I am That Mom.

My kids are those kids.

We have arrived!

Today I needed to head to Target to pick up a couple of things and just get out of the house. Lena has been taking a super short morning nap the past two days, and if we don't fill up the time, we all start going a little crazy.
As I pulled into the parking lot, I saw a woman putting away a cart and told her I'd take it from her. She saw me loading up my kids and said "oh wow! you have your hands full!" I replied "Oh, I only have two! ...But I guess I only have two hands, so yes. My hands are full." But I was upbeat and positive, because my kids are just so doggone sweet and angelic and darling and polite.

We walked into the store, and Charlotte was bee bopping around, Prancercise style:

She pranced her way over to a Disney Princess shopping cart and was completely fascinated with it. Normally, she has no problem with putting a toy back at the store, but she wanted to push it around. Instead of dealing with a potential spazz attack now, I decided to let her push it around the store while we shopped and then we could put it back later. (I am an idiot.)

At this point, the only mischief she was getting into was bumping into my cart and saying "Cheers!"

Any time she sees two like-objects, she clinks them together does a small toast. It's especially great when she bumps shoulders with Lena in a matching outfit.

I found the items we needed, which included some giant storage containers for their outgrown clothes. The cart was pretty full, and I had the lids of the bins on the rack beneath the cart. It was time for us to check out, which meant it was time to put the beloved princess shopping cart away. 

As we turned down the aisle, Charlotte saw another toy shopping cart and needed to clink them together and shout "cheers!" and while she was putting the less-loved cart back, I secretly took the princess cart and put it back on a high shelf without her noticing. 

A look of panic washed over Charlotte's face as she saw her soul mate-toy went missing. She was calling out for the cart as if it would come wheeling around the corner like her trusty dog. When it didn't appear, she went back for cart #2 and decided that one would do. 

I explained to her that she already has a shopping cart at home. 

<sobs>

I asked her if she brought her money (like $1.25 in change), because she needs money to buy it.

<says no, sobs more>

I was holding Lena during this time since she was sick of sitting in the cart, and I had to put her back so I could reason with the terrorist. A strange lady approaches and actually helped by playing peek-a-boo with Lena while I attempted to talk Charlotte off the ledge.

And miracle of miracles, Charlotte got up off the floor (did I mention she was sitting on the floor? Her latest protest position) and we continued on. About 10 steps later, she decides she is not quite done mourning. She throws her body down onto the floor and starts crying some more. 

Lena continues to cry in the cart. 

I'm crouched down trying to get through to the toddler. "I remember when I was little...."

(This gets her attention EVERY time.) 

"...I would go to the store with my mom. You know, Grandma."
<stops crying>
"It was so hard seeing all of those fun toys at the store without taking them home. But Grandma told me about all of the fun things we could do at home with my toys....." and more lies and more lies and more lies.

<gets up and starts walking>
Ten steps later, she begins to wail again. A crabby old woman looks at me and I tell her that I'm just living the dream. She told me that she had two girls "10 and 3/4 months apart". Instead of getting into the nitty gritty of that, I just said "then you know how it goes." And she agreed and went on her way. 

At this point, Charlotte's face is blotchy and red, she's got drool on her shirt and snot dripping down her face. She shoved the cart so that all of the lids to the bins went flying out and scattered across the floor right near the checkout. I'm doing my best not to lose my shit, and I'm getting my items out of the cart to buy.

I was laughing to the cashier about how I just need to get out of there and as she totaled up my items, I realized I didn't have my debit card. The one that was in my pocket last night. The one that I held and said to a neighbor "I really need to stop putting this in my pocket. I'm just going to forget about it." The one that I put on the counter instead of in my purse "so I would remember it". 

Yes, people. This is my life. I asked if she could suspend the order or whatever so I could run home (thankful, once again, that I live a couple of short miles away). She was able to do so, and I got the whole thing figured out, but seriously.

I'm afraid that this is becoming the norm, as Charlotte has had meltdowns just about everywhere lately. 

So if you have any coping mechanisms, please do share! I could use all the help I can get. 

Rules for Babysitting

In the last several months, we've branched out a bit and had a few "strangers" babysit the girls. Of course I learned a bit about them and asked lots of questions before we had them watch them, and so far it really has  been good for us.
The girls who have helped out have been between 18-22. About two years ago, I had a neighbor's daughter come babysit Charlotte as an infant. The babysitter was 12 (ish). She came over with a little binder with questionnaires and a list of phone numbers for me to fill out. I mean, this is big time, people. She's going to take over the biz.

Here are some things that the 18-22 crowd can learn from the tween.

1.  Ask me questions.  Let me know that you're paying attention to my instructions and if maybe I've missed something. It's likely I have. Even if it's "do you have a wifi password?", the answer is yes, but you'll have to figure out which one is the right one because we can never remember.
2. Play with my kids. Act like you like them. Especially when I'm still at home looking for my lip gloss and dusting off my high heels. I don't like silence while I'm trying to figure out what this crust is on my shirt and if I should change before I leave. Most of the time, the babysitters are good at this. But there have been a couple who seriously don't know what to even say to a two year old. How about "hi!"
3. When I ask you a question, like "are you comfortable feeding the baby baby food?" I don't exactly expect you to say no, but if you've never done it before, don't lie. I'll give you more specific instructions, like "put on a bib" or "the food goes here, in her mouth. not in her ears where I'll find it tomorrow if you're lying."
4. If you have rules, speak up. You charge your own hourly rate? Let me know right off the bat. You have a minimum amount of time that you see as "worth it"? Tell me. Sometimes I only need someone for an hour, if that's not something you're interested in, tell me first. 
5. It's always a good idea to check in after the kids are in bed and all is well. I often let the sitter know that I'll be sending a text around 8:30 just to make sure bedtime went smoothly and help out in case something weird is going on. (Charlotte getting upset because the wrong button was pushed on her sound machine and now it's ocean waves instead of static. 2 year olds can be very specific in their white noise needs.) If you can't figure out the remote, text me. I don't want you to get so bored that you start snooping.
6. CLEAN UP. This is something that some people are really good at, and others just don't get it. It may have been messy when you arrived because two kids were awake and pulling out every toy and book. But after bedtime is the perfect time to tidy up. How awkward would it be if I was like an actual employer (or just a mom, i guess) and I said "I will pay you after you clean up these toys and wipe the baby food off the table. Go ahead. I'll watch." Nope, just do it first and we'll avoid that situation.
7. When I come home and ask how it went, "fine." is not an acceptable answer. Tell me how much you love the little nuggets, even if they were sort of naughty. Tell me if they were naughty. If the baby cried, you can tell me, that way I'm not surprised. If you say she didn't cry, can you tell me your secrets? Let me know if dinner went well, tell me a funny story, act like you're in it for more than the money, because FYI 18-22 year olds? You're getting paid more than our date cost. 

