My two oldest children are girls, 2 weeks shy of 4 years apart. They shared a room at one point several years ago, but we had to separate them because it was nonstop fighting and I couldn't handle it. This was probably when they were about 5 and 9. My oldest was often the bossy, bully-ish big sister and not very helpful. There was never a point where I could have left her in charge of her two closest siblings, even for a short period of time. My younger daughter would often try and ask for homework advice, as her sister had all the same teachers and did most of the same projects, but she usually got met with grumpiness and an unwillingness to be helpful. It used to break my heart for my younger daughter, and I spent so much time talking to my older one about how mean and hurtful she was being. Her little sister even stood up to bullies for her, taking no crap and calling them out when she would see her older sister get picked on.
But nature has a way of working things out, or time rather. The older they both got, the better the situation started to become. When we moved to the new area, but three older kids really started relying on each other more. The first summer we spent in this house they spent it together, camping out in the basement together, or exploring the neighborhood together. It was so nice to not have them always fighting! My oldest has taken them to football games and after-game hangouts at the local diner, and they often go either one-on-one or as a group to hang out around the neighborhood together. It's so awesome to see that when one of them wants company, they seek the others out and offer to go do something together. They also will often conspire together to ask for something special from us, or one convinces the other to sneak into the kitchen to whip up a batch of late-night cookies. I think sometimes they figure if they are all involved and not bugging me to do it, I won't balk at the mess (or the cookie sheets that always end up being put away dirty.)
The relationship that has really made me the happiest to watch bloom is the one between the two girls. Because my sister has always been, and will always be, my idol and the person closest to me, the only one I want to talk to when things are crappy, or when things are awesome. She is 9 years older than me, but she has absolutely always been my idol ever since I could walk. She just gets me, and accepts me for me. She is the only one who never asked or expected me to be anyone other than who I was. We live in different states now, but we talk all the time and I still miss her.
When my youngest daughter got her first period, after I comforted her, she wanted her sister. Then she was ok. This past week she had a particularly crappy week, that all came to a head Friday after school. I was given a heads up a little before school let out that it was going to be a crappy time. I knew my oldest wasn't going to be home until later that night. I almost texted her anyway telling her that her sister was going to need her, but I decided not to. After I had held and calmed and talked, shed asked if her older sister was home, and said she needed her. She asked several times that evening when she would be home. She needed her sister. And it made me aware of how much I still need mine, and I called her and immediately felt lighter.
When she wakes up with a bad dream, or there is a loud storm, she goes and climbs in bed with her sister.
Later that night she didn't want to be alone. Despite a lot of recent fighting between them, (thanks, stupid girl hormones) she sought out her brother. They watched a movie together and camped out in the basement for the night. They might be mean and yell and fight, but when the chips are down they all seem to step up.
I grew up with lots of siblings, but we were all spread out. Still, my best memories are the ones with a full house and lots of chaos. I remember being my youngest daughter's age (12) and really relying on my older siblings despite the large gap in age. I remember how close I was to my older brothers, and how I found solace in them in a way I couldn't with my parents. I knew how important those relationships were in my life; I just really didn't grasp how important they are in my children's lives until now.
It's really cool too see my Toddler boy kiss his baby brother on the head, or hand him a toy, or take his hands in his and walk with him the way he sees us do. But it is really something special to witness my older children needing and reaching out to each other, to put aside the fighting and arguing, and come together to lift each other up and comfort each other in a way that no one else can.
And I realize that THAT is where my desire for more children comes from. To do what my Dad did for me, that I never even realized until now. To build this family that will always have each other long after I'm gone. So that they always have someone who lived the same life growing up, that can relate to them like no one else. And also, so they will always have a group of people who will love them unconditionally for who they are, who can share in their trials and triumphs, and who will always have their back. Just like I know that I know that no matter the miles or the time apart, I have a group of people I can pull from. I could show up on a doorstep in the middle of the night and I would have refuge from the storm. I know it won't always be smooth sailing. But family is forever.
Monday, March 6, 2017
Sunday, March 5, 2017
These Days
It's a little after 8am on a Friday. I woke up way early having to pee despite really wanting to sleep straight through after last night. The wind was so strong and intense that the power went out, and the entire house was up. I couldn't get settled until everyone was done waking up in confusion hearing the wind wail in the pitch black. We have a lot of trees, when it's windy it's very noisy on the second floor.
So far this morning we have nursed,sent older ones off to school and Daddy off to work, ended a meltdown, had our morning banana and milk, played a game of catch on the stairs and then included the one dog and we all played catch with her and her toy too, cuddled on the couch, and playing in the living room. It's almost time for me to make breakfast. I've been waking up hungry but waited because the boys need time to play first. Despite the headachey, tired way I feel in the mornings (thanks weather for those things) today things feel relatively calm and serene. Which is often not the case. My mornings are usually very noisy, with older kids arguing for a spot in the mirror, or a missing jacket, and the littlest ones decide they need to add to that and there are tears for attention and breakfast and attention. Those days have a way to make the day start crappy.
Today won't stay like this. There will be moments of meltdowns and tantrums that test my patience and force me to have to do a mental reset. Today is ordinary. We have no special plans, other than to figure out a meatless dinner in this first Friday of Lent. It's cold outside. Very cold. It's germ season, when some really nasty bugs circulate, so we would be avoiding playgrounds anyway. There are already toys spilled all over the floor. There is a ton of laundry to do.
But these are the days and the moments that fill my heart. These ordinary days are the days I am going to miss the most when they are over. These may be the lasts of the firsts I will ever have. I am trying to appreciate all the little moments I have with them, in this life.
