Round #2

Just a quick update for inquiring minds...
I am close to the halfway mark with Baby D #2 and finding myself more busy/tired/excited than ever.
Harrison is talking up a storm and starts preschool in 2 weeks. I am amazed at this little man, he is happy and fun and seemingly very smart, so days with him are way more entertaining than I ever imagined. Although the baby stages were hard and great in their own way (i.e. not my fav), watching him grow into this sweet kid has really been a mind blowing experience!

Harrison had his 1st stomach bug recently. Still smiling through the vom.

His school meets 2 mornings a week starting in September at the Presbyterian church downtown. Mornings are filled with story times, play grounds and crafts. And socializing! I've signed up to be the class mom so I can be involved and meet some other parents with children his age. So far, I've really liked everyone I've met. No crazy judgey parents, no mean children, just a group of moms and dads a lot like us. Some are even busier; more children, different job schedules, etc., but it's really nice to get together with a whole class of people on a Tuesday morning and watch our little ones figure each other out.  After avoiding park meet ups for 2 years, I am so happy we went last week.

As far as pregnancy goes, this one has been an entirely different experience from day 1.
I had awful morning sickness for a few months. Also, being pregnant AND having a toddler is nuts. I used to go to work and come straight home. Maybe walk the dog, but mostly relax.
Yeah, that's not really an option now. I love my doctors (NO MIDWIVES!!!) and we are starting to play the name game. Not Eric's favorite past time.

16/17ish weeks (?) Who knows.

I am really lucky to be able to stay home and not have a job to add to this situation. BUT I will say, staying at home is no walk in the park. Especially now. I basically feel like a full time/over time teacher/maid/cook. I may not bring in a paycheck, but this is definitely more work than any outside job I've ever had.
I try not to let it bother me when people make snide comments about being a stay at home mom, which honestly rarely happens, but let me tell ya, it's no joke.
In the beginning, I wished I could go back to work.
Who wouldn't want a break?
Parents who work outside the home get social interaction with other adults! You get to accomplish set goals and receive money in return for completing those goals! You have a boss or employees that yes, may not be great, but can tell you when you do something right!
Moms and Dads who stay at home don't get that. Even if your spouse is awesome and tells you thank you or gives you confidence boosts of encouragement, it is not the same. And there is no paycheck for scrubbing toilets or doing laundry like you own a laundromat. There is very little brain stimulation in watching Sesame Street or reading Are You A Cow?
But, I get to teach my child.
I get to be the one who reads Are You A Cow and make countless pb&j's.
And I love it.
It is not for everyone, but for me, it is perfect. I realize being a working parent has it's own set of struggles, but every situation does. Just because a parent "gets" to stay at home does not mean life is a walk in the park (well not every day anyway).

Some days we play inside too ;)

So with #2 rapidly on their way, I am trying to enjoy this time and honestly cannot wait to see Harrison interact with his little sister or brother. I look forward to that tight hug around my neck every night and those crazy new expressions or sayings that fly out of his mouth every day. I can't believe I get to do it all over again. That, my friends, is better than any paycheck I've ever earned.

Blogger-itis

Harrison and I just scanned through all of my old blog posts and got a little nostalgic, to say the least. I cannot believe it's been over 2 years since I started writing about being pregnant. After Harrison was born, I tried to keep up with it and one day I decided it was all just a little too much. I took down my old posts, started a new facebook page and didn't really look back. Until today.

It took me awhile to get over the birth of my precious son and those first hazy crazed months of living with a newborn. But reading through everything, it actually reminded me of the good. My philosophy in recent months has been just to write when I'm inspired, which isn't a bad idea... for normal people. 

I, however, am clearly abnormal. I am inspired by WAY too many things almost every day. I also am quite severely Type A. This creative/Right Brain clash causes a full head but only rarely a full page.

That being said, my old posts are up and I'm in the mood to write.

Do you all read those Buzzfeeds or endless Huffington Posts' lists about parenting? I do. Well, I did. They've begun to loose their luster. "What I Wish I'd Known" and "What Your Friends Won't Tell You" and every other slightly interesting tag line seems to fill my Facebook feed daily. I loved them at first.  A few well-written posts from some well-known blogger about some stuff that we all theoretically sweep under the rug. Now, not so much. 

We get it... Parenting is hard. Labor is hard. Being pregnant is hard. Raising boys is hard. So is raising girls. Life, well LIFE is hard. It's great to find comfort in someone else's words, but I guess I'm all comforted out in this arena for now. The problem is that everyone's experience is different, so after reading a handful of these articles, I'm left feeling... sort of understood?

The thing is, I'm ok with that.

