The good thing about my birthday this year is that Greis was able to come visit for the long weekend, and it’s been a ton of fun having her here. Lucy is still in her all-mommy, all-the-time phase, but Catie only wants Greis to snuggle with her at bedtime, she doesn’t want me at all. Which, you know, is TOTALLY FINE with me. I don’t mind the rejection. Especially when it means I get the chance to do things like, oh, take a shower.

It’s been pretty mellow this weekend. We met up with my cousin Cat and took the kids bowling on Friday night, which was fun. And on Saturday, I got a baby-sitter and had a girls’ night out with Greis, Cat, Trish, Erin, and Amber. It was nice to have a night out with just adults. There were a couple of kids in the restaurant, and every time they acted up, I was just relieved that the shrieking voices didn’t belong to either of my kids, and I didn’t have to react or respond at all.

The one downside of the evening took place as we were leaving. I went to the ladies’ room, and a woman in front of me offered me her stall. I was like, “That’s ok, I’m just… waiting?” She gestured at my stomach and said, “Are you sure?” Realizing what she meant, I said, “Oh, I’m not pregnant.” She looked mortified, so to try to make her feel better (WHY do I feel the need to make HER feel better??), I said, “That’s ok, I just had a baby.” Which, uh, yeah. *cough*7monthsago*cough*

So. Perhaps it’s time to start working out again, methinks?

Anyway, here’s to 36. It’s going to be a year of first-time milestones (e.g., I am now the age I will be when I get divorced), and not all of them are happy ones, but hopefully the positive will far outweigh the negative. Here’s hoping.

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I have always been somewhat under-endowed in the boob department. I technically wear a B cup, but I don’t fill it out all the way. I’m pretty sure that if you yelled into my bra, you’d hear an echo. Last month, my girls over at Room 704 did a “boob collage” photo (don’t get excited, it’s just cleavage, it doesn’t involve nudity). And I realized that I couldn’t participate because the only way I can get cleavage is if I put on a push-up bra, lean waaaay over, and then squeeze my boobs together with one hand and take the picture with the other hand. It’s just too damn much work.

The funny thing is that if you met me, you might not know just how tiny my girls are, because I only own super-padded push-up bras. They make me feel a little more equally-distributed. I’ve told Dave (numerous times) that as soon as we’re done having kids, I am getting the Mommy Lift, and I do not feel even slightly guilty or anti-feminist by admitting that I want plastic surgery. I don’t give a flip what society thinks I should look like, I just want to like what I see when I look in the mirror.

But I had whole new revelation of embarrassment about my boobs last night. I’ve been doing this couch-to-5K thing for over two months now, and one thing that’s always bothered me is how much my chest hurts when I run. It feels like I have a big rock in each of my lungs. The weird thing is that I never get that sensation when I do the 30-Day Shred, even though I’m breathing just as hard during that workout. I figured that maybe it was the difference between being inside versus outdoors – our house is air-conditioned, but there are allergens in the air outside, that kind of thing.

Last night, though, I went for a run and I didn’t have the lung pain at all. Weird, right? I realized during my second run interval, though, that I forgot to put my falsies in my sports bra. I never use them at home (i.e., when I’m doing the Shred), but if I’m going for a run or going to the gym, I use them because otherwise my sports bra flattens me out so much that I look like a 12 year-old boy. Or rather, a 12 year-old boy with a muffin top. Which is kind of disturbing.

So, apparently the source of my chest pain was NOT due to being out of shape, but because I essentially turned my sports bra into a tourniquet that was putting extra pressure on my chest. Brilliant.

If you need me today, I’ll be shopping for a pre-padded sports bra. And I guess I’ll leave my bra inserts for Catie to play with. She loves them – she calls them “Mommy’s Boobs” and likes to run around holding them on the sides of her head like Princess Leia hairbuns. She also likes to take my black Wonderbra and wear it on her head because it makes her look like she has Minnie Mouse ears. Strange kid, but you have to give her points for creativity.

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I’ve always thought that I know what diet I need to do to lose weight: low-carb works for me. Back in the old days (read: before I had a kid), I could just chuck all the bread, cookies, chips, and other starches from my pantry and I’d guarantee to drop a few pounds quickly. (The problem, before my gastric bypass, was that would be all I’d lose – a few pounds. That was all I could ever lose on any diet or exercise plan. Which is sort of frustrating when you need to lose 100+ pounds.)

In the last couple of years, I’ve tried to do a low-carb diet again on several occasions. And the longest I’ve ever managed to stick to it is about two weeks, tops. I couldn’t figure out what was wrong with me. I used to be really good at sticking to diets. I never cheated, ever, and I always stuck to the plan. What the hell changed?

Oh, that’s right, I had a kid. Who eats carbs for roughly 90% of her caloric intake. So I can’t get rid of all the bread and crackers and other carb-y snacks. My old trick of “just don’t have it in the house and you’ll be fine” no longer applies.

