UGH!

Today was just one of those days. You know, the kind of day that makes you want to go back to bed all day long. I am draggin' ass BIG TIME. Could be the spring cold that has cycled back to me for the second time. Could be that I am feelin' a bit of post partum frump. Could be that I'm living in a place that is a.) waaaaay to far away from the people I hold close to my heart, and b.) this place is waaaay to far away from where I want to be living. Either one is reason enough to count the days until we leave this place.

Sure, this is just a cobble stone in our meandering path of life, but honestly, could this stone be any bigger? Sheesh. Enough already. I truly hope the husband appreciates the fact that I gave up my job and cozy life within safe driving distances from family and life long friends to support his career and his goals in life. I am all for supporting his aspirations but the sacrifice, to me, has been daunting at times. And even though I share the same dream, I can't help but be a little resentful while he's working towards a great accomplishment and I am at home changing shitty diapers and getting puked on. Someone please tell me, just where's the glory in that?

I know in the end, I am the lucky one. A career will last, and last, and last, and last until you're ready for it to be over, and then some. But your children? Well, they have a funny way of growing up and leaving you to fend for yourself. Every minute that passes is one less minute we have them in the safe clutches of our home. When you count the days you spend raising your children it's a very small amount of time compared to your life as a whole. I know how fast my childhood passed me by, I can only imagine that of your children, when time has a funny way of rushing along just a wee bit faster than the days of my youth.

I took a left turn somewhere in this post and am not quite sure how I got here, but either way, the babbling and run on sentences help me shrug it off another day. Thanks blogspot, for giving me my place to vent, my piece of the web space pie to call all my own. That way, when I'm having one of those days, I can come on here and get lost in it all and somehow find my way to the other side.

Ugly.

Unimaginable. Putrid. Horrific. Frightening.

Sad.

When does rage become so unbearably strong, hatred so dark, loneliness so deep and hallow that you could calculatingly take the lives of other innocent people?

I will never understand one's ability to take human life. I will never be able to grasp the desperation one must feel in order to justify that kind of action.

I can not put into words the needless pain fellow students/faculty must feel since Monday's
Massacre. I just cannot wrap my head around the aching sadness the victim's families are experiencing during this time. I am left speechless, incapable of justly describing the heartache invoked by this inconceivable tragedy. But I couldn't just say nothing.

My heart bleeds for everyone affected by this heinous crime, including the disturbed young man who committed these horrific acts. The disbelief his parents must feel, the guilt they must shoulder knowing it was their son who stole precious life from so many undeserving people.

I pray for you all. I pray that peace comes into your life, that you are able to rise above the ugliness that was Monday, April 16, 2007. That with time, your heart will allow healing. That your memories live on forever. That love and compassion prevail. May God be with each and every one of you during this dark and trying hour.

Spring?

A myth no longer....


reassurance came, informing me nature was taking it's first breathe of the season...


...afternoon walks were possible. Smiles were taking form on my otherwise glum face and the children were once again able to play outside without mittens and snow pants.
















Then one gloomy morning...


are you kidding me?


nope, not kidding.


Wwaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhh!! Please make it go away....


Monday morning, the supposed return of school after April vacation...


kids are home, the power is out. There's talk it will return at 4 pm. Thanks, hon, for calling the electric company and giving me such positive news, 4 pm you say? How great. Thanks, I needed to hear that as much as I needed to get a pimple on my ass. Thanks for thinking of me. Have fun at work. Enjoy your hot coffee and warm muffins. Oh, don't worry, we're all fine here. Our snow suits haven't been packed away yet and the baby likes frozen turkey noodle. Loves it even.

Mid morning crazies have set in. Arrests have been made...


the baby has joined a new gang...


she's quite ambitious, by noon she was head honcho...


But we're all handling it well and dreaming of better days...

And I'm pretty sure The Cat in the Hat made bail.

Nothing inspiring going on here...

Just one sick baby and one sick mama trying to low crawl her way through the endless nights and arduous days without losing her sleep deprived mind. I want to cry but I don't have it in me. I'm not kidding. There just aren't any tears to shed because my body is otherwise occupied making other bodily fluids that keep the wee one alive. I'm tapped out.

I'm not going to sleep this year, am I? Just tell me the truth already. I did this once before and don't remember it being this difficult. Why do we suffer memory loss from that first year? Oh, right, to continue the species. I would not be doing this otherwise had I remembered. Or maybe I would have but I would have slept more that year before my pregnancy. And felt less guilty about getting drunk.

I feel so bad for the babe. She's miserable. I can only imagine what it's like for little people. She only has to see me from across the room to feel separation anxiety. Being held by daddy is doing nothing for her. She spots me and it's over. I thought she was going to hyperventilate at 4:30 this morning when I briefly passed her over to him before I literally melted. She just can't handle the two feet between us.

I wish I had more motherliness in me when my baby is sick. On one hand I'm 100% there and on the other...well, not so much. I'm just tired. Did I mention how tired I am? How I haven't slept a straight 5 hour stretch in a very long time? My child is nearing the 6th month mark. Shouldn't I be getting more sleep now?

Okay, I won't bore you any longer with the public pity party I'm having for myself. Babies are cute and mine is one of the cutest in the world......so I'll shut up now.

We should write a book.

On parenting. That is what S's teacher said at her conference with my husband this morning. I'm so proud of her. Knowing your child is smart, helpful, organized, attentive and a role model for other students to emulate is like winning the lottery. I can't even begin to put into words how happy I am with her.

I know we got lucky in many ways. My daughter is who she is just because, but as her parents we do get to take a little credit. I love who she is blossoming into. Her ability to empathize and show kindness to others, but most of all her genuine humility and giant heart bring me to my knees with respect and admiration.

I've said more than once that I see myself in this child. Sure, there's no mistaking she belongs to me, anyone can take one sideways glance at her and pick me out of a large crowd as her mother. It's her likeness inside that has surprised me. How closely she resembles a younger version of myself that renders me speechless daily. And I don't mean that I am/was all those things I just described, I just mean that our personalities are nearly one in the same. I'm wierd, she's wierd, I'm shy, she's shy sort of thing.

I smile inside and am grateful that with her I can make a difference. She is nurtured and deeply loved. Her father hangs on her every word and her mother is always available. She is encouraged and stimulated as an individual. We have gently prodded the insecurity in her and turned it into quiet confidence. She believes in herself and her abilities but isn't too flashy about it.

For instance.

She hugged a boy in school one day, a boy that has behavioral issues. Why? Because he got a gold star two days in a row and she was so proud of him. She told me because she almost kissed him on the cheek by accident and wanted to make sure I knew that she didn't kiss him, only hugged.

She encouraged and praised another kid for a reward that she didn't need or want to receive. For a seven year old kid in this day and age, I think that is amazing.

I won't lie, she has her days. She's not always a shining example. Trust me. But I love, love, love who she is when I'm not looking.

Am I a good mother? Sure, I think so. But she's a good kid, this I know for sure.

Yesterday

I almost set my house on fire.

I was cuddling with my baby, nursing her to her hearts content because I felt guilty for letting her cry while I showered, when all of the sudden the fire alarm is signaling in the kitchen area.

My heart started to race, I was wearing only a towel and I had my baby in my arms. I had to run in there and see if there really was a fire. I wasn't cooking anything (LOL, long story) so I knew something was up. Smoke filled the dining room and living room. Oh God, what am I going to find around the next corner in the kitchen? Smoke was rolling out of a pan on the stove but no fire. Phew, thank goodness I hadn't set anything on fire. But damn, I boiled 4 pacifiers to the point of no return. They were now one big blob of melted plastic in the bottom of my favorite tiny pot. Okay, my only tiny pot.

The baby is coughing, I can barely breathe; what a disaster. Okay, find a safe place for her to be while you air out this house. Luckily her room was clean and fresh air was plenty. I opened her window to be safe and put her in her crib while I ran around the house opening doors and turning on fans with a towel over my face because the smoke was really unbearable. The kitchen still stinks like burned plastic.

Like an hour later I was all, oh yeah, we have a fire extinguisher. Embarrassingly, that was the last thought in my head as I was heading for the kitchen to investigate. My sweet loving husband so kindly reminded me...."yeah, you're not exactly the pillar of strength when it comes to emergencies."

Eat Shit.

I did the best I could and hopefully I'll never have scare like that again. Oddly enough, the last week or so, I've been thinking about fires and the possibility of us having one more often than normal.