Wouldn't life be boring if all of our experiences could be summed up in a generic post from a stranger? I much prefer hearing from my friends and their victories and struggles in their own lives. I like that my experiences are my own. 

I have started to read through a few of my friend's blogs lately. Most of the time, they are quite interesting. From figuring out careers, travel, crafting, being a new parent and being a seasoned parent, these posts are not as polished, not as witty and not nearly as publicized. They are real, they all vary greatly and they are all quite interesting to read.

So to all of you novice bloggers out there, I am here too. Not solving your problems or cracking open any "truths" of life. But giving you a piece of my life. My crazy little world.
Sometimes...
When I have time.

From memory

Once again I have chewed on these words for way too long and now it's just time to write something down. The last couple of weeks have been difficult, as I suspect every May will be forever until the end of time. At least for me.  Next Friday marks 3 years since my brother passed away. I have been able to get through each one and every other day since that day with the help of some extremely wonderful people. Who I kind of remember.

Tragedy does something to one's brain. May 16th 2011 to January 22nd 2012 is mostly a blur. I have to look at calendars to remember dates and I believe it kicked off my need to be very organized. When I found out my brother had died I clung to every detail trying to make sense of it all. I couldn't. I still can't. Every now and then I take a piece out from a box deep down in the recesses of my brain and examine a detail, a minute speck, roll it around in my head, try to stick it in a puzzle place that doesn't quite fit. This usually lasts a few days until I get fed up and tuck it back into the box. (And mentally slam the box and kick it a few times too.)

My life provides a wonderful distraction from these fits of confusion and sadness, so I tell myself that one day I will solve this great mystery. One day I will figure out exactly how and why and then I will know. But that day is not today. 

Today, I can share something at least a little positive. 

Those first 6-8 months or so I pretty much survived because of a few key people. Others have swooped in since and each time I remember to thank them, the moment escapes me. Most of the time it's just too damn sad. So today, a week before the third anniversary of my brother's accident, I'd like to acknowledge a handful of people. 

I slumped my way through the first months and have already made my apologies to those who were on the wrong end of my grief. For the most part, I have been met with such love and understanding that I am continuously floored.... If they even read this blog, they know who they are and I still hold your kindness close to my heart.

When the news made it's way to me that afternoon, I called two people. Betsy-- the closest thing I've ever had to a sister, and Skip-- one of my closest friends. They both have brothers and I knew they would both be heart broken, but they were exactly the right people to help absorb some of the pain and shock. I have no idea if I ever thanked them... I know they never expected to be thanked either.

The details of their help and love fade in and out of focus, but they are always with me, reminding me that I am not alone. Pat and Mike, Abbi and Betsy, Ashley and of course my little bro Michael. My second family. They help me cling to happier times and remember how very lucky we are to have even one of those amazing memories together. 

Skip and Matt held my hands (and probably my hair too) while I navigated through a life of loss. They were by my side. I did not make it easy for them, but they stood strong, picked me up and helped me learn to be still at least some of the time.

I have no idea when I actually talked to my college best friends... Another detail that has been lost long ago, but I do remember Adrienne's voicemail. I remember Matt's confident words of support. I remember them being there for me when my life had crumbled apart years earlier and knowing that I could count on them through another crisis, even if death is a much harder pill to swallow than divorce.

I have no memory of an actual thank you... A call? A card?  Anything? But they make my list every time I allow myself to dive back in time. Words from afar that nestle very close to my heart.

And last for this blog are two of my mom's friends. Cindy and Darlene.

I remember talking with Cindy at some point while I was home and her calm, no b.s. attitude always brought me back down to earth. I remember feeling confident that if my mom, my parents had friends like her around, they might also survive. 

A little over a month later, I went to a friend's wedding. Looking back, this was probably not the best idea in my state of shock, but Darlene was there. She stepped in and reminded me that it was OK to have a little fun. That at some point, all of us have dealt with our own set of tragedies and the people around you are there to help keep you off the floor. I don't remember what all we talked about, I don't remember if I ever thanked her or Bud. But whatever she said to me kept me upright for most of that evening and that feeling is still with me today.

My list could continue for weeks... My dear friends and family never cease to amaze me and how they can handle all that is thrust upon them just for being a part of my life. To all of you-- Susannah, for crying with me over mashed potatoes and Flaming Lips... Nina and Ashley, for staying so close even hundreds of miles away... Adam, for your words and memories... Beth, for sharing your loss and letting me know that I am not alone, And of course my husband, (who should really just get his own damn blog entry)... Thank you. And everyone else who I did not mention by name... for the messages, the texts, the calls, the cards, the continued love and support, the memories... I am eternally grateful.

