Ok, so I have sorta out of it. I’m sure none of you have noticed…….. *cough, cough*
Here’s the truth.
Motherhood is difficult on the soul. Even if you have one of the world’s most adorable babies, because let’s face it. I have one of those. LOL Granted, she is amazing. She is a great baby. But I’m human and this ginormous change can be really taxing on my soul some days.
But that’s only one of the reasons why I feel uninspired to write here.
Ever since I thought that my mother has found this site, I have felt suppressed and nervous. Other family members and some real life friends stumbled upon here, which ultimately was fine. But it took some getting used to.
Frankly, this blog began turning into something I wasn’t expecting. CENSORED.
I thought about shutting down this blog, but then I thought it would make me a quitter. Then I thought about making it private. But I don’t really have enough readers to do that. It just seems silly.
So here I sit in limbo about my formerly secret blog.
I really don’t know what to do.
So today I’ll give you what you probably want to see right now anyway. My little girl on video in pictures!
———Ok so apparently I can only upload my video’s to facebook. Bummer. So I lied and you will get only still shots. Anybody have any advice?———-
My sleeping angel
Her two month pictures. Every month I am posing her in the same way with the same outfit…. er, diaper only, to see the remarkable change she will be making this year!
Tell me that is not one of the most precious things you’ve ever seen. ADORABLE. You know, if I do say so myself.
While we were hanging out in the pool with some friends, this is what my Peanut did. Nap. With her awesome froggy legs.
Filed under: Uncategorized | Tags: confessions, diet war, paging aging, preggo protests, world's greatest husband
Ok… I’m not gonna lie. Today I had my first official meltdown.
Tears…….. tears……… tears…………*sniff*…………. tears………….. tears…………..
Oh lets not forget the tears.
Why???
My poor husband innocently remarked that I might have………………………………………
*gulp*
a stretch mark.
Did you hear me?!?! A freak’n stretch mark!!!!!
So of course I panicked and immediately went to go check out myself in the full length mirror hoping upon hope that he was wrong.
But he wasn’t.
HOLY CRAP-IN-OLEY!!!!!!!
What in the hellz bellz am I going to do?!?! I’m 27 weeks and I have 13 more weeks to go……………
Believe me, I oil myself up like a mechanic every single night. (NO I’m not using cocoa butter cream. First of all, its the actual OIL in there that works, and secondly it smells like vomit to me.)
Sorry. I need to go wipe my fresh flow of tears.
Please send StriVectin stat.
Filed under: Uncategorized | Tags: confessions, faith, not so fun times, preggo protests
It felt like just yesterday that I was feeling good about being fat.
Oh wait! That WAS yesterday.
I spoke too soon.
Because today, as I was arriving into a morning bible study I was accousted by this statement “I forget that she isn’t due until July. She’s SO BIG!”.
Damn. There went my self esteem.
Here’s the thing. First of all this lady is a very sweet lady. I’m pretty sure that she really didn’t mean anything by it. However, she is a mom. She is a proud grandmother. Which means that she has been pregnant herself. So why in the world would she make a statement like that?!?! I mean you have to understand because you have been thru it before, right?!?!
Let alone that we were in a bible study of all places. Meaning, we are all there learning about God’s love and his commandment to love one another among other things.
So let’s recap…..
She is a sweet little old lady.
She is a sweet little old mother and grandmother.
She is a sweet little old church lady!
Somehow the combination of these things made this hurtful statement sting even more.
The silver lining?
That I recognize that my sinful tongue and nature is no worse than the sweet old church lady sitting piously next to me. She and I are no different. Somehow I find comfort in that. Guess misery does love company.
I’ve been dealing with being “overweight” since high school.
I’ve had too many times where I’ve cried at my reflection in the mirror, or in the dressing room, or at a picture, or (fill in any place where I can see myself).
I have many dreams of being able to just walk into a regular store, pick out whats on rack and know that it will look good on me. That practically never happens. Why?
Hello?! Have you not been paying attention? Because I’m fat (and very short, which really compounds the problem). That’s right I’m saying it. I have what I like to refer to as “the big arm disease”. No matter how skinny I get I’ll still have massive biceps. Which would normally be ok, if I were a 6’0” male body builder.