That was freaky and I'm thankful that it was only a pan full of binks and that our home is still in tact.

On the lighter side of things, my eldest daughter is officially a redneck woman, much like Gretchen Wilson only instead of keeping her Christmas lights on, on her front porch...my little redneck woman keeps her Christmas socks on and don't even ask her to take them off.

A little sick.

Home sick. It's such a bittersweet experience whenever I go back to where my baby roots were laid. Easton. Whoa, how far am I away from that place? Not just in the physical sense, but also emotionally. Maturity has taken on a new meaning since leaving the nest. Could I have ever even really grown up there? I don't think I was capable of escaping the preconceived ideas of who and what I would have become had I stayed in that god forsaken town. That town, county, place would have swallowed me up like a tornado devours a trailer park in Kansas. I can't even fathom where I would have lived, who I would have shared my life with; going there is unimaginable. A whole other place in time, my life, my person, my heart is so completely different than that tough party girl that didn't need anyone to get her through the night. Ever.

So why do I yearn for the smell of fresh potato dirt? Why do I reminisce about the Fry Pan? Why do I even want to relive those moments of despair and uncertainty? I honestly have no idea. It's not so much I want to relive the life I had there as much as it is the wanting to relive a different experience. Does that make sense? And though I must stress I have little regrets, life is just too short for that, I do wish for a day. Just one day in which I could be the person I am now. Just one day where I wasn't the confused, hurt, angry, tough, mean, intolerable person that was on the brink of crumbling at any given moment.

I would be nice to everyone. I would be compassionate to the struggles of others, especially the people who had gone through the same things that I was wrestling with to forget. I wouldn't get stoned (as much, lol). I would laugh out loud and not think even once about Bobby Dionne or the Fry Pan road. I would walk with confidence and hang out with all of the people that would have been supportive had I not pushed them all out of my life by being a tyrannical monster. I wouldn't try to compete. period. I would be home on time for dinner and play Yahtzee with my mum.

These are the things I think about when I'm sick like this. I say bittersweet because I couldn't ever fit into that mold I once wore, yet I miss the time I had there. I miss the innocence of growing up because I had no idea at the time how precious it was and tried so hard to be worldly and knowledgeable that I missed it. And now I have to live with the memory, or lack there of, that it has become. And sometimes there is.....just a little regret.

Update!

Still loving the Dyson. I am so impressed with the excellent performance of this product. I am seriously thinking I ripped Mr. Dyson off....I can't even deal with how happy I feel since our introduction.



We have a wood stove inserted into our fire place to supplement due to the rising cost of heating fuel. It not only gives us more bang for our buck but saves us a bundle to boot. The only problem is the dust and crud that comes along with them and I felt our home was beginning to smell all together too woodsy for my taste. Now that I have a Dyson my problems are solved. I vacuum every single morning and am amazed the the amount of dust and animal hair that comes off my living room oriental. Just from one day.

My husband thinks I'm losing my mind and has offered to leave me and the Dyson alone on occasion in case I needed to...um...have some private time. He doesn't do the majority of the cleaning around here so of course he doesn't understand the bombdigityness of my new savior. I have done half the normal dusting this week because of my Dyson, half the sweeping of floors because it works better on them anyway. I'm motivated every single morning to do my housework simply because the first thing I do is vacuum and pick up the living room, from there it just explodes into cleaning the whole house and I'm not even mad about it. Mostly because it takes me half the time to do the same job. That extra time affords me to cuddle the cutest little baby girl around these here parts all the more.

So...I couldn't go one more day without saying, once again, how Dyson has changed my life. I will never love another vacuum again.

Can I get them to go, please?

Sure, would you like some fries with that?

Yeah, the baby thinks that my boobs are detachable. I'm trying to explain to her that she can't take them with her wherever she goes, yet she doesn't quite understand. She is almost 5 months old now, she should be getting these things, don't you think?

What happens is she's distracted. She has a big love affair going on with the world around her and not even her precious can keep her occupied for long. And she loves those milky mama goody goody yummies. She'll be nursing so contently and suddenly the dog barks, or the phone rings and whip goes her head to investigate that familiar noise to find where it's coming from and along with her head....yep, you guessed it... yank goes the teet. All I have to say is thank sweet baby Jesus she doesn't have any teeth yet.

She's also recently started experimenting with her vocal range. I laugh so hard listening to her make all her different sounds. She's loud (for those who know me, surprising, I know) and can be quite demanding at times. But darn it all is she ever cute. I can get so frustrated after a long sleepless night and swear I'll not be swayed by that cute dimpalicious smile of hers but she wins every single time. Can you blame me?

What the?

I'm getting more and more confused by the week. My fav show Lost is driving me nuts. There are still so many unanswered questions and yet the writers are digging even deeper into the depths of the unknown. WTF?

Seriously, what the hell is the black smoke that killed Eko and what is the reason for his brother losing his life on the same island? Ferocious polar bears? All of these hatches that supposedly have something to do with the Dharma Iniative and now the others have taken control of them. Or whatever? And whats his name, Denny? He keeps living the same life over and over again and is trying to keep the poor bastard Charlie from kicking the bucket. Claire is Jack's sister, Locke's father is all the sudden on the island and came from some box that has secret wishing powers. There's just too many screwed up things to list them all. So many questions and NO $#%$ing answers.

Lost? You're damn right I'm lost. Yeah, I'll still watch the freakin' show. But I ain't happy about it.

There is no greater love.

I get it. I understand her affection for her vacuum. I was lucky enough to have a Rainbow that my mom passed down to me. I liked it, but there were drawbacks. The water basin needing to be filled every.single.time you vacuumed. The water basin needing to be emptied, outside, ever.single.time you vacuumed. There were parts here and parts there, it seemed to have more residing spaces in our home than we did. The cord needed outlet changing when I got to my bedroom, which is a total pain when you're in the throes of dust busting. However, this machine was no wuss, it was designed to do some serious dirt/hair/dust removal and that it did. So imagine my dismay when, luckily unfortunately, our Rainbow passed away this morning. And though I am saddened at the departure of my beloved vacuum, I am also excited that I have the opportunity to purchase a new one.

Normally, I would not be so quick to spend such an amount on a vacuum, BUT, I just recently celebrated a birthday and happened to receive a bit of cash from my husband's grandmother. I love this woman dearly, not just for the generous gift, but also because she's my wine drinking buddy at family functions. She is sweet and kind and never judgemental. I do not have to be successful in the business world or otherwise to gain her approval, in fact, her old school beliefs put my profession at the top of her list of most successful. She was at home taking care of her children in her day and she takes great pleasure in my profession being the same. She would never outright say so, but she doesn't need to. There's a sense of camaraderie between SAHM, young and old alike.

I will admit a small amount of buyer's remorse with this purchase. Especially since I could purchase a couple of new windows or a new stove for my kitchen, but when I opened this sexy beast and experienced the capabilities of this puppy I was sold....hook, line and sinker. I want to apologize publicly to James Dyson for the initial doubt I had in purchasing his wonderful invention. This is no mere vacuum, this is the ultimate household appliance, fighting dirt and dander of all kinds, never to leave me disappointed at the mediocre cleanliness of my home again.

Because I'm always writing about

urinated lady on bedroom

someone was able to find my blog.

Awesome.

Oh, the life of a seven year old.

"One day, I hope I get $1000.00. I wanna own Chucky Cheeses."

and then there's

"Mimi is the best birthday present giver ever. I think Mimi might be a little rich."

The Scare.

Scare is putting it mildly. I've been experiencing nausea, reminiscent of early pregnancy. I've been avoiding it, hoping it would pass like an afternoon rain shower, forgotten by sunset. But it held on and reminded me constantly of how I felt this time exactly 1 year ago. I had just found out I was pregnant with Em and it instantly arrived, as if morning sickness was packaged with the positive pregnancy test.

I know that I have LAM on my side, but stranger things have happened. Until I actually have a period I have no idea I've actually ovulated. I've been bf'ing exclusively for 4 months and only recently introduced solids on a regular basis so my chances were slim...but the nausea...the headaches, were all too vaguely familiar to rule it out completely.

I had the hubby bring home a test tonight and am relieved to announce a negative result. Well worth the $15 it cost to find out, that I know for sure. I couldn't even contemplate another baby right now. I would seriously consider running far, far away and hiding for about three years. Phew. Phew. Phew. That scared the living shit right the hell out of me.