Yeah, maybe these rules are stupid or asking too much. 

But I just had a brilliant idea. 

In the spirit of celebrating today's technology, the babysitters can unlock "badges" for tasks they complete. A lot like four square or some other hip thing that I know nothing about.

Keep kids alive: $5/hr

Complete bedtime routine (wash face, brush teeth, comb hair, story): bonus $5

Check in with mom to say all is well: bonus $2
Clean up after the kids: bonus $5

Fold kids' laundry: bonus $5 

Unload dishwasher: bonus $5

Tell me how much you love my kids and how they are the sweetest little girls you've ever watched in your life: bonus $150. (okay, not really.)

Based on a 4 hour night out, this is $47 where over half of the hours the kids are asleep. I mean, you could get $20 for the bare minimum, but don't you feel special when you unlock badges? I do. That's why I track my food on My Fitness Pal. 

But nothing beats having family babysit. They love the kiddos, they clean up so I don't blog about them later, and they're usually free. :) 

What would you add the list? Am I asking way too much?

I babysat a lot in my youth and usually made $3-5/hr for full days, watching 3 kids. Walked uphill both ways to school. Barefoot. I had to use AOL Instant Messenger to talk to my friends. The horror. 

The Glamour of Motherhood

On Saturday, my husband left in the wee hours to drive down to Atlanta with his brothers to go see Michigan play in NCAA Final Four/Championship game. I recognized that this was pretty much a once in a lifetime chance for them and they are huge fans.

I gave him a little piece of my mind before he left, just explaining that with the ages that our girls are right now, it's not exactly a piece of cake on a day to day basis. He definitely acknowledged that, but wow, things got interesting.

I mentioned before that we're attempting potty training with Charlotte. The first week was great, then we had a really tough time where she was too scared to sit on the potty, but didn't want to go in her diaper either. Many tantrums occurred, and she started to get a really bad attitude. I was nervous about dealing with it on my own 24/7. On top of that, the hours between 4:30-7 are hellish between trying to prepare dinner, calming a fussy 6 month old who wants to be held, watching the two year old to make sure she gets to the bathroom on time, feeding both children, bathing both children, getting them both off to bed...
oh wah wah wah you say. And that's fine, because I probably would have said that before I had two little kids.

All has been going well, really. Charlotte was super happy on Sunday, used the potty without crying, and had no accidents, and was just fun to be around. I had my parents over in the evening for dinner so they could occupy the kids and give me a little break while I prepared dinner.
Then we get to Monday. I go into Charlotte's room at 9:30 (she's a lazy bones) and noticed quickly that she had thrown up all over the place, and the poor thing just slept in it. I quickly called my friend who was on her way over for a playdate to cancel, just in case this wasn't a one-time thing. Charlotte seemed happy, but was concerned that this whole mess was poop and that really freaked her out. I thought about explaining what vomit was, but she seemed pretty bewildered as it was.
I got her in the tub, put Lena down for a nap and took off all of Charlotte's bedding to get in the wash.
I was giving myself a little pat on the back for remaining cool, calm and collected throughout all of this. I am pretty much the best mom ever.

I offered her a mini muffin that I made fresh that morning, and she wouldn't touch it. She drank a little milk (that I hesitantly offered), and seemed pretty chipper. So chipper that she started hopping around like a frog during a song, and I told her that maybe that wasn't a great idea.
"Tum hurt!"
<barf!!!!!>
I was folding laundry, so I just grabbed a towel and guided her to her little potty where instinct took over and she barfed there. No mess! I am rockin it!!!
After getting everything cleaned up, I made Charlotte a little spot on the couch with some towels and a pillow. I peek up at Lena who is in her swing, DANGLING.

Not nearly as frightening as this

Her legs were hanging off the side, and even if she had fallen, she would not have been injured. I learned that it's time to use the little harness. That incident basically took away any positive feelings I was having towards myself for the day.

Charlotte continued to be sick throughout the day, and unlike many mothers I've read about, I had no instincts to catch her puke with my hands. That shit cray.

Crying out to the heavens. WHYYYY

so sad.

We managed to make it through the day, and we were so happy to have Marcus home on Tuesday. I'm wondering if there's any chance the rest of us will come through this unscathed, but I suppose only time will tell. I had two miss two workouts this week that I already paid for, cancel a play date and a get together with a friend. The one week I had some semblance of a social life, completely went to crap.

 We've been blessed enough to be quite healthy most of the time, but lately we just haven't caught much of a break. But like always, it could be much worse. I'm such a silver linings type of girl. 

She's still pretty whiny and every morning she's crying about her pajamas and I can't figure out the problem. But such is the life of a two year old - spazzing and being particular about everything for no reason. 

This concludes the story of my super fancy stay-at-home life. 

Being Two

1. I want oatmeal!
2. This is good, but it'd be even better if I could eat it on the stairs.
3. It would be even more delicious if I didn't have to feed myself. "MOMMY!"
4. I have to go potty.
5. Oh! The Cat in the Hat is on! 
6. I really need to pee.
7. Where are my sparkly shoes?
8. It's been a couple hours, I think I'll start crying.
9. I'm going to see how much crazy shit my mom will do in hopes that I'll use the potty.
10. Hahaha, she's a fool. 
11. Play-doh!
12. Where's Grandma?
13. Where's the dog? 
14. I bet the dog likes play-doh.
15. Why isn't Mickey Mouse Clubhouse on RIGHT NOW.
16. I want milk.
17. No, water.
18. Wait, juice.
19. no, milk.
20. wait, water.
21. this water is not actually what I wanted.
22. Milk, please.
23. POTTY NOW
24. Scream in terror in anticipation
25. CELEBRATE, LET'S CLAP OUR HANDS!
26. I'm hungry.
27. I refuse to accept any offers on lunch choices.
28. My hair wants to be brushed.
29. I want to brush the baby's hair.
30. Why doesn't the baby have hair.
31. Where's my lunch.
32. I want a diaper change, but I'm not wearing a diaper.
33. Ask for diaper, but I'll cry when it's on.
34. Mommy looks like she needs a hug
35. I think she wants to be kicked
36. It's time to read 15 books.
37. I love cuddling with my mom.
38. I feel funny. Like I just really need to scream.
39. Like I'm losing all control. 
40. Time to slam my body down
41. and wind it all around
42. Slam, Slam, Slam, Slam
43. Zig a zig ah.
44. Nap time. finally I can take a break from the theatrics.

