Maybe I'm just a dork who messes around on New Year's making cheesy movies of her kids......but I'll own that title all year long.
May 2009 bring us all the joys and wonders of 2008 and more.....Happy Freaking New Year everyone. Happy Freaking New Year.
I'm happy for the short visit I had with my uncle last night and this morning. A trip down my way as a favor to the Amish folk in my home town to grab their snow plows built for horse wagons. They are going to put up the trusses on his new house he's building at his pond in return. I love the barter system they've got going on with one another. Makes for a tight community and a more satisfying relationship when it's two sided.
:)
I enjoyed making home made waffles for the girls' breakfast this morning, and a little one on one time with Sydney playing games.
I'm not very good at faking the lose....but I did it anyway.
:)
I am thinking about my inside thoughts a lot lately (and the outside ones, too) and how to put the good out front and let go of the bad before it really makes any kind of impression on my mood/day/week. It's not easy because, admittedly, I stress a lot. As would a lot of people if their days were filled to the brim with shitty diapers. Today? FIVE. Not counting the number of shitty asses I wiped but I'm trying to keep the details to a minimum.
Happy thoughts, happy thoughts, happy thoughts.
Okay.
Anyway. The point of this post is I'm thinking of changing the way I write in this blog. I want to bring the Happy out and shine the light on it. I think if I start little proclamations of victories and special moments in my day there will be less opportunity for the black to peak through.
Today my happiness is watching Emily's sweet side shine through and the naughty side fade somewhat. She has started to throw less tantrums and begin to respond to short bouts of discipline. She is learning, albeit slowly, to share even when it hurts her little heart to do so. She might even have to sit in a time out chair screaming for two straight minutes, but when she's released from her prison, she moves on. Most of the time.
Progress people, progress.
She has been showing a lot of love lately to her sisters in the form of hugs and hugs and hugs. Occasionally a kiss sneaks in there with it. She has also started to say "I love you, MAMA!".
These are my little victories today.
That's going to be ME if I have to listen to another day of the whining, whining, whining from the toddler, toddler, toddler. DUDE - SHUT UP ALREADY! I heard you, I know you're mad but for crying out loud would you put a damn cork in it?
You're driving us ALL INSANE!!!!!
Each month flipped over on the calendar, each day that passes by, is one more minute closer to the move. Put all the stress aside of getting a job, selling a house, getting a new home to live in and you suddenly remember this little girl who's whole world is all wrapped up in her third grader self. Her friends. The school play. Mr. E. Times tables. Chorus. The list goes on and on. She's a girl with places to go and people to see and in a few short months we're going to rip the carpet right out from underneath her footing.
I have to ask her to leave her life behind. Her friends. Her school. Her future as she knows isn't really known at all. I have the talks and go all fortune cookie on her...blah, blah, blah. The world is a big place, look at what you're going to gain, not what you'll lose sort of talk. But it doesn't make it better.
She cries. The silent cry where the eyes well up and tears fall down her face but she knows she can't change it so she doesn't make a sound. She just lets the sadness in and cries. I have to continue with the talks and face the heartache and help her through it because she's soft. She's so soft that I have to prepare her gently and let her feel the emotion slowly, months in advance, so that she doesn't seize up with sadness when the time comes to say good bye.
She'll be 9 and she'll have to say good-bye to her other half. Her best friend. The kind of best friend you share a necklace with and tell secrets to. The kind of best friend that you argue with daily because you're cool like that. You can fight and still love each other a few moments later. Like sisters.
I hate to ask this of her. This hurts more than any other good bye I've ever had to say because it's not my hurt. It's hers. And it's not her choice to do this. It's ours. It's a choice that we made before we even came here. Moving was always inevitable, even knowing full well that our little baby's world would change in the process.
I'm not sorry that we made this decision. Jamie's PhD is a big investment in our future and Cornell is a part of that investment. It doesn't change the consequences of our decision though. Her consequences. This move is going to shape her in some small way, for the better I believe, but growth sometimes calls for sacrifice.
Sacrifices I wish she didn't have to make.
I'm sorry, kid. Mama loves you and will hold your hand the whole way.
Promise.
Awwwww Yeah!! I've been fighting the inevitable wean with Abby but slowly starting to come to terms with the limits my body has given me. Apparently, the return of my menses has given my body much to contemplate. She doesn't want conflicting hormones doing the tango week to week and just seized up the old milk supply.
I was devastated.
Now I'm fine.
We're still kinda sorta nursing at night because I'm very lazy at 2 am and she doesn't care. She wants her mother and the physical comfort nursing gives her at night. So technically, we're still nursing. I'm okay with that. The same thing happened with Emily except she just up and quit cold turkey and I was in tears for a week.
Until I took my stash out of the freezer. Then I was listening to the Dead and sneaking out into the garage at night. Miraculously, I was fine after that.
With the dreaded return of aforementioned women's issue, I suddenly feel like I have wings again. I'm ready to swing from the chandelier and get a little jiggy with it.
Jamie say's you can't take a guy out of the desert and give him a gallon of water. WhaaaaaaaT?
I told him he needs to strike while the iron is hot. Lucky for him, he did.
I know that's a little TMI but after two back to back pregnancies I'm pretty stoked to find small parts of myself returning. Abby is still just 6 months and there's a LONG way to go still. But it's looking up and I couldn't be happier.
The best part bar none? I CANNOT GET PREGNANT AGAIN (right Dr. Herzlbetz? RIGHT DR. HERZLBETZ!)!!! Now I only have to read about OTHER people being preggo and shout GLAD THAT'S NOT ME!!
.
For just being you.
YOU FOOL ME!! WE CAN'T GET FOOLED AGAIN!
Bwahahahahahaha!! Oh MAN!! I love this shit.
I am a Pisces. Pisces is a water sign. And these???
My children's initials. In that order.
The stars sent them to me.
My mom moved out of the trailer I grew up in and into an elderly "community". It's an apartment building for low income elderly and handicapped. Her sister lives in the same building which will make their Skip-Bo and Yahtzee playing all the more accessible.
It is a good thing for her. Rising fuel costs make it next to impossible for her to live off her social security and disability. Plus she won't be alone all the time. I'm grateful that her life will have more in it. Even if I'm not part of that physically.
I miss her so much sometimes. I don't talk about it or let myself go there because it causes me a lot of sadness. It's different when you're raised by your grandmother. I miss the mother she is, I miss the mother I wanted her to be and I miss the mother I need in my life right now. She's a good person and a good mother given her up-bringing and her own relationship with her mother. Tough, strong women. Life experiences have added to that shell. The softness and understanding that I needed as a child and the friend I need as a woman are there but our age differences have kept me from experiencing it firsthand. At least not in the way I would have chosen. But we don't get to choose. We just get to love.
This is the next step in her life. It's her right to move on and let age take it's course. But it hurts a little to see the changes. It sucks to be so far away. I'm not able to identify a new home with her or find where I fit in. It's unnatural to watch your mother slip away from old age when you're just barely coming into your own.
Eventually I will accept that my kids will not go to grandma's house for Thanksgiving or help her make donuts at the kitchen table. They won't spend the night or eat one of her popcorn balls. All that's left of that home are memories. I'll just have to share those instead.
I'm not talking about the election, though a momentous occasion for us all to witness, it's not where words escape me. I've got lots to say about how proud I am that we let our voices be heard, just not today.