Spring is on the way.

On one hand winter came and went so fast, on the other it lingered like the stench of a burned bag of popcorn. Hard to believe 4 months have passed since we introduced the little on into our family. Change is happening so fast in this house I'm lucky to keep my head on straight. The babe, of course, is the focus of all this change. S contributes her fair share since she will soon be blossoming into a tween over the next couple of birthdays. OH MY!! As I watch Em sprout into a playful toddler, her older sister will be soaring into puberty. I can almost see the next 4 years flashing before my eyes right now. Ugh...then I'll be in the second half of my thirties. I hope the clock slows down a little bit. I could have lived nearly half my life by now ya know. Not that I know my fate or when I am slated to pass from this grand planet, but 31 x 2 = 62....you just never know. I wish I had known how precious and fleeting time really is while I was younger.

My Mom and Dee were visiting this past weekend. WOW. A year does a lot to a person her age. She'll celebrate 79 years on her next birthday. She reminds me of a tiny little bird now (funny since her name is Bertie Bird..hahaha,ok that was bad), her face is smaller, her body shrinking, her mind isn't so bad, but there wasn't a day here that she actually remembered where my bedroom was. I chuckled as she headed towards the garage to head off to bed each night, but truth be told it's sad what happens to people as they age. Some are able to keep their dignity well into their golden years, but eventually we all end up pissing ourselves and forgetting our children's names at one point.

Dee looks good, though. I'm really grateful she beat her cancer. She is so lucky to have her voice in tact. It's also because of her that I celebrate an entire year smoke free tomorrow. Not.One.Single.Puff. Oh I've contemplated the thought, dreamed of smoking on several occasions but have otherwise remained strong. For the first time in 15 years I made it an entire year.

I'm still bf'ing. Not entirely by choice mind you. I thought I would be able to wean sometime between 3 and 6 months but that isn't going to happen. And I'm okay with that. I've told myself to get ready for the long haul and that's what the plan is. I've had several failed attempts with formula but have started solids recently and have to brag about our great success. Actually, I didn't have a lot to do with it. Em is just ready for more. She hesitated with cereal a bit, but now that fruit is in the picture she is all about her yum yums. Now the wheels are set into motion and I'll let her be my guide. She's hungry and I'm tired of bf'ing 15 times a day. It's time for us to take the next step.

S's bday party is tomorrow. I have a 7 year old. That doesn't seem possible to me. My growth as a wife and mother happened simultaneously with her growth into a young girl. How things have changed since becoming pregnant with her. I always felt like she was my gift, my wake up call so to speak, telling me that my life is on the right course and if I didn't start following it I would lose it. And quick. I also felt like she was my chance to relive my little years in a different way. To give her the love and chance at real emotional growth that I never had. I felt that she was meant for me, another sensitive little Pisces girl to nurture and protect from all the bad in the world. She is the mini version of me right down to the cow lick on the right side of her bangs. I am who I am right now because of that little girl and she never ceases to teach me lessons on being a good person. She's my reason to smile every single day.

Yes, Spring is on the way. Daylight savings goes into effect this weekend...much earlier than normal. I'm not looking forward to the dark mornings but the light at the end of the day is always a blessing. Soon I will have daffodils, tulips, crocus and hyacinth sprouting through the cold earth reminding me that life evolves and chances at new beginnings are possible with every horizon. Happy Spring!

One question.

Why is it okay for us to listen to our children cry, fuss, complain all day every day but two hours on a Saturday is just too much to ask from the other contributor of dna to these little munchkins? I know the mitochondria is all me...but damn....mama needs a wee break sometimes and I don't want to feel guilty for it.

Men.

I am the dorkiest thirty year old ever.

OH, except for all the other thirty somethings (give or take a year or twenty) who were right there with me singing the blues. My guiltiest pleasure of all pleasures is karaoke. I need to do this in order to expose the song bird in me. I sing all day long, in the shower, in the car, to my babies, while playing my cheap fender acoustic, but that alone doesn't quench my thirst for applause and whistles. This is when I get to shine, so to speak. I know it's so dumb, that is why I'm so guilty about loving the hell out of it. But here's the deal, a girl needs to have something that is all her own to hold onto. I don't shop much, I don't have tons of girlfriends, I don't have a job outside of my home and I never go anywhere unless it's family related. What I do have is my beloved karaoke a couple times a year.

Why this past Friday? Well, let me just tell you, they have a super duper karaoke contest down this way. Where the locals like to call "the valley". It's held in a little rinky dink bar off the bowling alley. I entered it last year by recommendation and won 3rd place, one place shy of moving onto the REGIONALS in NYC! You have no idea the fame that is attached with the karaoke idol winners around these here parts. I was in the paper down in PENNSYLVANIA and everything. Seriously people, this is nothing short of heading to Nashville for some lucky contestants (not really, but whatever).

The contest is held in two parts. For thirteen weeks they pick singers from across the land to move on to the second portion of the show which involves about 40 singers, all competing for the title of Karaoke Idol. Except I think this year they're calling it the SUPER KARAOKE CONTEST III. For the big contest, which is held in April, they spare no streamer, not one piece of flashy confetti is left unused, the stage is set, and the seats are full of hopeful winners and gushing fans.

This has got to be one of the longest nights ever because everyone gets to sing their song of choice in round one, then they pick 15 or 20 people to sing another song so the winners can be decided, which takes FOREVER. Prizes are handed out to the top 5, nice little checks ranging from $250 to $75. The winners of 1st and 2nd place move onto the next round in NYC and the winners from there head to Vegas (trip for two) for the national competition and top prize of $5000. So it is obvious why I would want to enter this amazing contest and sing for the coveted title of Super Karaoke Contest Winner.

HAHA, this is so funny and silly because I could never really see myself entering such a contest before. I have to admit, though, that I have a blast. I have met a few nice people that I can be myself around and the look on people's faces when I belt out Janice Joplin's Bobby McGee is priceless. Plus I feel great when I do this. It's just the boost in self confidence I need to pick up my droopy, winter hating eyes and replace that sparkle that I once had back in the day.

So maybe I blew the dust off from my make up case and got a much needed hair cut. Maybe I wiggled when I walked just a little bit and smiled more than normal. Maybe I drank too much beer (according to my today's standards anyway) and sang a couple of kick ass songs Friday night. I needed that lift so badly. I sang the socks right off the adoring crowd. Hell, I think my milk even let down at one point. Which was funnier than hell, especially since I was the only one who knew this (thank GOD!). I could see the blissful looks on the judges faces as I did my la la la la's at the end of Janice's song. They love me so, I can just tell. I have to wait until next Friday to find out if I moved onto the second round, but there isn't much doubt, I'm just wondering if I won the weekly prize of $100 that is awarded to 1st place. I am trying not to toot my own horn, but dammit, every once in a while you need to. And I'm not even sorry, either.

I'm title-less today.

Is there such a thing as title less? Because if there is, that is where I'm at. I am lost in the trenches of motherhood and bodily fluids and see no end in sight. I've been puked, drooled, spit, urinated and crapped on this week and it's only Wednesday.

Honestly, there is no me right now. I want to enjoy this time in my baby's life and I try, try, try to live in the moment, but it's so fucking hard when I stink of 9 different kinds of baby goo. I try to find me in her, define myself as a mother and get my fulfillment as an individual from that, there just seems to be something lacking. I miss me, I want to find me and coax me out of that maternal ca coon and out into the real world again, if only just for an evening. Seriously, I am getting way too comfortable inside the walls I call my home. I am in serious need of adult interaction of some kind with someone other than the man I love (no offense honey).

I also need to get my hair did and lose 10 lbs.

I hate winter.

I'm almost 31 and haven't even come to terms with 30 yet.

Fuck.

Today has been a day that just needs a good flush.

I rarely have complete, intelligent thoughts anymore (that's assuming I actually did, at one time, have intelligent thoughts). And I'm not even stoned.

Fuck.

Valentine's Day sucks balls.

I'm going to be married for NINE years this month.

THIRTY-ONE SUCKS.

I want to have sex that doesn't make my vagina feel like it is going to fall off. Or maybe I do, but I want to enjoy it.

That's all.

I've nothing left to give right now. Even my fingers are too tired to participate.

