My Jane update

Jane surrounded by her adoring aunts and Mommy.

 Jane has her weekly library class today.  That's where she is right now.  I am thinking about her always.  I never get to take her to these classes since they fall on a Wednesday.  DH goes with her and he gives me a full report complete with cell phone pics.  I really wish I could go to this once, just to see her.  She has a ball at these classes.  She smiles at everyone, says hi, and is the most outgoing "baby" there.  She gets down in the middle of the circle and dances, goes up to the teacher to get a really good look at the book they are reading, approaches older kids, placing her hand on theirs and saying a sincere "hi" to them.  I've been told today that she went around and gave all of her toys to the other children, afterwards just sort of staring at them like, "well now I don't have a rattle...why did I give it away?!"  I don't know where she gets this outgoing gene.  My husband and I are certainly not extroverts and when we were children we were exceedingly shy.  I like to think she's this way because we have allowed her to feel safe and loved by the world at large.  But who knows...maybe this is just the way she is and nature beats nurture.  I do know that we have nurtured her in every way possible.  She is constantly showered with love from all of the adults in her life, both morning and night.  She has never been left to wonder if someone is going to care if she cries.  We are always there to reassure her that all is OK. 

[And, by the by, for everyone who told me that co-sleeping and extended breastfeeding would make my child "weak" and co-dependent:  suck it!  Yeah, that's right.  YOU were wrong.  I was right.  I told you so!  ha ha ha]

Since Jane is so social and always wanting to go play with the "babies", we have also enrolled her in a Mommy-and-Me dance class for toddlers 18-36 months.  I am a little nervous about it, and we haven't started classes yet (we will next Monday).  It's incredibly expensive.  $40 a month plus all the initial equipment, including tap shoes.  Yes, tap shoes.  I thought that was a little over the top for an 18-month old, but she absolutely loves her tap shoes.  And I don't have her enrolled in dance because I want her to be a dancer.  I am only doing this because she needs more socialization.  I figure once baby #2 gets here (no, I am not currently pregnant, nor am I trying) we will have to stop these extracurricular activities due to money and time constraints.  She can play with baby brother/sister then.  Of course, if SHE wants to be a dancer, I will do everything my middle-class income allows to make that happen. 

She is not only social, but extremely caring.  She always worries when she sees other people crying.  If she hurts herself and cries she will come and kiss ME.  She hugs me and acts upset when I cry (I don't often cry but I will fake cry to illicit a hug...guilty).  The other night we saw a Haitian baby who was crying and suffering from Cholera on the nightly news.  It was heartbreaking.  Jane couldn't get over it.  She kept pointing to the TV well after the story was over and saying "baby?" in a caring voice.  She was very upset at seeing that baby cry.  Gosh, that moment made me so grateful I have a healthy child and sick for those who do not. 

So Jane is just the greatest.  She's amazing.  She's wonderful.  She's absolutely adorable.  I love her with every breath in my body.  She is the love of my life.  I coudln't imagine my life without her. 

Yada yada yada.  :)

Achoo!

Am I the only one who pees a little every time I sneeze?  And sometimes it's not just a little, but enough to soak through my pants.  I know pushing out a 9 lb. baby has a little to do with this but this happened to me even before I had Miss Jane.  I know they say that doing Kegels will help...yeah yeah yeah.  My gynecologist tells me this every time I see her.  I just can't be bothered with it.  Who has the time?  Seriously, I can't even remember to take my vitamins every day.  I am lucky to remember once every three weeks.  How am I supposed to remember my Kegels?!  I guess I could do some now, but chances are this will be the only time I do them this month and so what's the use anyway?  I guess I will continue to pee a little every time I sneeze.  It dries fairly quickly. 

Tuesday, 9/14/10

So I am not bored anymore.  Nothing has changed.  Maybe my hormones.  I am caught up at work though and that makes for some boring days.  I have spent today looking into setting up a college fund for Jane, a will for me and my husband, and increasing our current life insurance coverage.  So, I feel pretty accomplished.  Now I am wiling away the last half hour of my day pining for Jane.  I really miss her.  Since it's cooled down a bit I've been taking her to the park to play in the mornings and she loves it.  She laughs on the swing, she runs around and goes down the slides all by herself.  It is so cool to see her grow like this.  I can't believe all I ever wanted was a "baby".  I love toddlerhood!  Tomorrow her Dada is taking her to a music class for other toddlers at our library.  I am excited for her to do that.  And fairly soon I am going to sign her up for dance lessons (mommy and me dance lessons).  I just want to get her out there with other kids.  She loves other kids or "babies" as she calls them.  I met an old acquaintance at Wal-Mart the other day and got her phone number.  She has 3 girls and one is very close to Jane's age.  I told her I'd call her and we could get together for a play date.  I haven't done that yet.  I'm a bit shy.  I don't know what to say.  Somehow asking her if she wants to come over to my house for a play date seems stupid.  This is why I have no friends.  ;)  I am no good on the phone.  I get all panicky when I have to call people.

Now how is this for a random blog post.  I am simply writing to pass the time.  I can't even come up with a title for this one.

I Hate Eggs

At Jane's 15-month well-check she was supposed to get her MMR vaccination.  I was really nervous about it.  At one point in recent history the MMR was not given to kids with an egg allergy.  Now, it is considered safe for even those with extreme egg allergies.  Nevertheless, I was nervous and kept telling our Pediatrician about it.  He finally said that he would give her a skin-prick test (SPT) to see if she had a reaction, just to put me at ease.  We did it.  I cried.  He had to stick the needle all sideways into her arm and inject a little bit in.  It looked quite painful.  20 minutes later he said she is not getting her MMR shot until (and if) she outgrows her egg allergy.  Apparently, the welt she had was a reaction.  I was grateful we did the test and she did not get the shot.  Yay for my mommy instincts, right?  :-/

So we get back home and I call the allergist.  If the MMR is considered safe for egg-allergic kids, why did Jane react?  He told me he could give her the MMR shot in his office THIS FRIDAY in graduated doses.  He will do his own SPT and go from there.  He thinks our doctor overreacted as 50% of positive SPT readings are false. 

...sigh...

I'm really nervous about her getting it.  I know she will be under the best care possible if she does have some kind of reaction.  But, nervousness is racing through my veins.  We have to leave our house by 7:15 am (early for us) to go to Louisville and will undergo a series of shots within a 2-hour period.  My poor child. 

I hate food allergies.  I hate that it's ruined my life.  And it really has.  I'm scared to take Jane anywhere now.  Even our pediatrician said that you have to be careful if someone has even eaten an egg and then kisses Jane.  I asked him how long someone would have to refrain and he said 24 hours.  What?!  So if someone eats a cookie they have to stay away from my daughter or else she might have a fatal reaction.  How am I supposed to manage that?  I guess I will just keep her on lock-down for the rest of her life. 

This is the reason I am already worried about Thanksgiving and thinking of boycotting all holiday festivities this year.  This is the reason I can't take Jane on any overnight trips.  This is the reason I obsess over what she eats, even if I KNOW it is "safe".  This is the reason I have nightmares about EGGS. 

I can't deal with this. I just can't. I hate it. 

The dreaded B-word

I hate to say it.  I'm officially bored.  It's been a long time since I've been bored.  Jane came along and my whole life changed.  There was always something to do.  I didn't think I'd ever find time for boredom again.  Alas, it found me.  Now, I know this must be something that a lot of people struggle with from time to time.  I know it can't just be me.  But sometimes I wake up with no exciting plans for the day and I just want to cry.  Days alone with Jane are the worst.  I delight in everything she does.  She is my next breath, my entire reason.  But...we are just bored a lot these days.  There is simply nothing for us to do.  Get up, breakfast, play, laundry, dishes, snack, nap, lunch, dishes, play, cook dinner, blah, blah BLAH.  Repeat.  The monotony is getting to me.  Even work bores me.  It' all so predictable.  So typical.  And if you asked me what would fix my boredom I could not give you an answer.  I have no idea. 

