One More Day...

After tonight, only one more day of posting before I can take a little break. It will be nice to write when I want to, not just because I have to. It will be nice not to have the pressure of this on top of all the other pressures.

Blocked

I've been having a tough time finding things to write about lately. It's actually a really good thing. I find the happier I am the tougher it is to find things to write about. It's a lot easier to write about being down than happy. So, here's to the writer's block sticking around for a bit.

Booooring

Upon finishing Ratatouille:

Dylan, did you like the movie.

Mommy, it was REALLY boring.

Seriously?

I was looking for something mindless to watch while catching up on some work tonight and happened upon "My Super Sweet 16" on MTV. This is the most ridiculous show out there. If you don't know the premise, here it is - for 30 minutes we get to look into the life of some over privileged brat planning her sweet 16 party. We're talking about parties that cost in excess of $100K. Seriously?

Why on earth, no matter how much money you make, would you think it is appropriate, not to mention necessary, to allow your child to spend that much on a 16th birthday party. Add to that a luxury vehicle of their choice and you get the most obnoxious show out there.

What do these parents think they're teaching their children? What are they doing besides instilling a sense of entitlement? A sense of entitlement that will stay with them throughout their lives and only be a disservice to them. We've all known people like this - and usually they end up learning a very hard lesson.

NaBloPoMo Day 25

It has been an incredibly long weekend and in some ways I'm very happy it's over. On the other hand, I really wish I had one more day to do nothing. Or actually, to do a lot. I have so many things to do in this house and no time to do them. Oh well, maybe it will all get done at some point. That's all I have the energy for at this point.

Still Kicking

Amazingly, we're all still alive in our house. I haven't killed anyone, yet. I always hoped I would have the type of in-laws my parents are - as confirmed by my husband. In-laws who love and accept their child's spouse as their own. In-laws who would love my children and want nothing more than to spend time with them. In-laws who would be thrilled to see their son with someone who adores him and makes him happy. Unfortunately, that's not what I got.

What I got is in-laws who think they are the center of the universe and see nothing wrong with trying to watch "Dirty, Sexy Money" in front of a 4-year-old. In-laws who would rather go shopping than hang out with their grandkids. In-laws who hate me because I'm not their version of perfect. Because I have an opinion and my husband respects me. Because my children come first and I refuse to move the kids down in the ranks to allow us to go to the mall or out to breakfast.

We have tried to make things go smoothly with them. To meet them 3/4 of the way on a spectrum we can't even define. We try and we have come to accept the fact that things will never be more than superficial with them and that's the way it is. It's unfortunate.

So while the situation with my in-laws sucks, I did get their son who I love in spite of them. I got a man who sees their flaws and their mistakes and is determined not to repeat them. A man who is aware of the impact of his upbringing. A man who loves his children and wife and would do anything for us. I got a good man who has shitty parents.

Question of the day?

What's more important - spending the day with grandchildren you see 3 times a year or shopping at the Mall of America? The answer seems obvious, doesn't it?

Thanks

I spend a lot of time bitching about the things I don't like about life while there are a great many things I am thankful for in life.

Here's a brief list:
2 amazingly wonderful children
1 great husband
my friends
family
a roof over my head
clothes on my back
food on my table.

We had a wonderful dinner this evening at which 13 people managed to consume a 20 pound turkey. Now that's a compliment to the cook (me!).

Biting my Tongue

Anytime "family" visits it's a true exercise in biting my tongue. It's not easy, but it's something I have learned to do very well. Keep the peace for the greater good. Shut up so there aren't any fights. I wonder how much longer I can keep doing it?

a loss

I'm at a loss for words tonight and I don't find myself in that position very often. For some reason I have a mental block right now and I just can't get the thoughts in my head to turn into words on a screen. If feels like a dam which is about to be broken. I'm almost afraid of what will come out when it breaks.

Gobble Gobble

We host Thanksgiving at our home every year. The number of attendee ranges from 13-18 and I make every drop of food on the table. Every year I add something to menu. A new side or salad. Change the way I prepare the turkey ever so slightly. This year, I've done none of this. This year I am making all my tried and true recipes.

Most years, I anticipate Thanksgiving and worry about getting everything on the table in time. This year, I really don't care. I'm not nervous,I'm not anxious. I'm rather ambivalent. This year, I just want to get it over with and move on.

Whilrwind

Every weekend is a whirlwind. We don't intend for it to be, but it ends up being one. I don't know why. I don't know why we seem incapable of just staying in and hanging out at home. Not leaving the house for a day. It would sure as hell help me get some stuff done around the house. But no, we have to run around all weekend every weekend.

ugh.

Saturday Haiku

I hate six month shots
They made my baby girl crab
She seems over it

A birth story

6 months ago my baby girl came into our world. I remember everything about that day. It was Wednesday May 16. I had my regular OB appointment Tuesday. I was ready to meet my baby and ready not to be pregnant anymore. We made an appointment for me to be induced May 21. 4 days before my due date. I left work that day elated that an end to pregnancy was in sight. I told everyone I would see them the next day.

