Burn Out...

I have GOT to get over this. I am so cranky. I am so sick of my children. And they aren't even being that difficult.

*waaah*

I'm tired.

I'm burnt out and grumpy.

Angelina Jolie...Parenting 6 littles is "easy"

I came across this article, and it runkled me.
And I quote:

It’s easy when they’re small, she says, and don’t require much emotional
support. But as they get older, “they’re going to need a lot more talking in the
middle of the night, like I did with my mom for hours. We want to make sure we
don’t build a family so big that we don’t have absolutely enough time to raise
them each really well.”

What PLANET is the woman living on?

Okay I certainly shouldn't be surprised by this. It is Angelina Jolie for crying out loud. It's just so sad to me because this is the predominant mindset in our culture: that children "don't [or shouldn't] take much when they're little." Or that if you're a good parent your kids don't take much from you, at any stage.

And I think this mindset sets a lot of new parents up for convenience parenting. which bottom line, is neglect.

Now I'm not saying a parent has to do a, b, and c to be a "good" parent. But I do think our cultural mindset that "when they are little it is easy" should make us pause.

Easy why? Easy how?

We do children a big mis-servce (and even some extensive damage) when we view them as these little automatons until they hit their teens. Instead of individual unique people. People with very real needs and feelings.

I won't go into the neglect and abuses the babies and children in our culture endure.

But I do want to ask why this mindset that the teen years are "so hard", and take up so much time? Yes the teen years are full of change. It is intense. But why harder work? Different work, but parenting is always work.

I think the change could be compared quite closely to that of toddlerhood. The toddler is no longer a baby. But lacks the emotional and physical skills of a child. The toddler is developing fine and gross motor skills, as well as discovering the boundaries of life.

While Teens are no longer children. They still lacks the emotional and physical freedom of an adult. The Teen is transitioning into more responsibility and making decisions about the direction their life will take. Finding the balance as the boundaries slowly change as the young adult matures and is ready to leave the nest.

Both these transitions take a LOT of energy and work!

I'm not come to any other conclusions in this post. I haven't parented long enough to. But I will say that I wonder if you parent your children consistently all along. Especially in the early years giving lots of time building a strong connection and bond...Maybe the teen years won't be as much drama and conflict as you envision?

Bottom line, if parenting six small children is "easy", I need a few good nannies.

:0.

TMI But I'm Celebrating!

This is a silly TMI little tidbit to celebrate. I have officially been not-pregnant longer than I was after Riley (if you catch my drift)!!!!!!! Relief.

My goal is to get to 12mos with out getting preggo, after that I'd prefer to wait until we have the option of a second bedroom (co-sleeping/room sharing with 3 kids, would not be ideal for us).

I know that may seem like an odd thing to celebrate. But having been blind sided with an unexpected pregnancy on top of the fact that pregnancy is REALLY REALLY rough on my body. Well a full year with out being pregnant would be so welcome. I feel like my body is JUST starting to fully recover from Amity's birth. I can now sit on hard surfaces with no pain (it took a long time). I'm only about 10lbs from my pre-pregnancy weight (and with a 70lb weight gain I'm so thrilled with this fact). And even with the extra weight I'm carrying I'm in the best shape of my life: running my first 5k in about 2 weeks. And feeling really good about the kinds of foods I'm enjoying.

After a looong 75 day cycle (but only a 8 day luteal phase so I guess I'm not really fertile yet) I'm NOT pregnant!

Happy Dance.

Now off to put a heating pad on my back for some reason I'm getting nasty cramps there: never had that before: makes carrying the baby miserable.

Processing. Morning Sickness, Motherhood.

I'm not sure how to Title this post.

My cousin is expecting her first baby. I am SO excited for her and her hubby. Finally!! Another person in my family to have kids, yay!

She's suffering through morning sickness right now and she was apologizing for complaining. And I was thinking back to those hours of retching up nothing and not being able to swallow any thing with out gagging. Orange gatorade, saltines and ginger gum. Week after week. It was the most miserable thing I have ever experienced (thankully not as extreme with my second!). And I just kept telling myself "this is a good sign. there's a baby at the other end of this."