We've got a two year old in full force these days. Her favorite word is no. Says it for everything. Then gets angry when you don't know when she actually means yes.

Fortunately, the tantrums have only happened while at home. (my mom's house too). The moment she busts it out in public is the day she knows she's winning the battle.

wish me luck.

I'm 75% cute, 15% sweet, 95% INSANE

Senseless

This might sound weird.

Earlier this week after I climbed into bed, I felt like something was off. I laid there doing my mental checks: doors locked, lights off, Darby's downstairs (for now), kids are sleeping (for now). It was funny that I was able to figure it out, but what it was is that I've had no sense of smell for days. This cold has stayed for the long haul right in my face.
 I felt off because there's actually a lot your nose can tell you. Are my scentsy warmers still on? Does the baby need a clean diaper?
Do I personally smell like I could use a shower?

What I realized is that I miss the smell of Lena. Sure, it's likely that she smells like spit up and poop, but I guess I'll never know. While it certainly isn't that big of a deal that I haven't been able to smell (or taste!!) in 7 days, it's actually really starting to take it's toll. Dramatic? Probably. But it's not like you expected anything different from me. I love to snuggle that little baby and it's just not right that I can't enjoy that nice stinky baby smell.
Last night Lena was up a BUNCH (her routine was off, and she went to bed about an hour later than normal) and then with her lingering cough causing her to occasionally barf, I got up each time to check on her. She'd take her pacifier and go to sleep for another hour. But she was up every 90 minutes between 12-6. At 6, I fed her and changed her diaper, and she was totally sleeping in her own dukie for probably most of the night. If I could have smelled it, I would have changed her, say...6 hours before that.
As much as I don't want to smell that, It'd sure my my job a lot easier.

This whole loss of taste in addition to smell is pretty crappy too. I mean, what is food WITHOUT TASTE?!
Sustenance? Bah. I eat food 'cuz it's good, y'all. I've been trying to use it as an excuse to eat healthier because it's not like I can even tell what I'm eating, but I thought maybe there were secret healing properties in pizza and breadsticks. And since I couldn't taste after my first serving, I thought, maybe I just need LOTS more and then I'll be able to taste. It didn't work. Alcohol is also not holding the key to my health.

7 days without taste. I've added hot sauce, taken apple cider vinegar (made me barf. still couldn't taste), drank hot tea with lemon and honey, taken a bite of a lime. It doesn't matter. I have dead taste buds.

If you know what I can do to get my taste and smell back, please help. I'm afraid I've been ruined.
(bonus points if you said that like Stewie)

Being Sick's the Worst

I currently have two sick kiddos.
It's been so rare that Charlotte has been sick for more than a couple of days, and now that Lena is in on it, it's double trouble.

I noticed Charlotte had a  teensy cough last week, and then a fever the next day, and it's continued to spiral down. Lena joined in a couple days later, and the coughing absolutely breaks my heart.
I took Lena to the doctor today for her 6 month appointment/sick kid combo visit, and she's got bronchiolitis which may or may not be caused by RSV. This basically means there's nothing to do but wait. Unless it gets worse, then there's breathing treatments, but so far, no need.

Thankfully they're both sleeping decent (a LOT) but all that means for me is that I'm spying on them to make sure they're still breathing.

On top of all this, now I'm getting sick too. It's interesting how my perception of being sick has changed since having kids.
When I was working before I had babies, if I felt the onset of a cold, I'd be like "bummer." but I'd still go to work (unless it was really bad), infect others, work out, stay out late on the weekends, sleep it off, let the cold get real bad because my lack of rest, and then I'd take a day or two to get it together and hopefully I'd be better. I don't too often get sick so this wasn't a big issue.
Now that I have kids, the moment that I get the throat tickle, or the tingly nose sensation, I'm like "OH MY GOSH THIS BETTER NOT BE HAPPENING NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO".
Disclaimer: this is not me being a martyr. I have sought reinforcements a time or two when ill.
But there is no calling in sick. All of the things? They still must get done. Because otherwise there will be lots of diapers dragging on the ground from their weight. That's really the main thing. I'll let the house suffer. We'll get take out for dinner.
The other issue is really hoping that your kids don't get sick too. In this case, it's had the opposite effect. I got sick from the kids, who got sick from church nursery. Which is basically another whole can of worms that I probably shouldn't get into.

Everyone has been so helpful with remedies and tips for taking care of the little ones who can't take a slew of drugs to alleviate their ailments. So far, my favorite has been the apple cider vinegar, cayenne, honey, and ginger concoction that I would never in a billion years give to my kid, and ohmygosh it tasted so so so bad, but it worked on me. But know this: do not take it on an empty stomach. hurl!

Do you have any home remedies you swear by?  Not just for kids or colds, but for anything.
We used to be told that burnt toast would prevent a hangover. It didn't.

Stop Thinking You're the Only One

I've talked with people recently who admit to feeling overwhelmed by housework, read about moms who feel like they're letting themselves or their family down if they don't keep a neat home. I am definitely in the same boat 99.9% of the time.
I follow a couple of blogs with tips on staying organized, mostly so I can bitch about how type A they are and what a miserable life that must be. And occasionally I'm like "oh I should go alphabetize my socks right now too!" But most of the time I get super jealous and feel bad about myself and what a failure I must be.
I have my moments where I am ambitious and I get shit done. But even on a Saturday when I have extra help at home, it still takes a really long time to do what takes others 10 minutes.

My whole point here is if you feel like you can't stay on top of it, you're not alone.
So here. You can start feeling better now:

Mud room. Absolutely no organization to it. Drives me nuts.  Makes me anxious to share this.

Family room after moving all the random stuff onto the coffee table (instead of just putting it away) to clean the carpets.

At least the carpet is clean.

