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I saw a therapist for the first time today. Well, not the first time ever, I did some therapy years ago, but this was my first session with this particular therapist. There are a lot of reasons behind this, most of which I don’t really want to get into on the blog, because I’m really just not the “bare your soul online” type of blogger.

(NOTE: I have absolutely nothing against the “bare your soul” bloggers. I read the hell out of their sites and I fully appreciate what they do. That’s just not me. This blog is totally not anonymous at all, and there are some things I prefer to keep private.)

At some point during this session, she asked me what I do for “me time,” to unwind and recharge. And I was stumped.

So she rephrased it, “Well, what kinds of things do you enjoy, that you’d like to do more of?”

Ummm.

Huh.

I have no idea.

It reminded me of something that Dave said once, which was basically that while I’m a great mom, I never stop being a mom.

I guess I never really thought about it that way before. Apparently at some point in the last four years, I’ve become so entrenched in Mommy Mode that I seem to have lost… me.

Basically, this is my life:
* Mornings: Get up, get dressed, get Catie dressed, get her off to daycare and myself to work.
* Daytime: work. (And I’m NOT complaining, because I do really love my job.)
* Evenings: get us all fed, do the bedtime ritual and allow Catie to stall about going to sleep for literally hours because I feel guilty for not seeing her all day. Then when she finally falls asleep, sometimes I stay up long enough to watch a TV show or talk to my mom on the phone, and other times I just crash for the night.
* Weekends: Dave and I clean the house, do the grocery shopping, and try to get us prepared for the week ahead. And squeeze in some type of fun outing for Catie if we can find the time.

That’s not to say I never have fun or that I’m depressed, because I do have fun and I don’t really feel depressed at all. (Well, I did after the therapy session, but I’m talking in general.) Four year-olds are freaking hilarious and I absolutely love that I get to hang out with this amazing little person and watch her as she develops. The vast majority of the time, I think being a mom is awesome. Of course, she has her tantrums and her moments of testing boundaries, and I get exasperated and cranky, just like all moms do.

For the most part, though, I consider myself to be relatively happy. I have a great job, a beautiful house, I love my kid, I have another (apparently healthy, knock on wood) baby on the way, I’m married to a really great guy, my whole family is awesome. What’s to complain about?

But there’s something missing here. The fact is, I don’t really ever take time for myself to just do my own thing. Sure, I might tell Dave to keep Catie downstairs for 20 minutes so I can take a shower in silence. Or I might go to the grocery store alone. But that’s it, really.

Just about everyone I know has a hobby, some sort of outlet. Dave goes hiking. My mom loves to sew. My dad plays golf. How come it took a paid professional for me to notice that I basically failed to develop any outside interests of my own? Is this whole “I don’t have any sense of self” issue something that all moms of young children experience? I’m guessing that surely my experience is not unique here.

But the bigger question is looming: how do I fix it when I don’t have a clue what types of things I would like to do, given the opportunity?

How do you find yourself, when you didn’t even know you were lost?

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I turned 35 yesterday. I suppose I should be happy, since I now finally qualify for that “advanced maternal age” flag that’s already on my chart at my OB’s office. (Side rant: who on earth came up with that phrase? It makes me feel like one of those 60 year-old women who has her own grandbabies through IVF. It’s CREEPY.)

Anyway, you know, it’s fine. Everybody gets older, yadda yadda. I’m not exactly having a mid-life crisis about it over here.

And I have to say, one of the coolest things about social media? All the “happy birthday” wishes you get on Twitter and Facebook. That’s pretty awesome.

It was really nice that my birthday fell on a Sunday this year. We went out for breakfast, where Catie kept Dave and me entertained by making all kinds of funny faces.

(Lest you think my child is always this adorable and charming, I have to add that this was a TOTAL 180 from the night before, in which she and I stopped at a local pizzeria to pick up some dinner, and she was rude and insufferable the entire time we were there. Three year-olds are unpredictable, man.)

After breakfast, we walked around downtown Apex for a while. We’ve lived here for two and a half years, and we’d never done that before. Dave and I have talked a few times about how we don’t really feel as connected to this area as we did in Seattle, and I think a lot of it is our own fault, for not making the effort. And it turns out? The old-timey downtown part of our town is really cute, even though most of the shops were closed because it was Sunday. It didn’t matter, it was a gorgeous day outside, and the walk was nice. And we’ll be sure to do it again sometime when the stores are open, because there are a ton of neat places that we’d like to check out.

We hit the grocery store and headed home, where I got Catie settled on the couch with a Scooby-Doo movie, and I got my favorite part of my entire day: A NAP. I almost never take naps, and it seems to be something that pregnant ladies desperately need, so that was fabulous.