Today I'm talking about Emily. My baby girl, born just two years ago this week. I intended on a nice long letter proclaiming my adoration for this child. But there are no words.
I'm incapable of penning just how big my heart has become since she entered my life. How incredibly big it has to be because sometimes it's just.so.hard. being her mother. How it's bursting at the seems because of her precious dimple and naughty little grin. And how it's overflowing with gratefulness that I get to witness this child's life blossom.
I love her. So much so that it hurts sometimes and not even because she's kicking me in the shin. It's like a tender ache that never really goes away. I love her when she hurts me, I love her when she pleases me and I love, love, love her when she's being her whimsical, vibrant self. She never ceases to amaze me at every corner.
She came out screaming and has since continued. She has a lot to say. A lot of passion. A lot of thoughts and needs she wants to express. It is at the top of her lungs that she informs you she's happy, or mad, or sad. It's all announced at a ten. Never a two, or even half way at five. It's *always* ten. And I couldn't be any happier or more exasperated at the same time to experience this tiny child proclaiming herself to the world with such intensity.
She is going places, that one. And if you're lucky, she just might take you with her.
From Wikipedia
"Terrorism is the systematic use of terror especially as a means of coercion. Most common definitions of terrorism include only those acts which are intended to create fear (terror), are perpetrated for an ideological goal (as opposed to a lone attack), and deliberately target or disregard the safety of non-combatants. Some definitions also include acts of unlawful violence and war."
Why then, Sarah, is it not considered "terrorism", if those particular terror seekers are bombing say, an abortion clinic.
Oh, right. They support your agenda.
Just checkin'. *wink*
*sigh*
Writing about the mundane, the daily grind, if you will, becomes rather stale after a couple of years. I've been at a loss for words, or rather, a loss of time for words. I even thought I might delete the blog all together because I just don't have time and all I seem to ever do is complain anyway. It's depressing that all I have to write about is the plight of motherhood. But that is the stuff that needs to be purged and left behind on a piece of paper, or a small byte in the internet universe.
I don't want this blech lurking on my sleeves; I want it gone. I want to write it out of my mind so I can move on to happier things. Like E's much anticipated entrance into the world of speech. Or A's delightful squeals as she scampers through the house in her walker. There's always the budding relationship between mother and tween daughter to nurture and admire. Those are the things that keep me here and not at some desk typing numbers.
I will keep my blog. Just pardon all the heavy banter. Forgive me of my reluctance to write anything at all. Know that I am here in spirit but the body is off changing a shitty diaper. Like three a day. And that's a slow day.
As far as the lately is concerned. Things have been crazy. Someone has been sick in our house for the past 7 weeks. For the first 4 or so it was DH. The last three it was the babies and me. E had pneumonia and A was teetering too close if you ask me. I got the cold and with that came a nasty ear and sinus infection. We are all starting to come out of the funk but it has been a long couple of months. A depressing couple of months.
A big problem that occurred as a result of all this was the sudden drop in milk supply. Ugh! A was suffering and was taking bottles; I thought it was going to be the end of our time together. Luckily I have been able to get back on track. But I'm not sure how long it will last. This seems to be a problem of mine after 4 or 5 months. I'm going to try and continue as long as we can. I really want to bf longer this time. It feels so important to me. I'm putting a few things on the back burner to help make it possible. One being the constant struggle to kick start my weight loss.
I'm so sick of dealing with the yo yo and decided to take it easy and let my body feed my baby first. I have the rest of my life to get strong and loose the baby weight. First things first, KWIM? I just can't concentrate on one without adding the stress to the other and it's worth it to stay a size whatever I am if it means that A and I get to nurse for as long as we want.
Other than that the world seems rather dull. It has been so consumed with sickness and Dr. visits (5 in one week), antibiotics and Mother's Milk Tea that I'm about to barf my fenugreek all over the floor. This weekend I'm going to take a breather and carve me a kick ass pumpkin with my kids. Or maybe it will just be three triangles and a mouth with a couple of teeth. But maybe well get crazy up in here and make circles instead of triangles. Or *gasp*squares..
Are you kidding me? Overwhelmed, over stressed, over worked, under appreciated, sleep deprived are just a few words that describe most mothers. If you can't admit to any or all of these than you can add one more descriptor to your profile.
In denial.
Life happens and it can be so difficult with the pressures of reaching perfection and keeping up with the over achievers that we forget about the important things. Even more challenging is admitting to yourself when you just can't do it all.
Oprah's topic on her Wednesday's show was about exactly that. America's mothers are under an extreme amount of pressure to exceed in all aspects of life. Having the perfect career, being the perfect mother, being the best cook, the best wife, the Mrs. fix-it all and look good while doing it. This type of standard is insane to live up to. And I'm pissed about it.
What's the price for aiming too high? The woman who appeared on Oprah paid the price of her daughter's life. I can't even imagine or put myself in that place, but you know what? A time or two that could be me. Life is distracting. There is so much to do and so little time to do it all that sometimes your priorities slip a little bit. This kid has a poopy diaper and the door isn't locked and the curious one ends up on your front lawn, just feet away from a busy road before you scoop her up in your arms. Or you gently lift your baby out of her bath tub and by request you leave the water there for your oldest to play in and the toddler ends up in it face first. And she can't get out. And she can't breath and the only reason she is still around is because her sister was there to help her out.
I'm not even kidding. Both of these have happened to me.
My first reaction two years ago to someone losing their kid to negligence was a harsh judgement. What horrible parent would put their child in danger. My tune has since changed.
No parent wants that to be the one. No parent wants to be so busy they forget their baby is in the car but it happens.
The funny thing about the show for me was that I had a similar mental conversation with myself that morning. I was wondering how people do it. How do people create the perfect world and hold it all together while the souffle is in the oven? When does the souffle fall? Am I so inept at being a mother?
I have all I can handle at the moment with a household of three children, a husband working on his doctorate and a small daycare business on the side to make ends meet. And I have to tell you, it's tough. It is hard to keep the house clean, the laundry done, the dinners cooked and the husband satisfied all the while raising three kids. Two of whom are under two, another with nightly homework duties and a whole set of her own needs to be met. Add three more kids for daycare every afternoon and it's nothing short of exhausting. There really isn't time left for the extra's all the time.
There comes a time when you have to say enough is enough. Slow your roll a little bit mom because you're making the rest of us look like shit. Set some priorities. Say no once in a while. Go see a movie and eat buttered popcorn. Sit down and braid your daughters hair. That expense report will be there when you're done. That laundry will wait until able hands are ready to fold it.
Then maybe there will be less mistakes. Then our overwhelmed will be content. Then our over worked will be rested. Then our stress will become ease. And maybe then life can start to take on a different description.
Happy.
Isn't that what we're all trying so hard to accomplish anyway?
The Great Pumpkin is a big fat jerk. Sure, she may have created the awesomely wonderful pictures to your left and for that the children of the world are grateful. However, Oh Great Pumpkin, you are indeed now dubbed as a failure for slacking off when it comes to the children saying "Thank-You".
I'm not really sure how you could let this sort of thing slide Great Pumpkin. How could you let the children down? Don't you even think about the children? Because this morning the children were pissed that you could just ignore the creative prowess of these 8 year old girls who were clearly begging for just one more visit. If you could've only come more time they would be the happiest third graders on earth. I mean....didn't you see the effort!! The LOVE!!! THE HOPE in their hearts???? 