I think what I'd like is to have another life for just a week or two.  Maybe I could be 18 again and go to college for the first time.  Or if I could become some gorgeous movie star having a love affair, going to expensive dinners and on tropical vacations.  Of course, I would want to come back to my life...my Jane and my husband.  But a week or two in someone else's  (charmed) life sounds exciting.  I just wonder what everyone else does when they feel this way.  Is this why people have affairs?  Is this why some people thrive on constant drama?  I know I don't really want that.  I'm really extremely happy with my life the way it is now.  I guess this is really a reflection upon myself.  My mom always told me that bored people are BORING.  Touche...I've always been prone to boredom. 

So each day I look forward to Jane's bedtime and then when she's finally asleep and I am "free" I figure out I have nothing to do.  House is clean.  Dinners are planned and prepped for the week.  Facebook is slowly draining the life out of me.  I can't concentrate on reading.  TV sucks.  WHAT?!

Maybe this is just the heat of summer getting to me.  Maybe I should take my f-ing Zoloft.  Maybe I should get pregnant again.  (No...not that.)  Maybe all I need is a night out with some good girlfriends, which is really not feasible considering the only ones I'd really like to go out with live far away and I can't yet leave Jane at night.  Maybe my little family should go on a mini vacation.  But then again...that is so much trouble with Jane's egg allergies and having to prepare ALL OF HER MEALS at home beforehand.  Ugh...I just hope this passes soon.  Until then, I feel like a "Desperate Housewife". 

Some Random Thursday

It's 9:30 on a Thursday evening and my husband and Jane have been asleep for 2 hours.  I've been wasting time on Facebook, straightened the house, and even got a 30 minute workout in on the treadmill.  I feel GOOD!  I wonder how much I weigh.  Surprisingly, I haven't weighed myself in at least a month.  I used to weigh myself every day.  Of course, that was when I was dieting and delighted in the scale.  I currently weigh probably 10 pounds less than I did when I got pregnant.  Pretty good, but I've still got a good 15 pounds to go before I get to an acceptable weight.  25 if we're talking goal weight.  I worked out on the treadmill in only my bra and panties.  Luckily there aren't too many mirrors in the room, but I got a look at myself in one mirror and I don't guess I look that bad if you sort of blur your vision a bit.  ;)

And speaking of PANTIES, I bought some new ones!  2 pairs of lacy Daisy Fuentes hipsters (not hers, but her brand) that actually do NOT ride up my ass all day and a 3-pack of Jockey french-cut COTTON panties.  I'd never worn Jockey's before.  These are pretty acceptable.  They are comfortable and yet not entirely granny.  I'd say they are appropriate for a gal in her early 30's.  Well, at least a married gal with a 15-month old.  Enough about panties.

Now on to my chronic worry problem.  Yes, it's still there.  If you met me on the street you'd think I was totally normal.  Maybe a bit chatty, but basically normal.  Inside I am a giant ball of nervousness.  I am constantly on edge.  There is this terminal gnawing in my stomach.  I guess it's dread.  And it's all to do with Jane.  I will tell you it's because of her food allergy that I am like this, but I realize that if it wasn't that, it would be something else.  I just constantly worry about her.  I can never relax and just BE.  On the way home from the store today I seriously thought about getting some counseling.  I should probably get some "help" although in the past it's never gotten me far.  My family will all say I should just TAKE MY ZOLOFT.  I don't know why I won't do that.  Seriously, I will take a Zoloft one day and then forget for 5 days to take it again.  I guess I should give it a try for a few weeks and see if it really will make a difference.  I am just so annoyed with the way I am.  It is in my genes to be like this.  I was BORN nervous and worried.  I envy my mother who simply enjoys things as they come.  She never assumes.  She has faith that things will just work out.  I, however, do not.  And it's quite impossible to just force yourself to be positive, happy-go-lucky and carefree.  Quite.  I mean, I know all parents worry about their children.  But not the way I do.  Trust me.  I'm loco.

Well, the downfall of working out in the evening is that it gets me pumped up and I have trouble falling asleep.  It's currently 10:00 and I am not sleepy despite waking up with Jane at 5:30 am (egad!) this morning.  But if I don't work out in the evenings, I just don't work out ever.  Them's the breaks.  I'm off to shower and then read a little.  Wish me luck on the whole sleep thing.  I only have ONE HALF of an Ativan left and no plan on how to score more.  No, I am not a drug addict.  It's just hard to get your doctor to prescribe you those little gems (which are safe for nursing, the best news I have had all year long, almost).  In fact, I treasure these little pills so much that I got a pill-cutter and cut mine in fourths just to last me longer.  I get the highest dose prescribed to me when really I don't need one that high.  I'm smart like that.

Here's my baby. 

Good night.

Panty Confessions

I am in desperate need of new underwear.  In fact, my underwear drawer has always been a bit...childish, I guess.  I have never been a lingerie type of girl.  I can't wear fancy underwear thanks to my huge and, quite honestly, ugly ass.  It's too uncomfortable.  Whoever said thongs were comfortable is on crack.  They are NOT comfortable.  They are a 24/7 wedgie!  I have never owned lingerie, as my husband has never shown any interest in it (he's a t-shirt and panties kind of guy I guess...and you can't blame him, he's got ME to work with).  I own three bras.  Four if you count the uncomfortable nursing bra I never wear.  Two of those bras are the most basic harness contraptions you have ever seen...yes, they are nursing bras.  My panties are basically the 4-pack of Hanes.  Five if you're lucky and get the "1 free" packages.  During my pregnancy I never bothered to wear any pantyliners (ew!) and post-pregnancy...well, if I am having a light day, I just go with it (is that too much of a confession?).  My panties are nasty gross and several even have holes in them. 

I guess I should splurge and go to Victoria Secret or something.  But considering that I am starting from scratch, I can't stomach the sticker shock.  And I really want to know if these fancy panties -- the low-ride hip-huggers, the lacy see-through things, the thongs (yuck!), the french-cut bikinis -- I really want to know if these are supposed to be comfortable.  Are they to "normal" women?  Because they aren't to me!  Even when I go out and get my real size as opposed to the one size smaller that I ALWAYS buy just because I can't wear an 8 (and somehow a 7 is acceptable).  They are just NOT comfortable. 

I have always been curious about other girls' panty drawers.  What would I find there?  Am I abnormal or not?  My entire panty drawer is full of nothing but cotton, flower designed, period panties.

Confession over. 

Jane's 1-Year Video

Jane's 1st Year from Marie Skinner on Vimeo.

It took me FOREVER to put this video together.  I've had it finished for months now, but I just now figured out how to upload the entire video (no thanks to Youtube).  Since I spent countless hours on this thing (and love the finished product) I thought I'd share. 

Kudos to my friend Heather for suggesting the second song to me.  It's Will Hoge's "Baby Girl" and I love it. 

Food Allergies

Well, Jane is allergic to eggs.  I am depressed about it.  More like despondent, really.  I always had "what if she has food allergies" in the back of my mind because it seems like such a scary diagnosis, and one hard to deal with.  A food can kill you if you eat it.  That is major.  That is horrible.  And that is what I am dealing with. 

About a week after she turned one, I decided (per doctor's orders) to give her a scrambled egg.  She ate it up and within minutes her right cheek and the right side of her lips were puffed up like giant marshmallows.  It was terrifying.  My husband and I drove her to the ER.  All they did was give Benadryl.  In hindsite, I now know that they SHOULD HAVE given her a shot of epinephrine.  Long and horrible story short, we visit an allergist and confirm: egg allergy. 

Now we are to avoid eggs in all forms.  I am avoiding them too since I am still breastfeeding her and the proteins can pass through the milk to her.  Yikes!  Eggs are in a lot of things.  Soups, pastas, cakes, cookies, etc.  They hide everywhere and I hate them.  If she ever has another reaction, I am to jam an Epi-Pen (aka NEEDLE) into Jane's outer thigh and call 911.  Scary?  Yeah, sort of. 

