Fix It

So as you're probably aware...I recently had a baby. Well, it kinda seems like forever ago honestly. But she's only 3 months old. It also feels like forever since I was able to fit into my own pants. (And I'm not counting the stretchy kind.) Such is a day in the life of a mother of 4.

I've been blessed with good genes (thanks, mom!) and an odd love of exercise, so thankfully I've always been able to lose all the baby weight with each kiddo. (And for all you goofballs who wanna say I don't gain much while pregnant...I do. My hips -and their lack of ability to wear my pants- don't lie.) This time around finding the time to workout is the problem. Four kids make a person kinda busy.

I admittedly haaaaate eating healthy. I'd rather workout for hours than skip dessert. I realize this is setting a terrible example for my children, however. As well as my husband and his fragile will power when it comes to burritos the size of a baby, and cookies as big as his head...somebody's gotta say no around here. I've tried detoxes and random things before to get us on a better track health wise, but it never lasts for long. I had determined once Amaryllis was here I was going to change our eating habits (more for health's sake than weight) once and for all.

I have a friend and old college roomie who is a fitness coach. I remember seeing her talk about the 21 Day Fix. It was easy to say 'that is what I'm going to do once I have this baby' BEFORE I had this baby. It's not so easy once you've been 10 days without your beloved soda and you dream about cake at night. But we've committed, and I think one of the things keeping me going is committing and buying the program. The tightwad in me has currently got the junk food addict in me by the neck saying, "We paid for this and we are gonna finish it. Ya hear?!"

I'm totally sure that I will probably always dream about cake and love diet dr pepper...but I do want to take care of myself so I can take care of these four reasons I can't fit into my pants. They are a busy group of people. They take no prisoners. So I've gotta be on my A game. And apparently that involves occasionally eating your veggies. Who knew?

Sitting Pretty.

Amaryllis is doing really well sitting up in her bumbo these days. She likes to be in a sitting position, even when I'm holding her, so Im glad she's learning to sit on her own. (I guess it probably really helps out with her reflux.) I love being a mom, but it's hard being a chair, too.

Only problem is, there are several risks involved in being a baby in this house, specifically one who can now sit. In the floor. In the middle of a pack of wild animals. Who have very crazy imaginations.

I do think they were trying to help? Building queen Fancy Pants a little fort. She didnt seem to mind too much, either. Mommy was a little concerned, however, that the fort would collapse.

I removed the fort much to everyone's dismay, and next time I looked I realized they decided she needed a hat. Can't a baby just watch TV in peace?

Bossy Pants

Amaryllis is starting to find her voice a little more these days. She has been relatively quiet in terms of making noises besides crying. I specifically remember Jericho babbling at 6 weeks...he ironically he went on to not talk for a very long time.

As loud as it is around here, her little babbles kind of get lost in the shuffle. I recently caught her squealing at Merrick and Tirzah, though. She had their undivided attention and they were both loving it. I guess maybe you don't have to always be the loudest to get people to listen to you.

She does kind of seem to have all of us right where she wants us. Like the other morning when she woke up sooo early, and then finally went back to sleep right as I needed to get up but was sleeping ON me so she kind of won more snuggles. I only minded a little.

One of my favorite things about my kiddos is their big personalities. I think this little miss bossy pants is definitely working on finding hers.

That's Fair.

This past Saturday we took the hooligans to the fair. Contrary to what you might think, they weren't on display in the prize-winning animal section, even though they could pass for bear cubs. We have taken them the last several years, and the older they get the more fun we have taking them. The littlest Barron missed out on the fair fun, but next year she can be a prize-winning animal too.

We went with the unlimited ride bands this year...which was the first time we did that. Definitely the way to go. (Especially when you have three hooligans and a husband wanting to ride everything in the fair.) It was well worth it to watch them having a blast. I was impressed with how brave they were this year. Merrick in the past has been a little scared of rides, (he takes after his mother before him, who won't set a toenail on a roller coaster) but this year he rode several roller coasters and random machines designed to make you dizzy and sick, or make your mama have a little panic attack when you spin and rattle off into the sunset. He even held a good sized baby alligator at an alligator wrestling show. His only comment was, "that alligator was heavier than I thought it would be".

