1.  yesterday, i accidentally opened the car door at the exact moment my daughter charged toward my leg, resulting in a tremendous THWACK with enough force to knock her onto her cute little tushie.  she exploded into a heap of tears.  my heart shattered into a million pieces and i immediately set about flogging myself for my horrific inability to predict the uncontrollable nature of my toddler’s movement.  stupid mom.  

2.  to make matters worse, today  i clearly decided that one bruise wasn’t enough and she needed one on the other side of her forehead to complete the look.  i looked away for one nanosecond and she ran in front of a moving swing at the park.  i turned my head just in time to see another spectacular THWACK and another fall on her adorable tushie.  

3.  i bought her a pair of crocs

4.  shut up.  toddler sized crocs are adorable

5.  only she can’t run really well in them and anything faster than an exuberant trot is a disaster waiting to happen.  she tripped over her own toes and took a magnificent tumble while running in the family room today, narrowly missing a collision with the tv shelf.  i guess the boo-boo gods decided to spare us this time.  

6.  i took her into a wal-mart the other day – without hand sanitizer or a tetanus shot, mind you.  i was swerving the cart like a madwoman, trying to get through the store without contracting any sort of communicable illness.  add the swerving to the bottle of juice she drank in the car on the way there…not good, my friends.  she puked all over her shirt, on the seat of the shopping cart, and made a sizable puddle on the floor.  i just kept on walking.  i’m sure it’s not the first time the floor at wal-mart has been puked on, and i can’t blame the girl…wal-mart makes me want to vomit too.  

7.  while we’re on the topic of bodily functions, i had poop (not my own, thankyouverymuch) on my shirt today for a good five hours before i realized it was there.  i had been to the grocery store, target, the park, and starbucks with a nice smear on the front of my white tee.  i wonder how many people noticed it before i did.  

8.  i didn’t change my shirt immediately upon its discovery.  ‘eh,’ i thought, ‘i’ve been covered in worse.’  motherhood has definitely desensitized me to most of the ick factors in life.  

9.  my daughter woke up in tears at midnight a couple nights ago.  instead of rocking her to sleep quietly and putting her back in her crib, i brought her to bed with me.  “do you want to watch nemo?” i asked.  “meemo, yeah,” she replied.  so we watched a movie in the middle of the night when we really should have been sleeping.  it was awesome.

definitely, maybe

June 22, 2009

oh. emm. gee. tee. tee. see. double. you. tee. eff.

should we, or should we not?  before i got pregnant with avery i knew that i wanted to have a baby.  that whole baby fever thing?  yeah, i had it bad.  i was certain that i wanted to get pregnant.  i was certain that i wanted to become a mother.  there was no question.  i just knew.  

then, there was colic.  there was postpartum depression.  there were sleep issues.  there was anxiety.  there were marital ups and downs.  the adjustment to motherhood and parenthood has been a tough one; much harder than i ever expected it to be.  the certainty that we felt about Number One became the certainty of Only One.  as in no more.  never again.  

but lately, there has been a little murmur of hmmm, just maybe starting to rise, but i’m certainly far from certain.  

people have started to ask, “so, when are you having Number Two?” and my brain yells NEVER AGAIN, and my gut yells NEVER AGAIN, and part of my heart yells NEVER AGAIN.  but then there is just a little piece of me that says hmmm, just maybe.  i’ve spent time three of my friends’ itty bitty babies this week and felt a teeny tiny twinge of nostalgia and yearning, but also a sizable twinge of “oh shit, not yet.”  i can’t figure out which twinge is more frightening. 

recently i’ve been seeing our chosen boy name everywhere.  (yes, we do have names picked even though we haven’t decided if this is a for-sure thing).  it is not a common, garden-variety name so its presence is somewhat curious.  last week i had two baby dreams.  in the first i was folding boy’s clothes.  in the second we had another little girl.  in my dreams i was totally okay with having a second child. if you’re the type to believe in dreams and signs, you’d start to wonder if these little hints mean something more.  my conscious brain is not quite there yet, but i have to wonder if maybe these dreams and signs are my subconscious mind’s way of moving me toward readiness. 

