Artist. Idealist. Friend. Health advocate. Yoga instructor. Yogi. Lover of life. Forty-something mummy fulfilling a lifetime dream. I couldn't have a better team!
I actually made a kale salad with fresh picked kale. With my lovely barnacle it’s challenging these days to find the time and spare arms to eat, much less to prepare foods like chopping vegetables. Small victory! Kale power! Happy mummy; happy bébé! Kalerific!
The inspiration came when we were out in Fremont yesterday. We were on our family friendly “forced-march” in the hot sun. We walked the Burke Gilman trail to the Flying Apron Bakery and Café for some GF vegan cake. This is where our delicious lemon wedding cake came from (Thank you Grandma Julie!)… By the time I get to FA I’m usually so hungry I miss my opportunity for dessert and have to get a wholesome savory item like their pizza or lasagna. Everything always looks so good!
Yesterday I had the broccoli crunch salad and it was so delicious! I came right home and against all odds whipped up my own version of the sesame kale salad pictured above. It marinated overnight and we got to enjoy it for our quick and easy nutritious lunch today! Now we are all powered up… for some impromptu acroyoga! Gratitude toward Michael for being such a thoughtful devoted partner and for keeping things fresh!
Custom quirky birthday artwork by Sarah Pulver 2015
I have been working hard and enthusiastically to tone and shape up my body after pregnancy and birth. Turns out it’s not enough. Circumstantial developments continue to throw new challenges.
I went to hot Hatha yoga class today. Michael was home and could hang with Lake. Some men’s morning time. I’m feeling pretty good. I’m on my own. I’m going to a yoga class. I’ll get to do a whole yoga session. I’ve been doing my homework, my daily yoga practice, my planks. I’m looking good. I’m feeling strong. I’m balancing on one leg and getting good lift out of my core. I may not be at my pre-pregnancy weight, but I’m fitting back into my pre-pregnancy wardrobe and doing great with all the poses.
Then, it turns out I put my yoga mat in the one place where the sun moved from between the curtains to light up my mat. Everyone else seemed to know better and situated their mats further back into the room, or even up against the cool-retaining concrete walls. Not me, I was over by the window. I started out in the shade, but before too long I was in the sun beam. It was super hot. I moved my mat. The sunbeam moved to follow me. It was burning hot. It was at least 10F hotter where I was in the sun compared to the rest of the room. And the room was hot to begin with. It was hot yoga. Hot Hatha yoga. I begin to weep.
Hot yoga. Isn’t the hot of hot yoga enough? Nope. It’s über hot yoga for me! At the end of class my mat is the one mat in the entire room with a beautiful sun beam right smack dab in the middle of it. Filling my mat up with light. And hot heat. My sweat soaked mat. Tears are streaming down my face. My hot red face. My sunshine face. My sweat soaked face. Body. Clothes.
My clothes. So just when I can fit back into all my old jeans and I’m feeling pretty good about myself Life ups the ante. I wished things felt as good on the inside as they are beginning to look and feel on the outside. So, yesterday I went to see a physical therapist who specializes in pelvic floor rehabilitation. Turns out I have a lot of work to do. I have a little bit of every kind of thing wrong with me that a person can have after a long and arduous but ultimately uncomplicated vaginal childbirth. Sprains, strains, tears, scar tissue, laxity and spasms. I feel broken even as I’m having a great physical yoga practice. It’s the mental-emotional component that’s resisting the depth and magnitude of the recovery work. I seriously underestimated the total impact that carrying and birthing our beautiful Lake would have. And I’m completely filled with gratitude to have helped to create and share in his existence. I love you Lake. Alright, let’s do this!
Lake rooting for me with his signature Fight the Power pose.
Every day is a new day at the zoo. That was an apt tag line for the Woodland Park Zoo a while back. It’s so true. Every time I visit the zoo a different animal seems to take the highlight by being outrageously amusing. Or “Tot’s adorbs!” as one zoo goer was purportedly heard exclaiming.