"I get by with a little help from my friends..."  

Bad Mom.

The first time I was accused of being a bad mom was about 2 months in to my new role as a mother. For reasons I can only blame on genetics (sorry mom.) I was having a hard time breast feeding. My son was hungry constantly. For the sake of a short blog, I'll skip all of the hairy details, but at about 7 weeks, I decided to try supplementing. My pediatrician agreed. My mother, mother-in-law, and grandmother were supportive, shared their own struggles and made me feel like I was indeed making the right decision.

My friends did not.

I shared my struggles with them and was out right told that I was lazy.

The second time I was accused of being a bad mom was when my husband and I decided to not quit bottle feeding cold turkey. At 1 year, my son had just cut his first set of teeth and we were struggling with introducing new foods and textures, poor kid wouldn't even try his 1st birthday cake.

Once again, our pediatrician, my mother, mother-in-law, grandmother, friends of my parents, husband, (you get the picture) agreed.  Once again, my friends did not.

Now, I'm not writing this blog to just bitch about my friends... Lord knows we all have our judgements. I am not claiming that I have never thought poorly of a friends' decision when it came to bedtime routine, feeding options, etc. I have just hung on to a little resentment over being such a "bad mom" and figured my journey into a non-judgmental role should be shared.

About 2 months ago, I was invited to a friend's baby shower. I went not really knowing what to expect. Would people be fighting over advice to this new mom? Would snide comments about whether or not to have a natural birth/c-section/meds start the second I walked into the door? Would every woman there have extreme opinions to overly share (like a lot of my own friends did to me?)
What I found was a group of about 20 women who shocked me.
These women fell on every inch of the spectrum of parenting. From co-sleeping to breastfeeding, I heard of every differing experience you could imagine.

What I did not hear was anyone being accused of being a bad mom.

I heard the sharing of stories. I heard support. I heard a conversation.
I saw people listening to differing experiences. I saw tears of joy and arm rubs of support.

I saw women. Not judging. No pontificating the "right way" to labor/birth/parent a child.

I was shocked.

I left the shower with a new sense of self. A new sense of motherhood. A new sense of womanhood.

I have read countless articles about mother's sticking together. Building each other up and supporting individual decisions, struggles and choices no matter how different from your own. I have begun to look at mothers I once judged in a whole new light. I have tried to hold my tongue, tried to remember that everyone is different.

I am surprised by how many mothers out there feel like they have all the right answers and insist on telling the world about it constantly.

All I know... all that I am certain of, is that motherhood is the most challenging, beautiful, humbling experience of my life. It has made me look at everything in a different way. I never EVER use this phrase (and keep my judgements about it to myself, thank you) but... I am truly blessed. And whether or not you think I'm a good mom, I know for damn sure, I at least try. I am not lazy, I am no more wrong than I am right.
To those of you who are so right about everything, good for you. I'm happy for you.
But, I'll be over here with the rest of the real women who struggle with decisions, google/webmd every sneeze and whine, constantly pray that my child will continue to be happy and healthy and thank my lucky stars that I do not have to do this alone.

Be good.

I have a few thoughts that are entirely too long for a facebook status update, so you get a blog post. Lucky you.

I'll try to keep it short and to the point because the long ranting version in my head keeps getting me off track and that's just not good for anyone.

My brother's birthday is in 1 week.  I find it very appropriate that he was born in the midst of the holiday season and every year since he passed away, I've tried in some way to honor him. Patrick was a kind soul who hated that people had to go hungry. No matter how a person became homeless or in need, it bothered him and he wanted to help. He'd give his leftovers to a beggar on the street. He'd give his last dollar to a friend in need. Whether it helped or not, he still was there with a helping hand.

And so, since we are already supposed to be sensitive this time of year, I am realizing that my brother's birthday plopped right in the thick of it, is helping me be a kinder person. 

If not for Christmas, then for him. 

I am remembering to be gracious for what I have, even in the eye of loss and sadness. I am remembering to not make snap judgements. I am trying to pass on a little bit of kindness. I don't know if the spare change I give does anything at all, but what if does? Isn't that enough? That was my brother's philosophy and since he's not here, I'm going to try my hardest to keep it going. 

This year, my sign of honor is a silly red stripe of hair tucked back so really no one can see it. That wasn't the point anyway. I brush or dry my hair and a few strands of red peak out and it's a great reminder to keep my spirits up and to try to keep Patrick's spirit of kindness on my mind.

Happy Birthday to my brother. 1<3

   

Well it was bound to happen...