And it continued for months. I got a brief hiatus for a month or two and then it returned. But on top of it was gut wrenching soul killing PAIN like nothing else (seriously childbirth isn't even as bad as that pain was!). Gall bladder attacks. dun dun duuuuuh. Misery.

But I didn't know what the problem was. My MW said it was probably a "hiatal hernia" and that it would go away when the baby was born and try to eat small meals (I was!).

Then the day finally arrived, I was in labor! I was finally going to have my baby and be DONE with the sickness. FINALLY 9 long months of dry heaving, gagging...you get it, it was not good. My baby would be worth all of that!

And then the traumatic birth. And I didn't feel like...like I thought I would. She was my baby. But seriously, this was what I went through 9mos of torture for?

And then on top of all the breastfeeding drama (oh the challenges!), the pain returned. I remember carrying my 3 week old infant into the doctors office and telling him what was up. That I was up for hours at night barfing and in pain. But the pain wasn't in the right place for gall bladder (looking back we think because the pregnancy + c/s moved things around a bit). And the pain also presented in this searing burning in my sternum. He sent me home with prilosec (which I later discovered was NOT compatible with breastfeeding ergh!), and it did nothing.

But I was in a fog. I was overwhelmed. I had a fussy high needs newborn on me 24/7 and I was so sleep deprived and out of it I didn't know which was was up. When she was 10 weeks old I finally caved and went to the ER. My liver was in trouble. My enzyme counts were up over 1,000 (normal is between 7-40). They admitted me. Week of hell. Thankfully the hospital allowed Ryan to room in with me so Riley could be near me and nurse. We learned to nurse that week, it just clicked. And being forced into the cotton hospital gown all week healed my nipples. So some good things came out of it. I had two surgeries that week and then the day after my gall bladder was removed I came down with a 104.5 fever (REALLY high for me as my normal temp is 96.7). More tests, blood cultures, blood drawn constantly it felt like. Nasty mean nurse sticking things up my nose and down my throat while I was delirious.

Diagnosis? Flu. I must have picked it up in the ER. I wasn't allowed to leave until my fever was broken. Nightmare.

I got home from that week, I bounced back fairly quickly. But it just seemed so unfair. I went through almost a year of hell to get my baby here safely...For what? To greet her in a busy crowded recovery room after she was cut out of me. To endure nursing issues, illness and then just plain fussy baby who didn't seem to like me.

Unfair. I had prepared so hard. Being a Mom was what I always wanted to do. Why me?

Anyway, back to my point (or the origional subject?):I responded to my cousins comment. I told her she had every right to complain. Morning sickness is one of the most miserable things to endure, especially when you don't know when or if it will end. It's like torture. But then I said "but the baby on the other end..! <3"

And I flashed back to what that meant to me. And then I flashed to now, who I am. Who my little Valiant Joy made me. How God has used her to shape me. How she challenges me. But OH how thankful I am for her!! She's taught me to be brave. To find my voice and stick to my guns. To speak what I feel regardless of what people might say back. I can now honestly say, she was truly worth the hell I went through.

Tonight she pinched her finger and she reached for me. She laid sobbing on my chest asking me to kiss her finger multiple times. Broke my heart. But as her little face looked up to me, and I looked into her gorgeous eyes, I just wanted squeeze her. And thank her. And love her. And tell her what she means to me. She's made of tough stuff! She fits every description of "more" that Dr. Sears mentions in his Fussy Baby Book ...But she had to, to be my first. For God to peel back my pride and "this is how it is"'s and show me how HE was calling me to parent.

Maybe this is a bit of a rabbit trail. But I've been thinking about how stinken hard it is being a First Time Mom. And the really unfair irony of it is that you are ALWAYS a first-time Mom. Every age and stage for every child is new. Just because you raised one doesn't mean you've seen it all. I'm finding with my second that I feel like the more (we'll see...) kids I have the LESS I feel like I know! I'm just feeling this out, and I'm glad Riley is made of stuff that will survive all that.