The same can be said for Lake Odin. Every day is a new day with Lake at my side. We adore our coordinating outfits to go with our coordinating lives. See, we basically go everywhere together and do everything together right now. Last night Lake went to his first concert: The Paperboys, doing an outdoor gig at the University Village. Beautiful summer evenings! Danceable music. We garnered a bundle of compliments on our “denim on denim” look!
In contrast to our matching outfits, our days are always different. Lake is officially 12 pounds and 24 inches on the physician’s scale yesterday. He’s growing so quickly, graduated from the K’tan “sling” position to the Baby Björn upright “looking-around” position for our daily tromping excursions. I’m already reminiscing about when Lake was a baby, and he’s only 10 1/2 weeks old. Here’s a photograph at the zoo a month ago, then us in our Royal Blues just this week at Greenlake, and finally an archival photograph highlighting our denim on denim trend:
Très 4. trimester chic!Best twinset ever!Denim on DenimToday our theme turned out to be simply “everyday is a zoo, period.” This evening we took the bus to Belltown to attend the Pacific Northwest Ballet Summer outdoor performance at the Olympic Sculpture Park. I went with Auntie Lindsay, and the plan was to meet up with some friends and enjoy a no host picnic in the park, a mid-summer SupperClub social, having a wonderful evening of culture and views all the while
launching a SupperClub revival. Well, it wasn’t the tranquil romantic scene that I imagined where we were picnicing on the lawn, sipping beverages, nibbling tapas while the ballet dancerslept
and swirled against the stunning panorama of nature.
Calder’s EagleI wasn’t too far off, except… the event was a total zoo. It was very well attended with an impressive turnout; the space was overflowing. You were meant to wander the park, engaging with the space which would periodically host a pop-up dance performance in any of
five different locations. In reality, you either swarmed with 500 other people to flow with the dance performances where you then couldn’t really see or you stayed put and really couldn’t see. Well, we did catch a few glimpses of Do. Not. Obstruct.
, got a general impression. It was not particularly conducive to mingling and visiting with five other couples most of whom had babies. We were struggling to create a convivial space for exchanging a few words, meanwhile covering our babies from the bright setting sun, and getting shouted at by other viewers to sit down so they could seethe Do. Not. Obstruct. performance
(mind you, you were meant to be walking around, taking in the scene, the artwork, the views, the performances at your leisure…).Maybe the shouters were part of the art.
Many of my friends up and left as soon as they had arrived, and this was after battling traffic and parking, not a small feat in rush hour traffic.Props for showing up, bonus if you actually garnered some modicum of enjoyment from the ordeal.
In short, it was situation ballet picnic FUBAR.
As with the best zoo experiences, it usually comes after the gates close and the indoor exhibits are locked up for the night. The people and popcorn drift toward home, and the peace settles in. After the performances are over at eight o’clock this evening, nature returns to the center stage. Michael has joined us by this point. Pretty much everyone else had come and gone. The three of us have a romantic date on the North Meadow overlooking the Sound. We catch up, heart-to-heart.The sun sets behind the Olympics, both of our homelands, which are glowing a golden periwinkle. Then it was night and we were heading home on the bus, this time hand in hand, feeling content and happy to be married.
Good Morning Sunshine! Did you make me a nice coffee?
Like many discoveries, I hadn’t put a lot of thought into the different aspects beforehand. As it turns out, having a baby changes your life. Ha! Well, I had that basic principle down, but the myriad ways in which it specifically manifests itself is not completely self-evident ahead of time. Surprising challenges arise in the logistical navigation through the world. Like how hard it is to eat an orange with one hand, because that’s usually all that’s left after holding a baby to your breast. And especially the first few months he’s always eating. Practically every waking hour. Apricots, berries and even apples are my preferred breastfeeding friendly fruits. Sheath dresses, which were so elegant during pregnancy, are totally useless when trying to breastfeed. My denim jumper suddenly became a nightmare when trying to use the toilet before getting off the ferry while wearing Lake. We were all tangled up and trapped and the security guards were trying to clear off the last of the passengers (us). Shirt dresses are the answer.
