Como?

I have no idea what just happened. I went to Bloggers new interface and the whole screen blew up and now I have to spend the next 20 minutes searching for how the shit to make this work.

I am up at the assholes crack of dawn to get the big kid off to school and then to work out. Im not even kidding. Because for whatever reason, early morning is the only guaranteed time that the little “high needs” one will sleep for any given period of time, thus allowing me an uninterrupted time to lose this baby weight (because breastfeeding doesnt, thats a myth, or only a reality for people whose bodies dont like to eat a lot to make up for it). So here we are.


Apparently Bloggers new interface uploads photos properly, which is good because I was starting to get really pissed off that I couldnt put the pictures on my blog. I know one day Facebook will go the way of Myspace (which went the way of Livejournal - although I do miss my Livejournal. That site was pretty awesome) and then I will abandon it and all my photos. So, best to keep my favorites at least in a central area.

Although I should probably take some of them off my MAC and into a web album before Steve Jobs rolls over in his grave.

Anyhow. I bring you the best of my week, in pictures. Because Ive been learning how to work our camera (Nikon D3100) AND I got the iPhone 4s. So my ass is taking pictures like the world is ending tomorrow. And it might, so at least Im prepared.

Daddy’s promotion ceremony

Big brother’s basketball game

Youd never believe that hes such a crabby kid :)

This shirt makes me smile

After work bonding

River Street in Savannah 

Before I went out on Saturday (no worries, I ran home three hours later)

Weekend XBOX time

Playdate!

My Elfster gift from my Bumpie. The board has been imperative to me the last few weeks as I havent been able to get out much. Im starting to get back on track but thank God for my Sweet Peas!

The text talk on the iPhone. It picks up at 75% of what you say, the other 25% is usually entertaining. 

I love instagram. If you dont have it, you need it. 

Kids are a lot of work ..

One kid at a time wasnt so bad. Now that we have 2 kids upmyassallthetime its very hard to do things like “blog”, “eat” and “think”. Its very sad and not only am I not funny anymore (at all) its hard to sometimes remember the last time I washed my hair.

I still find the time for playdates though (hello, of course) so now I have to pick up the house for the invasion of babies. Id like for John to be more social, but of course hes 2 months old. His main social interaction is that hes learned to shriek without crying so he spends a lot of time yelling at me and daddy. I hope to get it on video - if you stuck a tiny cigar in his mouth he would look like a crotchety old factory boss who is yelling at his employees.

I wonder where I can get a tiny cigar ....

Other than that, its same old same old around here. Fighting with Devon every day to do his homework, the dishes, get off the gamesystemgooutsideanddosomething.  Babies will make you tired, teenagers will make you crazy.

Tomorrow Im going to a big dinner with my girlfriends - some from here, and some from Lewis. Im so excited to not only have some good food and conversation but to have a break from babyhood. Im so thankful for Allen - every day he gets better at this dad thing. Yesterday John had woken up a lot through the night and he did it again at 430 when Allen was up. Allen came in, took John and told me hed change him for me. I ended up falling back asleep and Allen brought John in BACK ASLEEP. He apparently called his shop and told them hed be a little late, just this once, and put the baby back to sleep so I could get another hour.

I know, dads should do that kind of stuff. But its still pretty awesome to be married to someone who does. He was scared of John at first but the longer it goes on the better he gets with him. And that is a relief for a sleep deprived mom.

Blogger is a fucking assshole so I had to copy and paste this. But Im finally learning how to use my camera. Next up is creating a Facebook page and taking crappy pictures as my “career”. 

(Note: That will not happen)

Thanksgiving ...

Im glad thats over with.

The older I get the more I start to hate the holidays. I know - Im a huge grinch - but its all just a lot of pressure. You have to make good food, you have to give the best gifts and you generally want to have the idyllic fireplace movie scene. And inevitably someone ends up disappointed because that shit doesnt happen.

This year we went totally anti-pressure and it was just Allen, John my mom and me (Devon is visiting with his dad and family for the school break). We had low key meal of roast chicken, sage and celery stuffing, potatoes, white gravy, rolls, green bean casserole and the Pioneer Womans “Pecan Pie That Will Make You Cry”. It was delicious, not a lot of work and we all promptly took a nap after dinner - even John must have realized sleep is what you do on holidays.

THen mom and I went to see The Muppet Movie. My cousin Laura and I loved the Muppet Show so much when we were kids that we wore out not one, but two, VHS tapes of the show. When we saw the previews we each vowed to see it on our respective coasts (she lives in LA and generally has the sort of fabulous life that I can only dream of).

Oh, but on that note .... we actually went out in Savannah on Wednesday with my friends Kelley, Christi and their husbands. Sigh. I want so badly to still be the young-and-fun person I used to be, but its just not in the cards.  I spent half the night feeling like an asshole in my mom jeans and the other half wondering when I could get back to my baby. At 1 am I couldnt believe that anyone stayed out this late anymore and what the fuck were we doing at a bar when we could be at home in warm PJ’s watching Real Housewives on the DVR. I should add that Kelley and Christi are two of my most fun friends, so it was definitely me, and my lack of quality sleep. 

And that is why I have lost my edge. Next time Ill stick to happy hour at Applebee’s and a shopping trip to Target. #bitchisasuncoolastheycome

But how could you want to leave this face??

(As a side note I have no problem leaving him to go to the movies/shopping/ ect. But I just think the bar scene is so done for me - its not fun anymore)

Lets inject some positive up in here!

On a positive note: things are really starting to look up here. 


I knew it would happen, eventually. I think with every duty station change you have that unsettling period. Its the time when you dont belong to the old place and you dont belong to the new place. 


Slowly, however, your life begins to regulate. That feeling of “I dont belong here” starts to get less and less. You start to form real relationships with people. In other words - shit starts getting real.


There are people that I desperately miss, but they are still in constant contact. 


There are people that are naturally going to drift away (thats what happens when you move) and although it makes me sad to see them go I am very grateful for the time Ive had with them.


It feels like a good time to be positive about whats to come.


In other news, John will be two months tomorrow. In one swoop it feels like no time and forever all in one:

2 months ago

What is the deal with Bloggers uploader? Either way, this was a month ago (I know because I took no less than 1404040 “watch me grow” pictures)

Yesterday. I want to squish him. 