The things tossed on the stairs "so I can bring them up next time I go upstairs." hahahahahaha

Oh yeah. Don't we have a playroom down here? yup. It's bulimic. 

Maybe If I just move everything to the bottom it won't look as messy.

If you're looking for something, it's likely it's stuck on the fridge.

Ugh. the kitchen table. We eat our meals here. HOW? By moving that pile someplace else, that's how.

And it turns out I'm a mess too. I have spit up all over this shirt. Notice the finger prints on that mirror.
DEAL WITH IT.

Just because I'm sharing these things doesn't mean I don't care about the mess. I do, and I clean it up when I feel like I can. But you know what? My girls are fed. 3, sometimes 4 times a day. There's bowls, plates, bottles and sippy cups laying around to prove it. There are toys strewn about because mommy told you to just go play with your toys already, we spend time playing and reading together. 

With people posting, sharing, pinning, instagramming everything these days, it can be easy to feel like you don't measure up to it all. 

But dude. This is my house on a normal day. Not a tornado day, not the day of cleaning, just a normal day. Sorry if you're disappointed.

No I'm not.

I just hope I made you feel a *teensy* bit better about not always being on top of it all.

Do you think that social media has an impact about how you feel about yourself, your home, or your possessions? 

I do. But then I just read the confessions on Scary Mommy and decide I'm normal. 

Steamless

Last week I wrote about running out of steam. Yesterday I think I was officially out of steam.
This transition to one nap has been a challenge. For both of us. Charlotte usually does great in the morning, until about 11. I can't put her down for a nap then, because it's likely she'll wake by 1:00, and then will be a wreck by 5. When she napped twice a day, she'd take two 2+hour naps, now it's one 2 hour nap. I know that's probably sort of normal for a lot of kids. But dropping the morning nap has only meant that she can stay up a little longer in the morning, but remains whiny later.
She's just been extra crabby and I can't figure it out. She's become extra clingy to me, uses me as her personal jungle gym, and her new favorite activity is dropping things down my shirt and searching for them. It's like she's a teenage boy in disguise.

"UPFF!!"

Today I had an epiphany. She's been on an antibiotic for about 8 days, and though her nose has stopped running, she's even more crabby than before. Instead of her normal predictable 1 poop a day, it's been upwards of 4 times. She arches her back in her car seat, and has random angry outbursts. Duh. It occurred to me that her tummy probably hurts because of the antibiotic. 

Also, today she woke up a little earlier than normal, so I put her down for a quiet time around 9:45 (her previous morning nap time). She wasn't crabby when I put her down, but I just thought we're going to try this whole "quiet time" thing. She immediately zonked out, and I went in to wake her at 11:45. I was able to get SO MUCH DONE during that time because I wasn't completely worn out from her hanging on me all day. I'm sure she'll be ready to take another nap by 2. And we'll all be much happier.

Last night I felt extraordinarily guilty about my attitude. I was so, so tired of being tugged on, the tantrums, and trying to find distractions for whiny behavior. Marcus came to the rescue and took her for a walk while I prepared dinner. When they came back, Charlotte had her hands full.

One leaf for every tree they passed.

She gobbled up dinner, took a bath, and was in bed by 7:20.
We're both doing much, much better today. And perhaps this one nap thing is just a bunch of BS.
I know it must be normal to feel the way I've felt this week. It just hasn't happened to me since I left my job. And I hope that it doesn't become a way of life!

What is your solution for feeling burned out?

Beware of the Mama Monster

Pregnancy lately has turned me into an anxiety ridden mama monster.
Well, at least I'm blaming it on pregnancy, since I wasn't a super nervous mom before.

We have several sets of stairs in our "mutli-level" home. Charlotte learned to use them early, and quite well. I just recently started to nervous about this because she's attempting to step up and down, rather than climb and crawl. When I go upstairs to let Darby out of her crate, Charlotte will follow me and Darby races out of her crate toward the stairs. Oh geesh. I have a toddler standing on the top stair excited to see her pup, and Darby just about knocks her over backwards. Terror ensues.

We visit in my in-law's pool and they have a "multi-level" deck. I don't know how familiar or comfortable she is around them since I'm not there when my mother in law is watching her. All I know is that she's clueless around the pool and toddles around at full speed and I.can.barely.stand.it. I cannot relax on a warm sunny day if my kid is awake.

Yesterday we went out to the family cottage for the first time of the season. Last year it was fun. I could stick her in her bumbo and take pictures of her. I could lay her under her play gym and she'd kick and squeal and not tumble down the stairs. Well, wouldn't you know it, the cottage has TWO decks with a few sets of stairs! Why are there always hard wooden stairs everywhere?! Then of course there's Darby who wants to run around to her heart's content, but I have visions of doom and freak accidents and I cannot contain both my crazy dog and my curious child. If it weren't for nap time, I would have no time to recharge and regain what's left of my sanity.

I assume that I'm not alone in the mom-related anxiety battle. I'm just frustrated that I was always fine before! I was fairly laid back (yet seemingly responsible) and the thought of having another child (and I thought for a while that I maybe wanted a bunch of kids!) makes me completely overwhelmed when I think about the possibility of never relaxing again.

When we're home, I am mostly at ease, because I know what Charlotte is capable of. I just feel sick to my stomach and cannot chill if we're in a new place these days!

Do you ever feel the same way? How do you learn to chill again?

I Love Self Diagnosis

I am not a hypochondriac. I am, however, very self aware. I think this is a good thing when it comes to being healthy and taking care of one's self. When I did massage therapy, I was constantly shocked at how people would come in and say "no major problems" and then I'd find some crazy bulge or bump and advise them to get it checked out. How does one not notice a giant blobby bulge on their side? (That person came back to thank me as it turned out to be something quite serious.)

Since sometimes my doctor is less than helpful (see here), I end up doing my own research and hoping I don't drive the doctor crazy when I have a suggestion as to what I might have going on. 

This weekend I did a lot of research. We traveled up to my in-law's condo in northern Michigan to take advantage of the (predicted) great weather and the long weekend. It started off great, but on Thursday evening I noticed kind of a weird ache in my side. It felt like I had just went jogging (ha!) and I had a side ache. I even mentioned it because I was quite uncomfortable to sit down. I of course ignored it because it really wasn't a big deal and odd things happen - especially when you're pregnant. The next morning after breakfast I noticed that my ribs and shoulder were really achy. I had assumed it was just from sleeping in a different bed, carrying around a toddler, growing in pregnancy, etc etc....