I had to take a break writing this because the boys went from happy to hangry in a hot second. We had breakfast, did the dishes, picked up messes, went and played upstairs in the boys room (where I let them pull all the stuffed friends and blankets off the beds and bounce and play), picked up the kids' bathroom, and one of us got to take a nap. I also went through the closet looking for a few smaller clothing items I needed, gathered up the dirty laundry, played dress up in winter clothes, picked up another big mess that required a broom, sliced an apple for a snack, and called in to pay a bill(because they charge you to pay online and I refuse, also I never have stamps), and am getting ready to make lunch.
This life, it's not glamorous. It's not fancy. It's not rich in money. But it's rich in love and laughter, and sticky, slobbery kisses, and big unending messes. But I love it just the same.
So far this morning we have nursed,sent older ones off to school and Daddy off to work, ended a meltdown, had our morning banana and milk, played a game of catch on the stairs and then included the one dog and we all played catch with her and her toy too, cuddled on the couch, and playing in the living room. It's almost time for me to make breakfast. I've been waking up hungry but waited because the boys need time to play first. Despite the headachey, tired way I feel in the mornings (thanks weather for those things) today things feel relatively calm and serene. Which is often not the case. My mornings are usually very noisy, with older kids arguing for a spot in the mirror, or a missing jacket, and the littlest ones decide they need to add to that and there are tears for attention and breakfast and attention. Those days have a way to make the day start crappy.
Today won't stay like this. There will be moments of meltdowns and tantrums that test my patience and force me to have to do a mental reset. Today is ordinary. We have no special plans, other than to figure out a meatless dinner in this first Friday of Lent. It's cold outside. Very cold. It's germ season, when some really nasty bugs circulate, so we would be avoiding playgrounds anyway. There are already toys spilled all over the floor. There is a ton of laundry to do.
But these are the days and the moments that fill my heart. These ordinary days are the days I am going to miss the most when they are over. These may be the lasts of the firsts I will ever have. I am trying to appreciate all the little moments I have with them, in this life.
I had to take a break writing this because the boys went from happy to hangry in a hot second. We had breakfast, did the dishes, picked up messes, went and played upstairs in the boys room (where I let them pull all the stuffed friends and blankets off the beds and bounce and play), picked up the kids' bathroom, and one of us got to take a nap. I also went through the closet looking for a few smaller clothing items I needed, gathered up the dirty laundry, played dress up in winter clothes, picked up another big mess that required a broom, sliced an apple for a snack, and called in to pay a bill(because they charge you to pay online and I refuse, also I never have stamps), and am getting ready to make lunch.
This life, it's not glamorous. It's not fancy. It's not rich in money. But it's rich in love and laughter, and sticky, slobbery kisses, and big unending messes. But I love it just the same.
Monday, February 20, 2017
Microblog Mondays-I don't know what to even title this post
So yesterday I had the most unexpected, offensive, and upsetting conversation happen at work with one of the doctors in my department. He's a small man in his 60's who probably weighs like 130lbs soaking wet and has never struggled with weighing too much a day in his life. He makes a lot of money (but still dresses cheaply), has a huge house on the water and a boat he likes to throw department parties at, and has an odd sense of humor. The encounter started like this:
Me (carrying a tall styrofoam cup of black coffee not quite 3/4 full) So I made some coffee in the back. Bring your own cup though because I couldn't find any back there.
He looks up: That cup isn't full of coffee is it? That's a lot of caffeine.
Oh, no it's only up to here. I probay won't even get to drink half before it gets cold and I dump it out anyway.
Well that's still a lot of caffeine and you're small...well you're short...are you pregnant again?
Noooo. I wouldn't be...
So when are you going to skinny up??
(Insert shocked expression here) I wish I knew. (Too stunned and embarrassed to have any better answer)
Well, you're so short, and it's bad for your heart. You're so cute. I can tell...you know, I really like you (or some off compliment that was trying to show he wasn't being offensive) what did you weigh in high school?
Yeah, I was never small. I've never been skinny.
Oh, really? Is your mom...
No, my grandma. Once I hit puberty I got the boobs, butt, hips, and thighs. I'm also the shortest in my family so I really got screwed. I'm working on it.
He maybe realized at this point this wasn't maybe the most appropriate conversation to have. I don't know if it was the look on my face or my voice or what. But he started talking about other things that I didn't really hear and after a few minutes I finally said " so there's coffee. Bring your own cup" and walked away.
I walked away feeing like I wanted to tell somebody what he just said, but feeling too ashamed and embarrassed to do so. I felt absolutely horrible. I was shocked to the point of not even believing that had just happened. And I just felt like shit. Like I shouldn't put one more piece of food in my mouth for the rest of the day, although it was only like 10am. I walked back out front and never even touched my coffee. I sat and stared at my computer trying not to cry.
This doctor...I don't know him that well. I've never had a personal conversation with him beyond asking about life in general and taking about our kids. I only see him once every six weeks or so, so it's not even like we work together all that often. I have no idea why he thought it was appropriate to comment on my weight. He probably didn't even think twice once I walked away. But that conversation has totally fucked with my head. I know I shouldn't let someone stupid get to me, but I can't help it. It makes me angry because he is first a MAN who has no idea what it's like to be pregnant and have your body got all screwed up after that. He has no idea if I have some medical issue that's maybe preventing me from being able to lose weight, or could be causing me to gain. He doesn't know if I have any stressors in my life that are going on. He doesn't know anything about my personal situation. He probably assumes I'm just a fat slob that doesn't take care of myself and sits around eating Mcdonalds all day.
