I’ve seen a bunch of folks “attending” the 30-Day Ab Challenge Event (or whatever it’s called) on Facebook. And I would totally do it (kudos to accepting the challenge, peeps!), but after having four babies (the two oldest so close together — 16 months — along with the two younger littles just about as close), I’ve discovered I suffer from Diastisis Recti.
Do you know what that is? It’s a separation of your lower abdomen muscles, which results in a gap that can vary in size. It turns out that one out of three women who have been pregnant suffer from this. I can’t find the page where I originally read this exact statistic, but I did come across a blog that references it.
When I first discovered it I didn’t know what it was, just that I would sometimes have a shooting pain after I did crunches or when I bent over to tie my shoes or pick something up and that when I sat at a certain angle, there was a protrusion up the middle of my stomach, and at another angle a gap into which I can fit my fingers. When I showed the hubs he told me to ask my OB about it. She didn’t diagnose me. Only said if it caused me enough pain we could operate (thinking it might be a hernia, which, by the way, if you don’t take care of/improve the Diastisis Recti, you could end up getting). I thought that was a bit extreme and decided just to deal with it. But she also didn’t tell me how crunches, planks, and certain yoga and pilates moves can make the condition WORSE.
Who the hell dry cleans baby clothes? And who in their right mind would make baby clothes that require dry cleaning?
I don’t do laundry everyday, but I do have at least one load of laundry to do a day. Ya got that? Let me know if you don’t understand that nuttiness.
My kids’ clothes go in HOT (no matter what the color) because they’re germ monsters.
The clothes the hubs and I wear get sorted into darks and lights for cold and warm or hot loads (yup, special treatment because we don’t grow a few inches every few months, nor have we bought new clothes in years).
Unfortunately for my husband, I don’t take special care to check labels (if it’s in the pile, it’s going into the washer and probably straight to the dryer, unless he’s asked me to specifically hang something up because he doesn’t want it to shrink). Yes, that means many an item has been destroyed because it was left in the pile when it should have been pulled out for our semiannual trip to the cleaners.
Well, I started 2013 off to a good start. No, that’s not a typo — two thousand THIRTEEN. I created an About page, posted a recipe and even posted a follow up to the recipe. That’s three — count ’em: one, two, THREE posts I made at the beginning of the year. Unfortunately, that was a year ago (I could get all technical and say it was 11 months, 23 days, X minutes and X seconds, but I’m a giver, so I’ll say a year).
Now, I must say that in the span of the last year I got pregnant with my fourth child (which started as twins and had us FREAKING OUT for about two weeks), experienced polyhydramnios (that’s extra fluid in the placenta for those of you who want to know) while chasing after my
insane energetic son, working full time, carting around my then-kindergarten and pre-k daughters, and fighting the school district to allow my second-oldest to enter into Kindergarten instead of Transitional Kindergarten for the 2013-2014 school year (that ordeal is for another post … hope I can get that done before 2015).
Hello, large pregnant lady! I still had two months to go until my scheduled C.
I vowed to myself that I’d get something posted during my maternity leave, but then the week after I came home from the hospital we had our kitchen cabinets and island FINALLY being installed. Yes, FINALLY deserves all caps because I didn’t have a kitchen for the past 6.5 years. No, I didn’t have old cabinets that were replaced. I didn’t have ANYTHING. For Christ’s sake, I didn’t have a kitchen sink or an oven/stovetop for the first year we lived here (let alone hot water for the first three months … but I digress and now I’m just sounding like a whiney little bitch). So that was sorta a distraction, given the newborn that needed my attention and all (good thing I don’t breastfeed — GASP! — or I’d have been cooped up in my bedroom for a week, which I guess could have been sorta nice if the pocket door facing the family room where our cabinet installer was entering and exiting actually closed shut for some privacy).