things i love thursday! (august 9, 2012)

Okay. So maybe it’s true that I don’t leave the house much. And maybe most of my days are pretty identical. And perhaps no one else in the world cares about what I’m up to since giving birth. But so what! I have love anyway! (And honesty, how could one not, when bathed in the afterglow of the miracle of childbirth?)

Perhaps that phrase wasn’t the best to use in this context.

No matter! Here’s this week’s list of love! (Pardon my sleep-deprived mommy brain, though. It might be shorter and less coherent than normal.)



  • That picture. Cracks me up!
  • Lots and lots of visitors!
  • Outings with the family.
  • The sling. Until Dax wakes up and hates it.
  • Not getting dressed all day.
  • Naps.
  • Free food.
  • Starbucks Refreshers.
  • Three Musketeers.
  • Banana pudding.
  • Seriously though. Food.
  • Getting e-cards for Dax from G-ma.
  • Not knowing what day it is.
  • Taking Dax to church for the first time! And then out to dinner! He fits in well with our group of friends.
  • Wine and beer!
  • Letting Dax snuggle friends who are having bad weeks.
  • Sweet cards and gifts in the mail. They keep coming!
  • Seeing Cameron for a hot second while she was in town!
  • Pawn Stars on Netflix.
  • Reading to Dax.
  • But not the hippopotamus! 
  • Letting people other than Dan or myself change Dax’s diapers.
  • The little noises Dax makes when he nurses or has his paci.
  • Life as a mommy.

What do you love this week?

why are we rooting for someone like don draper?

I’ve gotten a lot of gifts as a new mom. Nipple cream, breast pads, gift cards, onesies… but if I had to pick one thing all new moms should have it would be  this:


If I have done one thing pretty much constantly since giving birth, it’s breastfeed. But if I’ve done two things pretty much constantly, it’s breastfeed and watch things on Netflix. Every new mom should be gifted a subscription to Netflix streaming. (Nipple cream, too.)

Currently, I’m about halfway through the second season of Mad Men. I’d never seen it before because we never had AMC, and a large majority of my friends are really into it, so I felt like I was left out of some exclusive club.

But not anymore! Several years later, I’m finally at the party, y’all. Will someone take my coat and hand me a cig?

I know what you’re thinking: Lindsay is going to blog about all the horrible, misogynist themes of the show. How predictable.

Well, the joke’s on you! That’s not what I’m going to blog about! That’s too easy. While it’s true that, based on the content of the show, women must have been treated pretty poorly in the 60s (and evidently all married men screwed around on their wives, most likely because Internet porn wasn’t invented yet) that’s not why I’m blogging about Mad Men. 

I guess I have to give props to the show because it makes me feel things I don’t want to feel. It makes me uneasy. It makes me question things. I’ve sent out a handful of texts and tweets over the past few days asking real, honest questions about why in the hell are we rooting for Don Draper? 

Being that I’m only a season and a half deep in this thing, I’m not entirely sure why we want to pull for a protagonist that lies, steals, and cheats his way through life. But so far, this is what I gather.

Don is running from a supremely dark past. And, I’d argue, a lot of us have that in common with him.

Even though it feels like I’m the only person on the planet who hadn’t seen Mad Men, maybe there are other people out there who have yet to get into this series. So I won’t spoil anything for all two of you out there. But I will say this: as bleak and twisted as you think your past is, I guarantee you that Don Draper’s is far worse.

Today, I accidentally hurt my child for the first time. Not bad, mind you. But it happened. While he was nursing, I accidentally drug my fingernail across his nose. No blood was drawn. No mark was even left. But it made him stop feeding so he could scream. It made me so sad. And, because I’m about 3 weeks postpartum and still constantly chugging a deadly hormone cocktail, I started panicking over the future counseling bills I’d be footing for him to work out his mommy issues. But this instance reminded me that once people are outside of the womb, they are exposed to all kinds of awful things. Pain. Disappointment. Lies. Sadness. Things we might want to run from later.

I am not without those things.

I spoke with my brother on the phone today. We talked about some things that I’m running from at present. Feeling at one with Mr. Draper, which is a bit unsettling, it gave me something to think about.

How do we take the best from our past experiences and leave the rest in the dust?

My eating disorder being a part of my past is definitely bad. It’s embarrassing, sad, and damaging. But it is also good — it reminds me that I was able to overcome something that had such a strong hold on me. It being a part of my past gives me hope for the future.

