Wordless Wednesday

 

Motherhood // Thirteen

This age has come with frustration, rewards, pride, confusion, annoyance, and joy. All mixed into one. This has been the year that I’ve really noticed my and Emery’s relationship shifting. Navigating these changes has come with many challenges - some denial on my part too. I mean, yes, she’s getting older. Yes, she’s starting to have her own opinions. Yes, we disagree a lot more. And yes, there’s that pushing of boundaries. She's also having to figure out who she is, as her own person - apart from her family unit. So, I’ve come to find that when people say the teenage years are rough, they are not kidding. Even for the most well-behaved kids out there, these years seem to be harder for parents. And for me, sometimes it feels like the changes happened overnight - I blinked.

Emery is now two inches taller than me. She’s a social butterfly and 85% of the time she’s really extroverted. She’s learning how to drive. She constantly talks about “hating” her nose - which looks like mine. She doesn’t like to “hang out” with me very often - opting to stay home rather than go anywhere with me. Her taste in music is constantly evolving, and so is her taste in movies/shows. She’s starting to have crushes on boys and has questions/concerns about dating (in the future). She’s figuring out who her friends are, and who are only around so they can talk badly about what they’ve learned. She says “no” more and talks back. Sometimes there’s more sass coming from her than I know what to do with, and it’s during those instances that the reality of how different we are is on full display. Sometimes it's frustrating. I hear some of the same phrases I used to dish out to my parents at that age. Then the feelings/memories of how I felt come rushing back and I know exactly how she feels. However, now I'm seeing things from the eyes of a parent. And that's when I call my mom and apologize for the hell I put her through - for the millionth time.

All of that said, there are still moments when my little baby comes out. When she’s sick and wants me to lay in bed with her until she falls asleep. When she performs these karaoke song/dance routines for Corey and me. When she kisses my cheek before exiting the car at school drop-off. Followed by, “Bye Mom. Love you.” When she’s had a rough week, she’ll jump on me and wrap herself around me, while saying, “Just love on me, mom.” Or when she asks if we can talk. Usually about her feelings, things that are bothering her, or just opinions about something going on. It’s a more grown-up version of our old, “Mommy-Daughter talks.” Then, sometimes during car rides, she’ll randomly play a song she used to listen to when she was little - singing along to every word. And I get tears in my eyes because I can picture her in her green car seat, bopping her little head to the beat and singing at the top of her lungs. 

Thirteen, so far, has been a bittersweet age. Sometimes, I look at her, and I can’t see that chubby little toddler who dressed in bright-colored outfits and clung to my neck. Then there are some nights, while putting some of her stuff away, that she’ll be asleep and I get a brief glimpse of that little girl again. But it’s back to the young lady she’s growing into, every morning when she walks out of her room. It’s bell-bottom jeans and makeup. Her white backpack hanging across her shoulders, and cell phone in hand - she'll reach for the car keys and ask if she can drive to the end of the road. Somedays, I don’t miss a beat. We’re usually rushing out the door. Others, I stop in my tracks, and I can’t believe how fast the years went by - I blinked. 

Maybe I Would Have...

Lately, it seems like my news feed is nothing but pregnancy or birth announcements. And while I’m super happy for everyone - sometimes I get a little sad about my own personal journey. Or lack of one. There’s no jealousy or resentful feelings - don’t get it twisted. My sister-in-law is going to have a baby! Several friends are expecting, including my bestie, and so is a co-worker. That one dude just had a baby of his own and he’s absolutely precious! And I honestly can’t wait for all of the baby showers that will take place over the summer. Then getting to hold all of these little ones when they arrive?!?! Eeks! I’m pretty excited. There’s really not much out there that's better than baby's breath & those tiny little hands and feet. The little wiggles and sleepy eyes! Agh! It’s wonderful. Babies are a blessing, and I'm really happy for those who are getting to add to their families.

It was something I had considered doing on my own not too long ago as well. Around the middle of 2019, I finally made a decision to save up enough money to try for baby#2 on my own in 2020. I had spoken to my mom about it one afternoon as we sat on my porch and I remember her saying, "If you want another child, have another child." Since I didn't think the dating thing would lead anywhere I told myself that I could spend 6-9 months putting money aside in order to attempt IUI in the middle of 2020. Well, then I met Corey and all of those plans went out the window. And even though we've talked about having a child of our own the "when" isn't something we've agreed on. Realistically with everything going on in our lives, that "when" just keeps getting pushed further and further back. The last time we spoke about it, it was so far down the future road that it’s not really a possibility for us that I can see myself being able to go through with. Keep in mind I'm 33 years old - soon to be 34. Now, my sister constantly tells me that it will happen one day when the time is right, but I don’t feel like it will. There are too many factors working against us, and not enough time to work through them all. 

So, recently there have been more days where I get bummed out when thinking about not being able to have another baby. There have been a lot of tears. A LOT. I've questioned a lot of my choices. I've felt terrible for promising my daughter a sibling, and never having gone through with it. For shutting her down last month when she asked, hopefully, if we'd make the spare room a baby room. It all hurt too much to think about. A few days ago as she cuddled up in bed with me she said, "Mom, I can be your baby forever if you need me to. I won't leave you." And for just a moment, I remembered what it felt like to hold her for the first time. I remembered strapping her in the car seat for our ride home from the hospital. I remembered how gentle we were with her and how scared we felt that we wouldn't get this whole parenting thing right. I remembered the first time she sat up on her own, and then the first time she rolled off the bed on my watch. I remembered her little giggles and the way she'd say "momma". All such wonderful memories - most that I have captured in photographs or videos. And I just felt super grateful for all of the moments.  

If I had known back then that my daughter was truly going to be my only child I may have done things differently. I may have tried to enjoy my pregnancy. It was so rough, y’all. Maybe I would have splurged on maternity jeans rather than use elastic bands to hold up my pants because I just couldn’t “bear to let go of my regular jeans”. The ultimate sign that I was getting “fat”, losing my “youth”, and my body would never be the same. *insert eye roll* If I had known she would be my only one then I may have tried to breastfeed longer. Saved a few more onesies for that keepsake blanket. Maybe I would have spent more time being present rather than going to school. Maybe I would have called my marriage sooner, rather than ignoring all of the signs and putting her through all of the unnecessary trauma. Maybe I would have held her more often and gone on all of the walks she asked to go on as a toddler. She was always asking to be outdoors. Maybe I would have savored those precious moments just a little bit longer. The little yawns and coos. The neck hugs and sloppy kisses. Maybe I would have held on a bit longer. 

I mean, don’t get me wrong. I’m fully aware that those little babies turn into tiny humans that eventually turn into angsty teenagers. Ours is in full tween mode in our household, and Lord help me. I’m also aware that they talk back and test you a little bit more with each stage that they reach. I know that the hormone changes can cause some chaos. And then when they start crushing on someone or even start dating? My gosh. That's a whole other ordeal we have to learn to navigate. Trust me, I know all about the struggles still to come. But I also know that the rough times are fleeting. That it’s all part of growing up. I know that there are way more beautiful moments than rough ones. I also know that I still have so much more to experience with Em! So many firsts and new adventures. I look forward to all of it too. My baby, growing up. In fact, I’m so grateful to God for anything he allows me to be there for, truly. It's just that sometimes I get a little sad when I think about how I won’t get another round of them. 

