Rehab?

I have a "small" addiction to two things.

                                          1.Frames...

I love taking pictures, and when you have two awfully good looking members of your family that happen to photograph extremely well, then hell, take pictures! Not only am I overly taking pictures I LOVE to frame them. I enjoy dusting and seeing those faces look back at me. I kinda like to look at the pictures during commercials too. (sounds a little odd, but whatever) I'm Positive I'm not the only "housewife" and/or "momma" who has this slight addiction.

        2. Scarves...

Look, scarves are an amazing piece of clothing. Think about it. They keep you warm. Can compliment an outfit. Cover up a ketchup stain. Make you "look" thinner. Sorta pull off a classy look. Great for a pop of color.

The reason it turned into an addiction is based on what my husband says. Apparently wearing them in the house is a problem. I have a strong case in defending myself on that. My husband will safe money in anyway he can. And one BIG way he saves money is by freezing my butt off. So scarves at home seems justified...

Doors...my worst enemy

I'm clumsy... I have no shame in admitting that. But when I know that a week will turn out great just based on how hard I hit a door should be a sign to me, family, and friends that I may have a problem.  It's not like this is a first time type of occurrence. I've been running into doors as early as I can remember. I think it started out as a "seeing" issue, I hated to wear my glasses, so I didn't...*BAM* that's me hitting one of many doors. Then it slowly became a not "looking" where I was going issue. I LOVE to read, I LOVE to read and walk... *BAM* that's another door. Finally it turned into a different monster with the birth of our son. He finds it extremely entertaining to have a clumsy momma. When he learned to walk the first thing he learned to do along with walking is close doors. He closes them just to see if I'll run into them...*BAM* so yea.... the highlight of my day was running into a door, again, and hard :) HAPPY MONDAY!

Let's talk about WEIGHT baby

Oh to be 19 again....

 The girl above was me during a beautiful time. I was newly married and trying for a baby. 5'5 130 lbs:) I didn't really work out, besides a run here and there, and  I could put away a medium pizza without trying. I didn't know it at the time, but I would regret not taking advantage of those simple joys.

no, I wasn't carrying twins mom...180lbs

 During my pregnancy we had a few scares, wasn't putting on enough weight, and may lose the baby a few times. So as you can see, my husband made it his mission to feed me steak and potatoes lol When we went to pick up my mother from the airport for the birth, she shouted out from across the tarmac "Michelle! Are you having twins?,! You are huge!" Not only was I embarrassed (thanks ma) but hurt as well. You see, my nickname growing up was "Flaca" which means "skinny" in Spanish. I realized with that simple statement that not only would weight loss be hard, but I knew things would NEVER be the same. I was scared. This picture was taken the day before he was born, looking back on it I had a reason to worry.

 

Three months old, nursing, and depressed....

That tiny person was my reason to live and wake each and every day. My husband left two month prior for Afghanistan. I was ALONE, Nursing every 2 hours, and couldn't look at my self in the mirror. But I felt calm and collected when I held him, kissed him, and smelled my small package of joy. I knew I would eventually get through it. I didn't leave the house. I stay just in case I got a call, email, or IM. It was hard, but my sole focus was my husband and snack size version of my husband. I stayed at 160lbs...

Our first Thanksgiving as a family...

That smile you see was genuine. My king, best friend, and lover was behind that camera. He was in one piece, smiling, and giggling cause our son was on his leg. When he arrived home he said I was beautiful. He made me feel as if I could weigh (literally) a ton and love me the same. He wanted me happy and healthy, plain and simple.  I realized I wasn't just his wife I was the mother of HIS son. I didn't want to lose weight for him or for anyone. Just for myself.

Today:

As for today, I work out four to five times a week, I'm not where I would love to be, but I just want to be able to outrun Zombies if the world does come to an end at the end of this year. My husband still calls me beautiful (and other perverted things) and he taught our son to call me "pweety" lol I feel good, and happy. 15lbs left to go. I can do it:) plus there's a Military Ball coming up that I want to rock at :D 

11 days, that was it

So since this is my first post I figured I should explain why you'll be seeing the number 11 alot. 11 is our family number. From the day I met my husband to the day we got married it was 11 days. Yes, I know what you are most likely thinking, "WHAT?!" "WHY?" well, when I saw him for the first time while I was working at blockbuster, I got really nervous, sweaty, and nauseous. Not the best sign that my soul mate was near, but it was a sign none the less. He was gorgeous. Bright Blue eyes, neat hair cut, great teeth, and smelled great. Found out quickly he was in the Army, and loved it. We talked on the phone the next day for 5 hours, he asked me out on a date so the following day he took me to a picnic.

Our first date Picture
Vernon Lake









He asked me to marry him 6 days from then. That Monday I said yes. Yes to love, honor, respect, and just plain romance. Best decision either of us made.

11 isn't magical. We don't make large family decisions based on that number (or any for that matter) but we understand that 11 days to fall in love is special and highly unlikely to ever happen again.

WE MADE THE CHOICE
When we married I was on birth control (happily on it). But when my husband found out he was going to be stationed to WA state and the exact unit, then to find out that they were about to deploy during a very hostile time in Afghanistan we had to sit down and talk. My husband isn't very emotional, but when he spoke to me about his fears and worries on the topic of not returning, I knew what he was going to ask me. He wanted a child. After a week of thinking, praying, and planning we made the choice to try. Then, 9 weeks later it happened:)


The Pregnancy wasn't easy. Heart burn, nausea, and weight gain (80lbs!). Then to top it off the move. We DROVE from Louisiana to Washington state! Yup, six months preggo and miserable. But on June 1st 2009 this small person managed to make a 5'11 200lb man sob in a rocking chair while holding him. We became parents. Christian- 9lbs 21inches long.