i don’t know what to make of all this.  i honestly don’t know if i’m strong enough to make it through the first year again.  i don’t think i can handle another “difficult” baby again.  i wonder if i’m being selfish because i don’t want to go back to the days of struggle and tears.  i am scared of feeling unhinged and crazy again, though i’ve already decided that i will stay on the Crazy Pills if we decide to go for Number Two.  i want my daughter to have the chance at a wonderful sibling relationship, and i worry that she would miss out on something special if she is an only child…but is that alone a valid reason to have another child?

right now i guess it’s all hypothetic.  i just wish i had a sense of certainty either way.  i feel like i should feel a strong sense of baby fever like i did before avery, and the fact that i don’t feel it is a sign that i am not ready and that i might never be.   maybe.

should we, or should we not?  before i got pregnant with avery i knew that i wanted to have a baby.  that whole baby fever thing?  yeah, i had it bad.  i was certain that i wanted to get pregnant.  i was certain that i wanted to become a mother.  there was no question.  i just knew.  

then, there was colic.  there was postpartum depression.  there were sleep issues.  there was anxiety.  there were marital ups and downs.  the adjustment to motherhood and parenthood has been a tough one; much harder than i ever expected it to be.  the certainty that we felt about Number One became the certainty of Only One.  as in no more.  never again.  

but lately, there has been a little murmur of hmmm, just maybe starting to rise, but i’m certainly far from certain.  

people have started to ask, “so, when are you having Number Two?” and my brain yells NEVER AGAIN, and my gut yells NEVER AGAIN, and part of my heart yells NEVER AGAIN.  but then there is just a little piece of me that says hmmm, just maybe.  i’ve spent time three of my friends’ itty bitty babies this week and felt a teeny tiny twinge of nostalgia and yearning, but also a sizable twinge of “oh shit, not yet.”  i can’t figure out which twinge is more frightening. 

recently i’ve been seeing our chosen boy name everywhere.  (yes, we do have names picked even though we haven’t decided if this is a for-sure thing).  it is not a common, garden-variety name so its presence is somewhat curious.  last week i had two baby dreams.  in the first i was folding boy’s clothes.  in the second we had another little girl.  in my dreams i was totally okay with having a second child. if you’re the type to believe in dreams and signs, you’d start to wonder if these little hints mean something more.  my conscious brain is not quite there yet, but i have to wonder if maybe these dreams and signs are my subconscious mind’s way of moving me toward readiness. 

i don’t know what to make of all this.  i honestly don’t know if i’m strong enough to make it through the first year again.  i don’t think i can handle another “difficult” baby again.  i wonder if i’m being selfish because i don’t want to go back to the days of struggle and tears.  i am scared of feeling unhinged and crazy again, though i’ve already decided that i will stay on the Crazy Pills if we decide to go for Number Two.  i want my daughter to have the chance at a wonderful sibling relationship, and i worry that she would miss out on something special if she is an only child…but is that alone a valid reason to have another child?

right now i guess it’s all hypothetic.  i just wish i had a sense of certainty either way.  i feel like i should feel a strong sense of baby fever like i did before avery, and the fact that i don’t feel it is a sign that i am not ready and that i might never be.   maybe.

8:02 am: begrudgingly surrender to my child’s wails of “mama, mama, mama.”  sleepily stumble to her room to fetch her from her crib.

8:03 am: pause to set the safety gate at the top of the stairs.  pat myself on the back for my supreme parenting skills.  good job, mom. 

8:04 am: turn on finding nemo, hand baby a box of dry cereal that happened to be sitting next to the bed.  thanks to my  late-night munchies, i can feed my child breakfast without even having to open my eyes.  ignore her cries for juice and hand her my camelbak bottle full of water.  

8:04.o1 am: close eyes, plug ears, pull covers over my head.  let child fend off hungry, cereal-stealing, face-licking dog on her own. 

10:28 am: realize too late that the loud THUD i just heard was the sound of my child landing on the hardwood floor after falling off of the kitchen chair

12:43 pm:  my child and my pseudo-child are listening to “wild thing” by tone-loc.  “but that’s what happens when body start slappin’ from doin’ the wild thing,” is probably not toddler-appropriate.  pause momentarily to wonder how and why this song is on my ipod, lament the fact that this is probably far from the most shameful song on there.

