moosh in indy.

Goodbye July! While we’re at it let’s just say goodbye to 2011 because I never even had time to say hello to it. Has this year gone outrageously fast for anyone else? I’m pretty sure if I wrote a check right now I’d still but 2010 in as the date.

Many of you asked if you could still fix a diastasis two, three, even twelve years after your pregnancy. The answer is yes and this is the 4 step program that can help you do just that. Tell them I sent you, not that it matters, I just really think the creator needs to know how powerful social media and word of mouth is. Too many women have been told the only way to fix their FUPA (hat tip, flinger) is with surgery. This is not the case. (See also, not sponsored.)

Babbled this week:

I only have two kids but already find myself screaming “ADDI…VIV…WAIT, NO ADDIE! NO! WHO ARE YOU PEOPLE?” Not to mention the nicknames. (Hey remember Mozzi?)

I asked people what they panicked about as a new parent.  Many different answers and the correct one? Everything.

A visual tour of Vivi’s handmade etsy-licious bedroom.

How do you burp a baby? I’m a sack of potatoes burper myself.

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A blog I really got into this week? Grumbles and Grunts. I know she swears. Unclench. Most people do. I’m well aware I’M the weird one in this situation.

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Here’s Vivi observing her (Indiana) kingdom, she likes looking out at city streets. She’s a very observant baby. Watch out, I’m pretty sure she can see your hopes and dreams, make sure they’re clean ones, she’s just a baby.

(Indiana love onesie from Elms and Cedars.)

I really liked these posts about BlogHer.

Why a six year veteran is scared to death. (oh, hi. me. same reasons.)

Get your face out of your phone, your friends are in front of you.

Don’t want to read about BlogHer? Then read my (still) favorite blog of all time.

Take care of each other.

I have approximately 18 loads of laundry to catch up on. RACE YOU!

If you ask my mom about her greatest parenting accomplishments, getting my sister and me to fight over steamed spinach as kids by lying to us is certainly one of them. She told us they were ‘sweet leaves.’ I mean, c’mon, what kid isn’t going to want to eat sweet leaves?

As I recall there was never enough spinach at dinnertime. One measly scoop? THAT’S IT? I may or may not have bartered with my sister to get her share of the green stuff to.

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So I have a tear down the middle of my stomach.

Technical name?

Diastasis Recti.

What does it look like?

The one on the left.

image copyright 2010 Julie Tupler, RN

Does it hurt?

Yes. Quite badly at times.

Can you feel your guts through it?

Yep, and it’s just as gross as it sounds.

Can you fix it?

Sure! But I’m learning it’s a whole hell of a lot of work to do just that.

It involves a splint. A tight splint that I have to wear day and night for at least six weeks. A tight splint that I have to wear day and night for at least six weeks in super hot and sweaty Indiana weather.

What does the splint look like?

*deep breath*

Well, before I show you what I look like with the splint on I should show you what it looks like with it off.

Wait wait wait! First, let me show you what I looked like 9 hours before I gave birth. (Perspective. It helps.)

Okay.

9 weeks postpartum (with a giant diastasis, remember? Good.)

and while we’re at it…from the front.

and now with the splint…

Yeah. That’s a lot to hold in huh?

So. There you go.

That’s what I’m dealing with over here.

It kind of sucks.

But look what I got out of it!!

Two of ‘em! BONUS!

Now move along and have comfort in the fact that not all of us are in bikinis eight weeks postpartum.

I’d be remiss not to thank you for the excellent work you’ve been doing for me lately. Especially when it comes time to dominate my family at monkey match each night. I know you’re well aware that this whole making our living on the Internet thing is feast or famine and we’ve had to pass on a lot of feasts in the past because you just couldn’t be trusted to hold your own.

You’ve been working so well I’ve taken on far more this month than I ever have in all my six years doing this. I have faith that we can do this together brain. That you won’t break on me. At least not until the feast table has been cleared and the food coma has set in.

We’re good brain, you and me.

Let’s keep it that way for as long as possible (at least until the end of August please.)

xoxo, the body that contains you and feeds you all those tasty omega-3′s

So. Maybe you’ve noticed Vivi’s hair.

She came out with it and it hasn’t gone anywhere since. Addie wasn’t born with quite as much but she has since made up for her follicular shortages at birth with a mop of her own.

Cody drew you a picture in case you’re not familiar.

She’s taken to doing some mild impressionism work.

Guy Fieri…

Donald Trump…

Elvis…

And old school Christopher Lloyd…

and then there’s this one, which isn’t so much about the hair as it is about how awful her life must be to make a face like this.

I love her so so much.

Hey remember when I told you about that time we packed up and drove across the country with a two month old and a six year old? I didn’t? Yeah, that’s because I was hoping to never have to think about it ever again. Vivi lost her mind and decided she hated everyone and everything around the western border of Wyoming. I followed shortly by having a meltdown through the canyons of northeastern Utah.

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It’s time to crowd source your brilliance.

The past week temperatures in Indianapolis have been similar to the surface of the sun. For those of you unfamiliar with heat + humidity = heat index, imagine standing in front of a running semi on the hottest day you can imagine while wearing winter clothes.

One of the things I miss most about Utah is the ability to take a shower and still feel and smell as though you cared about your personal hygiene hours later. I’m pretty sure the only reason I shower out here anymore is to scrape off one layer of sweat only to allow another one to adhere to me as soon as I dry off.

I should really like to be a good smelling person. I’ve exhausted my knowledge in the attempt to attain such a lofty goal but have come up only slightly less smelly (and sweaty and sticky.)

Is there something I’m missing? Or are we all doomed to feeling and smelling slimy and miserable in the most humid parts summer?

Things I babbled on these past two weeks…

When should babies learn to fall asleep on their own? (If you said straight out of the womb you would be correct yet oh. so. wrong.)

Songs that will forever remind me of my babies.

Vivi and her embarrassing sweat issues.

The time I didn’t agree with her doctor.

Feeding babies at the pool? OKAY! Making babies in the pool? NOT OKAY.

The war on cradle crap.

And finally…the cutest burp cloths you ever did see.

(And really finally? THE CHEEKS. More nommy than marshmallows.)