I had to find a new diet, one that would allow me to have carbs on occasion. Which is why I signed up for Weight Watchers Online. I am far too lazy to go to Weight Watchers meetings, and I kind of have a weird aversion to that whole support group environment anyway (don’t ask me why). But the online plan has a lot of information, and the whole “points” system is actually not as horrible as I originally thought. (There’s even an iPhone app so I can track my points while I’m out. Very nice. I guess they had to compete with the “LoseIt!” app.)

I’ve been on it for a week now, and I like it. I’ve also lost 5 pounds – I don’t expect to maintain that rate; in my experience, I always lose a lot of weight at first (because of the shock to your system, I guess) and then it slooooows down. Still, I’m not going to complain about 5 pounds. It’s a good start. And I still get to eat little sweets here and there, and I don’t have to feel like I’m cheating – or more specifically like, “oh well, I’ve blown it, might as well pig out now.” I just allow for those points out of my daily allotment, and I move on.

So, it’s good so far. We’ll see how it goes. I’m cautiously optimistic.

On the exercise front, I’m still working out most days. I typically either do the 30-Day Shred or the Couch-to-5K workout. But I think I have to give Jillian Michaels credit for massively increasing my endurance. I’d been stuck on week 3 of the couch-to-5K program for weeks, because no matter how hard I tried, I physically could not run for more than 3 minutes straight. I tried week 4 a few times, but I could never do those 5-minute run intervals. But this week, I finally did it. I ran for 5 minutes straight without stopping. FOR THE FIRST TIME IN MY LIFE. And I know, I know, 5 minutes, whoopee. But trust me, it was a very big deal for me.

Yesterday I decided to mix it up and take Catie for a bike ride to the playground (meaning me on the bike, her in the bike trailer). And you know what? I know that this might cast a shadow of doubt on my genetic connection to some people in my family, but I haaaaate riding a bike. Seriously. I absolutely can’t stand it. I would so much rather walk (or run), I can’t even tell you. And because of my funky patella issues, it hurts my knees just as much as running. Plus, even though I invested in the super-cushioned gel/padded seat, it also hurts my girly bits. So what’s the point of THAT? No. Not a fan of the bike at all. I think I just like to have my feet on the ground.

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So, next Friday, Catie & I will be hopping on a plane headed south. My mom is going to meet us there, and we’re sharing a hotel room, so it should be a lot of fun. And as much as I love my family and look forward to seeing them, I’m mostly excited about the food. New Orleans has some of the best food in the world.

Oh, and when I told Catie that we’re going to the city where Princess Tiana (from “The Princess & The Frog”) lives? She responded, “I need a princess costume.” Umm. This is the first time she’s expressed any interest whatsoever in dressing up like a princess. I kind of figured this phase was coming eventually, and I swore I wouldn’t fight it. Most girls go through a princess phase, and most of them outgrow it in due time.

(Yes, we bought the t-shirt and the DVD yesterday, as soon as it was released. I figure that as far as Disney princesses go, Tiana is probably the most empowered of all of them, and besides, the music in the movie doesn’t make me want to bash my head into a wall.)

Anyway, Catie happens to be lucky that her Mimi (my mom) is an excellent seamstress, because she is currently whipping up a custom-made princess costume for her as I type.

As for me, I was thinking about the fact that we’ll probably be taking pictures while we’re there, and lately I’ve been looking a bit like the sad slacker mom who doesn’t make much of an effort anymore. I made an appointment to get my hair cut, and yesterday I went to get my eyebrows waxed. I decided to try out a new place, because it’s closer to our new house and I’m lazy, and… hmm. Ok, well, let’s just look at the photographic evidence.

This is what I looked like before the eyebrow wax.

Now, I realize that my eyebrows are way too heavy and they’re a big ol’ mess. So I needed to get them tidied up. I know that. But I think my eyebrow waxer lady yesterday might’ve been just a little bit overzealous.

I look a little bit startled, don’t I? I mean, I’m intentionally not doing anything with my face in this picture, and still… Yeah. (Aside: good GOD, I look tired. And you can totally see my lazy eye in this picture. Lovely.)

I don’t think I’m at the point of breaking out the eyebrow pencil yet. But it’s weird. My face feels sort of naked and air-conditioned all of a sudden.

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For the record, I don’t encourage the Disney princess stuff, but I figure that most little girls go through a princess phase at some point or another. And if it makes her happy, fine. I don’t mind the movie that much, at least the music is nice. A lot of the Disney movies grate on my feminist nerve, but I’ve come to the conclusion that Sleeping Beauty is really not all that bad. Because really, the three fairies are the ones who save the day. The prince would’ve stayed chained up in the witch’s dungeon forever if they hadn’t sprung him from his cell, plus they save his butt about a dozen times on his way to rescue Sleeping Beauty. (Remember? They turn the arrows being shot at him into flowers, the boulders into bubbles, etc.) Heck, they were the ones who gave him the sword and shield he needed to kill the witch. So yeah, Flora, Fauna, and Merriweather can rock on with their bad selves. They kick butt in their own little flibbertygibbet fairy way.

