and I’m like whaaaaa? Eat until you’re satisfied, not until you’re full? Honor your hunger? Be mindful of what you eat? So is all this gonna happen when, you know, pigs fly, or when J. Lo stops bugging the hell out of me? (That will NEVER HAPPEN. NEVER.)

I was first introduced to the concept of intuitive eating when I was admitted to treatment for the first time at 17 years old. The idea at the treatment center I was at, was to be on a weight gain meal plan, and then once I reached my goal weight, I was to slowly learn how to eat enough by myself to maintain my weight, and that was to happen with the help of intuitive eating. Well, once I got to the “intuitive eating” part of treatment, I took that as an invitation to eat less, promptly lose weight, then promptly get my skinny butt kicked off of it and back onto a stringent meal plan.

So, in all my ten years of treatment, (both in and outpatient) I’ve never really gotten intuitive eating – I don’t think I’ve ever successfully pulled it off before. People have talked about it with me, and I’ve kind of just viewed it was this thing that seemed cool but completely unattainable. So, I kind of ignored it and continued begrudgingly on in my meal plan. Well, a couple of months ago, when my dietician broached the subject of beginning intuitive eating with me, I was excited. I mean, I was finally graduating up a level from a strict meal plan, which meant that I was maintaining my weight (or gaining weight with the pregnancy, in my case) and I figured I was finally ready.
But that quickly changed to not feeling very ready AT ALL.
A few weeks of intuitive eating, and I was begging my dietician to put me back on a meal plan – and really, how often have you long-time readers heard me complain about my freakin’ meal plan? I must have been incredibly desperate if I wanted to go back to that suckage! The freedom I was given to eat what I wanted when I wanted felt terrifying, not freeing. I felt out of control with my eating and with weight gain. I decided intuitive eating sucked and that I COULD NEVER DO IT wah wah wah.

She convinced me to give it a shot, to keep trying. As I told my therapist of my fears and slip-ups regarding intuitive eating, she made me feel better by telling me that I’ve had my ED for so long, OF COURSE they didn’t expect me to get intuitive eating right away – it made sense that this was so tough for me and would probably take me a long time to fully understand and feel comfortable with. But, they both somehow worked their voodoo magic on me, and here I am, a few months later, still plugging along, trying this intuitive eating thing, rather than staying safe with a meal plan.
Even though it feels terrifying and weird and uncomfy.
Even though I blame it for my pregnancy weight gain. (This makes sense when you don’t think about it. ha!)

So, are there any out there that want to share their views and/or experiences with intuitive eating to make my stressed out little brain feel better? Does it get easier? (If it never does, DON’T TELL ME! ;) What has worked or been helpful for you? Anyone?

Cat Ralphing Remedy?

She looks so pleased with her purging.

So, my cats puke sometimes. I mean, it’s really common to have cats ralph once in a while because they like their fur balls and get into the garbage at times and groom each other’s nether regions, (I’d puke too) and really how can you blame someone for losing their cookies after licking clean their, you know, vagina? On average, I’d say one or the other of them throw up about once a month. And I can handle that. I don’t love cleaning it up, but I love my cats, so I do it.

Well, Bobbi has started throwing up nearly every day, and that’s mainly why I’m writing this post, to ask any other cat owners out there if they know what her problem could be. It’s ALWAYS in the morning when I’m trying to sleep, and she doesn’t seem to be under any physical (or emotional) distress at all when she does it. She just starts gagging and hacking, throws up, sniffs it, occasionally eats it, then promptly goes back to sleep.

Brandon thinks she’s starting to struggle with bulimia. (How can you blame him for coming up with some pat ED joke when he's dealt with me all these years?)  Of course I scoffed at the notion until she kept doing it over and over, seemingly for no reason! I mean, it’s not like she’s sticking her paw down her throat (with claws that’d get tricky!) but I swear there’s nothing wrong with her. She’s not acting sick or out of the ordinary at all, so I wonder why this could suddenly be happening. And, gross moment: I’ve examined the ralphage, and there doesn’t seem to be much fur or any foreign objects in it that could be causing the vomiting, and I’m exhausting all possible avenues, here. Crazy cat is making me psycho.