I am not taking this in stride.  I am a nervous wreck.  As anyone who knows me will tell you, I'm a bit of a crazy person.  I worry and I worry and I worry some more.  This food allergy has MURDERED me.  Each time she eats I watch her and wait for a dreaded reaction.  No, I am not feeding her eggs, but I am petrified that she is going to develop an allergy to another food.  I have lost about 10 pounds because I am too nervous to eat.  Sounds great, but I am not taking care of myself properly. 

I started back on my Zoloft.  I hope it helps me deal better with this.  I am finding the love I have for Jane almost chokes me sometimes.  I am moving along the path of crazy, over-protective mother and I don't necessarily want to be that way.  I hope I can return to semi-normal soon...the Zoloft is supposed to do that for me.  Forget counseling.  Counseling costs money and our health insurance SUCKS.

There is a good chance she will outgrow this allergy by age 5 (I'm hoping sooner than that!).  So I need to focus on that.  I also need to learn to relax but I don't see that happening without massive amounts of alcohol running through my veins 24/7. 

It ain't easy being me.  Not because I have it bad but because my brain is messed up and set to constant, debilitating worry.  Something real like this food allergy sends me way over the edge. 

...sigh...

A Day at the Office

My work moved offices.  You should see our new building.  It is FABULOUS.  I have an office bigger than any of the bedrooms in my house (quite possibly bigger than our main living room) with a window bigger than a door.  We have swanky board rooms with flat screen TVs.  We even have a workout room (unequipped at the moment).  This place is POSH.  I'm loving it.  And I am terribly spoiled.  Here I am a part-time employee and I have my own huge office with a window and a door.  The lights come on automatically when you enter the office and dim in the afternoons when there is too much sunlight.  We are a certified GREEN building too, so that is really cool.  I dig saving the environment and what-not.

Only bad thing about this place is that it's added about 12 minutes to my 5 minute commute.  OK.  I know I shouldn't complain about THAT.  So I won't. 

It's so nice to be working part-time.  I used to hate Sundays because that meant the weekend was ending and I was going to have to endure 5 days in a row of waking up early and going to work.  Now I have no ill feelings toward Sunday.  I look forward to coming in to work.  I always wake up early now that Jane is around.  And the days that I stay home with her are most definitely harder than working out of my office all day.  The days I come in to the office are a breeze.  I really like my job and feel so efficient getting everything done in 3 days vs. the normal 5. 

So I'm pretty happy about my work situation.  I'm pretty happy about my home situation too (although we have foundation repair people coming next week to give us an estimate on fixing our sinking house and our kitchen has been taken over by ants).  OK, in all honesty I would love to move to a bigger and better house, but going part-time has slashed my take home pay by about 1/4 and upgrading just won't be possible until I return to work full-time (in about 8 years after my second child turns 5.  Well probably before then.  We shall see.)

Insert brilliant closing line that wraps this entry up nicely {HERE}.

Adventures in Being Awake at 3AM Continue...

It's official.  Jane is one.  We had her birthday party and despite the fact that none of my husband's family came, it was a great success.  (No, I'm not bitter.)  She had a wonderful day.  She woke up in a great mood...and it was like she just knew that day was her birthday party.  She loved showing off for everyone.  Jane loves people, so unlike her mother these days.

Anyway, last Tuesday was her actual birthday and that was the day I cracked.  I am chalking it up to a combination of PMS and consecutive nights of dismal sleep.  The night before her birthday she was all over the place.  She couldn't or wouldn't sleep.   And due to this fact, I simply snapped.  I don't know what went awry in my brain, but something in me just decided that this was unacceptable.  I am the parent of a one-year old who cannot sleep through the night.  Everyone else I know with babies (much younger than Jane, might I add) were complaining bitterly when their children woke just once during the night.  I was enraged.  Angry at these people for their petty complaints.  Oh boo hoo, you woke up ONE time.  You poor thing how will you ever make it?  And I was angry at Jane for making me feel so completely out of control.  I was desperate for sleep.  So desperate that once while I was driving to work I had to remind myself that I was in fact DRIVING and not in some weird limbo state between real life and la-la land.  I was literally seeing stars I was so tired. 

The worst part of it was that the morning of her birthday I was mean to her.  I did not tell her happy birthday.  I did not let her tag along behind me while I got ready.  I put her in her crib and let her scream and cry.  It's a horrible feeling but I didn't have anything left to give the poor child.  I left for work that morning without even saying good-bye to her. 

So my plan was to end it.  Not my life.  Not the co-sleeping.  But the night nursing.  We were going cold turkey.  I had to get ONE night of sleep.  It had been 365 days since I had slept more than 4 hours in a row.  I decided that I was going to spend the night with my parents AWAY from Jane and that my husband was going to take Jane.  It was up to him to deal with her.  I didn't care if he stayed up all night with her.  I had to get out.   I had to sleep. 

Well, 3 hours into my trial separation from Jane and right before I was about to drift off to a blissful 8 hours in a row, my husband called me.  Jane was hysterical.  She wouldn't sleep for him.  She couldn't catch her breath.  She missed me and I had to come home.  Well, I was in the car before he could finish his explanation.  Hearing her cry like that over the phone made me miserable.  I got home and she was despondent.  It took me a good hour to get her calmed down.  When she finally did fall asleep (3 hours after her normal bedtime) she was still shuddering from her cries.  I don't care how many people tell me that it's OK for her to cry.  Because it is NOT.  Not like that.  That was just wrong.

And now I feel as though I must insert that my husband is a good dad.  Jane loves her Dada.  He watches her every Wednesday and she loves it.  She takes naps for him quite easily.  He is an active father who helps out equally and has never once tried to get out of changing a poopy diaper.  There is just something in Jane that will not tolerate anyone but MOMMY after 6pm.  I must be the one to put her to sleep.  My husband cannot do it.  She will not allow it.  We've tried.  It has to be me.  Not Grammaw, not Dada.  MOMMY and only Mommy.  (poor mommy!!!!)

So after my big "meltdown" and decision to go away from Jane for one night and to night wean her, I am happy to say, I never got my 4+ hours of consecutive sleep and we are still nursing at night incessantly.  I am better now because we've had several nights of good (well, good for us) sleep.  But I'm not ready to commit myself to a week (or more?!) of no sleep that it is going to take to get her night weaned.  I don't know if I will ever be willing.  It's nice and easy to make a plan during the day and say you are going to stick with it no matter what.  But when it's 3AM and you haven't slept a wink and you have to go to work the next day (mind you I am an accountant and deal with MILLIONS of $$ every day), that plan quickly changes into "I must survive and will do whatever I have to just to get this child back to sleep".

What is the worst about this is that the day I was so miserable and completely unable to process any rational thought, I confided in a friend.  You know what I got?  "Answers".  Apparently, if I let her cry-it-out in a crib (yes for 6 hours in a row, it won't hurt her if she hyperventilates, throws up and faints) she will learn that she should give up and sleep.  I should also use white noise, put her to bed no earlier than 10pm and swaddle her (anyone ever try to swaddle a 1-year old?).  Gee, thanks for the tips "friend".  Nothing I was told was relevant but everyone in the world thinks they have the answers.  I guess when you complain like I do, people feel compelled to "help" you.  That's why I usually don't talk about my lack of sleep with my normal (eye roll) friends.  They really do drive me mad.  Especially because I know they think I am reaping what I sow for creating this "monster" that never sleeps. 

So, Jane is one.  We are still struggling with sleep.  And I still love her more than my next breath. 

