Hot child in the city

Nearly every day I am going back and forth between sobbing into a size newborn diaper and swaddling blanket and being completely marveled by my growing tiny human. It's a conundrum I must say.

She explores, she walks, she runs, she waddles, she sways, she to- and fros-. I am amazed by this little person who is developing before my eyes. It's one of those things that stops your heart and widens your eyes. 

But every once in a while, she looks around to find me. She gives me a wave and makes sure that I am near. For as much as she is developing her independence, she still needs her mama. It's a good thing that I am planning on bunking with her in her college dorm.

I mean it about moving away to college with her. 

Fun in the sun

This was one of those particularly beautiful San Francisco weekends. The sun was shining, there was a light breeze, the grass was (actually) dry and perfect for bare feet. So yesterday, we watched The Masters tournament with our good friends Grace and Brian, had a lovely brunch, and drank (read, guzzled) some John Dalys. Yum! 

Of course, we took advantage of the perrrrrrrfect weather and stomped around on the grass for a while. We played some ball - foot, tennis, and smash - and Emma officially decided that she much prefers the concrete sidewalk to itchy grass. What do yah know. My soul twin Grace is also an obsessive iPhonetographer and snapped some gooduns of our Sunday Funday.

She was debating on whether this grass was going to swallow her whole or not. I think the jury is still out on this one. 

I found the patch of shade to hang out under as my skin acclimated to the sunshine. My LA-bred skin needs to remember its roots. 

As my friend Allisun would say, "She was walking around like she invented it." 

I am currently the undefeated champion of smash ball. Jealous?

We tuckered her out.

Well, another textbook sunshiney day is behind us. It was completely worth the butt grass stains and getting smacked in the back with a tennis ball. 

14/52

Despite what you may believe about new parenthood, we don't actually get to go on many snazzed-up date nights. Shocking, I know. If we want to go out sans baby, we have to arrange some sitting or play hooky from school/work while she's at daycare. But because Emma is such a scrumptious ball of squishy goodness, we usually just take her along on date night. She usually gets us better service and extra bread. Can I get an Amen?

Well, on Saturday I was experiencing some cabin fever and general angst so Paul (the wonderful man he is) planned an impromptu date night for one tired mama. He did some research previously (GASP, I know) about some places he wanted to take me to and made a quick ressy at this amazing ocean-front restaurant in Pacifica. Swoon.

And because I am a crazy mamarazzi, we squeezed in a pre-dinner photo session. This photo was particularly heart melting. DON'TCHATHINK? We had an absolutely marvelous time. The food was delicious, the view was glorious, and the company was perfect. 

Okay you're gagging now. Have a great weekend my friends! 

Don't forget to check out the entire 52 project here, wee!

12/52 and 13/52

The past couple of weeks have been a whirlwind to say the least. We spent my Spring break with our families in Southern California and I have been on my oral surgery rotation at SF general hospital, whew! But that’s for another time. Giddy up.

12/52 Emma spent our whole trip walking around and exploring. Since mastering walking/waddling, she has been determined to circumnavigate the globe on foot. I don’t have the heart to tell her about those little oceans. She was particularly interested in my mother’s rose and vegetable gardens. Those fetching flowers were quite fragrant, don’t you think Emma? 

13/52 We received another batch of hand-me-downs from my generous sister-in-law. She is always spoiling us with adorable clothing that her little ones have outgrown and I am eternally grateful for the never-ending supplies of cute clothing. This perfect onsie a la Dr. Seuss is one of my favorites of all of ever. However, no amount of delightful clothing will distract me from that fuzz ball of head hair that she has been rocking lately. Master flufferson at your service. 

Happy Saturdaaaaaeeee!

Frenemies and a fitness funk

Okay, ya’ll I am going to admit something.

I think the phrase diet and exercise should be considered a dirty phrase. Like, gag me with a spoon.

Let me take a step back. About two weeks ago, I made the decision to stop pumping during the day and move to only breastfeeding at night on demand and when Emma is fussing/sick. I realized that I was producing so little milk when daytime pumping that when I finally divided it up into her bottles for daycare, it was like a splash - a smidgen, a tidbit - of BM into her formula. I decided that it was not worth the time and energy spent trying to find pumping spaces while busy at clinic all day for that amount of milk. I much prefer the bonding aspect of breastfeeding than the actual milk production part. 

You’re like, “Oh Lord, is she done talking about breastfeeding yet?” 

Well after I said farewell, peace, and blessings to my dear friend the pump, I had an epiphany. 

Damn, now I need to start watching what I eat.

I know when you are pregnant and breastfeeding you’re supposed to have a “healthy diet” and “eat healthy foods” and blah, blah, blah but what pregnancy and breastfeeding meant to me was GIVE ME ALL THE FOOD.

I also pushed regular exercise off my “to-do list” and moved it to my “haha, you’re hilarious to-don’t list”. Call it a fitness funk, if you will. I also haven’t thought about the calorie content, fat percentages, carb load, and sugar saturation of any food item that has entered my pie hole in like one million decades. Well, since before the bun started baking in the oven.

Diet is a four-letter word. And portion control is my frenemy. 

Welp, no matter how many tantrums I throw or how much I protest, I need to get my couch-warming bottom up and moving and get my portion sizes down to normal human consumption. 

Side note, God bless the breastfeeding calorie burn. I will miss you more than I miss maternity stretchy leggings. 

You’re like, “How are we not at the end of this post yet? END PLEASE.”

I know you were so looking forward to my awkward bathroom mirror selfie. You’re welcome. 

I have put it in my mind to get my ish together in the *shiver* diet and exercise *gag* department. I have a food and fitness tracker app front and center on my phone, set a daily steps goal, and actually weighed myself *gasp*. I set a daily calorie goal and a weekly fitness goal and am ready to stay accountable, hence the oh so flattering selfie, rolls and all. 

And of course, I mean my belly jelly rolls and not the buttered rolls that I wish I was eating right now. 

That means a lot more meal prep at home, portion control, getting my butt out of bed earlier to squeeze in some yoga in the mornings, skippity doo dah-ing to the gym, and keeping accountable. 

Ugh, I need to clean my mirror. 

Any who, I hope you’ll support me in these goals o’ mine. Thanks buds.

Samantha out.