With respect to these various tactical developments, cold brew rises up as a coffee champion. Cold brew is a water extraction process where freshly ground beans are steeped in cold water at room temperature for an extended period of time (like left on the windowsill overnight, or from one morning to the next). Not only does it taste so sweet and smooth with less acid extracted, but it is extremely baby friendly!
Cold brewed coffee can be made ahead of time. When it’s convenient for you and baby. It can be made in large batches and keeps well in the refrigerator. It’s refreshing! It doesn’t get cold if baby requires attending to and suddenly takes precedence over coffee. It’s already cold. It doesn’t present a danger to baby. It’s not hot and doesn’t involve any boiling liquid at any point. It’s already all ready to go when you are having a coffee emergency. There’s no need to endure baby wailing away while grinding, brewing, and pressing coffee. No suffering through a fog or a headache because you haven’t had a chance to get your coffee yet. It’s safe, yummy and there for you! Enjoy!
Simply let ground beans sit in water overnight (I use a coffee sock). Rinse and repeat!
It’s time to address the weight issue. It’s approximately the midway point between six weeks and three months postpartum. I’ve been silent on this topic for a month now. After vowing to get back to 125 by six weeks, I got a lot of support to drop the subject and throw out the scale and not worry about it. I appreciate the sentiment. I really do. It’s just not my style. So I weigh myself every day and, driven by my food sensitivities and health consciousness, I eat my predominantly paleo diet… Heaps of fruits and vegetables everyday. Oatmeal most days. Nuts. Tofu. Soy milk. Meat and fish. Occasionally a bucket full of homemade gourmet popcorn, rice, or vegan roti. Essentially no bread, no sweets, no desserts. Primarily I don’t have the taste for it. But, as I mentioned, loads of fruits and vegetables. An entire watermelon! My appetite is substantial and I respect that. Lake is entirely mummy-milk-fed!
Lake and I also walk a ton. We average five miles a day. And he’s getting heavier all the time. I do at least a little yoga every day. And my planks while he’s doing his tummy time. We cheer (grunt) each other on.
And since about 2 weeks post-partum, my weight has been fairly consistent. While Lake continues to grow heavier and taller, I’m hovering right around 135 pounds for months now. This is 10 pounds up from my baseline. I feel good. I’m not distressed or disappointed or depressed. I’m mostly curious.
My best friend, mother of two, says
Don’t worry! It’ll come off. I had such a hard time keeping up with breastfeeding. I was practically worried I couldn’t keep enough weight on. Right now? This is nothing. Lake’s just in training camp for when he is bigger and then he’ll really start sucking you dry. Stop worrying!
My doctor says
That’s normal. We want you to be about 10 pounds heavier while you’re breastfeeding.
Well meaning associates say generally
It’s the hormones.
Rarely does anyone ever specify which hormone is keeping the weight on or increasing my appetite. I’m mostly only familiar with prolactin “the mothering hormone” and oxytocin “the bonding hormone” being associated with breast milk production and release during breastfeeding. Prolactin suppresses testosterone. Low testosterone could account for some weight retention. Estrogen is also suppressed. This helps prevent ovulation during pregnancy. Hmm, nature is so elegant and sophisticated.
It’s also as basic as the basics: physics. Clearly if I’m burning 500kcal daily to provide Lake’s breakfast, lunch, and dinner, I’m also eating 500 kcal more everyday than I did before the pregnancy to keep up with him. Quarts of chocolate soy milk, pints of strawberries, gobs of hummus and peanut butter with my veggies all add up to some pretty darn yummy breast milk for Lake. Good work mummy!
