Chicken Legs

No, I am not talking about myself, although I wish I were. Little Drew went in for his two month checkup and weighed in at a whopping 8 lbs. 3 oz. For those of you that don’t know, he weighed 8 lbs 0 oz. when he was born. That is a weight gain of 3 oz. in two months. That ranked him in the zero percentile for his weight. I had two different nurses ask me if Drew was in for his two week checkup. It started to worry me. I thought something could be wrong. However, thinking back on my other babies they weren’t much for than 9 lbs. at their two month checkups either. My babies generally stay small until they get to be six months.

The doctor wasn’t as concerned as the nurses appeared to be. He said his head/brain were growing and he was getting longer so there didn’t seem to be a reason to worry. He did want me to make sure and give him an increased calorie version of formula (or an extra 1/2 scoop of regular formula) per bottle. He also wanted me to add one extra feeding per day. He anticipates by his four month checkup he will be right on track.

In the few short days that have passed since his checkup it already seems like he has plumped up. He never fusses and he sleeps through the night. He is the happiest baby so it seems odd that he would be under weight. Below are a couple pictures of those little chicken legs.

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Shlumpadinka

Shlumpadinka – Oprah uses this word to describe a woman who dresses like she has completely given up.

So my neighbor told me the other day that I was a “shlumpadinka”. Initially I had no idea what the word meant and after she told me I thanked her for the compliment and went about my day…not really. It actually bothered me a little until I realized she was sort of right. I certainly have a lot of “shlumpadinka” days. I wouldn’t go so far as to say I have ‘given up’ on how I look but often times I just don’t get time to get cleaned up and when I do, I put on a comfy sweat suit or PJ’s. Of course much of this is due to the fact that I had a baby two months ago and don’t have any clothes I can fit in.

Truthfully though, some days I just don’t care what I look like. It seems pointless to get all pretty and then spend the entire day cleaning the house, doing laundry, changing diapers, and such. On a good day I get showered after Megan gets off to kindergarten (around12:30 pm). Other days I try to exercise and then don’t get showered until after I work out. I try to be presentable by the time Seth gets home from work. Most days I still want him to think I am attractive. 🙂

pj.gifI could feel bad for being a “shlumpadinka” but I don’t. I feel like I am at a stage in my life that requires some sacrifice and more often than not that sacrifice is me. So all of you out there who watched Oprah rip on those housewives who have neglected themselves, I say “don’t feel bad.” If you want to get dressed up each day then do it because you want to, but if you want to stay in your lounge wear then do it. We deserve that much after all — no need to feel bad for how we look. I love my PJ bottoms and my hooded zipper sweatshirt (Must be the Alaskan girl in me). Is it pretty? Probably not, but it keeps me clothed and doesn’t require much effort.

So if you come by for a visit and you see me in my PJ’s or a sweat suit don’t be surprised. Just know I am a “shlumpadinka” and that I am okay with that. 🙂

Drew’s Blessing

We blessed Drew on February 24th. He was such a little angel. He will be two months old this week. He is still the size of a peanut and hardly looks like he has changed. He is smiling and cooing now and is as precious as can be. Here are a few photos from his blessing.

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Little Drew

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Jacob, Drew, Megan, and Katelyn

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Grandma Jan and Grandpa Mike w/Drew

Surviving in a Snowcave

Several weeks ago I had the “opportunity” to go snowcaving with our scouts. I am the assistant scoutmaster so I frequently head out on these types of adventures, but none are as hard core as our annual snowcave trip. It’s enough to make me feel like a regular Bear Grylls.

“I’m going to show you how I survived a night in the brutal backcountry of the Wasatch mountains in the middle of winter.” Continue reading Surviving in a Snowcave