Becoming a new mommy, no matter if it's the 1st, 5th or 10th (dear God, please don't bless me with 10!), brings with it the dreaded all-nighters, late-nighters, no-nighters and whatever else you want to call the sleep deprivation cycle. It starts the moment that little blessing rips a hole through your "secrets". No honeymoon phase allowed...let the sleep-less nights begin! Those demanding little bundles of joy have zero care about the hour(s) of night and even less care about your need for uninterrupted sleep. All they care about is "me", "me", "me".
Good thing God created this to be a joint-force effort between the mother AND the father...wait...I almost got through that without choking on my coffee beans! This particular duty should have been agreed upon before one said "I do" because more often than not, according to any women I have ever talked to, the night-time duties fall on the "To Do" list of the mama. No 50/50 split in responsibility, no turn taking; just "good night, love you, see you in the morning" and the hubby sneaks quietly off to the comforts of laying horizontally in a cushy, soft bed. Jerks!
Sleep deprivation in and of itself is torture enough, but when you add to it all of the other daily tasks as wife and mother, life becomes borderline insanity dipped in delusion sauce. At that point, the only humane thing is to put the poor woman down...if for only an hour of uninterrupted, horizontal sleeping! There has been many a night when trudging through the hells of infant induced sleep deprivation that I have begged, pleaded, and bartered with God to grant me an hour or two of sleep. I've even offered Him sacrifice if that is what He needed to grant me the sweet relief of sleep. Of course, the soul I am always willing to sacrifice belongs to the man sleeping soundly in my bed! On more than one occasion, that man I call the love of my life has claimed to be "sleeping" and unaware of the screaming, crying fits the baby and I were throwing just a few tiny feet away from his body.
I'm calling your bluff! Women aren't the only ones who have learned the art of faking!!
Saturday, May 19, 2012
Friday, May 18, 2012
Vagina Chronicles, Part Deux
54 weeks and counting...that's how long my hubby has been gone. The return date came and went without Lt Hubby being given back to us due to an injury. He is now lost in a sea of paperwork, protocol, and policy. I fear he may never be actually coming home. There are many reasons I was looking forward to the return of my man; he was supposed to join forces with me as my partner in crime against the uprising of our 5 boys (they are planning an overthrow, I can feel it!), I have been waiting patiently (and complaining loudly) for him to reclaim ownership of the chores that I hate, and I was counting down the days for him to rid me of my re-grown virginity! Yep, that's right. I fear my hymen has actually grown back! 54 weeks is a really, REALLY long time!
I'm honestly starting to fear for my own health (and his a little...let's face it!). There's nothing like a little abstinence in the name of patriotism to make you appreciate your spouse in a whole new light. God bless America, indeed! I think I get the patriotic award...Lt Hubby can have an honorable mention. I know he's the one who served, but I think my vagina is taking more hits than she signed up for. Fifth baby was not on the war-time agenda (however, we wouldn't put him back, obviously...he'd never fit!), and the never ending boycott on sex is bordering cruel and unusual punishment! "We the people"....NEED SEX!
My girlfriend even pointed out that I am emitting an "aura" as of lately. It's the I-need-to-do-the-hokey-poky aura! It's so strong I'm even attracting men in the grocery store...with an over flowing cart and 3 of my littles hanging all over me. The glow I'm emitting must be blinding. I either look smokin' hot or my gotta-get-me-some aura is on super charge!
"What about mid-tour?" you may ask. My lady bits were only 8 weeks post trauma and sleep deprivation over runneth. Plus, the other 4 dudes consumed all of the hubby's time, energy, and attention. The poor fella needed sleep more than me! The horizontal mambo didn't even make it onto the "possible" agenda. My poor hubby may be the only soldier (married or single) that didn't get to participate in the "rockin' robin" while home on leave. Obviously my heart goes out to the guy, but in my defense, I'm not gettin' any either!
Any man in camouflage better watch out at this point. I was promised at year end a wham-bam-I-missed-ya-ma'am kind of reunion...but the military kept my sex-er man- with no apologies or promise to give it-er him- back! Oh I'm gonna get me some....I just can't be expected to be responsible for my actions at this stage in the abstinence game (by the way, this game is NO fun) Be warned...I may just "jump" the next camo-clad soldier I see. Take one for the American team, dude!
I'm honestly starting to fear for my own health (and his a little...let's face it!). There's nothing like a little abstinence in the name of patriotism to make you appreciate your spouse in a whole new light. God bless America, indeed! I think I get the patriotic award...Lt Hubby can have an honorable mention. I know he's the one who served, but I think my vagina is taking more hits than she signed up for. Fifth baby was not on the war-time agenda (however, we wouldn't put him back, obviously...he'd never fit!), and the never ending boycott on sex is bordering cruel and unusual punishment! "We the people"....NEED SEX!
My girlfriend even pointed out that I am emitting an "aura" as of lately. It's the I-need-to-do-the-hokey-poky aura! It's so strong I'm even attracting men in the grocery store...with an over flowing cart and 3 of my littles hanging all over me. The glow I'm emitting must be blinding. I either look smokin' hot or my gotta-get-me-some aura is on super charge!
"What about mid-tour?" you may ask. My lady bits were only 8 weeks post trauma and sleep deprivation over runneth. Plus, the other 4 dudes consumed all of the hubby's time, energy, and attention. The poor fella needed sleep more than me! The horizontal mambo didn't even make it onto the "possible" agenda. My poor hubby may be the only soldier (married or single) that didn't get to participate in the "rockin' robin" while home on leave. Obviously my heart goes out to the guy, but in my defense, I'm not gettin' any either!
Any man in camouflage better watch out at this point. I was promised at year end a wham-bam-I-missed-ya-ma'am kind of reunion...but the military kept my sex-er man- with no apologies or promise to give it-er him- back! Oh I'm gonna get me some....I just can't be expected to be responsible for my actions at this stage in the abstinence game (by the way, this game is NO fun) Be warned...I may just "jump" the next camo-clad soldier I see. Take one for the American team, dude!
Monday, April 23, 2012
Dandelion Bouquets, Pockets Full Of Rocks, and Windy's
Motherhood isn't always easy...or enjoyable...or full of gumdrops and rainbows. I often find myself feeling guilty for NOT enjoying all things diapers, tantrums and endless activities. We lift this "motherhood" role up to be the image of perfection. Gentle kisses from mamas to babes, a toddler grasping his mama's hand as they walk through the park, and quiet cuddles on the couch before bedtime. Of course, motherhood is all of those things, but it is also the most labor-intensive (pun intended), dirty, exhausting job a woman will ever have the blessing to do.
Very often I get overwhelmed with my brood of young men, frustrated with their constant, never-ceasing antics, and annoyed that they need my approval and attention for absolutely everything that they do. I complain about never having any "me" time, rarely occupying my throne without witnesses, and the extreme, overwhelming exhaustion that has befallen me this past year sans the hubby. The "mommy?", "mommy!", "mommy" parade grinds my nerves, teenage drama causes me to secretly roll my eyes, and 9 year old jokes seem to have hidden humor that I just don't understand. Tattle tales fill my house and seek my ear for the latest and greatest house-rule debacle. And hiding never seems to work...they smell me out like hound dogs.
Through all of that craziness that can make a mama put Kahlua in her coffee...there is also the sweet, simple moments that keeps us coming back for more. The dandelion bouquet squished in my toddler's hand as he proudly shows me the prized possession he picked especially for me; the pockets full of "special" rocks that make their way into my home and into designated treasure boxes, and the "windy's" that cost an outrageous $4 but provide hours of amazement to my "littles".
Yes, motherhood can be mind-numbingly exhausting...but it is also heart-warmingly intoxicating. From the excitement of bubbles in the backyard to the simplicity of flying kites together, it's all of those simple moments that mother's treasure. My treasure box will be filled with memories of slobbery kisses, dirty little hands that want to be held, late-night teenage talks about girls, and giggles from a 9 year old's jokes. Being a mommy is full of many, many moments...moments that encompass the good, the bad, and yes, even the ugly. But it's what we put in our own treasure boxes that matter most.