When I woke up, Catie and I put on our matching aprons and made my birthday cake together; she’s turning into quite a little sous-chef, that kid. It was strawberry with white frosting and pink decorations – guess who picked THAT out? Then she told me what the cake should say:

“Happy birthday Mommy. Love, Catie.”

Um, sorry, Dave? There wasn’t room to fit his name on there anyway.

I have to add, this is NOT the first example of how horrible my handwriting is when it comes to writing things in frosting. Witness the cake I made the first year that Dave and I were dating (that’s 2004, for those of y’all keeping track):

Yeah. And he married me anyway. (After he asked me why I drew intestines on his cake – it was supposed to be a heart!!)

And now you know why we’ll be ordering Catie’s cake for her birthday party in two weeks.

Later, I got my present from Dave. He always gives really awesome gifts, and this year was no exception: I got a treadmill! Well, technically I got a photo of a treadmill because the real one is stuck in a snowstorm somewhere in the midwest, but it’s on its way here! But I’ve been asking for a treadmill for ages, so that was perfect.

The thing is, I loved doing the Couch-to-5K last year, and I want to start it up again after Baby 2.0 is born. But I am also a big whiny baby about running if the weather is anything less than perfect. If it’s too hot or too cold, I’m probably not going to do it. And I learned last year that I actually do like running on a treadmill, but I tend to get lazy about it if I have to get dressed, find my membership card, drive 10 minutes to the gym, etc. So the idea is that having the treadmill in the house will force me to stop making excuses. (That actually does work with me too, it’s why I’m much more likely to stick with a workout DVD than a gym class.) Plus, I figure that with two kids in the house, it might just be easier for me to squeeze in a quick workout if I can do it without leaving the premises.

So, treadmill! Yay!

We finished off the night with burgers, fries, birthday cake (of course) and “The Social Network,” which was a really good movie.

All in all? 35 is pretty good so far. No complaints here.

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I don’t really want to write about how I’m siiiiick and I don’t feeeel good, but yeah, that’s basically what’s going on here. I went to the doctor on Wednesday and got some (pregnancy-safe) antibiotics, so I’m starting to feel a little better. Hooray for that.

I honestly would’ve gone to the office today, except I still have these frequent coughing fits (thank you, bronchitis!), and that just seems sort of rude when you sit in an open cubicle environment, no? I mean, the guy who trims his fingernails in his cubicle makes me want to claw my eyeballs out of my face, so I imagine that this whole lung-hacking noise that I make every few minutes would be, uh, somewhat distracting for my co-workers, to put it mildly. Anyway, I have a remote desktop connection to my office PC, so I’m still getting all of my work done, even though I’m not physically there. It’s fine.

So! Onto other stuff:
1.) Tomorrow we’re taking Catie to see “Toy Story 3 on Ice.” None of us have ever been to an ice show, so that should be exciting. I’m curious to see if the ice show makes me weep like the movie does. (And remembering how Catie tends to get anxious in crowded theaters, just like her dad, I bought nosebleed seats way in the back. Which is actually kind of lucky, since it’ll also ensure that I’ll be far enough away that I won’t distract any ice skaters with my hacking cough.)

2.) In the spirit of good-behavior motivation, my sister bought us The Elf on The Shelf. I know it’s really popular and a lot of parents say that their kids love it (and I appreciate the gift – THANK YOU, TRACY!), but… does anyone else find it creepy? The whole “there’s a dead-eyed elf doll watching everything you do & reporting it back to Santa while you’re asleep” thing? And then he’s in a different location every day? I admit that I have issues with dolls (that most recent episode of “Hoarders” where the woman had collected over 5,000 porcelain dolls? I’m going to have nightmares about that house for the rest of my life). And I tend to think elves are a little creepy too. So combine the two and make an elf doll? That’s basically a potential horror movie to me.

Catie likes the book a lot, but she seems a little bit scared of the elf himself. I’m going to see how it goes the next couple of days, but if she continues to be nervous about the elf, I think Santa Claus is going to be short-staffed and have to call some of the elves back to the North Pole to help make toys, and our elf is going to go away. Christmas is supposed to be all about fun and magic, not anxiety-provoking or scary.

And for the record, when I described it to my mom, she had the same “NO NO NO THAT IS CREEPY AS HELL” reaction that I did. So maybe there’s a genetic link there with the elf doll thing.

3.) It’s been really nice having my mother-in-law here this week, especially while I’ve been sick. Catie goes to climb in bed with Grandma first thing in the morning, rather than coming to see me or Dave, so it’s nice to have a little reprieve. Plus, my MIL has been making dinner every night, so that’s been fabulous, just to have one less thing to worry about.