I looked into visiting a chiropractor in the area but I thought it might be tough to manage a new patient visit around a toddler schedule and wasn't convinced it would really do the trick for muscle pain. It continued to get worse anytime I sat down and it became painful to take deep breaths. I don't normally take drugs but I figured it'd be the only thing that really helped in this case since my husband is not a master of therapeutic massage. I called my OB and told them that I had muscle pain, my baby is doing great, and could they prescribe me something to ease the pain so I could carry on with my weekend. 

Unsurprisingly, they offered little to no help and even asked the "are you bleeding?" question that they love to ask. I wanted to give a smart ass response about how yes, I actually delivered my baby, but now my shoulder hurts real bad...can I get some flexoril? They advised me to go to the nearest emergency room because they should rule out a blood clot in my lungs. I explained that it was not difficult to breathe, it just hurt my ribs when I did. So my choices were tylenol or the ER. I know people do this all of the time, but I knew better. I wasn't going to go for this. That is just dumb. 

I carried on through the day doing just fine and we went to a nice dinner in the evening and just a few bites in to my loaded mac n cheese I started to have intense pain in my side and shoulder. I called my brother who is a physician assistant to see what he recommended. I didn't want to go to the ER but knew I needed some relief. He encouraged me to go just to rule out a pulmonary embolism (which of course I knew it was not!) and hopefully get some pain relief that is okay for pregnancy. So we left my delicious food and our family to go to the emergency room. Ack.

I told them my OB told me to come in to rule out a blood clot. And that's it. No further tests. I don't want to be here all night. I have a little girl I'd like to get home to. Since I obviously will not have a blood clot, can I also get a pain reliever that actually works? 

They poked and prodded me and made us wait. I was in so much pain I could barely sit in the hospital bed without them making some major adjustments for me. My baby was looking good and they weren't concerned about my pregnancy. After a few hours they were able to rule out an embolism and they gave me morphine (but one Aleve in the morning was about the end of the world when I called my dr.) for my pain. The morphine helped about 70% but I could still feel the pain when I breathed deeply. They sent me home with some pain pills as well, but I would only take them as a last resort.

I was happy to find out that nothing serious was going on but bummed out that I still had pain after morphine. The next morning I was still very sore and didn't feel well, so I took a prescribed pill. It didn't do a thing. Are you stinkin' kidding me?!

I started to regret not asking for further tests after doing some internet research. I noticed the pain was the worst after eating. I felt so stupid with some of my google searches because I had no idea that the two things could be related. "Shoulder and side hurt while eating" - it makes it sound like I'm shoveling food into my face hole so fast that my body is getting sore. But I actually started to get some answers. At least I knew I wasn't crazy. I do have my routine OB appointment tomorrow so hopefully we can discuss what might be going on and maybe even have another ultrasound to check out a few vital (or non-vital) organs that may be the cause of all this ruckus.

I decided to really watch my diet the last couple of days since I noticed that the pain increased with eating. I ate very little and very bland food. I still had plenty of pain but it didn't last as long. I basically have gone two days eating very little and am feeling much better, but could really use a cheese steak hoagie about now. I'm thinking that's not a great idea.
If I can't eat good food in addition to no longer imbibing libations I may 1) not be as enormously fat as I had predicted and 2) be quite unhappy.
Hopefully I can get some answers soon and start feeling better!

Now that I've bored you with my medical history, it's time to move on with my day.
If you need any help with diagnosing yourself with interesting medical conditions, let me know. I'm happy to google it for you.

Life in Chaos

In general, I love being organized. "Ha!" say those who know me, because if you've showed up to my house unannounced, you'd think being organized is the last thing I love.
However, haters, given the time and opportunity to get things clutter free and organized, it's such a good feeling.
I've really been using my time in the last week to tackle a few little projects, but until our basement is done, it's going to be next to impossible. We have a spare bedroom that when I redid it a couple of years ago, it was intended to be a craft/sewing area, ebay merchandise, photo boxes, and gift wrap closet. But when we started our basement, we had to move a bunch of junk upstairs to either get it out of the way, or make sure it didn't get dusty. So now the spare room has tons of crap in it. I want to clean it out and get it ready for bg#2 (baby girl number 2) since I have her bedding and her crib and mattress are on the way.
But I cannot clean it out since I have no place to relocate the junk. I'm a big fan of throwing things away, but we actually need all of these things.

Example 1 of why I'm going nuts: I have a massage table from my former career. I had to bring it upstairs from the basement. I had a sale pending, but it fell through. It sat (folded up, and in it's carrying case) in our great room for weeks. We don't use that room for much, but it's the first place you walk into when you come into the house. When we had guests over for my husband's party, Marcus wanted to make sure it was out of the way. So he moved it into our bedroom...where there is also no room. So now, the 30 pound beast is leaning against my dresser so I can't open any of the drawers without leaning it against the bed, or trying to move it back downstairs into the great room.

Example 2 of why I'm going nuts: I had a basket sitting out that I had packaged a Valentine's gift in. It became repurposed when random things were being placed in it. Nook charger sitting out? Put it in that basket. Half used candle - basket time. Medicine bottles that made their way downstairs? Why bring it back upstairs when you can put it in the basket to forget where the hell it is when you have a raging headache? 6 foot grocery receipts? You wanna hang on to that shizz, put it in the basket.

I know it's going to take a while to get the whole house in working order again, but the basement should be done in the next two months, I'd like to say. And then we have a new family member in the next 4 months...so maybe I can enjoy approximately 2 months of an organized home.

hm. doubtful.

Anyone have helpful tips on staying clutter-free and organized when you don't have a place to put your crap?

Tech Support

I had to call Dell Technical Support today because my laptop charger has been giving me grief. Sometimes it works, but mostly it doesn't, so I can use my computer for 3 minutes at a time in between battery charges. When I got home from work I had a raging headache from what I know is a sinus infection, but my dr. won't write a prescription without seeing me and I can't see him for another a week. My whole entire face hurts and my teeth hurt when I walk. What this has to do with tech support? Nothing. Just talking.