I couldnt have projected how amazing this whole thing was going to be. Nothing is perfect - Im human after all. The crying gets to me at times, there are days I miss my old life, and sometimes I get super hormonal and unreasonable. But - all in all - I cant imagine being anywhere else or doing anything else. This little man has changed us all - me, daddy, brother, everyone - for the better. Life is good.

ETA: His two month picture. Someone stop him - hes too much.

Quit being such a birth victim

Look, I know that there are real asshole “natural birth” advocates that will stomp all over anyone that does anything less than  a med and intervention free water birth with the Dali Lama present in complete silence. I will tell you right now that those people are assholes who are probably going to drive their children right into the Young Republican club in high school, much to their patchouli scented dismay.

Those people are idiots.

 I have a lot of friends who said “give me the drugs, I dont want to feel SHIT” and went on to have calming childbirths with healthy and happy babies. And I have never once - not out loud or in my head - “judged” them for that. There is absolutely nothing wrong with getting to have the birth that you  WANT.

In the same right, there are some of us who view birth as a challenge, much like running a marathon. To me, giving birth naturally was something that interested me - therefore it was a challenge I posed to myself. I researched everything I could, I prepped myself for it - mentally and physically. I put in a lot of work, before delivery and during, to push my body to that limit. I have a lot of reasons I wanted to do it the way I did, and Im always happy to talk about those reasons - because if it werent for someone talking to me about it, I dont think I would have understood what the benefits were and why people choose to do it that way. Talking about those reasons, to an audience that is receptive, is not me putting you down for what youve done.

Heres a difference between me judging you and me talking to you:

Person who is pregnant: Im due in a week and I have already set up my epidural. I dont want to feel a thing.

Me: OMG, pain meds are going to kill your baby. You are a horrible mother. Epidurals are the devil and you obviously dont value the entire earth because youre setting the whole planet up for failure.

That is judging. 


Person who is pregnant: I just saw some information on natural birth and it intrigues me. Id really like to do it that way

Me: My natural birth was awesome - one of the best days of my life. Here are some other things you can research to prepare for a natural birth. It really is an awesome way to have your baby and I promise you youll understand why we all are so crazy for it now.

That is not judging. 



Im proud of what my body was able to do. Im proud of myself for setting a goal and sticking to it. I dont understand why the fact that I had this amazing labor experience should really affect anyone else - unless, of course, I tell them that they are somehow less of a person for not doing it exactly like me.

Its something I discovered that I love talking about, I love reading about and that I will continue to want to discuss because Im passionate about it.

I will never ask you “did you get medication?”.

If you tell me you did, I will congratulate you on doing what was best for you.

I wont assume you want to listen to the reasons why I chose to birth the way I did.

If you ask me, I will tell you.

I dont judge you. I dont think Im better than you. I dont secretly assume you dont care about your body, your child, or your life. I do assume that your experience was different than mine.

If someone opens the door to talk about how they want to try to do it the way I did it, I will always offer help in that area. If they should not want that help, I wont push it.

I will be proud of myself for doing it naturally twice. I will be exceptionally proud of myself for hating how my first birth was and finding ways to change that. My first birth was traumatic, my second was healing and for that I will be not only grateful, but I will express that emotion.

If you can say “I had an epidural and it was awesome” then I can say “I did it natural and it was awesome”.

I dont assume youre judging me when you say “I dont want to feel pain, thats crazy”. And maybe you are judging me. But Im secure enough with my choice to not really care because my birth was so amazing I cant wait to do it again. Not only am I not scared, Im excited.


ETA: It was brought to my attention that maybe *I* am being a birth victim for giving a shit what anyone in the world thinks about how *I* gave birth. And actually, that is a very valid point. (This person often has valid points, but dont tell her I said that)

Look, Im not afraid to admit when Ive acted like an asshole, and maybe this is one of those cases. I wrote a blog about something that was emotional to me (which is what I use this blog for - it doesnt need to go on Facebook for the world to see and I assume that whoever reads this blog is someone who is interested in the things I have to say). So I did get my emotions out on this site, but that doesnt mean they are “right”.

My birth is something that was very special to me. I know that a lot of people think thats crazy, and I respect that. So there is a large possibility that I got over emotional about comments that were made (and its not just one comment or one person) to me over the last 2 months.

I vow to lighten up about it. If Im going to tell other people to be secure and stop feeling judged then I damn well better be ready to take my own advice.

You live and you learn :)

Tubby Time

The best part of the day is when I get to watch John and Daddy play together. Their favorite place is the tub.

Blogger is uploading this all shitty. They are way better when they dont get uploaded in 50 different colors. Asshat.

Mommy breaks, and other “must haves” ...

I took my first real momma break yesterday and I cant tell you how fantastic it was.

Allen took both the boys (well, he didnt TAKE them anywhere. He stayed home with them) and I hopped in the car to drive to Atlanta. It was Dana’s birthday and the plan was drinks, lunch and Breaking Dawn.

I cried from the time I got on Highway 16 until I hit Interstate 75 which is about an hour. And I didnt just shed a few tears I ugly Teen Mom Farrah cried. It was hideous. And I called Allen no less than 45 times, each of which he assured me that not only was John alive but he didnt seem to notice that I was gone.

Im not sure wether to be pleased with this or to want to cry some more.

Thats pretty much all I could think about. My dream man is 11 pounds and he farts a lot.

I finally made it there and you could tell that neither Dana or I was used to being able to make a decision without someone - some little one - interrupting our thoughts. So we settled on Roadhouse Grill since they have the famous Roadhouse Tea of our youth. We used to slam back two of those and be done for the night. But ... that was a long time and a lot of months of pregnancy ago.

We each ordered one but quickly realized that there was no way we were going to make it through a whole drink a piece. Our old co-worker Katie was the bartender and we told her to make them weak ... but either Katie’s idea of weak is MUCH different than ours or we really are old as shit.

We talked about how fun we used to be, but neither of us could fathom going back. Its nice to sit down with someone who knows everything about you but still lets you change. No one stays the same person for years at a time - or if they do then they are missing the whole point. 