Take a good look Great Pumpkin. NO! YOU LOOK AT IT! See the tear stains? The tear stains that dripped from the weeping eyes of overly dramatic almost pre-teen princesses? You should be ashamed. Very, very ashamed.
Ahem.
Now you hear this you greedy little blood sucking leaches. You've bled The Great Pumpkin dry. You couldn't just be happy with your notes and your pictures. Oh, NOOOoooooooooOOOOOOOOOOO. You want to take every second of The Great Pumpkin's time and exhaust every tiny little morsel of "extra" that's left of The Great Pumpkin, which isn't a lot. Did you know that The Great Pumpkin had two babies in less that two years? Cuz she did. And she's tired and has barely enough time in her day to pluck what was once two separate eye brows. Now you take your little tear stained thank you notes and shove 'em where the sun doesn't shine. Got it?
Ahem.
Regrettably, The Great Pumpkin was eating milk and cookies while watching Criminal Minds and wasn't aware of the awaiting thank you notes.
She say's she's sorry.
I stumbled upon a song as I watched over the slumbering author. She does this, you know. She's my writer, mostly songs, but other stuff too. I wasn't really doing much of anything. In fact I was down right bored since the husband was otherwise occupied with the dummy box television so I was looking for something to do.
Upon seeing that song, along with her colored pencils lying near by, an idea erupted and I decided to draw her a picture. The song was about Halloween so I thought it fitting to draw her a pumpkin and maybe a bat or something along those lines. Once the wheels start to turn I decided that this picture was going to be from The Great Pumpkin.
Pardon me parents for unthinkingly creating yet one more fictitious character to keep up with. As if the Tooth Fairy and Santa weren't busy enough, I had to go and add The Great friggen Pumpkin. Which, you know, would be fine if I didn't do daycare for other kids because instead of marveling at the wonder of The Great Pumpkin, they were pissed The Great Pumpkin didn't come and draw them a picture as well.
Stupid, stupid imagination. I will never use you again!!!
While waiting for the bus, the child that could write decided to leave a little note for The Great Pumpkin on my driveway in chalk.
"Oh Great Pumpkin, please, please, please will you come to road 99 Briggs Hill Road."
In response, "I don't get to dirt roads, sorry. Love, The Great Pumpkin."
But The Great Pumpkin forgot who she was writing her note to because this particular child does not take no for an answer. Fair is fair and The Great Pumpkin will answer to her for her negligence in not coming to HER house
A letter followed.
"Dear Great Pumpkin,
Dirt roads are not the only roads that get your car dirty. Paved roads also get your car dirty. And the only time your car gets really, really dirty is when it rains. Do you have a bat side-kick? Love, Child Who Will Not Take No For An Answer. P.S. Do girls draw better than boys? "
By this time The Great Pumpkin had already communicated to the Child Who Will Not Take No For An Answer's mother and informed her that The Great Pumpkin might want to draw her Child Who Will Not Take No For An Answer a picture. But this said child was going to leave her letter here to be sure The Great Pumpkin received it. So The Great Pumpkin told said child's mother that she was off the hook. The true Great Pumpkin would create fairness for other believers of The Great Pumpkin since her imagination got us into this mess in the first place.
And so The Great Pumpkin writes....
"Dear Child Who Will Not Take No For An Answer -
It is not the dirt that bothers me, it is the rocks that bruise my pretty pumpkin shell. Don't be sad, I am happy to draw you a picture and leave it here.......Love, The Great Pumpkin"
and so she did draw that picture and the Child Who Will Not Take No For An Answer was happy again. The Great Pumpkin learned her lesson and will never, under any circumstances, create another fictional character for her children. At least not as long as she is doing daycare.
The end.
Nothing better to do since I'm totally ignoring the chaos in the next room because I would need duct tape. I'm not even kidding.
So I'm taking her lead and posting my inner princess.....
You Are Pocahantas!
Free-spirited and wise. You have a strong passionate spirit that touches and changes all who know you. The wisdom and common sense that you have is really what guides you through life. Even so, you also have a very playful side that loves adventure and excitement.
to make fun of me and the insanity. Furthermore, I dare you to join me and show the internets your silliest moment you can muster. That is, if you have the hairy balls to do so.
Mine was inspired while glimpsing at myself in the mirror after 15 rewinds of the same episode of Barney. I was singing this little number repeatedly and didn't even realize it until I saw the reflection.
Why am I subjecting myself to such ridicule and shame? I don't have any farking idea. All I know is that I laughed myself to tears after watching this. I then thought to myself what a travesty it would be to keep this gem hiding in the closet.
Also I want reassurance from others that I have not lost my mind.
And if you want to know who does my hair just ask me. K?
My middle child has taking a definite liking to her baby sister finally. I'm happy to be present to witness the love bonds that are tying them together. And so begins the love/hate relationship that will forever be Emily and Abby.
She pronounces her name better than any other with a slight toddler twang that is so cute I never tire from hearing it. She is forever on bink patrol making sure A (or herself) is never without their precious. And she gives her the most adorable raspberries in the bathtub. Actually they sound like the worst case of nasty diarrhea farts I've ever heard and if I weren't watching her do it I'd be checking J's pants.
Did I just say diarrhea farts? Ew.
They are officially sharing a room for half the night and E refuses to go to bed without her. The babe has been waking to nurse at 2am. Since I'm both tired and lazy, I've decided that she can sleep by me after that and just nurse whenever she can find the source. Which is a lot because her fat rolls have fat rolls. And those fat rolls have fat rolls. What can I say...the kid likes to eat. And I think my breast milk is more like heavy cream instead of whole milk. J is now taking it in his coffee. The perv.
All kidding aside. This relationship that is forming is the sweetest thing I've ever seen. Of course S loves her sisters but toddler love is different that tween love. Tween love is more like tween tolerance, while toddler love is the deepest, most trusting love of all loves. Watching it develop makes my heart melt like buttah on freshly popped corn.
I feel so privileged to be such a close part of this exhibit. In fact, I'm more like right in the middle of it all. The axis they revolve around. It's pretty darn amazing.
then there's always the old stand-by of stealing the election.
Worked for Georgie....why not John?
I think I'm gonna puke.
that I might not have made my bed on this particular day (I really do make it most days, promise), I will share a video of Miss E with you. She's a Wiggles lover that one and dances to some of the songs........so without further ado.....
I give you Emily.....(and a brief cameo appearance from Sadie the psychotic doggie)
I like projects and fortunately for us the house we bought has had plenty over the past three years and still more to come! We're lucky that way. Always something to look forward to, something to plan, something to discuss. If there's one thing my sweetums and I like to do, it's discuss the future and all its possibilities.
Two weekends ago we decided it was finally time to rid the house of its last remaining wall paper. Hence Project Laundry Room. I have to admit that after the first weekend of scraping, followed by the week of scraping, washing off glue and patching up all the wall's boo boos we were ready for primer and paint. Not a large room but a lot of bending and reaching. I have to say that my post two babies body tires rather easily. The muscle strength I once boasted in the Army is not what it used to be. But I digress.