And I’ll take her to the vet of course if I need to, but I thought I’d first ask any of ya’llsies out there if you knew why my cat could suddenly start throwing up spontaneously. Is it just to vex my troubled heart? Because it’s working!

24 Weeks

How Far Along: Twenty fo’ weeks!

Size of baby: According to BabyCenter, she weighs just over a pound and length-wise is almost a foot long. This week, she is, apparently, an ear of corn. Also, my uterus is about the size of a soccer ball – I am a sacred vessel! 
Total Weight Gain: Wouldn’t tell even if I knew – which I don’t. I get on the scale backward at both the OB and the dietician’s office. Although, I am told that I am gaining weight “normally,” so I assume I am neither gaining too much or too little. Average weight gain at this point is about a pound a week, so I’m assuming I’m pretty close to that.
Maternity Clothes: Maternity for sure. I went this weekend and even bought slightly bigger pants – they fit my tummy much more comfortably, and besides? Who cares what a little tag at the back of your pants says anyway? I do! I DON’T.
Gender: Girl! Avery Jane!
Movement: Movement has significantly increased this week – I lurrrrrve it! Yesterday she moved almost constantly from about 3 pm to 6 pm – I just lay on the couch with my hand on my tummy reveling the feeling of her being active and just okay. You know?
Sleep: The only thing keeping me awake at night is MY CAT BARFING. But that has nothing to do with pregnancy, so that’s another post for another time…
What I miss: Smaller boobs. I’m not even kidding. Why oh my must these suckas grow when they’re already HUUUGE?

Cravings: You know, really no cravings this week. I’m kind of relieved about it because for awhile I felt like I was insatiable with my cravings, and that made the ED rear its ugly head, so with no cravings, I seem to struggle a little less ED-wise.

Symptoms: Peeing – of course – and I’m already starting to do that whole “pregnancy waddle” thing. I know I’m only 5 ½ months pregnant, so it’s kind of pathetic, but my, like, PUBIC BONE AREA hurts. It does!

Best Moment of the Week: Probably the aforementioned time I spent yesterday feeling her kick, and also this weekend when I was at Nordstrom, I saw the teensiest pair of pink TOMS that I know Avery will wear and rock, and I just got so excited for her to come and to dress her up in adorable (and designer) things!
Appointments This Week? Nope, no appointments this week.
What I’m looking forward to: Catching that moment when Cade feels Little A kicking for the first time!
One Thing I've Learned This Week: I’m learning that I need to forge more of a real connection with Baby A. I am thrilled she’s coming, and I can prepare for her arrival by buying her clothes and the things she needs – which I do – but when it comes to actually talking to her; connecting with her, I fall short. And it’s because I’m scared. I’m scared that if I get too close to her, and lose her like I lost Kendall, then I’ll be devastated – I’m protecting myself, see? But I think it’s time to move past that and totally have A Moment with her. :)
Pictures from this week:

Writing and the Weekend

Many of you have noticed, I’m sure, that I’m blogging much more often – nearly every day – when for months and months, I maybe posted a handful of times in an entire month.

I really really miss my writing.

And this has lead me to toy with the idea of once again resuming writage on the book…but I’m digging my heels in over it. Maybe it’s because I miss my writing pal. Maybe it’s because the task seems so overwhelming and huge, that just getting started; writing that first sentence, seems like too much.

In the end, I’m not sure why. But I know this would be an excellent time to make more headway, what with me only working a few hours each day and the needs of a newborn infant not necessitating my every move - writing now, as opposed to 3 ½ months from now, will be much easier. So why don’t I just do it?

I guess I just feel like I was meant for more in this crazy world than I’m currently offering it. And writing and publishing a book is some little morsel I could offer the world, you know? Sigh.  Maybe I need a smaller dream.