Then we went to the movie where Dana and I both succeeded in tripping over the same ladies purse - however, Dana managed to catch herself whereas I wasnt so lucky. I was on the fucking floor and so giggly after my one QUARTER of a drink that it took me an entire preview to get up. And I lost my shoe. Good times.

The daddy managed to not only keep everyone fed and happy but he even cleaned up the house when I was gone. He then said that staying at home wasnt that hard but I had to counter that by saying it probably was easier when you slept through an entire night AND no child was attached to your breast. But I really cant complain because a lot of husbands wont let the kid stay with them for an hour, let alone 12, so hes on my very very good list right now.

Wednesday momma is coming into town and we are going to actually go OUT. With friends. To River Street. I am giddy at the thought of doing something normal together for a change. We have an awesome life but between the two boys we dont get a ton of time to remember how much fun we used to be. So this is of importance.

Also, time is of the importance right now. Its so short and so sweet, but its going to be just fine. 

Here it comes

The inevitable. We had a lot of time so cant complain. Time to gear up and put the game face on.

I knew this was going to happen ...

I have this problem. Its called I cant sit still, with a dash of Im jealous when I think other people live fabulous lives and mine is really boring.

Lets put this in perspective. A year ago I was working long hours at a job that was challenging mentally and rewarding socially. I had cemented a few groups of great friends and we did all the fabulous things I am now jealous of people doing. I felt fulfilled in my head (and the ADD monster was satisfied) so in turn I would describe myself as happy.

Now that the newness of the baby has worn off a little and we are into day to day routines, Im feeling a bit of the anti-climatic letdown. I have to think its normal (even if people dont like to talk about it because it makes them look bad - cue me not caring, its HONEST) since the last 10 months were full of baby anticipation, and the new baby rush of love.

Dont get me wrong - I love my boys. All of them. So much so that Id love to do it again. But there is a part of me that sees the freedom that others have and I get a bit envious. I miss going for drinks. Hell, I miss getting out of the house at all. I can still do it but it takes such a monumental effort that most of the time Id just rather stay home. I miss using my brain (although 7th grade social studies DOES in fact present a challenge). I miss dressing up, or going somewhere awesome, or generally having things to look forward to. Now, even when I plan things to do I have this fear behind them - Will the baby cooperate? Can daddy handle things that long? Where will I pump if Im out all day (because you cant go all day without it)? Will I be able to hold a conversation while struggling not to fall asleep?

Its not that I would take it back - I wouldnt. Its just that Im presenting myself with another challenge. Weve hit the 7 week mark, were in a routine, and its time for me to stop sitting around feeling like “normal” is out of my reach and instead do something about it. Daddy can handle the baby (even if he feels like he cant). John wont DIE if left with grandma for the night. Hell, he wont die if he has some formula either - its not going to kill him or take him off the boob for the rest of his life. I need to stop trolling Facebook to see how fabulous other people are living and go for a run, or read a book, or generally do something to make myself feel better.

Plenty of people have babies. Im not the only one. Even if it means taking a few college courses, or finding out how to get John in daycare for 3 hours a week at the gym, or attending meetups to make a new friend. I can and WILL figure out the new normal. Weve lived here for almost 7 months now and I have to let go of the life I USED to have and start figuring out the life Im GOING to have.

So someone hold me to that.

Having 2 kids

Everyone says that you shouldnt have two close together because its hard. Im here to tell you that they are stupid.

Two kids is hard no matter what the age.

Everyone says - “Oh, Devon is old enough to take care of himself, so itll be easier”. These people have never had a twelve year old. Because Im up at 6 to prod him up, in the shower and out the door. Make sure he brushes his teeth and wears deodorant (why are preteens so adverse to being clean?). Then he has to be told to eat and get his ass to the bus stop. Then at 3 we have to structure the day in hour increments because if left to his own devices the kid would never stop playing XBOX. Also we have to do homework and I have to spend most of my time trying to figure out the answers without looking like I  dont know them. Because I dont. At the same time we have to cater to baby dictator around the clock. Also you cant just nurse anywhere in your house when you have a 12 year old there because no kid, no matter how secure, wants to see his moms boob.

Everyone says that I “have a built in babysitter”. Please reference above. The kid cant remember to shower, do you think I want to leave him alone with my infant? No. Hes a good kid/big brother but he wont be opening up a daycare center anytime soon.


This isnt to take away from those who have several that are young as Im sure having them both wake up at different times during the night is murder. But were still going to try to have them close (if we can do it at all since this one was just some sort of strange “freebie”) because kids are hard no matter what the age.

Sometimes I forget to blog. Because it doesnt pay me.

Devon is here and back living with us officially. Its a long story as to the why/how but suffice to say its been a long time coming and it is definitely for the best. So now the boys are watching I Am Legend (not John, although I am SURE we are probably scarring him for life as he sleeps in his swing. We are asshole parents). Middle school is a whole new world from when I attended it and were doing our best to navigate all the sorts of things that you face with a pre-teen. Also, when do I buy him condoms? Does anyone know? So much to learn. My kid has so much attitude its ridiculous. And yet, he is pretty much the cutest thing E-V-E-R. I know that only stuck up and shitty people say things like that, but fine, thats me. He really is THAT cute. But dont worry ... hes only that cute because he has the worlds WORST temperament. He is totally not a happy baby. He simply cannot bear to be around us any further.

He was a precious puppy for Halloween.

Also to whomever searched for: babysitter coming home early daddy And came upon my blog, Im sorry for the obvious disappointment youve faced. This most certainly isnt *that* kind of place. Also .... seek help. Soon. Also - what the fuck did I write about that brought them here? My blog is apparently sneaking nasty things behind my back. Also it took me 6 days to write and post this, which is why its ALL OVER THE PLACE. I just got an email from Barnes and Noble asking me “where Ive been” because I havent purchased an e-book for my Nook lately. Id like to write them back and explain to them that a 12 year old and a 6 week old tend to take up some time and thank them for staying the fuck out of my business from now on.

Blogging? Whats that?

I still have a lot to say (I think) but theres not enough time to get it all down on ... electronic format. I mean yeah I have a baby but I also have a horrid Dr Phil addiction (judge me) and dont always have time to blog. Plus I can Facebook with one hand but blogging proves to be a bit more difficult.

