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Discovering motherhood…one poopy diaper at a time.

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but don’t worry, I’ll get my chance later today.  Just cat poop but, still, I’ll get my chance.  That being said…

At risk of sounding like an ass (a risk I seem to take rather frequently, so it seems), I would rather be scooping elephant shit than be a mom today.  Yesterday, too.  I am not enjoying it these past few days, I am just wishing I was anywhere but here.

It is hard to admit that, especially to the THOUSANDS (insert laughter here) of readers that are viewing this post.  It is, however, the truth.  There are days like that.  I have no doubt that every parent has had days they questioned their decision to have children and pondered the thought of selling them to the gypsies.  Too bad gypsies are hard to find these days.

I just want to put this out there for any parent, new or experienced, that harbors these thoughts.  They are ok.  It DOES NOT mean you don’t love your child.  I know this to be FACT, as I still love my child and would throw myself in front of a bus to protect her even as I type the words.

I think I need a break.

Mostly, I am adjusted to my new life as a mom.

There is one hang-up I still have:  Wishing my life now more closely resembled my life pre-baby.

I know.  It is a selfish hang-up.  But it is how I feel. 

I have been back home for 5 days from a girls-trip to Florida and I can honestly say that no matter the fact I missed Kira terribly while I was away…I still didn’t want to come home.  I wanted more time to myself, with my friends, on the beach.  I thought about how many times in my pre-baby life I’d thought about moving to the beach and being a beach-bum for a living.  I’d be good at it.  I could spend 8-10 hours a day on the beach renting out chairs and umbrellas…hell, I think I was made for that job.  I dreaded coming home.  And, yes, I certainly do realize EXACTLY how bad that sounds.

At one point, my wishful thinking included Kira as I considered the thought of her and I heading off to the sand and shores.  I tried to include Vince, although that was more dificult since he isn’t exactly a beach loving person, but I did try

After much debate and reverie during my final moments in the sand and surf, I realized that all these thoughts are a direct result of one thing and one thing only:

I still long for the freedom to come and go as I please.  The freedom to walk out the door and not come back, even though I am by nature a more responsible person than that.  The freedom to take a loooong vacation and to move to the beach for good, if I so choose.  The freedom to vacation with Vince where ever we want to go.  The freedom to grab my wallet and go shopping on a whim.  To lay out in the sun and read a book for hours on end.  To go have a drink with my friends, to do whatever, whenever, wherever…

I still long for that freedom…

It makes me feel incredibly selfish and guilty, even just thinking it. 

I love Kira in a way that I have never loved anyone, anything…and that is saying so much, because I love hard everytime I love.  But this is so different, loving this child that grew inside my body.  This child that looks like me, this child who has my blood pumping through her veins, her heart.

I would never even consider leaving her, I can’t even get a clear image of what my life from this point on would be like without her, and God forbid if anything ever takes her from me…I can’t even try to think how I would/could go on, it makes me tremble and shudder at even the thought.  Even with all that love…even still, I wish for the freedom I know I can never have.

I am curious if it ever goes away.  If this is something all parents feel or if my being thirty-something as a first time parent makes this feeling even stronger.

I’d love to hear what you have to say on the subject.

Apr
6
Momism

I discovered what I believe to be the best thing about motherhood this weekend.

Yesterday was a not-so-good day.   Kira woke up early after two restless nights of teething, I hadn’t slept much myself and my head was pounding.  I was just plain crabby from the moment I opened my eyes.

To be blatantly honest, the first half of my day I was thinking to myself how I wish I was alone in bed with my dog and cat, the way I would have spent the first half of a Sunday before marriage and baby, even if only for one day.  I put my pillow over my head and tried to muffle the sounds of my child fussing, cooing, and making raspberries in the other room.

Then the latter half of the day, my beautiful child behaved and interacted with me while out to dinner and shopping in a way that made me very proud to be a mom, to be her mom.  She was as sweet and funny and tolerant of our excursion as anyone could ever hope for a 5 month old baby to be.  She complimented me so well that she made me look like a pro.

The bottom line?  The best part of motherhood to me is that no matter how crappy a day or how bad it sucks from time to time, you always get another moment (or a whole day, if you’re lucky!) to do things different, better.  I started out yesterday feeling like a crappy mom and a failure and ended my day feeling like the best mom with the best kid in the world.  Every day is new.  Every day can be better than the last, every day I can make better choices.  Even when I make a mistake, my child still smiles at me.  This won’t be the case forever, someday she will hold me accountable for my mistakes and/or bad behavior…but for now, I’ll take it.

