The g

Griffin is funny.  He makes me laugh.  He actually laughs really hard when I laugh.  which is awesome.  He says a lot of things that I think, I have got to blog about that.  Or, that I'll never forget it because he is SO FUNNY.

Tonight he told me after he had pooped that one of his turdlets looked like a catfish.

And then he was looking at a picture of Ben and I from our wedding day and asked if he was in my tummy then.  Uh, rude.  I didn't look bloated.  I didn't say that, and my immediate thought was "just say something cliche like 'heaven' or 'with God.'  but then if I say that he'll think that God preordaines things and I don't believe in that and I don't want him to either...because, well... for a lot of reasons (hello, crazy.)  so I just told him "no, not yet."  And he wanted to know where he was.  So I told him he was "in my head and in my heart and I could only hope for a baby like Griffin."  To which he asked...

"so where my legs and my feet in your heart?"  logical.  comical.

This same kid has also screamed since I put him to bed an hour and a half ago.  Beat his head against the wall.  yelled MOMMY I NEED TO TELL YOU A QUESTION.  Talked me into watching team oomi zoomi and is now laying in my bed.  Less charming.

That catfish thing, though... sure is funny.

In all seriousness...anyone else have separation anxiety issues at age 3?

8:30 12:30 2:00 4:30 5:30 6:00 6:30 6:45 7:45 8:05

These numbers are not going to get you off of the island.  I think they keep you trapped there.

at 8:30 last night I escorted G out of "mama's bed" and in to his own as he said, "I sink I may have poopy in my pants."  it was a trial of letting him sleep with me while Ben is gone/here.  It's his big sales conference so he is all but gone.  He originally went to bed at 6:40.  HOLY MONSTER BALLS YOU ARE INFRINGING ON MY SYTYCD DRINKING TIME.  It was an event.

12:30 when M woke up the first time

2:00 when Ben came home

4:30 when M woke up

5:30 when M woke up to poop.  Every.  Single.  Day.  And he needs me.

6:00 when I have to get up to get dressed

6:30 M dawg up for the day

6:45 G up

in the middle of there I made some pancakes.

7:45 out the door to work and "school."

8:10 drive through at starbucks.

I need a nap.  And a sister wife.  And a trip to an island that doesn't know those numbers.

EBF

There are a LOT of things I do not know about pregnancy, parenting, etc.  Mostly, acronyms.  EBF. TCC.  DH.  LO... I had to google research to understand the foreign language on babycenter.  that's babycentre if you're british.

I DO know that EBF means exclusively breast feed.  I told Ben I wanted to write a post about how much I love it (because I know someone who is absolutely  and adamantly AGAINST it--which is fine.)  It's something that I knew I wanted to try but didn't know how it would go.  So my response when people would ask would be, "I'm going to try it!"  I figured that way I wouldn't be disappointed if it didn't go well.  This is also how I felt about birthing plans.  Meh?  I figure I'll show up because this baby is going to come out one way or another and I think the dr's (OK NURSES--Cheers to my nurses out there) will have this all covered and tell me what to do.  They did.  It was awesome. 

All this to say, I love nursing my babies.  I also think, at times, it's exhausting.  I love how their little hands hold my necklace (G--from day one) and M hold my hand.  Love their little antics--Meyer does a face scratching thing.  Precious.  More precious if he'd let me cut his nails.  Love that I can quiet them in this way.  LOVE that I don't have to wash many bottles.  Also, love that I love it and that it doesn't (always) feel like a chore.  And I love the love of mama.

Also, it's cheap.  All the better for me to buy diapers with and ruin the environment. (at least I'm saving water during this drought.)

Ben told me that I shouldn't write about that, but what he wished people would write about/talk about is getting preggers.  One of his friends felt very isolated in her difficulty with getting pregnant.  Like everyone BUT her could.  Thankfully, I have enough friends who I (think) are pretty reliable.  So I both felt like everyone could at the drop of a hat, and I couldn't--in my irrational brain AND like I knew it was work and didn't always happen asap--in my real brain.  It's hard to decipher those differences when you have lady parts.  Girls, lock up yo' crazy.  So here's my story/non story.

I lived my life knowing that I wanted to be "mom."   Wanted to be a mommy.  I wanted it all.  I also wanted to live my life.  Get my degrees.  Get married.  Go to Italy.  THEN we could have a baby.  I didn't work like that though.  We did all of those things.  We did the "us" things.  We continued try to "ward off"pregnancy as it wasn't the right time.  After months of trying we realized that we needed help.  Body ready.  Mind ready.  Leads to a crazy ass pee stick obsession.  I also took the ovulation kits--not ovulating.  So a million pee and ovulation sticks later  I took a round of Chlomid after they figured out what was happening--boom pow.  Knocked up.  To a baby who wasn't letting go.  

Second time we just went straight to the Chlomid.  Boom-pow.

So I guesss... I'm not entirely sure that sector of talking about getting preggers is silent.  I think that that sector is hopeful and fearful--all at the same time.  Wanting a baby can be all mind consuming.   SO you know... they don't want to jinx themselves.  And if it happens, they may get even more jinxy so they say nothing because of the fearful and hopeful parts.  The wanting to be a mama more than anything parts.

What I'm saying is that husbands are often right--especially the outside looking in at the world of girl crazy.  So Ben was right.  So I write.  (and note, I'm a good wife for catering to this need.  he thinks I only talk of him poorly on here, but this added one more bonus to my posts of father's day, birthday, and anniversary of talking nice.)

Not having this happen IMMEDIATELY as I had imagined was probably silly.  And stressful.  Made me feel like my body was broken  I think what we learn is how NOT to get pregnant from an early age.  We don't learn the ins and outs.  I think we truly have to learn our own bodies.  