My little birthday monster

Sweet Baby Jane

In one week I will be the mother to a 1-year old.  This is coming as a bit of a shock to me.  I just can't imagine how this happened.  I have a toddler now.  She is walking all over the place.  She can stand up on her own.  She's talking (nonsensically).  She's a BIG GIRL now.  And I am so proud of her.  I want to show her off to the world.  She is my sweet baby girl and I cannot imagine my life without her.  Just last night I was cleaning the kitchen and I looked outside to our backyard.  There are toys in the backyard.  There is a turtle sandbox.  I used to think things like this trashed up a place.  Now I see that they mean good things.  It makes me very happy to see her toys "junking" up our house.  These toys represent happiness.  Before I had Jane, I felt like something was missing.  I was desperate to get pregnant (and stay pregnant).  A lot of people didn't understand.  They said it would happen soon enough.  Stop freaking out.  Well, now I am standing by that desperation.  I was missing my Jane.  I think I had every right to feel so despondent.  My life without her was kind of empty.  No, I wasn't entirely unhappy.  But I know I was longing for something.  It's really cool being a parent.  It's still incredibly scary and a tad bit incredibly hard.  But it's rewarding and fills your life with so much good stuff.  It's more than you can explain, really.  (I refuse to say "it's the hardest job you will ever love."  So...I won't say that.)  I've often sat and thought, there is no way another baby on the planet has ever been loved as much as my Jane.  It can't be.  (No offense to those who love their babies as much as I love mine...obviously, YOU understand how I feel.)

I will say, I love Jane's name.  At first I kind of thought it didn't fit her.  I was wrong.  It suits her well and I love that her name is so classic and yet so unique for this day in age.  She will forever be my sweet baby Jane. 

I am also still shocked that this kid has red hair.  It's not just tinged with auburn.  It is a full-blown case of the Gingers.  At first I didn't really like it.  I didn't want a kid with red hair!  Now I wouldn't have her any other way.  She is unique.  And that is another reason why my "plain Jane" isn't plain at all.  She's full of character.  She's hilarious.  She is smart and beautiful and her mommy loves her more than life itself.

Wordy Wednesday

I've been following a lot of new mommy-blogs lately and I am amazed that there is this whole blogging world out there that I had no idea about.  People are "branding" themselves and their blogs as some sort of marketing/media thing.  I find that weird.  There are buttons, contests and give-aways, reviews and post-themed days (Wordless Wednesday seems to be a popular theme)...  A lot of these blogs are very good, funny and insightful.  I love glimpsing into others lives and finding where we are the same (and often very different).  I'm amazed at how witty your "average mom" can be.  There are some really good writers out there!

Anyway, now that I've come across this mommy-blogging world, I was at first tempted to join in and market myself.  Get as many followers as I could.  Do my own button.  Get my own "brand". 

But then again...nah...I guess I will just stay as is.  I was never one to join in on things. 

I'm pretty sure posting multiple posts a day, as I often do when I am at work, is not proper blogging etiquette.  So I apologize to the blogosphere and the handful of people who read my blog.  I have never told many of my friends about my blog (only the ones I really like), so there is something freeing about being able to type what you want.  This is my diary, but you also have the added bonus of other people (many whom you do not know IRL) reading.  So you sort of feel like someone out there is listening to you.  It kind of validates your feelings in a way.  It's a good release.  And since I am not exactly a private person, I don't mind sharing pieces of myself this way.

You will never see any reviews or give-aways or theme-days on my blog.  But I'll keep on posting my little posts and rants and brags and enjoy myself thoroughly, thankyouverymuch. 

This Too, Shall Pass...and That Ain't Cool With Me

I hate the saying, "this too, shall pass". Because people say it like it's a positive thing. We should be living the moment instead of waiting for it to pass.

***

 

I am not religious.  As in, I do not believe in God.  This always surprises people (well most people) since I am such a "good Christian girl".  I am not really spiritual either, but in my past when I was trying to get all in-tune with the world and myself I got into Buddhism.  There were two times in my life when I was really into being present, and I remember those times with such fondness.  The reason I turned to Buddhism was because I was miserable, as often happens when someone turns to religion.  I didn't like the reincarnation factor about Buddhism or any other of the real religiousy stuff, but I loved the whole mindfulness thing.  Being present in each of your moments is a hard task to accomplish.  You have to actually work at paying attention to NOW.  It's easy to reminisce about the past or think and worry about the future.  But actually paying attention to what you are doing NOW isn't easy.  The two times I really worked at mindfulness, I can remember with such clarity.  I remember the way the trees looked.  I remember the smell of the air.  I remember it all so well (and I have a horrible memory).  And each of the two times I got really into it, something wonderful happened. 

First time, I was in high school.  My grandmother had just died.  I hated my friends.  I hated the social aspect of high school.  I was sad all of the time.  Just absolutely miserable.  That was when I learned to let it all go and just be me (thanks to the help of the book "Simple Abundance" by Sarah Ban Breathnach).  By being aware of what was going on, it helped me to just live instead of fret over who was my friend, what I was wearing, who I was (or more appropriately wasn't) dating.  It felt really freeing to just live.  I ditched the friends I hated.  I didn't make more, but I also didn't feel so trapped.  The next year I went to college and that was the best, most liberating time of my life, to date.

Second time,  I was in college.  I had just been dumped by my first real boyfriend.  The one I thought I would automatically marry.  I was devastated.  For a good 3 months I moped (and stalked, but that's a different post).  Again, I turned to Buddhism.  I bought a bunch of books and concentrated on the present.  I decided just to live and see what happened instead of lamenting my luck in romance.  Not a month later, I met my husband.  And I really think had I not been aware, I would have let him slip through my hands.  I wouldn't have noticed the boy who sat behind me in French class.  I would have been worrying too much about what had happened and what should have happened instead. 

So now that I am completely happy and in love with my little girl I am finding that I am already wishing for the future.  I am always like, well when she stops teething and when she starts walking she will sleep better.  When she's 18 months we can do this.  When she's 3 years old we can do that.  I need to start learning to be present and enjoying our lives NOW because pretty soon I will be wishing this time back and realizing that I was not fully present.  I want to remember this time the way I remember the other two times in my life when I was practicing mindfulness.  With CLARITY.

So, with that in mind, I am going to re-read some of my Buddhism books.  I love the theory of it all.  It makes so much sense.  You don't know what tomorrow brings.  The past is over.  So all you have is today.  Better learn to be present and aware.  So simple and yet so hard to truly practice.

UglyFatSleepDeprivedBlues

So....

I'm not depressed. 

But I'm something.

(Maybe chronically sleep deprived.)

I just feel a little off lately.  The warmer temperatures really helped me last week but it's been cloudy the last few days and that makes me sort of morose.  Glum.  Down. 

It probably really is sleep deprivation.  Amazing how after a good night I feel so jubilant.  But we haven't had a good night in a week or so.  Jane got her first cold two weeks ago.  The first night she couldn't breath at all so I had to sit with her in the rocker all night long.  I got maybe an hour of sleep and Jane didn't fare much better.  But the night after that she slept probably 6 hours IN A ROW.  I was floored.  I woke up at 3a.m. out of habit and couldn't fall back to sleep until 5ish due to the fact that I just knew she was going to wake up any minute.  So, her good nights are so few and far between that I am so shocked by them that I can't sleep when they occur.  Catch 22 I guess. 

But Jane's cold lasted like 1.5 days and she recovered so well.  She's a healthy little thing!  And now she's really starting to try and walk more so that has destroyed what little progress we were making on her sleep.  She has no off switch and will try and get up in the middle of the night.  Last night it was nearly every hour.  It's like I'm parenting an infant.  Oh well.  I wouldn't trade her for a good sleeper because then she wouldn't be my JANE anymore. 