John is a month old today. It goes fast.

Were using the pull and pray method after this. If I end up with 2 under 1 I assume Ill try to throw myself off of a bridge at some point (judge me). It took us four years to make this one, Im EBF’ing and (judge me) I want them close together. Crazy? Maybe. But Im getting older and I dont want to try to have a newborn and chase a five year old when Im in my 30’s.

Additionally I suppose I have to really start working out tomorrow. I keep saying Im going to do it but ... I dont. And I cant afford all new pants. So ... here we go.

The baby dictator gave us a few smiles this week. Like, he look
ed in my face, considered where he knew me from and then smiled right at me. I may have cried a little and then called Allen at work to squeal over it. Thank you for holding your laughter at how I am everything I said I would never be.

Does this post have a point? No it doesnt. You can all move on with your lives now.

John and Daddy in the nursery today. Love this one. 

Precious Puppy

Is so gangster. You think hes so precious and then hell bust a cap.

3 week growth spurt ...

John turned 3 weeks on Friday so Ive been on the lookout for the “3 Week GS” that everyone has been talking about on the BMB. And holy crap - whether he is just psychologically screwing with me or its a reality, this kid is crankfest 2011.

Its sad for daddy who only came in from the field for a few days. Baby Mariah Carey (diva) was pretty well behaved when it was just him and I but almost the second daddy came home he was kicking up dust with his baby cries.

Also, although Allen is way better at the baby phase than anyone expected, he also has a dirty habit of holding said baby until said baby cries and then saying “oh look mommy hes hungry!”. The kid is not always hungry but since I possess the boobs I am the default for any and all crying times.

Anyhow, Allen is gone again and baby Cher (diva) woke up this morning in a rather good mood - he sat in his birdie swing while I ate breakfast, gave minimal fussing at diaper change time and is now asleep like a snuggly baby (actually he looks more like a drunk baby with his head thrown back and his paci dangling from his mouth). Maybe he knows that daddy doesnt listen unless you scream at him?

So today baby Whitney Houston (diva) and I will be trekking to Beba’s house. Because where does every lazy mom go when she wants to drink her coffee with two hands and watch Glee without getting off the couch? To HER moms house. And that is why we hauled our fat asses and two dogs all the way across country. For things like “mommy breaks via grandma”.

“And when you’re done with the laundry bring me my dinner. Chop Chop!” 

This is about right. My kid is attached to the boob. I fear Im setting him up for a lifetime of failure later. 

Also:

Id like to remind myself that cake is not a food group. Maybe my jeans would fit if I wasnt always eating it.

I cant watch anymore Kardashians. They keep saying how “Kim could do better”. Im pretty sure she HAS done better and its on tape and you can watch it for 19.95.

I also cant watch commericals. I was JUST able to sleep normally since Paranormal Activity 1 and 2 were all over TV. Now guess what? Theres a number three and the commercial always comes on during the 1 am feeding when the remote is across the room. So I have to jump up, spray milk everywhere (youre welcome for the visual) and try to beat the demon lady to change the screen. Fuck you whoever made that commercial - Ill send you the bill for my Ambien.

My baby knows when I want to do something that doesnt involve him (like right now) and he screams accordingly. Smart.

Things I do that make me a fucking hypocrite

EDIT: I started this about a week ago and just never got to finish - mostly because Im busy being a mom/listening to screaming/loving a baby. Its pretty much the most amazing thing that tires you out and tests your patience ever. But anyhow - this still stands ....

Fact: All moms will find themselves doing shit they swore they would never do at least once.

Co-Sleeping: Listen. I bought every product on the market to prevent this kid from getting attached to the bed with us. I had an in bed co-sleeper, a bassinet, a crib, a swing ... you name it. I talked a HUGE game about how I was never going to sleep with him since he would never get out of our bed once he got it in.

This lasted 2 hours. And now not only does he co-sleep but he sleeps ON me. I know - its terrible for him .... at least thats what the statistics say. But its as much for me as for him. Because I have officially become “that mom”. The one I never thought I would be.

Being “that mom”: Oh yes. I totally am. My mom told Allen and I to just run out and have a quick dinner the other day. And my heart seized up to my throat. I always said that I would be totally cool with leaving him, and we were going to get baby sitters all the time, and I was going to be super zen about it. And now there is a unit ball in two months and I wont go because I wont leave my kid with anyone.

That makes me a hypocrite. And a lame ass. But thats what it is now.

Using pacifiers: Wasnt going to do that either. Now Im steady trying to jam one in this kids mouth at every turn. MOSTLY because he is a “comfort nurser” and my boobs are going to fall off. He doesnt have much interest in any paci (and Ive tried about 40 different ones) but I just want him to take one in the middle of the night when I cant put him down because hell scream like Im killing him unless he has the boob in his mouth.

True Story.

Being a tit nazi: I had to steal that from my friend Krista’s blog ... I actually dont think I fit that exact mold ... I certainly dont care how anyone feeds their child AND I think people who have an opinion about the way other people feed their babies are assholes who need a hobby.

Im almost embarrassed about how easy breastfeeding has come to us. I see so many people on my birth month board (the “Facebump” as we call it) who have such a struggle with breast feeding that I feel terrible for them. Formula is not only fine if thats what you choose, but its also there for a reason.

THAT said my shameful confession is that I adore breastfeeding.

Yes, its a leash that you cannot unclip. No one else can feed him. My diet has to change almost daily. I get no sleep. My boobs hurt like you wouldnt believe. I never know what I have covering me at a given moment (milk? pee? drool? Who can tell?). And nursing in public (ALWAYS COVERED thank you) is a challenge.

Despite it all I do love it. And though I would never judge anyone for doing something different then I do, I would love to encourage people who want to try. I was sure that we were going to have extreme problems - I have a few bottles of formula in the pantry ... thats how sure I was that we were going to have to supplement or FF altogether. And I refused to feel bad about it if it came to that.

The first few days were hard. He had a good latch but I wasnt producing much colostrum. He cried - a lot. He also lost a LOT of his birth weight (from 9.1 to 8.4). But thanks to my awesome midwives who assured me that not only was it okay but it was normal. I charted his wet/dirty diapers and they were always on point. His skin looked good (NO jaundice at ALL - which was amazing news after the scare we got with the RH sensitivity - suspected), and he was healthy. So even though I cried all the way home about failing him I kept with it. I put him on the boob every hour on the hour. I was exhausted and sure that I was going to have to break at any minute and stop trying.