Okay to return, and in closing. So Riley's gestation and all that stuff was so hard. And still struggle with envy (and confusion) when people say that they love being pregnant. And how wonderful childbirth was for them with their first. It stings. And I feel such camaraderie whenever some one says they are suffering from morning sickness. To validate their frustration and misery to every depth. Because it really makes you feel weak. Like your body is punking out on you. At least it did for me. But I think I'm finally getting to the place where I'm more thankful than envious. Slowly but surely Riley's pregnancy, birth, and first year don't leave such a bitter taste in my mouth (though I'll never ever be able to drink organge gatorade with out wanting to gag). As you can see from the posts this week, I'm kinda coming around a bend- or to the top of a hill- and I'm seeing. "Ooooooh".

I'm excited to see where the rest of these relizations go!

So Not PC

But I can't resist sharing THIS.

Have to say: breastfeeding the first few weeks IS a lot of work. Or at least it was for me. Especially the first time it IS a huge adjustment. When your pregnant you are gradually lead into sharing your body. First you feel the flutters, then the kicks, then the rolls, and eventually your sharing so much of your body you're desperate to get baby OUT. Then you finally do, you're holding your delicious baby. And your body is still being shared, baby is still fully (in it's mind) part of you.
On top of baby needing you, your body is sore from delivery, and that starts to feel a bit better but then your milk comes in and your sore. The first 2 weeks it seems like some thing new hurts every day. And then your body starts to feel more normal. But the baby keeps going.

What Mom's need to hear in the midst of this (or what I wish I had heard from a veteran mom!):

You're doing awesome. It gets so much better. One day a few weeks down the road, you'll wake up and realize you feel rested. You'll realize that the latching and the snuggling are second nature. RELAX! It doesn't have to look a certain way! Snuggle your baby close do what Mother's have done for thousands of years: one with their babies. They held them close, kept them close revelled in the oneness. It takes time to learn to live with your baby on the outside. Ask for help when you need some space. But enjoy your baby.

I never formula fed. But I gotta say after the first big growth spurt at 3 weeks (which was when my oversupply started to even out a leetle) breasteeding was SO easy with my second! I mean I felt so rested (for having a newborn)! I kept scratching my head wondering when the real zombie-land was going to come. It did come around 4-6mos when she started getting ready to crawl. And now again she's learning to walk and boy am I tired. I've actually been thinking about getting my thyroid checked. But then I remember how restless Amity is and think...I'll hold off until she's walking. Oh the joys of those big milestones!

The author of that little post does make a good point. With as unstable as the world is today breastfeeding is the safest option. I remember hearing that after Hurricane Katrina they had aide workers down there working with Mom's helping them relactate because formula was just too dangerous because water was limited. If some natural disaster (or other war-like disaster) were to hit the nursing mothers are prepared. Just a thought.

A friend shared that on facebook and I decided not to post there...I didn't feel like drama. But had to share some where, it made me smile. I will add (just to be a bit pc?) that I've known Mamas who've taken premixed forumla in a warmer to bed for baby's night feeding and they co-slept just fine. But that still does require more dishes and preperation (ie work). Than just popping your breast in babys mouth and falling back to sleep. :0)

Grief...Breastfeeding...Healing.

Grief, hard stuff, loss. It's an inescapable part of life. Sad things happen.

But I think it's even more sad when it's some thing that happened because of misinformation and bad advice.

This post on dr. mama made me happy and sad. It's so true. My Grandmother nursed my Mother for 3 months and then stopped because her doctor told her the milk went bad. She had 5 more children and I don't think she nursed any of them more than a few weeks.