4.) It’s freaking cold here this week, way colder than a typical North Carolina December (although, to be fair, it’s only our third winter in this state, and we spent most of last December in England). It kinda makes me wish I were in Las Vegas with some of my favorite people right now, but alas. Pregnant ladies with tight Christmas budgets don’t get weekends in Vegas. Oh well. Maybe next time.

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I have been procrastinating about Catie’s first trip to the dentist for ages. I know how she freaks out when presented with something new and unfamiliar, and I was dreading it. But we’ve been talking about it for a while – how the dentist cleans your teeth and makes sure they’re strong and healthy, and there are NO BOO-BOOS (read: shots) at the dentist, so it’s great! fun! times! Yaaaay, dentists!!!

She didn’t buy it. I can’t say I blamed her. I hate the dentist myself. But she should’ve had her first dentist appointment ages ago, so I finally sucked it up and made the appointment.

We talked about it a lot ahead of time. I told her that she’d get a prize afterward if she was good – I remembered that her cousin’s dentist had a treasure chest of prizes to choose from, and I assumed that our pediatric dentist would be similarly hooked up. And then afterward, we’d go out for a special Mommy & Catie lunch, just the two of us, and then she could go to daycare and tell all the kids about her exciting morning. She seemed sort of cautiously ok with that plan.

I have to say, I think we had the nicest dental hygienist on earth, and I will praise them to the skies just for this one lady alone. She was great with Catie, showed her all of her tools ahead of time and explained what each one did and reassured her that nothing was going to hurt. I kept waiting for Catie’s freak-out, and it never happened. She lay down in the chair, she wore the little light-blocking sunglasses, she opened her mouth like a good little patient, and she giggled through most of the appointment. To say that I was shocked would be an understatement.

The hygienist did her thing, the dentist checked her out and said she looked great, and they sent us on our way. And that’s the one part of the trip where things started to fall apart. Catie wanted to see the prize chest. There wasn’t one. There were some dinky 10-cent plastic rings and some funny pencils, but that was about it. Catie was not happy. I whispered to her to just say “no thank you” and that I’d take her to the store to get a prize when we left. I mean, seriously, it’s my own fault for talking up the prize aspect so much, I felt like I had to follow through on my end of the bargain.

There’s a Wal-Mart down the street from the dentist’s office. We headed over there, made a beeline for the exact toy that I knew Catie wanted (for those of you who’ve seen Toy Story 3, she’s been asking for Buttercup, the unicorn, ever since we saw the movie), and I bought it for her on the spot.

I love this picture of her because she was trying to show off both her unicorn and her “pretty white teeth!”, but the lighting is horrible because the sun was behind her & the iPhone doesn’t have a flash. Sigh.

Then, since she’d asked for pizza for our Special Mommy & Catie Lunch Date, I saw that there was a pizzeria a couple of doors down from Wal-Mart. We walked over, bought 2 slices, and had a lovely lunch.

She was so excited to go to daycare afterward to tell all the kids about the dentist. I tell you, that girl never ceases to amaze me.

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Total non-sequitur conversation in the parking lot after her dentist visit. (This doesn’t relate to anything, I just think it’s hilarious.)

Me: …blah-blah-blah’ing about what a good job she did and how brave she was and how I’m so, so proud of her…

Catie: Yeah. [pause] Pop-Pop is my friend.

Me: [kind of thrown by the change of topic, but ooookay] Yes, sweetie, Pop-Pop is your friend, and he loves you very, very much.

Catie: Pop-Pop and Mimi are gonna come to our house.

Me: Well, I hope they can come to our house for a visit soon. That’d be nice. And you know, hopefully soon, they’ll sell their house in Mississippi and move up here, and then we’ll be able to see them a lot more often. That’ll be great when that happens, huh?

Catie: Yeah! Maybe we can share with them!

Me: [confused] Share what with them, babe?

Catie: We can share our house with them!

Me: [thinking: yeah, except then your Daddy will divorce me] Well, you know, sweetie, Mimi & Pop-Pop have a lot of stuff, and I don’t think all their stuff would fit into our house with all of our stuff, so they probably need to have their own house.

Catie: Oh. Ok.

Hopefully that’ll settle the issue of my parents moving in with us, because as much as I love them, and I really really do… no. Just no.

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My allergies are still giving me grief, so I’ve been skipping out on running and doing the 30 Day Shred instead. That whole “holy crap I can’t breathe” feeling isn’t quite as awful during the Shred, I guess because the exercises are constantly changing and hurting you in different ways, as opposed to running where you’re just doing the same painful thing for 25 minutes.