When he said "You're so cute I can tell..." I know he meant your so cute, I can tell you'd be even cuter, or more attractive, or even pretty if you weren't heavy. In an age where we are supposed to be teaching that everyone looks different, and people of all shapes, sizes, and colors are beautiful...why are we still back to this. That if you changed c, y, or z THEN you'd be better. Why are we still making each other feel like they aren't good enough as they are? How do I teach this to my children. How do I learn this for myself?
The funny thing is I have worked there for 10 years, and have basically been about the same size the entire time. I've been up and down and pregnant, but I'm still wearing all the same scrubs that I've had.
When I look in the mirror I don't love what I see. But I have learned at accept it to a point so that I can live with myself and whatever size I am so I don't fall into a depression that I am very susceptible to. I will never be skinny, but I try every day to make smart choices and add in extra excercise when I can. I had just recently dropped some weight because I could tell by how my pants were fitting.
But this. Oh man. Now I feel like when I am out in public people don't see me as a mom of 5, as an awesome healthcare worker, as a Child of God, but instead as this fat, overweight ugly personal taking up too much space. And that sucks so much. I've never been a skinny person who could eat whatever I want. I have no idea what that feels like. I have always struggled with my weight, and depression, and depression surrounding my weight, and numbers on the scale, and numbers on the tag of my pants. I have to work really hard to make the scale budge at all, sometimes it taking a month or more being super strict to even get a pound off. It's such a mental thing I don't have time to fight with myself about right now.
I am so embarrassed and ashamed that I didn't say anything to anyone about the conversation. Not even my husband, who has always assured me he loves me no matter what size I am.
But seriously...when did it become ok for people to feel like they can comment on someone's weight? It's like asking someone when they are going to get rid of their acne. I really wish I had stood up for myself to him, but I was just so shocked that the conversation was even happening. It hit a huge trigger with me...the shame, embarrassment, and self-loathing I have experienced all my life surrounding my weight. Even the times when I managed to lose a significant amount, I still always felt like the fat girl in the room. I need to be okay with myself as is, because I might never have one of those weight-loss transformation success stories, and I can't live my life that way...hoping and wishing and waiting for the day when I'm the skinny one. That might never be in the cards for me and I need to be okay with that. But this...I feel like it undid all of the work I have been doing just to be okay with myself.
Part of me wants to do something about the situation. I have thought about writing him an email to address the inappropriateness of it all, or go to a supervisor, or even HR. But there comes that shame. I just want this to go away. I don't want it to be talked about. I don't want any more embarrassment of having my weight talked about. And I have this deep down fear that me bringing up the situation will somehow get turned back around on me, and then the whole thing becomes an intervention about my weight. Gosh, as I write this it must sound like I'm big enough to be on one of those my 600-pound life shows. My weight is not that out of control. But that is how I feel when people see me. And it sucks.
Me (carrying a tall styrofoam cup of black coffee not quite 3/4 full) So I made some coffee in the back. Bring your own cup though because I couldn't find any back there.
He looks up: That cup isn't full of coffee is it? That's a lot of caffeine.
Oh, no it's only up to here. I probay won't even get to drink half before it gets cold and I dump it out anyway.
Well that's still a lot of caffeine and you're small...well you're short...are you pregnant again?
Noooo. I wouldn't be...
So when are you going to skinny up??
(Insert shocked expression here) I wish I knew. (Too stunned and embarrassed to have any better answer)
Well, you're so short, and it's bad for your heart. You're so cute. I can tell...you know, I really like you (or some off compliment that was trying to show he wasn't being offensive) what did you weigh in high school?
Yeah, I was never small. I've never been skinny.
Oh, really? Is your mom...
No, my grandma. Once I hit puberty I got the boobs, butt, hips, and thighs. I'm also the shortest in my family so I really got screwed. I'm working on it.
He maybe realized at this point this wasn't maybe the most appropriate conversation to have. I don't know if it was the look on my face or my voice or what. But he started talking about other things that I didn't really hear and after a few minutes I finally said " so there's coffee. Bring your own cup" and walked away.
I walked away feeing like I wanted to tell somebody what he just said, but feeling too ashamed and embarrassed to do so. I felt absolutely horrible. I was shocked to the point of not even believing that had just happened. And I just felt like shit. Like I shouldn't put one more piece of food in my mouth for the rest of the day, although it was only like 10am. I walked back out front and never even touched my coffee. I sat and stared at my computer trying not to cry.
This doctor...I don't know him that well. I've never had a personal conversation with him beyond asking about life in general and taking about our kids. I only see him once every six weeks or so, so it's not even like we work together all that often. I have no idea why he thought it was appropriate to comment on my weight. He probably didn't even think twice once I walked away. But that conversation has totally fucked with my head. I know I shouldn't let someone stupid get to me, but I can't help it. It makes me angry because he is first a MAN who has no idea what it's like to be pregnant and have your body got all screwed up after that. He has no idea if I have some medical issue that's maybe preventing me from being able to lose weight, or could be causing me to gain. He doesn't know if I have any stressors in my life that are going on. He doesn't know anything about my personal situation. He probably assumes I'm just a fat slob that doesn't take care of myself and sits around eating Mcdonalds all day.
When he said "You're so cute I can tell..." I know he meant your so cute, I can tell you'd be even cuter, or more attractive, or even pretty if you weren't heavy. In an age where we are supposed to be teaching that everyone looks different, and people of all shapes, sizes, and colors are beautiful...why are we still back to this. That if you changed c, y, or z THEN you'd be better. Why are we still making each other feel like they aren't good enough as they are? How do I teach this to my children. How do I learn this for myself?