The painting went quickly. He primed, I cut it, I painted and he cut in. We bought a cabinet unit to hang above the washer and dryer and bought a larger desk to better accommodate our needs and voila. Project Laundry Room is complete.
It tired my ass out though. All that work in the mornings plus the babies wanting, needing, wanting, SCREAMING kept me on the move constantly. And then the afternoon arrives with its middle finger in my face along with four other kids to drive me insane brighten my day. The house goes from serene toddler and baby life to SIX EFFING KIDS. No further explanation needed.
At least my house doesn't have anymore wall paper. 
(And yes, the entire house had wall paper equally as ugly. And green carpets.)
A conversation threw me a while back when I was visiting Maine. It wasn't me starting this conversation to fuel the moral fire. I purposely choose to keep my personal beliefs to myself. It's not that it isn't understood; I am definitely a liberal thinker and am proud of it. Everyone close to me knows where I stand. I just don't want to fight with the people I love so I just shut up.
Which is why I was surprised when the comment was made that my nephews need to be more tolerant of gay people. I agree, but I also understand that most adolescent boys are going to shy away from any sort of acceptance on this issue out of fear more than any other reason. Fear that people might think they're gay, fear that maybe they really are gay even. So I said..."boys will be boys." It's a normal behavior. Would I try to teach my child differently? Of course.
Then the real kicker comes in. And why this question was posed I do not know, because we were all in agreement that they should learn tolerance.
"Do you think gay people should be allowed to adopt a child?"
There were three people sitting around that fire, two said no. The two people who sat there and agreed that tolerance is acceptable. BUT...they draw the line at tolerance.
I get frustrated with this response though it wasn't exactly a big shocker. One, because I find that double standard offensive and ridiculous (typical of their political affiliation though) but mostly because I know that homosexuals are loving, caring and nurturing individuals just like you and I are. (I hate adding a label to their preference as human beings but I don't know how to get around it. Otherwise I would.)
So I begin to explain why I feel differently by saying just that. What's wrong with two people who love each other raising a child? Which is better in your eyes? A heterosexual couple who neglect and abuse their child or a gay couple that can offer that very same child wonderful life? With all the unwanted children in the world you think we should limit the type of couple that gets to love them? I'm sure if given the choice, the child wouldn't mind if they had two mommies or two daddies to read stories at night,to show them how to fix a broken fence or make a delicious meal. But most importantly, have a family.
"Well they are going to impress upon them their sexual deviance and make even more gay people."
OMG, not more GAY PEOPLE!!!!
Did we not just use the word TOLERANCE???????
Do people really think this stuff? Really? Because that is just ignorance at its best. (If you're one of these people....I tolerate you, we all have rights to our own opinions, even if they're wrong different than my own.)
Think about it for a minute, if you will. You go through life with everyone telling you what's "normal". Only what you feel inside and who you really are doesn't fit inside this "All American Ideal". It sometimes will take this person years to admit to themselves what they're feeling to be their true self and even longer to admit to loved ones. Why then, would that person raise a child to believe they need to be one way and fit in their ideal or else. It just doesn't make sense. If any family would be loving and tolerant of their children and embrace who they are REGARDLESS, it would be a family with two parents of the same sex.
A good parent is a good parent is a good parent. No matter what way you spin it, the child is raised with people who love him/her. What makes gay parents love their children any less than we love our own? Nothing. In fact, I would bet that if you were to take a look at a few statistics their homes would fair better than a lot of your typical mom/dad families that we have accustomed ourselves to.
Conservatives have coined this particular phrase....but I think it fits well here and in many other situations as well.
I think they call it....."A Right to Life"
As long as they're not gay, right?
Sometimes you have to step back and look at the whole picture. You have to really look at the heart of the matter and slowly inspect each and every vein, artery and vessel connected to that heart. Upon looking at all those pathways and the journey as a whole you begin to think of your goals on a grander scale. Not just what I want for myself right now but what's best for the long haul for all parties involved.
I came to an abrupt conclusion yesterday while driving home from a short trip to my sister in-law's wedding that my train of thought has been narrow minded. And that weddings totally make me want to shag my husband rotten. Jjust sayin'. However, that wasn't necessarily the epiphany. I've long ago learned that weddings git me loins a stirrin' and often look to crash them whenever possible just to get wedding sex. And don't even try to say it doesn't get your engine going. A girl is a girl is a girl. And girls love weddings.
Anyway.
We were having our regular discussion about the up and coming move. I have always said J should apply for whatever jobs that look promising from Pennsylvania to Maine, but what I really meant was to apply for all those jobs but take the job in Maine. Mostly because I know that the right job there would be fine and I wanted to be close to home. I wouldn't ask for him to take any old job with a dead end; I want more for him than that. My request was to settle there if and only if a job with possibility presented itself regardless of other job offers that may arise. Of course there is always the unspoken exception of that one job anyone could ever possibly want, that paid a salary of ohmyfuckinggodineedtogoshopping.
We have discussed the pros of moving to Maine and know that we would be happy there. We have always accepted that salary would be less but the good outweighed the bad. But honestly, by how much? I love Maine. I love the people there and the simplicity of things and the bright stars yet to be covered by the blanket of tainted air but a voice I have shoved aside time and time again was shouting at me loud and clear yesterday.
"Why are you being so CLOSED MINDED???"
Oh because I want my cozy comforter back dammit!! And I want it back NOW!!
Then the big picture came to mind, or at least a clearer, broader picture that I had been ignoring or only taking small peaks of because I was afraid of what it had to offer. It didn't fit my ideal so I pushed it aside and deemed it not for me. But a voice was always whispering and discussions would take place. We would both quickly dismiss it and conclude that Maine was the obvious choice.
Yesterday, the picture had choices. It had a different places in mind. Places with jobs, jobs and more jobs for J to choose from, schools for me to peruse and perhaps a degree would come about. Great schools for my girls to get a quality education. Colleges close by that would potentially keep them near and dear for years to come (isn't that what we all really want in the end?)
And family.
Not the family I long to be near but family that I love and most importantly, family that loves us. Especially my girls. When I reluctantly take the blinders off and let the full picture come into focus I admit to myself that they love me and accept me in all my county glory. Perhaps long ago they secretly hoped for something different but I believe they have grown to love the girl J chose to share his life with. Me. The never overly flashy, not always so well spoken, sometimes even takes a pee in the woods me. And ALL of my flannel too.
So I'm opening a door a little bit wider and welcoming what life is going to offer us. Because deep down I know I don't have a choice, there are doors that will open and doors that will close. It's best I walk through the open doors and stop knocking on the closed ones. I cannot stop our future from happening but I can look at it with open eyes and enjoy what good things are about to come our way.
And if I do happen to end up where our other family resides....at least I'll have a friend there.
Toes.....toes.....those sweet, adorable little toes....I could kiss them all, one by one, one hundred million, gazillion times a day. No really, I could.
I made these toes. And now they are three months old and they have been growing like mad.
Do you see that little pinky toe on the right? That's her daddy's toe. All my girls have that toe. I think they might be mad at him someday for that toe. But I'm only guessing.
And what is more precious than tiny wittle baby feet? Nothing really.
Well maybe chubby little baby wearing sunglasses? Maybe. As you can see, I am feeding her well. She loves her mama's milk and eats A LOT of it. I can't believe time is going so fast. My head is above water, I am confident in my everyday activities and each day that goes by, the job gets easier and easier. We're making it work and watching time flash before our eyes.