I woke at 2:15 am with very distinct labor pains. I knew what was happening but decided to wait a bit. I started timing the contractions. Like clockwork they were coming every 5 minutes and lasting about a minute. They were worse than with D. I felt them in my back as well as my abdomen. I continued to time the contractions and watch the clock until about 3:30 when I decided it was time to wake Dave. I told him I was in labor and he bolted awake. I called the doctor and as soon as I said this wasn't my first baby, the on call doc told me to go to the hospital. We called my parents to come over and take care of D. While we waited for them Dave took a shower and I got some last minute things together and pulled on some clothes.

We got to the hospital around 4:30 or 5. By this point we were about half way there. I told the nice nurses I didn't want any drugs and they started monitoring me. I got moved to a room and continued laboring away. Contractions were only about 3 minutes apart.

Around 8:30 my OB came in to see me and broke my water. I was about 6.5cm dilated. I asked how long she thought it would be. She said I'll have a baby in an hour. That was music to my ears. I had been in back labor for over 6 hours without a drop of medication. 45 minutes later it was almost time to push. My doctor came back in and we started preparing for the big event. When it came time to push, she entered the world much like her brother before her. With Dave on one side of me and my mom on the other. I pushed for 5 minutes, which was probably two contractions, and she arrived. I was told she was a girl and I think the tears started streaming immediately. She didn't cry upon entry like I remembered D crying. I asked why she wasn't crying and the doctor and nurse calmed me and said she would. And she did. That's when the tears really came.

I had a baby girl and she was ok. She had 10 fingers and 10 toes and amazing eyes and gorgeous lips. She nursed immediately, never needed any guidance. She looked like me. She loved to snuggle more than D ever did. Still does.

Anyone who knows me knows my children are my world. I would do anything in the world to protect them and defend them. I love them more fiercely than I ever thought I could love.

My boy is my heart. He is my soul. He made me a mother. He has the sweetest heart and I just want to drink in his essence. He is sensitive like I am. He is stubborn like I am. But he gives up more easily than I do and he is more easy going, like his dad. The love I feel for him is so great that I didn't know if I could ever love another child as much. I actually doubted it for a little bit even after my baby girl was born.

I was wrong. I love her just as much. My girl is more a reflection of myself than I could have ever imagined. Already I can see she will be tenacious. Stubborn. Opinionated. She will challenge me in ways D never will. She will push me to get her way the same way I pushed. She will get mad. She will fight will all her might the same her mama always has. And she will be fiercely loved all along the way.

Upswing

I was finally able to eat around noon today and started feeling human around 3. Short lived but evil little virus. Back to regularly scheduled programming tomorrow.

Blech

I'm sick today. Woke up with a migraine and THOUGHT I had slept it off. Went in to work and discovered I was wrong. So I came home and spent the day on the couch and in bed. I think I'm starting to feel better and I KNOW Dave will be on baby duty tonight.

And this makes it all worthwhile

Dave took Dylan swimming tonight. On their way Dave called and said, "I just can't compete." He went on to tell that as they were entering the gym the following conversation occured:

You know what Daddy?

What Dylan?

I REALLY love Mommy.

And it's official, the boy couldn't possibly be any sweeter.

Paradigm Shift

There's been a lot talk on this blog lately about being down or feeling guilty or being angry at the past or being unsure of myself. I'm done with it.

I'm done with being caught up in what is wrong or what is bad or sad or mad. I'm ready to focus on glad. I'm ready to start looking at the world through mildly pink tinted glasses. Let's not get too crazy; I'm definitely not ready for truly rose colored glasses. I'm ready to start taking some of the advice I've been doling out lately about creating your own happiness and taking control of your life. The advice about not letting outside sources control your happiness.

This week I will not allow work to get to me. I will not allow my self-perceived failures to cast a dark cloud over my actual successes. I will not allow stupid people to piss me off. I will not get depressed over my physique, the fact that new Digital SLR camera and a shopping spree at Banana Republic aren't in the budget or my house looking like, GASP!, children actually live there.

This week I will be happy. Or at least fake it so damn well that I fool even myself.

Weekend Update

It's been a busy weekend.

Here's a rundown.

# of bday parties: 3
# of meals eaten at home: 1
# of times we have been to Target: 3
# of times D has asked if it is Hanukkah/Christmas yet: 546879843132467987634
# of glasses of wine: not enough

Fraudulant Behavior

Half the time I feel like I'm just playing the part of a grown up. Like I'm going through the motions of being a professional, a wife, a home owner, a mother. I feel like everyone has it more together than I do.Like at any moment I will be found out and exposed for what I really am. Scared. Terrified, in fact. Terrified of failure. Failing at work and failing at home. Failing at being an adult. Failing at life.

I have a great family. My kids are thriving so I must be doing something right. A great marriage. I'm fairly successful. I have a great home. But it never seems to be enough. It's never enough to convince me that I'm good enough, smart enough and that, gosh darn it, people like me. It's the scared little girl I used to be coming out to make sure I don't forget about her. To make sure I don't forget to work harder. Try harder. Demand more. Always more because if I don't keep demanding more of myself I might become complacent. And nothing good comes with complacency.

So I hope I never become 100% sure of myself. I hope I always little doubts in my mind, here and there. Things I think I can improve about myself. About the way I do my job, raise my kids, run my home or be a wife. I hope I can always maintain the humility it takes to realize you can do better. Because it's always possible to do something better.