sick of it!

I am so sick of this squishy tummy! Squishy babies are cool, not squishy mommies.

It is now officially six months since I gave birth. 

I don’t know how I’m going to do it, but it’s not rocket science. I need to get back into shape.

I feel like I blinked and suddenly I’m a mom and step-mom. It’s fun in ways I didn’t expect, and I don’t have time to stop and think about myself too much…

But I want to be a little selfish still. I want to look good again.

squishy baby!

Went to see my friend’s baby.

God is he a squishy little umeboshi monkey! I remember when our sparrow was an umeboshi monkey.

I got really pissed off at one point though, when I looked in her boshitecho (this official book the government gives you where they put all your pregnancy and baby info), and saw that her labor was FOUR HOURS! Mine was thirty-six fricking hours.

Her beautiful cool mom (who’s visiting) was like, “life isn’t fair.”

Mr. Mom day snack time.

Mr. Mom day snack time.

Sparrow reading about sparrows.

Sparrow reading about sparrows.

mr. mom day

Mr. Mom day went well. He cleaned the whole house and did two rounds of laundry (his fault because he promised he’d do the laundry yesterday and didn’t, so then it piled up), hung one load up (I had to hang the other load). We had leftovers for dinner. He said he was tired. I said yeah, I do it all every day. He said but I work. I said yeah so do I. He said he works out of the house. Well I have to wait until everyone’s sleeping and then work late at night.


He took the kids out to the pool and stuff, when I got back he was out somewhere with some friends and he had the baby in a stroller. I said where’s mini me, he said at home playing a video game.

Whatever they did, it exhausted the baby. Plus she didn’t get an afternoon nap. Because she was tiiiired. As soon as I gave her a bath, she fell asleep in my arms. Still passed out cold. 

Work time. Thinking about how it’s piled up is going to send me into a slight panic. Maybe I should make some coffee. Even though it’s 8:30 at night.

mr. mom

I’m pretty much exhausted. Taking care of a ten year old and a six month old all day.

Breakfast for one, trying to feed first baby food to the other, homework, crying, trip to the jidokan, trip to the shop, trip to the pool, dinner and baby bath and sleep.

And now I have to do four hours of work.

He says he will do everything tomorrow and he’s going to be Mr. Mom. He better. I was going to say I’ll believe it when I see it, but I guess he’ll do it.

Mini me was like, “papa does stuff, like he washes the dishes and cooks sometimes.” I said yeah, sometimes. I do it all the time. And we both work.

He was like, oh.

Anyways, I’m visiting my friend and her new baby at the hospital and they don’t let babies or kids into the maternity ward, so I have to leave her at home. So he’s going to have to be Mr. Mom tomorrow. He said he’s taking everyone to the pool too.