"Pardon my French, but what the

HELL is this?" said the 10 week old baby when her father placed a bottle of formula into her mouth in the wee wee hours of Saturday morning. The plan was to let Mom get some sleep. The lack there of has been taking its toll on her brain function and this seemed like a practical solution. So with some gentle coaching from a trusted friend I went there. I was ready to try a little supplementing. E, on the other hand, was not.

It wasn't the bottle that threw her, it was what came out that sent her into a gurgling nightmare. Poor thing would take a suck, cry, take a suck, cry. I heard the milk in the back of her little throat bubbling as she fought that horrible taste from entering her body.

I'll admit, as desperate as I am to get a break, I was secretly hoping she would hate getting anything other than my milk. My heart filled up with pride as I climbed out of bed and ran to her rescue. I lifted my shirt and she clamped onto me as if she hadn't seen her warm and soft ba bas in days. She was in the land of milk and honey and there wasn't a soul who could pry her off.

So, failed attempt number one. Good news is she'll take a bottle, she just wont drink that stinky, nasty formula. I don't blame her. As I was making that bottle the guilt raised up in my chest as the horrible whiff of pretend milk wafted into my smeller. Yuck.

The bottle we will try again. I'm going to have to find time and energy to pump one night time feeding so's the mama can get a break. The dada just seems too darn rested and I'm thinking we need to even this out a little bit. :-)

Two months

have passed since giving birth to you little baby girl. I love you more than I ever thought possible. My love will continue to grow my sweet, and our bond will strengthen as time goes on. We've only just met yet I feel like I've always had you in my heart. I look into your big eyes and wonder if you feel the same about me.

I finally have a mini papa. I say mini papa because my first, S, looks exactly like me. I couldn't have copied a tiny version of myself any better than I have with the exception of her brilliant eyes. Those beauties are just a shade darker than mine; it's as if J and I poured our two colors together and made an original that was all her own. You on the other hand, my dear one, look very much like your daddy. I am excited to see what you're going to look like 4 months; 6 months; 2 years down the road. And I dare say you just might have those same pretty eyes your sister has.

My life has changed so much since I found out you were going to be part of our family. Pregnancy has never been my one of my brightest moments. Although I felt privileged to feel you so close to me before we had even met you, it was still difficult carrying the burden all to myself. I can't remember the last time I slept 8 hours undisturbed and I became a cranky old woman in no time. Since your birth, though, every hour of sleep lost; every pound gained; every uncomfortable back ache; every single twinge of annoyance has all been worth the trouble. You have filled a spot in our family that I didn't even know existed. You fit so well, my dear daughter; it's hard to imagine a time when you weren't here.

I decided early on that I would breastfeed you. I tried with your older sister and failed miserably. Neither of us could get into a rhythm and I had no idea exactly how persistent you needed to be in those first few weeks to establish a good relationship. With you, I was determined to do what was best. I can't say it was easy, but I can't say it was incredibly difficult either. You longed to nurse, it seemed. It felt so natural and we had few moments when it was so hard I wanted to quit. Every time it got a little rough I would tell myself to keep trying; just one more day. One more day would come and go and another would begin and we'd still be plugging away, you and I. Now the rewards of breastfeeding have begun. I get the sweetest smiles. You know, the smiles you keep all to yourself until it's just you and I sitting quietly alone while you're having a morning snack. I get to see your little legs grow chubby from my milk. I feel so confident in our relationship and I know beyond a shadow of a doubt that you know who your mama is and not just any old woman would do. You need me, you want me and you show me how much you love me all the time with your sparkling eyes and playful smile. I am rewarded with the special bond we share together because I gave you life and now I'm sustaining and caring for you in the most perfect of ways. I'm not giving that up anytime soon, that I am sure of.

You're growing my little one. Way too fast. I wish that I could somehow stop time and hold you close to me forever and keep the beautiful innocence that envelopes you. I often find myself embracing you tightly to my chest, drinking you in as deep as I can to solidify my memory of your infancy. I don't want to forget these moments we have together. I am all too familiar with just how fleeting they really are. It makes me sad to think how quickly it will pass.

You are my happy place dear child, you and your sister have brought me joy beyond compare. I hope you know, one day, how full you both have made me. To the brim, my sweet, to the brim.

In a fog.

The past week has come and gone so quickly that I find it hard to remember the order in which it all happened. Holidays, especially Christmas, tend to be one big blur regardless of what is going on. Add to that a new baby, add thrush and a double ear infection the week before and you've got yourself a confused mama complete with crying baby.

The thrush I think has been mild since the c-section to be completely honest. My body reacts to antibiotics the same way every time. I had so many other things going on throughout recovery that it took a few weeks to figure out that there were a few ailments sticking around. At one point I thought I had thrush and as soon as I made that conclusion the symptoms disappeared completely. Only to return at full force the minute I went a little crazy with the sugar cookies and gave it enough gas to show its ugly head once more. We've both been treated and hopefully will not have to deal with that again. Yuck!!

The ear infection came two days after I was at the Dr. for thrush. The very same day I started taking diflucan the baby started screaming in the middle of the night. Looking back, all signs led to ear infection, but I was so confused because I thought it may have been an adverse reaction to the new medication. The poor thing had an ear infection in BOTH ears and wasn't even two months old. I felt so horrible, like the worst mother in the world. They had to draw her blood from veins that are barely the size of the needle they are sticking into her little arms (and legs because it took three tries!!!). What a nightmare. Luckily, they finally got enough blood for a culture, otherwise I would have had to drive to the hospital lab to have it drawn there and start the horrific process all over, just to drive back there so they could give her a shot of antibiotic. After the blood came the shot anyway, but at least we didn't have to drive all over town adding stress to an already stressful situation. Needless to say the hubby and I fought that night because I was an irritable bitch and he didn't feel like helping me be nice. (Am I the only one who needs to be talked out of bitchiness?)

All of the craziness gave me a weight loss boost that I was wicked stoked about for about a whole day. I gave myself permission to act like I hadn't eaten in years over the holiday and immediately put all the weight plus a pound or two back on. A week of discipline should put me back where I was before the extra weight loss but it's hard to get back on track after a naughty binge.

Christmas was quiet, relaxing and enjoyable despite all the chaos prior. We all ate Christmas dinner in the clothes we woke up in. A little lazy, but what the hay. S was delighted with all her goodies and E was asleep the entire time we opened gifts. I threw the tree out the house yesterday evening and will be packing up the rest of the holiday decor next week. I love this time of year but am always happy to see it come to a close.

Now, all I want to know is, is it spring yet?

She is kinda cute.....

Today

I'm losing my mind.

Another growth spurt, three other kids to run after and voices shouting Mama, Aropa, Bapa, WAAAAAAAAH and woof woof (effing dog)!!!! ALL at the same time.

Are you sure it's not safe to douse yourself in alcohol while breastfeeding?

Right now there is one pre-toddler fighting a nap in my room because they finally took her bink away, two girls in S's room bickering over who gets to make the rules to whatever house game they are playing this hour and one sleeping baby on the couch.

Deep breath.

It's 3:00 pm and I am finally eating lunch. Light and fit yogurt with a handful of walnuts sprinkled in and a handful of carrots. Not the caloric intake I need but some days there just isn't time to make yourself a sandwich. Today is one of those days. I'll probably end the afternoon with an unhealthy binge because that is what happens when I get too hungry.

I'm sure in 7 minutes the babe will wake up and feed again. Hourly seems to be her gig today. Bless her little wailing heart. She is truly adorable yet stubborn in her own little way. She loves her some mama and will not settle for anything but the woman with the huge babas attached to her front. So cute.....but so frustrating. Mama loves her some baby too, though. I can't imagine what my life would be like without her now and the breastfeeding bonding thing we've got goin' on totally rocks even on the hardest days.

Funny question of the day.

"What will you be using for birth control?" the Dr. asks.

Silence.

Um.....abstinence?

I'm not so sure that's the answer the hubby wants to hear but a girl has to have some recuperation time after growing a live human being for heaven's sake. So maybe I told a little white lie....eventually I'm sure I'll give in to his begging. Just not so sure when.

Maybe by the approaching holiday. I'm going to need a bigger bow this year, though.

I love being the woman.

And the award goes to.....

my man for being the brightest husband EVER.



Thank-you very much for unloading an entire dishwasher full of DIRTY dishes. How thoughtful of you and economical, too. I wish I had only half the great ideas you have in one day.



I never thought I'd be saying this....but next time, I'll put the dishes away. K?