Very often I get overwhelmed with my brood of young men, frustrated with their constant, never-ceasing antics, and annoyed that they need my approval and attention for absolutely everything that they do. I complain about never having any "me" time, rarely occupying my throne without witnesses, and the extreme, overwhelming exhaustion that has befallen me this past year sans the hubby. The "mommy?", "mommy!", "mommy" parade grinds my nerves, teenage drama causes me to secretly roll my eyes, and 9 year old jokes seem to have hidden humor that I just don't understand. Tattle tales fill my house and seek my ear for the latest and greatest house-rule debacle. And hiding never seems to work...they smell me out like hound dogs.
Through all of that craziness that can make a mama put Kahlua in her coffee...there is also the sweet, simple moments that keeps us coming back for more. The dandelion bouquet squished in my toddler's hand as he proudly shows me the prized possession he picked especially for me; the pockets full of "special" rocks that make their way into my home and into designated treasure boxes, and the "windy's" that cost an outrageous $4 but provide hours of amazement to my "littles".
Yes, motherhood can be mind-numbingly exhausting...but it is also heart-warmingly intoxicating. From the excitement of bubbles in the backyard to the simplicity of flying kites together, it's all of those simple moments that mother's treasure. My treasure box will be filled with memories of slobbery kisses, dirty little hands that want to be held, late-night teenage talks about girls, and giggles from a 9 year old's jokes. Being a mommy is full of many, many moments...moments that encompass the good, the bad, and yes, even the ugly. But it's what we put in our own treasure boxes that matter most.
Saturday, April 21, 2012
Anatomically Correct?
I love making snowmen in the freshly fallen snow, and I think most of us can summon up childhood memories of snowball fights, snow angels, sledding, and snowmen that we lovingly tied scarves around, topped with hats, and adorned with whatever we could find to make a happy, smiling face. You can drive through any neighborhood in the winter months and find front lawns proudly displaying their snowmen. Each looks similar with three tiers of snow atop each other. The only differences are accessories each snowman boasts. Not in my yard, however! My brood of dudes are unique in every...single...way, even down to how they "accessorize" their snowman.
Hence, the snowman to be found in my yard this past January:
Hence, the snowman to be found in my yard this past January:
Obviously the top carrot is Mr. Snowman's nose, you can't see the rock eyes very well through the "dirty" snow. Blueberries were the mouth (a certain 3 year old ate them, though, before I could snap the picture). And the bottom carrot? Well, this particular snowman is a very well-endowed snowman! Yep, my boys made sure everybody knew this snowman was indeed a MAN. Hence, the "wiener"(my boys' words, not mine!). They proudly insisted mama exit the house to see their snowman...their anatomically correct snowman!!
Friday, April 20, 2012
Let Me Tell You 'Bout the Birds and the Bees
Most of you by this point probably already know a thing or two about the birds and the bees...but what about the birds and the birds?? Don't get all excited...I'm not switching teams or anything crazy like that. I like my men (actually...man. Just one man. I love you honey!) just the same as all of you. But let's be honest, as women we can admit that another woman is beautiful without anyone doubting our femininity or sexuality. Guys aren't allowed that luxury. I doubt any of you have heard your hubby, father, brother, guy-friend talk about how "hot" another man is. He would most assuredly get looks (good and bad, I suppose!) from every direction!
I'm not too proud to admit that there are some hot women out there. And, yes, I have some mom-crushes! (Don't gasp...you have them too!) I think all of us, men and women, can agree that there are some amazingly gorgeous celeb moms. Anyone can look hot with an entourage of "yes men"! With that said, there are some undeniable freaks of nature that, even as a woman, I don't think I would kick out of bed: Miranda Kerr- um, hello! I hate her...but I secretly want to be her; Heidi Klum- she is nicknamed "the body", need I say any more?!; Brooke Burke- humina, humina, humina!; Halle Berry- she could totally be the chocolate on top of my sundae! I could honestly go on and on. (I'm sure all of you just added 2 or 3 to that list...it's ok...no judgment!)
It's unfair for that level of perfection to be the standard, and I'd like to think the universe will get it's revenge someday. What's more unfair, however, is to know actual real moms that could rival some of these beauties! You can find them at the grocery store, little league, soccer fields, and even at your work walking around looking amazing! I love them as people but secretly I wish them acne, stretchmarks and hemorrhoids! Bitterness aside, I still appreciate their beauty...and harbor an ever-so-small crush (all of my mom-friends out there...please don't avoid me like the plague now. Just enjoy the fact that I think you're hot!)!
Face it...the woman as a creature is beautiful (some more so than others...but still!). I can't blame men for being intoxicated by their wonders, wiles, and ways. As women, the cards are clearly stacked in our favor, and our poor guys don't really stand a chance. God clearly broke the mold when he created woman...and as a society, I think we should thank Him for that!
Honestly, there are some women that I want to lick chocolate sauce off of (you do too, you're just too ashamed to admit it!). So the next time you see a hot mama pass your way, just thank her creator...and then curse her with wrinkles and bloating. It only seems fair!
I'm not too proud to admit that there are some hot women out there. And, yes, I have some mom-crushes! (Don't gasp...you have them too!) I think all of us, men and women, can agree that there are some amazingly gorgeous celeb moms. Anyone can look hot with an entourage of "yes men"! With that said, there are some undeniable freaks of nature that, even as a woman, I don't think I would kick out of bed: Miranda Kerr- um, hello! I hate her...but I secretly want to be her; Heidi Klum- she is nicknamed "the body", need I say any more?!; Brooke Burke- humina, humina, humina!; Halle Berry- she could totally be the chocolate on top of my sundae! I could honestly go on and on. (I'm sure all of you just added 2 or 3 to that list...it's ok...no judgment!)
It's unfair for that level of perfection to be the standard, and I'd like to think the universe will get it's revenge someday. What's more unfair, however, is to know actual real moms that could rival some of these beauties! You can find them at the grocery store, little league, soccer fields, and even at your work walking around looking amazing! I love them as people but secretly I wish them acne, stretchmarks and hemorrhoids! Bitterness aside, I still appreciate their beauty...and harbor an ever-so-small crush (all of my mom-friends out there...please don't avoid me like the plague now. Just enjoy the fact that I think you're hot!)!
Face it...the woman as a creature is beautiful (some more so than others...but still!). I can't blame men for being intoxicated by their wonders, wiles, and ways. As women, the cards are clearly stacked in our favor, and our poor guys don't really stand a chance. God clearly broke the mold when he created woman...and as a society, I think we should thank Him for that!
Honestly, there are some women that I want to lick chocolate sauce off of (you do too, you're just too ashamed to admit it!). So the next time you see a hot mama pass your way, just thank her creator...and then curse her with wrinkles and bloating. It only seems fair!
Tuesday, April 17, 2012
Hey Big Spender
I'm all for new stuff...actually shopping, any kind, seems to soothe me (I think my hubby really hates this idiosyncrasy about me) especially when the hubby is gone on an extended "vacation". Something about the excitement of "new", even if it's as simple as a fun, flirty scarf or dangly, sexy earrings, gives me something on which to focus and consume my mind. However, at some point enough is enough. From day 1 of this "vacation", we have been inundated with expense after expense, problem after problem, unexpected purchase after unexpected purchase (but only one trip to the ER....hmmm...interesting). My hubby tends to grow weaker and weaker every time I swipe our card (I have told you that he is allergic to spending money haven't I?) So I am starting to get very concerned about his health!
Case in Point:
* Leaky skylight (took 7 months to finally get someone to actually fix it...awesome!)
* furnace/air conditioner dying without notice (those were some hot June days!)
* Kitchen light and ceiling fan spontaneously malfunctioning...and smoking (Yikes!)
* new washer and dryer (ok...not totally necessary...wait, they really were)
* new water heater and water softener (ahhh...the luxury of a hot shower!)
* passenger window in the mama-wagon (seriously! $500 so it will go up, down, and up again. Eek! Add mechanic to my brother-hubby list.)
