Kat's Playbook

Wanna know what I am doing right now??  Currently going through our Senior High School yearbook and typing up all the names of our class.  That is correct, I am planning our high school reunion.  I am in a major flashback mode and can't believe I have signed up for this one!!   Now I just need to convince my closest BFF's that they should come (yes, Tori, that means you!!)

Posted in: High School on Sunday, December 6, 2009 at 1 comments    

When you look up the definition of Poise, it states:

1.        a state of balance or equilibrium, as from equality or equal distribution of weight; equipoise.
2.        a dignified, self-confident manner or bearing; composure; self-possession
3.        steadiness; stability

But what does Poise mean to me?  PAIN. Absolute PAIN.

So leading up to the Big Birth Day, my sister-in-law reminded me that I should pick up some pads.  Very. Large. Pads. Now, I have to admit that it has been since I was 12 since I last purchased or used pads, so I didn't really know what I was looking for.  But I figured the bigger the better.

Here I was in Target, looking at all the different pads out there, when I very quickly decided on a box of Poise.  Quick...because I didn't want anyone to think I needed Depends, nor did I want anyone to ask me when I was having my twins.

Fast forward to our new family of three back at home:

Gator Guy and my Super Mom both heard me yell out from the bathroom, "Get. The. Vicodin."

You see, there is a difference between sanitary pads and Poise pads.  The difference is what caused me PAIN.  The difference, is that sanitary pads just soak.  Poise pads....PULL moisture.  Yes....Think about it.  Especially those mom's out there, think about it.  And especially those that had freaking stitches like I did...think about it...and cringe.  PAIN.

Posted in: Body after baby, Postpartum, pregnancy on Wednesday, December 2, 2009 at 3 comments    

That's right.  The moment is here.  The moment I am going to regret....The moment I am going to  post my belly 7 days after giving birth.

Let's just remind ourselves the before shot at 38 weeks...defying gravity, looking very octo-momish:

And now the 7 days after...

That's right, you can be officially grossed out with me.  And what does it feel like you ask.... Bread dough.  Mushy gross disgusting bread dough. And again, I ask you to please remind yourself of my rule #1.  Because you have to be honest, if you saw the bread belly in public, you would think...aww, how cute!! I wonder when she is due??And then I would proceed to kick you in the shin.  So again, please remember rule #1.  

But you wanna know what I was the most excited about:

Posted in: Belly, Body after baby, Motherhood, Postpartum, pregnancy on Monday, November 30, 2009 at 5 comments    

So I have a rule.  A rule that all men, women, and children should learn and follow religiously.

Rule #1:  DO NOT ask a women when she is due, how far along she is, if she is having a boy or girl, or anything else to do with pregnancy UNTIL YOU HAVE CONFIRMED THAT HER BUMP IS A BABY BUMP!!

And trust me, this is very easy to confirm.  If you give just a little smile...a little smirk, a glowing pregnant woman will smile back because she knows you have noticed that she is growing an exceptionally smart baby!   BUT if she looks down at the ground, turns her body, or ignores you in away....WALK AWAY.  Do not speak.  Do not even gesture.  This means that she is either not pregnant, or so ginormous and close to the end that she wants no conversation at all.

I was very close to violating my rule at Baby Gap, when I was about to ask the sales attendant when she was due.  And THANK GOD, she quickly made a comment about her 2 month old baby.  (Whew, that was a close one).  However, this just reconfirmed my importance of the rule.

Rule #2, DO NOT ASK WHEN SHE IS DELIVERY HER OTHER TWIN

So here we were...on cloud nine...after 48 hours at home with our newest addition, and leaving our house for  Mr. T's doctor appointment.  Gator Guy and I stood proudly in the lobby waiting for the elevator.  Soon, an Idiot-of-a-woman walks up and asks:

"Oh, how old is he?"
We both say, "4 days old.",  (Damn we are good, already responding in unison)

Idiot-of-a-woman looks at me kind of funny and then asks, "So then did you have one twin and still need to deliver the other?"

WOW...surely she is just being sarcastic (and rude), and yet she didn't stop there...
We both just laughed not knowing what to say or how to answer.

Idiot-of-a-woman then asks, "No really, so do I take that as a yes?"
OMG - Holy crap... she was f-ing serious. Who says that?!?
I said, "Nope just one baby", biting my tongue trying not to laugh and thanking my hormones that I'm not bursting into tears.
And yet she was still not done...

Idiot-of-a-woman looks at Mr. T again and then asks me, "So....then is he yours?"
"Yep, he's mine, and I still have the baby bump."
She says, "Oh well, I guess it does take time for that to go down. Well congratulations."