There’s a whole lot more that we have to consider now too. So, with every passing month, every year, I feel that hope for another child slowly fade. And I know in the end there’s a reason for it. There’s a bigger plan I can’t see. And it will all be okay. I will be okay. But somewhere in the back of my mind I can't help but think that if I had known that all of those firsts with her would also be my last, maybe I would have slowed down a little bit more. Maybe I would have savored them a little bit more. Maybe I would have...

Attitude Adjustments & Pressing Buttons

Y’all, I absolutely love my child. She is the sun, the moon, and all of my stars. There is literally nothing I wouldn’t do for her. When I was in the hospital bed, getting ready to deliver her, they had me sign a bunch of paperwork and answer several questions about what they needed to do in case of an emergency. The nurse asked, “If there are any complications, and it comes down to you or the baby who do you want us to save?” “Her,” I answered, “Just save her.” If you’re a parent, you probably know this love I’m talking about first hand. It’s truly unconditional. There are so many times when I catch myself looking at her while thinking, “Wow, I get to be her mom. How fucking lucky am I? I mean, what did I do to deserve this gift??” It’s an amazing thing, right? Right. Well, I want you to keep all of what I just said in mind as I head into this next section because it's a doozy. 

Y’ALL, MY KID IS DRIVING ME INSANE. HER ATTITUDE CAN BE SO DAMN FRUSTRATING AND ANNOYING! And our house is just not big enough to hold both of our stubborn tendencies. I mean, what the hell happened between seven years old and nine years old? It’s like the “Invasion of the Body Snatchers”. Only in slow motion. I went from having this wonderful little girl who loved to be around me and listened to me when I asked her to do something without complaint. A little girl that said please, and thank you. She smiled at everything. Very rarely would she ever talk back, and in the instances that she did all I would have to say was, “Emery, that’s not very nice. I’m really disappointed in your behavior right now.” This usually led to, “I’m so sorry mommy! I promise I’ll be better. Please don’t be disappointed.” The behavior or attitude would go away, and all was well with the world. Do you want to know what response I get these days? “Life’s full of disappointments, mom! You’ll be okay.” Yea! I mean, technically she’s right, but dude she’s nine. She’s constantly responding to me with, “NO” or “I’m not doing that.” or my favorite, "I. DON'T. WANT. TO." She'll huff, slam her bedroom door, or roll her eyes. And don’t even get me started on the daily battle that is waking her up and getting her ready for school in the morning. I never knew just how big of a meltdown a kid could have by just asking them to put on pants. The real ones, not the jeggings. And if I’m being honest, the two’s, three’s, four’s, and five’s were a cake walk compared to nine. Not to mention that she also still insists on sleeping with me. I have to bargain and bribe if I want to get one or two nights in my own bed. Because if I don’t, the little sneak will wait until I’ve fallen asleep and then come on in to make herself comfortable. Then I get a pretty rude awakening around 3 AM to her little body flung across mine. Or getting kicked in the head. And what the hell, I’m the adult, right? Right. 

Anyway, it’s been a little rough lately. The only male, disciplinary, figure she seems to fear is my brother. So, a few weekends ago I asked him to talk to her. Maybe, hearing this stuff coming from him would cause something to click in her mind? Of course, I was lectured too. “Raquel, you’re the parent.” and “Raquel, you need to start disciplining her.” Followed by, “Raquel, you’re her mom not her friend.” and “All I’m hearing are excuses. Put your foot down or she’s going to walk all over you.” And well, he’s not wrong. But “doing” is so much harder when I get stuff like, “Ughh! Mom, you’re the worst. Why can’t I stay with dad?” thrown at me. Or, “I did do what you told me. If you wanted that other stuff done too you should have mentioned it.” (Kim, technically, you should be proud - she expects specifics.) Then there are the moments when she hugs me so tight, and she says  "Mom, you're the best. Thank you for being so awesome!" or the very famous, “Mom, can I please sleep with you? I love you so so much and I don’t want to be away from you.” Oohhh, does that last one get me. Every. Single. Time. And then I’m giving in. Or I’m doing the stuff for her instead of making her do it. Or I’m letting the attitude slide. I give her a look when she talks back, but then we both know I'm just going just give up. And this just isn't getting us anywhere. So, this is why I wanted my brother to have a talk with her. To kind of back me up. Maybe put the fear of God in her a little bit too? Because I was honestly just grasping at straws when it came to figuring out how to address all of this. 

After their little talk, some disciplinary action, and a deal that was brokered between the two, things have been somewhat better. Enough of a change that Beau even noticed a difference. “Did you notice that she’s not talking back that much?” he mentioned one afternoon. However, it’s not all over with. She still tries to test our boundaries, and push my buttons. Though lately, it’s more along the lines of bedtime extensions, bathing practices, and sleeping arrangements. There have been a few instances where she’s said a few things about Beau and my’s relationship. Little pokes and prods here and there at both of us. The difference is that now I share what’s being mentioned in front of him so that he knows too. And now that she’s catching on to the fact that we’re actually communicating about things the comments have started to become less frequent. But boy if this doesn’t feel like we’re getting a little glimpse into the future. I’m already dreading the teenage years, y’all. In fact, if we could just skip that whole phase that would be great. I mean, is it just my kid? Is it typical behavior for kids with divorced parents to act like this? Or is it just this age? One of my co-workers says it's that year in general. Something about 2010 babies, and having really stubborn "devil-may-care" attitudes. One of his is the same age as Emery. And as much as we're warned about the "two's" and "three's", you'd think we'd hear something about this, right? Well, I don't know about you but I had never even heard of, nor was I ever warned about the “terrible pre-teens”. But damn, if we haven’t arrived. So, wish me luck! Say some prayers. Send me all the good vibes. Toss some of them in Beau’s direction too. And let's just hope that we can all make it through to the other side intact. 

Baby Fever & A Lesson in Letting Go

Just a heads up guys: THIS ONE MIGHT GET LONG, JUMBLED, & INTENSE.

So back in the day, before I was in my mid-twenties, I always saw myself as a mom of two. Then I got pregnant with Emery early on and my pregnancy was NOT pleasant. I was sick well into my seventh month, prescribed medication that caused me to gain weight rapidly in the last two, and was warned that I could have complications giving birth. Then I dilated, and after a rough week somehow closed right back up. Trust me, even my doctor was a little baffled by that last one. I was informed that for the sake of my daughter’s life as well as my own the best course of action would be to induce. So we did. Labor was intense, I remember crying about the pain to my mother as she held my hand, and then Emery made her grand entrance three hours sooner than anyone expected. She was and continues to be perfection. A few months after she was born I was sitting in the living room watching the rain fall outside as I rocked her to sleep, and I felt content. My heart was so full, and I remember thinking, “This is good. One can be enough for us.”