I'm also feeling that kind of icky way you feel when you know you are fat but you don't want to deal with it but it keeps coming across your mind anyway.  I caught a glimpse of myself on our computer camera the other day and before I recognized it was me, I thought, EW she doesn't look so good.  I'm really W I D E.  Barf.  So I am starting a jogging program even though I hate jogging and always have even when I was really thin (for me) and fit in my mid 20's (how is it that my mid-20's are already over?).  And really I need to watch what I eat because I could work out all day and not lose a pound.  My diet really determines whether I lose weight or not.  I know this.  Yet, I keep eating.  I went to bed hungry last night and that is what I have to do in order to lose weight.  So, it's a start. 

I am also in desperate need of a hair cut, new clothes (Nothing fits me.  It's either too small or too big.), and a mani/pedi.  My husband the other day wanted to, um...do it, and my first response was, "what is wrong with you?  I'm hideous.  Something must really be wrong with you if you want to have sex with ME!" 

So after writing my blog, I am now convinced I am suffering from a case of the "I'm Ugly, Fat and Sleep Deprived Blues".  At least now I know. 

So my plan of action to combat my UglyFatSleepDeprivedBlues: 

• getting a haircut on Thursday
• starting my jogging program (day after tomorrow, I promise!)
• eating less, especially no more late night snacking
• buying some new clothes (I have no idea when I am going to manage to go clothes shopping for myself.  Never?)
• getting a mani/pedi (I will never do this.  No time and can't justify the expense)
• getting Jane to sleep better (ha ha ha ha ha ha ha...)

Vacation 2010

Spring has sprung.  Or close enough.  I am thrilled that winter is over.  It looks like for the foreseeable future, we are staying in the 50's or higher and that makes me smile.

I've booked a vacation to Destin for late May.  Did you hear me?  I said I booked a VACATION!  I am SO EXCITED ABOUT IT!!!!!!  Our first vacation with our one-year old (sweet, precious) baby girl.  Now, maybe we are crazy, but if we are, I am in denial about it.  Because I think this trip is going to be the best ever.  My parents are going and so is my youngest sister, so we have built-in Jane adorers and babysitters.  Destin is not your cheapest beach destination, but my parents have offered to pay 90% of the condo bill.  So, almost a free trip, 3 babysitters, my favorite beach, no plane rides, and SUN.  I couldn't ask for anything better.  Just thinking about it makes me get all tingly.

I really hope that Jane can at least tolerate the sand and water.  We will be staying directly on the beach (basically) so if she gets too hot we can easily go inside or up to the amazing pool, which has a kiddie section to die for.  I love the condo where we are staying.  In fact, the picture from the top of my blog is the view from one of their rooms. We've stayed there twice before and really love the place.  Beautiful rooms, perfect location, 2 awesome pools, never too many people, crystal clear water, white sand, excellent restaurants, and just the right amount of "touristy" for my blood. 

My husband and I in 2005 (I think). 

Oh boy, talking about it makes me excited.  I can't wait to buy Jane some bathing suits, sand toys, and all of that other beach gear. 

Only downfall is that *I* am going to have to get in a bathing suit.  I haven't gained any weight, (Surprising, really.  You should see what I eat!) but I haven't lost either (Not surprising.  Just yesterday I ate an entire box of Girl Scout cookies).  I'm trying to cut down on what I eat and now that it's warmer I can go walking more.  But I should really kick it into gear if I want to look halfway respectable.  Problem is, I have kind of accepted the fact that I will be this big so that isn't much for helping with motivation.  No way I could lose 30 pounds by the end of May (in a healthy way) but I could lost at least half of that...maybe...  See.  I'm not very determined.

If anyone has any pointers or tips on beach traveling with a little one I'd be happy to hear them. 

Keeps Getting Better

I am starting to plan Jane's first birthday party.  Wow.  Snap your fingers and she's one.  ONE!  When I was trying to get pregnant and during my pregnancy I would imagine what it was like to be a parent.  But I could never see past the infant stage.  All I wanted was a baby.  I didn't want a kid.  But Jane is becoming a little girl and I was so wrong about it all.  It is so amazing to watch her get bigger.  Every new day in her life is my favorite age.  I absolutely adore the little person she has become.  She's got a sense of humor now.  She is starting to understand things I say.  She is starting to WALK.  And I know it's just going to keep getting better (until we hit teendom but that is so far away I am not even gonna think about it yet*). 

Whenever she hears somebody laughing, which is quite often in our house, she will mimic our laughter.  It is hilarious.  She doesn't know what she's laughing about and she isn't really into it, but she does it anyway.  It's almost like she's being sarcastic.  "huh ha hu hu hu.  This is what you sound like Mommy.  You sound so dumb!"  She will even do it if she hears laughter on the TV.  She's nuts.  When she "talks" she will sometimes do it out of the side of her mouth like she's Popeye.  She clicks her tongue and blows raspberries if she gets bored.  She can say "hi" and "bye-bye" and has started waving (like all the time, even if it's not necessary).  She likes to raise her hands over her head and go "aaaaah, boom!" and throw them down to the floor.

And I can't wait for more.  I am really going to enjoy watching her grow up.  And I am also going to enjoy being the MOMMY of a little kid and not just a baby.

*I am in denial about the terrible 2's (or 3's).  She won't be bad.  I can tell.  ;-)

I'm a Bad Neighbor, A Petty Person, and Come to Think of It, Nobody's Friend

We have very nice neighbors.  Last Spring and Summer when we are all outside we talked to them a bit, but we aren't overly friendly.  I don't know their last name.  I know their FIRST names though, which is a big improvement from the way we (DH and I) used to be.  That house has had many (OK, three) renters come and go and we never took the time to get to know most of them, although they have all been very nice families.  We are quite honestly, bad neighbors.  Until now, we were childless and had nothing in common with the people who live not 10 yards away from us.  We've been invited over a few times by the neighbors across the street for barbecues, parties, etc.  I NEVER WENT.  Not once.  Now those neighbors have moved away and we are left with an empty house and the fear that insane, crazy people are going to move in.  I curse myself for not being friendlier to the prior neighbors.  I have a very hard time making friends and putting myself out there.  So much so that I can't even stop by their house for a party simply because I am the most socially awkward being alive and afraid of ________.  I don't know what I am afraid of.  Seriously.  I'm really bad.  What's maybe even EXTRA embarrassing is that 3-4 of the neighbors on our street seem to be good friends and are always out talking to each other and visiting each other's houses.  We just keep our heads down, go inside and shut the door (or we did pre-Jane).  Nice.  Now, I will give myself a little bit of slack because those friend-neighbors all have children around the same age.  Maybe that is how people "bond".  ??

So, most of our neighbors are great people.   

******
Well, there is one exception.  The red-necks people humans ones across the street and over one house.  Yeah, don't like them so much.  They are the ones who set off fireworks all night long on the 4th of July...or NYE...or just any time it's considered semi-OK to shoot fireworks.  They are the ones who have people coming and going all the time.  You never know who lives there, who is squatting there and who is just stopping in to buy some drugs (I am 100% positive the dude who knocked up the 16-year old drop-out that lives there is dealing.).  They are the ones who have a pit bull who gets lose and literally kills other neighbors' dogs and who lock this dog up in an itty bitty cage outside (mandated by the City after one of the attacks) to bark all night long.  Actually, I think after the latest killing, that dog was put to sleep.  At least I hope so.  May he rest in peace. (smirk) They are also the ones who have cops stopping by probably twice a month.  I'm pretty sure the entire neighborhood hates them.  Well, I know for a fact the entire neighborhood hates them (since Jane has been born I have ventured out and had a few conversations with our neighbors...just for fun.)  One time they put up a "For Sale" sign and we were all so happy, but they never sold.  Probably because the house is in a state of disrepair.  Boo. 
******

ANYWAY.

Now that the house across the street is up for sale I am constantly checking out the cars who stop by to look.  Do they look nice?  Do they play loud music?  Do they have kids?  Are they trashy?  I am completely judgmental.  I am terrified we're going to get awful neighbors.  But I vow to be nice to them.  I vow to introduce myself to them and bring them "welcome to the neighborhood cookies".  I am really going to try to be better about it.  Because it would really be nice to have friends, you know. 