The funny thing is I have worked there for 10 years, and have basically been about the same size the entire time. I've been up and down and pregnant, but I'm still wearing all the same scrubs that I've had.
When I look in the mirror I don't love what I see. But I have learned at accept it to a point so that I can live with myself and whatever size I am so I don't fall into a depression that I am very susceptible to. I will never be skinny, but I try every day to make smart choices and add in extra excercise when I can. I had just recently dropped some weight because I could tell by how my pants were fitting.
But this. Oh man. Now I feel like when I am out in public people don't see me as a mom of 5, as an awesome healthcare worker, as a Child of God, but instead as this fat, overweight ugly personal taking up too much space. And that sucks so much. I've never been a skinny person who could eat whatever I want. I have no idea what that feels like. I have always struggled with my weight, and depression, and depression surrounding my weight, and numbers on the scale, and numbers on the tag of my pants. I have to work really hard to make the scale budge at all, sometimes it taking a month or more being super strict to even get a pound off. It's such a mental thing I don't have time to fight with myself about right now.
I am so embarrassed and ashamed that I didn't say anything to anyone about the conversation. Not even my husband, who has always assured me he loves me no matter what size I am.
But seriously...when did it become ok for people to feel like they can comment on someone's weight? It's like asking someone when they are going to get rid of their acne. I really wish I had stood up for myself to him, but I was just so shocked that the conversation was even happening. It hit a huge trigger with me...the shame, embarrassment, and self-loathing I have experienced all my life surrounding my weight. Even the times when I managed to lose a significant amount, I still always felt like the fat girl in the room. I need to be okay with myself as is, because I might never have one of those weight-loss transformation success stories, and I can't live my life that way...hoping and wishing and waiting for the day when I'm the skinny one. That might never be in the cards for me and I need to be okay with that. But this...I feel like it undid all of the work I have been doing just to be okay with myself.
Part of me wants to do something about the situation. I have thought about writing him an email to address the inappropriateness of it all, or go to a supervisor, or even HR. But there comes that shame. I just want this to go away. I don't want it to be talked about. I don't want any more embarrassment of having my weight talked about. And I have this deep down fear that me bringing up the situation will somehow get turned back around on me, and then the whole thing becomes an intervention about my weight. Gosh, as I write this it must sound like I'm big enough to be on one of those my 600-pound life shows. My weight is not that out of control. But that is how I feel when people see me. And it sucks.
Wednesday, January 4, 2017
December Recap
While I sounded really down and depressed in my last post, life hasn't been all that bad overall. Post-holiday let down is a real thing, folks. I am already feeling better and more hopeful, and each day gets a little better as well.
December definitely had its moments, but overall there was much to celebrate. We took a family trip to New York City to see all the touristy, holiday things. Despite it being a wacky trip full of ridiculous shenanigans that really deserves a post of its own, it was a great little getaway and I am really glad we did it. We celebrated my oldest son turning 11 with a trip to the trampoline park and a sleepover where we woke up to a very icy morning. We watched lots of Christmas movies, ate lots of yummy treats, made homemade gifts of pumpkin bread, jam, and cookies. We tried our best to get a picture of all the kids in front of the Christmas Tree, with a little success. We listened to Christmas music, drove around looking at lights, wrapped gifts, and tried our best to really enjoy the season.
The week leading up to Christmas was a cluster of epic proportions that left me not only saying "What else could possibly happen?!" but also supremely frustrated and ready to cancel the entire thing. Not one of my kids wanted to be helpful or cooperative, and things were falling apart at every turn. I tried to space out things I needed to do in hopes I would give myself enough time, but somehow, as always, it came down to the last 2 days and I was non-stop and exhausted. Seriously, the week had everything from illness, to a whole days worth of baking ruined by someone "trying to help", to a potty training toddler smearing poop on every surface of the living room (curtains included) 3 days before the house was to be filled with guests, to a dog dripping blood all over the house after she cut her mouth chewing on tree branches, to a washing machine leaking all over the basement in a fluke event that hasn't happened since, to a 12 year old kicking her 11 year old brother in the nuts so hard he was on the floor for an hour in tears, to me just losing my shit because my kids were acting AWFUL. And at the end of that very ridiculous week I ended up in Walmart on the Friday night before Christmas basically in my PJs because a gift I had bought for someone had the correct size top but 4 sizes larger in the bottoms, which I only found out because we were wrapping the last of the gifts. And I KNOW there were other insane things that happened that week but for my sanity I must have blocked them out. In the grand scheme of things it wasn't the end of the world but in the middle of it it felt like that very famous line in Christmas Vacation where Clark flips out and says "Look around Ellen, we are in the thresholds of hell".
Christmas Day itself ended up being ok, if not a little weird. The older kids are mostly not believing in Santa (although you dare not say you don't believe in my house) and the younger ones are still too little to really "get" it, my husband and I don't do any real extravagant gifts for eachother (and he's not the greatest gift-giver anyway, sigh) and my dad isn't here, and now I'm the adult who has to do all the cooking...so yeah. I love going to mass, though, and celebrating Jesus' birthday, but we do that on Christmas Eve.
The week after Christmas we had nasty germs going around our house so it was a very long week. No one felt well so everyone kept to themselves, except Toddler boy who was really down and out with a fever so he spent hours each day just laying on me. I escaped a couple times to go out for more medicine and juice and other sick day supplies, and managed to get myself together enough to go back to work. After 2 weeks at home I felt weird like I didn't want to leave my family bubble. I remember feeing the same way at the end of my maternity leave. Which is so crazy because I got to work and was like yeah...these are my people, they have my back and I'm protected. Ive mentioned that I've been an emotional weirdo lately, I wasn't kidding!