And ok, yeah, the whole idea that she meets the prince one time and decides she’s in love with him, and the presumption that of course she’ll be married off on her sixteenth birthday… yeah. I know. But they do say something about it being the 14th century, and really, both of those plot points are no more absurd than anything in Romeo and Juliet. Why not get married at 16, since the Black Death will probably kill you before you turn 30? Go for it. Carpe diem, whatever.

Anyway, since I’ve now seen Sleeping Beauty approximately 10,000 times in the past few weeks (how else do you think I came up with such a thorough analysis of how it isn’t as anti-feminist as it might seem at first glance?), I decided it was time to try something else. When I was pregnant, I bought a ton of movies on DVD for Catie to watch when she was older. I have E.T., Dumbo, Lady & the Tramp, Charlotte’s Web, Mary Poppins, Wizard of Oz, you name it. But since Catie is kind of digging the whole princess thing, I suddenly remembered that we have both Cinderella and the Little Mermaid. Score!

(Don’t get me started about how awful an example Ariel is for little girls. She gives up her freaking voice in order to get the man of her dreams. I know. I KNOW!! But the music is gorgeous and fun, and right now I figure that Catie is too little to understand the plot anyway.)

So I went looking for either movie, and… they’re gone. As in, not on the bookshelf that contains all of our DVDs. And nowhere else in the house as far as I can tell. And now that I think about it, I haven’t seen them since we moved in this house. I can’t think of any other movies off the top of my head that are lost, but I’m just baffled. Did the movers lose yet another box? Were the DVDs in a miscellaneous box that got shoved in the attic? I don’t have a clue. And I’m feeling a little ridiculous, since we moved here almost seven months ago, and I’m just now noticing things that are missing.

Oh well. Seems we’re stuck with Sleeping Beauty in the meantime.
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Quick note on the health front: We’ve been really lucky with this cold, Catie’s only had a few minor asthma attacks which have cleared up with a dose of albuterol. She’s been generally pretty perky and happy through all of it, she’s been sleeping semi-decently, and she’s kept her appetite. So overall, it hasn’t been that bad. I keep waiting for it to take a turn for the worse, and maybe she will, but she’s on Day 5 of the gunk and so far, so good.

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Also, when Cate and I fly to Mississippi next week, we’re going to be meeting up with a few girls from high school, who I’ve reconnected with via the Miracle That Is Facebook. It’s not a bad thing, I’m actually kind of excited about it. But I feel like I need to look cute and make a good impression since I haven’t seen any of them in about fifteen years or so. Maybe it’s because in high school, I was sort of a non-entity; I only had a couple of friends, I didn’t date at all, I wasn’t involved in any extracurricular activities. Basically, because I was fat, I tried to be as invisible as possible. So I’d like to show that I’m cute and sassy and fun and all that good stuff.

Really, I’m sure that our get-together will be fine. After all, we’ve all grown up since high school. One girl who used to be head cheerleader is now a lawyer working for the state attorney general’s office. I’d say it’s a safe bet that she isn’t the same person she was 15 years ago either, right? And we all have little girls around the same age, so it should be a lot of fun. I’m just being unnecessarily neurotic.

But anyway, back to the issue of The Frump: I recently found out that one of my neighbors is a hairdresser. I wouldn’t have booked an appointment with her, because what if she sucked, and then trying to explain why I never went back to her would be super-awkward. But she did my next-door neighbor’s hair, and she looked fantastic, so I thought what the heck, and I asked for her card.

Today I went to her salon and got a haircut and an eyebrow wax. It’s kind of amazing how something so simple can make me feel so much better about myself. Seriously, I feel about a hundred times less frumpy now than I did this morning.

You can’t really tell in that picture since Cate is obscuring half of my head, but I think my haircut is basically “The Rachel,” just a little bit longer. I like it a lot so far, although the real test will be to see how it looks when I have to style it myself later.

So, yay! I have groomed eyebrows and a new haircut, which cost less than half what it cost me to get the exact same thing done in Washington, and I’m feeling pretty cute for the first time in a long time.

Cate says, “Just don’t go thinking you’re the cutest one in the house, lady, cuz you ain’t.”

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It’s weird that it’s been kind of a non-event on my mental radar. I’m really excited about Cate’s first birthday in a couple of weeks, so I kind of keep forgetting about mine. Strange how that works, isn’t it? Besides, it’s not like 32 is some big landmark number.

Looking back at my blog entries from last year, I see that I forgot about my birthday last year as well. Of course, that was because I was so preoccupied with feeling miserable and wanting my pregnancy to be over and done with.

I do have a couple of nice birthday things going on, though. I went shopping yesterday and got myself some jeans, thanks to my sister. I’m getting a massage and a facial, courtesy of my parents and Dave, respectively. And tomorrow night, I’m having dinner with Kris. So it’s definitely a lot better than last year – if nothing else, I’m at least going to get out of the house.

Plus, Cate is at daycare today and I don’t have any major pressing deadlines going on at work (at least not right now), so I can kind of enjoy some Mommy Downtime. I think I might take a bubble bath and a nap. Happy birthday to me, indeed.

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