But then by night 3 my milk came in. And he was happier - and slept better (besides when I needed to not eat so much dairy). And by my 1 week appointment he was back up to 8.14 and my midwives assured me he was getting what he needed. And I felt pretty accomplished.

I dont say this to make anyone feel bad. I know FF vs BF is a hot debate - and I know a lot of people who gave it their all and they couldnt BF. But its okay - those same people have the most beautiful and healthy children Ive ever seen. I only tell the story so that people who may want to try BF’ing know that there are success stories.

Making my kids picture my Facebook profile picture: I did it. Suck it.

Feeling like a fatty already: When youre pregnant and youre fat you can say “Im pregnant. So Im fat”. Then you drop the baby and must confront the fact that those extra cookies stuck around afterwards. I stay about 20 pounds above the “ideal” weight as it is (and I dont feel bad about it - stick thin works for some of you but Im mexican and Im always going to have big boobs and a little extra - no complaints from the husband so Im good with it) but Ive got a ways to go to get back to my pre-preg weight.

EDIT: Its taken me 2 weeks to do this blog post ... well almost. The last thing that makes me a hypocrite is that I swore I would never want another baby. But I already do.


There you go.

5 days old!

This kid is freaking awesome. He gives me the side eye a lot because he knows Im a total asshole who has no idea what shes doing. So he sort of tolerates me while seeking out the nearest exit.

PS- anyone who doubts natural birth is silly. 5 days PP and I feel like nothing ever happened.

Finally - a birth story!

First let me start off by saying that (although its only been just over 24 hours so the crazy is probably on its way) I feel like a new person right now. My placenta was apparently sent from an evil place and now that its gone Im back to feeling more human.

On Thursday September 22 I got up around 430 when Allen was getting ready to leave for work. I had been having the on and off contractions, just enough to really be aggravating without anything actually happening. I used the restroom, got a drink and went to lie back down in bed.

Right before I fell back asleep I felt a thud “down there” and heard something pop. My actual response was to say (out loud) “what the fuck was that?”. I knew from being on the birth month boards that it was likely my water breaking but I didnt feel the gush of fluid that should accompany it. So I went to the restroom to check it out. There was a trickle of water but nothing that would suggest the big blow out I heard your water is supposed to be.

I paced around a little bit and checked my bottoms - there was more water in there but again, not anything that would suggest I had just broken an entire bag. I used the restroom and some water and blood came out so I decided that it was likely go time.

I called my midwife first and explained it to her. She told me to put in a pad and wait an hour to be sure that it was the real thing - mostly because my contractions were so light I could barely feel them and they werent timeable. Still I decided to call Allen since we were on a clock if it was my water anyhow. All the guys in his office have been waiting for the call for awhile now so they got him out of there with a quickness.

I sat down on the edge of the bed and just as I was thinking maybe Im a total asshole and I just pissed myself about a quart of water expelled itself from my nether regions (thankfully onto a towel I had been sitting on). Thats when I said “holy shit were having a baby” .... something youd think I would have had 10 months to come to terms with yes? But, Im a slow learner.

So I call back my MW and she tells me to take my time (since contrax arent strong) and come in soonish. She also said that I was number 4 in the last 24 hours so when I arrived at the birth center wed have to play some juggling games since every room was full (our luck!).

We got all our stuff together, Allen made me breakfast and packed up the car while I showered. I also leaked fluid everywhere I went - apparently its not just water breaking and then it stops. What really happens is that you trail it everywhere you go and you want to cry because everytime you get the slightest contraction you put fluid everywhere. We drove to the birth center and as I tried to get out of the car to the door I literally lost it everywhere - stood on the sidewalk with water pouring down my legs onto the sidewalk. Im sure I was a happy sight.

We got settled into a room after we confirmed water had broke (obviously). Baby looked great on the monitors but contractions were pretty much non existent. She went ahead and did one internal (they wanted to do as few as possible since my water had broke) and suprise! I was between 4 and 5 cm - without really ever feeling it (which would come back to bite me in the ass).

As the day went on baby sounded great but contractions just wouldnt pick up. We walked for an hour, I rested, we ate. Nothing was picking up and I started to get worried - I knew we were on another clock to get the baby out before the membranes were ruptured too long (usually about 24 hours).

At around 3 pm when still nothing was happening  my midwife decided to start some natural induction methods. This consisted of a castor oil/enema/RRL tea routine - two times over the course of two hours. It was pretty much as shitty (literally) as it sounds, and so uncomfortable. But it sure worked and by 6 pm I was starting to pick up in contractions considerably.

The entire pregnancy Ive complained of hip pain but it took me by surprise when I felt ALL the contractions in my hips. They tried to rub out the muscle spasms but they were so intense there was no helping it. Thankfully one of the birthing rooms cleared out just as it started to get really bad and we were able to get in to use the shower on my back which helped a bit.

About 7 - 7:30 is when I hit transition. It was just as terrible as anyone could ever explain it to be. I was able to get into the tub and it slightly helped but the contractions were coming so strong and so close together that I hit my wall (or my “Ricki Lake” moment as they say). It was so intense that she decided to check me to see how I had progressed and I was only at a 7 :( I didnt even have time to get upset because the wall of contractions felt like they would never end. This is the part where I was a less than ideal natural birth patient. I was screaming, telling them all I couldnt do it, and crying that I just wanted to rest. The whole thing is a bit fuzzy but I remember looking at Allen’s eyes and just saying “Im so tired - please let me rest. Make it go away to just rest for a minute”.

Allen rose to the occasion and then some. He did whatever I needed and I could genuinely see that if he could take it away from me he would. A few times he prayed out loud to ask God to give him whatever I couldnt handle, and that this pass soon. He was just awesome - better than I could have ever asked for or expected. I have a new love for him as a person and as my husband.