Can anyone else feel my hubby's pulse starting to slow?! I'm seriously worried about him. Deployment is dangerous for one's health...in more ways than one. If a future deployment rears its ugly head again, I may have to plead my hubby's case. We can't possibly afford for him to continue to "vacation" abroad (his wife is wrecking the home!)
You would think after that mega list of mishaps I would be done. Nope! The "Service Engine Soon" light came on in the family vehicle, the driver's side window is now being a beyotch and I fear may need to fixed much in the same way the passenger side was repaired, the tie-rod and shocks need replaced...but I'm tired of throwing money into my mama-wagon, the garage door seems to be on its last days...and I fear that will not be the end of the list since I still have almost a month left before hubby comes home from his extended "vacation".
I would ask "what else could go wrong?" but I'm worried about tempting fate (and my hubby's health)! What if fate sees that statement as a challenge??!? I think fate and Murphy (you know..."Murphy's Law") have a personal vendetta against me.
The next expense I want is for hubby to "spend a little time with me"!
Case in Point:
* Leaky skylight (took 7 months to finally get someone to actually fix it...awesome!)
* furnace/air conditioner dying without notice (those were some hot June days!)
* Kitchen light and ceiling fan spontaneously malfunctioning...and smoking (Yikes!)
* new washer and dryer (ok...not totally necessary...wait, they really were)
* new water heater and water softener (ahhh...the luxury of a hot shower!)
* passenger window in the mama-wagon (seriously! $500 so it will go up, down, and up again. Eek! Add mechanic to my brother-hubby list.)
Can anyone else feel my hubby's pulse starting to slow?! I'm seriously worried about him. Deployment is dangerous for one's health...in more ways than one. If a future deployment rears its ugly head again, I may have to plead my hubby's case. We can't possibly afford for him to continue to "vacation" abroad (his wife is wrecking the home!)
You would think after that mega list of mishaps I would be done. Nope! The "Service Engine Soon" light came on in the family vehicle, the driver's side window is now being a beyotch and I fear may need to fixed much in the same way the passenger side was repaired, the tie-rod and shocks need replaced...but I'm tired of throwing money into my mama-wagon, the garage door seems to be on its last days...and I fear that will not be the end of the list since I still have almost a month left before hubby comes home from his extended "vacation".
I would ask "what else could go wrong?" but I'm worried about tempting fate (and my hubby's health)! What if fate sees that statement as a challenge??!? I think fate and Murphy (you know..."Murphy's Law") have a personal vendetta against me.
The next expense I want is for hubby to "spend a little time with me"!
Thursday, April 12, 2012
The Brother-Hubby Plan
As I sat awake with my babe last night, wishing I was laying flat in my bed sound asleep, I pondered how on earth I was going to successfully tackle this next month on my own. Several evenings require me to be in 2 or 3 (or more!) places at once. Now, I know I'm amazing and all, but how am I going to master teleportation?! It's a conundrum is what it is...one to which I need to find a solution.
A light bulb went off last night sometime between the hours of 2am and 6am. It could quite possibly be delirium induced by severe sleep deprivation but my current state of mind thinks it's brilliant! I'm not sure why I hadn't thought of it before...guess I've been a little busy to indulge myself with spontaneous ingenious plans. It seems obvious now in the light of day what needs to happen. I'm just sorry I didn't think of this 11 months ago!
I need to get myself some sister-wives...actually I need the male version...so brother-hubbies! Isn't that a great idea!? I know all of my military wives that face these same predicaments (being in 2 or more places at once, endless lists of things to do, constant household issues, and exhaustion and stress worthy of a trip to the psych ward) are nodding in agreement right now. How silly that none of us thought of this before! It's perfect! This should just be another step in the process of preparing for deployment: "Equipping spouse's home with ample brother-hubbies"!! Check!
Now...I'm going to have to move quickly on this process since my tour of duty is almost over. I don't want this great idea to go to waste...waste not, want not! With that said, on to requirements. I may be tired, stressed, sleep deprived, and overwhelmed...but I still have standards! I'm going to need 2 or 3 qualified, talented (and hot) applicants. Preferably, I would like at least one to be quite skilled in the handyman area (no...that isn't code for anything...sickos!) I am also going to need one that is great with kids and doesn't mind being awake with the babe all night long. And while I'm making a list, I would really like one to be quite skilled in the kitchen (again...not code for anything...get your heads out of the gutter!) Don't get me wrong, a year without a tune-up, and I am more than eager to reintroduce myself to my one and only, true hubby...but I prefer (as does he) that the brother-hubbies aren't granted that high a level of security clearance. My tune-ups are left to my partner in crime!
I can see no real issues or hiccups in my plan. It's flawless! Flawless, I tell you!! Brother-hubbies are a perfect way to end this deployment. All qualified applicants can send me their resume and references along with a current picture. What's love gotta do with it?! We're talking about survival!
Match. Set. Point. Winner- Crystal. This deployment didn't know what hit it!
*Obviously this is more humorous than serious (although, part of me thinks it's a great idea). Please DO NOT send me your information. Take a joke crazies!! Although, David Beckham, if you are reading this, you don't even need to apply...just come on over!
A light bulb went off last night sometime between the hours of 2am and 6am. It could quite possibly be delirium induced by severe sleep deprivation but my current state of mind thinks it's brilliant! I'm not sure why I hadn't thought of it before...guess I've been a little busy to indulge myself with spontaneous ingenious plans. It seems obvious now in the light of day what needs to happen. I'm just sorry I didn't think of this 11 months ago!
I need to get myself some sister-wives...actually I need the male version...so brother-hubbies! Isn't that a great idea!? I know all of my military wives that face these same predicaments (being in 2 or more places at once, endless lists of things to do, constant household issues, and exhaustion and stress worthy of a trip to the psych ward) are nodding in agreement right now. How silly that none of us thought of this before! It's perfect! This should just be another step in the process of preparing for deployment: "Equipping spouse's home with ample brother-hubbies"!! Check!
Now...I'm going to have to move quickly on this process since my tour of duty is almost over. I don't want this great idea to go to waste...waste not, want not! With that said, on to requirements. I may be tired, stressed, sleep deprived, and overwhelmed...but I still have standards! I'm going to need 2 or 3 qualified, talented (and hot) applicants. Preferably, I would like at least one to be quite skilled in the handyman area (no...that isn't code for anything...sickos!) I am also going to need one that is great with kids and doesn't mind being awake with the babe all night long. And while I'm making a list, I would really like one to be quite skilled in the kitchen (again...not code for anything...get your heads out of the gutter!) Don't get me wrong, a year without a tune-up, and I am more than eager to reintroduce myself to my one and only, true hubby...but I prefer (as does he) that the brother-hubbies aren't granted that high a level of security clearance. My tune-ups are left to my partner in crime!
I can see no real issues or hiccups in my plan. It's flawless! Flawless, I tell you!! Brother-hubbies are a perfect way to end this deployment. All qualified applicants can send me their resume and references along with a current picture. What's love gotta do with it?! We're talking about survival!
Match. Set. Point. Winner- Crystal. This deployment didn't know what hit it!
*Obviously this is more humorous than serious (although, part of me thinks it's a great idea). Please DO NOT send me your information. Take a joke crazies!! Although, David Beckham, if you are reading this, you don't even need to apply...just come on over!
Saturday, April 7, 2012
Just A Moment
Ah! The spring is upon us here in the Black Hills....and I love it. The smell of the fresh cut grass and families grilling in the neighborhood. The feel of the warm sunshine on my skin. The sound of the birds singing and children playing. It is a pleasure to my senses. For just a moment today I had the privilege of sitting quietly outside...all by myself. Just sitting...feeling the sunshine, listening to the birds, and watching the clouds dance across the ever-so-blue sky. Only a moment...
Every season offers something new to behold. A new treasure to be found in the midst of the change. Here, the spring promises longer days, brisk nights, and evenings filled with hustle and bustle to and from baseball. Far off are the lazy days of summer that we will bask ourselves in. Now is consumed with schedules and busy-ness...and far too few quiet, gentle moments.