I stole this.....

from another blog but having just had a baby I couldn't help but wonder what her little thoughts are. How does she feel outside of Mother?

In the beginning, I was.
I was for a long time.

Then things began to happen.
Inside me, something was beating fast,and outside, something was beating slower.
For a long time, that was all I knew.

There was something soft and warm beside me.
Food came from it.
My angel was there.But I did not know that.

"Who are you?" I asked my angel.
"You will know," said my angel.
"Eat now."

Then I could hear, and see.
I saw dark, and sometimes less dark.
I heard the beating inside me, and the slow beating outside.I heard other things, but I did not know what they were.

"Where am I?" I asked my angel.
"Mother," said the angel.
Mother was dark and full of water.
There was room to swim.
There were bumps on my hands.
They grew larger and longer.I could move them.
I put one in my mouth.It felt good.I put it there often.

Sometimes it was dark, and sometimes it was less dark.
I liked the less dark better than the dark.
Sounds came from there.

Sometimes something came, pushing.
I touched it with my hand, but it always went away.
"What is it?" I asked my angel.
"That is the other world," said the angel."Someday you will go there."
"What is the other world like?" I asked my angel.
"It is not like this world," said the angel.
"When you go there, you will find out."

Food always came, and I ate it.
I slept with the angel close to me.
The angel was always there, in the dark and warm.

There were sounds I liked and some sounds I did not like as well.
I heard more and more.
I listened more and more.S
ometimes things moved,and sometimes things did not move.
When things did not move, I did.

There was one thing I did not understand.
Mother got smaller and smaller.
There was a time when I could swim,and touch Mother only if I wanted to.
But now Mother was everywhere.
It became harder and harder to move.

"What is happening?" I asked my angel.
"You are growing," said my angel.
But I did not know what 'growing' meant.

I slept and dreamt of swimming.
Then, when I was moving, I suddenly found a bit more room.
Room for my head.It felt odd, but I kept it there.
I did not know why.

"Something is going to happen," I said to my angel.
"That is right," said the angel.
"It is time for you to go soon. There is not enough room for you here."
"When I go to the other world, where will you be?" I asked my angel.
"I will be there," said the angel.
"I will always be with you.You may not see me or hear me.In the other world there are many things to see and hear,but I will always be with you."

I did not want to go to the other world.
But I knew I had to.
For now, I slept.
I waited with my angel
and I looked at the less dark.

"She wants you to come out," the angel said.
"Who?""Mother," said the angel.
"But I thought Mother was a place."
"She is more than a place," the angel said.
"You will find out soon."

It was dark, and then less dark.
I needed room for my head.
I decided to go.

Then everything moved.Things pushed me.
The waters began to leave.
I tried to hold on to them, but they left.
I was sad, but there was no room to swim anyway.
There was a long time, everything moving.
There were sounds - sad sounds, loud sounds.
I did not want to move, but I was moving.
Moving.
Moving.

Then there was light.And nothing else.
No Mother. No angel. Nothing.

Sounds came out of me.Oh! Loud sounds!
Nothing was anywhere!
And then something new was around me, warm and soft.I knew it was Mother, but different.
I was less cold.I saw someone.I was quiet.
It was Mother, but not all around me.

There were sounds that were new and not new.
Then I slept.I woke up.
I was cold.I was alone.
Where was my angel?Oh, where was my angel?

Sounds came out of me.Mother came.
She was all around me, just about.I felt warm.
Things were better.But I missed the waters.I missed my angel.
It was quiet. All was quiet.
I looked and saw my angel.
It was not warm. It was much less dark.But my angel was there.

"I will always be with you," said my angel.
"There are many things in this world to hear.
There are many things to see. You will not always hear me. You will not always see me, but I will always be here."
"How will I know you are here?" I asked.
"When you are quiet, you will know," said my angel.
"But I like to see you and hear you and feel you," I said.
"I don't like this world. It is too cold. It is too big."
"It is very big, but you will grow big. It will feel better and warmer when you are bigger.
But there is another, bigger world outside this one.
Someday I will take you there."

"When?" I asked my angel.
"When it is time," said my angel.
It has now been many days since I left the waters.
There is much to see, and much to learn.
I like many things.

Sometimes when I am in my bath, I remember the waters, and swimming.
And my angel is always there.

Growth spurt?!

It has to be. Either that or I'm the ultimate human pacifier.

I may have a little problem scheduling her, or should I say, a problem with HER schedule. There is no such thing as scheduling a breast fed baby just yet. Or if there is, no one is sharing the secret.

I'm tired. As I should be with a 4 week old baby. Sometimes, when I am alone inside of my head, I am wondering what the HELL I did to myself. A few hours later I look down at my peaceful, sleeping babe and it is all perfectly clear what my plans were when we kinda tried to get pregnant.

Lately she has been doing a nightly awake period from 9 to 12:30 with a constant need to nurse. She also does this from 2:30 - 6:00 pm. There is no point in putting her down when she falls asleep because a few minutes later she will wake up and frantically search for her soft place. That being me and my bare chest full of warm, yummy milky milk, which I have lots of, but after three hours of near constant nursing I barely have anything left to give and she gets frustrated at having to work so hard for few drops of good stuff. Hopefully my supply catches up with her hunger soon. Just when you think you've got it all figured out and your supply is actually doable and the engorgement phase has dwindled they throw a curve ball at you.

Any mother who has nursed their child has gone through all these frustrations, knowing this is what keeps me going, but I have to admit at midnight there may be thoughts of formula racing through my head. I don't do it because I've set a goal for myself and I don't want to give up (at least three months; a little is better than none). I don't want to mess with my milk supply by supplementing during these trying times and most importantly, and I want my daughter to get the very best.

I know bottle fed babies thrive and turn out to be beautiful, smart, healthy strong children. S was a bottle fed baby and is healthy and strong as any breast fed child. Even healthier than some. I always felt as though I missed out by not nursing her and hope for better with this little one.

Anyway, that is the struggle as of late. I'm tired and she's hungry. We're doing the best we can I guess and this too shall pass. Eventually things will be different and I'll long for the days when she needed me the most. :-(

Ten days in

and I'm feeling okay. I've made it through a couple of rough patches, to include this morning. I stood outside waiting for S's school bus and suddenly it hit me. I miss her. I miss the alone time we normally have. The last ten days have been so crammed together as if it were one long day and I've forgotten to breathe and enjoy the few moments I've stolen with her. I cried when I walked through the door and could cry if I tried to talk about it out loud even now.

The baby blues are here and I hope they leave soon. I'm so emotional and cry so easily and I know it's driving the hubby a little insane. Men just don't understand the roller coaster of emotions a woman feels after giving birth to her child. It's an amazing and wonderful experience, giving birth, but often causes us to lose our heads briefly throughout the day for a while. I try to explain the need for him to be sensitive to what I'm going through and how I need comfort when I'm dealing with the emotional upheaval but he doesn't know what to say. Not knowing what to say often ends in him saying something really stupid and only agitates the feelings even further into the black hole. It's getting better, though. I know it will pass once routine sets in and I can juggle this new life that's totally dependant on me. She is too cute to give back and although life will never be the same again, it's a different kind of different. A happy different, a good different.

My milk is overflowing, leaking from the spout as if I had an army to feed. Why are some women blessed with an abundance while others are skimped on supply? Last night I brought out a torture device otherwise known as a hand pump because the little bugger, despite all her efforts could not empty my bosom. I pumped off 9 oz. and by morning they were full. The kid can eat, for sure. She started screaming for food just as I started browning some ground beef for taco night. I broke down and thought I'd give her a taste of what I had pumped. She ate 5 oz. I couldn't believe the appetite on her. I remember S at the newborn stage. She, too, was a large baby and I was lucky to get her to down 3 oz at this age. I guess I don't have to worry much about her weight gain this week. She's getting her fair share. My favorite part.....little hands cupping my breast while she's sucking away as if there weren't a care in the world. The innocence is beautiful and it almost makes me cry to think that one day it will be gone. For now, I'm cherishing her unknown and basking myself in the simplicity of it all (after I have a good cry and dig out the lansinoh cream that is).

All crazy new baby turmoil aside, it's been a wonderful 10 days. I really do feel full of love, and even though it can be difficult at times, and even though I feel undeserving once in a while, I know that somewhere in the cosmos I had one coming to me. I laugh with the hubby (he is a hottie, huh!) about my life now and we both agree that since my childhood was not so childlike I get to have a good time being a grown up and my blessings abound because I survived adolescence. Funny how that works out.

