The One Where He’s Almost Two

It’s almost been two years since I gave birth to my munchkin. I am not lying when I say it was the worst and the best day of my life all wrapped up in one huge ball of emotion and tears. Oh the fucking tears I cried over my contractions, over my anxiety, over my beautiful new little bundle of love and all the crap that the mean doctors pooped on me when I was supposed to be just enjoying my time with my new baby. “Well since you were in labor so long he might have a life-threatening blood infection so we’re going to keep him on IV antibiotics for three days. ” Oh, awesome….way to scare the shit out of me, doc.

I remember I was so scared to be happy. Even when I was pregnant I was terrified to be happy. I thought that my being happy would somehow jinx it. Even when my son was born, it took me a few weeks…errr ok more like a month…maybe 6 weeks… to feel true peace and contentment.  I was so terrified of SIDS and of not doing something right and of the soft-spot on his head (DON’T TOUCH HIS HEAD!) and his little neck if I was supporting it properly.  I was so worried that he wasn’t enough and were my boobs making enough milk, and was he sleeping enough…or too little…. Plus on top of that I was trying to recover from surgery and even sitting up and getting out of bed was a freaking ten-minute process.

Last year around my son’s birthday our family went through a huge change. My husband found an awesome job, and he went from Stay-at-home Dad to full time worker and I went from full time working/pumping Mama to a full time Stay at Home Mom. At first I had grand visions of a spotless house, beautiful meals and hours upon hours to make crafts and do fun activities with my son. Unfortunately, life isn’t always like that. There’s tantrums and SO MANY FREAKING MESSES. Seriously, he’s literally like a tornado. He loves to test my patience and he climbs on everything and dumps his food on the floor and pours his cups of juice and water all over everything. (Currently my kitchen floor is rather sticky – must mop tomorrow).  I could spend THE ENTIRE DAY CLEANING. All day every day. The hard part of being a stay-at-home-Mom isn’t the mothering, it’s the cleaning.   My husband is a kind of neat freak and he gets really stressed out if things aren’t in their place, so I’m always always cleaning and picking up. Some days I wonder why I even bother because my son will just tear everything to shreds in a matter of minutes. Tonight he was chewing on my book. It looked like a puppy had gotten a hold of it. OH NO, THAT’S JUST MY TODDLER.

I’m going off on to a cleaning tangent/vent….that is SO not whatthis post was supposed to be about! I am just shocked and amazed that I am seeing my little man turn into….well a little man. He’s my cuddle monster always wantingto give me hugs and kisses. Even though he drives me crazy about 75% of his waking hours the other 25% is the best most wonderful thing in the world. He’s starting to say I love you….which doesn’t really sounds like I love you more like “Errrwoovvvooo”  but he is saying it and dammitt if that isn’t the sweetest I love you I have ever heard, I don’t know what is.

Things in my life have been up and down lately. I’m really hurting right now. But he is my constant. My little ball of happiness and smiles, my buddy who always wants to be with his Mama. I know those days won’t last for long, so I’m storing away as many memories as I can . I love his excited face when he sees something or someone new and I love that he’s always looking  and absorbing everything around him. He’s discovering so much and it’s so amazing to see. I’m one lucky Mama.

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Baby Number Two.

No, as of this posting I am not pregnant. Relax.

I feel like EVERYONE, is on baby number two…..except me. Girls that were pregnant when Gavin was just a few months old are now preggo with number two. I feel like I’ve failed (once again – a recurring theme)  in the aspect of  childbearing. Nothing says loving like a bun in the oven, right? Cut to me. Sucking at wife-dom and life.

Is my head not in the right place for another child. Is my heart? Why am I not anxiously awaiting my ovulation days, ready to pounce on my husband’s ( extremely fertile, I might add – sorry for the gross out) sperm? Am I scared of the hospital? Am I scared of the possible c-section? Am I afraid that I might attempt a VBAC only to have it fail miserably?