3:10 pm: decide that my child has proven herself fully capable of climbing down the stairs on her own.  neglect to stand below her on her descent.  watch in helpless horror from the top of the stairs while my child tumbles ass-over-teakettle all the way down to the landing.   

6:30 pm: a tube of yogurt, a bite of string cheese, three plain noodles, a handful (handful? yep. eww) of ranch dressing, and some sprinkles for dinner?  sure.  why the hell not.  

7:10 pm: child climbs on top of a table at a restaurant.  throws salt and pepper shakers on the floor.  laughs hysterically.  stifle my own laughter so as to not encourage this sort of behavior.  

7:12 pm: get kicked out of a buffet (!) restaurant for my toddler’s horrendous behavior.  epic fail.  okay, we didn’t really get kicked out but we did make a hasty escape before the staff could ask us to leave. 

8:10 pm:  shower time.  baby steps on my broken toe and i utter a stream of colorful vocabulary.  shrug my shoulders in defeat when she mimics me.  consider her future career as a sailor or longshoreman.

8:19 pm: remember that my child can now reach into the bathroom drawer with ease.  it’s probably wise to remove sharp objects and prescription drugs.  whoopsies.

8:31 pm: bed time.  no really.  go to bed.  now.  

8:33 pm: mmmm…..wine.  who needs a glass.

buzzkill

January 30, 2009

some days parenting a toddler is like dealing with a bee at a picnic.  you’re just sitting there, enjoying the sunshine eating a fruit salad and the bee is buzzing around your head thinking, “sweet!  a watermelon!  buzz buzz buzz!”  the bee is not intentionally aggravating, it’s just what bees do; the sight of a picnic is just too much for a bee to resist.  after a while you find yourself wanting to smash the fucking bee with a shoe.

jesus, sneezus

December 6, 2008

::aaacchhhhhoooo::

i love a good sneeze, but this is getting ridiculous.  have you ever hear the term “snissing” to refer to the, ahem, loss of bladder control while sneezing? it is a common problem during pregnancy  and  i’m sad to report that it doesn’t get any better after having a baby, and i didn’t even push my baby out of my hoo-haa;  she came out the window instead of the door, if you catch my drift.  add this phenomenon to the gallons of fluids and obscene amount of vitamins i am ingesting to flush this cold out of my system and i am kicking myself in the ass – with tightly crossed legs, no less – for not doing kegel exercises while i was pregnant.

gratitude

November 8, 2008

ahhhhh…..i’m sitting at a coffee shop with a cup of tea (which, sadly, is over-brewed and bitter) and my laptop.  alone.  after a week of solo-parenting i need this break.  i realize that millions of parents go at it alone, day in and day out, without the support of a partner.  i couldn’t do it, and it have tremendous respect for people who do.  whether it’s out of choice or necessity or just the end result of an unfortunate series of events, being a single parent must be the hardest job in the world and i pray that i never have to do it for more than about five days at a time.  i love being a stay-at-home mom, but i also love the moment when my husband walks through the door in the evening to help take over some of the parenting duties.  days always seem a lot longer when he’s out of town.  

i am extraordinarily blessed that i have the opportunity to stay at home with my daughter and be there for her every single day.  i am extraordinarily blessed that my husband and i were able to make this choice; i know that for many families it’s not even an option. 

there’s a delicate balance between venting frustrations and complaining and i use this blog to do my fair share of both, but i never want to come off as ungrateful.  my life is pretty darn good and i am always more acutely aware of the need to express my gratitude after my husband has been gone for a week.  certainly there are days when our interactions are snippy and my patience is short, but, damn, things are so much harder when he’s gone.  

so, to my dear husband, thank you for working so hard to support our family and supporting my dream of being a stay-at-home-mom.  i know you make huge sacrifices everyday, and that your job has more stresses than joys, and i don’t always do enough to show my appreciation for all you do.  thanks for bringing home the bacon, and doing it without complaint.  you are a damn good man, a fantastic husband, a kickass daddy, and an amazing partner.  i couldn’t do it without you, and i wouldn’t want to.

