It's pretty clear that I'm a mom by the food on my shirts and the way I say things like, "I've got to tinkle," in front of normal grown up people. It's also pretty clear that I'm a professional by the way I look completely exhausted, am perceived as a bitch if I'm not sugar-pink happy pants and by the way I say things like, "let's not pull that lizards legs off because it is an autonomous living being," to small children at the age of two. Of course there is my other role of wife. I'm not sure what makes it clear that I'm a wife other than my suburb living and the ring on my finger and, you know, that guy who is always hanging around. That's three hats. big ones. I am not even gonna break down all the little hats. Moreover I absolutely KNOW that I am one of about a zillion ladies who has those three big hats and a zillion little ones. There is this other big hat too. I feel like I could drown in it sometimes. And I hate it. I have tried to donate it, sell it, throw it away, make a trade and hide it under the bed and even cut it in half and share it with my husband. I did not buy this hat or approve when it insinuated itself into my life with it's tacky, outdated ways. and yet. The housewife hat always finds it's way onto my head.I am currently typing, staring at 7 baskets of laundry in various states of folding, all sorted according to human, dog or other. This is never-ending. On the floor is a partially re-boxed board game, and three blankets which I have folded approximately 8 zillion times in the last two days. They are currently in a heap because my child thinks all blankets should be picnic blankets. I know a dishwasher full of clean dishes and a sink full of dirty dishes awaits me in the kitchen. and there is a coffee table littered with bills, remotes, random parts of toys, and half crayons spreading out in front of my eyes. This is the detritus of my daily life and it's a bit of an albatross. I BEG for help with these things. For some unfathomable reason, my darling husband, whom I do not want to kill, even when he states that my cleaning methods are the problem, (whilst he plays a video game after watching two movies-hey, he did put food into a crockpot today so, done!) doesn't understand why this mess brings me intense daily anxiety and why I cannot clean it his way. (His way is not doing laundry on a daily basis and folding an entire basket and putting it away before starting another.) My brother says that coming into my home stresses him out and that I don;t make enough time to clean. I berate myself for not doing it all. but really--HOW!? How can I do all of this? I have thought many times, and attempted a few, "If I just don't sleep tonight I can get it finished. It'll be fun, like a college all nighter." I always backslide though. I have this idea in my head that only lazy and unclean people live in this kind of mess. So now I identify myself as lazy and unclean. I hate this hat. What I worry about more than anything else is how this affects my kids though. Are they going to share this anxiety, become irresponsible (as I see myself)? Or will they adopt this maniacal idea of perfection and expect the unachievable and unreasonable of themselves if I somehow destroy what little sleep and energy I have left to get it done? I have no idea. But I guess that I am going to go and put away that stupid single basket of laundry so that I can clean the "right" way.
Thursday, March 26, 2015
Thursday, February 28, 2013
I say a little prayer for you
When my daughter was born, I never even considered fact of her soul. It simply, clearly was. And when I meet people everyday, I automatically acknowledge this part of them. like saying hello. After years...mostly my entire life... of not truly considering it...in fact, avoiding the consideration all together, here I am. I lost a baby. well this 9week,2day old fetus is not really lost. I know exactly where it is. In me. Tomorrow, after waiting for the little life sprout to depart 4 weeks after he was not so lively...someone will escort him out of the building. My OB is a bouncer with sedative and something probably scrapey. yuck. Now, I am tossing and turning while I await our fates wondering, "Was that soul formed yet?" I mean, you get the emails about week the neural tube is closing and when the eyelids show up...no soul email. poor Catholics...that's a lot of pressure those guys put on themselves. So in a weird way I hope that part wasn't there yet,so less is lost...just tissue. But if it was there, I hope it went someplace really incredible. I suppose all I can do is say a little prayer to whatever is out there and hope that something? someone? hears it.
Thursday, August 30, 2012
Gonna Wash that man right outa my hair....or not. because I like that man...so instead, how about I don't wash at all? .I have done it. I have gone shampoo free. I am 6 days in and it is a greasy situation. strike that. it isn't greasy at all. It's actually more, um...waxy? Yes, I think waxy is much more accurate. So far, the results have not been so stunning, but I come from a long line of women with hair that thins early and I'd like to take care of what I've got. so. there it is. I am a hippie.