Here’s the completely superficial terrible reasons I’m not actively babymaking……

1. Doctor’s appointments. What the F am I supposed to do with my son while I’m getting checked and fetal monitored and blood drawn and ultra-sounded? I have no  family around to drop G off with while I attend the ninety million doctor appointments that pregnancy requires….I can just imagine him wreaking havoc on the exam room while I’m incapacitated with my knees to my chest. Great.

2. Morning Sickness. Um, I think I was close to death on a quite a few occasions in my first and only pregnancy to date….so I can only assume that this one will have the same theme.  Puke, puke, nausea, sleep and more puke.  Considering it’s a challenge to take care of my toddler’s ever changing needs and cleaning a house and scheduling a shower in every other day for myself and perhaps twenty minutes of y’know relaxtion or something on TV that’s not Yo Gabba Gabba or Wonderpets….

3. Lack of familial support.  I guess this isn’t a real reason, but it kinda bothers me. My husband’s mother is basically non-existent in my son’s life. Although she lives an hour away it might as well be 4,000 miles. I can count the number of times she’s seen him on ONE HAND in the whole two years of his life. So….yeah…

My Mom although she has seen and babysat and watched and soothed him more times than I can count is still living in the dirty south…Georgia, Georgia right now. She does come and visit for a few days once every month or two which I look forward to (probably more than I should- YES SOMEONE ELSE TO CHANGE A FREAKING DIAPER)….but she isn’t on hand- accessible 24-7 like I (selfishly) would like.

But, hang on, my DAD ( he works in Chicago and commutes back and forth to Georgia ($$$$) where he technically lives. My parents are still crazy stupid in love, so I don’t know how they stand to be apart from each other 4 days a week)  is a one awesome babysitter.  He is the reason me and my husband get to go on sushi dates and get to go to fun places like Wal-mart without me worrying that Gavino is touching/licking the cart handles. So Yay for my Dad.  But, still he works like 90 million hours a week and is constantly back and forth to GA.

4.  I have to pick another doctor. Ugh. No thanks. Although the hospital where G was born has one of the highest VBAC rates in the state, I just don’t want to drive 45 mins to my doctor’s appointment.  Plus, I wish the staff was more….friendly. My experiences there were not good.  I have to pick another hospital that will allow me to attempt a vbac. I would like a midwife. I would like a doula. I don’t even know where to start.  My husband doesn’t think I will be able to have a vbac, I can tell…..I know he’s already counting on another c-sec…that makes me sad….because that just reinforces my dis-illusioned (sp) belief that I suck at birthing and parenthood in general….

5. This is my unknown secretive reason that I will never reveal to anyone why I am holding back on baby number two.

6 . Everyone that was allowed a vaginal birth I want to punch in the fucking face. Sorry 66% of birthing moms I’m still pissed about my c-section. STILL. Like two years later. Every time I hear about someone whose baby came out in 4 pushes and they naturally labored for two hours, I get jealous. Like some psycho ex-girlfriend that’s me…The crazy pissed off bitch writing about how angry she is on her little blog….Blah.  Misery loves company. What a terrible thing to write. I suck.

7. The terrible fear that I will have trouble getting pregnant and that I will become a chart-making, temperature taking, hormone injecting crazed babymaker instead of….We loved each other…Two bottles of wine later….some passionate sex and I got pregnant with you. Oops. Yay!

8. My extreme hypochondria/OCD… Not fabricated. It’s real. Health shit scares me. A lot. I can’t even begin to contemplate my extreme fears regarding hospital birthing and germs and staph infections and really I can’t even type or else I will start to my freak out and go put some latex gloves on so the germs can’t get me.

*****Notice that I haven’t listed missed time with Gavino as a reason. However, I can’t list that as a reason considering how deeply enamored he is with little people close to his size.  I would miss the co-sleeping. A lot. Yes, we still co-sleep. (stone me, independent sleepers)…..But I would think he would absolutely love a little sibling. Someone to love on and cuddle and play with.

