Who…are…you…?

I’ve been thinking a lot about who I am lately. What I was and now who am I?

Back before pregnancy, before baby, you were someone- your had your own identity. Maybe you were the career woman with your power suit and your blunt bob haircut. Or maybe you were a granola/crunchy gal wearing all natural fiber hemp clothing, and if it’s not organic you didn’t even want to see it. You could have been the party girl, who is down for ANYTHING! Shots at two pm on a Tuesday? Sounds great!

Me? I won’t even try to hide it- I was the high maintenance girl. I loved fancy restaurants, fashion, nice vacations, and looking good if I left the house. I would go out every weekend, and had a super full luxury life. I was very extra as the youths say.

Fast forward, I have my baby and my identity is tied into what my baby needs and I’m like wtf happened?

Where is that girl that always had good hair? Obviously I’m just talking about all of the surface stuff here, but let’s dig a little deeper. Before your tiny human came along, your priority and individual happiness was determined by your choices for yourself. Basically, it was all about you.

Now with a baby, When you get home from the hospital you literally are a dairy cow – that’s your identity.  Nothing is about you. I was in such a fog for about a month. I had no ankles, my legs were swollen, and I was so bloated that I lived in old lady night gowns. My job was to sleep and take care of my baby. But my skin had no color, I had no appetite, and I was basically a shell. Over time, I adjusted and started putting on pants and getting my shit together. But in the beginning I was scared, I didn’t recognize myself.

Now, Nola is five months and I have started doing a few things just for me again so I’m not lost in the baby land abyss. It’s not the same self. I want to still be a Lindsey…. but I also want to be a mom. It’s a constant balancing act.

I talk to a lot of moms who are still stuck in baby land, where the entire universe surrounds your baby. I encourage you to start doing SOMETHING for yourself again. Try to remember who you were before kids and what was important to you. Become a hybrid version of yourself. To me that’s the definition of super mom!

So, just because you have a baby doesn’t mean you have to wear turtlenecks, drive a mini van, and get the hair cut with bangs all the way around your head. Unless you want to of course!

You still can be you…. and a mom.

Cheers till next week!

Like a Virgin…

Hi… WELCOME! I’m new here too. I’m not a writer. My writing will not be perfect, or my grammar, or spelling err… like a LOT will be wrong. But I’m real. I’m a real woman and mother. I will write and speak like one. This ain’t yo mommas blog. I will swear, I will drink but, one thing, I will be real with you on everything. I want to be that friend every woman needs, maybe doesn’t want but needs. So let’s do this shit and get started shall we?

I just moved with my husband, four month old daughter and two dogs to San Diego from San Francisco. I had my village (I hate that stupid saying, so fucking annoying, but it’s true). I had my places: my coffee shop where I would order my lavender lattes and run into Rebecca my hippie friend who owns a yoga studio who always has something positive to say. I had my nail lady who knew EXACTLY how to do my nails I didn’t even need to say a word or make an appointment. I even had my friend at Trader Joe’s and we’d have a fun little banter. I had my mom friends and my girl friends and our couple friends. I had all my things and stuff. Again, that stupid village saying…. Well I had it.

I also had a thriving salon business. I am a stylist and make up artist; if you’re ever in Poway, California look me up! Or follow my hair pics on Instagram @PrettyPineappleDesigns. I loved watching my business grow. It made me feel like I was somebody with something to offer the world. I had a waitlist and an assistant. I felt like I watched something I grew into something awesome.  I got to a point where I treated my self to a new Louis Vuitton bag after having such a good year. I felt like a bad ass girl boss!

I’m not going to write out my whole life story because lets me honest… who gives a shit? My husband and I decided to have a baby. I got preggo pretty quick and let me tell you pregnancy was a BITCH for me. I barfed every day my first trimester, second trimester I went to New Orleans for Jazzfest (had a ball) and started getting cramps and contractions. When I got home the doctor told me basically I was an idiot and needed to chill the F out. So I kept floating along getting bigger by the second and not really exercising and resting as much as I could. And then I got gestational diabetes, a type of diabetes only possible while you are pregnant and it sucks. Google it if you want to learn about it. I won’t bore you with the details but I did have to poke my finger every 4 hours every damn day.

Flash forward, I get induced because again the stupid GD and had a bitch of a labor. I pushed for four hours, had all the drugs any would give me. And still, my girl did not want to make an appearance. I ended up getting a c-section. But Nola Grace was born a happy healthy girl! I spent five days in the hospital and came home a mom.

Coming home, I had all these ideas what it would be like. I would walk every day and with breast-feeding I’d lose all the weight in three months ba-da-bing-ba-da-boom. Yeah, fucking right. I looked like I got hit by a bus every day. I would look in the mirror and think to myself who is this? Surely, not me. The hospital also gave me lovely drugs to take for the pain. So life just kept going and I was slightly numb to it all and still healing. Then, I will never forget the day those little pills were gone. I went to go take one and there was none. And I realized, this is my real life. I’m still in pain but there’s no coasting anymore. It hurts, it’s not fun and you just pick yourself up and keep going. And I started walking every day. Breast feeding didn’t work out well for me either. I cried, and tried everything but Nola was too impatient and I didn’t produce enough. At four and a half months I just let it go.

So, when my daughter was two months old my husband got a new job in San Diego. We up and move. My two sisters live here in San Diego and my in-laws are two hours away. So, I walk away from it all. My career, my friends and everything familiar, with a  two month old and new identity… Mom.

I’ve been in San Diego now for two months and I am in this weird but magical place. I am  at a salon one day a week. What the hell do I do with myself you ask? Well thats why I’m here. I’m getting myself back. When Nola was a month old she wanted me to wear her 24/7. That meant that even while I was peeing I would wear her, literally like a second skin. And I hated my body, it was lumps and shapes. The ideas I had of what I was going to be were obviously total bull shit.

Moving to San Diego I have joined a workout club, cook every meal, and am working on my self-image and my identity of being a new mom. That is what I’m going to write about. You don’t like what I have to say? Totally fine, these are all just my opinions. But, I’m super excited to start this journey now that you know who I am. Stay tuned, and let’s get weird!

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