So, it’s probably time to inject a bit of levity and patience into the situation and enjoy my newfound mummy curves while I’ve got them! Meanwhile I keep on walking and picking farm fresh veggies and paying attention. For me, part of being healthy is minding the scale, and for now that means staying actively involved as the number trends back to baseline…
I excitedly report to all who will listen (Michael) when I hear Lake in the morning. He had just been sound asleep from 9:20pm to 6:20am. I, of course, had already woken up in a puddle of leaked breast milk and had been drowsily listening for signs of his wakefulness and hunger for a good 20 minutes already. But it had been completely silent. I had resisted the urge to go check on him to make sure he was still alive; I try to talk myself out of giving into my anxieties whenever possible.
That’s got to be some kind of record.
Michael exclaims, and goes back to sleep. Hmm, well he’s got lots of good role models around.
Mr. Cat… loves to sleep.
Mr. Silky… loves to sleep.
Daddy… loves to sleep late.
Mummy… loves to go to sleep early.
Looks like Lake got the best sleep traits from all of us. I guess I didn’t need to overly concern myself with his sleep training. I lasted two days of sleep training at 8 weeks. He just was too hungry to stay back asleep. Even if he did cry himself back to sleep, he would wake back up rooting. I’ve heard 12 pounds is the magic number for sleeping contentedly for long stretches of the night. And according to my amateur bathroom scale weigh job, he’s 12 1/2 pounds this morning. Lake is our heavyweight champion among champions. He seems happy to have transitioned to doing his nights all on his own. He looked really proud of himself this morning. And so smiley!
If rolling becomes an Olympic sport, Lake is all practiced up! He has showed an early aptitude as world class roller! Today during his work out (aka tummy time) he did three reps.
And just to keep his options open, we are maintaining his archery, fencing, volleyball, rowing and swimming training regimens as well. This entails a series of arm stretches and poses that he returns to throughout every day. “The Archer” is quite striking.
Daddy says: “Fight the powers that be!”
He is a very stalwart traveler. Bundled into his Baby Björn he endures mountain scrabbling and most of a lunch out.
A wonderful spread by Cafe Turko. We reminisce about our wedding reception here last year.
This evening we watch some Rio 2016 Olympic Mens Volleyball on the big screen while assembling fresh spring rolls. Lake takes it all in. He flexes and practices some blocks. Wears himself out. Asleep by 9:30pm. We watch some Women’s tennis and soon follow. Yeah, baby, we will follow you all the way to the Olympics. You are our gold medalist!
Just when I think there’s a pattern I can hang my hat on, Lake goes and switches it up. He knows how to keep things interesting and to keep mummy on her toes.
For the past month he’s been very consistent about going to sleep at 11pm, then sleeping for 6-7 hours, eating an early breakfast for 1 hour and then sleeping 2 more hours. There was little to no room to influence his pattern. He would just go off and on like a light bulb on his own terms. This week, things were slowly shifting. He began to go to sleep a bit earlier: it began with a “switching off” at 10:45, then 10:30pm, and 9:30pm… We’ve also begun to have the flexibility to shorten that early hour long breakfast down to 45 minutes and then today “breakfast express” was satisfying at 30 minutes.
Well this evening is a game changer. I’m not sure what his plan is. He probably wasn’t sure what my plan was. We were really tired this afternoon/early evening he fell asleep at the breast and I was falling asleep too. So I thought we could both go down for a nap. He had fallen so asleep so suddenly that I was able to change his diaper without him waking up. But after 15 minutes or so, he wasn’t happy napping, so we had breastfeeding napping in bed for quite a while… One hour? Hard to say the timing and now I wish I had a reference point. I fell asleep and when I woke up it was 7:30pm. He stayed asleep. My parents had prepared a lovely dinner and the three of us enjoyed it thoroughly along with a rousing discussion about gun safety, civic duty, financial security, identity protection and past presidential election campaigns. Yum, stimulating for the mind and the appetite!
Now it’s 11:30pm and Lake is still asleep. Is this a new trend? How is the night going to play out? And how are the upcoming nights going to play out, my little sleeper agent?
A Perfect Day . . . 