Then life started to pass by. My daughter turned two, and I remember telling my mother, “I wish we weren’t struggling so much. I’d love to have another baby soon.” To which she replied, “Then have another baby. Parents always find a way to make it work. To provide.” But I dismissed her suggestion with a wave. I didn’t want to be irresponsible. You see, at the time I kept thinking, "Well when my husband gets a job maybe then we can expand our family." Or "Well, maybe when we get all of his legal stuff taken care of we'll have some room in our finances to support another child." And not only did we struggle financially then, but my marriage was pretty rocky too. At the same time I was also working, and attending school-- both full-time-- so I felt like I was already stretched pretty thin. So, I didn’t think it was fair to bring another child into so much instability, and uncertainty. Then my daughter turned five. By this time I felt like I had waited too long. One excuse had led to another, and I had missed our shot to give my daughter a sibling close to her age. I couldn’t turn back the clock. With my thirties right around the corner, and a marriage that was deteriorating I would have to be okay with my perfect one & only child. “This is okay. One can be enough for me.”

Last year, when I had my yearly exam I asked my doctor for her professional opinion of me going through with a second pregnancy sometime in the future. We talked about my first only pregnancy, and how my body had handled it. “Well, you went through a pretty bumpy pregnancy your first time. It wasn’t too bad, medically, but that was also when you were in your early twenties. There’s a chance that you could have a completely normal, and even pleasant experience the second time. Or it could be a lot worse. Not just for you, but the baby as well. Now, I’m not telling you what you should or shouldn’t do. But if you want another baby, health wise, I would recommend that you do it sooner rather than later. ” Statistically, the longer I wait the more health problems I could encounter. Not to mention our egg supply decreases as we get older, and miscarriages are more common so the chances of conceiving while also carrying to full term drop significantly. But all of that aside, even if I was really considering doing this, how would I even go about it? As I walked out of the doctor's office that day this news, or technically an opinion, just seemed like another sign to me. Another nail.  “Okay. Well. One child it is then.”

One afternoon back at the end of January I was making my way through the Wal-Mart parking lot all frustrated that I had to make yet another stop before heading home. I was grabbing my list from the passenger's seat when I glanced up to my right, and there she was. Pushing a cart with her two little girls in tow, and a newborn in a car-seat. All smiles as she walked hand in hand with her husband. And I almost threw up. This is not my first encounter with her or with one of them, and it won't be my last. But that day when I saw the smiles; the happiness, the baby. I had a wave of jealousy wash over me that was completely unexpected. I’ve never reacted that way before. I grabbed what I needed, and then I quickly headed back outside into the comfort of my car. I took deep breaths. I turned the music up. And then I cried the entire drive home. That day is when I realized that I was still bitter. Still angry. You see, I did a lot of things "right". I got married, and then I had a baby. I went back to school and got my associates degree. I worked my ass off and provided for my family. I know I'm not completely innocent, and I didn’t make things easy. I know I can be a difficult person to get along with. However, I remained loyal through all of the good, and bad. I did what I was supposed to do. What I was brought up to do. And here was this woman, who had had an affair with my husband two years ago, and she was fucking smiling. She had her two little girls, a husband that held her hand as they walked up to the store, and the newest addition all wrapped up in a blue baby blanket. How could someone like her, who had done such a shitty thing, still get her happy ending? Why couldn’t I, who had done what I was supposed to do, have that? Why did she get everything? Why? Why? Why? Looking back, I’m not proud of the feelings that came over me or the thoughts that raced through my mind. I’m also a bit embarrassed that seeing her made me get really emotional. Though I was about to start my cycle so maybe that had something to do with it? That night after all of the tears were shed I remember standing in the shower reassuring myself that life had a plan. There was something else out there. And maybe having a big family just wasn’t in the cards for me. I’d have to start accepting that and move on, or I’d never be able to be happy. Since that day I’ve seen them again a handful of times, and I haven’t reacted the same way. No tears, no jealousy, or hate. I feel like I finally put that part of my story to rest. “It’s not fair, but that’s okay.”

Flash forward to a few weeks ago when a friend of mine had her baby boy, and I could feel the baby fever washing over me as I held him and changed him. My heart burst with so much joy for her. And she told me, “You can do it you know? You CAN have another one if you want.” I brought up all of the excuses from before, and simply stated that “I’ve run out of time.” You see, I spent so long thinking, "Well when my husband gets a job maybe then we can have another baby." Or "Well, maybe when we get all of his legal stuff taken care of we'll have some room financially to be able to afford having another child." Then it was "Well, maybe once we get passed all of this crap and get our marriage back on track we can expand our family." One year went by, and then five. Before I knew it I was thirty years old, and our situation wasn't any better. My dreams of having another baby just kept slipping farther, and farther away. As I sit here typing this up I can say that having to let go of this dream definitely hurts. Unfortunately, there’s nothing I can do about it. And believe me, there was a month not too long ago when I felt the desperation in such a way that I even entertained the idea of getting pregnant again by my soon-to-be ex-husband. It only would have happened with his consent, of course, I’m not THAT psycho, but I never got up the courage to ask him. Then, I even looked into possibly trying IVF or AI as possible alternatives. Now, I can see how the first of those options was kind of a bad idea especially with everything going on right now.  But the other two, after quite a bit of research, was too costly for me to even consider. So, I gave up."It’s time to let go."

Now, there’s no point in dwelling on this anymore than I already have. There's also no point in allowing the negative aspects to take over how I feel. Being a mom to an only child is just as much a blessing as having a house full of little ones. It’s a bit different, but we love no matter what. We soak up the moments, we kiss scraped knees, and we listen to their future plans of becoming princesses, artists, or even Geologists (her tia is so proud). No matter the size, or shape of our families the most important parts are that we love and that we are present. Recently, after a trip to visit family, she asked me if I were ever going to give her a sibling. This isn’t the first time she's asked me this, but this was the first time she shed a few tears at my answer. You see, for Christmas, she asked Santa for a little brother or sister. Then on the night before her birthday, she asked God “Please, can you make mommy pregnant so I can have a baby brother or sister, and we can grow up to be best friends?” And I think, after all of this time, that’s probably what hurts me the most. Not being able to give her that. I have a brother so I know what friendship she's asking for, and in a way, I know what she's missing out on. So, as we walked down the road hand in hand I explained a little bit about why mommy couldn’t have another baby.  Things were complicated, I was getting older, and sometimes families were small. Afterward, she reached up to hug me and said “It’s okay mommy. It’ll just be me, and you having adventures forever and ever.” I wrapped my arms around her, and held her tight. “You’re absolutely right baby.”

And THAT right there IS enough.

*all of the clipart in this post were found by doing a google search

Thoughts on Time Away

Back at the end of January, when I was doing all of my "discovery" and "baby steps", a friend of mine asked me if I wanted to go on a road-trip. I'd help them drive, see a few sights along the way, and then catch a flight back. I'd be gone a total of 3 days, and catch a flight back early on the 4th day. At first, I jumped at the offer. What could be more fun  than getting out of town for a few days? But then I started to think. I started to question whether this was even doable. Most people thought it was a great idea, but others gave me that "look". Parents get it a lot. You know, the one where the person is trying to figure out if they heard you correctly? It's usually followed by registration of your words, and then swiftly turns into a disapproving face and/or sigh. They'd always follow up this look with, "What about your daughter? You can't just go off on a vacation without her." But that's not all. When they would ask who I'd be going with, and I'd answer with a male friend that I've known since I was 17, I'd quickly get a: "You shouldn't do that." or "Just stay home, get a hotel room here, and have a staycation." So, eventually, after a lot of thought I declined the offer.

