Hide The Cookies For Yourself

I’m rounding the corner of my pregnancy and nearing the finish line now which has me spending some time reflecting. Thinking particularly of my pregnancy 3 years ago with my son and how differently I see things this go around and how much I’ve gone through these past few years.  It’s been a humbling few years.  Little humans will humble you, regardless of how they came to be in your life.

Now, please know that I do not think I am a parenting expert AT ALL nor am I someone who should dish out advice.  So think of these as few tips that pertain to parenting, just a heads up. Lessons I’ve learned. Because we’re friends. And we’re cool like that.

  • If you take prenatal yoga, you will spend most of the class trying not to fart or pee your pants.  Don’t let that deter you. Do it, it’s great! I didn’t do it with my first pregnancy and I’m so glad I did it this time around.   I’m just letting you know so it won’t be a total surprise when you need to spend a straight hour clenching your ass while it’s up in the air in front of a stranger.
  • Do not judge other parents for petty shit. Because one day your kids will act up and force you to react the same way.  I promise you will. It’s one of the unspoken laws of parenting.  One day you’ll find yourself telling (yelling) your kid to walk from the car to the door barefoot because you’re DONE reminding them to keep their shoes on until they get inside the home and you don’t care that it’s raining and you’ll really eat your judgy judgmental words.
  • You will neglect your pets.  Don’t panic.  It’ll only be a little bit and it won’t be forever. You will figure out a routine so your pets get walked, fed, and loved like they used to.  Your kids will make it up to them by being sticky and delicious and forever accidentally (and purposefully) dropping snacks for them. It evens out.
  • Once your child is aware that their shirts and pants are in the dresser and can reach them, do not bother folding their clothing anymore. Ever. I mean it. You can ball it up and throw them in the dresser because they’re going to do it for you anyway.
  • Depending on the kid, your nursery will start to look like a bare showroom with duct tape on electrical outlets and teeth marks in bed frames.  Or is that just me?  Am I the only one whose kid is part beaver?
  • It’s okay to feed them fast food. Get the McDonalds or the Dairy Queen or the pizza. Save your sanity and feed the children. They’ll survive to tell the tale. And they will, they’ll tell everyone you fed them chicken nuggets and fries.  And when they tell the story, you’re the hero, not the villain.
  • If you feel like you’re struggling and need help, it’s okay to ask for it. I insist, please ask. Demand help. I will be so proud of you. Like first time your kid goes on the potty proud.   If you feel like you have no one to ask, ask me. I’m officially designating myself YOUR person to talk to, should you feel up to it.  We can sit in silence and watch tv, I can hang with your kids while you have a nice hot bath, we can go for a walk or we can cry together.  Whatever you need. Don’t suffer alone.
  • Hide the cookies for yourself. I know we teach our children that sharing is important, and it is. But sometimes, it’s nice to have something just for you. When you finish a bag of frozen vegetables you can hide the cookies in there. And eat them later in the shower when you’re finally alone.

Just kidding.  I don’t eat cookies in the shower anymore.  I’m a mean mom now, I eat them right in front of my kids and tell them life isn’t fair. Part of the many lessons I’m here to teach.

Like I said, I’m no pro.

Drop me a line and tell me more tips and lessons you’ve learned!

 

The Little Zygote That Could

I did it. Well, I don’t know how much of it was necessarily me or just luck.  Maybe it’s fate or simple biology. Who knows, not me.  My body did it.  And I’m thankful.

It held on to a little baby seed. The little zygote that could.

After miscarriages, periods, doubts, fear, and time (seemed like forever – in real life it probably wasn’t), I finally got pregnant. From the second I became pregnant, I knew it. Not in a loving “mama could sense it” way but in a “sick from day one” way.  My body let me in on the secret. A secret to be shared with the porcelain god and anyone within earshot.  I am definitely “lucky” I was unemployed at the time because there wouldn’t have been a chance I could keep it from my coworkers or employer.

It hasn’t been easy so far but I’m not complaining (shut up, Doug).  The sickness was unbearable for the first three months but it’s always sort of a relief to know that the baby is really thriving in there.  I finally stopped acting like the hero I’m not, once I reached month 4 I got a prescription for Diclectin.  I feel mostly like me again! Praise modern medicine!

I’ve been trying to keep my head straight this time around and enjoy all the moments I’m able to, should the present pregnant moment be my last pregnant moment.  I’m not anticipating a disruptive and terrible end. I’m just not wasting my time worrying every single second of every day that something has could go wrong and instead embracing the time that I’m given.

When I was pregnant with my first, I spent every moment in my head. Freaking out. Overthinking everything. (That’s my ‘thing’- did I tell you I’m obsessed a sinkhole will open up under my house? I digress). Did we have enough “stuff”? Did I prepare enough? Am I taking the right vitamins? Am I eating enough “good” food? How can I be a new mom and a stepmom?  My incessant and stressful worrying led me back down the path of depression I’d fought so hard to get out of in my teens and 20s.  I spent the final months leading up to my son’s birth attending mental health counseling and feeling like I was in the dark despite the brightness and blessings of my life around me.  My son’s first year found me struggling through a postpartum depression (PPD) haze, doubting my happiness and indulging in stress.  It took me an additional half year or so to realize I even had PPD and had developed some unhealthy coping skills to manage it (first I was spending money I didn’t have, later I was drinking more wine than I cared to admit).  I’ve made the decision that, with this pregnancy, I’d try to let go of those things I can’t control and embrace the moments along the way.