But anyway, I am trying to convince Ramesh that it's just my charger and not my computer. He does not believe me and he repeats everything back to me but spells it using the ham radio alphabet. It's taking forever and I know I only have moments before Charlotte wakes up from her nap and also I really need to pee.
"So that's Echo Mike India Lima Yankee dot Romeo India November Golf November Alpha Lima Delta Alpha at gmail dot com?"
"I guess...."
So we ran a teensy diagnostic test which didn't prove anything, and now he tells me I need to send in my laptop and it will take 10-12 days before it is returned to me. All I wanted was a warranty replacement battery charger because the manufacturer brand is super expensive. I know I can get one on ebay for 1/4 of the price, but free is free. But now it's not. Now it's 10-12 days. He tells me that I may want to go get a glass of water (?) because it's going to take several minutes while he gets my dispatch number and whathaveyou. He tells me that I am going to on speaker phone so he can hear me, but I will not be able to hear him.
I still really have to go to the bathroom.
I also put him on speaker and think about muting it so maybe I can haul ass to the ladies. It's only been about 4 minutes and he said it could be up to 10, so  take my opportunity. I kind of laugh to myself because being in customer service, I've taken calls knowing that the person on the other end of the line is using the bathroom. It's totally weird, but most of the time the people I speak to are either elderly or sick, so I give them the benefit of the doubt and just sorta laugh when I can hear them tinkle...or more.
So I go for it. Ahh....sweet relief...."IMILY? THANK YOU FOR HOLDING"
ARE YOU SERIOUS?
I take 1 minute out of my day to pee and if it's not my child interrupting, it's Ramesh.

Did you know it was going to head in this direction when you began reading this post?

It's Been a While!

Life lately has been sorta busy. Okay, not that busy, but I just haven't kept up on the blog.

Charlotte has started walking and it's absolutely awesome. She's so stinkin sweet (in my humble opinion).
The only real difference so far is the likelihood of falling, but there have been no injuries so far. She manages to have a look on her face that says "don't throw that at me!!" even though I'm not holding anything. She's always prepared to make a crash landing.

Marcus and I went to Las Vegas about a week ago for a long weekend. His brother and his wife joined us in the fun, and boy, was it fun! (I never know to say: my brother in law and sister in law, or marcus' brother and sister in law or what. i could say my brother and sister in law, but that isn't exactly the relation...whatever - they're close family.) We stayed at THE Hotel at Mandalay Bay for the 3rd time. We really like it there, but decided for future trips it's time to check out some place new! We just get so many good email offers it's hard to pay 3x as much some where else.
Anyway, the food just about everywhere is the best quality and absolutely delicious. You end up paying a premium for drinks most places, but there are lots of happy hours with half off stuff! We met up with a friend of my brother in law who works for a club in Vegas, and that was an adventure in itself. Ha! He took us to a club where we had our own table with bottle service. The Vegas club scene is serious business, folks. There is no joking around, you must either be looking hot or attempting to look hot the entire time. That's exhausting. I was wearing a short strapless dress and still managed to look like a grandma compared to some of these girls. An amazing grandma, maybe. :)

We were more than ready to come back home to our sweet little nugget of a child and get back to work.
A few days before we left for our trip, my old boss contacted me to see if I would be interested in working there again. I used to do massage therapy, but over time it got to be very wearing on the ol' joints. So about 3 years ago, I left that job for a complete career change. I grew to really like the job I have now, but thought maybe doing a couple days of massage would be great!  I would work two afternoons a week. The stars aligned and everything seemed ideal. I had childcare all lined up for the additional 8 hours a week. So I agreed to it! The day after we returned from our trip, I went in to my old work place, and it felt great. But as soon as I started working, I could feel the pain in my wrists immediately, but I completed my afternoon.
And that weekend, I was looking ahead on my calendar, and discovered not only did I need to find child care for the last two weeks of February for my current 20 hr a week job, but now I had to find someone for the extra 8 hours I just took on. I had a handful of people who could help out an hour here and there, but many of them are several miles away. It started to fall apart. Everything that lined up so perfectly was pulling apart and it was a struggle to make it work. So I had to let them know it wasn't go to work. It was so quick, and I felt super flaky. This isn't something I normally do, but at the same time it's what I needed to do.

So that's life right now. I'm starting to feel more settled with my decision, and life shall resume as usual.
Right?

Where Are My Magical Powers?

So I've been on this clean eating/weight loss kick for 8 weeks now. I've cut out most processed foods, I drink a cup or two of green tea daily, I've lost nearly 10 lbs. But um...I don't feel any different. Where is my glowing beautiful skin? Where is my boundless energy? Why do I still have internal conflict every.single.day about NOT getting fast food?
I know. I need to work out. It's been nearly 2 years since I had my awesome fitness routine and I felt amazing. I did Insanity a couple months ago but only lasted about 3 weeks.

I randomly started getting email newsletters from a local personal trainer and I thought it was spam. I ignored it. They kept coming. I started to read them. I became intrigued. He's offering free sessions and I don't know if I should try it. (The place where he trains also offers classes) It's a big time commitment and with Marcus busy two evenings of the week already, that means I would have to work out on nights that he is home, and then we would never see each other. So that leaves the "work out at home" option. booo. I need motivation. And apparently my squishy gut isn't motivating enough.

You know what isn't motivating? The fitness boards on Pinterest. If I have to see one more hot girl's abs with tips on how to stay trim...I might lose my cool. I saw this tip somewhere : Eat ice chips when you feel hunger coming on." Woah woah woah sister. That is a TERRIBLE idea. The reason she looks so amazing is because she works out for 2 hours a day, 7 days a week. Good for her.<tramp>




"5 Rounds 20x squats, 20x pushups, 20x situps and a big ass boob job"
via:http://pinterest.com/pin/94575660894473758/

 I WILL NEVER LOOK LIKE THIS NO MATTER HOW MANY ROUNDS I DO. Ugh.

EDIT: I'm not saying I want to look like that...I'm just saying that no amount of  "working out" would make anyone look like that. except them, apparently.

Go Ahead, Laugh At Me

But you might feel bad about it.

Today was one of the crappiest days I had in a while...as far as everything-going-wrong type of days go. I mean, when I think about it, I realize it's not bad. At all. But in the midst of trying to not go bat-shit crazy, it's hard to have perspective.

