Modifications

Pre-baby, I didn't mind running errands.  Getting this and that.  Browsing, chillaxin', checking stuff off of my list.  It was enjoyable.  Post-baby, it's a chore.  Even if I'm able to plan it just right so that we're between feeding and nap times, lugging the 8 pound car seat + 14 pound baby in the Oklahoma wind and weather is a hefty deterrent.  We better really need something for us to make an outing. Sure, I wish there would be peace on earth, but what I really, really want is a drive-thru window at the grocery store.  You know, for those days when we just need bananas and milk.

I rejoice because the heavens have smiled upon us and bestowed the gift of home delivery.  Hallelujah!  Everything from dog food to diapers is deposited on my door step twice a month.  Nothing in life is hassle free, as the UPS man insists on ringing my doorbell, even after I asked him politely to not do so.  It's not so much the doorbell that is the problem, it's the 3 (3!) barking dogs who then wake up the aforementioned napping baby. Simple solution, disconnect the doorbell.  Problem diverted.  Happy momma.

Exercise, particularly running, is a big part of my life.   It's a non-negotiable part of my day.  But,  since the hubby and I both detest pushing the stroller (23 pound stroller + 14 pound baby = 37 pounds of pure wind resistance), we compromise on our weekend runs.  Friday nights' ongoing debate is who gets to "run long" the next morning and be gone for over an hour.  Which one of us will sacrifice and either push the stroller (read: run really slow) and which one gets to be free as a jay bird? I can only pull the "girl card" so many times before it's really just not fair...."You're so much stronger than I am.  It's easier for you to push the stroller in the 20 MPH wind gusts.  Look at all of your muscles."  He's on to me.

We modify our lives.  A little tweak here and big change there.  But, so far, so good.  We're making it work.  Friends told us that people who only have one child aren't really parents.  I guess that's because the adult to child ratio is still in the grown-ups favor.  Whatever, I'll take it.  This is doable.

Watch me outgrow my rugby bear! Annabelle, 7 months old, Oct. 1, 2012.

Looking like Elton John in her big girl swing.

Hanging out with mom.