It's crazy the pace at which time passes as you get older. The days/weeks/months/years feel like moments when we're looking back. I'm always amazed when Christmas rolls around each year at how quickly it came back around. We're approaching September in a few weeks and fall is nipping at our heels as we speak. E will turn two! TWO! I just can't wrap my head around the last two years slipping from my fingertips so quickly.
So I try and count those little baby toes over and over and over. I kiss and kiss and kiss until my lips are tired because soon they'll be stinky toddler toes and before I know it they will be big girl toes and then full sized grown up toes. I'm thinking they won't want me kissing them anymore at that point.
And wouldn't you if you just went and picked this out of your yard. FOR FREE!!! It doesn't get anymore organic than that guys. The only things that touch our produce are bugs, compost and water. It's a nice feeling to feed your family so well. 
There is lots more out there waiting for me. Tomatoes and beets mostly but if they are on the vine then they aren't collecting fruit flies in my house or going bad. SO.....until the weekend when I can make some home cooked sauce, outside they will stay.
How do you make due in ten days? How long is long enough to keep you for a year's time?
I was relieved to drive away this morning. Not a tear to be shed. A good night's sleep was at my fingertips and I couldn't wait for the ride to end.
Now I am here and all I have are moments to remember. Faces to etch into my memory. Or pictures to help me relive the sounds and smells and the feel of home.
Sisters reunite and reacquaint. Cousins fumble through forgotten bonds.
A mother is coming to her final days. Another has a new way of living.
Friends make the most of a few hours. New friendships grow ever so slightly.
New communities are emerging. New people with old traditions in a new place. The buggies are a welcome addition to the already down home scenery almost like they have always been there. Or should have been.
I left twelve years ago and have emerged a new woman. Still unsure but continuously growing into her confidence with a clear picture of who she is and where she is going but darn it all if part of her still wants to cleave to the safety net of her youth.
I am sad tonight. I want the familiar. I want friends close by and family to run to when the comfort level feels a bit narrow.
Maybe I don't need all this as much as I think I do but I know that I need it more than once a year.
I'll say it again.
It's an emergency that I am not closer to my place. It's not just any place. It's MY place. And I love it there.
I could continue to throw away $50+ dollars per month on diapers for Miss Naughty or I could roll up my sleeves and dive in. To potty training that is. Those who have done this before know that it can go either way. Some kids want to go on a toilet and stop shitting their pants and others. Well, not so much.
There really isn't a choice anymore. She's taking her diapers off left and right, stripping naked and running around flashing her ass like she is Britney friggen' Spears.
I'm taking the naked approach. I let her wear a dress but go commando so she doesn't have to mess with those pesky underwear when we're in a hurry to reach the john. Girls like this sort of thing anyway, they want to feel the wind in their vagina. Or so I've heard.
Today wasn't so awful. Then it suddenly took a turn for the worse. Or worst if you want my opinion. I was doing my motherly duty of preparing a nutritious meal for the family I love so dearly when Miss Naughty began to scream. Not so much out of the ordinary except that when I went to check on her there was a trail of crap from the dining room to the bathroom where I found her, standing over a puddle of urine in shock.
And then the unthinkable happened.
I didn't freak out. Me, the freaker outer of all freaker outers, didn't freak out. I freak out all day long over the stupidest shit and I didn't freak out over real shit. Not even a little bit.
I am not a religious person by nature but some God from some religion came to my rescue and instilled a peace unlike any I've seen. It's just not like me to maintain such composure when all hell breaks lose at dinner time.
But then I surprise myself sometimes because I know what my kids need every once in a while. Miss Naughty was mortified that she had done such a thing. She has never gone poop out of her diaper before so today was a new experience all together and to top it all off she stepped in a big old heaping pile of it. That couldn't have been pleasant. I was the gentle mama who lovingly wiped the shit off her feet, legs, and bum and then moved onto the rest of the house. And I didn't once get angry or disgusted by my daughter's accident. I could tell by the look of relief on her face that she needed that from me more than ever.
So today I am patting myself on the back. I think that takes incredible patience. Patience I don't always have, but today I did.
Go me.
The mysterious looking substance on her face is tooth paste. It's not the first time she has done this. Something tells me it isn't the last.
It is always applied in the same fashion.
A new trend maybe?
Me: It's amazing that I can make milk, isn't it?
Him: Yeah, it really is something.
Me: I am cool.
Him: Too bad you don't make iced tea. That shouldn't be so hard, not like milk. You could have something different in each one.
Me: I would be so pissed if I had to provide the beverages for the entire family.
My mind goes crazy at bed time and especially when am anticipating something. Next week I am going home for a visit and I'm really geared up for a taste of Maine. I miss it so much.
I miss the people there more.
It's so hard doing this sacrifice thing. I want to be closer to my friends and family so bad it makes my heart hurt. My dear friend hit the nail on the head in describing her need for home. It's an emergency that we are so far away. Once a Maniac always a Maniac I guess. It's true what the say, home is where the heart is. And while I am sure that my home is where my beloved and DD's are, a piece of me will always reside in Maine.
I'm scattered really. The county, Bangor, MDI, Gouldsboro. Each place represents a part of my life and I plan to revisit each one as long as the memory still breaths. I could say the same for other places I've lived but it wouldn't hold the same meaning. None hold that feeling of urgency for me that Maine does.
Something about crossing that thresh hold between New Hampshire and Maine. A relief blows over me along with the salty air and I am where I want to be. I take in every moment, every smell, every starry night and try to brand it into my memory because I know it will be a long winter before I see it, taste it, smell it again.
I may or may not get to move home in a year. I may end up living farther away. I hate the thought of it but what was the point of all this sacrifice if we don't take the opportunity where it presents itself. I may end up missing, cherishing and branding for the rest of my life.
If it happens that way I'll just have to live with the emergency. But at least I'll never have the misfortune of taking it all for granted.
One of my bigger problems and I know that I'm not alone, is beating myself up about the way I look. Meaning I still have a bunch of weight to lose from this pregnancy. Hell, who am I kidding, from the pregnancy before this pregnancy if I'm being completely honest.
After Emily I shed a fair amount of weight but the last 10-15 lbs lingered and lingered and lingered. Then I found out that I was pregnant with A and started the process all over again. I gained a little less weight with A but still ended up the with the same number at the end of it all. Funny thing is, with all three of my pregnancies I finished at about the same weight. It's the magic number for me to make strong healthy babies I guess. But each one, the overall gain was different. And the end of each one the over all initial loss was different as well.
Can you already see that I put way too much time into thinking about this?
I hate this part of the child bearing process. Loath it really. I don't like to obsess, I don't like to buy new clothes to get me through transition and I don't like that nursing makes it harder to shed the post baby bulge I have around my mid section.
But I will keep nursing because I love it. I love the closeness I feel with A and it really is the easiest way to feed my daughter. Very cost effective, saves tons of time, the health benefits we both get because of it but most of all the comfort and security it gives to her.
I don't blame the nursing entirely. I have a sweet tooth. Better yet, all my teeth like sweets. And my tongue, too for that matter. Tongue is a weird word, isn't it? Just noticed that. Say it a bunch of times and it will start to sound strange. Like helmet. Weird.