Her smile makes me want to be a better person.


Today we started out with her sleeping well all night from 7:30 p.m. until 8:00 a.m. and when she woke she was cooing and talking to me in her sing-song way.  A good start to a good day, or so I hope :)

I have been absent.  That is an obvious fact.  I won’t apologize.  I am too tired to do that.  Having a new baby is the most exhausting job ever; especially one who is gassy, refluxy, and refuses to sleep.

So, what am I going to do about this blog?  If there is anyone still checking in to see if there is anything new to read, then I suppose I will tell you what is on my mind about it.

I miss writing to you.  I miss my blog.  I miss my former life, pre-baby, when I spoke in a normal voice, had time to write and for that matter think, had something to say, had a sense of humor and had less spit-up on me…oh, how could I forget, and less luggage under my eyes.

Not that I don’t love my baby, so don’t get all bent on me…I just miss the way things were and I have finally accepted that they will never again be the same.  I am okay with that, but still mourning a bit.

So, now that I have survived what I am hoping is the worst part of parenting (the first couple of months) I am going to make a concerted effort to accomplish the following things:

  1. Find time to blog
  2. Think of something to say besides baby gibberish
  3. Post pictures
  4. Change my outdated theme
  5. Update with a new logo
  6. Get over the fact that I didn’t want to turn this into a “mommy blog” because I am a mommy and I can’t find the time to maintain an additional blog.  Don’t worry, it won’t be all mommy stuff and I will still throw in the occasional raunchiness to entertain you with.
  7. Complete all these things (in no particular order) before March.  Of this year. Hehe.

So, now you know what is on my mind.  Do check back occasionally, as I will be posting more often starting right now.

We had our inspections done on the house we have a contract on and now are preparing to meet with our agent this evening to renegotiate a couple of important issues…let’s all hope that the deal still goes through or we are back to square one looking for a home again, but this time with a newborn in tow.  I really want to be in our own place when she enters this world.  I need it.  I need our own space.  I can’t explain why, nor do I feel the need to .

I have my first baby shower this weekend and the second is next weekend…yay!  I just can’t wait to eat cake and see all my friends and family.  Oh, and see the stuff…you know, the baby stuff.  Baby stuff is fun, we just bought some pj’s that are pink with monkeys all over them.  Hehe.  Monkeys are good.

I am SOOOOOO eating cake tomorrow, even though I am not supposed to have sugar.  I am only human, so LET THERE BE CAKE!

I have to send baby pictures to my bestest friend who is hosting the second baby shower…one problem…I put them in a “safe place” so they wouldn’t get bent.  Oops.  I have been tearing stuff up all week looking for them.

I have acid reflux bad enough that multiple doses of medicine have no effect on it.  I think my esophagus is permanently burned just from last night alone.  I am planning on testing the wives tale that a baby will have a head full of hair if the mom has heartburn/reflux…we shall see!

I spend WAY too much time in my OB’s office every week.  He was right, it is a lot of time spent there and it does suck.

I felt really crappy all week until yesterday, when I suddenly received a burst of energy yesterday that has continued over into today.  Pregnancy is so weird.

P.S.  There will soon be an update of my belly…I swear.

I haven’t posted much lately since we have moved half-way around the world, house-hunted for weeks on end and had pregnancy complications in between.

I have recently entered the state of pregnancy that is extremely uncomfortable and exhausting as all hell.

I have been trying to manage gestational diabetes for close to a month and my fingers are tired of being stuck.

I have to pee pretty much as soon as I get done peeing…sooner if the baby is applying pressure.  I should just hang out in the bathroom.

I am seeing my doctor twice every week to monitor both myself and the baby.  Mostly the baby, as gestational diabetes involves a higher risk of still birth.

Currently the baby is 3.5 lbs. and wiggling all the time.  I think she was on a spin cycle all day Monday and oddly enough it was clockwise the entire day.

We FINALLY found a house we like and put a contract on it.  We have looked at nearly 70 homes in our price range and only liked this one house enough to put a contract on it.  I would venture a guess that our real-estate agent is annoyed with us and likely relieved that we are nearly out of his life.

I recently discovered that I will be REQUIRING nursing and sleeping bras…holy crap, I didn’t even know what a sleeping bra was for!