I wish I could say what breastfeeding has meant to me. It has taught me more about myself than I knew any thing could. I remember feeling such failure after my first was born. I had dreamed of an intervention free birth. I had looked forwards to months of the first moments after she arrived, holding her near me feeling her. I remember saying to my MW that if at all possible I didn't want my baby away for me for any thing at the hospital. I wanted be there for all her first moments. Instead I was laying on a table unable to see her until she had been put through a conveyor belt of clamping, suction, stamping, rubbing, wrapping and she was brought over me. This little cocoon with a squinchy face. I couldn't even touch her because my hands were tied down. I wanted to say "I'm sorry, I would be with you if I could. I want to hold you to my heart and make you feel safe."

First time to see my baby.

That was a moment that I'll never get back. Where was I going with this? Oh yes, breastfeeding.

I remember our first feeding. I was very curious to know what it would feel like. I had to nurse her pretty much flat on my back because of the surgery. I remember the recovery nurse coming over and telling me to keep my arm straight because it was messing up my blood pressure reading. I just wanted to be in a bubble, for the world to go away so I could meet this baby. I don't know if I've ever said this, but I did kinda feel like I needed to soak her up: I was scared I didn't know she was mine. The fact that she had my forehead, and looked kinda like my older brothers newborn pictures helped. Also that she had my husbands funny toes and skinny feet She WAS mine.

Our first evening together...

I've mentioned it before: our first year was so rough. I think now 2.5 years in I'm really feeling some real healing from the experience. I mean I'm talking about it, that's big! I can honestly say, breastfeeding saved my relationship with my daughter. It wasn't just this extra perk that I could feel good about. It was our bond. It was our bridge to relationship in so many other ways. It taught me how to be her Mother. What putting some one else first really meant. What being a servant is. What laying down your life is. I remember all the tears of frustration and anger I cried when we were having latch, over active let down, over supply and major illness issues(on my part ending in a week long hospitalization. long story).

I remember patting my bleeding nipples with breastmilk crying and wanting to give up. But I remember thinking, breastmilk is for life. My body wouldn't let me birth the way I wanted to. But that was just one day, we just missed one day. An important day, but it was ONE. But breastmilk is for life, it's a commitment. I could give her milk. I could do this.

And I did.

Riley enjoying a picnic lunch at the park 6mos old.

I wouldn't be the mother I am, the person I am if it weren't for breastmilk. For fighting for my right to nurse my baby. I wouldn't have learned the lessons or grown as a person if it weren't for those challenging hours. I'm so thankful for my Mom's advice to "give it at least 6 weeks, and even then don't give up!". For LLL and kellymom . For all the Mother's who've mentored me near and far (what did we do before online communities?). For every word of encouragement and helpful idea. For my Husband who has spent WEEKS of his life walking screaming babies so I could take a break.

Riley nursed until she was almost 19mos old. Her weaning was low key, some times almost as painful as our early weeks. She weaned 2 weeks before her little sister joined our family. Our nursing relationship didn't go how I though it would. She hasn't nursed in almost a year, and I'm so thankful for how our relationship has grown out of what started with nursing. I guess I'm on this line of though because the one year anniversary of her weaning is coming up. I'm not sure what the date is, there were several "lasts" (or what I thought would be) and I honestly don't remember our last time nursing. I'm so thankful for how things worked out...I think now that I'm further away from it I can see what a blessing it all was. Having one ending and one start so close together has left me no time to process.

(I won't even go into my VBAC story and all that I learned there. Another post perhaps...I'm really processing a lot of all that, I can't believe it's almost been a year!)

I'm thankful for breastfeeding. I'm thankful for the redeeming grace of getting to nurse my firstborn. I wonder who I would be, as a mother and how I would be different if I had been given the bad advice my grandmother received...I really don't know. It all comes together, it all happened for a reason. Even as traumatic as her birth was, as sad as I feel about the stolen moments, I'm thankful. Because of what I've learned.