But I digress.
I want to quit eating cake, really I do, but it won't let me. Ice cream, too. It's not enough that they have each other. They want me to share in the glorious combination. I tell them three is a crowd but I lose every time. And not in the way I'm hoping either.
So I'm working out. A lot. Well I'm working out a medium. In hopes that I will become a medium. Walking/running/lifting/squatting...whatever I can do to enhance my physique and shed the fat. It's not the number that gets me as much as it is the rolls.
And then I say, hold on a second, I LOVE ROLLS!! With butter. And then the cycle continues.
Seriously though, I need to chill. How long has it been since I gave birth? For the second time in less than two years? I need to cut myself some slack along with that slice of cake and enjoy my excuse to have a little extra jiggle to my wiggle.
Besides, J say's he likes a little extra cushion if you know what I mean.
It is hard giving myself that break though. Unless of course it comes with a side of ice cream. That makes it a whole lot better.
This kid challenges me with every interaction, every single morsel of time we spend together. Her latest is taking her clothes off. And then her diaper. One would think, hmmm....is she telling me something? Does she want to potty train? The answer to that obvious question is a big fat NO!! She just wants to piss all over the house. She hasn't taken a poopy diaper off yet, THANK HEAVEN for small miracles but I know that it is going to happen sooner or later. Now we are keeping underwear on over her diaper because it keeps the diaper on when she's feeling particularly lazy.
She's a moody little nugget too. For instance, this morning I was nursing baby on the couch when she wailed from her bedroom to announce that she had woken up. I had O (young girl I babysit) go and grab her from her room since I have to gate her to keep her in there for bedtime and keep her from prowling at night. She came whining to the living room and threw her blanket at me and shoved her face in her hands to cry in protest that her mother was busy with the *gasp* other baby. The end of the world as she knows it. She often gets angry at me nursing A or holding her and will just walk up and slap her upside the head to let her know she's invading her territory. Such a tyrant that one.
She is cutting her eye teeth right now and that makes her a bit crankier than usual if that is even possible. It makes her night sleeping unbearable as well. I've been letting her cry this past week because her father has allowed a nasty habit of waking up for three or four hours at NIGHT get out of control. She's getting better but it's hard to let her cry. And I have to do double duty with A and E because she will refuse to get back in bed for her father and that kind of argument and test of wills just isn't something any of us wants to deal with at 2 am. So I do it. At least A only gets up once around 4 am and I just plop her in bed with me to nurse and sleep until we get up. It's frequent that she sleeps right through but right now she's hitting her three month growth spurt a little early and wants to nurse a bit more. I enjoy the cuddles to be honest and listening to her tiny breath as she sleeps. It's adorable. Oh and the little sighs? I love those.
Back to the bad kid. How funny is it when you get this little challenge and your heart grows bigger and bigger every day. You are frustrated but amused with their independence. I am so thankful to have her as my daughter. I am growing in big ways with this one. She teaches me of patience and how it will grow when life calls for it. She teaches me of endurance and just how much we can take and even when we feel like our well is dry there is always another drop to squeeze out. She teaches me to love when the limits are being pushed. And she teaches me that life is about curiosity and learning and getting all you can out of it.
And most importantly, how each and every single moment is a gift.
and it's quickly taken away.
It's been a few weeks since it happened but my sister lost her baby. It was a shock to find out she had a miracle coming her way, but the more time went by, the more she wanted to see what the future had in store for her family. Unfortunately it wasn't what she had hoped.
She is doing okay but of course she is sad. Something happens to you when you find out your family is growing. You start picturing your life with someone else in it and when that changes suddenly, I can only imagine the sadness that follows. Planned or not, she wanted this baby. We all did.
I hate it when gifts are taken away.
It really isn't. I feel crappy a lot. I have bad hours in most every single day here lately. It has loads to do with hormones and a little to do with draining children and a laid back hubby who needs to relax and not worry about getting his doctorate sometimes. Who can I really fault for those things? It is merely reality. I just need some kid glove treatment and there just isn't the time or resources available for that to happen.
But I do have to share with you a very special piece of joy that came into my life just over two months ago. TWO MONTHS AGO?! Can you believe my wee girl is two months old already? Oh people she is scrumptious. Cute beyond words with her chunky thighs and her tiny little belly button. The only one of my girls with an innie and I find it so adorable and sweet I could eat a scoop of ice cream right out of it.
She is heaven in a onsie. Really. So quiet and sleepy ALL DAY AND NIGHT!!! WOOT WOOT!! When she is awake she is always happy to see my face and gives me the sweetest smiles that are reserved only for the one who holds the key to her heart. ME! She is just starting to give up her 2 am feeding. Can I tell you how awesome that feels? She doesn't skip every night and her schedule does seem to be changing a bit as her bed time is finally starting to establish. That has her waking a bit more at night but she goes back to sleep easily and is really quick about her business. I'm at least getting 3 or 4 hour stretches twice a night. I haven't had that consistently for a long time.
Then there is E. My tantrum throwing, teeth cutting, mud slinging screecher with her hand always cocked and ready to bitch slap your ass should you need it. Or even if you don't. OH MY WORD she is difficult. Naughty, naughty, naughty. But then you look at her mischievous smile, curls dangling in her face while listening to her babbles and non-sense and you trip over yourself trying to get a hug and kiss from her. I am going to have to work hard at teaching this child manners and reminding her of boundaries.
My eldest princess is ever the light of joy that she's always been with a hint of pain in the ass. What kid doesn't push their parent's buttons every now and again? She's growing up so fast and becoming a little lady more and more every day. She had her first pedicure this summer at Mimi's house. She's going to be a girly girl that one. She will be starting 3rd grade in just about a month. It feels like last week I put her hair in braids for her first day of kindergarten.
J is looking for JOBS!! We have a year left here but it is never too soon to sniff around, fine tune the resume and get a picture in mind of where he wants to go. I am praying for Maine. I want to go home. Not home home but rather a different version of it. I want the comfort of being in Maine and the independence of a three hour drive to separate me from the riff raff. There's a lot of it where I grew up. And they are all related to me.
I'm feeling rather lost lately. I am getting a handle on the newborn/three kid juggle but I'm still lost. I get this way when it's time to go home. Or maybe I just am this way. I don't know really. I find it more noticeable when I am ready for the long haul up to Maine because I'm aware of how sensitive I am to the loneliness I am overwhelmed with at times here in NY. I almost dread seeing friends and family because I have to turn around and go home. The visit is never long enough nor is it short enough because let's face it, packing three kids, husband and dog isn't easy. It all falls on my shoulders and I get really tired and stressed by the end of it. Vacation is far more work than I want or need it to be.
Another thing that is really chaffing my ass lately is the in-laws inferring constantly that S has suddenly had to take the hard road at home. Poor S, she probably never gets time blah blah blah blah. Like giving her sisters, friends for life, has somehow damaged her childhood and made life unbearable. It bothers me that we are still having this conversation two years later. It bothers me that my MIL won't spend too much time building bonds with her other two grand-daughters because of what S might think or feel. So of course she feeds off this because the notion hasn't been guarded from her. She knows what they think and feel and plays them all like a quiet melody. They don't even know she's manipulating every single moment of their time, innocently mind you, but manipulating none the less. She's 8. She's a kid. Kids do that. And everyone gasps at her neediness and her reluctance to leave. Like she wasn't the same exact way before all this baby business even began. Give me a break.