Maybe soon I will write about our New York trip...our traveling circus is certainly one for the books!
December definitely had its moments, but overall there was much to celebrate. We took a family trip to New York City to see all the touristy, holiday things. Despite it being a wacky trip full of ridiculous shenanigans that really deserves a post of its own, it was a great little getaway and I am really glad we did it. We celebrated my oldest son turning 11 with a trip to the trampoline park and a sleepover where we woke up to a very icy morning. We watched lots of Christmas movies, ate lots of yummy treats, made homemade gifts of pumpkin bread, jam, and cookies. We tried our best to get a picture of all the kids in front of the Christmas Tree, with a little success. We listened to Christmas music, drove around looking at lights, wrapped gifts, and tried our best to really enjoy the season.
The week leading up to Christmas was a cluster of epic proportions that left me not only saying "What else could possibly happen?!" but also supremely frustrated and ready to cancel the entire thing. Not one of my kids wanted to be helpful or cooperative, and things were falling apart at every turn. I tried to space out things I needed to do in hopes I would give myself enough time, but somehow, as always, it came down to the last 2 days and I was non-stop and exhausted. Seriously, the week had everything from illness, to a whole days worth of baking ruined by someone "trying to help", to a potty training toddler smearing poop on every surface of the living room (curtains included) 3 days before the house was to be filled with guests, to a dog dripping blood all over the house after she cut her mouth chewing on tree branches, to a washing machine leaking all over the basement in a fluke event that hasn't happened since, to a 12 year old kicking her 11 year old brother in the nuts so hard he was on the floor for an hour in tears, to me just losing my shit because my kids were acting AWFUL. And at the end of that very ridiculous week I ended up in Walmart on the Friday night before Christmas basically in my PJs because a gift I had bought for someone had the correct size top but 4 sizes larger in the bottoms, which I only found out because we were wrapping the last of the gifts. And I KNOW there were other insane things that happened that week but for my sanity I must have blocked them out. In the grand scheme of things it wasn't the end of the world but in the middle of it it felt like that very famous line in Christmas Vacation where Clark flips out and says "Look around Ellen, we are in the thresholds of hell".
Christmas Day itself ended up being ok, if not a little weird. The older kids are mostly not believing in Santa (although you dare not say you don't believe in my house) and the younger ones are still too little to really "get" it, my husband and I don't do any real extravagant gifts for eachother (and he's not the greatest gift-giver anyway, sigh) and my dad isn't here, and now I'm the adult who has to do all the cooking...so yeah. I love going to mass, though, and celebrating Jesus' birthday, but we do that on Christmas Eve.
The week after Christmas we had nasty germs going around our house so it was a very long week. No one felt well so everyone kept to themselves, except Toddler boy who was really down and out with a fever so he spent hours each day just laying on me. I escaped a couple times to go out for more medicine and juice and other sick day supplies, and managed to get myself together enough to go back to work. After 2 weeks at home I felt weird like I didn't want to leave my family bubble. I remember feeing the same way at the end of my maternity leave. Which is so crazy because I got to work and was like yeah...these are my people, they have my back and I'm protected. Ive mentioned that I've been an emotional weirdo lately, I wasn't kidding!
Maybe soon I will write about our New York trip...our traveling circus is certainly one for the books!
Monday, January 2, 2017
MicroBlog Monday's: Getting Better
I don't do New Years resolutions. I actually really resent the fact that because the calendar year changes, we are expected to make a bunch of unattainable goals and then feel bad about ourselves when we inevitably fail.
But. I have been in a rut and I need to do something starting NOW to get myself out of it. I need a fresh start. I have some lifestyle changes I want to make. I want, no I NEED, to start taking some time to put myself first...or at the very least not dead last to the point of being forgotten.
This last year has been a wonderful blessing, but MAN was it challenging, in a whole host of aspects. Being a mom to a new baby and a demanding toddler is hard; being mom to a teenager is even harder. Trying to juggle all the balls was more than a little insane. Somehow in this last year I have managed to really lose myself. I made myself so unimportant to myself that it rubbed off on those I live with...I started to feel unimportant to them, too. The holidays were very hard. Everything just kind of came to a head...it was like everything I was trying to do for everyone else didn't even matter to anyone. I started to feel like I didn't matter. Like no matter what I did it wasn't ever going to be enough. And I just really lost it.
On top of my fragile emotional state, there is the physical yuck I have been feeling. I gained a bit of weight over the last 6 months, partly from a medication I was on, and partly from putting myself dead last. I didn't take are of myself when it came to eating and getting any real excercise. My clothes don't fit right...even my "fat" clothes feel snug. And I just don't feel well. I feel fat and unattractive and frumpy and just gross.
I am going to be completely honest here and say that I don't get much support at home when it comes to things like this. Basically the general feeling is one of indifference, so long as it doesn't affect the rest of the house. This also doesn't help my emotional well being, but it is what it is. I've shed plenty of tears over this but it's not something that is ever going to change. It does make me feel a little like the love is conditional. Which really sort of sucks.
So, on my own, I am going to try to start putting myself above some other things. I am going to try to get a workout in everyday, and I am going to try to feed myself properly and not be so busy with everyone else that I only have time to grab a sugared up cup of coffee. I am going to work on my mental well being, as well. I can't tell you how much it sucks to be 38 and still feel like crap about your body. How probably now the comparing myself to others nonsense has come back with a vengeance like it hasn't done since middle school. For a long time I was Ok with myself, but something happened to my body image since having these last 2 babies and my self-esteem has just taken a nose dive. And it's all in my head because no one has made me feel that way, I assure you.