I had a pretty good weekend, methinks. Friday night I went to a bridal shower for my baby sister (okay, she’s my niece, but same diff). I can’t believe she’s getting married. I’M OLD. And she’s so beautiful and young and happy and I am thrilled for her. And then Saturday I woke up in a funk, but decided I’d push the gloomies away by going shopping; it nearly always works. ;) And it did! I bought the aforementioned Keens for me and The Boy – I originally was only going to buy him a pair, but when he saw that they had big girl sizes, he wanted me to have a pair too so we could be twins. And, of course, that melted my heart, because at what other time in my little boy’s life is he EVER going to want to match his mom? I couldn’t pass up the opportunity! He loves them, too. He insists in sleeping in them (puts them over his footed pajamas) and he even asked me if he could walk on water with them. Also, we’ve also got this thing going where we give each other “high Keens” (instead of high fives). :) So I’m thinking all of this mother/son bonding I’m getting out of them was worth the $65 I paid for my pair. Also, their comfy, so bonus, right?

I also bought some more maternity necessities – a coughbiggercough pair of pants, a skirt, and a few basic tees. They were needed!

Saturday night we played with Brett ‘n Ang and Haley ‘n Johnny. We went to dinner then played cards; it was lovely, and I thank Haley for reaching out to me, after reading my pathetic “I need friends!” post. ;) We also went and bought some more must-haves for Avery, including, but not limited to, the most ADORABLE outfit that made me squeal and all that good stuff when I saw it. We also bought her a bassinet, because I insist on her being in our bedroom for the first few months, because new parents get in that mode where they freak out when they snuffle and move around and I just can’t bear to have her so far away from me, in a different room in a huge crib, when she’s so little.

So all in all it was a good weekend. Hope yours was too.

Oh and PS - a pal and blog reader of mine (thanks A) sent this picture my way this morning, and it made me giggle - I thought I'd pass it along:

Keen Over Keens

I went a little crazy at Nordstrom today.

Mommy and son Keens.

Brie Betrayed

My heart feels heavy. I cried almost the entire hour in therapy today and I’m not even sure why. I just feel betrayed. By my body, by my best friend, and by intuitive eating and recovery. I think most people are under the false impression (including myself, sometimes) that once you are recovered, or in recovery, (whatever that means to you) that things are grand. That you are suddenly happy and that your problems seem to flit away, and that you are strong and capable to handle whatever happens – and that you’ll do so in some sort of socially accepted “healthy” manner.

But I don’t feel that way. Yes, there is absolutely no denying that I’m happier now that I’m not actively engaging in my ED. No question there. But it doesn’t mean things are perfect. In some ways I still feel pretty lost. I still feel pretty out of control.

Last night in group, it seemed like the really sick girls (i.e. the girls who are new to treatment and still heavily engaged in their ED) just look up to me like I’m some recovery goddess on a pedestal; happy and perfect. And it’s hard to keep up that image. Cuz I just think, if you really knew what was going on in my head, would you feel the same way? Or would you balk at my insecurities and heinous body image and how out of control I feel? Sure, I’m not grossly underweight, and I’m no longer hooked to a feeding tube or in and out of the hospital, but I still hurt. I’m just not displaying my pain anymore for the world to see – but it doesn’t mean it isn’t there.

And I’ve always been terrible with actually saying how I feel out loud – with expressing my anger or pain or fear through words, or through some other appropriate and healthy means, rather than starving or cutting to say HELP ME HELP ME I’M DYING I HURT HELP ME PLEASE. I’ve always used my body. And now that I don’t have that…I’m quiet. I’m withdrawn. I’m hurting, but I have no idea how to actually say that. My walls are back up. And that’s making me terribly lonely.

My body size, my weight, and how quickly I’m putting on pregnancy weight, has really thrown me for a loop, too. I can officially and irrefutably say that I weigh more now than I ever have in my entire life. It physically feels different. It’s hard to get used to. I’m so aware of my body and of how much space I take up and it moves and looks differently. It feels alien and out of control and gross. I understand that a good portion of feeling this way is distorted, and can change, but until then, I almost feel like one of those pod people – like I’m inhabiting some foreign body that doesn’t belong to me. ET, phone home, right?

So, forgive me for this post. I sometimes stumble along in recovery, trying to find my way through the twists and turns life and recovery can throw at me. Things feel a bit tricky and more than a little messy, but I’m slowly figuring things out. And don’t you dare think I’m giving up – I’m not – I’m simply trying to be honest with my feelings, in expressing that recovery isn’t always perfect. And neither am I.