Can I just talk about one more thing I have been yearning to address? Call me selfish if you must, but I am drowning. Drowning over in the sidelines by myself and there isn't a hand in sight to pull me out. At least one that I don't have to fight for. I mentioned the loneliness here earlier. Let me just say that it is downright crippling me right now. I am at the bottom of the list of things to take care of, not just my own list but everyone's list. I don't believe that I should be first or even that I mind being last, I just hate that all the gas has run out when my turn comes. I expect a certain amount of neglect with small kids at home and I give my man props all the time for his dedication to family and all that. I just feel that every morsel I get I have to beg the kids for and seize every opportunity to exploit alone time. I'd settle for anything as long as I didn't have to compete with tv or some other distraction.
I know a lot of my issues are exaggerated because I think I'm dealing with some post-partum issues and I know that in time I will feel a little more comfortable in my own skin and more like myself. I just haven't felt that way in a long, looooong time. Over two years. I often wonder how I'm going to make it through these times and I just tell myself one day. One day you will get there and only one day at a time. It's unimaginable what a date might actually feel like. Or going to the movies. Or chewing my food. Or sleeping. Or fitting into my old jeans.
Just so we're clear. I love my babies and my husband and my life. I will get through all this because of that love. But sometimes you lose yourself and it's hard to get it back because demands are many. I'm slowly feeling my way around and will manage to find a happy medium. Eventually I will be able to go for more than one or two days without feeling hopelessly helpless. I'll let you know when that happens.
When I found out I was pregnant with Baby A I was taken by surprise. Everyone was. I had just had a baby 9 months prior and while that isn't uncommon it wasn't something I thought would happen. There were chuckles shared and "don't worry" said more times than I can count. We all agreed it would be a positive thing and that in 2 or 3 years. YEARS. My life would resume some sort of normalcy.
My big sister, acting the smart ass that she is, asked several times throughout my pregnancy if I had gotten my period yet. Even right down to the last day or two before A's birth she would ask. She found my predicament rather amusing I guess. I told her what goes around comes around and to be careful. There was that one time she made fun of me for having a cold sore on my nose and soon after she had a breakout so bad her whole mouth was covered.
What goes around comes around.
And that it does. So......I'm going to call her like I always do and once or twice a month for the next, oh say, 9 months I'm going to ask her if by any chance she has gotten her period yet.
What goes around comes around.
But it wasn't easy. I'm still dealing with sleep issues and will for a while I imagine. At least in the infant department. It's so tempting to just transition her over to formula and take a huge responsibility off my shoulders. Bf'ing isn't all roses and rainbows all day. But then I would miss out on the special moments and also giving her the best of the best. So I continue because I know it will get easier and because I know six months will have passed and my contribution will start to be less and less as time goes on and all will be right with the world. It has already been nearly two months. What's a few more?
The company did exactly as I thought. They entered through the front door, parked their asses on the couch and just sort of annoyed me for 36 hours or so. The mess was as expected but I buffered that with a big shopping spree for me and Abby on Saturday. I needed new clothes to get through the frumpy stage that I'm in right now. I've lost 30ish lbs of my 35ish I gained during pregnancy but you know how that goes. It's all a little squishier than it was before. I was very kind to myself and it felt good to do that since it happens so rarely.
I didn't kill anyone or even swear at them with a crazed look upon my face. It wasn't easy either. They both sat down at my table Friday night with an empty setting in front of them and I just sort of looked at them both like they had lost their fucking minds. They got the hint to get up and fix their own dinner plates rather quickly.
Bish, plz. I have better things to do.
Seriously.
The woman of their house complains continuously about the lack of appreciation at her house and all I can say to that is.....YOU CREATED YOUR OWN MONSTERS. Woman has three boys and a husband. She isn't doing the world any favors catering to their lazy asses either. I feel for their future slaves wives.
I know I'll survive this phase. I remember it well with Emily. You muddle through, drag your feet, swear at your husband and eat more sweets than little debbie. It's just so hard when you're knee deep. So I vent here because it's better than saying it out loud. Go figure, announcing to the world on the internets is easier than calling my sister and bitching for an hour. All I can say is that once in a while a good world wide declaration is just what a postpartum mum needs to make her feel better.
I am in a nightmarish sleep deprivation phase with both my little girls right now. E is cutting her last couple of teeth and has stayed true to form and woken up at 3 am for the past few days. A is hitting her gassy phase and I've been busy soothing and calming her for hours on end in the evenings and through the night. I have maybe slept 15 or so hours all week long.
Last night I had a dream that E somehow managed to hop on a 10 speed (I know, I'm fucking crazy) and was gliding down a hill fast as hell and about to crash into whatever was at the bottom. I ran so fast to get her but couldn't reach her no matter how hard I tried. Finally someone coming in the opposite direction grabbed her after I pleaded for his help and stopped her just in time. Meanwhile I'm hearing A's cries and I can't remember where I put her. I'm searching and searching and searching to no avail. There are women around me running through the house trying to help me find her. All of them were looking at me disapprovingly for losing my baby. When I do find her she is under a blanket in her crib and her nose has turned black. I remember feeling like she was just that close to death, hence the black nose.
When J arrives it's as if it were any other normal day and I'm retelling the peril that hit our house, yet again, today. His distance is astounding, blank and empty. There is nothing there. No empathy, no concern. Just a blank stare with little conversation. I'm standing next to him in the kitchen hoping that her nose turns pink by morning.
I can only take this dream one way. I feel completely out of control right now and disconnected from J. I know it is temporary and normal for women to feel helpless in the post baby stages, especially when you are going on little to no sleep. It just shook me a bit and was hard to come back from. Probably because I was in bed and midnight and up at 3, 4, and 5 am. After that I dozed on the couch off and on until the day demanded my attention.
J's father and teenage brother are coming for a visit to see the kids and supposedly help out. I anticipate a huge mess, me doing all the work and a major freak out by Sunday. If I don't hit the booze tonight it will be amazing. I'm am not in a good place and he has no business coming here without his wife to help me manage their bull shit.
Can you tell I'm not happy about this?
Anyway, before I get myself into a deeper hole I'll shut up. Thinking about it makes me cry and I can only deal with one minute at a time. Projecting only makes it worse. But I effing swear, if they don't pile that big load of wood on my front lawn I will not let them hold the baby. No fucking way.
It's quite a milestone we've reached here at Hagarman House. I'm proud to say, whilst knocking on wood, that E is sleeping through the night. This past month has been glorious. She has slept so well and I do believe that we have finally gotten over the hurdle.
To say that it has been a difficult 19 months is an understatement when it comes to her sleeping habits. The kid just wouldn't sleep regularly. We would have a few good nights followed by 10 bad and sometimes very, very, very bad. We would trade off and take shifts and slowly roll out of bed to a dreaded two or three hour hiatus at 1 am. There wasn't much choice, it was get up or listen to three hours of crying. Not joking.
So we are happy and still very gingerly knocking on some wood because we're afraid to claim victory in case defeat rears its ugly face at us in protest. Now all we have to do is get Baby A to sleep and we're in business.
We'll see about that one.
To my wonderful guy.
The one who was made to raise daughters.