**** Also, I haven’t listed getting fat as a superficial reason, which I assume  would be on most people’s lists of why they don’t want to be currently pregnant.  Just FYI Breastfeeding is the most kick-ass diet you will ever be on. I was almost at my high school weight.  For realz.

– I am confident in one thing – My determination to breastfeed my second baby. Gavino was a relatively easy baby to breastfeed. I also pumped for almost a full year while working ( I’M BRAGGING BECAUSE I WILL FOREVER BE PROUD OF MYSELF)….We did have ups, downs and bumps, lumps and mastitis…but I breastfed him til 18 months which was my goal. So yay. I will do the same for the second one and maybe even breastfeed til 2 years.

Um…yeah….That’s my mini-rant.  I have no great way to end this post. No quippy quote. Just…Yeah… This  is what goes through my head.

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Wordless Wednesday

My Mom reading to Gavin. My heart melts everytime I look at these pictures!

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Wordless

6 1/2 Months old- Always full of smiles!

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Spring Cleaning

Well, not really Spring Cleaning, just throwing out old crap that is taking up space.

Namely, my couch.  My couch from MY apartment. Y’know the one where I lived in un-wedded bliss (ha bliss) with my ex-boyfriend, where I lived alone- sorta single- sorta not, where I downed numerous bottle of vodka and cases of Bud Light (CLASS, I tell you – ALL CLASS!). That one. The one where Life was crazy fucked up. But it was FUN (insert crying and crazy phone calls) FUN (insert throwing drinks at the bar) FUN (insert Can I really do this without him?!) FUN (insert He’s a Loser and I’m so glad I kicked him out) FUN (insert Omg, Is it really 4am, I have to be at work in 3 and a half hours and I’m so wasted).

It has been a bed for me, when my ex took our bed when he moved out. Nice move, asshole. (Til my parents decided that me sleeping on a couch was kinda, sorta pathetic and bought me a brand new mattress! Thanks Mom and Dad!) The couch has been a bed for alot of my friends and their friends and my cousin and his friends and my brother and his friends and the list goes on and on and on and on. Good times.

But, I’m in a very different place now, with a very different life. I am somebody’s Mommy now.  I am somebody’s wife now. I am responsible for taking care of my precious son. So HURRAY out with the old and in with the new. (Well, not really in with the new, since we already have a really nice leather couch…But, y’know what I’m saying).

This dear, sunken in, slightly broken yet comfy couch has been moved from the burbs to the city then back again. Now he sits on the curb, awaiting garbage day. RIP Old Friend, RIP.

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Wordless

I'm MAD Mommy has to work, I hate these stinkin bottles! I want the real deal- boobs!

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What I’ve been Reading….The Lie

The Lie -Chad Kultgen 4.0/5.0

If you are easily offended by the depravity of the male population, do not read this book. It is vile, crass and a whole lot of other words that describe books not geared towards the average female reader.  I, being the non-average female reader, loved this book. I thought the author pushed it a little far with his illicit descriptions of debauchery , but other than that – a great read.

The book is written in first person account’s from the three main characters – Sorority Girl, Average Guy in love with Sorority Girl and Average guy’s best friend that is super wealthy . It follows these characters as they navigate their college relationships. I thought the female character seemed more like a 35 yr. old male’s interpretation of what he THOUGHT a ditzy college girl would sound like, not how she actually sounds. He threw about 3902392 unnecessary “LIKE”s into her dialogue. (Hmmm…how would I properly punctuate that? Sorry for the grammar fail). There was such a huge build-up to the climax throughout the whole book. The way they made it sound I thought my happy little “Haha-College-Sex-Relationships” book was going to turn into a grisly murder story. The author managed to avoid that cliche, and resolved it in a somewhat dramatic manner that still left me saying,  “Whoa.That was fucked up”.

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