I DO clean my hair. Hot water, lots of brushing and combing and baking soda. We shall see what happens.
I DO clean my hair. Hot water, lots of brushing and combing and baking soda. We shall see what happens.
Sunday, August 7, 2011
My milkshake brings all the boys to the yard
Well, actually, it just makes the kids stare when I am breastfeeding, but you know what I mean. .
When you decide to have a kiddo, and then you decide how the food delivery is going to work, there are some things that nobody tells you. The Nugget and I were super duper lucky to give birth in a very pro-breastfeeding hospital that helped us avoid supplementation from day one. Even with that, there were hurdles at home. If we hadn't had the support postpartum and a lot of encouragement from pro breastfeeding family and friends, I don't know how far we would have gotten. We were just very lucky.
Stuff we now know:
1) Buy some nursing bras and sleep nursing bras before you go into labor. Do not buy the medela nursing bra. It sucks and is not at all supportive. Buy the Bravado Bliss and your boobs will thank you. They don't pay me to say that. it is just plain true.
2) Lily Padz...they are amazing, but be warned if you are in a heat wave. the little drops that leak out that get held in by the lily padz will go sour. quickly. grody.
3) Get the off brand lanolin from the pharmacy. A little goes a very long way.
4) Go ahead and use the pacifier. Your nipples will thank you.
5) Fill a sock with rice, microwave it for 30 seconds and use it to warm your engorged boobs before a feeding.
6) Never go anywhere without a shirt to change into, and something to soak up the excess.
7) covering up while she is latching and eating is a lot harder than it seems it should or would be. I have to dive under there with her and then she quickly gets super hot which is no bueno. No matter how cavalier you expect to be about breastfeeding in public, the social pressure to hide even with the cover in place, is pretty intense. Good thing you lose almost all sense of modesty the first three days.
I still haven't figured out how I will even have enough of a stockpile built up to send The Nugget to day care in 8 weeks. I am hoping I figure that out very soooon.
When you decide to have a kiddo, and then you decide how the food delivery is going to work, there are some things that nobody tells you. The Nugget and I were super duper lucky to give birth in a very pro-breastfeeding hospital that helped us avoid supplementation from day one. Even with that, there were hurdles at home. If we hadn't had the support postpartum and a lot of encouragement from pro breastfeeding family and friends, I don't know how far we would have gotten. We were just very lucky.
Stuff we now know:
1) Buy some nursing bras and sleep nursing bras before you go into labor. Do not buy the medela nursing bra. It sucks and is not at all supportive. Buy the Bravado Bliss and your boobs will thank you. They don't pay me to say that. it is just plain true.
2) Lily Padz...they are amazing, but be warned if you are in a heat wave. the little drops that leak out that get held in by the lily padz will go sour. quickly. grody.
3) Get the off brand lanolin from the pharmacy. A little goes a very long way.
4) Go ahead and use the pacifier. Your nipples will thank you.
5) Fill a sock with rice, microwave it for 30 seconds and use it to warm your engorged boobs before a feeding.
6) Never go anywhere without a shirt to change into, and something to soak up the excess.
7) covering up while she is latching and eating is a lot harder than it seems it should or would be. I have to dive under there with her and then she quickly gets super hot which is no bueno. No matter how cavalier you expect to be about breastfeeding in public, the social pressure to hide even with the cover in place, is pretty intense. Good thing you lose almost all sense of modesty the first three days.
I still haven't figured out how I will even have enough of a stockpile built up to send The Nugget to day care in 8 weeks. I am hoping I figure that out very soooon.
Baby, Baby I love you
and it's a good thing too, because you never let me sleep. Shortly after my last post, my water broke and I was induced. a whirlwind 15 hours later marked by a bad encounter with Ambien (hallucinations, anyone?) and and halvsie epidural complete with oxygen mask so I didn't stop breathing, they totally handed me a baby. My baby. And we started the journey that has been the last month. Breastfeeding, Not Sleeping, Not Cleaning, Accepting all Help that is Offered, Not Sleeping, Bouncing, Cooing, Shushing, Not Sleeping, Crying, Laughing and Not Sleeping. Things I have learned:
1) A woman's body has limitless potential to do all sorts of things that it never did before having a baby.