There is still a lot of grief about my first birth experience. I will forever live with this ugly massive scar across my lower abdomen. A scar that no matter how much weight I lose or how hard I work out, will forever pull and change the shape of my stomach (we're starting to think the surgeon botched it or some thing I have these random holes in my scar, like where skin healed at different levels...maybe I'll get brave enough to post pics some day). I also have scars on my nipples from the hard first few weeks, she literally gnawed holes in me. But the scars are reminders of where I've been and who I've become...And I hope will help other first-time Mom's I come across in the future.

Grief isn't pointless. Dissappointment is always going to come around. It's what you learn from it and take with you that really matters in the end. I'm so thankful that in all of this I learned some good lessons. And I hope in the outlets I've been given (ICAN, this blog, the young Mom's I come into contact with- who I try to be vocal yet in a gentle "listen to your instincts" kind of way): I'm passing it on!

What I've learned? Ask for help! Find your voice and use it! Give...And give some more! And be blessed, because even in the ugly disappointing things there is SO much joy!

And two little somebodies are starting to call...Nap time is over, and so is this post!

Erhg. All cops should have to take care of my kids on a bad day.

I got pulled over this morning. I still am a bit high on adrenaline. Ugh not the good kind. The girls were a mess this morning, we were moving from room to room trying to 1) get some house work done and 2) keep my sanity. A LOT of crying, a lot of whining, a lot of "No Mommie I don't want to"s while my 2 year old laid like a lump on the floor whenever any thing was said to her.

You would have thought it was Monday.

So at 9:30 when they were both screaming and Riley was asking to go back to bed. I thought They CAN'T take a nap yet, it's not even 10! If they nap now they will be ready for bed at 6 this evening, and up at 4 tomorrow morning. So in comes distraction: a trip to Target. We get loaded in the car, drive the 5 minutes to the store and walk around for an hour. Yes, now they are ready to go home have some lunch and take a nap. More than ready, if you know what I mean.

We're on our way home. We're driving home. Amity is fussing, I'm trying to hurry: If she falls asleep in the car I can kiss nap time good bye (she does NOT transfer and she will sleep for 5 minutes and be up for hours OVER TIRED). I'm behind a police car. No problem, I'm going the speed limit. I'm not riding along too closely.

Suddenly some thing giant and yellow is waving in rearview mirror. Oh Riley found the inter tube from the pool yesterday. Into the rear view mirror: "Riley, don't play with that it could get popped and won't work any more" I look back at the road and the cop as suddenly put on his turn signal and is STOPPING to turn RIGHT.
1) he didn't follow the law it should be at least 300 feet before the turn if going over 35mph (speed limit was 40mph)
2) You NEVER stop when turning RIGHT!!!!!!!

Now part of the stopping might have been because I was kinda coming up closer (???? I'll give him the benefit of the doubt?) than he anticipated and he was trying to decide what to do? Either way you GET OUT OF THE WAY if some one is coming up. I didn't hit him. I wasn't even close. But I was annoyed that he was stopping while turning (pet peeve, it is BAD driving) so I went around him (at a nice slow respectful speed and staying in my lane it wasn't like I was even veering out into the other lane)...He pulls a U-y and gets behind me. I turn off on to W st and he pulls me over.

I'm confused: what did I do wrong?

So then he spends 20 minutes (I kid you not) writing me a warning (for what??) while the girls are having a screaming match. And the A/C is out on the van so we're all dripping sweat and the baby is FREAKING because she wants some milkies and a nap and Ooooh I was ready to shake that cop.

He finally comes back with the ticket, I mean WARNING, and says "Okay so this will just take a few more minutes. Your story seems to line up. You do have two little kids back there and I do take into account that they are all fastened in the appropriate seats and and the seats are being used appropriately. bla bla bla bla here you go. Drive safely."

!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I'm generally a VERY Nice person.. Some times I'm a down right push-over (though some thing I'm improving on) but some thing about this run-in (or not, thankfully) just brought out the mother-bear in me and I'm quite proud of how well I held it together.

That cop obviously has never been the primary care giver for 2 small children under 3. And he's certainly never hung around and or driven small children when they are losing it.