But just for a moment on this Easter weekend, I sat by myself. The moment was fleeting and quickly interrupted by my crew, but for only a moment I breathed in the new, spring air letting it fill my lungs. The slight chill in the air was refreshing. And in that far-too-short moment I watched the clouds travel gently across the perfectly blue sky as I listened to the excited and constant songs of the birds busying themselves in the trees. Just for a moment...it was quiet and calm. A perfect stolen moment to renew and refresh my spirit...a spirit that has been broken and tired. A spirit that has been certain that God mistakenly laid this burden on the wrong woman. Just a small, secret moment...where I saw and was gently reminded of the perfection in God's everything...
Even if for only a moment...it was a moment that God had my attention...a moment that a King held His princess...and moment in the presence of God. Maybe a moment is all it really takes...
Every season offers something new to behold. A new treasure to be found in the midst of the change. Here, the spring promises longer days, brisk nights, and evenings filled with hustle and bustle to and from baseball. Far off are the lazy days of summer that we will bask ourselves in. Now is consumed with schedules and busy-ness...and far too few quiet, gentle moments.
But just for a moment on this Easter weekend, I sat by myself. The moment was fleeting and quickly interrupted by my crew, but for only a moment I breathed in the new, spring air letting it fill my lungs. The slight chill in the air was refreshing. And in that far-too-short moment I watched the clouds travel gently across the perfectly blue sky as I listened to the excited and constant songs of the birds busying themselves in the trees. Just for a moment...it was quiet and calm. A perfect stolen moment to renew and refresh my spirit...a spirit that has been broken and tired. A spirit that has been certain that God mistakenly laid this burden on the wrong woman. Just a small, secret moment...where I saw and was gently reminded of the perfection in God's everything...
Even if for only a moment...it was a moment that God had my attention...a moment that a King held His princess...and moment in the presence of God. Maybe a moment is all it really takes...
Thursday, April 5, 2012
The Truth, The Whole Truth, and Nothing But The Truth
We may say that the truth is the best policy...but do we always believe that statement. The truth isn't always what it's cracked up to be. It can be dirty, harsh, and a little messy. And when it comes to telling the truth about emotions, frustrations, and fears surrounding a deployment, I think the truth is best left somewhere in between black and white. I can't speak for all military families but I know mine prefers to leave "the truth of the matter" in the background. But lately, I've been struggling...and I'm too sleep deprived and over extended to attempt to put on my strong, brave face and conquer the world today. So I'm about to purge a whole lot of truth. You might want to turn back now!
I'm tired. I'm lonely. I'm tired of being lonely. I'm exhausted from holding up the world. I'm overwhelmed from the never-ending list of things to do that I never seem to have time to address. If one more thing goes wrong, breaks, or otherwise malfunctions I am going to lose what's left of my sanity. And quite frankly, I'm not nearly as strong as everyone thinks I am.
Nothing about this twelve month deployment has been fast or easy. The last month is just as hard as the first, the fifth, and the ninth. It may have gone quickly for those around me...that statement is best kept to yourself. Because for my boys and I, THIS HASN'T GONE FAST! I miss my husband every...single...day. Not one day have I NOT thought about him, wondered what he was doing, worried about his safety, and prayed for his return. Not...one...day. His absence affects our daily, hour-by-hour lives...I'm just really good at making YOU think I've got this all under control. My smile and brave face isn't for anyone other than my five princes who are forging this journey with me.
And after I'm done feeling sorry for my tired, over-extended, out-of-shape, would-sell-my-soul-for-a-nap self...I feel guilty for complaining. Because, quite frankly, my hubby would slay dragons to be here to ease my stress and take on the burdens I face here at home. He would face the evils of Hell to have these last 11 months back with his children and to have been present for the birth of his fifth son. And for that, my heart grieves...for every moment of the last 328 days that my boys have missed their daddy and their daddy has missed them. Make no mistake...these last 37 days will be just as hard as the rest.
Make no mistake.
I'm tired. I'm lonely. I'm tired of being lonely. I'm exhausted from holding up the world. I'm overwhelmed from the never-ending list of things to do that I never seem to have time to address. If one more thing goes wrong, breaks, or otherwise malfunctions I am going to lose what's left of my sanity. And quite frankly, I'm not nearly as strong as everyone thinks I am.
Nothing about this twelve month deployment has been fast or easy. The last month is just as hard as the first, the fifth, and the ninth. It may have gone quickly for those around me...that statement is best kept to yourself. Because for my boys and I, THIS HASN'T GONE FAST! I miss my husband every...single...day. Not one day have I NOT thought about him, wondered what he was doing, worried about his safety, and prayed for his return. Not...one...day. His absence affects our daily, hour-by-hour lives...I'm just really good at making YOU think I've got this all under control. My smile and brave face isn't for anyone other than my five princes who are forging this journey with me.
And after I'm done feeling sorry for my tired, over-extended, out-of-shape, would-sell-my-soul-for-a-nap self...I feel guilty for complaining. Because, quite frankly, my hubby would slay dragons to be here to ease my stress and take on the burdens I face here at home. He would face the evils of Hell to have these last 11 months back with his children and to have been present for the birth of his fifth son. And for that, my heart grieves...for every moment of the last 328 days that my boys have missed their daddy and their daddy has missed them. Make no mistake...these last 37 days will be just as hard as the rest.
Make no mistake.
Wednesday, February 22, 2012
They DO Exist!
It's a bird?! It's a plane?! No, actually it resembles something along the lines of...Big Foot! And "it" is me! That's right. I'm talking about my appearance. That once beautiful pregnant glow has faded into the unsightly image of sleep deprived, rarely showered, at-the-end-of-her-rope saskwatch...er, new mama! It has been 4 days and counting since I basked in the world's fastest shower. Without another adult and 4 kids plus one demanding baby, showers have become a sprint! Things don't really get washed as much as it's an attempt at a less-than-thorough rinse to make myself feel better. It's been so long since I've properly applied makeup that I may have forgotten how to do it. And much to my chagrin, my hair has become much more "wash and wear" than I would like.
Have I ever mentioned that I'm not much of a natural girl?? Beauty, at least on my behalf, must be worked for...plucking, coloring, depillatating (not quite sure if that is a word...but in my overly sleep deprived brain it actually makes complete sense!), exfoliating, primping, blow drying, straightening, applying. You get the idea. I'm most assuredly a work in progress. "Beauty is skin deep" my a**! Looking good takes time and work...and lately time elludes me, and I'm too tired to apply the work necessary to show my face in public. The four walls of my house have become my prison...I mean my sactuary!
If anyone has the delusional idea that staying at home with your minion- um children- is glamorous...they should peak in my windows (actually...please don't do that.) Some days I can be found at 3pm still in my pj's from the night before...which were actually the outfit from the day before! Gross? Nope...just being energy efficient and cutting down on laundry. Let's use that reasoning for my recent tendency to avoid bathing: I'm just being environmentally conscious! My house is disheveled, my appearance is scary, and my once desperate attempt to control my portion of the world has flown out the window.
I'd cry for calgon to take me away, but we all know I'm not going to have time to sit in that bath anyway. So until I actually figure out how to duplicate myself, afford a nanny and/or housekeeper, or hell finally freezes over...I'm going to continue to scare the neighborhood children with my saskwatch resemblance!
Have I ever mentioned that I'm not much of a natural girl?? Beauty, at least on my behalf, must be worked for...plucking, coloring, depillatating (not quite sure if that is a word...but in my overly sleep deprived brain it actually makes complete sense!), exfoliating, primping, blow drying, straightening, applying. You get the idea. I'm most assuredly a work in progress. "Beauty is skin deep" my a**! Looking good takes time and work...and lately time elludes me, and I'm too tired to apply the work necessary to show my face in public. The four walls of my house have become my prison...I mean my sactuary!
If anyone has the delusional idea that staying at home with your minion- um children- is glamorous...they should peak in my windows (actually...please don't do that.) Some days I can be found at 3pm still in my pj's from the night before...which were actually the outfit from the day before! Gross? Nope...just being energy efficient and cutting down on laundry. Let's use that reasoning for my recent tendency to avoid bathing: I'm just being environmentally conscious! My house is disheveled, my appearance is scary, and my once desperate attempt to control my portion of the world has flown out the window.