I felt really guilty for even considering the trip in the first place. Leaving my little behind for a few days was definitely not something I had ever considered before. Why would I start now? I honestly don't see how some parents can do it without feeling some amount of guilt. Practice maybe? My mother was the most vocal about her not being on board with the idea. "I never went anywhere without you or your brother. You shouldn't go anywhere without mija." Mind you this is the same woman who thinks it's perfectly acceptable for Emery to go with her and my dad on vacation without me (a post on that later). Still, I started to talk about this subject with a few of my acquaintances & friends. I talked to some who are moms, and some that are not. One woman told me that she, and her husband took vacations once a year by themselves. The kids stayed at the grandparents home for the week, and they went on vacation alone. But they also took yearly family vacations as well. Another woman, who was recently divorced, told me that I should do something spontaneous for myself and this trip was just what I needed. Who cared what others thought? My daughter would be in good hands, and it would only be three days. When I asked a relative about their opinion on the subject her response started with, "Well, it doesn't make you a bad mom but..." And that right there is what I had been fearing: being a bad mom. 

I think the thought of being considered a bad mom was what hit me the hardest out of everything. I had already failed as a wife, and I didn't want to fail at being a mother too. I was already going through a really rough time. The idea of going on a road-trip was so tempting. I was at a point where I just wanted to get away for a few days. Away from the drama, the daily routine, the responsibilities, the women (compliments of a small town), and the answers people would seek that I couldn't bring myself to give. I was tired, and being pulled internally towards many directions. My mind felt like it was running on empty, and there was barely anything left of me. I just wanted a break. But that word alone, break, leaves a bad taste in my mouth sometimes. I kept asking myself, "Who could possibly need a three or four day break from their kid?" I felt so guilty, and selfish for even wanting time to myself. For even considering something that didn't include my daughter. If I was having a rough time, I could only imagine how she felt. So, if she wasn't going to be coming with me then I might as well forget ever going anywhere.

My counselor, on many occasions has told me that I'm not JUST a mother. I'm not JUST a wife. He's stressed that I need to find MYSELF again if I ever want to be happy. If I ever want to move forward. I'm supposed to do things that I like, and try to be open to experiencing new things. BUT how do we do that when we have kids? When we have responsibilities? Jobs, and everyday life? How do you find yourself if you never get time to spend alone with yourself? Then during the times that you do find a moment people judge you extremely hard over it. I get how traveling with a male friend would raise some eyebrows, I get that. But all of this made me wonder why this same pressure, and guilt isn't placed on fathers?  B.A. (before the affairs- that's what I'm calling it) my spouse went on a handful of solo trips/ weekends with the boys. No one questioned it. No one asked him why he wasn't taking his daughter along. No one expressed to him that three days away was three days too many. It's as if it was expected of him. It was acceptable for him to have that time because he needed it. But what about us moms? Why is guilt placed on us for thinking of, or actually committing to some time away? Why is it that we get the "looks", and our love for our children is called into question? Why is it that our identity from before, once we become mothers, is expected to take a back seat?

For now the guilt is too much for me. I can't bring myself  to be away from my daughter for long periods of time. It's possible that as she gets older my feelings on this will change. That doesn't mean that I don't sometimes wish for space, or daydream of time alone. I really envy those out there that can take some time away. I wish I were as brave as you. Maybe that statement on it's own makes me a bad mom, I'm not sure? What I do know is that I'm trying to get my moments. Whether it's the solo drive home from work down the back roads. The five minutes of silence before the rest of the house wakes up in the morning. The few minutes I get at the gym when I'm on the treadmill. Because my daughter knows not to come that far forward since it's against gym rules. I just know that I'm trying. I'm trying to find ME again. I'm trying to be comfortable with separation, as well as closeness. I'm trying to enjoy the moments, however tiny they may be, and appreciate them. I'm trying to find out what my limits and boundaries are in regards to spending time away.

Not An Absent Mother, Just Not Always Focused

After re-reading this post I wrote last week, I realized that I came off as being an "absent mother". I assure you, I am not. I wrote that last post with a lot of emotion and realization going through me. I was FEELING like I was being an absent mother because I wasn't paying attention to the little things. Once a month I get REALLY REALLY emotional and that post just so happened to be written on that day. But today, after a few days of really thinking a bit more clearly and calmly I'd like to expand on that post a bit.

My daughter and I spend a lot of time together. When I'm not at work, or at school you will always find us together. And even now that doesn't seem like enough time together to me. However, my husband and I have entirely too much debt (gained while being young and dumb). This means I can't afford to be a stay at home mom like I would like to be. We also have to keep in mind that out of both of our jobs mine is the most secure, consistent, and the higher income of the two. So, for the most part our livelihood depends on me.

This has been a major stress factor in my life. I'm constantly on the go, and there's always SOMETHING that needs to done, worked on, or finished. There are days when I feel like I have entirely too much on my plate and it leads to some not so great personal moments. And often I seek a reprieve in the only way/access that I have: the internet. Whether it be on my phone, tablet, or computer I know that I spend a lot of time networking. Facebook, Instagram, Tumblr, and Blogger are my biggest addictions. I like reading people's posts, checking out online shops, or connecting with friends over Facebook. But I realized, in doing so, I was missing out on a lot of little moments my daughter was offering me.

I'm with her every day! I sit outside with her while she plays. I sit on the couch while she plays house. I accept her "teas" & "pizza". I'm at the table while she draws. I sit on the bathroom floor while she plays in the tub. That little beauty mark started out so tiny, and I knew it was there but I hadn't notice how it was more prominent now. So, I know that I'm there for it all! BUT I'M NOT. Looking back at many of those moments I can guarantee that 90% of the time I had my phone or tablet with me. I wasn't fully there, with her. I wasn't noticing how she explains WHAT she will draw before she draws it. Or how in order to get my attention she'd have to repeat herself several times. I was missing out on her little dances, and only listening to bits in pieces of her stories because I was too distracted. That, to me, is just unacceptable.

So this is why and what I want to change starting now. I want to put all of that "extra stuff" away. I want to ignore my phone, turn off my tablet, and let my laptop collect dust (when not in use for school). I want to pick up my camera again, and collect all of the memories I can get. I want to sit down and draw with my daughter. I want to give her my attention the moment "Mom" is uttered from her mouth. I want us to spend more time outside, exploring, painting and learning. I want to notice everything about her, and my family. With a little determination, I'm pretty sure I can get it done. And boy, do I feel good about this change.

A Lesson In Living In The Moment

Last Wednesday, I came across two things that grabbed my attention. This video, and this post by the lovely Sash last month that I just couldn't get out of my head. I highly recommend you read her blog since it's really...really good. Anyway, both of these things, though very different, sent a pretty similar message: Pay ATTENTION! Live in the NOW. Do things NOW. Look at life NOW. Put your distractions away, and live in the moment because it only happens once! 

Annnnnd that, my friends, is exactly what I plan to do starting this year. I've made a list of goals, pledges, & challenges for myself this year instead of resolutions. And at the top of that list is cutting back on my use of technology. As much as it pains me to say this, I've caught myself on several occasions missing out on things my daughter says or does because I was too busy posting on Instagram or catching up on my Facebook feed. All is good in moderation, but when your daughter has to repeat "MOM" over and over again before you realize she's talking to you, then you know it's bad. I literally cringed just now, thinking about it. As hard as it is to admit, and as painful as it is to realize, I'm guilty of this way too often.