zapped

October 21, 2008

I have been on solo-parent duty for a few days as my husband has been out of town at some sort of boring conference. shh…don’t tell the stalkers and babysnatchers that I am home alone. those of you with children and/or overly needy dogs know how exhausting it can be to do it all on your own without the luxury of an extra set of hands, or worse yet, without an extra large bottle of wine. I overindulged in baked goods and fun-sized candy bars today to make up for the lack of alcohol, so it’s a good thing my husband is coming home tomorrow.

p.s. the pictures are coming

one year ago

October 17, 2008

one year ago my baby was just shy of two months old and she was in the throes of colic.  i was in the throes of postpartum-hormone-withdrawal-induced craziness.  i know i talk a lot about how “crazy” i am, and i often joke about it just to normalize my insanity, but after my baby was born i really, honestly felt insane.  i remember one day i was exhausted, and indescribably sad, and feeling terrifyingly unhinged.  i sat on the floor of my shower letting the steaming hot spray of water wash over me, and i held my little gilette razor in my hands and wondered just how much damage i could do to myself if i could get the blades out.  it was a scary moment because it was not me.  it was not a part of my brain that i felt i had any control over.  i didn’t know what else to do, so i called my mom.  i called her in tears on friday night and asked her, through my sobs, if she could come out and help me.  “do you really need me to?” she asked.  “if you can,” i answered.  and sunday morning she hopped on a plane and flew out here from california.  she stayed for a week and during that time she saw me at my lowest point.  i remember crying so much while she was here, and telling her that i had postpartum depression.  she kissed me on the cheek and told me it would be okay, but she didn’t really know what else to do. my mom is not really good with emotion; especially the ugly, scary, un-sunshiny kinds of emotion, but just having her here was a huge help.  that she was willing to drop all her plans, buy a plane ticket at the last minute, and fly out to be by my side within 36 hours of me asking her to come help me was amazing.  things started to get a little better after that week.  

i had been on medication before and i had wondered during my pregnancy if i would struggle with postpartum depression after my baby was born.  i probably should have mentioned my fears a little louder so that my husband and my mom and my doctors could have been on the lookout.  i probably shouldn’t have tried to hold the feelings in as much as i did.  i didn’t want to admit that it was difficult, or that i was struggling, or that motherhood was unmanageable.  but, for a while, it was.

the depression got better, or maybe just morphed into something more tolerable and manifested itself in my anxiety.  the anxiety became intolerable.  “every new mom goes through this,” i told myself. “this is just how it is.  this is how it’s supposed to be.”  but inside i felt like i was drowning.  i felt like i couldn’t catch my breath.  i felt like i was on the verge of tears all the time, but i wasn’t really sad.  i felt like i was going to jump out of my own skin.  i felt like this for eight months.  i put on a good show, though, and no one really knew what i was going through.  

i went to the doctor to talk about my insomnia.  

i told her that i wasn’t depressed.  a little anxious, maybe.  okay.  maybe really anxious, but if i could just get the sleep thing under control it will be fine.  

it wasn’t fine. 

i wasn’t sleeping.

i was still anxious.  

i started to fear that i wouldn’t be able to care for my daughter anymore.  i started to fear that i needed to go to a hospital, or an asylum, or a secluded tropical beach…by myself.  i started to fear that my husband was going to give up on me and leave because i couldn’t get my shit together.

i went back to the doctor. many times. 

i started taking medication again.  

i started to feel better.  

it’s been a year since i called my mom in tears, yet it feels like a lifetime ago.  life is so much better now, so much brighter, so much easier.  i am not the person i was then.  i feel human now.  i wish i had gone on medication sooner because i feel like i suffered needlessly for many months.  i know now that i should have sounded the alarm about my mental health sooner, and i wish that i had had someone to talk to about these feelings.  i wish that someone had told me that what i was feeling was not “normal”.  i know medication is not the answer for everyone, but for me it was a lifesaver.  and probably a marriage saver.  

a year ago i left the house one night because i just had to escape.  i walked to the park in my neighborhood and sat on the swing and cried in the darkness.  today i took my daughter to that same park and we climbed, and slid, and played on the swings, but most of all, we laughed.  on days like today when i am just overjoyed with the love for my daughter and the love of motherhood, i remember how hard it was then and how great it is now.  it’s hard to believe just how bad it was a year ago, and how much it has all changed since then.