I'd cry for calgon to take me away, but we all know I'm not going to have time to sit in that bath anyway. So until I actually figure out how to duplicate myself, afford a nanny and/or housekeeper, or hell finally freezes over...I'm going to continue to scare the neighborhood children with my saskwatch resemblance!
Saturday, February 4, 2012
Can't Buy Me Love
I'd like to say that I can't be bought...but it turns out that I can! Actually I kind of have a sneaky suspicion that my loving hubby already knows that little tid-bit, but I'm going to give him the benefit of the doubt and assume that he is not "in the know" on this deep, dark, little secret. After all, gifts should be given without any expectation for "payment" in return, right?
Let me back track momentarily and explain to you that laundry (as mentioned numerous times prior) is an on-going battle...one to which I never, ever win! I'm constantly behind in that particular chore. Now one might say that our family is reaching the point at which it could be classified as "large". And with a growing, busy family comes piles, mounds, and heaps of dirty, smelly laundry. And baby has added to the laundry-quandary that has befallen my home (truthfully, how does something so cute and tiny make SO MUCH LAUNDRY?).
Even though my laundry (and family) continues to increase and grow...my washer and dryer have not. They're really designed for a much smaller family...of 2 or 3 maybe! They've been repaired several times, and even though they were trying their hardest, they were not able to keep up with my multiplying minion! Hoodies and jeans could only be washed at a maximum of three at a time. Towels were maxed at 4 or 5. And bedding would take an entire weekend...and STILL not all of the beds would be serviced!
Alas...it was time. Out with the old and in with the new! I am now the proud mama of a shiny pair of blue Samsung, front-loading, energy-efficient washer and dryer. It kind of turned me on, quite honestly (my hubby's gone for a year, cut me some slack!). Hubby set it up with another soldier back home who hooked me up. I would have kissed him...but that would have been all kinds of inappropriate. I left it at a "thank you"..the kisses (and then some *wink *wink) may have to be saved for hubby when he returns.
Oh yeah...I can totally be bought!
Let me back track momentarily and explain to you that laundry (as mentioned numerous times prior) is an on-going battle...one to which I never, ever win! I'm constantly behind in that particular chore. Now one might say that our family is reaching the point at which it could be classified as "large". And with a growing, busy family comes piles, mounds, and heaps of dirty, smelly laundry. And baby has added to the laundry-quandary that has befallen my home (truthfully, how does something so cute and tiny make SO MUCH LAUNDRY?).
Even though my laundry (and family) continues to increase and grow...my washer and dryer have not. They're really designed for a much smaller family...of 2 or 3 maybe! They've been repaired several times, and even though they were trying their hardest, they were not able to keep up with my multiplying minion! Hoodies and jeans could only be washed at a maximum of three at a time. Towels were maxed at 4 or 5. And bedding would take an entire weekend...and STILL not all of the beds would be serviced!
Alas...it was time. Out with the old and in with the new! I am now the proud mama of a shiny pair of blue Samsung, front-loading, energy-efficient washer and dryer. It kind of turned me on, quite honestly (my hubby's gone for a year, cut me some slack!). Hubby set it up with another soldier back home who hooked me up. I would have kissed him...but that would have been all kinds of inappropriate. I left it at a "thank you"..the kisses (and then some *wink *wink) may have to be saved for hubby when he returns.
Oh yeah...I can totally be bought!
Thursday, February 2, 2012
Baby Got Back
I'm a firm believer that every woman should love and embrace her body...no matter what the size or shape. Curves are the new black and sexy as...well, a 50's pin-up girl. Sexy, beautiful, and worthy of a bootie shake...except when I see them in MY mirror; that's when I no longer "feel the love tonight"! I like my boyish, athletic frame. It's a straight line from my shoulders to my ankles...and I like it like that. However, the baby bump that was once so cute is now lacking in its appeal. And I'm not sure who's backside keeps following me around, but it has got to go! The blue moon that's risin' scares the hell out of me, quite frankly! And what on earth happened to my thighs?! My sexy thigh-high boots aren't nearly as sexy when it looks like my thigh is going to eat them!
I know that the Kardashian/J.Lo booties are worthy of coveting thy neighbors "assets", but I prefer to be a lean, mean, fighten' machine (it might only be Laila Ali in my head, but leave me alone...it's my delusion; let me have it!) I brag about push ups and pull ups and would accept most physical challenges. But my post-baby body is letting me down. The only exercise I'm getting is walking new babe around the house trying to get him to just...stop...crying! Carrying the over loaded baskets of laundry up and down the stairs leaves me winded. And on the rare occasion that I actually find myself laying horizontally on my back, I struggle to sit up or roll over without assistance thanks to my no-longer-existent abdominals.
All of that can and will be corrected once I am able to consistently work out again. But what bothers me now is the idea of hubby returning from war to a curvier, more voluptuous wife before I have time to get back into shape. I fear I may scare him back to the war zone! I pray that my hubby embraces "some cushion for the pushin'", but quite honestly I'm afraid I may hurt him. He's not used to handling so much woman!
My plan is to "trick the eye" with Spanx, cinchers, and layers...but what happens when we start removing "the ties that bind"?! I'm not ok with the jiggle or the cushion quite frankly. And let's be completely honest, my curves don't exactly resemble those of a Kardashian...the boobs are not for touching or even being unharnessed (those babies are loaded!), the bootie is about double what I would prefer, the thighs jiggle in a very unflattering way, and the tummy- well it just housed a 9 pound baby! Let's not forget the trauma that just occurred to my girly parts! She's still scared to death to have any visitors!
I hate to break it to my hubby...but I'd say this body is off limits for a good 8-9 months.
I know that the Kardashian/J.Lo booties are worthy of coveting thy neighbors "assets", but I prefer to be a lean, mean, fighten' machine (it might only be Laila Ali in my head, but leave me alone...it's my delusion; let me have it!) I brag about push ups and pull ups and would accept most physical challenges. But my post-baby body is letting me down. The only exercise I'm getting is walking new babe around the house trying to get him to just...stop...crying! Carrying the over loaded baskets of laundry up and down the stairs leaves me winded. And on the rare occasion that I actually find myself laying horizontally on my back, I struggle to sit up or roll over without assistance thanks to my no-longer-existent abdominals.
All of that can and will be corrected once I am able to consistently work out again. But what bothers me now is the idea of hubby returning from war to a curvier, more voluptuous wife before I have time to get back into shape. I fear I may scare him back to the war zone! I pray that my hubby embraces "some cushion for the pushin'", but quite honestly I'm afraid I may hurt him. He's not used to handling so much woman!
My plan is to "trick the eye" with Spanx, cinchers, and layers...but what happens when we start removing "the ties that bind"?! I'm not ok with the jiggle or the cushion quite frankly. And let's be completely honest, my curves don't exactly resemble those of a Kardashian...the boobs are not for touching or even being unharnessed (those babies are loaded!), the bootie is about double what I would prefer, the thighs jiggle in a very unflattering way, and the tummy- well it just housed a 9 pound baby! Let's not forget the trauma that just occurred to my girly parts! She's still scared to death to have any visitors!
I hate to break it to my hubby...but I'd say this body is off limits for a good 8-9 months.
Wednesday, February 1, 2012
The Devil Wears...Spandex?
Being a mama is tough; being a single mama, even if only for a year, is even tougher. However, I'm not usually one to admit defeat...or even accept it. But lately, with the addition to our family, I've started to doubt my "everywoman" status (you know..."Everyman"? the play about how you need to live to save your soul? Come on peeps! Get with the literary program.) Anycrazyplay, back to my delusional I-can-do-all-manage-all-handle-all mental state. What I once thought I could conquer is now my daily Everest, and it never goes away or gets any better. Clothes...always dirty; dishes...always needing emptying and reloading into the dishwasher; house...constantly in disarray; mommy...never showered, shaved or properly groomed! I'm sleep deprived, malnourished and on the brink of a mental breakdown!