About 10-1030 I hit my wall. I was so tired (had been up since 530) and I just wanted a break. My MW had something to relax me (um - nothing illegal ...) and she assured me that it was safe, natural and would not go to my baby. They didnt take the pain away (and I remember her saying she cant take the pain away because thats whats bringing my baby to me) but they did help me catch a second of sleep between contractions which I needed for the next part.

It wasnt long after that I remember screaming it was time to push. Sure enough my MW ran in and said to “go ahead - all you needed was the rest!”. Unfortunately my body and I just werent working together. I tried to push a few times and I just wasnt working with myself to figure out HOW to do it. I was screaming that I couldnt, I was too tired. My MW really took control and told me that it was fine, I didnt have to, and theyd be back when I could (she just went outside the door). Apparently she told Allen “stop telling her what to do - if youve ever seen a runner hit a wall, thats what this is. She has to pick herself up and find what it takes or else this isnt going to go the way she wants”. And she was right.

I flipped to my side and gave it all I had with the next contraction - and thats when I know it was coming. I felt the “ring of fire” (man did I ever) but my MW told me that I had to slow down and push deliberately because we had a big head - if I were to just bear down and shoot him out then we would have a horrible tear on our hands.

I have no idea where I summoned the energy, but I pushed slow just like she said. I only pushed for ten minutes and the baby was out! He was big and healthy - he didnt scream but he also wasnt totally quiet.

The rest is sort of a blur - we waited for the cord to stop pulsing so I had him on my stomach for a bit. We were able to see him and talk to him and get him to latch a bit (which I swear by --- the kid now has an awesome latch). Once the cord had been cut the MW and Allen took him to the weigh room while the nurse helped me to the bathroom. As I was on the toilet they came back in. Allen said “GUESS HOW MUCH?”. I said “7.14?”.

“Higher”

“8.4?”

“HIGHER!”

I told him to just damn tell me. Our “little baby” was 9 pounds 1 ounce!!!

After that it was about 1 am and we both just wanted to sleep. I took the baby on my chest, the MW’s went to rest in their office rooms and we got some rest. John woke up quite a few times but the MW’s were there every time to help me get him latched on and to make sure his vitals looked good.

We woke up about 6 am and Allen got breakfast for the whole crew. We ate, did baby’s physical and mine and then we got to go home!

Our first night was great - daddy is on duty for food and everything else. John didnt sleep much but hes such a good baby that it doesnt matter much. He gets up, he latches and goes back to sleep. Im still on “bedrest” and really sore but loving every second of the entire thing.

So there it is - there was a lot more disgusting shit in the middle of it but I tried to be as PC as I know how to be (which is a challenge as we all know). Its football Saturday, John is going to wear his Gator gear and mommy is going to have a damn beer (its good for milk production you know!).

7 Days

I should start calling this “diary of a birth center hopeful”.

Got what can only be described as a “fisting” yesterday. My first internal exam was pretty routine (in fact I think I even texted a friend saying “I must have a very strong vagina, I didnt feel a damn thing"). I cant say the same of exam number two.

We did the NST which was slightly boring and John hated it. Never measured above a 25 (because my uterus is a girly man). I wanted to kick Allens ass because he treated it EXACTLY how I knew he would and wanted to see everything, and spin the dials, and touch the monitors. I finally told him to sit the fuck down and he pouted. Thank God we both get over things quickly (but, can I put this under reasons why I DONT want to go to the hospital? Because he is like a toddler and cannot possibly go without touching things). Then we did the BPP - seems like there is a decent amount of fluid there right now, but she did say I have an “old placenta”. I guess this is what you get when you’re pregnant - lots of insults on things you never thought anyone could insult. Like placentas.

So she did the internal after I had basically been laying down for 2 hours and his head was further up then it had been last time (I guess, either that or she fucking sucks at this - it wasnt my normal MW because we were doing the special testing). She has me put both fists under my butt and she proceeds to shove her entire arm up the birth canal. Allen was standing by my head and the only thing that took away most of the pain was seeing the look of sheer horror on his face. It was probably like a porn gone totally wrong to him. Needless to say he was super gentle and loving all night last night. And Im still bleeding. I think refusing internals is the way to go - who cares that Im between a 2 and a 3? Doesnt mean shit because Im *still* not in labor. Internals are the path to hell and false hopes.

So we are at 7 days now. I wish there was some way to make this kid understand exactly what they do to him in the hospital - maybe hed like to vacate the premises immediately. If only he knew.

Also if Allen calls me one more time to say “so ... whatcha doin ....” Im going to skin him alive. Because he of all people is going to know when I give birth. Today he called me to “make sure you’re sitting up so his head is against your cervix”.

You know what I never want to talk about again? My cervix.

BPP

As of today we start going in for our every 48 hour appointments.

Allen doesnt mind as he runs his guys through PT, sets up the day and comes home (hello, wonderful unit that is so family friendly that the BN Commanders wife calls me to check on me .... so different ...). Then we trek to Savannah and go see Jr on the big screen to make sure that all his electric/plumbing/water is still turned on.

Today Im going to spend yelling back at the screen. I love you kid but Ive had it. Yes, I know youll come when youre ready but mommy’s hips are breaking and I havent slept for more than 2 hours at a time since ..... 34 weeks? Not that itll change with a baby, but possibly there will be an end in sight.

Countdown is t-8 days until well have to party down at the hospital. God help them if they are intervention happy because Allen is in full on daddy bear mode (good man) and will shank them in their eyeballs if they try to pull anything crazy. Hes been well educated on timelines, why we dont break water artificially until the last second, why we dont want pitocin, or a c section, and why baby doesnt get removed from our sight - and Lord really help them if they put in the eye drops or try to take this kid to get circ’d.

John, please come out at the birth center. Its really going to be a lot less painful for you at the end.

The waiting game ...

I can handle it. Its the people surrounding me that I fear for.

Honestly its not that bad. Its not like my due date coming put some sort of launch code into sequence. Although my suggestion for modern medicine (besides figuring out how to grow babies like sea monkeys - and only on purpose for people who want one/arent on crack) is to figure out exactly when the baby is going to “flip the switch” (as my midwife likes to put it) and rocket down the birth canal. That would be awfully handy, to be able to say “well, looks like John Douglas will be here a week from tomorrow. We just got his room confirmation”.