So, bring on the fun pregnancy photos in the snow. I might even do a maternity shoot this time!  I’ll definitely be writing about my experiences a lot more, even if it’s just for my own eyes.  Every day is not the same and I definitely have to remind myself to chill out and stay present.  For example, I may have freaked out a little bit before my last ultrasound after reading a few stories about children born with 2 heads or imagining there was an alien baby in there.  But I didn’t fall down the spiral. I saw it up ahead and spoke to my partner and the ultrasound technician about my concerns.  That particular spiral is safely in the rearview for now.  The world is safe, there is no Decepticon in my womb.  That would have been cool though, right?

I’ve begun month six and my baby is on track and my health is good – so far, this path is definitely less rocky than the last. I haven’t set up a single thing, purchased anything (we’re hoarders so we do have tons from the other two kids) and have yet to be consistent in taking my vitamins. What I lack in pill form, I make up for in trips to the refrigerator. The bathroom scale can attest to it.

I’m just human.  No path is the same as another, nothing is perfect and no one knows exactly what to do or what they’re doing.  It’s better to accept those imperfections as best you and I can and move forward rather than try to pretend they don’t exist.  Trust me on that one.

Predetermined

Last night, I stole a muffin that was meant for my kids and I ate it. Once they were out of sight, I seized my opportunity and gleefully stuffed the gigantic chocolate chocolate-chip muffin into my mouth while watching a PVR’d episode Big Bang Theory.  No less than 2 hours later,  nausea kicked in. The porcelain god began to play his siren song and I was drawn to the bathroom.  All night long, I suffered. Paid my dues. Karma is a bitch and she got her revenge.  Never again will I steal a muffin given to my kids by their grandfather. Please pay attention to how specific that “never again” was…. I may borrow a muffin from my children in the future, just not in the scenario mentioned above.

There is the possibility that it’s simply the stomach flu and it was a random bug I picked up along the way,  an occupational hazard for being a parent.

I’m too dramatic for a simple bug, so karma it is!

While I lay on the couch, resigned to my fate, I opened up a little package I’ve received in the mail. Three great books with a lovely note that said, “you deserve these. Get reading and writing, make this time count”.

I’m inspired! How thoughtful! So kind!

Just another twist of fate.  While I am in the process of starting my own business and writing with focus and purpose, I get this motivation at my door!

If you haven’t already, please re-read that last bit in a sarcastic tone. Now, you get it.

I sent this package to myself.  Surprise!  I was surprised when it arrived, my memory is terrible and I forgot I ordered it online.

I bought myself a book to improve my writing style, another to try a new author and the third to visit a well-known one.  At the checkout, I added the note because I think I’m hilarious.

I’m a believer of fate but sometimes you gotta make your own destiny, or at least push it in the direction you want.

Am I right? Or am I right?

 

 

Voluntold

She took a deep breath, sensing the shift in the room. Their eyes all darted back and forth, from her, and to each other, eventually resting on the clock. Looking nervous and, seemingly, holding their breath, they looked down at their blank papers and quickly scribbled a name.

A quick glance up at the clock, she knew her time had run out. Rather than have her fate decided for her, she knew it was her moment to make a choice.  When she sat up straight and cleared her throat, a few of them jumped, expecting her to contest.

She told the group, “I’ll do it. I volunteer.”  Sighs of relief immediately echoed through the room, small smiles breaking through.  She thought of her family – her husband and kids… is this the right decision? It was too late now…..

“And we have this years elementary school Parent Advisory Committee president!”, someone gleefully cried out!  They all clapped and she grimaced….

….what did she do….

200w
property of the internet and Katniss 

Can’t go back

shortly after this photo, he forgot he didn’t have back support and rolled right off the bench. it was hilarious.

I’m pretty sure I’m in the midst of a life changing moment. It’s either that or I’m going to make a really bad decision.

All I know for sure, I’m done missing moments like this.

Ps – as soon as Tdawg hit the ground after rolling off the bench he promptly exclaimed,

“I’m okay, I’m okay!”

There’s a life lesson in here somewhere, I know it….

Puddles and Playgrounds

Cold and rainy days are perfect for snuggles and Seinfeld. Or sandwiches and Sopranos, depending on who you are. Today my son taught me that days like these are also for puddles and playgrounds.

As soon as he saw the slide from the window he yelled and pointed,

“THAT ONE!”

That one means I must have that/I must go there/We must see that. Reading toddlers wants and needs is a fine-tuned skill. I hope to have my diploma by the time he turns 17.

Since I’ve been wallowing in self-pity for the past 3 days (see Recharge) and haven’t been the best Mom (although, we DID just come from McDonalds, sooooo…..), I figured I owed the kid one.

After decking my baby out in a pair of my socks and buttoning up his coat against his will, we ran to the park in the rain.

“IT’S WAINING!”

No shit.

But he ran with a smile on his face.  He splashed in the puddles for 3.5 seconds, looked at the slide, down at his cold hands….

“I go.”

So, we left. Back to the car we went. No tears, no time lost or wasted, no big deal.

A new rainy day activity to add to my repitoire.  Maybe it won’t be my go-to activity, I’m still a lazy girl at heart. And on the surface, really.

It’s nice to have some options.