Apparently, without my consent or knowledge, I was dethroned...about 5 weeks ago. My ruler is now 23 inches long, 11 lbs 14 oz, blonde hair, blue eyes and a dictator of the boobies. Milk must be constantly on tap and at his disposal...24/7! Not only are my breasts being held hostage (you DO remember what happens to the boobs once baby has staked his claim, right?), but my nether regions may never, ever recover from the natural disaster that blasted through them. Like Hurricane Katrina, that 9 pound bowling ball that came rolling out of my vagina blasted through and destroyed everything in its path. My hubby's favorite playground may be out of commission far longer than he would like! And my post-baby body (which my children so lovingly informed me looks like "another baby is going to come out"...seriously!?! I wasn't even in real underwear yet when they "complimented" my curves!) leaves me frustrated, annoyed, and ready to cry at the drop of a hat.
My older children have learned, unfortunately, that a sleep-deprived, malnourished (baby doesn't like ANYTHING that I eat...I've resorted to bread and water), hasn't had sex in 8 1/2 months (honestly, I'm totally ok not having sex while preggo but I AM starting to think that the possibility of my hymen growing back is highly likely), never gets to have a hot, regular shower mama...isn't one with whom you should mess, irritate, or disturb if eyes are closed!
Generally, I would say the devil wears Prada..or at least a red dress. But in our house...it appears the devil wears size large yoga pants, granny panties, and a big, baggy t-shirt, void of makeup or groomed hair...and answers in a growl to the word "mom"!
Apparently, without my consent or knowledge, I was dethroned...about 5 weeks ago. My ruler is now 23 inches long, 11 lbs 14 oz, blonde hair, blue eyes and a dictator of the boobies. Milk must be constantly on tap and at his disposal...24/7! Not only are my breasts being held hostage (you DO remember what happens to the boobs once baby has staked his claim, right?), but my nether regions may never, ever recover from the natural disaster that blasted through them. Like Hurricane Katrina, that 9 pound bowling ball that came rolling out of my vagina blasted through and destroyed everything in its path. My hubby's favorite playground may be out of commission far longer than he would like! And my post-baby body (which my children so lovingly informed me looks like "another baby is going to come out"...seriously!?! I wasn't even in real underwear yet when they "complimented" my curves!) leaves me frustrated, annoyed, and ready to cry at the drop of a hat.
My older children have learned, unfortunately, that a sleep-deprived, malnourished (baby doesn't like ANYTHING that I eat...I've resorted to bread and water), hasn't had sex in 8 1/2 months (honestly, I'm totally ok not having sex while preggo but I AM starting to think that the possibility of my hymen growing back is highly likely), never gets to have a hot, regular shower mama...isn't one with whom you should mess, irritate, or disturb if eyes are closed!
Generally, I would say the devil wears Prada..or at least a red dress. But in our house...it appears the devil wears size large yoga pants, granny panties, and a big, baggy t-shirt, void of makeup or groomed hair...and answers in a growl to the word "mom"!
Monday, January 9, 2012
Welcome To The Family
Sorry for the delay. I've wanted to share our exciting news with everybody sooner, but mommy being split 5 ways has left me with little to no "free" time...Ok...NO free time. I don't even pee very often, and I rarely shower.
I've learned that multitasking while sleep deprived is ill-advised. So since the 8yo is loving on his baby sibling, I thought I'd steal a moment to share with you our baby news.
We had a.......................................boy! Yes, another one! Now I have 5 little princes (but I'm still the Queen!) He was born the night of December 27 at 9lbs 2.6oz and 22 inches long. Quite a big dude!
Please welcome to our Kingdom, Tucker Casey!
I've learned that multitasking while sleep deprived is ill-advised. So since the 8yo is loving on his baby sibling, I thought I'd steal a moment to share with you our baby news.
We had a.......................................boy! Yes, another one! Now I have 5 little princes (but I'm still the Queen!) He was born the night of December 27 at 9lbs 2.6oz and 22 inches long. Quite a big dude!
Please welcome to our Kingdom, Tucker Casey!
Sunday, December 25, 2011
Stories of Christmas
I love holiday stories...the craziness of all the family, the hustle and bustle of preparation, and the debacles that seem to ensue when you mash everybody into one house. This year is a little different for us. Baby #5 is due on Christmas day, and daddy is off saving the world. It's just me and 4 little boys...waiting on one to arrive...and praying for the safety of another. Obviously, there is no traveling on my part this year...but I still wanted to share one of my favorite Christmas stories.
Ghost of Christmas Past
I hope you and yours have a wonderful Christmas! Enjoy the hilarities of the family being together, and if you wouldn't mind, send up a couple prayers and thanks for all of those soldiers serving away from home this holiday season.
Ghost of Christmas Past
I hope you and yours have a wonderful Christmas! Enjoy the hilarities of the family being together, and if you wouldn't mind, send up a couple prayers and thanks for all of those soldiers serving away from home this holiday season.
Friday, December 23, 2011
Not Sure If We Made The Naughty Or Nice List
I'd like to pretend that my boys (and myself) are perfect little angels all the time...but we all know that is quite impossible and most assuredly far from the truth. We all have our moments; some of us have our days (and some people are just born with a stick up the unknown) but that doesn't mean we are destined to find coal in our stockings....does it??
I tend to find the things my kids say and do (for the most part) pretty funny. Honestly laughing at them gets me through the days...especially now that I have to be separated from my beloved glass of wine in the evenings! But will Santa see it the same way?
* my 3yo busted in on me while I was on the throne (pretty typical, actually), bent his little hiny toward me, giggled and said, "kiss the butt"
* while mini golfing with my four boys at the end of summer I actually told our 3 yo, "Don't touch other people's balls". Ok...maybe that could be a life's lesson.
* the 5yo about the 3yo who was currently throwing a tantrum, "He wears me out". I agree, dude!
* the 3yo came running down the hall to tattle on his 5yo brother, "TJ plugged me in the toilet!" I'm not really sure what went down or who was guilty of what...but I'm going to stick with "all's well that ends well".
* this summer when the youngest was still 2 years old, he would always tell me with a scowl and a gruff voice, "I bizzy" (aka...I'm busy) whenever I would ask or tell him to do something. It's just too hilarious to scold him...I'm sure we know where he learned that phrase anyway!
* we were leaving the orthopedic surgeon for my oldest son. He and the 5yo went to the bathroom quick before we left. The oldest comes out of the bathroom laughing (always a good sign) eager to relay what his little brother asked him. As the 5yo looked in the mirror while washing his hands he asked his bigger, wiser brother, "Does this dark hair make my butt look big?" Ha!! Daddy needs to come home! He is OBVIOUSLY hanging out with mommy too much!!
* with the nausea that accompanies early pregnancy, we tend to eat out more often than usual. My oldest saw a Taco John's commercial and came to relay to me what he wanted that night for supper. "Mom! Can we go out for chuepalupas?" Um...do you mean chalupas??! HA!!
* my 5yo has always been quite attached to his daddy. This fall he came up to me and with the most sincere tone stated, "If I was a superhero, I could use my super powers to help dad. he could use my superhero sword to fight the bad guys. But I'm not a superhero." And he hung his little head and walked away. Kind of breaks your heart.
* We were watching the football game. The Jets were playing and in all of the innocence of a little boy, my 5yo states that he is, "cheering for the Rockets"...you know because Big Jet on Little Einsteins is always the bad guy. Gotta love how kids see the world!
I tend to find the things my kids say and do (for the most part) pretty funny. Honestly laughing at them gets me through the days...especially now that I have to be separated from my beloved glass of wine in the evenings! But will Santa see it the same way?
* my 3yo busted in on me while I was on the throne (pretty typical, actually), bent his little hiny toward me, giggled and said, "kiss the butt"
* while mini golfing with my four boys at the end of summer I actually told our 3 yo, "Don't touch other people's balls". Ok...maybe that could be a life's lesson.
* the 5yo about the 3yo who was currently throwing a tantrum, "He wears me out". I agree, dude!