Tirzah is kind of the opposite of her mother...she spent a good few minutes sobbing hysterically when she was too short to ride The Fireball. I didn't even like looking at the fireball, much less want to cry if they told me I couldn't ride it. (It's one of those deals that goes up on side of a circular track only to come back down, over and over until you finally go completely upside down and come down the other side.) She also cried because she couldn't ride The Viper. (Sidenote: Who names these things? Certainly not a mother.)

Jericho was still a little scared of some of the rides, but he rode most of the same ones the older two did like a trooper. He loves the flying elephants and the merry go round. He also loved his new slingshot, which he seems to have misunderstood the operating instructions of, since he hurled the whole thing at his sister's head shortly after we bought it. We also were reminded of his cotton candy phobia. He didn't even want the bag sitting in the stroller with him, and punched Tirzah when she tried to give him some. (The fair brings out his violent side, obviously.)

All things considered (height problems and terrifying candy corn aside) we had an awesome day. It was good to spend some time with just the older three...since this has been the summer of Miss Fancy Pants. I've missed hanging out with these guys. Merrick wanted to know if we could go back to the fair next Saturday...which I think was a pretty good sign that it was a good day. :)

So...Prevacid expires.

So every time I've tried to blog recently two things happen. 1) Someone is crying (not necessarily Amaryllis. But usually Amaryllis.) 2) I'm so brain dead by the time bedtime rolls around (my typical blog writing time) that it hurts to try to think coherently about anything other than Candy Crush and what is on TV. And sometime even Candy Crush is too much. There had been a lessened amount of screaming and crying around here recently. That is, until we realized after about 5 days of straight screaming, that prevacid definitely has a shelf life. And it is not a month.

We had gotten a prescription for a month's worth of prevacid from Amaryllis's gastroenterologist. (Which would have been fine, except we get the compounded form...which has a shelf life of about 15 days max. But not to hear the pharmacist tell it.) The pharmacy filled her prescription for a month, and the farther away we got from that two week mark the madder Amaryllis got. I finally got really desperate and we called her doctor. He immediately said "oh, well it's because her prevacid loses it's potency after about two weeks."

Cue the freak out. My very fragile sanity kind of rests on a bottle of prevacid stored in the fridge and guarded with my life. And you're telling me it's expired? We quickly called the pharmacy and begged for a replacement since, in our minds, they definitely should know this information and shouldn't have given us that much at once. They argued with us, saying there is no evidence that it loses potency after 2 weeks. (I did much googling after that, and read that many pharmacies only dispense compounded prevacid for two week periods because of this shelf-life, and many moms noted this problem as well.) I kind of wanted to drop off my screaming baby as evidence...but they finally conceded to give us a replacement.

Literally a different baby once she got the new medicine...which was all the evidence I needed that the last bottle had expired and wasn't doing the job. Today we got a letter in the mail from the pharmacist including a study he must have googled about how prevacid doesn't lose it's potency. If this wasn't the only pharmacy in the city that our insurance managed to work with I would never set a toenail in there again. (DON'T go to Westbury Pharmacy for me, k?) Either way, I'm just so glad we got it figured out.

We will now be getting her meds in 10 day intervals. (I don't even wanna get CLOSE to that two week mark. I start having flashbacks when she starts screaming. I'm only kind of kidding. I met a hygienist at the kids' dentist the other day who is going through the same thing with her baby. It was like we were kindred spirits, and so nice to talk to another reflux mom about the symptoms of mama-with-refluxy-baby: fear of leaving the house cuz baby will scream, pacing the floor and crying while baby is screaming, multiple trips to multiple doctors, random medicine droppers all over your house making it look like you yourself are doing drugs, twitching of your eyelids, etc. We maybe should start a support group.)

One thing about this reflux nonsense...it has made me appreciate SO much every tiny little smile this girl gives us. Every little coo and every moment she sits content just melt my heart. I would put up with infinite screaming just for one of those precious smiles. (Sometimes I think Amaryllis is trying to help me with missing her twin by requiring the attention of two babies. Oh, kiddo...if only it was that simple. I know we both miss her, and wish she was here screaming right along with you. Well, maybe not screaming per say...but ya know what I mean.) She and her refluxy little self are an irreplaceable part of this family, and I can't wait till life gets a little easier for this precious kiddo.