And lets not talk about my tushy. That’s right I said tushy. I’m bringing the old school back. I go from (tiny) back to “HEY there Jack!” kind of back END.
You know what? I think I’m going to stop right there. I’m not going to dissect my very flawed body, because this post is about the FREEDOM I’m feeling about my newly even fatter body.
I’m finally able to wear some of the things I’ve always wanted to wear.
During this pregnancy belly phase, I’ve found that in addition to my usual jeans and flip flops, I am now sporting blinged up tight rocker tees. I wouldn’t have dared to wear these seemingly innocent tees because they are way too tight and long. But now I can sport them with confidence because I’m supposed to be fat and with a belly, which is much better than having a “pooch”.
This morning I pulled out a stretchy dress for church that I have been to depressed to wear because I think I look too fat in it. Well low and behold, I got SO MANY compliments on how cute I looked in the dress and how cute I look as a pregnant person.
Made my damn day!
So I might have been a former fatty, but so far (at least what the nice people tell me) I wear pregnancy well.
Maybe I should continue to stay knocked up for several years, just so I can feel good about being fat!
Filed under: Uncategorized | Tags: confessions, joy joy joy, utter randomness
Easter usually evokes several thoughts.
Jesus.
The risen King.
The Easter bunny.
Easter eggs.
C-A-N-D-Y.
Items in freezer:
Robin Eggs, Cadbury Eggs–both regular and carmel (several packages), Mini Eggs, Reese’s Pieces Eggs and regular, as well as plain M&M’s.
On the table:
Yellow Peeps. And yes, the yellow ones taste the best.
Houston……I might have a problem.
*Yes I put almost all of my chocolate in the freezer because it tastes better. I was given this info after someone told me to put a Cadbury Egg in the freezer. That was the beginning and I’ve never looked back. Try it. Its awesome.
Today is the day that I have been dreading for a long time.
Today is my previous pregnancy’s due date. My baby could have been born today.
But that wasn’t to be.
God had other plans.
And you know what???
I’m not nearly as sad, depressed or mournful as I thought I was going to be.
I realize that while that hardship was indeed difficult, it is in God’s hands and this was His master plan.
Now the Lord has given me a new child that is in my womb (with a mighty kick I must say!) that will soon greet this world in a few short months.
Nope. I don’t feel wronged or regretful.
I feel joy and anticipation for this new child.
That’s not to say that I don’t reflect upon what I had, but really, that baby was never mine. It was always God’s and is now with my sister. One day I will see him or her and thank them for their impact upon my life. Even though I was never able to see them grow on earth, that baby has blessed me.
And now I have another blessing on the way.
So today I choose joy.
I know I didn’t finish my entire story. After writing Part 1 and Part 2, I was tired, both emotionally and physically. I was just tired. Now that I’m coming out of the fog, yet still feel directionless, I feel the need to purge. Therefore I decided to finish my story. Here goes.
Once I actually saw the baby, the seven week old fetus, I knew it was over. Of course it was over. It was right there in my face, unrelenting reality. My tears stopped and my breath exhaled. It was over.
A male nurse came by to take me upstairs for my surgery. It was quiet between us, except for my softly spoken “thank you” when I was placed before the three signs that read the rules and what was going to happen. A nice touch.
My doctor finally met me, and she was kind enough to invite Mr. Cat from the waiting room to see me before we sucked out the remaining hope I had left.
She began scolding other nurses for not arriving sooner. I kept repeating to any staff person who would listen that I had passed it, but no one paid me any attention. It was straight out of a horror film. Screams, yet not a soul would listen.
I finally spoke up and told my doctor, “the only complaint I had was telling the nurses over and over and over again that I needed help, and nobody would help me.”
Well that was the log in the fire. My doctor was not happy hearing that. She immediately called the nurses from my first room and forced them to “fetch it out of the trash can”. Of course, this was to ensure that it really did pass, but how gross is that?!?!
When I woke up, those same damn nurses were right there. And to pour salt into the wound, they wouldn’t let me leave. Plan was to allow me to go back home and rest in peace in my own surroundings, while having no limit in my diet. So much for following any sort of rules.
Apparently my blood pressure was a little too low for their level of comfort. All I could think was “oh NOW your concerned?!?!”. Mr. Cat was still reeling from his anger fit and wasn’t too keen on staying at the hospital. Luckily for us, we had our own private room, so at least he was able to sleep in the bed next to me.