We are hardwired to know our child's cry and respond with a single minded NEED to make that cry stop no matter what. We can Stretch without breaking. And if we break, it can be fixed and we can survive it. We are also built with a need to protect that verges on sheer panic. ( Some of us were afraid to put our baby down in the bassinet for three days after arriving home because something might happen to her if we let go. At the time, that was a super rational thought)
2) Breastfeeding. it hurts and it is hard and then, all of a sudden, it is not hard anymore. For the first two weeks, I cried every time fed my daughter and I was convinced I was doing it wrong. Every book you read says it doesn't hurt. They lie. It freaking hurts. Then, one day, you have the hang of it, you stop crying, and it is ok. Now, it is still a little cumbersome when you leave the house because you never really know when the babe will want to eat. You pretty much have to be cool with whipping your boobs out anywhere.
3) It is incredible how little sleep you really need to survive. You really only need naps. You won't be pretty, you won't be clean, you won't be completely rational, but you will live.
4) You know why people have babies in hospitals? So they don't DIE. I actually considered a home birth very seriously. Good thing I didn't do that. I am very glad that we were in a hospital now, though I can safely say I DO NOT recommend voluntary induction or epidural. I was induced out of medical necessity and I was pressured into an epidural after 12 hours of active labor with no sleep. The epidural went very badly and I am still a little traumatized. Hospital? yes. Epidural? no thank you.
5) When someone offers you help, you should really really take it. Your friend of a friend wants to clean you kitchen? say yes. Your mother in law wants to wash your underwear and scour your shower? The answer is Yes. Your neighbor wants to mow your lawn? (this is wishful thinking on my part ) Yes, please.
6) No matter how tired, hungry, thirsty, angry, sore, sad, wild-eyed you are, seeing your little nugget open their eyes after a nap and look at you is worth every nit of it every time. I would totally do this again in spite of the difficulties. And I still have a fairly good recollection of the pain part.
So now. I know a lot more, but still I feel like I don't know a thing and we are a family of 4. The Little Man, The Nugget, Daddy and I are all working it out and couldn't be happier.
1) A woman's body has limitless potential to do all sorts of things that it never did before having a baby.
We are hardwired to know our child's cry and respond with a single minded NEED to make that cry stop no matter what. We can Stretch without breaking. And if we break, it can be fixed and we can survive it. We are also built with a need to protect that verges on sheer panic. ( Some of us were afraid to put our baby down in the bassinet for three days after arriving home because something might happen to her if we let go. At the time, that was a super rational thought)
2) Breastfeeding. it hurts and it is hard and then, all of a sudden, it is not hard anymore. For the first two weeks, I cried every time fed my daughter and I was convinced I was doing it wrong. Every book you read says it doesn't hurt. They lie. It freaking hurts. Then, one day, you have the hang of it, you stop crying, and it is ok. Now, it is still a little cumbersome when you leave the house because you never really know when the babe will want to eat. You pretty much have to be cool with whipping your boobs out anywhere.
3) It is incredible how little sleep you really need to survive. You really only need naps. You won't be pretty, you won't be clean, you won't be completely rational, but you will live.
4) You know why people have babies in hospitals? So they don't DIE. I actually considered a home birth very seriously. Good thing I didn't do that. I am very glad that we were in a hospital now, though I can safely say I DO NOT recommend voluntary induction or epidural. I was induced out of medical necessity and I was pressured into an epidural after 12 hours of active labor with no sleep. The epidural went very badly and I am still a little traumatized. Hospital? yes. Epidural? no thank you.
5) When someone offers you help, you should really really take it. Your friend of a friend wants to clean you kitchen? say yes. Your mother in law wants to wash your underwear and scour your shower? The answer is Yes. Your neighbor wants to mow your lawn? (this is wishful thinking on my part ) Yes, please.
6) No matter how tired, hungry, thirsty, angry, sore, sad, wild-eyed you are, seeing your little nugget open their eyes after a nap and look at you is worth every nit of it every time. I would totally do this again in spite of the difficulties. And I still have a fairly good recollection of the pain part.