I'm blessed.

I feel full. My love has grown so much and so fast. I am in awe of the blessings bestowed upon me. I often feel I'm not worthy.

And then there were four.....

We are pleased to announce
Miss Emily Grace Hagarman
9 lbs. 4 oz.
19 1/4 in. long

Big Sister looks like she may be in shock...but she's very happy and settling into her new role nicely.





A tad personal but I'm so in love with this picture. It sums up how special our relationship has become already. There is nothing like the bond between a mother and her newborn child.

All are well and happy. Mama and baby are home and settling in quite well. Even the evil dog senses she's special and needs delicate treatment. What a long journey we've had.....but as you can see, so very worth it.

In exactly

two days I'll be walking into the hospital eagerly awaiting the arrival of my newborn baby girl. I have so many emotions tangled up inside of me right now it isn't even funny. Scared as hell, excited beyond belief, nervous about our firt meeting and so many others. Will she be healthy? Will she cry more than I can handle? Will she eat like a champ? Will she like her mama? Oh the scenarios, the possibilities. Motherhood is one tough business. That is all I have to say.

Some people shouldn't be gifted mouths.

Being the wonderful mummy that I am, I crammed my pregnant belly behind the wheel of the car and went to the Halloween Parade at S's school today. I mostly keep to myself since I'm tired and don't have many positive thoughts running through my mind outside of just getting myself to Friday morning.

Finally, after my fingers have begun to swell to gigantic proportions, the fancy mask parade begins and I give my cheeriest smile I have left in me for all the cute little smiling faces. Cute, cute, cute is all I can say. There is this one little boy in kindergarten who is half the size of all his piers but you'd never know it for a minute because his whole face lights up when he smiles and you wouldn't notice his size if it jumped out and bit you. He's meowing his way through the parade with his little kitten mask he made in art class melting my heart with every step. I'm happy, content and eagerly waiting for my first grader to pass me by. I'm excited to see the relief on her face when she spots me; one of the perks of being a stay at home mom. She asks if I even recognize her with her mask on and I pretend I don't see her. Too cute for words.

The parade is coming to a close and all the parents are sauntering near the entrance and suddenly I spot a fellow daisy scout mom and we share a few words. Only hers are stupid and idiotic and I had all I could do not to tell her what a stupid idiot she is.

"Oh, honey, you've grown." Yeah, no shit. "Are you still babysitting?" No, I finished up last Friday since my c-section is scheduled for three days from now. Thought I could use the extra rest. "C-section you say? Honestly, that's the easy way out. I feel like all women should have to push if I had to. I told my sister to go natural and she insisted on a c-section. I told her she needed to earn that baby!" Earn that baby. EARN THAT BABY. Oh I've earned that baby alright. Who in their right mind would tell a woman who's been pregnant for nearly a year that she needs to EARN her baby. What the fuck ever you dumb broad. I didn't even have words for her. If I had spoke the entire school would of heard me and to be honest I'm not sure my colorful language would be accepted as appropriate for a school function.

Honestly, I really don't understand people some days.

You know you're losing your pregnant mind when.....

you suddenly announce to your husband at 3 am that it sucks having to lock yourself in the bathroom for days so you can update your myspace page every 10 minutes....(I have no idea where that came from!?)

or Thursday morning you're diligently baking oatmeal chocolate chip cookies and driving your child to school the next morning, cookies in tow, for a Halloween party that isn't until Tuesday.

With the baby's arrival so close at hand I believe my mind is getting fuzzier and fuzzier. Normally I have my very own built in remember all; birthdays, anniversaries, important dates to remember all written on my internal calendar. I'm afraid someone may have taken a match to it while I wasn't looking.

Perhaps it's the lack of sleep that has driven me mad, or at least partly to blame. Does this continue after the birth of your child I wonder, or am I looking at a good three years of crazy??

Ever feel like the worst

Mother in the entire world. It feels like I'm having more worst moments than best lately. I'm lacking BIG TIME in the patience category. I may start wearing a Halloween mask just so I can blame the craziness on the ugly witch with the green face and large wart on her nose.

Yesterday was just one of those days I guess. Everything coming down on me at one time and I not being able to handle ANY of it without losing my head. I had S in tears while she was doing her homework because she couldn't quite remember which letters were vowels and which were consonants, the twenty month old I watch part-time was running around sticking her fingers in all the uncovered outlets, I was on the phone with Home Depot bitching about the $25 late fee that I was refusing to pay, and my pain in the ass terrier was chasing my wimpy ass cat around the house at full speed. I had all I could do to keep from lying on the floor in a puddle that would of been my tears. The only thing holding me back was the fact that I wasn't so sure that my big pregnant ass could actually get up OFF the floor once down there. After getting the late fee waved, apologizing while wiping tears off a homework paper, finally covering up those last two outlets, and kicking the dogs ass, I started dinner. Shortly there after the hubby made it home and I was free to let a few tears of my own fall. A little release does the body good, but I have to admit that I could have curled up into a ball (again, if I was in fact capable of that action) and cried into the wee hours of the morning.

Truth be told, I've been weeping a lot lately. I'm just plain tired of carrying this baby around. My body is ready for a comeback, or at least some sort of comeback that doesn't require a living human growing inside of it. I'm ready to sleep soundly, even if it is in short increments. I'm ready to wear something other than the one pair of pants that fit me. I could care less if they were orange lounge pants with baby puke and crusty boogers all over them, I just want options dammit. OPTIONS!!!

I'm almost there now. I have less than 10 days left until delivery. SINGLE DIGITS!!!! Thankfully there is a lot going on between now and then and weekends always bring my spirits up. I just need J now more than I normally do. It's comforting to know that he's here in case I need....oh...a punching bag. :-)

23 more days

until I meet my new daughter. November 3rd is the scheduled day of delivery, provided she doesn't decide to arrive a little early and give us all a special surprise.

Only 23 more days. I think I can manage that.

Note to self.

Try and refrain from taking a bath in your 9th month of pregnancy. Unless of course you invest in say.....a hot tub. You might be able to fit in that a little better.

It wasn't THAT bad, it's more of a design flaw for pregnant women and at the same time a perfect design for pregnant women. At the end of my bath tub there is a little seat. The seat bodes well for showering pregnant women since the seat doubles as a sturdy foot rest while shaving legs. I must admit that this is one task I've kept up with regularly throughout my pregnancy. For the most part the legs have been as soft and silky smooth as they have always been. However, when trying to relax in a hot bath, the seat doesn't work quite as well. Not to mention the fact that my tummy is like a huge boulder sticking out in the middle of a peaceful lake. It was cute and lasted all of 5 minutes before I decided that the shower works best for me in my current state. Oh well. It was worth a try AND I even managed to get up out of the tub without any help. Good thing, since there was no help around.

Cravings are funny lately. I can't seem to get enough baby carrots and apples. I'm on my second bag of carrots in three days and have eaten my way through a bushel of apples in the last few weeks it seems. There are a few other cravings.....like devil dogs, ring dings, swiss rolls. Basically anything that includes chocolaty cake with a creamy filling. Can't be good all the time.

I've also made a decision on delivery I think. I'm always back and forth and have been since finding out about the pregnancy, but now that the big day is drawing nearer I've decided to go for the repeat c-section. Why go through hell if you don't have to? Why not take advantage of the planned event? It will make it so much easier for scheduling help with S and the convenience of knowing exactly when this is going to be over. A countdown so to speak. I am hoping to schedule the surgery at my next ob appointment next Tuesday.

Speaking of, I can't believe it's almost over. I'm not kidding myself into thinking it's all down hill from here. There are still a few sleepless nights, discomfort and agony ahead of me, but it seems very real to me now. I'm going to have a BABY!!!!! SOON!!!!!! I can hardly wait to meet her and feel her tiny little fingers wrap around mine. I want to smell her sweet little baby smell and tickle her little baby feet. I am beside myself with joy thinking of the quiet moments I'll steal with her. I know the baby moon isn't always what you've dreamed about for 40 weeks but with the nasty diapers and screaming infant comes all the good stuff I mentioned above.

It's going to be wonderful watching her grow. Being able to stay at home with my children is the greatest gift I've ever been given. It's not all roses but it's not all thorns either.

What was I thinking?

