I have less then 10 weeks until our little girl makes her big arrival. I have some very mixed emotions about the whole thing. Of course I am so excited and I can't wait to see her and hold her, but I am also scared for a bazillion different reasons.
First, will my son react poorly to all the attention his sister gets? I really want to make sure that he knows how much we love him and that this baby is just someone else to love and not a replacement.
I am worried that I will be a tired monster and that all of those sleepless nights will equate to tearful fights with the hubby.
I am also sad that I will not have very much leave this time around. I think that I will have enough leave to take off a full 6 weeks and then work part time for two more. That is just not enough. I have friends who took off between 4-6 months and sadly that is just not a luxury I have. I could of course take unpaid leave, but as the main breadwinner we could not survive financially if I did.
And my last fear is very selfish and silly and if anyone actually read this blog I would be embaressed for even saying it. But I am afraid of what my body will look like. So far I have gained almost 30lbs, and I still have 10 more weeks. With Bodhi I gained 35lbs, but was able to drop 90% of it by the time I came home from the hospital. And even then I knew I would be getting pregnant again so I wasn't too concerned with "getting into shape". But this time is the last time, and I know I need to get into shape. I know that I can't start working out right away, but hopefully with the better weather we can go for lots of walks. And I guess I will have to stop asking Jay to go to the store to buy me ice cream and cookies!!
Thursday, March 10, 2011
Tuesday, March 1, 2011
My job gives me a headache
Up until about two years ago I really liked my job. I have been with the same organization since 2002 and doing primarily the same job, but with extra things thrown in each year. Being pregnant definitely changes things though. I am a chemist, so when I am pregnant I can't touch any chemicals. It can be a challenge to find something interesting and meaningful to do while I am pregnant, but this time around I have been up to my ears in work.
I review data from other labs and I take it very seriously. So much so that people wonder why I am questioning the words of others. Well, if I am going to put my signature on something I want to believe in it. I want to know that the data is good, and not just trust what someone else says. And of course, people give me grief when I question them or the data, but I don't care. I take pride in my work whether its on the bench or at my desk.
I review data from other labs and I take it very seriously. So much so that people wonder why I am questioning the words of others. Well, if I am going to put my signature on something I want to believe in it. I want to know that the data is good, and not just trust what someone else says. And of course, people give me grief when I question them or the data, but I don't care. I take pride in my work whether its on the bench or at my desk.
Sunday, February 27, 2011
This time around
This pregnancy has been very different then the first time around. When I was pregnant with Bubba I could sleep in on the weekends, I had the energy to cook whole grain, vegetable-laden meals and get a dose of daily exercise. This time I have a toddler who wakes up at seven yelling "mommy" over and over again, eating a bowl of cereal for dinner while my kid eats a quesedilla (on the nights that dad works) and my only exercise is chasing Bubba around to put on a shirt or wipe his butt.
I am hoping that after the baby is here things will be different too. Mr. Mom wasn't a Mr. Mom when Bubba was born. He worked 40 hours a week at a corporate job and I was home alone with an infant that some days seemed to not want to nap and only wanted to cry. I hated breastfeeding. I was on the phone, on the internet scouring sources for why it hurt so much. My kid was latched correctly but no one tells you that it hurts for the first couple of weeks. And it was January. So it was cold and snowy and I never felt like I could not leave the house. This time around I am due in May, which I hope will be glorious and sunny, cue the singing birds. This time around Mr. Mom will be home and I wont feel so isolated while on maternity leave. This time around I know that breastfeeding hurts and wont be embarrassed by the whole process. Am I being naive? Probably. I will have a clingy toddler who wont understand why mommy cant hold him too. I do not have nearly as much leave saved up for maternity leave as I did the first time and I seem to have forgotten the zombie-like existence new parents endure for the first weeks/months of a newborns life.
But regardless of all of the good and bad things that are coming in May I am so excited to see my little girl for the first time. For her brother who talks about her non-stop to finally meet her. And finally for my family to be whole, the perfect family that I never dreamed of.
I am hoping that after the baby is here things will be different too. Mr. Mom wasn't a Mr. Mom when Bubba was born. He worked 40 hours a week at a corporate job and I was home alone with an infant that some days seemed to not want to nap and only wanted to cry. I hated breastfeeding. I was on the phone, on the internet scouring sources for why it hurt so much. My kid was latched correctly but no one tells you that it hurts for the first couple of weeks. And it was January. So it was cold and snowy and I never felt like I could not leave the house. This time around I am due in May, which I hope will be glorious and sunny, cue the singing birds. This time around Mr. Mom will be home and I wont feel so isolated while on maternity leave. This time around I know that breastfeeding hurts and wont be embarrassed by the whole process. Am I being naive? Probably. I will have a clingy toddler who wont understand why mommy cant hold him too. I do not have nearly as much leave saved up for maternity leave as I did the first time and I seem to have forgotten the zombie-like existence new parents endure for the first weeks/months of a newborns life.