Last weekend, I was sitting on the couch while Emery was playing with her doll house in my parents living room. I was sitting there when all of a sudden I just felt like something was missing, and whatever it was had to be really important because I was feeling almost depressed about it. I kept reassuring myself that it was nothing, and probably not that important is I couldn't remember. Then, I caught myself just staring at my daughter. There she was, my little baby, and I almost burst into tears. I felt my heart squeeze a little and for the first time in awhile it really hit me that time is not standing still. My baby is growing up. My baby is changing. I found myself sitting next to her, and studying her face. I asked her to look at me, and when she did I couldn't believe how much her features had changed. She still looked like my little baby, but at the same time she's didn't. You know, I see her every day and we sleep in the same bed, but it seemed like I hadn't really been SEEING her, if that makes any sense? She was changing and growing and I wasn't taking the time to really notice it. 

I couldn't for the life of me seem to process the subtle changes. I didn't want to accept that I hadn't noticed the tiniest little beauty mark had spring up at the corner of her mouth. Or that she really did stand like her father. Or that those baby cheeks, were almost completely gone! And I kept asking myself, "How in the world did you miss that?!?!" I mean, these things are huge! These are life changing. I sat there in disbelief for awhile; denial even. But those feelings were nothing compared to the shame and guilt that set in. I sat there on that living room floor and I was so angry that I let this happen. I let that time slip away from me. I put things off for my own selfish reasons. And when that realization hit me I was completely heartbroken. That is a feeling I never want to have again! I don't want to miss anymore of it.

Things are changing for us this year. I'm getting closer to my associates, and with that comes a change in plans. My daughter is growing up a little bit more every day, and I don't want to miss out on that! I only get it once. NOTHING should ever be more important than her. Everything else can, and will wait. So, after having that heartbreaking realization, and paired with those two attention grabbing posts, I felt like the universe was giving me a sign. A great big one. And lucky for me, time was on my side for once. I knew that I couldn't get back what I lost, but I could prevent myself from loosing anymore of it.

And that's why I'm challenging myself to limit my use of technology to just an hour or less a day, at the end of the day, and only once my daughter has fallen asleep. If I can do less, even better! Of course I can answer phone calls and text messages, but it must be kept short. Everything else is off limits until Emery is sound asleep. I need to start living in the moment. I need to start paying attention. And I need to start doing things NOW, while I still have the time. Because I only get this once...

"You just gotta appreciate everything. That's one of the most important things in life is just - really appreciating it because, we only get to do this once, and it's not for a long time so enjoy it." - Jay Moriarity

The Right Thing?

Lately, I’ve been asked by a few people if I think I’m doing the right thing by working, and going to school. I’ve been asked if I think this is the right thing for Emery. How can spending so much time away from her possibly be healthy for her? Don’t I feel bad for missing out on so much? How can I not possibly be overwhelmed? These are all very good questions that I ask myself almost every week. I have questioned myself about my decision to go back to school. I’ve wondered if I should really be doing this, especially with our current situation? And so far, I think that even though it’s tough, I am doing the right thing.

When I graduated high school, it wasn’t because I was excited to go off to college. In fact, I only rushed the process and graduated a month earlier because I was excited to go be with my boyfriend. In my mind, I always thought college could wait. I wanted to go off and see if I could make it on my own. To explore a different scenery. But as we all know, life happens, and my “put school off for a year” mentality turned into two years and then three. And before I knew it Emery was here and my main focus was to provide for her.

For a year after Emery was born my husband didn’t work. I was the sole provider for our family, and I worked in an AWFUL place for minimum wage. I kept getting passed up for promotions and raises, because the owner based his decisions on degrees rather than experience. It was then that I realized I needed to get my butt back in school. I know many people aren’t like my previous employer, but unfortunately many are exactly like him. The fall that I applied for financial aid and submitted my transcript, I was given a wonderful job offer that I just couldn't refuse.

Once school started, I was given the option of working out my own schedule. The first semesters were fine, but I was coming home LATE. I didn’t get to see my daughter for two full days during the week, except for when I crawled into bed. This semester, I’ve taken on a “heavier” load but I’m doing it earlier so I can BE home every afternoon. My schedule has become tighter and I have to be at work earlier than I normally would be if I weren't in school. But I have my husband, and my wonderful parents to help me out when it comes to Emery. It may not be the most normal “daily routine” for most moms, but for me it works. Besides, I only have two more semesters before I’m able to transfer to our local University. Once that happens I won’t have to miss so much work and I’ll be 20 minutes from home, making things a lot easier for everyone.

So, is this the right thing for Emery? I think so. I think in the long run, getting a degree will open doors for me that will in turn help us financially. Emery needs stability, and even though I know lay-offs happen, I think it’s nice to have something to fall back on. Especially when you have a family. How can spending so much time away from her be any good? It’s probably not. Lord knows I’ve shed tears here and there. I absolutely HATE being away from my baby, but right now she’s surrounded by family. People she knows and interacts with on a daily basis. Plus, I’d rather be doing this now while she’s still little than when she’s older and in school. I’d hate to miss out on plays, sports, or any other extra curricular because I had to be in class. Do I feel bad? Absolutely. But I know that I’m doing this for me just as much as I am for her. In the long run, this is the best decision for our family. And that's what's important.

Wonder Woman Isn't Coming

I want to start off by saying that Drea over at ohdeardrea is such a lovely and inspiring momma. She is such a strong woman, and fully embraces life. I always leave her blog feeling inspired by her writing, and grateful. If you’ve never read her blog, you should go check it out.

Seriously, I can wait...

Sex Talk

Now that I got your attention. I’m just going to flat out ask:

Any other ladies out there having any kind of  issue with climaxing, 

after having a baby??

Now, I don’t want this to come out like bragging or anything, but before Emery there was A LOT of sex being had. I’m talkin more than once a day and several days out of the week. Yea....it was a lot. Seriously we were like bunnies. Annnnnnnnnnnnnd then I got pregnant.

During my pregnancy sex wasn’t something I could physically manage at first. I was puking EVERYWHERE. Any little thing set me off. And any sudden, bouncy, rocking-like movements had chunks flyin’. So, even when we attempted to get down and dirty, I was a flight risk for throwing up. I may or may not have had to call “time-out” a few times to make a break for the bathroom on more than one occasion. It didn't bother us too much at first, because I was always sick. Then thankfully, towards the end, the excuse of having a human growing inside of me usually sufficed when I wanted a pass on sex. If you’ve ever been pregnant before, you know that sometimes you just don’t want to be near the object which landed you in your current impregnated state. Alas, going from bunnies to “if your lucky, once a week” for my hubby was kind of devastating.