Yes congratulations....congratulations to the Idiot-of-a-woman who did not get a kick in the shins, punch in the face, tripped in the hallway, or a bucket of tears as the hormones could have taken over.  Congratulations to me for handling myself like an adult and just walking away...hysterical, and glad that Gator Guy was there to whiteness  such an act of idiotness.


And please stay tuned...because I will soon become brave (or stupid) and show you just what a belly 2 days after birth looks like.

Posted in: baby, Body after baby, Hormones, Motherhood, Postpartum on Wednesday, November 25, 2009 at 2 comments    

So when I got the BFP and spread the word to work, I began to have an irrational fear of my water breaking at any moment. In my fearful hormonal mind, it would happen when I would be sitting in a Board Meeting, would have to excuse myself, while saying, "Sorry about the chair, I will buy you a new one."

Or I would be sitting on the LightRail, and would experience giving birth on public transportation. That really happened in my city...she was on the news and everything. So let me tell you, I would much rather have my 15 minutes be for something WAY better than bringing my little one into the world while singing the Wheels On The Bus Go Round and Round.

And so, my irrational fear carried over to my Unnecessary Emergency Kit, in which I carried around in my purse for weeks (probably the entire 3rd Trimester). My kit, was a small little make up bag:

Yes, a doggy pee pad. (Just the pad, not the dog) And now you ask, what the heck was I going to do with the Doggy Pee Pad?? I HAVE NO FREAKING CLUE!!

Its not like you know when your water breaks to pull out the absorbent material. And its not like your water breaks, and then break again for a second time. I think I always imagined that if my water did break and I was forced to be on the LightRail, cab, or in a coworkers car, I would sit on the Doggy Pee Pad to make them and me feel better about ruining their leather seats.

I know, this does not make any sense. But I made sure I had this little Unnecessary Emergency Kit with me everywhere. Crazy Hormones.

Posted in: 3rd Trimester, baby, Hormones, pregnancy on Friday, November 20, 2009 at 3 comments    

Posted in: 1st trimester, 2nd Trimester, 3rd Trimester, baby, Belly, Motherhood, Only a Mother Would Say, pregnancy on Monday, November 16, 2009 at 3 comments    

So even before we found out that Mr. T was going to be a boy, I'm pretty sure that my hormones were trying to tell me something. How is that you ask? Well, I seemed to be crying at everything sports related.

I of course cried while watching Rudy (but come on...that's a freebie, because who doesn't?!?).
But then you throw in Cool Runnings. When that team picks up their bobsled at the very end and everyone starts to clap....Water works for Kat!And let's count how many times I cried at the Bronco Game:
1. For the national anthem.
2. For the Fly By
3. When the team ran out
4. For Each and EVERY time the Broncos scored. Which I think was only 3, but still. I was a sobbing mess. Luckily I had sunglasses on and my dear husband (Gator Guy) just kept his laughter to himself.
5. And then when we lost....to Miami

But the most memorial was the first time in my life that I cried while watching ESPN's College Game Day (Here is the second)

Here I was, sitting next to Gator Guy, reading the paper...or really just looking at the ads, and drinking my coffee (yes, coffee), when College Game Day begins their heart felt story of the day. I have seen these stories before, and I know that they can be touching just like Extreme Make Over Home Edition.

But the second I look up and see Joe Paterno, I begin to tear up. First of all, we are Bronco Fans, Gator Fans, and Ram Fans. I have never had an attachment to Penn State...until this day. Once ESPN queued in the music (The Story by Brandi Carlile), the waterworks began and I was a sobbing-snotty-mess that we have seen before. The hormones had taken over.

And so, join me in a moment to honor Joe Paterno. JoePa. Papa Joe.

Posted in: 2nd Trimester, Football, Hormones, pregnancy, sports on Friday, November 13, 2009 at 0 comments    

There comes a few times in your life when you are at 4th Down & Inches and need just a little bit more. When you lay down on the bed to get those pants zipped up, do a few squats in hopes that your jeans will stretch, or need breathing room after that big Thanksgiving dinner. But the time when I really needed a few more inches to make it to the next play...was of course my pregnancy. I honestly had no clue what maternity pants were all about. And after the first shopping experience with my mom I quickly decided that I would make my current clothes work for as long as I could.
First of all they throw in the belly pillow in the dressing rooms like that is suppose to make you feel better. I don't know about you, but my first thought was, "How many bare tummies has this thing touched". And then I thought..."Surely I won't be this big for quite some time" WRONG. So since the elastic-leotard-make-me-feel-like-Steve-Urkel maternity pants were not in the front of my wardrobe right away, I needed some time. A Time Out. A Delay of the Game.

Step One:


Step Two:

Step Three:

Posted in: 1st trimester, 2nd Trimester, baby, Belly, pregnancy on Sunday, November 8, 2009 at 0 comments