So...if anyone out there has any support they can give, I could sure use it. Right now I feel all alone. And it's scary.
But. I have been in a rut and I need to do something starting NOW to get myself out of it. I need a fresh start. I have some lifestyle changes I want to make. I want, no I NEED, to start taking some time to put myself first...or at the very least not dead last to the point of being forgotten.
This last year has been a wonderful blessing, but MAN was it challenging, in a whole host of aspects. Being a mom to a new baby and a demanding toddler is hard; being mom to a teenager is even harder. Trying to juggle all the balls was more than a little insane. Somehow in this last year I have managed to really lose myself. I made myself so unimportant to myself that it rubbed off on those I live with...I started to feel unimportant to them, too. The holidays were very hard. Everything just kind of came to a head...it was like everything I was trying to do for everyone else didn't even matter to anyone. I started to feel like I didn't matter. Like no matter what I did it wasn't ever going to be enough. And I just really lost it.
On top of my fragile emotional state, there is the physical yuck I have been feeling. I gained a bit of weight over the last 6 months, partly from a medication I was on, and partly from putting myself dead last. I didn't take are of myself when it came to eating and getting any real excercise. My clothes don't fit right...even my "fat" clothes feel snug. And I just don't feel well. I feel fat and unattractive and frumpy and just gross.
I am going to be completely honest here and say that I don't get much support at home when it comes to things like this. Basically the general feeling is one of indifference, so long as it doesn't affect the rest of the house. This also doesn't help my emotional well being, but it is what it is. I've shed plenty of tears over this but it's not something that is ever going to change. It does make me feel a little like the love is conditional. Which really sort of sucks.
So, on my own, I am going to try to start putting myself above some other things. I am going to try to get a workout in everyday, and I am going to try to feed myself properly and not be so busy with everyone else that I only have time to grab a sugared up cup of coffee. I am going to work on my mental well being, as well. I can't tell you how much it sucks to be 38 and still feel like crap about your body. How probably now the comparing myself to others nonsense has come back with a vengeance like it hasn't done since middle school. For a long time I was Ok with myself, but something happened to my body image since having these last 2 babies and my self-esteem has just taken a nose dive. And it's all in my head because no one has made me feel that way, I assure you.
So...if anyone out there has any support they can give, I could sure use it. Right now I feel all alone. And it's scary.
Wednesday, November 2, 2016
One Year Ago
One year ago today marks the birth of my 5th baby. I've been running memories of that day through my mind...what I was doing one year ago. One year ago at this time I was getting put back together after my baby had been pulled from my body. I'm trying to savor all of those memories...just in case. Just in case I never get to do this again. Just in case that was my last time. Just in case he is my last baby. I'm trying to hold on to the babyhood, his infancy as long as I possible can. He seems to be helping me with that, in deciding he's not ready to walk just yet and preferring to crawl everywhere like younger baby. And I'm holding on to nursing him for as long as I possibly can.
I have a ton of conflicting emotions about this. Some days, MOST days, I feel so overwhelmed by everything that I just can't imagine doing it pregnant, or with a newborn, or going through these stages AGAIN. And I feel horrible for feeling that way, but it's the truth. The toddler stage is NO JOKE, and it's so hard, and I'm older and less patient. And then things calm down and we have a relatively calm day and I soak in my babies and think how I could do it a million times more. Having such a spread of ages I think adds to the stress, because my brain has to bend and balance teenage woes and toddler meltdowns at the same time, and sometimes mom needs JUST A MINUTE to regroup and reframe and focus. And there's never enough money to do all the things for all the people. But unless we were millionaires that will likely always be the case.
I thank God every night I have this life, that He gave me this chance to be these tiny people's mother. It's messy, and stressful, and there is yelling and fighting, and tears, and laughter. And I would be lying if I said it didn't weigh on my mind every single day if I will get to do this again, one last time. I wonder if my body will even let me (and I don't know what my body is doing due to the Domperidone I am still taking to keep me producing milk so I haven't had a period in months now), and if I am a strong enough person to do this once more...to go through another few years of pregnancy, infancy, toddlerhood. To know that I will likely not get to get rid of al the baby weight and have time for myself until I am well into my 40's. And are those selfish thoughts I shouldn't have?? So many questions floating in my head and time marches on and I speed closer to 39. Is it even responsible for me to have another child at my age? But my heart longs for that completed feeling...and I still feel that longing, that space, that unfinished piece.
I guess I will just keep living my life as I have been, and one way or another I will have my answer eventually. I just have to be okay with letting go and not having the answers right now. I won't know until I know.
Tonight we will have Chinese takeout and homemade birthday cake, and sing to my sweet Baby boy a happy First Birthday. And I will try to ignore that small voice in the back of my mind that wonders if this is the last first birthday I will have. And I will cry, as I am right now, for all of it.
I have a ton of conflicting emotions about this. Some days, MOST days, I feel so overwhelmed by everything that I just can't imagine doing it pregnant, or with a newborn, or going through these stages AGAIN. And I feel horrible for feeling that way, but it's the truth. The toddler stage is NO JOKE, and it's so hard, and I'm older and less patient. And then things calm down and we have a relatively calm day and I soak in my babies and think how I could do it a million times more. Having such a spread of ages I think adds to the stress, because my brain has to bend and balance teenage woes and toddler meltdowns at the same time, and sometimes mom needs JUST A MINUTE to regroup and reframe and focus. And there's never enough money to do all the things for all the people. But unless we were millionaires that will likely always be the case.