Balloon Me Up, Scotty

It’s really no secret that I’m struggling with weight gain during this pregnancy. And, to clarify, when I say I’m struggling with weight gain, I don’t mean I’m actually struggling with putting weight on – that’s coming along more than fine – but I’m definitely struggling with the residual body image issues that are coming up as a result of said weight gain.

And maybe that’s more of the secret. Because I truly don’t think I’ve really expressed how hard I am on myself; how bad my body image is. That I cry all the time because of how big I am. That I have to be reminded over and over that I’m not fat; rather that I have a beautiful little babuh inside me. That gaining weight is normal and needed and expected at this point in my pregnancy. Etc, etc.

In regards to all this, my mom shared an awesome object lesson with me the other day while we were noshing on chicken nuggets at Chick fil A. She said she had been watching The Doctors (I don’t watch the show myself…have hardly even heard of it) and they gave an interesting analogy about pregnancy and weight gain, and I wanted to share it with ya’ll:

So, I don’t blow up balloons anyway, because I have about the lung capacity of a fetus, but you know how when you try to blow up a balloon, it can be really tough at first? That you blow and blow and the elasticity in that balloon just won’t stretch – it takes a lot of time and quite a bit of air to get that balloon to blow up, but once it does, if you let the air out of it again, and try to blow it up again, it’ll immediately fill with air, without any resistance like it did at first, because it’s already been stretched out?

Ta da! That’s exactly how it is with pregnancy. With your first pregnancy, your body remains tight and it’s harder to balloon up and get bigger. But, eventually, you do gain weight and get big. With second and third pregnancies, your body has no resistance. It balloons up quickly, but notice in the end; the balloon that blows up easier is really no bigger than the balloon that was tough to blow up – it was just easier to get it that way.

Make sense?  I don't know why but I'm like SWEATING with the effort of trying to explain that!  Haha.

So, honestly, that brought a bit of comfort. To know that my body (probably hopefully wah wah wah) won’t be much bigger than it was during my first pregnancy, it’s just getting bigger quicker. And really, with this being my 3rd pregnancy, I should go easy on myself and realize my body is tired and stretchy and this is just what it wants to do so I need to be okay with it and stop judging myself so harshly.

I am a balloon. Kind of a big balloon. But that’s okay! Right?
Right?

Furminate Me!

I love brushing Hairy. Well, let me amend that. I love removing hair from Hairy, in whatever manner possible – whether that be brushing her, or pulling it out in clumps. (And the crazy cat lady rears her head – meoooow!) I can’t help it. And do you want to know why I love grooming her so much? If I tell you why, it’ll be creepy – I’m warning you now – and it’s also a little crazy, but I’ll divulge:

When I pull fur off my cat, and see the big pile I’ve removed from her person, I feel skinny. I’m not kidding. I feel like I’ve lost weight. It, like, boosts my self-esteem. I really can’t explain why, I just feel good when I do it! After a particularly successful de-clumping session, I’ll grab the excess fur in my hand and exude triumphantly to Brandon that I’ve just lost 10 lbs. He’ll look at me like I’m crazy and I’ll gleefully dance around the room and do a little I Lost Weight Without Restricitng Jig.  (When I told my therapist this, I think her exact words to me were, "You did not lose 10 pounds, you nutjob.")

So there it is. I’m weird, I know, but it’s true. And I know it doesn’t make sense. There is no basis in reality, here. It’s just a crazy, weird quirk of mine.

And she has sooooo much fur, so it doesn’t matter how long I pull hair out, it’ll keep coming. (And I’ll keep losing weight!) Poor thing, I think she appreciates it – I mean the hairball issues this feline has is horrendous. She is honestly one of the fluffiest cats I’ve ever seen, and trust me, I’ve seen my share.

So, I was told a long time ago to invest in the Furminator. I didn’t quite understand how a certain cat (or dog) brush could be so much better than any other, but I thought I’d give it a try – until I realized, to my horror, that the brush cost 50 bucks (or more!)  – no way did I want to spend that – so I went back to pulling out clumpage from Hairy with my fingers while she lounged on my lap in ecstasy.