So now. I know a lot more, but still I feel like I don't know a thing and we are a family of 4. The Little Man, The Nugget, Daddy and I are all working it out and couldn't be happier.
Saturday, July 2, 2011
Kick off your Sunday shoes....
...because your feet are too swollen to wear them.
We are on the countdown for sure. and now, the swelling begins. I know this means I should sit down and rest, but all I want to do is clean like mad between lots and lots of naps. I suddenly feel that nothing is as prepared as it should be and there is no way to get all of this done. Since there is no way to get it all done. I tried to sleep and forget about it. Not so much. That just makes me a cleaning zombie. a onesie folding, laundry doing, bag packing and repacking zombie.
We are on the countdown for sure. and now, the swelling begins. I know this means I should sit down and rest, but all I want to do is clean like mad between lots and lots of naps. I suddenly feel that nothing is as prepared as it should be and there is no way to get all of this done. Since there is no way to get it all done. I tried to sleep and forget about it. Not so much. That just makes me a cleaning zombie. a onesie folding, laundry doing, bag packing and repacking zombie.
Saturday, April 23, 2011
Baby I've been waiting, I've been waiting night and day
I am currently locked in a battle of wills. With an almost 5 year old. My husband and I sit staring across at him as he chews at a truly glacial pace....because at this point in the vegetable portion of his meal...his back hurts, his teeth hurt, his tummy hurts, he has to potty (we let him have that one and marched him straight back to the table).
side note: This meal has been going on for over 2 hours before you start judging the computer that now sits in front of me.
We have explained that, no, he is not an 80 year old with bad teeth,. Nor is he in his 40s with a bad back. He is 5 and he will be finishing his carrots and celery. It's not even gross vegetables. It's raw carrots and celery for god's sake. What is baffling is that he TRULY truly believes that if he delays or just doesn't want to, then eventually, he will get to have some dessert and be done. How could he have come to this conclusion? That just seems ridiculous to me...and so the battle continues.
I have to say that moments like this are probably the hardest part for the hubs and I in not having the primary custody we so badly would love to have. It's just impossible to not go to the crazy place where you say, Well, if he was here all the time, he'd be more disciplined or he'd understand the rules or yadda yadda yadda.
In the logical part of my brain, I know this probably isn't the truth. kids are kids after all. This emotional part of me constantly wants to reconcile these moments with some parental failing that could not have been ours. It's not fair, I know, but, hey, that's just how it is.
I have a feeling we are in for some serious reality checks when the wee pea arrives. If she is rotten, if she lies, if she won't eat her dinner and has all manner of fictional ailments...there will be no other parents to blame. It will be the two of us who look at each other, shrug our shoulders and then stare at her across the dinner table....waiting.
side note: This meal has been going on for over 2 hours before you start judging the computer that now sits in front of me.
We have explained that, no, he is not an 80 year old with bad teeth,. Nor is he in his 40s with a bad back. He is 5 and he will be finishing his carrots and celery. It's not even gross vegetables. It's raw carrots and celery for god's sake. What is baffling is that he TRULY truly believes that if he delays or just doesn't want to, then eventually, he will get to have some dessert and be done. How could he have come to this conclusion? That just seems ridiculous to me...and so the battle continues.
I have to say that moments like this are probably the hardest part for the hubs and I in not having the primary custody we so badly would love to have. It's just impossible to not go to the crazy place where you say, Well, if he was here all the time, he'd be more disciplined or he'd understand the rules or yadda yadda yadda.
In the logical part of my brain, I know this probably isn't the truth. kids are kids after all. This emotional part of me constantly wants to reconcile these moments with some parental failing that could not have been ours. It's not fair, I know, but, hey, that's just how it is.
I have a feeling we are in for some serious reality checks when the wee pea arrives. If she is rotten, if she lies, if she won't eat her dinner and has all manner of fictional ailments...there will be no other parents to blame. It will be the two of us who look at each other, shrug our shoulders and then stare at her across the dinner table....waiting.
Subscribe to:
Comments (Atom)