I thank God every night I have this life, that He gave me this chance to be these tiny people's mother. It's messy, and stressful, and there is yelling and fighting, and tears, and laughter. And I would be lying if I said it didn't weigh on my mind every single day if I will get to do this again, one last time. I wonder if my body will even let me (and I don't know what my body is doing due to the Domperidone I am still taking to keep me producing milk so I haven't had a period in months now), and if I am a strong enough person to do this once more...to go through another few years of pregnancy, infancy, toddlerhood. To know that I will likely not get to get rid of al the baby weight and have time for myself until I am well into my 40's. And are those selfish thoughts I shouldn't have?? So many questions floating in my head and time marches on and I speed closer to 39. Is it even responsible for me to have another child at my age? But my heart longs for that completed feeling...and I still feel that longing, that space, that unfinished piece.
I guess I will just keep living my life as I have been, and one way or another I will have my answer eventually. I just have to be okay with letting go and not having the answers right now. I won't know until I know.
Tonight we will have Chinese takeout and homemade birthday cake, and sing to my sweet Baby boy a happy First Birthday. And I will try to ignore that small voice in the back of my mind that wonders if this is the last first birthday I will have. And I will cry, as I am right now, for all of it.
Tuesday, August 9, 2016
Where I've Been
Hello Friends! I truly didn't mean to be gone for so long. Shortly after my last post, I went through something I had a hard time dealing with, and I just couldn't bring myself to talk about it. I still can't really. The glossed-over version is that I lost nearly all my breastmilk and my baby wasn't getting enough to eat, and it was a really dark time for me personally. The baby is fine, I worked hard and got my milk back, and maybe one day I will feel brave enough to write the ugly version in case it helps anyone else. But suffice it to say, it was one of those things where my body let me down and it brought up lots of feelings of inadequacy regarding IF and loss.
So the best place to start here is to just update on my life and hopefully get back to regular posting here soon! Let's start with me. I'm doing well. Trying to lose baby weight. Did the 21 day fix a while back and did well, then fell apart. Because I crave Carbs to keep me going and breastfeeding makes me hungry like crazy, and I hate working out. I'm about to kick it into gear though, because I am tired of still looking more than pregnant 9 months later. I turned 38 this summer, and had a moment of freak out about how my TTC days are likey coming to a close. At first I thought I had a timeline down of trying soon, but then I had the issues with my milk and realized how bad I wanted to breastfeed, so I finally made peace with getting this baby through a year of breastfeeding, naturally weaning and seeing what my body will do. I can't be worried about trying to have another baby by 40. And what if it doesn't happen at all? I want to enjoy my moments with this baby boy should he be my last. I don't want to rush time. Plus, it gives me time to get my weight down some which is always helpful.
Baby boy is doing awesome. He is seriously the most happy, chill baby ever. He is super happy to just be here. He nurses and eats like a champ. He loves pretty much anything we feed him. I'm not a fan of jarred baby food, so he has always just gotten whole foods and whatever we are eating. He takes a long morning nap and a short late afternoon one and sleeps 12 hours at night. So I am very spoiled.
The hubby and I celebrated our 16 year anniversary a month ago. We are in a pretty good space where our lives just flow. We still get into spats but it is nothing crazy. We can fuss and be mean to eachother and then it's over. I convinced him to start working out with me at night to help keep me motivated so I hope this works out well for us. We both need to get into shape, so I hope this is what we need.
Toddler boy is...well, he's a toddler! He's every bit of 2.5. He is a sweet and funny little guy. He is SO freaking smart, but most people can't tell because his language is slow. He is saying new things every week, but he is definitely not big to use many words most of the time. He still is screamy and yelling and rather running crazy most of the day. He also finally decided that his little brother isn't so bad and like to kiss him and bring him toys but that's about as far as he goes with it. He loves playing on the iPad so I have tried to put lots of educational apps on there. He has also become a picky and sporadic eater. If I get him to try some off of 2 meals I give him I am lucky. Not worth it to fight over it, this too shall pass.
My teen has had quite the summer. She crashed her bicycle and got a concussion at the beginning of the summer and had post-concussion syndrome. As soon as she got better from that she got her learners permit, and then her wisdom teeth out. She isn't really getting the hang of driving, though. She said she bought it would be easier than it actually is. Oh boy! She is a good kid, but we are still working on some attitude and behavior issues at home. She lost close to 80lbs in the lasts year and because of that and her increased activeness, her cycles are all screwed up, and she went from having them too close together to not at all. Trying to take a wait and see approach and hopefully her body figures it out.
My 10 year old is struggling. He was the baby until Toddler boy came around, and he is just not as mature as the girls were at his age in general. He cries and whines a lot which is difficult to deal with. But he is also a really great kid and big help, and so smart. He loves all things NASCAR so I am learning a lot about that, too. I have been debating changing him to a school closer to where we live now so he can make friends up here, but I also think I want him to have the teachers he will have this year. I'm praying a lot on this. He has an addiction to Minecraft so it's a fight getting him off his iPod to do anything else. I am frequently the bad guy making him give it up at night, or depending on his behavior, all day. I will catch him staying up at all hours playing it and then be tired and cranky the next day.
My Middle Girl got her period a couple weeks ago. So that explains how she has been...up and down. She can get quite mean but, unlike my teen, she is much easier to straighten out and talk out of her moods. As soon as I heard her call my name I knew why she was calling me. She cried like her heart was broken for a good half an hour. She keep saying through sobs how she was too young(she's 11). We sat on her bed once she calmed down and talked about why they say you can't swim, how to get around it, why girls have to get a period, and all those fun things. She had a sleepover the next day so I let the mom know just in case, but my girl is a trooper. And when she found out another girl had gotten hers right after school let out, she was ok. She just didn't want to be the only one.