Then, I finally had Emery and eight weeks later we got the go head to pounce on each other to our hearts content. Unfortunately, something wasn’t quite right. For me anyways. I was taking FOREVER. Every. Single. Time. I’m talking forty five minutes to an hour. I talked to my doctor and I was told this was normal for some women; just give it time. Well, it’s been 2 years now and I’m still taking forever. What’s wrong with forever you ask? We have a two year old, that’s what wrong! Sometime we don’t have the luxury of getting to take our time. "Wham! Bam! Thank you Ma’am" is usually the time frame we get to work with. And now that Emery’s in her toddler bed (instead of a crib), our room is no longer a sacred "adult place". She can now randomly make her way to our room and onto our bed whenever she pleases all hours of the night. Trust me, it’s happened. Thank GOD for darkness.

So, after this little mishap, I asked my good ole doc her opinion as to what was going on. Can I be fixed? Is there a way to get my youthful stamina back? My previous ability to have a quickie, would be greatly appreciated. And this is what I got:

“Sometimes after a woman gives birth she may lose sensitivity and it takes a much longer time to produce an orgasm. This is usually caused by the vagina not being as tight as it was before due to giving birth. Other times, it’s the completely opposite and women are able to have multiple orgasms every time. And then there are those that do not experience a change. But from what you’re telling me, it seems like your body has lost some sensitivity.”

Great! Just freakin great. This is not what I wanted to hear. I miss my bunny years people! And my husband, on more than one occasion, has voiced his concerns and nostalgia for those years as well. So, I asked if there was a way to fix me. Unfortunately there’s no crème or pill I can pop because there, in fact, is nothing wrong with me. My vagina just isn't cooperating with me. So, it all comes down to kegels. As if I didn't have enough of those during pregnancy. The doctor said so long as I do the “exercises” I should be able to return to my previous “bunny years”. So now I’d just like to know if anyone else has experienced this? Cus I’m feelin’ kind of lonely and awkward here.

2 Going On 16

I love my kid. I really really do. But lately, she’s been quite annoying. *gasp* Yea, I said it. It’s been constant whaling over nothing. More kicking, screaming, and hitting than I can seem to handle. And defiant to the very end. Compliments of the Terrible two’s I suppose. It’s like one day I had a perfectly content and obedient child, and then BAM! Rebellious teenager with a major attitude problem and a knack for hitting. She so smart too. She picks up on everything. There are times when I get my exact words fed right back to me. I think that's what's most irritating about the entire ordeal. When we're trying to discipline and she turns it right back around on us. Then she cocks her head to the side and smiles like she's done nothing wrong. My husband and I are usually left wondering whether we should be proud of her growing vocabulary or infuriated with the tone she recites them in?

For now, I'm hoping that this is her testing our limits. I'm hoping to believe that it is just a phase "every kid goes through". And I'm praying that once she sees that we're not letting up on being firm and strict with her at home that she’ll eventually start to settle down. Until then, wish me luck.

Cough, Cough

Ok, so last week, Emery got sick. She was vomiting and running a fever pretty much all night. So, I stayed home from work on Tuesday to take care of her. By Wednesday afternoon she was completely over it. Well, then my Uncle got sick on Wednesday followed by me Thursday night, and my husband and mom on Saturday. Yea, it was so much fun, let me tell you. Eh. Thankfully, it came on fast, and left just as quickly (it only lasted about 24-hours). So, most of my time was spent either in bed, or taking care of someone in bed all while still doing every day chores. Super Mom! I didn't get a lot of chances to post, and this week, I might be a little off too. 

I spent a good part of last week, doing nothing but catching up on Vampire Diaries on Netflix while we were all sick. My mother helped me keep up with laundry, but the house is back to being a mess. Fortunately for me, I get a four day weekend, so I plan to fully take advantage of it! I’m hoping to get some painting done too!! The inside of our house needs it, bad. So, that will be my project, starting Thursday! Woot woot! Now, I’m off to go study for these exams. I’ll update more later! 

More Time

I’ve been talking about making some changes in my life lately. And I’ve been trying to really see what all I’m spending my time on, aside from work and school. I realized that a lot of it is spent doing homework, catching up on TV shows, creating a blog post, and sleep. For me, this is very very wrong.

I’m sure that it’s perfectly ok to let Emery watch 15-20 minutes of Sprout TV while I’m trying to do some extra chores or get ready for work. But lately, I haven’t really been spending quality time with her. Yes, I see her every day. We play and goof around. We go outside and play with her toys. And while I’m studying, she’ll set up “camp” next to me with her little notebook and map colors. But I feel like it’s just not as much time as I should be spending with her. Sometimes, when I get home I either start on homework, or my mom asks to take Em for a walk or give her a bath. I usually let her take Emery, and I spend about an hour catching up on any recorded shows or creating a post.  I feel like this needs to stop.

I need to start spending more time with my baby girl. I’ve been so caught up in “catching up” and watching TV before bed time that I probably should spend reading that extra bed time story. Or taking her outside and letting her walk around like we used to. With school, I just kind of got a little overwhelmed this first month, and now that I’m getting my routine more set, I feel like I should take that extra step to spend more time with my family. With my baby.

This will probably mean less posts. Twice a week maybe? Special occasions? I’m not really sure. I just feel like I’m taking a lot of quality time for granted. Not to mention I haven’t worked out in two weeks so I feel like I’m getting all sluggish and lazy. I need to get my energy back on track. I need to be more focused. This means the TV will be turned off more, and I’ll be spending less time on the internet. I really need this. It’s just part of being a good wife and mommy. For me anyway. This feels like another good step in the right direction though! 

p.s. It looks like we will be getting

another vehicle. Hopefully by Monday.

This weekend I'll be out looking again.

Wish me luck!

Confession Time - Frustrations

I’m not one to get really frustrated easily. I usually try to laugh things off, or find the humor in things. Because, for lack of better words, shit happens! It’s best to find a solution instead of getting pissed off, go into an unnecessary panic attack, and still be in the exact same position you were in to start with. Now, I haven’t always been like this, but I find it’s a positive change. Still, sometimes frustration is unavoidable. And even worse, it can sometimes be caused by your own kid.

My daughter is a blessing, and I love her with all of my heart. She is the air I breathe and the reason why I keep going every day. She brings such joy to our lives, and we are completely in love with her. We wouldn’t trade her for the world, and I am so excited to have been chosen to be her mother. With that said, she can also be one of the biggest brats I’ve ever seen. Ok maybe not the biggest, I have seen Toddlers and Tiara’s after all. But man could she give some of those kids a run for their money. No lie. Usually she gets like this when she’s tired or hungry. But recently she’s been acting up a lot more, and over things she really shouldn’t. She can’t really talk back, but she will yell back. She’ll bite you just because she thinks it’s funny to hear you scream. If you don’t let her hold things by herself she freaks out! She’s started to throw herself onto the floor, and she’ll do things she's not supposed to as you’re telling her no.

Last Sunday, due to lack of sleep, I really wasn’t in the mood to handle bratty behavior. But that’s usually about the time it’ll pop up. After a long day of her throwing things and screaming I finally sat her down for some dinner. I had her cup along with her food, and we sat down on the bed because her highchair was still next door. She asked for her water and I gave it to her. She tried to flip it and I said no. She tried to hit me. I smacked her little hand and she started crying. Then laughing. I proceeded to give her some food when she dodged the fork, reached for the cup and flipped it. Water went everywhere. Instead of yelling or getting mad I handed my husband the bowel, and walked out of the room. He fed her with no problems. She was as happy as a clam.