When I woke up the next morning, and they sent me a liquid diet. The amount of ignorance was almost laughable at this point. All I could think of was that I just wanted to go home. That’s all. Was that too much to ask?
After nearly two hours of waiting for nothing, we were finally set free.
I was starving from my liquid diet and craved a bagel with egg, sausage and cheese. I knew just the place. Mr. Cat drove to the location and wouldn’t you know….. the place was EMPTY. No joke. There was a resale sign up front and center.
Are you freak’n kidding me?!?! All I wanted was a damn bagel for goodness sake!
At this point all we could do was laugh.
So laugh we did.
It’s nearly midnight and I can’t sleep.
It’s finally chilly enough outside to bundle up in my husbands comfy socks and an old sweatshirt from the 80’s. I just noticed that Luke ate half of the arm bands. Dammit.
Leia is looking for a good place to snuggle. She found her place next to my leg. She’s so cute.
Mr. Cat and I had a hot round of (insert stuff that my SIL should not read).
I still can’t sleep.
So here I sit and ponder.
I feel like my life is starting to take shape, yet I can’t keep up. The train is moving, but I’m the guy running beside it yelling “wait! WAIT!!!”, because my lover is staring back at me from the cloudy window.
My life turned upside down. I took the hit. I dealt with it accordingly. I sobbed. I got angry. I told everybody, even those that never knew. Then I got busy.
Mr. Cat and I became a wirlwind of house projects. Projects that needed to have been done nearly a year ago. But I’m lazy. But I got a hard kick and I went with it. Some things got done. I was proud.
Now I notice all the things that still need to be done.
Very similarly to all the things that still need to be said.
I said a lot, but still need to say more. Yet, here I am unable to do so.
I realize that my blog has gone down the drain. I write fun fluff pieces because I want my life to be filled with more than sorrow, sadness and pity. I like fluff. Fluff keeps my mind off the facts.
Everything changed.
Some people feel they become adults when they move out of their parents homes. Some decide that they are adults when they make the grown up decision to have hot, sweaty, usually irresponsible, interlude with other people. Some mark it on the calendar as their coming of age moment alongside a birthday or main event. Others decide the day they exchange vows of “forever” is when they cross that invisible barrier from childhood into the uncertainty of adulthood.
This was my moment.
It wasn’t graduating high school, or college for that matter. It wasn’t saying “I do”, nor was it signing my life away to debt for the beautiful home I live in, or my upcoming major 3-0 birthday.
This was the moment that made me a woman.
The moment of losing something so precious, and so unexpectedly wanted, was my violent moment into adulthood.
And now that I’m here, I have no idea what to do with myself.
I want to say so much, yet nothing comes out. In fact, it’s exactly like singing for me. Many people have said in my lifetime that I have a gift. A gift of song. But when I sing, the song that plays in my severely emotionally dwarfed soul is “Nobody cares to listen to you. You should just stop now.” So that’s what I do.
I simply stop making sounds. I stop believing that others might care. I do my best to make myself un-bothersome to those that are more important than I.
I just stop.
And that’s where I am today. I’ve walked so far, yet I look back and can’t find the street I’m on, or have any clue as to where I need to be headed. And that’s life.
I’m rambling on again. I have no idea where I want this blog to go. I know that I enjoy it here. I mean, just look at this pretty thing! It’s gorgeous. But I know that I’m not being a very good blogger, or blogger friend, right now. I don’t always respond to your comments like I have been. I know I haven’t been to your blogs on a regular basis like I once was. For all of that, I’m sorry. I know I’m not the same girl I once was.
And maybe that’s ok.
I have faith to know that things are going to be ok. With or without a baby in my future. Frankly it still scares the living hell out of me to think of myself as a mother. But that’s a whole ‘nother weeks posts I’m sure.
I realized it’s now almost one o’clock in the morning, and I’m babbling on about everything and nothing at the same time. Hope you stay with me. I would love the company into the uncharted land out of my childhood. Frankly I never liked my childhood anyway. I always think of that line in “Hope Floats”….
“Childhood is something you spend the rest of your life trying to get over.”
Kitty Concerto 