This time of year is always really bad, though, because she’s starting to shed off all her winter fur, and that makes the shedding and my allergies even worse. She has a killer undercoat too, which makes the sheddage really horrendous. I’ve been brushing and pulling and grooming, but the cat’s fur content is insane – I just wasn’t making much progress.

So, somehow, I was telling all this to my therapist on Monday, and she showed me a picture on her camera phone that she’d taken of the pile – nay, dear readers – MOUNTAIN of fur she’d gotten off her dog using the Furminator. I wish I had that pic to show you, because I cannot even put into words how much fur I saw, and if I tried to describe it to you, you wouldn’t believe me anyway. It was unbelievable. And she told me she had done that all with an hour’s time and the Furminator. So that made me reconsider my No Furminator is Needed policy.

So then, I asked people on Facebook for their opinions – and every person that replied, told me that the Furminator was amazing! And a must have! And so worth the money! So that night, I went to the pet store, and begrudgingly paid for the brush.

And I started Furminating Hairy. And I kept Furminating. And Furminating. And fur kept coming out! It wouldn’t stop! I was getting skinnier and skinnier and Hairy was thrilled, I’m sure, to be getting rid of so much excess fur. It got intense. I was brushing feverishly and the fur and pounds were flying. We totally had A Moment, not even kidding.

So, after only 15 minutes of Furminating, (she can't take much more than that at a time) I give you the Furminated Hairy. And trust me, even though that pile looks weak, it was a lot more than it looks like. (I swear)

I am so, so happy with my purchase. 50 bucks to lose weight and de-fur my cat? I’ll take it!

23 Weeks

I’ve decided that I want to be a bit more organized in documenting my pregnancy, so I’m borrowing an idea from my pal Sheyenne’s blog, and every week I’m going to show pictures of my growing tummy and fill out a short questionnaire about the pregnancy. If this bores you, feel free to skip these posts! (Even though you’ll be a BIG JERK. ;)

How Far Along: 23 weeks!

Size of baby: According to BabyCenter, she weighs about as much as a “large mango” and comes in weighing just over a pound and is about 11 inches long.
Total Weight Gain: Don’t you wish you knew?
Maternity Clothes: Mostly all maternity, though I still have a couple pair of pants that I can wear if I leave them unbuttoned. But that somehow leaves me feeling pathetic, so I mostly wear maternity to help the comfort and self-esteem issues. I tried on a normal, pre-pregnancy shirt the other day, and it was tight before the pregnancy, and holy sad I could barely squeeze it over my BOOBS. I’m a growin’ girl!
Gender: Girl! Avery Jane!
Movement: She’s getting more and more active, though it doesn’t feel super consistent yet. I’ll have a day or two where I feel her ALL THE TIME, then another day will pass where I feel her very little. Consistency should be coming more and more in the coming weeks, though.
Sleep: Sleep is fine, as long as I have my Ambien to help me fall asleep. I am an insane insomniac without some form of sleep-aid, and to my surprise, Ambien is safe to take during pregnancy, so I gratefully take it, otherwise I’d literally be up all night. I’m not big enough yet that I’m too uncomfortable during the night, so that’s good.
What I miss: Being able to lie on my tummy so Brandon can give me a backrub, and my Rock Revivals.
Cravings: Lately I’ve been craving TEDDY GRAHAMS. I snarfed an entire box of the cinnamon flavor in like 2 days.  But you can't bite them and immediately crunch into them, you have to suck on them til they're all soft and gooshy!  Yum!
Symptoms: My need to pee is truly insane – and I know it’s only going to get worse! It baffles me how I can pee out so much more than it seems I take in.
Best Moment of the Week: I know this is going to sound stupid, but I was standing in line at Hot Dog on a Stick, (ahahahaha) waiting for my veggie dog, when all of a sudden she just started kicking up a storm. I imagine it was naturally because she couldn’t wait for me to bite into that fried, fatty deliciousness, but I just put my hand on my tummy and smiled.
Appointments This Week? Yes, I had an appt and all looks well! The only thing that was not-so-cool was that my lungs didn’t seem to be great – the doc wanted me to make an appt with my pulmonologist to get it checked out to make sure all was well, and that baby is getting enough oxygen, though they’re not too concerned.
What I’m looking forward to: Stronger movements from Avery, and kissing her soft little cheeks for the first time.
One Thing I've Learned This Week: Gratitude for the little miracle growing inside me. Even though I often complain and joke about pregnancy, I truly have learned the insanely difficult way that it’s a blessing and a miracle, and I don’t take it for granted.
Pictures from this week:

Forging New Friendships

Corny but true!