Reading the blog of a grieving mother who just lost her newborn baby back in June? I must be absolutely nuts. I'm not freaking out majorly or anything like that. I'm also not the paranoid type that waits for something bad to happen to me. I would like to think that I'm an optimistic with a dash of complainer. Sometimes more one than the other depending on my day. It's just amazingly sad reading about this woman's pain from losing her child. I can't seem to stop dipping into the past 6 months of her life.

Two weeks before the birth of her baby she was feeling much like I am right now, exhausted, irritated, slightly irrational and a tad sick of being pregnant. One entry ended with the comment "How am I going to manage a pre-schooler AND a baby?" My heart broke for her at that moment because I was peeking into her past; there is no baby to juggle. How sad for her that she went through the entire pregnancy and birth just to have her baby die in an ambulance on the way to the nearest NICU after living a brief 7 hours. She wasn't even with her when she died. There wasn't even a reasonable explanation for her death. Something about the umbilical cord being compressed for too long and the baby suffered severe brain damage due to lack of oxygen.

The mom chose a home birth and is a midwife in training. Most women choosing a home birth end up having the experience they dreamed of. Having their beautiful child placed into their arms, breastfeeding the minute the child finds the sustenance and lying comfortably in bed an hour later with their lover and baby between them connecting the love they share for a lifetime. This home birth did not work out that way. It just doesn't seem fair though I know life isn't fair by any stretch of the imagination. There is a circle to life and sometimes that circle is long and prosperous and sometimes that circle is over soon after it began.

I'm sad for her loss and I hope that someday she and her family find peace with their loss. I can't imagine what a void this has left in their hearts. I'm grateful for reading her story. It puts things in perspective right at this moment. I'm learning to enjoy the last few moments of my baby growing inside of me. I'm doing my best to give into the discomforts and sharp jabs to the ribs that take my breath away. It all signifies a gift that has been given to me. A tiny living wonder that I will cherish and love with all of my heart.

Now, if only I could stop having crazy dreams about my own baby being less that perfect....we'll be okay. I know she'll be fine and the chances of something happening are slim. I've just read too much it seems and have added one more thing to the bag of crazy dreams I'm having in these last few weeks of preggoness. Did I happen to mention that it is OCTOBER!!!!!?????!!!!!

Did you honestly believe

that you could railroad him into a corner and come out on top. Not ALL of our leaders, former and otherwise, are complete idiots.

That interview makes me smile, smile, smile.

Hush little baby

don't say a word. Or just stop with the rolling around in my stomach all hours of the night. One would think that sleep should come easily. ESPECIALY in the last trimester, even more so in the last month give or take a week. I'm going to be a walking zombie for a few months in the very near future. I need to get my sleep NOW.

I know you can't really stock up on sleep. It doesn't work that way. I know that I'm unable to sleep now because I need to be used to getting up and having a chubby little luv bug beckoning its mama for nourishment. But dammit if I don't wish it different.

I want to slap my husband's adorable face clean off because he's breathing too loudly. He's sleeping and I'm lying here wrestling a fetus. I rock my body from side to side in hopes that I can get her fooled into sleep. It's not working. I'm on the verge of tears and there isn't a layette adorable enough to make me feel any better.

The only thing that would make my forget all about all the woes of pregnancy at this moment is a sleeping babe in my arms. However, I would settle for one in my tummy right about now. Please, please, please hush little baby. Mama needs some zzzzzzz's.

The scary part of this.....

is that it could actually happen. Nothing is impossible; our so called freedoms are guaranteed by no one. There could come a day when we are trying to escape the madness of our leaders. We could become the immigrants fighting for a chance at a better life, and willing to die in the process to regain the freedoms that for years have been taken for granted.

http://www.dailykos.com/storyonly/2006/9/20/174152/072

Will there be brighter days when our fearless leader is no longer in control of our country? What does our future have in store? Funny I use the word our. The contents of the story linked above would lead us to believe that it isn't ours at all and the worst is yet to come.

Just guess what I'm thinking today.

I am in serious need. Serious need of change. Not so much in my daily routine, but more so in the area of say, my body.

I have had small fluctuations in my daily moods ranging from unbearably pissed off to breathing. I say breathing because there hasn't been much that has brought me true, lasting, insurmountable joy. I'm happy because I'm just happy in my life. I'm grateful for what I've been given. I'm even grateful that I can carry a child inside of my own incubator and share part of myself with the person I've chosen to spend my days and nights with for eternity. But seriously, enough is enough.

I NEED this to be over. I NEED to move on with the next phase of motherhood. I NEED to feel normal again, or at least a different version of normal. And last but not least, I NEED a stiff drink among other things.

I am just spent, tired, SICK TO DEATH of this pregnancy. It's consuming me night and day. I've forgotten who I am anymore and feel like the pregnant lady waddling aimlessly along because my memory has lapsed yet again and I have no idea what it is I'm setting out to accomplish. I feel like all sanity is lost, never to return again. Ever.

I can't cuddle my husband comfortably anymore. I have no interest in anything sexual. I can't even see my va-j-j. I'm barely capable of wiping after a bathroom break. Not that it matters because I'm usually pissing myself a couple of seconds later when I bend over to hike up my lovely maternity pants. I could go on and on but there are more than a few mums out there who can relate to each and every one of my complaints and have lived to tell the tale.

I just wish that my mind had other things floating around in it. This here preggo thing has exhausted it's welcome. On the bright side, I have about 6 more weeks to go. That's not SOOOOO bad, I guess. Another happy thought is my up and coming visit this weekend with my sister and her two children. I can't wait to have some time with family. Even if only for a few days. It will take my mind off things briefly and boost my spirits for a wee bit. After that I'll be nesting like crazy and getting ready for the anticipated arrival of my darling child.

A few pics.....

Uncensored version in really ugly grandma pants.....but you gotta do what you gotta do.....there is no such thing as feeling pretty in your 8th month.




The spoiled family pet.



Family photo.



My brand new 1st grader!!!!

How dare she!!

My little baby girl got into trouble for the first time at school yesterday. She hopped off the bus in a fit of despair yesterday afternoon and exclaimed how HORRIBLE her day was. It was her first devastating experience with one of her teachers.

I had the day off in regards to babysitting duties yesterday. I was so excited to have some alone time to bond with her. I even picked up smoothie skittles for an afternoon snack to fit the occasion. Good thing I was prepared for lifting spirits and wiping tears. I was grateful I could pull out something special to make it all better.

The story begins as we're walking up our driveway and I had asked how her day was.

"I got into trouble today, Mom."

"You did, what happened?"

In the best sarcastic voice she could muster to mask the tears approaching, she continued. "Because I didn't read a book!!"

"Why didn't you read a book?"

Tears are now dangerously close to the brim of those luscious eye lashes. "Because I was tired, Mom, and I didn't think she was serious!!"

"Well honey, you should listen to your teacher. Did you cry?"

Large tear slowly crept down her soft kissable cheek. "YES!!!! And she sent me to the HALLWAY!!! She said I was wasting my time!!! All the other kids were being loud and talking and I was just sitting there and I was the one getting into trouble!! Only one other kid asked me if I was sad and everything!!"

The conversation continued with me questioning her, making sure I got the story straight. The whole version of the story, not just S's version. Turns out the teacher had asked her twice to get a book and S being the day dreaming mosey type unknowingly tested the patience that teacher had left at the end of a long drawn out day with 20 6 yo kids.

I know this mosey very well, but I couldn't help but feel a bit defensive thinking that some woman I barely know had made my daughter cry. I secretly wanted to draw blood and make her pay for the pain inflicted upon my sweet darling child. Doesn't she realize how lucky she is to even have her in her classroom?!?!!!!!!! I managed to hold my composure and make the best of a bad day. What kind of role model would I be if I had ranted and raved about how dumb that stupid teacher was and perhaps she should use alternative discipline procedures with sensitive children like mine?

I simmered a while and thought heavily on how I would approach this situation with my little gem. I explained that happens sometimes at school and that listening and following through the first time is always best in any situation with any grown up in charge. Other children's behavior should have nothing to do with her own and to always do what she feels is right. I explained to her that sometimes after a long day the teacher's tolerance of "bad" behavior is not as great as it may have have been that morning and that may have been the reason she was sent into the hall.