All police officers should have to babysit small children for a day (they can use mine: they'd give them a well rounded experience!) and drive with them before they go pulling tired, hungry frazzled Mom's over and KEEPING them for more than 2 minutes. I'm serious. I'm sure he needed to look up my driving record (which is clean except for this stupid thing that says I was in an accident in 2004 when it WASN'T an accident: the tire just fell off my car, I was going 20mph through a little podunk town and the tire just CAME OFF...I didn't even hit a curb I just kinda coasted to a stop. Yet it's on my record. ergh).

Sorry this was a very venty post. It's been a very hard day.

"You Shouldn't Nurse HERE" Christians and Breastfeeding

I was at a family gathering over the weekend. In the past at family gatherings I've taken my baby to a quiet room to nurse. My babies (so far) are horribly distractable between the ages of 2-8months. No milk gets in to them when we're around a lot of people. And a lot of milk gets all over the place (ergh overactive let down!). I'm practically flashing every one with all the popping on and off nonsense. It's not discreet or comfortable for me. But on top of that, it's kind of where I've been more-or-less told to nurse my baby. "Oh she's hungry? You can go nurse her back in ______'s bedroom."

But now my baby is a whopping 10 months and she could nurse through anything. When she's hungry or tired: she could care less what is going on around her. We're in a good stage, and it's pretty discreet. We can even nurse in some positions that it looks like she's just snuggling with me, not the normal "cradle hold" deal. I love this age: they are so babyish still and snuggly. But big enough to get creative with how you nurse. Yet small enough where you aren't getting the "nursing a toddler" grief (at least in my circle).

So we were at a family Birthday party on Saturday evening and Ami was getting tired. I was visiting with my sister and 2 [female] cousins in this little side room (that was still kind of open to the rest of the party but more quiet) and I pulled Amity in to nurse. The reaction I got kinda made me sad. My sister said, "Are you sure you don't want to move over into that corner so no one out there can see?" I told her we were fine and she (and my cousins a bit) got uncomfortable. Awkward silence.

Thankfully my cousin A restarted the conversation she's second oldest of 6 kids and she remembers her Mom nursing I guess.

But really? 1) I would have to move from the comfortable couch to a folding chair, to nurse "in the corner" and 2) what is the big deal? No one but my sister (who was sitting right next to me) got a flash of any thing. And come on, I've changed in front of her thousands of times. 3) Amity was hungry...She pulls a bit of drama (quite loudly!) when she's nursing and forced to stop. It would have been a big deal to move and drawn more attention.

It bugged me. I hate how just because I'm a nursing Mother I'm expected in "certain circles" to step out and nurse my baby else where. Like I said, when my babies are young I don't mind all the time...It's a pain when baby is popping off and milk is spraying every where. But every where, mainly in Christian circles (specifically at church) breastfeeding Mom's are told where to nurse. At our old church it was this back corner of the nursery with this half wall built up. On top of the half wall there was a little paper sign that read, "Caution: Nursing Mother!"
It made me feel like I was doing some thing weird. Or like they needed to warn that some one was showering back there. Avert your eyes!!!


At our new church they are a little nicer. We get a whole room to ourselves with a TV to watch the service. No babies allowed in the service after worship: too distracting. I won't get started on that (it's a whooole different conversation!). But really?! Why this attitude? Is my sliver of breast (that may or may not even show) really going to cause a man to stumble? Really? Nursing breasts aren't all that pretty I gotta say. I won't go into details but I find the new set I've gotten since I had kids not nearly as sexy. Beautiful in their own way, sure but some things got big (huuuge), darker and kinda scary looking. Just sayin.

Which leads me to this wonderful post written by a Christian Father. He makes some excellent points.