I also recently discovered that it gets really difficult to reach your “area” to wipe after peeing.  Nobody tells you these things about pregnancy…

I haven’t seen my fuzzy boys (Francis and Burrito) in 8 weeks.  I miss them so much I can’t stand it.  I dream of them nearly every night.  I am having withdrawal symptoms and I am so worried they won’t remember me, well at least that Burrito won’t remember…I am pretty sure Francis will remember, he will just be mad.

I have severe leg/back pain every day and night.

I have two baby showers coming up and I can’t wait!  It will be great to see everyone AND I get to have cake since I have been on this no sugar/low carb/restricted calorie diet for almost a month.  Yay!  Cake! 

If I had to choose between cake or death, I would definitely choose CAKE!

I clearly underestimated how much we would have to do on this first week of having Cybr with me here in St. Louis.

I am so very tired.   Exhausted, really.

We have found a car we like and are going to buy it tonight, assuming all goes well.  The fuzzy kids are sick and I am taking them to the vet today.  All week long, I have been driving the Great White Truck that my dad has loaned to us to the MetroLink station to drop Cybr off to go the rest of the way to work.  Then I have been driving all the way back to my job, which takes another 30-ish minutes.  Then doing it all over again in the evening and going straight to car lots until they close at 9 p.m.

We are both exhausted.

Good news!  I saw my doctor and we have our first baby picture!

I wish I was capable of filling this post with wit and humor, but I am bummed out about my kittehs.

I miss them.  I worry about them.  I need my kitteh’s.  At least a kitteh fix.  I am having serious withdrawals.  It has been three weeks since I last saw them and there isn’t much chance of me getting to visit with them anytime in the next 3 weeks. 

Let’s just hope I can endure the withdrawal symptoms, they are a real bitch.

Cybr gets home in about 5 days, well probably closer to 6 if I actually counted the hours…as much as I miss him, well, I am still not counting hours.  Only days.

There is so much going on and all feel like doing is taking a nap…

If you are totally depressed, then perhaps you can stop by Baby Barie and get a laugh at my expense.

Tired, busy, tending to obligations, waiting for my husband to get here…

Seriously, I have a writer’s block or my mind is just very distracted. 

I have been working this week and enjoying it.  It wears me out though.  It is because of the little parasite, not because of the work.

I am enjoying my pregnancy, my belly is bigger and apparently my uterus is the size of a basketball…that is according to the pregnancy bible, “What to Expect When You’re Expecting”.

I have no room for food, it must be the ginormous uterus

If my husband were here, I would nom him…nom-nom-nom-nom.

I really miss him and although I only have another 7 days or so until he gets here and I am keeping quite busy, time seems to be going very slow.

Our upstairs neighbors don’t really make much noise. Truthfully, with ourselves and the two dogs, I am certain that we make a lot more noise.

That being said, I am not complaining. I am simply making note of the fact that nearly every week our upstairs neighbor rocks out to some Kenny Rogers. Namely, the song “You Decorated My Life” seems to be a big fave.

I, personally, am not a huge Kenny fan. I do like some of his stuff, but the ‘decorating my life’ song just doesn’t do it for me. It doesn’t stop me from singing along with it, though…if you can’t beat ‘em, join ‘em! I would never go complain to them for wanting to rock out to the Kennster, they don’t complain to us (or about us) and I wouldn’t want them to start.

I had a neighbor once upon a time ago that was fixated on one particular artist. Dave Matthews Band was her choice of music to blare so loud it filled every crevice of my flat. There was nowhere to escape Dave and the Band. Initially, I recall thinking that it could be a much worse selection of music and that it was okay since I happened to like Dave Matthews. Eventually, it became a nuisance on the weekends, more and more frequently waking me from my hangover slumber (those were my party days, right Heather??) to a pounding headache and me (or Heather, my hungover roomie and BFF) yelling angrily to ‘TURN IT DOWN!’.

Well, the lesson here is that, more often than not, you get what you wish for (we just don’t always recognize it as such at the time we get our wish).

You see, that neighbor moved away and with her she took the too loud, too often played Dave Matthews Band. However, in her place I received a new neighbor that wasn’t such a big fan of Dave and the Band — but she did bring roaches and reckless drunkenness with her.

So, I got what I wished for, my annoying neighbor moved away (being replaced by crazy, drunk neighbor) and I learned to be more specific when I wished for things.

That, my internut friends, is why I will never complain to the neighbors about too much “You Decorated My Life” being piped into our flat from above.