This might be a bit tough to explain, and it might make more sense if I had posted that rant I mentioned a few posts ago, but I feel like I’m right on the cusp of really figuring this recovery thing out – I’m getting closer and closer to what I would consider being almost and truly recovered (minus some body image stuff that messes with my mind, but does NOT cause me to act out on ED behaviors). I think one of the last things I’m figuring out is that in order to recover and stay recovered, I need to start hanging out with people that aren’t really sick. Now calm down all my friends (mostly that have ED’s – ha!) that are reading this. I’m not giving you the boot, or telling you that you suck because you have an ED, and that I’m too cool for school and hanging out with you, because that’s not what I’m saying at all. I’m simply saying that in some ways, when I’m interacting with really sick people, it keeps me a little sick, too. Not because anyone is saying that they won’t like me if I’m all better, and that I’m more fun when I’m “thin,” and all that jazz, but, well, being sick so long myself, and being around only sick people, has kind of created this expectation in my brain that being sick is the only way to be, and that it’s normal. That it’s okay.

But it’s not okay.

So, with one friendship in particular, that I won’t go into details about, I’ve had to pull back. And by pull back, I mean we aren’t friends anymore. Does it hurt to lose a bestie? Yes. But it was keeping me sick, and I think in the end, it was keeping her sick too. I won’t be a part of something like that. I wish I could go into details, but I can’t, mostly because then I start getting all betchy and feisty and that was the whole reason I never posted that particular blog I mentioned. I guess the anger is still too raw and close to the surface, and I honestly can’t talk about it without getting really emotional and all hot and bothered about it. Maybe when a bit more time has passed, and it’s not so painful to talk about, I’ll try to approach this particular loss of a friend again. We’ll see.

I also think that one of the main reasons I solely had friends that had ED's (mostly from meeting them in treatment centers) was because I didn't have enough self-esteem to hang out with a "normal" person.  I felt so inadequate, so less-than, and I couldn't imagine how anyone sane would want to interact with me.  Why would someone who could eat normally and not need to freak out about it and someone who could go an entire week without sinking into a funk want to be around someone who was clearly emotionally stunted?  Being around "normal" moms who could function and appear happy only made me feel worse about myself.

But I think I'm starting to s l o w l y believe that I could be one of those "normal" moms - just maybe.

So. Anyone know where I can make some new friends? I’m a wittle lonely!
Calling all healthy people! Who wants a new friend? Married white female? Loves cats and cardigans and sharing witty banter! Has a big bubble, so no hugs are needed. I’m laid back, I’ll make you laugh, and I’ll even whore myself for some Diet Coke! (Warning: can pee her pants if you make her laugh too hard, or maybe if she has a particularly violent sneeze.)
Any takers?

Las Vegas/Cruise Pictures

Here's a few pics from our vacation:  also, I apologize in advance because since it was only the 2 of us on the trip, we had to take all of the pics ourselves mostly, so you mostly get close ups of the two of us smiling, and not much else.

My view of our hotel from my tanning spot.  It was 86 degrees and sunny and beautiful.  My vitamin D-deprived body ate it up!

From the pool.

Our first night walking the strip, this is in front of our hotel, the MGM Grand.  Brandon cut off the lion's head, which was kind of the whole point of the entire picture, but oh wellsies.

 B in front of New York New York.

 Another from the pool. 

 We went to the Beatles Love Cirque Du Soleil show - it was AMAZING - definitely the highlight of our entire trip.  I sprung for buying the re-usable cup to like memorialize the experience, and it was definitely the most expensive Diet Coke I've ever bought!

Love and Diet Coke.

 Our first pic on the cruise ship.  We're a little dazed and overwhelmed.

Mini golfing on the ship.  It was FAREEZING!!

This picture took a lot of self-esteem to post because I look so big.  This was in our room, by the porthole windows.