Like most things in my life, blogging took a major backseat over the past few months. I'll spare you all a long drawn out recap and instead start fresh (ish).

Harrison is 10 months old today and thinking back to this time last year has given me a renewed outlook on blogging. I believe my last post was complaining (with unnecessary bad words) about a song. A flippin' song. Since then I really haven't wanted to write. I would start to form a topic to write about and inevitably it would turn into a massive rant that no one wants to hear.  Especially since I started this blog when I was pregnant. Complaints about the midwives or having to pee too much are definitely more entertaining than me calling everyone who has a different political view a dummy.

So I'm back. For now. And my original plan last year was to share my little life with whoever cared to read about it... Along with tons of photos...
If you do choose to read this please let me know! Follow me or comment or for goodness sake just 'like' the damn link on my facebook page. Otherwise I feel like I'm just writing into the abyss. The sad sad abyss.

And now for the photos...

Saturday night my hubs took me out to dinner with our nearest and dearest while the little man stayed with Gramma and Grampa. We went to Venable in Carrboro and I loved it. We rarely take decent photos and I don't like my haircut, so this was the best we could do.

The Skipper and I take even less decent photos, so I chose the one I looked the best in. Cause that's just what you do. (Sorry Skip.) Steel String Brewery was quite nice. And since we don't smoke we had the whole inside to ourselves, haha.

Sunday was my actual birthday... Now, last year I had a delicious cake at Sermets that Ceylan had made especially for moi. I was huge and uncomfortable but I had a wonderful dinner with my family and a delicious cake. This year, my celebration lasted an extra day since I was able to go out and have a few cocktails, but I ended up with this thing... Yes, that is a votive candle. Sad.

The past 2 weeks I have tie dyed just about anything I can get my hands on. 8-10 onesies and a few extra white shirts that were lying around have now been tied and dyed into awesomeness. Harrison is only keeping 2 or 3 but there are many more in his future...

We have now entered the stage where he's pulling up on EVERYTHING. I so badly wanted this child to crawl and roll over. Now I just want him to SIT STILL FOR 2 SECONDS. Or not go directly to whatever object is the most dangerous thing he could possibly reach. Or let me use the bathroom without attempting to scale the door/cabinet/every piece of furniture in the house. 

We've even had to lower his crib to the lowest little notch since I'm terrified he will flip on out one day. He's not even phased...

Ok folks, that's all for now. I'm off to work on some party ideas since the little monster man is going to be a year old before I know it. I hope to write again soon and to keep up now that I feel a bit inspired.

Show me some love and enjoy the photos!

Blah blah blah

I can't think of a good title for this post since it's a big load of nothing really.  Just some random thoughts as I watch The Bachelor... Which is the perfect show for multi-tasking.

First of all, I've rejoined the Twitter world.
Why? Who knows... I like the idea... However I have like 12 followers right now, so I feel like I'm just creepily stalking/trying to be a part of the famous people's lives I'm following.

Second of all, I need to start reading again.
The night before I went to the hospital to be induced I bought some books on my kindle... Completely underprepared for the whole 3 day labor + having an actual infant, I figured I could get in some good ol' reading.  6 months later, the books are still unread and I'm struggling to remember the massive list of novels I've been waiting to read. I have acquired library cards to 3 public libraries in the area and have only managed to check out and read a few children's books. My new favorite author may be Sandra Boynton.

Third of all, it's time to find some other mommies.
In Michigan I was introduced to the club world. My amazing friend Nina was a great organizer... She hosted many a wine club, book club, scrapbooking party, what have you. Now that we live in completely different states, I do not have the luxury of my own personal activity planner, so I started googling today... And emailing Nina...
I signed up for 3 sessions of MOM classes through UNC, which say they are for newborn to 6 months, but I think they'll let me slide (Harrison will be 7 months by the next open class). There's a Mothers Club that is meeting tomorrow at Open Eye, so we'll head over for some coffee and check it out. And the Chatham Library has a Toddler Story Time twice a week to mix things up.

What I *really* want is a group of other stay at home moms with children around the same age as mine to go on walks with/let our babies stare at each other. I have reservations about all 3 choices, but I'm going to try to have an open mind and hope for the best.

I suspect I will hate the MOM class since I pretty much think the UNC midwives are all torturous, "woman in a man's world" super bitches who will probably demean me for wanting an epidural and not breastfeeding until age 2... But, maybe things have changed since September...

And I am super curious about the Mothers Club and the Story Time. Am I going to encounter crunchy moms and kids with names like Lyric or Rainbow? Is this library at all like Ann Arbor's where parents are oblivious of the world and think shoes are optional in public places?
Oh the possibilities!