THANKFUL FOR: The pill-popping sitch seems to be improving for Beesly, and that makes me a very happy camper. Out of the three capsules she takes a day, I usually have success with two. Per the vet's recommendation, we gave Pill Pockets ANOTHER try. If I get it sealed up just right, she won't resist it like she did when we were in Hawaii. I'm not sure why she's okay with them now, but at least it works most of the time. That being said, I do have to woo her with a Beggin Strip reward after she's swallowed her meds. I'm not only pleased with the ease of pill-popping, but I'm also impressed with the puddle of drool she produces. Get it, girl!

THINKING ABOUT: A piece of me died last Friday when Max's Jumperoo arrived. Why must baby toys be so stinkin' ugly? Yuck! Up until this point, I haven't had to buy anything too incredibly hideous. For months, I dreaded the day I had to buy an exersaucer or jumper. In anticipation, I Googled high and low to find at least one tasteful option. I mean, what sort of snazzy things do the Europeans use? In all of my searching, I found zilch. I read hundreds of comments on Apartment Therapy in hopes someone, anyone, would share at least ONE aesthetically pleasing product. Nope, not happening. With the coercion of my mother, I finally gave in and purchased one. Eww! Max loves to stand, and she thought it would be a nice option to have while Flyboy is away. Since mom's always right, I gave in. She reassured me that I could stow it in the spare bedroom whenever it wasn't in use and that put me at ease. Then it arrived. With my nose turned, I put it together and it's just as atrocious as I thought. I didn't realize, however, how ginormous it would be. OMG! In an effort to save myself from a potential meltdown, I attempted to hide it in the guest room. I picked it up and found that it's too wide for me to fit in our hallway. I have to turn it on its side. Honestly, I'm not even sure if Max enjoys it. Can't I just give it away? Could he be one of those oddballs that doesn't like toys like this? Pretty please. When I shared all of these sentiments with my mom, she erupted with laughter. I feel like this is payback for all of the Fisher Price crap we had when I was a kid.

FEELING: The nuthouse was in rare form yesterday. It seemed as though everything went to hell in a hand basket by 11 am, which didn't leave me feeling very hopeful about the day or weeks ahead. I wanted to cry, but that didn't seem like my best option. In an effort to regroup, I took a moment to focus on something that brings me joy. Enter rare bird, Iris Apfel. Seeing pictures of her and reading about the fashion icon makes me dizzy with delight. In fact, I've decided I want a life-size cutout of Iris to have on hand when I need a little pick-me-up. It would be something similar to the Flat Stanley Project we participated in as kids. Does anyone remember that? Anywho, I think a "Flat Iris" would help me channel her pizzazz. It would be just the right oomph to take on the day with gusto.

LISTENING TO: There was a moment this past Tuesday night where my phone was shuffling through my iTunes library, and I couldn't have picked a better song for the shit-uation. It was poetic, really. Just wait as I paint you a picture. You see, I had everything set up so I could bathe Max in the kitchen sink. Feeling hopeful, I thought, "Maybe tonight bath time will be fun?" So I changed his diaper, grabbed a few washcloths, and wrapped him in his adorable hooded towel. Feeling rather peppy, we skipped down the hallway with nothing but smiles and coos. Then I started to feel a rumble in my hand. "Oh no, it can't be. He's never done THIS before." I slowly peeked inside the towel and realized we better go back to the nursery and get ANOTHER towel because the stinky explosive mess he just made is no longer fit for, um, drying. As this is all happening, I hear Hall and Oates in the background:

Well well you (ooh ooh ooh ooh)

You make my dreams come true (you you) you (you you)
Well well well you (ooh ooh ooh ooh)
Oh yeah you make my dreams come true (oooh ooh ooh) hell yeah

As Max started wailing, I began cackling. Sometimes life has the best comedic timing. Yep, this child makes my dreams come poo.

WATCHING: Please tell me you watch Fixer Upper on HGTV? I seriously love me some Chip and JoJo. Just one episode will have you dreaming about shiplap and subway tile. If we're going to live in TX, why can't it be in Waco?

EATING: I'll be honest, I'm using Flyboy's absence as an excuse to really hunker down and focus on my diet. I'm starting to see progress when it comes to losing the baby weight, and I'm hopeful that with a little extra TLC, I can drop a few more pounds. I'm sure this is probably annoying to read about, but it's a priority to me. Aside from the occasional Starbucks treat, I'm not indulging in anything really exciting.  Most of my meals these days consist of roasted veggies and either some salmon or baked chicken.

READING: This mom stuff is tricky. As the queen of self-doubt, I've found a lot of solace in the Shel Silverstein poem, The Voice. I guess it makes me feel better about the choices I make for myself and for Max on a daily basis. I need to trust my instincts.

There is a voice inside of you
That whispers all day long,
"I feel this is right for me,
I know that this is wrong."
No teacher, preacher, parent, friend
Or wise man can decide
What's right for you--just listen to
The voice that speaks inside.

LOVING: Last week, I decided to switch up my spinning routine. I have five DVDs that came with my stationary bike, but after watching the same videos for five years, the workouts tend to get a little stale. With a little online digging, I learned about the Peloton iPad app. Have you heard of it? The free app has a variety of on-demand spinning workouts in addition to live classes that you can stream on your device. How cool is that? I was worried that I'd have to have a Peloton bike in order to use the app; however, I've found that any ol' spin bike will work. Whenever I work out, I put Max in his Mamaroo Swing and he watches as I pant and sweat.
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