Bingo and Diet Coke.  I didn't win.

We took like 38567203485 shots trying to make, as I said to Brandon, "silly faces."  ALL of his came out with him looking, well, not very silly, but sad. 

 Eating dinner, our last night on the cruise.

We had so much fun.  The cruise ended up being a bit of a bummer because the weather never got over about 68 degrees and cloudy and windy, but I still had fun enjoying the new experience.  I didn't realize until we got there how badly B and I needed this time together, without Cade or other distractions, to really spend time and focus on one another.  In summary, I had an awesome time!

Unvented Drama & Diaper Bags (A thrilling combo, no?)

So, last night I wrote a post, and had my mouse hovering over the publish button, when I hesitated, asked myself Am I really going to post this? Probably not, and maybe only over my dead (but svelt) body. So I sat back, pondered, and decided against it – for now. I’m afraid it would cause too much drama and potentially come back to bite me in the butt, so I’m going to have to think about it awhile before I decide to post it or not. And if I do, there’s a chance it’ll only be up for a couple hours before I chicken out and decide to take it down again. It’s pretty confrontational and full of me ranting, so I guess I have to decide if I want to dare put myself out there like that. We’ll see I guess. I suppose I need to find a balance between airing my dirty laundry out in public and wearing my heart on my sleeve vs. expressing my feelings appropriately on a forum as public as my blog. So I don’t know. Have some figuring and mulling to do, I guess.

Diaper bag designed courtesy of Petunia Pickle Bottom

On a happier note, here’s a pic of the new diaper bag I just got in the mail – isn’t it maybe the finest thing you’ve ever seen on God’s green earth? It’s designer, so I paid like an arm and a boob for it, but it’s so worth it! I’m kind of trying to decide if I can use it now. Like, can one use a diaper bag if they have a 4 year old? (As opposed to a 4 MONTH old?) C’mon, the kid might want some cheerios, and who knows maybe he still needs a bib! I don’t know how I’m going to wait until Baby A gets here…it’s so beautiful…

Hope ya’ll have fun weekend plans. My sissy is flying in from Denver for the weekend, so I should have fun with her and my other sistas. We’re going tonight to see the new adaptation of “Jane Eyre,” and I’m excited. I’ve read the book twice, and maybe I’m a hopeless sap, but this particular love story thrills me. A forbidden love, a crazy lady in the attic, a house fire, seething sexual tension; I mean, what more could you want?

Have fun! Stay safe!  Use protection!  Ruv roo.
(Two posts in less than 24 hours? Is the old Blogging Brie returning?)
PS - A Vegas/cruise vacation post is coming anon!

22.5 Weeks

Here I am at 22.5 weeks pregnant.  (Excuse Obama jabbering on in the background.)  Several people have remarked in the past couple of days how much my tummy seems to have grown, and I completely agree.  There is definitely and absolutely no hiding that I am pregnant now.

This past week or so has been great, pregnancy-wise.  It is the least anxious I've been since I found out I was knocked up, in early December.  I rented from a website a fetal heart monitor, so every morning and night I can find Lil' A's heartbeat and rest assured that she is still thriving and growing.  Now I'm wondering why I didn't rent one earlier, as it has significantly decreased my anxiety.  I love it!

I've also felt her movements start to get stronger and increase in frequency, and a few days ago, Brandon was even able to feel her kick for the first time.  It was awesome, we totally had A Moment.  :)

...I'm just going to try to enjoy these next few weeks, as I know that when the 3rd timester begins, I'll have a whole new slew (rhyming: two points!) of things to complain about, which includes, but is not limited to: frequency of urination (if that's possible), back pain (it gets bad), an increase in hormones, and yo' mama.

I look pretty happy though, right?  I am.  :)

Kendall Day

Happy Kendall Day.

I love you, Baby Girl.

I remembered her today by releasing a white balloon.  I gave that balloon a little kiss and watched it sail up to the sky.

She'd be one today.  A whole year old.  She'd be grinning and giggling and tottering around, learning to walk.  I think of all I'm missing, and I ache.  But she's happy.  I know it.  And that makes it okay.

And I'm happy I had her for as long as I did.  And I'll see her again.

Happy birthday, baby.