In closing I wish I had the guts to nurse where ever I wanted. I do nurse in public. I've even nursed on the floor of the House of Representatives when we were in Washington D.C. a few years ago (long story but my oldest is probably the only baby in history to do so?). I nurse in slings and carriers. I nurse a lot of places if my baby is hungry. I love the looks of horror on peoples faces when they come over to look at my quiet"sleeping" baby in the sling or MT stroke her head and THEN realize "ooooh there's a bit of breast!" :0D

But when it comes to church and other places where Christians gather, I just feel like I'd be crossing a big line. A line filled with things I'm not willing face...Maybe after my third, or fourth baby I'll be so busy that it'll just have to be the fact? Just having one baby in tow will be a luxery? I do hate feeling like a bit of a leper "Oh this is where the nursing mother's go [insert uncomfortable tone here]. You can't hang out with the rest of us, you might cause some one to stumble, sorry."

This was another great article about Breastfeeding in Church. And with that I think I'll go drink my tea and soak up the rest of nap time. It'll be over all too soon.

This Mouthful Is a Bit Much...

I think I bit off more than I can chew. Or maybe we all did? Or maybe it's this mind numbing exhaustion. Its' been a busy week. A beautiful busy week. The days have flown by and Friday is staring me in the face and I am glad. I think tomorrow is going to be a stay at home curl up in bed and watch movies all morning kinda day. Ha! More like, stay in bed for 45 minutes while the girls climb all over me and each other and then some one falls off the bed or hits their heads together or some thing and party is over. Not the relaxing kind of thing it used to be... We'll figure some thing out that means "low key" tomorrow I guess.

But maybe I can work it out to take a nap with the girls. And then get up and go to the park for the afternoon.

I miss my husband, he's got another meeting tonight. I slept through his evening home last night: I fell asleep with the girls. My body is not used to this social life! I've hung out with friends every day this week (I think?). It's been wonderful! But all the great conversation with little time to process. And all the sunshine and fresh air. All the constant fun. On top of Amity's LOOOONG luxurious (for her) nursing sessions a few times a night (that for some reason I can't sleep through?) are leaving me TIRED.

And I'm feeling overwhelmed. Next few weekends are jam packed and I hate that. Saturday I'm meeting with my "sister" for an early breakfast (hey Beck, if you read this can we move it up to 7? that'll give us more time to visit. I'll call!) and then I have our ICAN meeting, and then we come home and relax for a few hours and then we may go to my Grandmother's 75th Birthday Party: I feel like we should go. I want to go as my cousin is in from out of town and I'd like to see her. And then it's Sunday and Father's Day.

And then the next weekend Ryan has a conference (?) and I'm supposed to be throwing a Pampered Chef Party. I want to throw the party. It's been so long since I've done some thing grown up. But only 3 people have RSVP and I'm just not feeling it. I told my friend (whose just kinda getting started) that I'd throw it. But now I'm wondering if this is just too much for me to chew right now. The extra stress, ya know? Not to mention the fact that I will have no money to spend, not unless I borrow from my budget a week or two in advance. Father's Day kinda set me back. And I really need new running shoes (mine are DYING- falling apart= blisters) and have time to break them in before I run the 5k in a few weeks.

ergh. Is this a time where I need to be assertive and say "this is a bad time. Sorry." or push through and hope more people can come and it won't be a waste of energy?

Maybe things will look better in the morning?

In other news, I'm kinda feeling happy. Riley likes me again. I know that's pathetic. But ever since Amity was born we've struggled to find our new fit. She preferred Daddy. But now she's specifically asking for Mommie. This evening she ran over to me laid her head in my lap and said "Oh Mommie, I wub you!"

melt.

We've also been having special time before bed. She climbs up in bed with me and Daddy plays with Amity on the floor. Riley and I read stories. We snuggle and she piles all her stuffed animals on me. I love it. It's so nice to have a time of day when it's "just us" again, even for just a couple of minutes. I'd try to do things like that before, but she didn't want much to do with me. 10 long months... I think one of the things I most struggled with the last few weeks of my pregnancy with Amity was the fact that I'd be losing the "just us" factor with Riley. I was losing before I thought I was ready, before I wanted it. And it's been so hard. It's so lovely and rewarding to feel her pleasure when I nuzzle her neck or pretend she's a pillow. Especially after long days of "No Mommies" and "I don't want to" and "No." and having to forge through the best we can... helping her figure this autonomous thing out while still keeping her safe. And yes some times dealing with the tears and ugliness that come with my, "I know you don't want it but...[too bad]" moments. 2.5 is such a negative stage. Exhausting. The reconnecting is lovely.