Sometimes, I ask myself “Why does she do that?” Because this is NOT the first time she’s done stuff like this. We do give spankings, and I say no all of the time. Sternly. She’s too little to know what “time out” is so I don’t even attempt that. And no matter how I try to discipline her she doesn’t really take me seriously. But when her father tells her something you can bet she listens. This gets to be a little frustrating when her father’s not around to say “Listen to your mother or you’re gunna get a spankin.” I have no idea where she’s learning this stuff either?! Throwing herself? Biting? I guess it could be the other little girl that the sitter takes care of? But I’ve asked our sitter to spank Emery if she acts up so unless she’s not following through with that I don’t know why Em thinks this type of behavior is ok?

I’m not really sure how to nip her little attitude in the bud. Maybe she’s just hitting the “terrible two’s” early, with force? Still, it can wear me out. I usually feel pretty guilty for letting myself get frustrated though. There are so many parents out there that would love to be dealing with this, but can’t. I don’t take these moments for granted, at all, and I don’t think it’s a question about whether we love her or not. I just don’t want to be that family that goes out and their kid is screaming or throwing things the whole time because they let them do whatever they want. Unfortunately, I may not have a choice?

A Little Lost (Part III): This is...Me?

Who are you?

Yea, I don’t know who I am anymore. Somewhere along the “path of life”, I fell off a damn cliff into a deep ass ravine and have slowly been trying to climb my way back out ever since. With no luck. This has not been an easy nor fun journey for me. At all. I’m kicking myself for not knowing the signs. When did this happen? When did I change so drastically? Yes, pregnancy sucked and becoming a mother changes you. But does it really go this far? Or is this what growing up really feels like? Losing so much of you on your way to adulthood?

I don’t know if I like music? I don’t know if I like concerts? Tattoos? Piercings? Do I even like books still? What about having fun? Do I even know what that is? Oh! And makeup? Do I still like that? Because from the looks of me, you’d think I didn’t know what mascara was. And these are just the small things! I have no idea if I’m happy or unhappy? Am I wanting to still fight or do I want to give up? Do I go to school or wait? Do I even want a career in what I’m thinking of going for? Friends? Do I want friends? Will I make friends? Or will my only contact be Emery? Was that really a feeling or am I so numb I can’t tell? Do I even care?

I am so messed up right now! I say that with enthusiasm too. Because everything is so out of whack for me right now. I don’t know what I want, or what I don’t like. I feel like I’m just a damn shell. I’m on auto-pilot. An out of body experience maybe? I have no idea how to feel or what to do. This is so frustrating to me! I was supposed to grow up and do something with myself. I was supposed to be so sure and secure with myself. Such a strong independent woman, Raquel. But she is nowhere to be found.

Just writing this makes me feel so twisted and uncomfortable. I feel like my body should be tangled up into a ball to match my emotions. It’s not depression. I’ve been there, and that was an ugly mess. Plus, the feelings of self-harm aren’t there like when I was depressed. Those scars are a constant reminder of what depressed is, and I’m not there. At least I don’t think I am. I mean, unless there are different levels of depression (kind of like different levels of hot sauce: Mild, Spicy, and Hot), I’m definitely not there yet. I’m just here. My body is here. My mind is racing and it refuses to stop. Even my dreams are related to whatever it is I’m thinking about all day. Divorce, happily ever after, changes, California, being a bad mother, losing my child, or being free of all these emotions. I wake up every morning with a headache. It’s like I don’t get any rest, just more thoughts. More worries. More feelings. I fucking HATE feelings. Seriously, who needs them? Ok, scratch that. If I had no feelings, I wouldn’t know the love I have for my daughter. And believe me when I say she is my soul mate. She is the air to me. When I’m with her, everything fades out and I just enjoy being. I don’t think about anything else but her giggles and her curiosity. Watching her discover new things, is a thousand times better than any TV show.

So why is it that after having her, my world feels like it was put in a blender? Why is it that after having her, she is the only thing that I’m certain of? I may not know me anymore, but I know her. I know that she is real and that my purpose in life is to be a good mother to her. But am I even doing that? My paranoia and fear of failure are literally making me sick. My gosh, I am really messed up. I bet this post doesn’t even make sense...? It just goes and goes at random, huh?

THIS IS WHAT MY HEAD IS FILLED WITH WHEN I’M NOT AROUND MY DAUGHTER.

It’s not postpartum, because fuck it’s been a year and a half. Plus, I love my baby girl and I’m happy when I’m around her. So what is wrong with me? Why am I so confused? Why does my life feel so upside down? Why can’t I answer this simple question: “Who are you?” I have no idea who I am. I have no answers, and I have no idea where to even begin to find them!

Ugh! I piss myself off. 

A Little Lost (Part I): Motherhood

Crap.

Things aren't supposed to be so hard. Growing up shouldn’t be such a pain. Emotions should not hit so hard. And yet, they are. I’m twenty-three years old, and I feel so ancient. I have no identity anymore. My life consists of drop off at the babysitter's, work, home, run, shower, and sleep. Those are the MAIN things. Giving my daughter a bath, going for bike rides, or walks and bringing her along are the HIGHLIGHTS of my day. WHERE THE FUCK DID I GO?! Seriously, I don’t really interact with other people because I have no idea what all the “young-hip-cool kids” do anymore? If it’s not about milestones, marriage, diapers, potty training, pacifiers, or the latest heart attack Em gives me, I HAVE NOTHING TO TALK ABOUT.

When I got pregnant, things changed for me. They change for every mother, some more drastic than others. I was now growing a human being inside of me. I was now responsible for another person. This little person would call me her mother. I didn’t know the first thing about being a mother! Anxiety, paranoia, and fear took over. Guys don’t seem to get that connection. They don’t get the changes you go through. The motherly emotions that all of a sudden hit you a thousand times harder than before. All of a sudden you’re different. You’ve switched over, and there is no turning back. With some moms, this can slightly wear off and you can go back to being your semi-normal self after you deliver. But with some moms, moms like me, you're completely changed forever.

So here's a straight-up question: How do you not feel guilty about being selfish? I know nothing besides my job and my daughter. If you look at it, this is probably one of the reasons why my marriage is constantly going down the shitter. I can’t for the life of me, get away. I don’t see my daughter enough as it is, so when I get home from work, she has my full attention. On weekends, I’m hers completely. I don’t have time for friends, and parties. And I absolutely HATE asking for a sitter (especially if it’s repeatedly). On the slight chance that I do go out, I worry about coming home too late. I worry about whether or not I packed enough diapers. Is she giving my mom a hard time? Is my mom upset that I ask her to babysit too much? Am I neglecting my daughter too much for my own personal selfishness? What if we drink too much and get pulled over? What if something happens to Em and I’m not there? Literally, I could go on and on. My mind does not shut off when it comes to my baby. So, I end up not enjoying myself. I end up ruining the “good time” my husband thinks we deserve.