Trying to make the most of the time still. Yesterday we took a trip to Savannah, had dinner at the Macaroni Grill and enjoyed sleeping almost 12 hours. This morning took a breakfast trip to Dunkin Donuts and watched football/napped most of the day. Tomorrow Im going to Savannah again with the girls to do a little shopping (and walking, which they say helps. But they are full of shit so fuck ‘em). I figure there will be a time, and that time will be soon, when I just stay home rather than lug around a baby and all his accessories. Plus Ive snuggled with the puppies a lot since I fear they will feel neglected soon.

In bad news I can literally see the clock ticking down on our natural birth center birth. Trying not to stress as my MW told me that most women never make it to their hospital date once its set, and instead go into labor at the 11th hour. As of tomorrow we have 11 days to make it happen. I know they say worrying will just stop labor, but tell me how not to think about it at all and Ill give you a cookie. A “milk maker” cookie at that.

Tuesday we go in for the first (of many if we go the whole two weeks) NST’s and BPP’s. She also said that shell start some “natural” induction methods. Dont worry, I asked if that meant having sex with a random - it doesnt.

So, in true “my baby” fashion, hes late as hell. I do it all the time so I cant really be mad at him for it can I?

I need a sign on my forehead ....

That says “no baby yet”.

Im way more zen than I have any right to be at this moment. Hell be here in 2 weeks no matter what so for now Im kicking back and enjoying the last of the days where we can lay around, eat in bed, stay up until all hours of the night (because we want to, not because we have to) and we can go on date nights (which we are going on our “final” one tomorrow).

John Douglas I certainly prefer you come before our 2 week window is up (as weve planned for this birth center birth and it would really eff it all up) but you are my baby. So the odds of you being late to the party are very very good. Its okay - I love you anyway.

Theres a lot more in the mix right now that I cant write about and it pisses me off. Suffice to say the winds of change are rustling around but its anyones guess how that will play out. Stay tuned :)

If I had to do it over again:

I wouldnt tell anyone my due date.

Im here in hormonal tears because I feel like Im letting EVERYONE down right now. I want this baby to come when hes ready - but I feel like its not happening soon enough.

I dont want to complain about the calls/texts/emails because they are from people who are excited and who want to meet our son. There is nothing wrong with that. But there are a select few who call EVERY SINGLE DAY, sometimes twice, to ask the same question “are you in labor”? Doesnt matter how many times I say I SWEAR I WILL CALL YOU WHEN IT HAPPENS. It doesnt matter when I say PLEASE DONT CALL ME EVERY DAY THIS IS HARD ENOUGH. They dont listen. And its always family so you cant decide to unfriend them and call it a day.

Im generally pretty peaceful about things, with a touch of anxiety mixed in. Im okay with letting little man stay in there for another few weeks because A) A normal pregnancy can go anywhere from 38-42 weeks. There is no reason to induce before that time frame unless MEDICALLY necessary and B) Induction terrifies me. Just look at the statistics for induction before your body is ready - its not good and it leads to too many C-sections. Not to mention babies who come out before “their time” have a higher risk of problems. So, I dont judge anyone who gets induced because there are a ton of reasons to do it (and believe me, sometimes I just want to go to L&D and tell them to get this fucking kid out of me) but I am holding on until the last second trying to go with what weve wanted to do all along - a natural birth when the baby is ready to be born.

My anxiety comes because I cant use the BC after 42 weeks - they assume that Ill need extra monitoring and the possibility of a big baby is greater. I guess I dont mind being at the hospital as long as I can figure out how to make sure they respect our wishes about the things we dont want done. If I have to get a c section Ill just cry. Its my worst fear. That and Pitocin. I dont want that either.

So as we round out to the 40 week mark I will spend the next 2 weeks praying that John decides hed like to join us. Also Ill be shutting off my phone. My hormones are too high for this.

Nope

My uterus is crowding my brain too much for me to come up with the words to express things today.

So I think just saying that 10 years ago, in one day, I saw the absolute worst of human kind.

And in the weeks following, in the unity of a country, I also saw the best.

Above all, no matter what, I still believe that people are inherently good.

Pregnancy Brain

In addition to the below story Ive also been calling myself “narcoleptic” all day when what I MEANT was NOCTURNAL. Allens silence makes way more sense now, as does his text back of “well, be careful when you’re cooking”.

Although turns out, this was a warning I SHOULD have heeded, since my brain refuses to fire on all four cylinders as of late.

1) Going to make mac and cheese for dinner. Allen is at CQ (rounding up barracks buffalo apparently, but thats another story) so what better time then to enjoy Kraft’s finest (which baby John LOVES. The kid has taste).

2) Pour noodles in water. Turn on burner. Stare for a moment at the burner diagram because for some reason it seems confusing. Am smarter than connect four-esque diagram, turn on high.

3) Go back to Facebook. IS MY JOB.

4) Smell something burning. Figure that the stove sucks and Im not getting up because the stove wants to smell funny. Not my problem.

5) Burning smell is worse.

6) Bit of smoke. Should probably investigate.

7) Bread crumb container left on stove from last nights delicious pork chop dinner smoking like a genie is about to come out of it. Mostly because, even after careful scrutiny, I still turned on the wrong fucking burner. The heat was on, literally.

8) Grab container to throw in sink. Dumb people grab hot smoking items with their bare hands. Smart people know that if it is smoking, it is likely hot, which is likely painful. Guess what category I fall into?

9) Open all the doors to let the smoke leave. Sit back down in the chair to Facebook.

10) Neighbors husband appears at the open door to make sure were okay (apparently when you have a 9 month pregnant neighbor who has smoke pouring out of her open doors and no husband at home a good person comes to ensure things are okay). I CERTAINLY cement his opinion of me as an asshole when I look up at him, smile like a total fucktard and say “hi! I almost burned the house down! No worries!”. Then I got up to find the dogs. His response was somewhere along the lines of “erm .... great ... just wanted to .... uh ... check ....”. And he left.

11) Also my boobs cannot be caged no matter what lately so they were probably waving at him VERY offensively. I dont really know how you go about apologizing for something like that (Dear neighbor, thanks for trying to save me from a fire, sorry my breasts were so obscene).

12) Text Allen “Almost burned house down. This is NOT A JOKE”.