I don’t know that Don can say the same thing about his past, but I can only hope that as the seasons progress, he lands at that conclusion. (I’m not all that hopeful of that, to be honest, but no spoilers anyway!)

postpartum body image.

Let’s call this blog post a victory lap, shall we?

At two weeks postpartum, I’m in a very awkward stage as far as my body goes. I can’t fit into my pre-pregnancy pants yet, but my maternity pants are just a bit too baggy. Similarly, the number on the scale is considerably smaller than it was two weeks ago, but it’s still one that I’ve only ever seen since becoming pregnant.

The Lindsay from several years ago would probably be crippled by depression over this. She would most likely be missing out on all the wonderful blessings surrounding her newborn boy because she’d be too concerned about dropping the baby weight as fast as possible. And she’d definitely be completely inconsolable over her ridiculous new bra size. (For the record, I still have no idea what my actual bra size is. Thanks, nursing sports bras! You’re the best!)

But no. Not anymore.

I’d argue that, if anything, pregnancy has taken my body image and radically transformed it into something magnificent. Sure, my midsection is as soft as a pile of bread dough and is decorated by a couple of new stripes. And maybe I’m not entirely sure what “size” I am anymore. And let’s not get started on what my BMI says about me at present.


As completely cliche as it sounds, I’ve never loved my body more than I do right now. Here’s why:

1. my body built a life.

Every time I look at my son — my beautiful, perfect, angelic son — I am in complete awe. My body is the instrument God used to create my sweet baby boy. It’s a true miracle, really.

2. my body sustains that life.

All I have to do in order to make sure my baby is fed is stick him to my boob. Bam. Fed.

(Also, to drive this point home, watch Jim Gaffigan’s stand up special called “Mr. Universe”. It’s on Netflix.)

3. i’ve never felt more loved.

Okay, so maybe it’s true that my two-week-old baby doesn’t really give a crap whether or not I have horns, so long as I feed him every two hours and change his diaper as needed. BUT BUT BUT it’s really nice to feel so loved, no matter what my body looks like. My son couldn’t care less if I ever lose the baby weight — or grow horns — he just wants me to be near.

4. for the first time in my life, i’m letting myself be loved.

Not just by my son, but by my husband and my friends and my family, too. For the first time since I can remember, I’m consciously letting myself be loved, without asking “why” or “how” or anything, just because I am me. Not because I look a certain way — because that “certain way” is definitely NOT what I look like right now, and I might never again — but because I simply am. Because I am a wife. Because I am Mommy. Because I am a friend. Because I am family. I am loved and that’s the end of that.

In today’s society, I think that too much pressure is put on new moms to get back to their pre-pregnancy form as soon as possible. What with celebrities like Beyonce gracing the front covers of magazines mere weeks after giving birth, it’s easy for new moms to feel insecure about their so-called ravaged bodies. But as for me, someone who has a past that is pock-marked by disordered eating, I refuse to fall victim to that.

There is nothing — I repeat, nothing — in this world that I have done that holds a candle to carrying my healthy, perfect, wonderful baby boy to term and giving birth to him. Nothing. And if I’m a bit pudgy and stretch-marky afterward? Let it be. I couldn’t be more proud of my body and the miracles it is capable of.

Put that in your beauty-obsessed pipe and smoke it.

things i love thursday! (august 2, 2012)

So. We’ve been blessed with a newborn who refuses to be happy unless he’s held. This makes blogging quite difficult.

But at any rate, we have lots of things to love this week. Here we go!


  • My baby boy smiling and laughing in his sleep. So stinkin’ precious.
  • Pretty much everything that my baby boy does. Minus the crying.
  • Naps.
  • Being able to spend time with my mom and my husband and my baby boy.
  • Watching an insane amount of Netflix/Hulu Plus.
  • Speaking of — I’m not entirely sure how I feel about Mad Men but Pawn Stars is hilarious!
  • The fact that me being a honey badger has caught on like wildfire.
  • Being blessed by our community in so many ways since Dax was born.
  • Packages and letters in the mail! Like, the snail kind!
  • Anonymous gifts. Wow. God is so good.
  • Being able to go out to dinner for our third wedding anniversary.
  • Delicious steak and red wine. Yum.
  • Getting dressed up! (Let’s be real — getting dressed PERIOD.)
  • Taking baby boy out to show him off.
  • Getting so many visitors.
  • Having Elizabeth Joy stop by to hang out and also getting to SHOWER while she was here! (Dax won’t sleep unless he’s held.)
  • My cute, wonderful family.

What do you love?