* the 3yo came running down the hall to tattle on his 5yo brother, "TJ plugged me in the toilet!" I'm not really sure what went down or who was guilty of what...but I'm going to stick with "all's well that ends well".
* this summer when the youngest was still 2 years old, he would always tell me with a scowl and a gruff voice, "I bizzy" (aka...I'm busy) whenever I would ask or tell him to do something. It's just too hilarious to scold him...I'm sure we know where he learned that phrase anyway!
* we were leaving the orthopedic surgeon for my oldest son. He and the 5yo went to the bathroom quick before we left. The oldest comes out of the bathroom laughing (always a good sign) eager to relay what his little brother asked him. As the 5yo looked in the mirror while washing his hands he asked his bigger, wiser brother, "Does this dark hair make my butt look big?" Ha!! Daddy needs to come home! He is OBVIOUSLY hanging out with mommy too much!!
* with the nausea that accompanies early pregnancy, we tend to eat out more often than usual. My oldest saw a Taco John's commercial and came to relay to me what he wanted that night for supper. "Mom! Can we go out for chuepalupas?" Um...do you mean chalupas??! HA!!
* my 5yo has always been quite attached to his daddy. This fall he came up to me and with the most sincere tone stated, "If I was a superhero, I could use my super powers to help dad. he could use my superhero sword to fight the bad guys. But I'm not a superhero." And he hung his little head and walked away. Kind of breaks your heart.
* We were watching the football game. The Jets were playing and in all of the innocence of a little boy, my 5yo states that he is, "cheering for the Rockets"...you know because Big Jet on Little Einsteins is always the bad guy. Gotta love how kids see the world!
Thursday, December 22, 2011
To Epidural or Not To Epidural? That Is The Question.
It's 3 days until my due date, but honestly, I probably won't have this baby for another week or so (I must have a very cozy womb...they are usually forced to leave!) Hubby won't be here for the birth. It's a decision we made together. His job right now is saving the world and taking care of his troops. I've got this end of things under control. However, with that said, I am slightly nervous about going into labor/delivery without him. He calms me...relaxes me...and knows not to say a word! Actually, by #5 we are a well-oiled machine. But he won't be in there with me, and that's where my problem starts.
I'm not sure how I'm going to handle the pain without him. His job is to rub whatever I need rubbing- usually my feet- until Dr says it's "go time". I can be bossy or snippity with him and know that he will love me tomorrow and not think any less of me. With two girlfriends subbing in for my hubby in the room with me, I'm going to be less comfortable bossing them around. So I'm a little concerned that I won't be able to relax and breathe my way through delivery.
Truth be told, I'm usually a "do-it-myself" kind of girl. The idea of an epidural has me freaking out...so I've never tried it. (Plus, I'm a self-proclaimed tough girl who doesn't like asking for help.) I need some solid, un-biased advice from the "been there, done that's" of the world. What do you think? Am I going to be brave enough to get the epidural? And do you think it's a good idea??
I'm not sure how I'm going to handle the pain without him. His job is to rub whatever I need rubbing- usually my feet- until Dr says it's "go time". I can be bossy or snippity with him and know that he will love me tomorrow and not think any less of me. With two girlfriends subbing in for my hubby in the room with me, I'm going to be less comfortable bossing them around. So I'm a little concerned that I won't be able to relax and breathe my way through delivery.
Truth be told, I'm usually a "do-it-myself" kind of girl. The idea of an epidural has me freaking out...so I've never tried it. (Plus, I'm a self-proclaimed tough girl who doesn't like asking for help.) I need some solid, un-biased advice from the "been there, done that's" of the world. What do you think? Am I going to be brave enough to get the epidural? And do you think it's a good idea??
Wednesday, December 21, 2011
I Feel Pretty, Oh, So Pretty, I Feel Pretty and Witty and Bright!
Actually, I don't find the pretty in the pregnant...at least not on myself. Honestly, I think OTHER pregnant ladies are adorable...maybe I'm too close to it to appreciate its beauty. But the truth of the matter is...to survive pregnancy, you better have a great sense of humor. Yeah, you're creating life, and it's a blessing and blah, blah, blah. The reality is...being pregnant is a hoot!
Case in point: every Dr appointment, we preggos are privileged to experience the task of peeing in a cup. The first trimester this is merely an unavoidable task on a checklist that the nurses diligently employ. In the second trimester, this task begins to get a little more complicated but still very do-able. Bring on the third trimester! This task has become virtually impossible. Not only do I get to partake of this event several times a month, but it truly is now a task that has become laughable. I would love to be a fly on the wall as I attempt this feat! Well into my 39th week, my arms can barely reach around my tummy to even position the cup in the area I believe to be my hoo-ha! And "seeing" what I'm doing is a laughable suggestion. I enter this weekly task hoping to just hit the cup with enough "goods" to appease the nurse without spilling, losing my balance, or peeing (too much) all over my hand.
Now...on to the current status of my once immaculately groomed nether regions! I haven't seen my yanna benieni in months...I have NO idea what her state of affairs looks like! Shaving my special place has become much less of a science than I would like it to be and more of a free-for-all. For all I know, I could have a patchwork design going on down there...hopefully delivery room nurses don't judge!
I have also been surprised to learn that I have become what is know to be a bad a**. I always wanted to be one of those super tough, edgy girls. Unfortunately, I missed the mark. Actually, the arse to which I'm referring has popped up...behind me. I discovered it in the mirror the other day staring back at me when I had the misfortune of trying to sneak a peak! I was shocked and horrified as, indeed, my bad a** was flashing me a fuller moon than I would care to admit. I'm SO glad my hubby is saving the world and isn't subject to my pandemic posterior problem!
Maternity apparel now resembles spandex...even the XL shirts I once thought I would never fit. Shirts are too short to cover the belly...and I don't even care. I'm considering buying myself some leg warmers and rockin' the complete 80's fitness instructor look! I think I could pull it off. It would be fun to try anyway. I actually quite enjoy the crazy looks I get from people!
Since there is really no way around the "changes" that come with pregnancy, I figure laughing about it eases the disappointment of realizing my body may never be the same. So I had my boys paint my toenails in "Trophy Wife"...I can't even see my toes let alone reach them, and I painted my finger nails in "Pedal to the Medal"...I'm planning on finishing out my last days as an over-stuffed heffalump in style!
Case in point: every Dr appointment, we preggos are privileged to experience the task of peeing in a cup. The first trimester this is merely an unavoidable task on a checklist that the nurses diligently employ. In the second trimester, this task begins to get a little more complicated but still very do-able. Bring on the third trimester! This task has become virtually impossible. Not only do I get to partake of this event several times a month, but it truly is now a task that has become laughable. I would love to be a fly on the wall as I attempt this feat! Well into my 39th week, my arms can barely reach around my tummy to even position the cup in the area I believe to be my hoo-ha! And "seeing" what I'm doing is a laughable suggestion. I enter this weekly task hoping to just hit the cup with enough "goods" to appease the nurse without spilling, losing my balance, or peeing (too much) all over my hand.
Now...on to the current status of my once immaculately groomed nether regions! I haven't seen my yanna benieni in months...I have NO idea what her state of affairs looks like! Shaving my special place has become much less of a science than I would like it to be and more of a free-for-all. For all I know, I could have a patchwork design going on down there...hopefully delivery room nurses don't judge!
I have also been surprised to learn that I have become what is know to be a bad a**. I always wanted to be one of those super tough, edgy girls. Unfortunately, I missed the mark. Actually, the arse to which I'm referring has popped up...behind me. I discovered it in the mirror the other day staring back at me when I had the misfortune of trying to sneak a peak! I was shocked and horrified as, indeed, my bad a** was flashing me a fuller moon than I would care to admit. I'm SO glad my hubby is saving the world and isn't subject to my pandemic posterior problem!
Maternity apparel now resembles spandex...even the XL shirts I once thought I would never fit. Shirts are too short to cover the belly...and I don't even care. I'm considering buying myself some leg warmers and rockin' the complete 80's fitness instructor look! I think I could pull it off. It would be fun to try anyway. I actually quite enjoy the crazy looks I get from people!