And it’s weird, I like them both for different reasons. With running, I get this weird sort of endorphin head rush of, “f*ck yeah, I’m a RUNNER, man. I’m strong! I’m empowered! I can conquer ANYTHING in the WORLD!” So, apparently running gives me delusions of grandeur, because seriously, all I did was run barely 2 miles. We’re hardly talking Marathon Woman over here. But whatever, it’s fun.

Meanwhile, with the Shred, I don’t necessarily get the same rush, but I feel sore all over afterward, which I like because then I feel like, “ooh, I’m toning up these muscles, and these, and these…” So they each have their own perks.

Last night, I did the Shred after Catie got home from daycare, but before dinner. Catie said she wanted to work out with me, so she grabbed my 1-pound weights and jumped in (I’ve upgraded to the 5-pound weights, which make the workout infinitely harder). It’s hilarious because she doesn’t really do any of the moves correctly, but she was so excited that she was doing it with me, and she kept saying, “Mommy, look at me! Look at me!” It actually made the workout harder because I couldn’t stop laughing.

It’s funny, she’s done the Shred with me a few times, but she doesn’t really have the attention span to do the whole video. She does the warm-up, then she wanders off to play with her toys, then she sees me doing something that she thinks looks like fun (i.e., what Jillian calls “squat thrusts” and what Catie calls “frog jumps” – I think Catie’s term is probably more accurate), and she’ll run back over and join in again for a couple of minutes, then she’s off and playing again. Lather rinse repeat.

But last night, when she first got home from daycare & I was putting on my workout clothes, I told her I was going to work out, and she said, “Why you do that?” I have been VERY careful about not saying anything disparaging about my body in front of her, because I don’t want her to take on any of my body image issues as her own. In fact, when she’s jumping around doing the Shred with me, I get really annoyed with Jillian Michaels for talking about burning fat and losing weight – like, SHUT UP, I don’t want those thoughts getting into her head.

So when she asked me, “Why you do that?” I paused for a second to think about it. And I said, “Well, you know how we eat healthy foods like fruits and vegetables so we’ll be healthy and strong? I exercise for the same reason. I need to be strong, so that I can still pick you up and carry you, even now that you’re a big girl.”

She seemed to like that answer. She said, “Yeah, and I am getting sooo big! Right, Mommy?” I agreed with her, and I was feeling all proud of myself and sort of smug, like haha, take THAT, stupid American standards that beauty = thinness! Boo-yah!

Then Catie continued: “Yeah, Mommy. And you getting HUGE!”

Nice. Thanks a lot, kid. Jeez.

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We saw “Toy Story 3″ on Saturday. I cried. And Dave didn’t even make fun of me that much (which means he must’ve thought it was sad too, because normally he mocks me when I cry during movies). Catie is obsessed with the first and second Toy Story movies, and she loved this one, but we had to talk about it a lot afterward. I think some parts of the movie might be upsetting for little kids. But otherwise, the three of us gave it a combined total of six thumbs up.

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I noticed a lot of people did Father’s Day posts, and I felt bad that it didn’t even occur to me. So, happy late Father’s Day to Dave. Catie and I love you to pieces.

I have to say, Sunday was a pretty great day. To celebrate Father’s Day, we went out for breakfast (IHOP, yum), then Dave went home to chill out and have some downtime while I took Catie out to run errands with me. We went to Best Buy to buy Dave’s Father’s Day gift, then we hit Toys R Us to look for a “Slinky Dog” toy from Toy Story. Catie had filled up her reward chart and she said that was the thing she wanted (actually, no, she said she “needed” a Slinky Dog). Of course, Toys R Us was sold out, and I worried she’d have a huge meltdown, so I said, “Hey, they’re out of Slinky Dog here, so let’s go see if another store has it. Come on!” And she… my child… left Toys R Us willingly and without a meltdown. I couldn’t believe it. Reward charts FTW!

Also? Thank the heavens above for Wal-Mart (something I never thought I’d say), because we got the LAST Slinky Dog on the shelf. Catie was so happy that she was an angel for the rest of the day.

We got groceries, brought them home, and then since Catie was too hyper to nap, she came back out with me again to shop for new workout clothes. She sat patiently in the dressing room and told me if she did or didn’t like the clothes I had tried on. (I was only supposed to be looking for workout clothes, but I actually thought this dress looked kind of cute on me and I was thinking about getting it for BlogHer, but Catie said, “No, Mommy. Try something else.” Thanks, kiddo! Way to keep me focused on the task at hand.) It was awesome. We wandered all over the mall and she was the best shopping buddy I could’ve asked for.

