Post Pregnancy Body

I consider myself to be a relatively "fit" woman, but after having a baby things just are not the same. This past weekend my husband and I went skiing at Big Powderhorn (BPH). Let me preface this by saying I have only skied safe four times in my life; once was at Crystal Ridge in Franklin which really shouldn't be considered skiing at all compared to this past weekend; Once at Alpine Valley when I was young and probably much less mentally absorbed in the sport which made me a lot better; and twice at BPH for the annual ski trip. The first year we went on this trip my husband thought it was a novel idea to take me down a "more difficult" blue hill for the first run. Things didn't start well as I fell upon getting off the ski lift. Then I looked at the hill and thought "Holy Shit. How am I getting down this thing." I kept a cool head in front of everyone and told myself if I can ski downhill on Wii Fit, I can make it down this hill. I was doing fine until someone was in front of me and I freaked out, started throwing my arms around and bit it hard core. So, this year I finally made the wise decision to take lessons. My brother-in-law Andy and I scored a private lesson from Brad the ski instructor. Two hours later my confidence had risen and I was ready to meet back with Brion.

On a side note I must mention that I absolutely hate more than anything to fail at something. I hate it even more to do so in front of any witnesses. I prefer to become a seasoned pro and then pretend it didn't take forever to get that way. Failing in front of others simply kills my ego and discourages me from trying.

So, I met up with the rest of the group and the first hill we decide to go down leaves me screaming about halfway down the hill. I survived...but barely. We went back up the mountain and started our way down Dynamite. I was doing fine until everyone decided to stop in the middle and wait for those of us who were taking our time getting down the mountain. My anxiety started here. Then we started the second half of the hill and I catch some ice, anxiety rises.....I get cut off three times, anxiety rises....I start going REALLY FAST, fear settles in. I figure the only way out is to fall. I have not mastered this skill and took the fall hard. My mini-yard sale of ski poles were picked up by others but my ego was left on the hill. I called it a day. Here I sit today with a stiff neck, tight calf muscles, and a raging case of embarrassment. Maybe I need to go back to Wii fit to fine tune my skills so I can hone my skills for next year. Either way, at least I didn't look like this on our way home from the hill (Brion is going to love me for posting this pic!)

Brion forgot his sunglasses and couldn't see the road, so he decided this was his best option. NO this is not a joke....but it made my day!!

Idea #2: Cheese Addict???

Is there such as thing as being addicted to cheese? According to the following article, it is entirely possible that I am suffering from this affliction. http://www.care2.com/greenliving/cheese-contains-morphine.html

When Braun turned one month old, he broke out in a rash and was noticeably irritable after eating. I wondered what was going on because I thought babies were supposed to be happy after they ate not scream uncontrollably for an hour. I asked the doctor and she told me to give up cheese. NO. I am not kidding. Let's not forget I LIVE IN WISCONSIN. I mean it's like asking Floridians to give up oranges or Philadelphians to give up cheese steak. I respectfully edited my inner thought of "You have got to be f***ing kidding me" to "Are you serious?" She said to give it a go and see what happens. It worked. My son was healed, but I no longer have anything to eat. I literally eat dairy at every meal. I have started to get incredibly irritable myself because for the past month all I want is an order of fried cheese curds, pizza, greasy garlic bread soaked in butter, nachos...who are we kidding I just want to sit down with a block of cheese and eat away. So, I began to tell my husband that I must be addicted because my mood is all over the place. That's when I came across the aforementioned article. I mean if it's not bad enough the Packers lost this just compounds my problems. I tried vegan cheese; it's not the same. Not even close. In fact I'd rather eat my own hand. Shouldn't I be compensated or something for not eating cheese while living in Wisconsin??? Here's to Braun outgrowing his allergy yesterday.

Idea #1: Criminal Reporter

Since I have become a stay at home mom, I often find myself frequenting stores on a weekly basis. One of my favorites--Target. Most of the time I have a plan and items I actually have to buy; however, there are times I just go there for absolutely no other reason than to pass time and maybe find something I want. My husband loves when I do that, or so I tell myself in order to feel better. I mean it would be better if there weren't three Targets within about ten mintues from my driveway. You can only ask a person to resist the temptation for so long. However, there have been some recent setbacks to my Target visits. About a month ago Braun and I were in the baby aisles looking for some new body wash for his sensitive skin, an actual reason for going, and I bumped my cart into a sketchy guy. He was about 6 feet tall, mid twenties, wearing an open backpack, and pushing an empty cart. My immediate thought was "Where is his girlfriend, wife, baby?" I mean we were in the baby aisles, and he seemed a tad jumpy when I ran into him. I continued on my merry way and kept wandering around until I look up another aisle and I see this same guy shoving stuff in his backpack. I always wondered what I would do if this ever happened, but I was frozen in my spot staring at him. I didn't approach him, call for security or perform some miraculous citizen's arrest. I mean I had my baby with me; I have more important things to think about than becoming the next Stephanie Plum. He turned around and saw me and started to make his way out of the store. I stood there for a second and thought about what I was supposed to do; I decided to follow him to the front of the store and turn him in.

When I actually found someone who worked there and pointed out the said stealer, she said "people do that all the time" as if it was no big deal. He continued right on out of the door and nothing was done. I never knew it was so easy to steal from stores. Maybe I should think about this for the safe twenty times a month I visit Target. Turns out being a law-abiding citizen did nothing for me other than make me sweat more than normal on a routine trip to Target.