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.