And Dave got to play video games all day and take a nap, so I think it was a pretty great Father’s Day for him too.

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In the category of exercise/fitness stuff: A little over a week ago, I ran 20 minutes without stopping for the first time in my life. And it was awesome. But since then, my workouts have been feeling progressively more difficult. On Saturday I tried to run 25 minutes without stopping (which, yeah, that’s hard, but I ran 20 minutes, right? So not THAT much harder!) and I had to stop to catch my breath around minute 15. Ok, no big deal. Then I tried to do that 25-minute run again yesterday and I had to stop to catch my breath 4 different times. WTF? Then this morning I woke up with a nasty cough. Ah, allergies, you evil b*tch. That probably explains my diminished lung capacity. I guess I should maybe pop an extra antihistamine an hour or so before my workout.

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I made these brownies (thanks, Grace!), which sound horrifying, but are actually pretty good. Only, um, the combination of ingredients does lead to some, *ahem*, digestive issues. Let’s just leave it at that, ok? But they ARE yummy and a lot healthier than regular brownies, so… ? Judge for yourself, I suppose. They really taste nothing like the ingredients would have you think.

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I signed Catie up for swimming lessons at the YMCA (our gym), and the classes start in mid-July. But every time we talk about it, she says, “Noooooo! I can’t want to go swimming!” She won’t go to the neighborhood pool with me on the weekends, she won’t wear her swimsuit to daycare on “Water Play Day” (which is basically just playing in the sprinklers, they don’t have a pool). She is terrified of all things water-related, except the bathtub, and she’s not even a big fan of that.

So, I was thinking about withdrawing her from swimming lessons this year. There’s a bunch of kids on the wait list who I know would be happy to take her place, and I haven’t paid for it yet so I won’t lose any money. I’m just not sure if it’s worth putting her through it when she’s clearly so scared and unwilling to try it. Maybe we could try it next year and it’d be easier for her. I do think that learning to swim is one of those basic survival skills that everyone needs. I’m just not sure if she needs it at 3 years old. If any of y’all have any opinions on this, I’d love to hear them. I honestly don’t know what to do.

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I haven’t talked about it much, but I had my IUD taken out last August, which means that Dave and I have theoretically been trying for baby #2 for the last 10 months. And I say theoretically because, well, at first my heart wasn’t really in it. I was so indifferent about having a second kid for so long, and there were months when we didn’t try at the right time because I just didn’t really want to get pregnant at that particular moment. Maybe we were particularly stressed about money that month, maybe I was going through a rough phase with Catie and doubting my ability to survive another child, whatever.

My attitude for the longest time has been, “We’ll have another kid if we’re supposed to have another kid. And if we don’t, then I guess we’re lucky that the one we have is pretty freaking awesome.”

Then something changed. I don’t know exactly what. It could be that I’m barreling down on 35 (“advanced maternal age,” oh no!), or because I realized that Catie will be at least 4 years old by the time we have another baby, or because I suddenly know so. many. people. who are having babies. (Seriously, those are just 3 examples. There’s also at least 2 girls I know from high school who are pregnant right now, and a few other people I know who have had babies in the past 6 months.)

Suddenly, I was hearing about all of these friends of mine being pregnant, and I felt… jealous?

So, for the past couple of months, I’ve been focusing more attention on trying to get pregnant. I’m even considering charting my cycle, since that worked last time. (Funny: I just went looking through my blog archives to see if I could find a post where I talked about charting my cycle, and all I could find was whiny “this isn’t working & I don’t think I’m even ovulating and I’ll never get pregnant, boo hoo!” stuff. Spoiler: I got pregnant the next month.)

And that sort of relates to my recent exercise obsession. See, for those of you who don’t already know this, the last time I was pregnant? Was bad. I got really, really sick during my 3rd trimester, and no one could figure out what was wrong with me. But I lost all of my pregnancy weight while I was still pregnant – which, for the record, is not the ideal weight-loss solution. I mostly lost muscle, not fat. By the time Catie was born, I was so weak that I could barely hold her. It took a long, long time for me to feel “normal” again, energy-wise.

So, this crazy need to work out every day and build my endurance as quickly as possible? A large part of it is because I want to make sure that if/when I get pregnant, I’m starting at a healthier baseline than last time. So if I get sick again, it hopefully won’t have quite such detrimental effects on my health.

We’ll see how it goes. And in the meantime, if any of y’all want to throw out a little “get Cindy knocked up” prayer or thought, I sure wouldn’t mind.

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