Speaking of friends, my husband and I have been in this town (my HOMEtown) for nine years and have ZERO good friends here to show for it.  My husband is just as bad as I am, if not worse.  He has yet to make any friends at all.  I at least have made some friends at work (although my closest work friend is moving to Nashville in June).  But we don't have any close friends.  And I can't tell you why other than I guess we are petty people who don't know HOW.  We find major flaws with 99% of the people we have met.  We are in a decent sized town, but there just isn't much here.  We don't know where the educated people (who don't just want to recruit you to their church) hang out.  I took Jane to the park a week ago, hoping to find some "mommy friends" but everyone there was just complete trash.  Seriously, they were smoking around their kids and that is one of my MAJOR pet peeves.  You don't do that.  I had to leave just to get out of the direct line of the second-hand smoke (which I am allergic to, for the record.)  There was one family there that looked really nice.  I gave the mom some "come hither" smiles and was nice to her, but no numbers were exchanged.  I don't know how to "court" when it comes to friendship.

I am baffled by those who have many friends.  Maybe I should take the hint.  Maybe I don't have friends because *I* am the one who is crappy.  If that's the case, it's a shame, because there ain't no changing me now.  (For the record, I used ain't to be cute.  I don't say ain't.  Seriously, that's just improper grammar people.)

I guess my only hope is that we are forced into it by Jane. I hope that as she gets older and into activities we become friends with some of her peers' parents.

Is that the way it works?

Once Upon a Time...

Once upon a time I really loved cats.  As soon as I graduated college the first thing I wanted was an orange kitten.  I got one and I loved him so much.  Remmy was like my child.  I would often call my mom and tell her the cute little things he did just as I do now with Jane.  Being the good mother that she is, she would ooh and aah with me.  Remmy was my love for four years.  But close to his 4 year birthday, Remmy died.  It was a sudden illness and we had to put him to sleep.  That was probably the hardest thing I've ever done.  It trumps even my miscarriage.  It was horrible.  I loved that cat with every inch of my being.  The day we put him to sleep I never stopped sobbing.  It brought me to my knees, literally.  I stayed up all night reminiscing with my husband about our precious kitty.  Soon thereafter, I started volunteering at our local no-kill shelter and I got a new kitten to "replace" Remmy.  He did heal my heart and I loved my kitties again.

My beloved Remmy

And then, a few years later, I slowly distanced myself from our three cats. It wasn't even intentional. I didn't want to get burned again so badly, I guess.  I got pregnant and had a miscarriage and then all of a sudden our cats didn't matter.  In fact, they were a nuissance. 

When I got pregnant again and it looked as though that pregnancy was going to stick, I started worrying about our cats.  Not about their welfare, but about how we were going to have a baby in a small house with three meddlesome cats.  We started locking them in our (large) utility room at nights.  Butters meowed all night.  He woke us up.  I thought we were going to have to get rid of him and worried about that more than I should have. 

Well, then comes Jane and now the cats really don't matter.  AT ALL.  In their defense, they have done surprisingly well with her.  We no longer lock them up at nights and generally, they stay out of the way.  My fears of them jumping in bed with her were unwarranted.  But like I said, I just don't like them anymore.  I can't tell you why.  I just have no love for them in my heart.  We returned my heart-healer kitty to the LIFE House from where he came and he now has a great owner.  But we still have our other two giant kitties and I don't want them.  They are nothing more than a nuissance in my life.  And I don't even feel sorry for them at all.  I often wish that they would just die silently at night.  This sounds horrible.  I sound so heartless, but it's the way things are.  Now don't get me wrong, they are not mistreated.  They just aren't loved the way you think that pets should be. 

It's weird how you can love something (admittedly Remmy was my most loved and dearest pet) so completely and then turn around a few years later and not really care.  I guess maybe that's how some marriages dissolve??? You just wake up one day and don't love anymore.  Or maybe this is normal when babies are born.  The love of your child trumps the love of a pet so completely that it seems that "pet-love" isn't there anymore.  That can't be true because I know of tons of people who have children and still completely love their pets.  Maybe I am heartless.  Or maybe I only have so much love to give. 

Whatever it is...does anyone want two giant, needy, annoying cats who used to be my life?

I'm a Bad Parent Completely in Love with My Baby

I'm a bad mommy.  I am.  I have been getting frustrated with Jane at night and I've been mean to her.  I feel horrible about it.  But when she wakes up from 2:30 to 4:00 to play with my hair I become distraught and impatient.  I can't take it.  I am rough with her and keep trying to get her to lie back down.  I say curse words.  I yell.  She doesn't get that I am being mean to her.  That makes it even sadder.  Last night in a moment of desperation my well-meaning husband took her in her crib (again) and let her cry for a little while.  Futile effort.  There is no way in 100 years that she would just say, "OK I am never in my crib, but I can see that Daddy is mad.  He must want me to sleep.  I will sit down, stop crying and go to sleep in this weird contraption."  I came back in there and she was standing at the crib screamcrying.  When she saw me she started jumping (literally...I didn't know she could JUMP) and screaming "mamamamamamama".  Um...heartbreaking!!!  I picked her up and took her back to bed with me.  She did go back to sleep after about another 15 minutes.  Sometimes she needs to cry in order to get worn out enough to go to back to sleep. 

...sigh...

I still toy with the idea of crying-it-out from time to time, despite my utter hatred of that method.  I just can't follow through with it.  I seriously think I would die of heartbreak before she finally gave in to her screaming sobs and just fell asleep on her own.  There has to be a better way.  Well, there is.  It's co-sleeping, but it obviously isn't working either. 

Whatever. 

She'll sleep soon enough...(in a year or so??).  Usually these horrendous nights are followed by 2-3 good ones that allow me to regroup.

So that is why I am a bad parent.  Each day I tell myself I won't get frustrated with her.  I will keep my cool.  Be patient.  Each night I fail miserably.  We had a good week (or half-week) there.  The good nights somehow erase the bad ones.  And the bad ones make you think it's never gonna get better and that you are going to end up in the loony bin first.

In other Jane news, she is the most precious being alive (according to me).  She has started saying "bye bye" when somebody leaves out the front door.  It is so adorable because she has this tiny itty bitty voice and says, "baa! baa-baa".  She's already got the southern accent down, although I have always said to her bie-bie.  Must just come natural somehow.  I still can't get her to wave bye-bye.  Sometimes she gets confused on what I am trying to get her to do and will clap instead.  (Adorable!)

She took ONE step the other day but them promptly fell down.  I do still think it will be some time before she starts walking.  She can cruise like nobody's business and can do this really agile "side walk" when holding on to the couch.  She can also stand on her own for a good minute until she realizes that she is standing on her own and will promptly squat down again. 

She will give kisses if in the right mood.  Her giving kisses consists of sticking her open mouth against your cheek.  It is the highlight of my day.  And I may be stretching the truth on this one because she hasn't done it consistently yet.  But yesterday when I said "give mama kisses" she did it.  Sooooo...in my book that is a new skill.

Lastly, we have been playing a game with her in the evenings of "I'm gonna get you" and she loves it.  She will start to crawl down the hall and turn around, anticipating me saying "ahmonnagitter" which is baby speak for I'm gonna get her.  I crawl a little bit towards her, say it again, and she squeals in delight.  Then she will turn around and crawl a little more as if trying to get away, I'll say it again, she squeals and laughs and cackles squirming to get away.  To me, I have died and gone to heaven because this is the best thing I've ever witnessed in my life.  When I take my showers in the evening her Daddy will play this with her as she crawls to see me in the bathroom.  I can hear her cackling the whole way down the hall.  It's priceless.  They will play that game going back and forth to the bathroom until I get out. 