But regardless of all of the good and bad things that are coming in May I am so excited to see my little girl for the first time. For her brother who talks about her non-stop to finally meet her. And finally for my family to be whole, the perfect family that I never dreamed of.
Thursday, February 24, 2011
My first attempt with Modge Podge
I don't know if its being pregnant or some latent desire to be crafty, but I have been scouring craft blogs lately. I have come across a ton of incredibly creative women and one product that everyone seems to be familiar with was Modge Podge. This glue-type substance seemed really forgiving for someone like me with not much crafting experience or talent. So over the course of a three day weekend I made three pieces of "art" and somehow convinced the hubby to hang them.
For baby girls room.
We are going for an art nouveau theme for her nursery.
More pictures to come.
Also for her room.
For Bodhi's room.
We put up a bunch of vinyl ABC's all over his room,
which he promptly pulled down.
Hopefully this will last longer!
For the living room. And yes, I know there is no punctuation.
I have a another really large piece that I have only painted. I have the supplies, but am kinda scared because it is a very large piece and takes a bit more creativity then I think I have. When I get it done I will be sure to post it.
My next plunge into being crafty is to make a bed skirt and window valence for the nursery. But since I don't sew, I have been investigating the ways to make it with just an iron and product called Stitch Witchery. We will see how that goes...
Tuesday, February 22, 2011
A review of my daily breakdown
I feel like I should put a disclaimer on this post. I love my mother-in-law. But sometimes I just can't stand her.
Almost two years ago my husband's father died suddenly and it totally changed our world. Since then Jay and I have had the same argument over and over again. We somehow have taken over the responsibility of taking care of my MIL. She is not an invalid, she is not incompetent, she is just needy. My husband accompanies her to her meetings with the financial guy, the lawyer, the accountant, etc. All because as a stay-at-home dad, he doesn't have a "real job". He doesn't have to take time off or ask his boss to go to a 10:30 meeting across town. And every time he asks her to take care of it on her own, she makes him feel guilty and he eventually caves. This is where our fights begin.
I want him to cut the cord and force her to do things for herself. Just like our son and potty training; if you want to stop wiping his butt, then he needs to learn to do it himself. He feels that this is his responsibility, his father's spirit telling him to help her. I try to tell him that his father would not want this burden for him and that he has two older siblings that could help out. So we fight because I don't want this to be a forever thing. And we fight because he gets nothing done at home when he has to help her during the day.
I do want to add a bit of snarky commentary. We are the only functioning couple of her three kids. We have a happy marriage, while her two other children have three failed marriages between them. And while its not all her fault, if you asked any of their spouses, she has added to the demise of their marriages. Yet if asked, is oblivious to her influence on her children's marriages.
Almost two years ago my husband's father died suddenly and it totally changed our world. Since then Jay and I have had the same argument over and over again. We somehow have taken over the responsibility of taking care of my MIL. She is not an invalid, she is not incompetent, she is just needy. My husband accompanies her to her meetings with the financial guy, the lawyer, the accountant, etc. All because as a stay-at-home dad, he doesn't have a "real job". He doesn't have to take time off or ask his boss to go to a 10:30 meeting across town. And every time he asks her to take care of it on her own, she makes him feel guilty and he eventually caves. This is where our fights begin.
I want him to cut the cord and force her to do things for herself. Just like our son and potty training; if you want to stop wiping his butt, then he needs to learn to do it himself. He feels that this is his responsibility, his father's spirit telling him to help her. I try to tell him that his father would not want this burden for him and that he has two older siblings that could help out. So we fight because I don't want this to be a forever thing. And we fight because he gets nothing done at home when he has to help her during the day.
I do want to add a bit of snarky commentary. We are the only functioning couple of her three kids. We have a happy marriage, while her two other children have three failed marriages between them. And while its not all her fault, if you asked any of their spouses, she has added to the demise of their marriages. Yet if asked, is oblivious to her influence on her children's marriages.
Monday, February 21, 2011
Terrible Twos? More like Atrocious Threes!
Bodhi turned three last month and has been trying my nerves ever since. He is so mouthy and rude and sometimes I wonder how I am going to make it through the day.