Let's start at the beginning. Time change. That effer can really screw with you. My facebook friends will already know that I took to the interwebs to voice my frustration, but that was really only the beginning.
I had to leave my house by 7am this morning, earlier, if I wanted to be on time for once. Well, at 6:45, my Charlotte-alarm was squealing and I leaped out of bed in a panic, wondering how much dry shampoo it would take to make my hair look like it had been wet-shampooed. I make a bottle and bring Charlotte to our bed and hope that Marcus can stay in bed with her for a few more minutes while I shower. (I decided I didn't want to waste an entire can of dry shampoo.) After I emerged from the bathroom, Marcus groggily asks me why I have to be to work so early...? Meanwhile it's actually FIVE FIFTY FIVE. AND MY DAUGHTER IS UP FOR (WHAT SHE THINKS) THE DAY. Ho, no. I got lucky and she went back to sleep.  Score for me.
I was able to get ready without too much annoyance, save finding a dirty thermos that had a little puddle of old coffee in it when all I needed was a clean thermos...
I load Charlotte up and head to my mom's to drop her off for the day. It's about a 20 minute drive, and then back another 20 minutes to work. Marcus had loaded up an old crappy air compressor in the back of my van since he just sold his Explorer and replaced it with a tiny impractical car. (I suppose that's an entirely different story.) He told me to go easy on my brakes and watch it on the curves because the air compressor may not stay upright. By the time I made it to the edge of our neighborhood, the stupid piece of crap went crashing over, terrifying me and my daughter and leaking oil in my sweet mom-ride.
So I move over to the side of the road and I try to lift it back up. I am wearing a skirt, tights and a dress coat. I'm crawling into the back of my van and surveying the oil spill dressed like a congress woman. (or a flight attendant, or librarian, as I'm often mistaken for. oh, and preschool teacher.) I attempt to lift the big dirty beast and it won't budge. I call Marcus and am very rude. I call my mom to see if she can meet me a little closer to the highway to save some time.
After I made it to the the highway exit, I transferred my kiddo into my mom's car and asked if she could maybe help me. I was able to lift up the compressor and adjust some newspaper to soak up some of the oil, but I can tell it's not going to stay in this position for long. There were some bungees and tow straps "holding it in place" but they may as well have been birthday party streamers as they were draped gracefully throughout the back of my van.
I said my goodbyes to Charlotte and my mom took the diaper bag and asked, "Where is her bottle?"
My spirit crumbled. How could I have forgotten?! My mom offered to pick one up at a near by store, knowing they don't have "her kind", but anything would do, right?!
I left for work, called my boss and said I needed to drop the oil monster to my husband's work because I wasn't going to leave it in my car all day. Within moments, it crashed onto it's side once again, even louder than before. I tried to adjust again after pulling into a gas station, but cannot get it to budge. Really missing the ol' personal trainer right about now. (I just asked Marcus, the compressor weighs 100 lbs. That explains my inability to lift it.)
I was 45 minutes late to work with an oil slick in my car, dirty hands, and a headache. It wasn't long after that my mom notified me that Charlotte refused to take the new bottle and protested loudly about it. It was going to be a long-ass day.
I honestly tried so hard during my 40 extra minutes of driving to be thankful amidst what I felt least thankful for. You know, taking a hint from all of the people doing 30 days of thanks on facebook or their blogs. I felt guilty for not praying the moment that I felt anger creeping in. Anger at Marcus for making me cart around what I felt to be a dangerous greasy time bomb, anger at myself for not being more responsible for setting my alarm properly, for remembering a bottle, and then forgetting a co-workers birthday card even though I just stopped at the store. I felt sorry for myself because on top of that, I felt like a pathetic wife and mother. Seriously, why couldn't I just get it together? I've been working harder at praying before I let things get out of hand. It doesn't always come naturally, and sometimes it doesn't feel like it's working.
I wanted people to coddle me and tell me that yes, my morning did suck, but then tell me how awesome I was and how clean my hair looked. But no one would. I can't rely on other people to make me feel better about myself.
I need to work harder on talking with God during those long car rides instead of fuming and getting more angry. It gets me nowhere.
So, I've determined something to be thankful for throughout my craptastic morning. I'm thankful that these days are (relatively) few and far between, and I'm thankful that even though I felt like I had worked a full day even before arriving at my job, I had a reminder that I need to spend more time in prayer. That in itself is probably worth it...and maybe, just maybe there will be even fewer craptastic days because of it.

side note: Charlotte refused her bottle all day, just as she had my first week back to work. But Marcus was able to pick her up a bit early. And that made me happy.

O.M.Naps.

What in the WORLD happened to my good little sleeper? After all of tose sleep troubles, we finally got such a great sleeping baby. 2 (usually) long naps in the day and 12-13 hours at night without a peep.
This week, Charlotte has decided to cry for a good hour before napping. I've tried keeping her up a little bit longer thinking she might not be as tired, but then she cries and fusses when she's up. I've tried rocking her, and she throws herself out of my arms. The most she'd ever fuss would be maybe 5 minutes before falling asleep, but this 45-60 minute business is wearing me down!

We lowered her crib this week and I do wonder if that has anything to do with it. She's always sitting up and playing in her baby jail. She's always been just fine sleeping in her crib or pack n play. It's where she prefers to sleep. But now? Who knows.

Anyone else have sleep issues around 9 months with their kiddo?

I've Fallen Off The Wagon

And I can't get up.

I feel like my life is in a state of chaos at the moment. I'm not talking about that "beautiful chaos" crap that having a child brings. I'm talking about "I just can't get my shit together" chaos.

Ive fallen off the eating right/fitness wagon that I was only on for a few weeks here and there. I have a random good day, but they're mostly filled with a donut hole, some cheez its, wine, and angry birds. It should be that I only have a random bad day. Time to switch it around.

I've fallen off "at least I'm attempting to stay on top of laundry and cleaning and cooking" wagon. I was never on that martha stewart freakishly tidy cute wagon. It's filled with a bunch of bitches and I want nothing to do with it.

I always brag about how I rarely get sick and should remember to stop myself from finishing the sentence because EVERY time within a week or so, I get a cold. So yes...I am getting a cold. It makes me crabby.