The one who puts all his girls before himself.
He's just that sweet, he's just that tender, he's just that selfless.
He's just the greatest father I know. 
Three little souls in desperate need of care, guidance, teaching, loving and nurturing. I only have two arms. It wasn't easy before, now I can't even imagine a week or a month from now because everything is moment to moment. A plan is pointless for now and I am finding myself dreaming of 3 years from now because I feel like the next few I'm committed.
The living moment to moment isn't necessarily a horrible thing. I do believe it's something I've needed to work on and still do since I am doing so much of the dreaming. Forget tomorrow, we're dealing with today. Tomorrow, after all, is always tomorrow and I need to focus and make the most of what I have right now. Regret is such a wasteful emotion. Why let it make an appearance in the first place. Coulda, shoulda, woulda sort of thing.
I tell myself all the time that their childhood is such a small part of their lives. Their babyhood even smaller. So enjoy the neediness, constant noise and the invading of every part of my existence. They belong to me. I made them. I need to enjoy them before they don't need me quite so much. Of course by then, it will be me needing them.
Baby loves to sleep. 
And she has tiny little feet. 
And have I mentioned that she sleeps a lot? 
Because she does. She sleeps practically all day and all night with the exception of a few wakey wake times and a few feeding times and a diaper change here and there. It's apparent that the mere thought of crying tires the poor baby out. So she just sleeps like this instead.
One thing I have noticed is my love for my other baby. Because E is still very much a baby to me. I can't seem to get enough of her toothy grin and her devilish smirks as she peels the skin off all my onions and throws her toys in the garbage. Maybe it is because I feel better every day and not being pregnant is such a blessing. I can fit her on my lap again and snuggle her on the couch and watch Elmo 500 times if that is her heart's desire....I just love this baby so much, and even though Miss Abby is my darling little newborn, Miss Emily has stolen my heart and I don't want to miss out on a single moment of her toddler days. This is the cream of their babyhood, the part where they entertain you for hours and hours by simple things like giggling, spinning in circles and falling down, kicking a ball....all the things that they are capable of and are more than happy to prove. So.....I am relieved that Baby sleeps and sleeps and sleeps because I'm getting to spend some quality days with my other baby, who still needs her mama very much and her mama needs her, too! 
I had this baby...
She's cuddly and cute, squishy and oh so sweet. She weighed 9 lbs at birth and was 20.5 inches long. Her name is Abigail Elizabeth and we love her very much.
Anyone who's ever had a baby knows what I mean when I say "nesting". And as I start the last day of my pregnancy with my last child (God willing) I feel like I need to do it ALL. Lots of preparations have been made. All my little socks are folded and all the tiny pajamas are ready to be puked on.....again. But the house feels unready. It isn't even 9:00 am yet and I've gotten S ready for school, stripped bedding and started washing, cleaned breakfast dishes, started the dishwasher, switched E's dresser to a hand me down that S was using (she got a brand new one) and will shortly put baby clothes in E's old one. There are other things I've puttered with I'm sure and have many more chores ahead of me today.
Wanna know a secret? I have no business doing all this because I feel like crap. I have a headache and I'm nauseous. My belly is killing my back and I should pack my bag and get ready for tomorrow and leave the housework for the people who are going to be destroying all my efforts over the weekend anyway. I still have to babysit this afternoon which on a good day wears me out. So yeah, I should be sitting with my feet up watching Barney with E but my nesting urges won't let me. I can't help it that I can sit down. My mind just won't let me.
I will sit down tonight. I will definitely sit down tomorrow and the rest of the weekend I'll be moving pretty darn slow. At least I'll be able to nap knowing that my house is clean for a bit and maybe it will still be half way clean when I get home. J is staying home next week and I will just delegate, delegate, delegate. It's all I should do since I have one week to recover before I'm knee deep in newborn/toddler hell.
Can you say Calgon?
P.S. Concerning those last belly pics to ensure my giant self is in fact, giant, will be posted...maybe tonight, maybe with A's announcement. But I'll show you.....just prepare yourself for amazement. Who knew someone as short as me could hammer out such HUGE babies. The jury is still out on A's size but I can tell you she ain't little. That is for damn sure.
That's what I thought 1 year ago when my wee toddler was a wee baby about the idea of having more children. Two was it for me and I was not prepared or willing to go through another pregnancy. I had shut the mind ovaries down.
Now if only my real ovaries had listened to the mind ones and my husband didn't need so much hot sex. But not really because now that I'm here. Now that I'm about the give birth to my third child I wouldn't take back the outcome for a million. Or even mega millions. Once they're part of you they're part of you and I feel connected to her in a very real and tangible way. I love her more than anything sans my other two babies and I've yet to lay my baby blues upon her own and touch her silky soft skin. Not too mention who wants to give up all that hot sex?
It's Tuesday. DID YOU HEAR ME? I said IT'S TUESDAY. And she's coming ON FRIDAY!!!! I am overjoyed at the thought of meeting Baby A and I'm scared to death at adding another child to my already busy day. But she's worth it and E will adjust or run away and S will fall in love, even more so with this baby girl but not more than if that makes any sense. She's just that much older now. You know, that touch of time that brings them from child to girl. She's my girl now. My loving, nurturing, protective young lady who will be more help that I could have thought possible. Which is great because for a little while I'm going to need her. Like put her on some sort of pay roll kind of need her.
Well I know this is a rather abrupt cut off and I really would like to stay and chat with ya'll but I have some sleeping to do. E was up for three hours last night and guess who joined her? Yeah....I'm so ready for this baby because basically I haven't slept much in two years anyway. Might as well make it another two. Then I'm sleeping for a decade. And J will just have to deal.
FRIDAY!!!!
Only two weeks and a couple of days to go until I will no longer be pregnant. Not just not pregnant but never pregnant again.
It seems so close but I gotta be honest, as easy as this pregnancy has seemed to me...it's still pregnant and I still look like a gigantic sumo wrestler and am peeing every 15 minutes. I am tired of my inflated state and I'm ready to meet my new baby. My butt is large and my cankles are getting tired. Someone please put me to bed and wake me on the 16th. K?
In 24 days I will deliver via c-section baby girl #3. Make that 23.5 days.
That is less that four weeks away.
It has been confirmed that said baby will be a Taurus, which I am very happy about considering the little spit fire I was last blessed with. Phew, mucho reliefo.
We have also nearly completed all those dreaded renovations I was anticipating and will have a couple weeks left to get our room baby ready. I have a little shopping, a little washing, a little freaking out and a little eating left to do and I'll be a mother of THREE!!!
I'm pretty excited for this to be over. The weeks always seem to slowly creep by but the end result gets here so fast you hardly had time to get used to the idea of another kid. Especially after you've already had one or two. I've been so wrapped up in E's tiny little world that I've hardly had time to mentally prepare for Baby A's grand entrance. Of course I've fantasized and thought longingly about meeting her for the first time and feeling that surge of love burst through every part of me, but to truly grasp the reality of life that is about to change my own as I know it can only come with a severed umbilical cord.
I can hardly wait to meet you, little girl. I'm sure you'll take my breath away just like your two older sisters. I hope I have enough of me to go around but I'm not going to worry. You will feel more love than you could imagine and all will be right with the world when you get here.
See you in 24...excuse me, 23.5 days. WOOT!!!!