Yesterday I took him to a church friend's 3-year old birthday party. He did well until the first meltdown. Let me paint the scene for you. Everyone gathered in the living room to sing happy birthday and once it was done the father of the birthday girl tells all the kids to "go back into the living room and grab a seat and we will bring you a cupcake". Seems innocent enough. But Bubba doesn't quite comprehend this. He runs into the living room and grabs a chair. Not sit on it, but literally grabs a chair and starts carrying it back to the dining room. I tell him that he doesn't need to do that, he just needs to sit in the chair. Well, you better not get between my son and a cupcake, because he starts yelling at me, "Go away mommy" and pulling at the chair to carry it away. I try to talk to him and explain what is going on, but he doesn't want to hear me. He just yells and starts to hit me. So I promptly pick him up and carry him outside. I get him to calm down and try to explain that if he sits in the chair a cupcake will be brought to him. He settles down and walks back into the house, sits down and within seconds is given a cupcake. Crisis averted, until about 10 minutes later.
After the cupcakes are finished, the mother of the birthday girl announces that it is time to unwrap presents. I look at my watch and its almost 5, so I think this is a good time to exit. Well Bodhi doesn't. He starts yelling "No" and "Go away mommy" at the top of his lungs. Birthday guests are staring. And again, I carry him outside, we talk, he calms down and we proceed to say our good byes.
So was it the worst afternoon of my life? No of course not, but I don't know how to handle his talking back to me. Later when we get home, the talking back continues along with the hitting. I can put him in time out, swat his butt, take away his toys, and he continues to talk back. But the real problem is with me. If I can remain calm and not react to his outbursts we are fine and I can handle it and he eventually calms down. But when I start acting like a 3 year old and yelling at him to go to timeout or spanking him (which I hate!), then I feel bad, he is upset and we all got nothing out of the experience.
And now that I am pregnant again, I wonder if I am even capable of raising children and wonder why we wanted a second one. But then he hugs me and kisses me and has completely forgotten about the last 10 minutes and I remember just how much I love him and that I should never ever forget about these moments when he is hitting me and telling me to "Go to timeout".
Yesterday I took him to a church friend's 3-year old birthday party. He did well until the first meltdown. Let me paint the scene for you. Everyone gathered in the living room to sing happy birthday and once it was done the father of the birthday girl tells all the kids to "go back into the living room and grab a seat and we will bring you a cupcake". Seems innocent enough. But Bubba doesn't quite comprehend this. He runs into the living room and grabs a chair. Not sit on it, but literally grabs a chair and starts carrying it back to the dining room. I tell him that he doesn't need to do that, he just needs to sit in the chair. Well, you better not get between my son and a cupcake, because he starts yelling at me, "Go away mommy" and pulling at the chair to carry it away. I try to talk to him and explain what is going on, but he doesn't want to hear me. He just yells and starts to hit me. So I promptly pick him up and carry him outside. I get him to calm down and try to explain that if he sits in the chair a cupcake will be brought to him. He settles down and walks back into the house, sits down and within seconds is given a cupcake. Crisis averted, until about 10 minutes later.
After the cupcakes are finished, the mother of the birthday girl announces that it is time to unwrap presents. I look at my watch and its almost 5, so I think this is a good time to exit. Well Bodhi doesn't. He starts yelling "No" and "Go away mommy" at the top of his lungs. Birthday guests are staring. And again, I carry him outside, we talk, he calms down and we proceed to say our good byes.
So was it the worst afternoon of my life? No of course not, but I don't know how to handle his talking back to me. Later when we get home, the talking back continues along with the hitting. I can put him in time out, swat his butt, take away his toys, and he continues to talk back. But the real problem is with me. If I can remain calm and not react to his outbursts we are fine and I can handle it and he eventually calms down. But when I start acting like a 3 year old and yelling at him to go to timeout or spanking him (which I hate!), then I feel bad, he is upset and we all got nothing out of the experience.
And now that I am pregnant again, I wonder if I am even capable of raising children and wonder why we wanted a second one. But then he hugs me and kisses me and has completely forgotten about the last 10 minutes and I remember just how much I love him and that I should never ever forget about these moments when he is hitting me and telling me to "Go to timeout".
Saturday, February 19, 2011
First post is the hardest...
I have been stalking blogs for years, and decided to join the ranks. I will mostly be blogging about my kids, my attempt at being crafty, my conflicts about being a working mom and what ever else comes to mind. Just as I am typing this I find myself asking my son, who is in the bathroom, if he just went poo-poo. If its too quiet in there it means poo or mischief. So I am off on this attempt. Hopefully it will last longer then my attempt at knitting!
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