And I've felt that jealousy towards friends.  True EXCITEMENT and joy over their new life expectancy, and simultaneously pretty down trodden about my lack of procreation.  LIke, "How many people are going to tell me they have tried for one month an they are pregs and we've been together forEVER?"  As if that matters.  So here I am to say that it's not as easy as it is for everyone.  You are not a lone--thanks MJ for that lyric.  It may not work out how you have planned (see I'm for NOT having a plan) and something different will come a long.  Maybe it's a baby.  Maybe it's a baby through someone else.  Maybe.  Just maybe.  It's something you can't even plan for. 

Both of the journeys for my boys were great timing in the end.  I wouldn't change it.  It's hard.  Sometimes gut wrenching to buy those over priced pee sticks so I bought in bulk on amazon.  Like a lady.  I think because the time before that I was at walgreens with my preg test and a pint of ice cream and the cashier said "One of those days?"  And I felt embarrassed, like I wanted to punch her in the neck, and say "I hope so."  Instead I just smiled awkwardly.  

I'm in love with my babies.  Glad that Ben and I had an ample amount of non baby time as a married couple. I know that mine isn't the easiest, nor the hardest story.  Just my story.

Now if I could get preggers by accident... lets get a cheers for baby #3.  That last statement is just to see if Ben is reading.  Kidding love.  Just kidding.  ish.

Confused

Griffin gets some things confused.

One hair cuts and doctors visits. They both have suckers. Therefore, they are the same?

The post office and the hospital. Our dr office is across the street from the hospital and he remembers everything about visiting me there. Including the color of the buttons he pushed on my bed. He calls it the post office. Can't follow that one?

Lately, he calls me "meme." Not in the drugged out RENT kind of way. I don't think. He had been screaming meme for a while when throwing fits and I kept telling him to use his words and I didn't know what that meant... Until I realized that its me. 

They call me. They call me. Me. Meeeeee

Mom guilt.

It’s something fierce right now.  I can’t seem to beat it.  I’m not sure I ever will.  I think mostly it stems from my very verbal three year old who doesn’t want me to leave him at bed times.  Who I feel guilty when I have to say, “I can’t right now.”  Or “It’s time for bed. Mama, has to go.”

I come home in the afternoons.  Disrobe in the laundry room.  Put the dogs out.  Get G to remove his shoes.  Try to get him moving upstairs to his room.  Get M out of the car seat.  Read a book.  Hold a hand.  Nurse a baby.  Lock G in his room.  Go rock M and put him down.  Listen to G crying for me.  “HOLD MY HAND.  Mama, please come back.” Wondering if I’ll ever get quality time with either of them.  Wonder if M thinks all I do for him is feed him and lay him down.  Wonder if G wishes he was still an only child.  Realize that’s probably not the case as the maybe 2x he and I have done something he’s pretty concerned that Meyer isn’t with us.  Wondering if some of his fits are tied to his feeling neglected.  Can’t help but wonder what I’m doing to his psyche.

This morning when I asked him what he dreamed about last night  and he said, “I was crying really loud and you didn’t come for me.  You went to Meyer.”

Break my heart.  Then I wonder why I don’t stay longer at bed time.  What is the harm in laying with him until he falls asleep?  Some day he won’t want this.  The books say I should never do this.  I can’t take those statements, though.  They kill me.

In the morning I get one of them up.  I now shower at night because I can’t seem to find time in the morning.  Griffin now cries that he doesn’t want to go to school.  He wants to stay.  I know he has fun there.  I can’t help but wonder  if I stayed home we would be these 3’s.  We could do fun things.  I could grocery shop.  I could get laundry done.  I would be more “there.”  I would say “yes” more to requests.

Right now my mom guilt is winning.  And it’s a pretty healthy victory for her.

vacation.

I need one.  So I'm semi planning one.  To seattle.  Or Portland.  TBD on cheaper flights.  So far I've found an awesome flight from ATX to Seattle that's DIRECT.  HOLLA!

But, where do you stay once you are there?  I desire somewhere that we can walk/take public transportation if needed.  That's useful in other states, right?  (not in the south.)  What do you see?  Where do you eat?  What are the non touristy places to be?  What are the touristy places?  Who's going to watch these pesky kids here?

What is the weather in October?  TELL ME I NEED JACKETS.  Oct. 20's-ish.  Cold?  Too cold?  Rainy?

Lunchroom Convo

As noted... I hear some ridiculous things at work.  I think I've zoned out so I hear less now than I used to... and people aren't as invasive when you aren't pregnant, apparently.  I also am choosing to pump on the floor inside an unused office because even though it has a lot of windows it also has a lock on the door.  Our HR person is astounded that I would choose to sit on the floor behind a desk instead of in the general supply closet with a rolling door and no lock.  Whatever. 

So I wa sin the kitchen earlier this week and heard this convo between two colleagues--one has celiacs (so she says) and the other is obsessed with eating healthfully.  Both are skinny bitches.  (term of endearment)

Girl one--I mean, I think that I just don't weigh very much because I started not drinking soda in high school.  Then I cut out fast food.  Then I cut out x.  Then I quit eating very much. 

Girl two-Yah, I mean, I just have a hard time gaining weight.  I'll do ok if I'm super working out, but as soon as I stop it all disappears.

Girl one--I KNOW.  I mean, I'll work out and finally have a booty and the next day it's gone.  I typically only eat 45% of what is on my plate. 

It's just so hard to be skinny.

(and have an eating disorder.)

Judgement.  I judged.  And continued to make my oatmeal.  And ate 100% of it.