This drives him insane. But what drives me insane is how he doesn’t worry just as much as I do? I mean, how can you go through life so caught up in yourself, that you don’t have time for your kids? I feel like society tells you that you need “time for yourself”. They tell you that “you need a break”. So you listen to them so you won’t feel guilty. Well, I say if that’s the case then maybe you don’t need to have kids so soon? It’s just an opinion, not knocking any lifestyles. I understand getting some “alone time” with the spouse. Or even planning a weekend without the kiddos every few months. Kind of a way to recharge your batteries, or turn your brain off. But, I don’t get how people do it EVERY weekend? I don’t get how our social lives even take importance? I feel so guilty for even thinking about doing anything that I can’t take my daughter along for. And that’s my life.

I’m wondering how can I ever possibly let go? How can I tell my daughter one day that I survived being her mother but only because I had “me time”? How can I tell my husband that I’m ok with leaving my daughter with her grandparents so we can have a night out, when all I’m thinking about is getting back to my daughter? I look at her face, and I want her to be raised in a loving family. I want her to never doubt that she’s the number one priority. I want her to know that I will always be there. Because there’s only so many “tomorrows” before there won’t be anymore. And I don’t want to miss a single second of my baby girl.

I Want To Go To Bed!

I need lots and lots of sleep. Maybe a week's worth? Ooohh! Or maybe if we could have a “refresh” button!? That’d be nice. But seriously, I’d like to know when this feeling of being tired all of the time goes away? I used to party and stay out all night, only to wake up the next day at 7 am and be ready for the day by 8 am. Hair done, make-up on, dressed, and ready to go. Now, I can’t even find the time to straighten my hair!! I struggle to climb out of bed at 6 am. Literally, I’ll turn the alarm clock off, and flip over groaning the entire time. Sometimes I even go back to sleep (oops!) and I’ll end up scrambling trying to not be late for work! I absolutely hate it! It really should not be this hard! It’s not depression, because I’m not depressed. And I get plenty of sleep I think. So I would really like for this to stop now, please?

They say to exercise. Well, I run 3-4 times a week, and all that does is make me feel even more sleepy. They say to take vitamins, so I take a multi one. They say to go to bed early, we are usually in bed by 9; asleep by 9:30. So that’s a little more than 8 hours of sleep, that they say we need right?  So why is it that by the time 1 pm hits, I’m ready to be back in bed? To lay down on the softest surface I can find, and catch a few Zzz’s? I hate this tired feeling! I feel like I’m not all there, sometimes because I’m too tired. I feel so lazy. I would like for my old “youthfulness” to return. Now, please?

I’m 23 for crying out loud! I shouldn’t be this tired! I should be up and ready by 6 am, alert and bright-eyed. Ready to face the world, and be super mom. I should still be kicking by 8 pm, not crawling into bed. And yet, as I write this, I’m picturing a nice California King sized bed with lots of pillows, in a dark room, with the A/C on, and a huge fleece blanket!! Ahh, it’s just calling my name!! 

–squee-

Isn’t that sad? How excited I get over that; a bed? Pathetic! I should be that excited about alone time with the hubby, and yet most of the time we BOTH use that time to fit in a nap. How sad, huh? So how can I fix this? How can I turn back that inner “teenage clock”? Because you’d think that crazy lifestyle and those weird hours, with maybe at most 5 hours of sleep in between, would be to my advantage as a mother...?? My once upon a time “Sleep is for the weak” mentality is totally failing me at 23. And quite frankly, this just annoys me.  

Cry It Out

 More Like SCREAM BLOODY MURDER!

OK, I've been reading a lot of different blogs that advocate the “Cry It Out” method for sleep time. And this sounds, lovely. I mean, to be able to have our own bed back would be auh-mazing! To not get kicks to the head because somehow my daughter miraculously turned herself around would be fantastic on a level you couldn’t even imagine (or some of you can)!! But here’s my problem- SHE CRIES SCREAMS!! It's not just these little-muffled cries, I’m talking about screams! She hates being in her crib. It's like she's terrified of being alone. I’ve left her in there for 30 minutes and I kid you not that little monster NEVER stopped crying screaming. She paused TWICE just to catch her breath. And it's hard to tell the difference between her angry screams and her terrified screams because they're pretty much the same. So what am I doing wrong people?

I know I probably should not have “co-slept” due to the SIDS risk, but breastfeeding was so much easier like that! And in my defense, I hardly knew anything about SIDS then. –Yes, I know, shame on me.- I’m sorry! I woke up at every little move Em made and I always slept with no pillow and only one sheet (which was kept at my waist for the most part). Once it got cold, Em was put in one of those swaddling suits and slept on top of the covers on her back. So I should get some brownie points for that, no? And now, I’m sidetracking...

Anywho, I’ve been trying to let her cry scream, but it gets to be too much. And that face! O..m...g the face she makes is like you completely broke her heart which is something we as parents aren't supposed to do, right? We're supposed to want to prevent heartbreaks, right? I try to not look at her when she’s crying screaming but sometimes after about 20 minutes it sounds like she’s heaving so I peek, and then I’m a goner. My weakness, I guess. Then, if we finally get her to sleep and put her in her crib, she wakes up at some random hour and she’ll start crying. We keep a night light on, but even if we wait a few minutes her cries don’t dwindle down like most babies, they get higher. And I don’t know about you, but a child crying very loudly at 2:45 am is the LAST thing you want to deal with. And I’m sure my brother (who has to wake up at 4 am) and my husband (who has to be up at 5 am) really don’t want to be awakened by a screaming child. So, I pick her up and bring her to bed with me. She falls right to sleep and doesn’t wake up again till 6 am when it’s time for us to get up for the day. But get this, if I let her sleep with us, she’s out from 8 pm till 6 am (unless she’s sick or she falls asleep earlier than 8 pm).

So what should I do? Keep trying the CIO method and pray that somehow she starts to self-soothe? This will have me waking up throughout the night because now that I am up to speed on SIDS, I worry way too much. I peak in to see if she’s not on her tummy if her paci’s still in her mouth, and I get eye level with her mattress to make sure I can see her breathing. -Yup, I’m that mother.- So, in that time between 8 pm and the random hour of 2:45 am I can’t sleep comfortably because I’m waking up to constantly check on her. Or should I continue as is and just deal with the kicks? Because that seems to be the only way I can get a somewhat good nights sleep. But in the end, it will lead to some more difficult times ahead once she gets older and does have to sleep in her own bed...?

Oh, decisions, decisions.

Loss Blogs

I stumbled across this blog via Top Mommy Blogs it was called, Four Plus An Angel. I was moved by her attitude and by her story. I felt like, she had to be one of the strongest mothers out there, to have this happen and come out "ok" (you never forget but life must continue). So I started looking around and I came across another loss blog, Nicholas' Touch, and I was literally crying in my cubical on my lunch break. And then I would click on another site, and read another mother's story of loss, and I was in tears all over again! There are so many of you! Some of you lost children recently, some not so recently. And it breaks my heart! I'm sure these blogs that I read are just the tip of the iceberg! There are hundreds (thousands) more of you out there. And I have no idea how you women do it?! I would wish that loss on no one. I can't say that I personally know how you feel, because I have not lost a child. But I can imagine that it would be a thousand times more painful than anything I have felt. And so today, I just wanted to tell all of you:

I am so sorry for your loss. I will pray for you, and for your families. I pray that GOD help you through this, and bring healing into your hearts. However long it takes. And I know that all of your little ones are in heaven, and in your hearts. I pray that you take some (even if it's just a tiny bit) comfort in knowing that.