Since there is really no way around the "changes" that come with pregnancy, I figure laughing about it eases the disappointment of realizing my body may never be the same. So I had my boys paint my toenails in "Trophy Wife"...I can't even see my toes let alone reach them, and I painted my finger nails in "Pedal to the Medal"...I'm planning on finishing out my last days as an over-stuffed heffalump in style!
Thursday, December 15, 2011
Let's Talk About Sex Baby!
I've been married for quite a long time...12 years in fact. And I think one of the perks of marriage is sex. Come on, people...you have sex, too! 12 (ok...maybe a couple more years than that...shhh!) years of sex with the same person is actually a luxury...no weird surprises, no worries about him calling in the morning, and hey, I know what my man likes! With your spouse there aren't many unfortunate bedroom debacles, you're allowed and encouraged to try new things, and judgement is kept to the minimum.
With all of that said (and now that I've made you all SUPER uncomfortable), I want to address the issue of sex...during pregnancy. I don't think its an area, issue, or act of torture that should be breached. Basically the possibility should be completely off the table! If there is any dude reading this: trust me, she doesn't really want to, no it wasn't good for her, and yes, she really just wants a back rub! There is already a 3-ring circus going on up in my uterus...we don't need to "send in the clowns" too. If the baby moves the wrong way, there is a high possibility that I'm going to pee my pants...or you! And the idea of what my vagina actually has to do at the end of this pregnancy is reason enough to leave her the heck alone!
I find it ludicrous that sex is actually encouraged during pregnancy and doctor recommended once you reach the ever-so-pleasant status of "OVER DUE"! Ew...I'm big, awkward, sleep deprived and frankly, when pregnant, full of gas! Do you really, REALLY, want to "tap that a**?"! Yes, the boobs may look fantastic, but they aren't for you! These babies have a very important, and not so glamorous, job to look forward to. They just want to be left alone! Not to mention that I both feel and look like an overstuffed turkey. You can keep your "garnish" to yourself, please.
So even though I think sex during marriage is one of the most important things you can do together as a couple, I am 100% against "marital bonding" while in the midst of pregnancy. Good thing for my hubby, he is off saving the world! Honestly, he probably has more "opportunity" over there...but I highly discourage that kind of extracurricular activity. So...unfortunately for him whether at home or at war, if I'm pregnant there is a "no touching" rule in effect!
With all of that said (and now that I've made you all SUPER uncomfortable), I want to address the issue of sex...during pregnancy. I don't think its an area, issue, or act of torture that should be breached. Basically the possibility should be completely off the table! If there is any dude reading this: trust me, she doesn't really want to, no it wasn't good for her, and yes, she really just wants a back rub! There is already a 3-ring circus going on up in my uterus...we don't need to "send in the clowns" too. If the baby moves the wrong way, there is a high possibility that I'm going to pee my pants...or you! And the idea of what my vagina actually has to do at the end of this pregnancy is reason enough to leave her the heck alone!
I find it ludicrous that sex is actually encouraged during pregnancy and doctor recommended once you reach the ever-so-pleasant status of "OVER DUE"! Ew...I'm big, awkward, sleep deprived and frankly, when pregnant, full of gas! Do you really, REALLY, want to "tap that a**?"! Yes, the boobs may look fantastic, but they aren't for you! These babies have a very important, and not so glamorous, job to look forward to. They just want to be left alone! Not to mention that I both feel and look like an overstuffed turkey. You can keep your "garnish" to yourself, please.
So even though I think sex during marriage is one of the most important things you can do together as a couple, I am 100% against "marital bonding" while in the midst of pregnancy. Good thing for my hubby, he is off saving the world! Honestly, he probably has more "opportunity" over there...but I highly discourage that kind of extracurricular activity. So...unfortunately for him whether at home or at war, if I'm pregnant there is a "no touching" rule in effect!
Wednesday, December 14, 2011
The Princess and The Pea...Or Watermelon
I've been pretty candid in the past about my diva-esque bedtime rules. As a mama, sleep has an entirely different meaning to me than it did before having kids. It's the most coveted prize at the end of my days. Once you enter pregnancy, sleep (and food) becomes the only thing of which you think, focus, and search to find. You can't possibly understand until you are actually pregnant...can I get a collective nod from all the mamas out there...because I know you know what I'm talking about!
However, even though sleep is the desire of my heart, pregnancy and sleep don't always mix...kind of like parenting and partying. They just simply don't go together. Blame it on the blossoming body, the growing baby, or the "other issues" that accompany this "beautiful time"...but sleep isn't as simple and easy as it sounds. I've become super high maintenance and unreasonable and without hubby here to take the fall, I've had to endure alone.
My bedtime ritual is complex and exhausting at best. Per doctor's orders, I ingest one banana and 2 TUMS every night before bed in hopes of avoiding the cramping that takes over every night from the waist down. I didn't even know that the muscles in the feet could cramp, but they can and will, and they are most unforgiving! Even the under-worked muscles in my gluteus maximus cramp! I'm very certain I've never had cheeks quite so tight as when the cramp is in full force! However, with the ever-growing babe taking up all space (whether it was previously occupied by something or not), I suffer from some kind of reflux from the banana/TUMS/water bedtime snack causing me to now have to prop myself upright for half of the night in order to keep everything else down. So with 5-6 pillows propped around me, I attempt to drift into la-la land for some sweet relief.
Unfortunately, my unconscious self truly enjoys self-torture! I am prone to back-sleeping which is an unfortunate position to find oneself in the middle of the night without anyone to help roll me over! I am literally a beached whale at that point swaying back and forth hoping to gain enough momentum to roll myself off the bed. Sexy to watch, I'm sure!
And if all of that wasn't enough, pregnancy seems to make me...um...stinkier than normal. Babies give me gas! And not just quiet, girly toots (you know we all have them...just walk away and pretend it NEVER happened)...no, I'm full-on, able to challenge my boys, fumigating rooms, stinky! I have no idea what causes it...but at night it's in full force and I am stuck, literally, in the bed to suffer alone. Tormenting my hubby at this point in pregnancy is really the only joy in which I can revel. Misery loves company... the hubby should have to suffer through, too!
However, even though sleep is the desire of my heart, pregnancy and sleep don't always mix...kind of like parenting and partying. They just simply don't go together. Blame it on the blossoming body, the growing baby, or the "other issues" that accompany this "beautiful time"...but sleep isn't as simple and easy as it sounds. I've become super high maintenance and unreasonable and without hubby here to take the fall, I've had to endure alone.
My bedtime ritual is complex and exhausting at best. Per doctor's orders, I ingest one banana and 2 TUMS every night before bed in hopes of avoiding the cramping that takes over every night from the waist down. I didn't even know that the muscles in the feet could cramp, but they can and will, and they are most unforgiving! Even the under-worked muscles in my gluteus maximus cramp! I'm very certain I've never had cheeks quite so tight as when the cramp is in full force! However, with the ever-growing babe taking up all space (whether it was previously occupied by something or not), I suffer from some kind of reflux from the banana/TUMS/water bedtime snack causing me to now have to prop myself upright for half of the night in order to keep everything else down. So with 5-6 pillows propped around me, I attempt to drift into la-la land for some sweet relief.
Unfortunately, my unconscious self truly enjoys self-torture! I am prone to back-sleeping which is an unfortunate position to find oneself in the middle of the night without anyone to help roll me over! I am literally a beached whale at that point swaying back and forth hoping to gain enough momentum to roll myself off the bed. Sexy to watch, I'm sure!
And if all of that wasn't enough, pregnancy seems to make me...um...stinkier than normal. Babies give me gas! And not just quiet, girly toots (you know we all have them...just walk away and pretend it NEVER happened)...no, I'm full-on, able to challenge my boys, fumigating rooms, stinky! I have no idea what causes it...but at night it's in full force and I am stuck, literally, in the bed to suffer alone. Tormenting my hubby at this point in pregnancy is really the only joy in which I can revel. Misery loves company... the hubby should have to suffer through, too!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)