My pets are all ok. My cat is still happy in the garage, and we put a window A/C unit in there and my husband insulated it so it's climate controlled in there now. Our beagles started getting out of the yard and we realized the invisible fence was broken. Rain had washed the soil down so a part of the wire was above ground and got run over with the lawn mower. It was likely broken for a few weeks before the dogs figured they could get out. My husband was able to fix it and get the line reburied which save some money, as Invisible Fence charges $150 per Hour!! My German Shepard had started hyper shedding and was leaving massive clumps of hair everywhere. I finally went out and bought one of those Furminator brushes and spent about 30 minutes on the deck brushing her out. I could have made another dog with all the fur that came off of her. I guess I am going to have to do this on the regular to keep it under control.
So whats new with all of you???
So the best place to start here is to just update on my life and hopefully get back to regular posting here soon! Let's start with me. I'm doing well. Trying to lose baby weight. Did the 21 day fix a while back and did well, then fell apart. Because I crave Carbs to keep me going and breastfeeding makes me hungry like crazy, and I hate working out. I'm about to kick it into gear though, because I am tired of still looking more than pregnant 9 months later. I turned 38 this summer, and had a moment of freak out about how my TTC days are likey coming to a close. At first I thought I had a timeline down of trying soon, but then I had the issues with my milk and realized how bad I wanted to breastfeed, so I finally made peace with getting this baby through a year of breastfeeding, naturally weaning and seeing what my body will do. I can't be worried about trying to have another baby by 40. And what if it doesn't happen at all? I want to enjoy my moments with this baby boy should he be my last. I don't want to rush time. Plus, it gives me time to get my weight down some which is always helpful.
Baby boy is doing awesome. He is seriously the most happy, chill baby ever. He is super happy to just be here. He nurses and eats like a champ. He loves pretty much anything we feed him. I'm not a fan of jarred baby food, so he has always just gotten whole foods and whatever we are eating. He takes a long morning nap and a short late afternoon one and sleeps 12 hours at night. So I am very spoiled.
The hubby and I celebrated our 16 year anniversary a month ago. We are in a pretty good space where our lives just flow. We still get into spats but it is nothing crazy. We can fuss and be mean to eachother and then it's over. I convinced him to start working out with me at night to help keep me motivated so I hope this works out well for us. We both need to get into shape, so I hope this is what we need.
Toddler boy is...well, he's a toddler! He's every bit of 2.5. He is a sweet and funny little guy. He is SO freaking smart, but most people can't tell because his language is slow. He is saying new things every week, but he is definitely not big to use many words most of the time. He still is screamy and yelling and rather running crazy most of the day. He also finally decided that his little brother isn't so bad and like to kiss him and bring him toys but that's about as far as he goes with it. He loves playing on the iPad so I have tried to put lots of educational apps on there. He has also become a picky and sporadic eater. If I get him to try some off of 2 meals I give him I am lucky. Not worth it to fight over it, this too shall pass.
My teen has had quite the summer. She crashed her bicycle and got a concussion at the beginning of the summer and had post-concussion syndrome. As soon as she got better from that she got her learners permit, and then her wisdom teeth out. She isn't really getting the hang of driving, though. She said she bought it would be easier than it actually is. Oh boy! She is a good kid, but we are still working on some attitude and behavior issues at home. She lost close to 80lbs in the lasts year and because of that and her increased activeness, her cycles are all screwed up, and she went from having them too close together to not at all. Trying to take a wait and see approach and hopefully her body figures it out.
My 10 year old is struggling. He was the baby until Toddler boy came around, and he is just not as mature as the girls were at his age in general. He cries and whines a lot which is difficult to deal with. But he is also a really great kid and big help, and so smart. He loves all things NASCAR so I am learning a lot about that, too. I have been debating changing him to a school closer to where we live now so he can make friends up here, but I also think I want him to have the teachers he will have this year. I'm praying a lot on this. He has an addiction to Minecraft so it's a fight getting him off his iPod to do anything else. I am frequently the bad guy making him give it up at night, or depending on his behavior, all day. I will catch him staying up at all hours playing it and then be tired and cranky the next day.
My Middle Girl got her period a couple weeks ago. So that explains how she has been...up and down. She can get quite mean but, unlike my teen, she is much easier to straighten out and talk out of her moods. As soon as I heard her call my name I knew why she was calling me. She cried like her heart was broken for a good half an hour. She keep saying through sobs how she was too young(she's 11). We sat on her bed once she calmed down and talked about why they say you can't swim, how to get around it, why girls have to get a period, and all those fun things. She had a sleepover the next day so I let the mom know just in case, but my girl is a trooper. And when she found out another girl had gotten hers right after school let out, she was ok. She just didn't want to be the only one.
My pets are all ok. My cat is still happy in the garage, and we put a window A/C unit in there and my husband insulated it so it's climate controlled in there now. Our beagles started getting out of the yard and we realized the invisible fence was broken. Rain had washed the soil down so a part of the wire was above ground and got run over with the lawn mower. It was likely broken for a few weeks before the dogs figured they could get out. My husband was able to fix it and get the line reburied which save some money, as Invisible Fence charges $150 per Hour!! My German Shepard had started hyper shedding and was leaving massive clumps of hair everywhere. I finally went out and bought one of those Furminator brushes and spent about 30 minutes on the deck brushing her out. I could have made another dog with all the fur that came off of her. I guess I am going to have to do this on the regular to keep it under control.
So whats new with all of you???
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