13) He seems so NOT surprised that Im almost disappointed. He simply asked me to stick with the microwave from now on.

14) Well see how he feels about that tomorrow night when dinner is due.

Things that dont work to expand your birth canal.

Pineapple - a myth started sometime in 1965 by the Dole corporation. I have learned how to cut an entire pineapple (after I learned how to tell that its ripe), Ive learned how pineapple must have a lot of natural fiber, Ive solely kept Dole and Del Monte in business. But I do not have a baby.

Sex - Some man thought that was a good idea. Dont listen to science - its wrong. Just refuse intercourse and say something about your mucus plug. That will send him back to the XBOX post haste.

Walking - You should probably walk anyways. God knows I need to, with my fat ass. But it will not convince the baby to come. It will make your feet swell. Especially if youre walking in the south where its still hot as satans asshole.

Basil and Oregano - We had spaghetti four nights in a row with so much of both spices that it made us both want to throw up. Not only did I not get any contractions but I about died from the heartburn caused by tomato sauce.

Begging - Babies are very unreasonable. They do not wish to negotiate.

Everyone asking you every three seconds if youve had that baby yet - No, but feel free to visit my website to keep you updated! Have I had that baby yet?

Im one month away from having to call Dr. Phil to come cut me out of the house because I cant make it through the door. I hope that John takes mercy on me and shows up before that happens. 

Its been almost 5 months ..

Since I left work.

I miss working.

I feel like Im in this tragic baby limbo right now. When we first got here at least I had the rush of getting things ready to distract me. Now that were all set up I just really want to do SOMETHING with my brain. Go somewhere intellectual. Of course being in the pit of South Georgia doesnt help - as much as I hate to say it I do miss Washington in that regard. People were semi intelligent. While I love the laid back attitude of the south it certainly isnt the epicenter of “edumacation”.

Ive emailed my old boss to see if she had anything for me to work on. Allen is some work but even between him and housecleaning it doesnt take up all day. Maybe Im doing it wrong.

Things I dont ever want to hear again

1) “Have you had that baby yet?” (in person): This has to be the stupidest comment Ive ever heard. Because you are looking RIGHT AT ME. With a big belly. So the answer is no I havent ...  although I would think that would be implied. Because if I HAD the baby I probably would not be this pregnant again right now. Thats just what I know from my limited schooling on the matter.

2) Following that up with “Because you are so big! You cant possibly carry anymore! ZMOG!” makes you not only an idiot but an asshole.

3) “Are you dilated”?: This is only acceptable from 3 people - my mother, my best friend and my husband. If you are, say, the cashier at my local Food Lion (TRUE STORY) then please refrain from asking how wide my birth canal is at the present time. Not okay.

4) “Rest while you can!”: This is the least annoying, because even I say it to myself. In theory it sounds perfect ... rest now before there is a screaming piglet who demands all of your time, energy and sanity. But in reality between the raging heartburn, the fake contractions (that hurt but dont do anything), and other assorted ailments, the last thing Im actually able to do is sleep. Mostly I just pace through the house with a mean look on my face. If my house were a dark alley I would be a “suspicious person”.

5) “He’ll come when hes ready!”: Thats also great if you arent a selfish bitch like I am. I dont want to wait until he’s ready. I’m telling him that IM ready. Arent I the mom? Dont I get to make the rules? This isnt how I saw this panning out.

6) “You should just be grateful”: Yes. I am grateful. Thats why I have changed my entire life to better cater to my new child and my family. But when I stub my toe, and I say that it hurts, that doesnt mean that Im not grateful to be alive. When youre being waterboarded its okay to look forward to the day when you can NOT be anymore.

7) Any variation of “youre so big”, “are you having twins”, “you have to set the record for being the most pregnant that anyone has ever been ever”: Any and all of these comments will guarantee you a side eye and poor Allen having to listen to another diatribe from his wife about how people suck. Dont let this be you - educate.

I love this shit

I used to drink shots of tequila.

Now I drink shots of Maalox.

But I love Maalox. Its the only thing that prevents me from throwing up due to heartburn. Its like AC for my mouth.

Maybe I wouldnt need it so badly if John wasnt 1/4 Mexican and wanted spicy food all the time.

Spicy food - Maalox - repeat.

Pregnancy things your momma isnt telling you: Part 3

Im here to be your safe alternative to those people (and we all know one) who have pregnancies that are totally amazing, and they love it, and they dance through fields in white dresses while shitting unicorns and glitter.

That gig is awesome if you can get it, but the truth is most of us are fat, tired and miserable for about 9 months (longer if your kid is destined to be one of those that lives in the basement until hes 40, therefore surely not coming out of the womb in a timely fashion).

So I have it on good source (aka my birth month board - but, also from my midwife) that Evening Primrose Oil is a good way to thin your cervix as you approach that time. It doesnt induce labor, but taken in the weeks prior its said to be very helpful in an easier thinning/effacement process.

My MW said to take it orally, but lots of the girls take it vaginally (Im just going to go ahead and use medical terminology here, instead of hoo-hoo or whatever).

I bought the bottle of pills, and of course proceed to take a sniff (listen, if its going up in there Id like to know what I can expect). It turns out that the capsules actually smell like hot funky death, so I determined that was a no go for launch. Im already fat, I havent seen my feet in forever, and its a bazillion degrees so I sweat a lot. Throwing a stink bomb up my birth canal isnt exactly going to increase my stock (and, Im going to need to have sex for the next step in desperate labor induction ....).

But tonight I figured, what the hell? Other people are doing it (see Board, Birth Month), it cant hurt anything, and Id REALLY like to see my cervix get on its shit so I can have a beer. I put two capsules “up in there” before I went to bed. I had my doubts about their staying power, but apparently my vag is like a venus fly trap for cervical thinning oils.

I am now up at 3 am, thanks to the cricket of death (which is a whole other post, thank you), but I can tell you this - should you decide to put EPO up your hallway, realize this: you ARE going to wake up thinking your water has broken.

Apparently its a law of gravity that what goes UP must come DOWN and oil up your vagina is no different. Im just glad I thought that through before I woke Allen up shrieking again (as previously seen during my first midnight calf cramp, and when I pulled a neck muscle in my sleep). I think hes been through enough.