We talked, shared skittles and sat at the table together while she worked on her homework. I showed her the fantastic sticker she got on the previous days homework and the "Beautiful Work!!" the teacher wrote up in the corner as well. I hugged her and told her that next time she should pay close attention and make sure she follows the teacher's directions always and if she did so, she wouldn't get into trouble like that again. I let her know that the teacher still likes her and that she just needs her to pay attention and to use her time in the very best learning ways she can at school.

I still hate that she cried, but I know I have one of the most sensitive children on the block. She is a Pisces, after all. A very sensitive, emotional Pisces who can be hurt easier than most. It just broke my sensitive Pisces heart is all.

Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh.........

I think I may make it after all. School is back is session and I am free to rest and rejuvenate myself as needed for the last two months of this pregnancy. Not too mention the fighting is down from ten hrs a day to three and I for one couldn't be happier.

I've been deprived of much needed sleep lately due to churning thoughts and less than comfortable body positions. When I am sleepy enough to fall asleep I wake up a million times to empty my bladder that is incapable of holding more than a teaspoon full it seems. If it's none of the above, I'm battling a squirming baby in my stomach that just happens to find time to party on at 2 am. I actually took a three hour nap today and could of slept another hour. It felt so good to get into bed without anyone in there to crack me in the head with an elbow and since the growing fetus was so tired from partying all.night.long, she was actually tired as well. WOO HOO!!! S actually mentioned how much happier I seemed today and she just knew once I could get some rest that I would be in better spirits. I felt happy and sad at the same time hearing her words. Hopefully, at least for her sake, I'll be able to manage a good mood or two over the next few weeks.

There is something to be said for routine and order I guess. It feels good to run a tighter ship because of schedules and such. I've really missed having my alone time and I know S missed the social interaction with her piers. WaHOO!! Now if I can just make it through eight more weeks of feeling liked a stuffed turkey! Lucky for me I'll have popped my timer already come Thanksgiving.

One.More.Week.

However short that may seem to some, it feels like a lifetime over here in my neck of the woods. Two months ago I couldn't wait for summer to begin and school to be out. Now.....if I don't see a big yellow bus soon I'm going to lose my mind.

I know that there are so many other wonderful Mommies in the world praising the gods of No. 2 pencils that their little angels are slipping on their trusty new back packs for yet another year of arduous learning. I know I sure am. I can hardly keep my eyes open for more than 4 hours at a time. I slip in and out of consciousness all day practically. It's a wonder that we haven't had any accidental fires or hair cutting of any sorts the past month.

I wonder if I would feel differently if I weren't approaching my 8th month of pregnancy. I have a serious lack of motivation as of late and it is killing me physically and emotionally. I have a ton of things I could do but barely find myself capable of the bare minimum. It doesn't help that I have to spread my legs two feet apart just to bend over to pick up a crayon. I lose my cookies regularly and always feel incredibly guilty that I can't seem to deal with the normal everyday noise levels and messes of 6 year olds. By the end of the day I feel like I've burned more brain cells than any smoke fest I've ever attended. And that's saying something.

I am praying that the change in routine does the mind some good (there is no hope for the body for at least another two months). I can nap without worry every morning and do my prenatal yoga without having to pause mid way through to diffuse a fight over who had what barbie first. Not exactly conducive to a peaceful mindstate, as if doing yoga with a belly the size of a large watermelon was easy to begin with.

Daily struggles aside, I finally have an end in sight. I can hardly wait for One.More.Week. to get here and pass me by.

Can I

make it 11 more weeks? Sure. But it ain't gonna be pretty.

How quickly we forget what it feels like to carry a beloved child in our womb for that last home stretch.

I'm rummaging through old photographs to see if I actually made it through this once before. Right about now I'm doubting that. My strength and overwhelming joy are eluding me at the moment.

I feel like a whiny little baby because I'm just barely 7 1/2 months. I wonder if it should feel this uncomfortable already. Are you sure this baby wasn't concieved in December?

Several folks have given me that "holy shit woman, you're ready to have that baby any day huh?" Eat shit people. That's all I have to say to you.

I am not going to be the prettiest girl walking these next two months. Nor the nicest I dare say.

I'm sick

That is my only way to describe myself when it comes to certain things. One thing would be my dog Sadie.

We all know how lonely it is to be a stay-at-home Mom sometimes. Especially when you're isolated from friends and family. You try and meet other Moms and venture out sometimes to playgroups, YMCA, and other kiddie hangouts, but more often than not you never find anyone that clicks. Finding someone who can understand half hick/half whatever the other half of me is can be rather tricky. I don't even understand myself most of the time, how am I to expect complete strangers to.

Having said all that, for Christmas last year, during one particular week moment on my husband's part, he agreed on an indulgence of a brand spanking new puppy. A little buddy that could be all my own when everyone is gone, leaving Mama all alone with nothing to do except laundry. As much grief and angst as this sweet little darling causes me, I love her. I have developed a rather tight bond with her, and she with me. The thing about a dog is, they never cease to show you how much they adore you. If I'm sitting on the couch, Sadie is sitting with me. If I'm trying to catch up on some of my lost zzzzz's, she's snuggling cozily beside my growing belly. If I'm having a tinkle moment in the bathroom, she's looking up at me with big brown eyes waiting for me to finish my business so we can cuddle again. She LOVES her some Mama.

I'm suffering great anxiety today. Anxiety caused from having to leave my puppy at a hospital for two nights to have surgery. Two very long and agonizing nights my baby will be separated from her Mama. This is going to be more traumatic for her than me because I swear the dog suffers from separation anxiety as it is. When she goes out to pee in the morning she freaks out when she comes back in because she was away from her family for an agonizing 15 seconds.

I know it's silly to feel so sad about my dog getting fixed. She is only going in to get spayed. It will probably aide in making her a calmer and more enjoyable dog and keep her healthy for years to come. Dogs can get all kinds of ailments in their reproductive organs if not spayed. I don't want her getting sick and I certainly don't want her having sex with any other dogs either. So we HAVE to do this. She will be in the capable hands of my husbands aunt, the vet, her surgery will be free of charge and we can do all this in one quick trip to the in-laws.

Maybe it's not so much leaving Sadie that is causing me the stress as much as the quick trip to the in-laws. Who knows.

I'll survive, Sadie will survive and all will be well. No more handmade doggie diapers. No more bitchy puppies struggling puberty. It's straight into menopause for my little babe.

I know, I need help. Or a couple of friends. Dogs are easier.

Heartburn sucks

That is about all I have to say about that.

I went to the ob today for my 27 wk appointment. I swear those people want to keep pushing my number back a week every time I go in there.

I'm 27 weeks and there is nothing you can do to change my mind people. I don't care what your wheel is telling you, I'm telling you that I'm 27 weeks. Make a damn note of it.

"Oh my, do you realize that you gained 7 lbs this month dear?!?"

Why no, ma'am. I had no idea I had gained that much weight. What, with all the time I spend on the scale at home I just didn't have time to add up the numbers in my head.

First of all, it was 6 lbs. And yes, I'm well aware the scales are creeping up at a rate faster than what is deemed appropriate for the average pregnant lady. No one is more aware of that that me.

Did it ever occur to you that I may not be average. Or perfect, or as disciplined as some of the other pregnant women you're taking care of. Or maybe I haven't been able to adequately remove waste from my body more than once every 10 days for the last 6 + months. That's got to count for something.

I hate going to the see the Dr. I hate the critical comments. I hate the horrific gasps every time I step onto a scale. I am not a child. I swear to God that I'm doing everything in my power to curb my weight gain. I even manage to feel some pride in the fact that I've only gained 25 lbs so far during this pregnancy. I say only because I gained 60 the first time around. Right now I weigh 40 lbs less than I did when I went in to deliver S. I know most women should only gain 25-35 lbs. but I'm not most women. I'm me. And I just might gain 40 this time around. If that happens I'll be jumping for joy because I have 20 lbs less to lose after this baby is born than I did with my first. To me that feels pretty darn good.

I told my sister what happened today and how much weight I have gained and she busted out laughing at me. "You're going to put on 50 lbs." she said.

I always knew you were the mean one, oh and just for the record, I weigh the same as you do right this minute at 7 months pregnant. I hate to think such mean thoughts but sometimes I feel like she is just waiting for me to do something wrong so she can rub it in my face. Sometimes she can be so cruel.

Anyway. That is another post for another day.

Blame it on the heartburn I guess. I get cranky when I can't sleep, and lately that seems to be ALL the time. I am scared to even think of what the next three months will be like.