We joined our church almost 2 years ago, but haven't had a chance to get more involved, into a small group, etc...because I use my baby as an excuse. Even going to church on sunday has become so difficult because nearly every time we drop Charlotte off in nursery, I get paged at some point because she's so exhausted and doesn't have a place to sleep. (or the one time where they gave all the kids with teeth animal crackers and she didn't get one so she freaked the freak out!) Our services are at 8:30, 10 & 11:30. SURELY one of those times should work, right?! 8:30 would work if she slept until after 7:30, which does happen once in a while. By 9 am, this chick is ready for some zzz's. The nursery does have a pack in play, but it's in the area dividing the toddler room and the baby room. You think that's anywhere close to being a peaceful place to sleep? And on top of that, there are always 2-3 other kids that need a nap at the same time.
We've gone to 11:30 church, but since there is no service following, it goes reaaaalllly long and then we don't get home until ONE THIRTY. There goes Sunday!
My solution? Get a sitter on sunday morning to come to our house until she can stay awake a little longer in the morning. The hubs does not think this is the greatest solution, and thinks that we just need to keep experimenting. I'm all for testing the waters every few weeks or so to see what she can handle, but I just want some sort of routine on sundays and it simply doesn't exist.

In other non-whiney news, Charlotte is AWESOME. She had about 2 weeks of on and off crabby while a tooth was ready to break through, but now that it's through, she's SO happy. She's a fun little girl.

Okay. I'm not sure I'll have my crap together by my next post, but I'll work on it.
Adios for now!

The Ol' Shopping Dilemma

Um, if you remember ---> this post <---, you'll recall how sometimes shopping outside of the home is just not worth it.

With our upcoming vacation, I've been wanting to get a few new things. I could really use some new shoes.
I need good shoes for traveling, and unfortunately the ones I just got don't fit the bill.


oh, hey Cinque Terre, let's go for a walk.

I also wouldn't mind having just a couple of new shirts and maybe a dress. I dunno. I always get all shoppy when I have a vacation coming up. Whatever.

So here's where I'm conflicted: do I go *out* shopping? I can try everything on, see it in person, maybe get better sale prices than they have online..and hurry around to get it done in 2 hours because that's the window of opportunity my tricky daughter gives me...
OR, do I shop online while she sleeps and get more important business done during the day?
The risk I have with this option is: not realizing that I will have numb toes for 2 days after wearing the above shoes to a certain 10 year high school reunion.

My next question: how pathetic is it that my biggest conundrum in life as a parent is "to shop at the mall or shop online??"

L-A-M-E

A Word On Mom Guilt

I've been hearing a lot of stories lately about the guilt that is associated with motherhood.
I've had conversations about it, overheard discussions on it, and today on Hoda and Kathy Lee, they had guests on to talk about it. It's evident that this is an on-going battle that many moms deal with.

First of all, it's hard enough being a mom and making decisions that effect THE REST OF YOUR CHILD'S LIFE. We don't need your opinion on whether you think I should stay at home or go to work or if I should let her cry or pick her up or if I should breastfeed for 18 months or give her formula of if she should choose when she should start solids or if I puree every frickin thing so she can eat at 5 months or if she sleeps on her belly with a blanket or I strap her on her back or if I'm rigid with a sleep schedule or if I let her do what she wants....unless I ask you for your opinion.

I've been asked countless times (about going to work) "but isn't is so hard leaving your baby? <sad baby whiney frown face>" You know what? No. It's not. I don't know if I'm supposed to feel terrible about leaving her, but I know she's in wonderful care and gets to spend time with Grandma and her cousins. Don't get me wrong, my face sometimes tingles in anticipation of feeling her chubby cheeks smashed up against it. I can't wait to kiss her pouty lips and squish her pudgy thighs, but don't you dare make me feel like I've made some super difficult choice.

Another important point to make is that when you say things like "I know it's hard when mommy has to leave" or "some moms have to go to work" your kid gets the wrong message. Whether you stay home or go to a different job, what you're doing is work. "This is just the way it is" might be a more appropriate message.

Growing up, my mom had to work. She raised my siblings and me on her own (for a majority of the time) and I never questioned why she had to do it. It was the way it was. I don't know if she ever had any amount of guilt, per se, but for her it was just the way it was. No biggie. Now that I am an adult and have a child of my own, I see already how my actions and my response to life directly effects my baby. No need to get her stressed out about my personal guilt. Yes, I am going to deeply miss her when we go on vacation without her next month, but guilt? I don't think so. Traveling internationally across multiple timezones isn't fair to her. I suppose we could just not go, but it's also a possible once in a lifetime trip. See...here I go trying to justify it.

Anyway, I know this might seem like it's sort of all over the place. I should have mapped this out better.
All I want to communicate is that guilt is bullcrap. Do you what you need to do to help your family thrive, and don't worry about it. If that means taking a kid free vacation (I'm talking to myself), or if it means closing the door while your baby blows off some steam at nap time, don't worry about it.

Have you sworn off mom guilt, or are you constantly feeling it creep up?

The Me I Am.

Do you ever feel like you're not who you used to be?
There are so many different phases of life that remind me of how much I've changed since that last phase.

From the moment I found out I was pregnant, it occurred to me that life as I knew it was different forever. For years, I came and went as I pleased, busied myself in a million extra curricular activities, and had very few others to consider other than myself. How selfish does that sound!
I distinctly remember thinking, this isn't about me anymore. No matter what happens (with all of the uncertainty pregnancy and childbirth brings), I am completely and utterly changed because of this.
Those feelings were spot-on.
Women morph into these new creatures after becoming a mom. You learn very quickly that you are capable of so much more than you ever thought you were. In a few short weeks, you learn to run on E. You instinctively put someone elses needs so far above your own that in a way you've forgotten about your own existence. At least for a little while. The dust settles, the fog clears, or whatever analogy fits best, and you take a look at yourself and realize you will never be who you used to be, so it's time to figure the new you out.

This is what I'm currently doing. Trying to determine who I am again.
I'm not saying the old Emily isn't in here anymore. My kick ass-ness is still present. There's just a little padding on it. Some of the edges of fraying. Sometimes the kick ass needs a good polishing before it goes out in public.
And the problem  is I can't decide what I am. Am I the frumpy mom-lady I feel like most of the time? Am I trying too hard to be nouveau mom? Aack!
But instead of trying to figure out who I am and smack a label on it in my spare time, I think I'll just live my life. Because like I mentioned : this isn't about me anymore.

Well, all the time, anyway.

Share your thoughts. Anyone else feel like they lost themselves in the mix? Or were you strong enough to hold on to a few scraps of the former you?