Ah, she is my life.  I am actually scheduling a photographer to take some pictures of her some time next month.  It will be pricey, but I can't resist.  We haven't had any professional pics done EVER.  Maybe we can squeeze a family shot in there too.  I want them in time for her first birthday party.  I just can't decide if I want outdoor shots or indoor shots...decisions, decisions...

I am grateful to have my precious Jane in my life.  Despite how hard it can be at times.  The day she was born was the first day of my life.  My awakening, if you will.  And yes, I really do know how cheesy that sounds, but I said it anyway, so there.

You Probably Don't Want to Hear Me Wallow in Self-Pity...but...

I am hating winter so much right now I could cry.  Seriously, I am that close to crying about even MORE SNOW.  February sucks so bad I really wish I could punch it in the guts.  The thought of spring (green grass, little buds on the trees, my day lilies starting to sprout, walking outside with Jane, smelling that new air) really does make me physically ill.  I think I am suffering from S.A.D.  I've missed some work because of the weather and if I miss work, I don't get paid.  For those who don't know, not getting paid isn't good.

I HATE IT!!!!!! 

I'm booking a trip to Destin in late May but even that can't cheer me up.  It doesn't help that I am fatter than a rhinocerous and thinking of having to bare my skin in the glorious sun in front of all to see makes me feel weird in my stomach....but not weird enough to actually diet or lose weight, of course.  In fact, I don't really care that other people will be seeing me all gross and Fatty McFatfat.  What I care about are the pictures.  Those don't go away.  I somehow picture myself as being totally hot and in shape in my 30's and having Jane see me the way I am now in pictures makes me embarrassed.  MY mom was thin when she was my age.

In case you couldn't tell, I am in a super bad mood today.  Nothing can cheer me.  Not even the fact that Lost comes on tonight.  Blah, who cares.  Maybe this stems from the fact that I have been up with Jane since 3:30 am just because she decided she wanted to be up (for the record she HAD been sleeping much better the last 3-5 nights).  I don't know.  But I am in one of those moods where I hate everyone.  Seriously, I hate the world.  That isn't nice, is it? 

But do you ever WANT people to dislike you?  Just because you feel so rotten?  You feel so annoyed at everything.  The fact that someone doesn't like you actually makes you feel somehow vindicated.  I don't get PMS (honest!), but this is one of those rare times that I would be up for a fight.  You don't like me?  SAY IT TO MY FACE.  PLEASE!!!! Because I would so like to bitch you out. 

Not YOU.  (the world)

And then I go and read someone's blog whose pregnancy ended at 16 weeks and I am even madder than I was before.  What a rotten deal.  And then I go and read someone else's blog who lost a baby (named JANE) several months after she was born.  what?!  This is horrendous.  All it does is make me even angrier at the world.  Perhaps on a better day I would be sad, but today I am just LIVID about all the injustice in the world.  In case you haven't noticed, there is a lot of it floating around.

And thus ends my bitch-fest.  I am not an unhappy person (what? can't you tell?).  I just sometimes get mad and it feels soooo good to write it all out.  That's why all the good songs are sad or angst ridden.  Happy doesn't make for good music (or for much inspiration to blog).

Why I am a Better Parent than You

Got your attention, didn't I?

*******

Just thought that would be a funny blog title.  That is all.  You may leave.  No need to get outraged.  I don't really think I am a better parent than you, and if I did, I wouldn't say it out LOUD.  I do think you are a horrible driver though.  And your sense of humor could use some tweaking as well.

*******

I was just wondering if there is anyone out there who would EVER admit to any of those things.  I am a horrible parent, I can't drive worth a shit, and my sense of humor is quite non-existent. 

Those are the three ultimate put-downs, aren't they?

The Most Dismal Month of the Year

It is Wednesday afternoon and I am caught up at work with not much to do. 

The next two days I get to stay at home with Jane.  Now, don't get me wrong, I do NOT regret my decision to go part-time at work.  However, I will admit that sometimes my days with Jane are just plain boring.  We are actually both bored sitting at home all day.  Especially since winter started.  I basically just wait for her to take her naps anymore.  Most weeks we will go shopping to Wal-Mart or Kroger so I don't completely lose my mind.  But there are no indoor play areas in my town.  There is really just a bunch of nothing to do.  So for now we are waiting for Spring so we can go on walks, go to the Zoo, the park, and just get OUT.  I keep thinking we'll get out in the snow but 10 month old babies don't exactly "play in the snow".  At least mine doesn't.  Quite frankly, she hates it and I don't blame her.

My parents are leaving to go on a two week vacation next week.  That means we will have no one to watch Jane on Tuesdays and Wednesdays, which means that I am going to have to work the next few Saturdays so I can get paid for the time I am going to miss staying at home with her.  Blah.  And, ew, it also means I am going to have to make daily visits to my parent's house to check on their dumb cats. 

February, you suck!! 

Zoloft is Calling...

My arms are sore.  It must be the flu.  Maybe it's my vitamin D deficiency coming back with avengeance.  Maybe it's arm(s) cancer. 

Oh no, wait...I worked out last night.  With arm weights.  Doing shoulder raises.  Could that possibly be the reason?

Seriously people, what is WRONG with me?  Why do I always jump to these disastrous conclusions?

Let me just tell ya, it's exhausting being me.

I'm Gonna Age Fast the Next Decade

Well, I wrote an entire blog entry without mentioning Jane.  So now I feel as though I am neglecting her and must update with news of my little bundle of TROUBLE.

She choked on a penny last week.  My mom had her.  Jane was playing down by her feet while my mom was filing some papers.  Apparently Jane (who is faster than a speeding bullet) found a penny on the same-colored hardwood floors and stuck it in her mouth.  My mom thought it looked like she had something in her mouth so she fished around in there and couldn't find anything.  Seconds later she was choking.  FULL ON CHOKING.  100% blocked airway.  She did the Heimlich Maneuver on her and out shot the penny probably 2 feet.  Jane was fine. 

I can't get over this.  I wasn't there.  I only heard the story.  My mom was so shook up by it.  She said it took her an entire day for her face to stop being red (not Jane's face but my mother's).  We shudder at the thought of it.  My mom is always quite calm and collected but this...THIS really unnerved her.  Jane could have died.  Last Saturday night I could have been preparing for her funeral instead of snuggling with her in bed.   It's just...I don't know.  It makes me want to make some sort of offering to the gods.  I want to sacrifice a goat or something.  It's just unfathomable that in a split second I could have lost my daughter.  Forever. 

I'm having a little trouble getting over it, obviously.  I know most people have these crazy stories.  I just...I don't know.  Seriously, she could have DIED.

I'm trying to be grateful she is alive (which I am, of course!).  I just keep going back to it in my mind. 

If you think I was over-protective before, you should see me now.   Now Jane eats wet cheerios.  I soak them in water before I give them to her.  They are too crunchy.  She could choke.  She can eat dry cheerios when she's 12.  A nice lady on one of the message boards I follow mentioned something about her being "attached to my hip" which angered me greatly (oh no you didn't!).  But now I am thinking that maybe that is a good idea.  Maybe I can have her permanently sewn to my hip.  That would avoid any future penny episodes...wouldn't it?

I know, I know...you can't protect them forever.  Blah, blah, blah.  Watch me try. 

And I keep thinking that I won't be over-protective in the way that makes her want to rebel against me when she is 13 and start smoking pot in the middle school bathrooms while skipping class (wait...are you still in middle school when you are 13?). I am hoping that if Jane wants to rebel against me she will refuse to read Harry Potter and become Baptist or something.  Ya think?

Because right now, I am just concentrating on getting her to 13 alive.

I guess it's just going to take me some time to get over this. 

So here is my little penny-eater sitting on the same-colored hardwood floors.  She's gonna kill me, I swear. 

10 months old, 8 teeth, 18 pounds and full of life

A Possum Owes Me $50 or Now My Patio Furniture is Ugly

This afternoon I came home to a hideous discovery. THIS is what has become of my once lovely patio furniture.  That is not snow you see on top of the cushion, but the cushion's guts:

Oh the humanity!