And Amity my little monkey. She climbs any thing. She got up on the piano again today. oops.

I am going to close I think I hear a baby stirring and I need to go get her back down before she wakes some one else up!

Thinking About...

Whenever I write those words I can't help think of the book "The Education of Hyman Kaplan" you can't just read that book, you've gotta hear the record HYSTERICAL...

Anyway, random.

Thinking about big toddlers growing too fast.
About that sound my baby makes when she's tired and knows Mama's milk is coming.

Thinking about damp curls and coconut shampoo snuggled near my neck. Snuggled in bed together, while I read books from my childhood.

Thinking about my wonderful husband scheduling his meetings late. So he can come home from work, help me feed the kids, and put them to bed. I wouldn't be the person I am without you hun!

Thinking about lullabies and silly toddlers whispering in a LOUD voice. A voice that I can hear across the room and over our white noise [machine]: "Mommie?? Mommie!! I want a kiss. Mommie??? Will you give me one??" Oh toddlers stalling sleep, precious.

Thinking about sitting by bedsides patting bums singing favorite sleepy songs.

I hope my children remember that stuff. I hope they remember the snuggles. That I was more patient than I wasn't. That I really really loved them no matter how exasperated I acted. Or how much I wished myself out of the current drama (two little girls= soo much drama, what's that about?)

I started a post earlier today about parenting out of fear. How easy it is to do when you are parenting in any style: even "Attachment Parenting". It's so hard not to be afraid. I want to finish that post. But tonight I'm in a bit too much of a mushy moony mood.

I had a lovely day. I said it a few weeks ago, but broken record here I go. I hope I'm getting to the point in life where I can just take things as they are. It is what it is. I used to dream up these big beautiful things, visions for my future etc. And then be tragically disappointed. I am a bit dramatic. It is what it is, and whatever God is doing it is beautiful...Whatever shape it takes. Even if I think it looks ugly, one day I'll realize it really isn't so much...And hopefully for those things I'm in that place (are you tracking? I'm really in a weird mood) I'll be further down the road and see that they were actually quite beautiful, breath taking... Ah, for those days.

Sheesh this is getting a little too much. I'm just (dare I say it??) HAPPY. Not in the "life's all good" kinda way. But in a Thank you Lord, for finally opening some freakin doors! No disrespect meant, but seriously! :0.

I feel like the last month or two God's just been ... I don't know bringing clarity? Bringing me around the looong bend I've been trudging through? Showing me... beauty for ashes. joy for mourning? I've just felt so sad and disappointed in so many respects. grief. And I'm getting to a point where it's okay. those things sucked (notice when I'm really thinking all punctuation goes out the window?). It's okay to be angry about them, sad, disappointed. It's okay things won't be what you want them to be 99% of the time. But I'm finding they're better that way. Not in a "I'm stuffing feelings" kind of way, but they really ARE better.

So tonight I'm thinking how thankful I am. Thankful for the people God has used to keep me afloat (my dear bestest hubbers mainly, but there were so many others who've prayed for me and loved me). I'm sure there will be days, hours week where I sink...But the numbness is wearing off...I can FEEL God holding on to me. Where before it was just painful tingling and the not-so-fun knowledge of that fact. Because I was afraid. But He's always holding on. And I've decided to grip on too and start moving forward.

So on that happy note, I'll close this long rambly kinda opaque (is that the word I mean? yup, google says it is.) post. Good night.

and it WILL be a good night because hubbies bringing Chocolate Cake (to die for stuff) from the B diner after his meeting. lucky me... Going to have to run 2 extra miles tomorrow but I'll do it!!