Now maybe I shouldn't leave the cushions on my patio furniture all winter long, but seeing as I have nowhere to store them, outside they shall stay. I'm pretty sure it was a possum. We caught one (live trap, released to the wild, thankyouverymuch PETA) over the summer and I'm willing to bet my neighborhood possum community is pretty pissed off about it. 

Well, I don't care. A possum owes me $50 and that is being conservative. If you see this guy, let him know I'm looking for him. 

Dear GAWD, that thing is hideous.  I'm not gonna lie.  I screamed when I saw this picture.

That being said, perhaps it was a raccoon. They are dodgy little fellas aren't they? All masked up, always looking for trouble. 

Nah, too cute.

Or perhaps it was an angry squirrel.

If you think I'm just having a good time uploading animal pictures at this point, you are quite correct.

Perhaps I will never know. But I do want my money.  Or at the very least, a replacement cushion.  It doesn't have to be brand new. 

*******
(So does anyone know if you are even allowed to take random pictures off the internet and post them to your blog?  I am pretty sure no one reads my blog in the first place, so I am willing to bet it doesn't matter, or if it does, no one will ever know. )

I Hate Your Guts, Do You Want to Have Sex?

Last night was great.  Jane did excellent.  In fact, she did so well that I woke up at 3 am and was so excited by the fact that she fell straight back to sleep after nursing that I couldn't get back to sleep until 5 am.  All is well.  These sleep phases will come and go.  The Attachment Parenting board on ivillage has kept me sane.  Sometimes all you need to hear is, "Been there, done that.  This too shall pass.  Your child is normal.  You are doing a GREAT job.  Stop second guessing yourself." 

In other news...(I lied.  There is no other news.  That is just my way to moving on to a different subject.)

Never in my life have my husband and I argued like we do now.  It is kind of funny.  Neither of us holds grudges or else we'd be looking for a divorce attorney right now.  In the throes of sleep deprivation you say things.  You definitely mean them, but you forget quickly.  I have called my husband a complete jerk and an asshole and basically said I hate you many times in the last few months.  Heh heh heh.  Yeah, it's true at the time.  Yes, I MEAN it when I say it.  Now I get how children cause arguments.  Hellacious ones.  You argue over stupid things because neither of you know what you are doing or know how to fix the situation.  Who else do you get to tell that you hate their guts to and that they are a horrible parent only to "forget" about it 10 minutes later?  It's true.  

Now I am sure there are people out there who find this deplorable.  How could I have a healthy relationship when I am telling my husband that I hate his guts at 3am?  Well, I do and we do.  We have one of the healthier relationships I've ever seen.  We talk.  We fight.  We laugh about it.  We forget.  It's nice, really.  I have never been one to put my relationship on a pedestal.  I know others who refer to their marriage as an "entity".  No I can't go out this weekend, I need to work on my "marriage".  Those people are mostly divorced now.  They take themselves so seriously that they forget to LET THINGS GO. 

If there is one thing I like about myself and my husband it is the whole "not holding grudges" thing.  Now if he went out on the town one night, got totally plastered and had sex with a random woman I would say it is OK to hold a grudge (at least for a day or two).  But the basic, everyday stuff I can and do let go. 

Sometimes when he says to me (and he totally means it and I am totally quoting him here), "you are the most horrible person I have ever met,"  we both just break out into laughter.  It's completely hilarious because we both know that he means it and that he still doesn't care.  Now that, my friends, must be love.  Or something like it.

Insomnia is a BITCH

I'm posting blog entries left and right these days.  It's because my brain is on over-drive.  I don't know how to shift into neutral.  (cool analogy, huh?  I thought you would like that.  I'm soooo savvy.)
Now I can no longer complain about Jane and her poor sleep habits.  I know exactly where she gets it from. 

Pointing finger at ----->ME

(Oh who am I kidding, I will still complain about it.  It's what I do.)

It happens a lot.  I will lie in bed and just NOT sleep.  I don't think of anything in particular (health issues, blog entries, grocery lists, why are my hands itchy, it's too hot, I think I need to pee, my shoulder hurts, hey I am not sleeping, if I fall asleep now I can still get 6 hours, seriously, WHY are my hands itching.....).  My brain won't shut up!  Last night I laid in bed from 11-2 before I gave up looking at the clock.  I assume that's because I fell asleep shortly thereafter.  I hope that's why.  Sometimes I don't even know IF I slept the night before. 

If I wasn't sleeping with my little one and if I wasn't still nursing her and if I wasn't scared she would need me in the middle of the night, I would be popping Xanax like nobody's business.  I'm a bundle of neurotic nerves.  I've been pushed into overdrive by a week of poor sleep (thank you Jane) and I guess I am so worked up into a zombified frenzy that my brain won't shut down at night anymore.

Tonight I am going to bed when Jane does.  I'm now allowed to get out of the bed and check Facebook.  No status updates.  No TV.  No reading.  (No working out.)  I am punishing myself.  I "sleep" when she sleeps.  Take THAT insomnia!

10 Reasons Why Co-Sleeping is Swell

1. In the event of fire, grab Jane and run. 
2. Good excuse not to have sex.  I can't.  We'll squish Jane and kill her!
3. Lower heating bills.  That girl is a little furnace!
4. I get in my snuggle time.  She can't push me away when she's asleep.  Ha ha!!!
5. Night nursing.  It's gonna happen.  Might as well not get up for it.
6. I can indulge in my obsessiveness and check a million times if she's still breathing.  (She always is.)
7. I'd rather be woken up by Jane poking me in the eyes and smiling at me than by an alarm clock any old day.
8. I can keep my sanity instead of torturing myself listening to her cry all night. 
9. There has to be some great endorphins released into my body just by being near her.  I can feel the goodness of her all night.  Surely I am offering some of that back to her.
10. She's really cute.  And she smells good.

Let Me Get All Philosophical-ish

Jane did good last night.  She slept from 7:40 to 1-ish.  I nursed her (because I am so not gonna try night weaning right now), she fell back to sleep until 3-ish.  I nursed her again and she did squirm and TRY to wake up but never really did until around 7am.  Kind of sucky to constantly be trying to keep her asleep from 3 am til she woke up though.  Funny thing was that I had insomnia last night despite (or because of) my exhaustion.  I laid in bed 2-3 hours before I fell asleep.  That always happens.

And again, I have to clarify that I am not anti-CIO.  Well, some days I am, when I am feeling "holier than thou" and pissed off that MY baby is so hard.  It's easier to be judgmental on those days.  But mostly, I know that you do what you have to do.  One thing I have learned upon becoming a parent, is that you hold all judgment on your fellow parents because you just don't know what their situation is.  You don't know what their baby is like.  You just don't know. 

Speaking of parents and their differences.... I came across someone's blog the other day (don't know her...she's not even on one of my message boards) and she was giving out pointers for baby gear to "newbie parents".  So funny because the things she said you should not bother buying were the opposite from my view.  The things she said you can't live without, I could certainly live without.  I think it's so interesting and great how we all differ.  That is why I should just live and let live and stop worrying about other people so much.  We are all so different.  Just because one person says that their child liked this or did that does not mean mine will.  I keep hanging on everyone's "advice" like it is universal fact.  I don't know why I don't have faith in my own instincts.   

"Faith" is definitely something I don't have.  Don't have it when it comes to religion (and not looking for it, thank you).  Don't have it when it comes to my body (hence the hypochondria).  And I certainly don't have it when it comes to my choices as a parent.  Don't know how you obtain this "faith" either.  And, quite honestly, I am not sure if I want it.  To blindly assume things will be OK is not in my personality type.  It seems almost illogical (no, I am not a Vulcan).   I think, with age and further experience (I'm only 30 for crying out loud) I will get better.  Maybe that is what parenthood is here to teach me: to trust blindly in myself