Sleep in Heavenly Peace

Maybe its the season getting to me. Maybe I have been watching Dr. Suess's "How the Grinch Stole Christmas" cartoon too many times. But theres just something in the air that makes you appreciate your family and all you have around this time of the year. My eyes well with the tears when I think about how this is Lucas' first Christmas and I am so excited. I have been singing Christmas Carols to him all weekend.

I remember when I was a kid, I used to hate it when I would go to family Christmas parties and everyone would say to me, "I remember when you were this big." And they would hold their hands inches apart or like, 2 feet from the floor. I usually would just smile and shoot past them, humiliated that they reminded me of that. Why would I want to be reminded that I was once small enough to fit in your hands when I am trying to be all grown up??

But now, I have empathy for those people. Watching Lucas grow as much as he has in the past 7½ months has made me realize what a shock it is to see that. Voicing the shock seems to help it sink in, especially when you feel like you havent changed at all.

There he is, chugging into toddlerhood, and I feel like it was just yesterday that I found out I was pregnant. Hes been so lenient with us...as new parents. Hes been there through the mistakes, the accidently letting him roll off of the couch and all of those other things that make you wonder if they will even live to see the age of 1. But there he is, thriving and growing and grasping new concepts, saying new words. Sure, he still loves his pacifier. But pretty soon, it will be something else. And before I know it, he will be wanting to borrow my car. I remember about a month before he were born, being in the hospital with complications due to my foot, and just listening to his heartbeat. That steady, wonderful sound that put my mind at ease. And now, I can hear his breathing when hes sleeping on me in the recliner. All of these things are going to be the things that I will remember no matter what happens or how things change.

And at the end of the day...hes still my son...even if in my mind, I am already watching him ride away into his own life.....

One Day in the chaos of my life....

What did you do today? That's usually the first question I ask Lucas when we are all strapped in the truck and on our way home. Like I expect my 7 month old to answer me. Sure. He would answer "DaDa" And shake his rattle. Most of the time, he is holding the stuffed giraffe on his car seat bar. I think that its his first nonrelative friend. But, its this question that gets me thinking: What did I do today? Uhhh...hmmm. Lucas vomiting on my outfit and making me change as I am getting him into the car seat swirls in my mind. A few trivialities. Oh! And then I remember: 1.) I got Lucas ready. 2.) I dropped him off. 3.) Went to work and ran around like a chicken with no head. 4.) Picked Lucas up from the babysitters. I swear, my explanantions need to leave room for long, rambling footnotes. These 4 things dont even begin to explain one day. Not one. They sum it up. But to really get the gist of it, to really get to the meaty part of the day, you need details. Not just the mundane stuff. Unfortunately, its the mundane stuff I remember. Thats the beauty of being a working mom. You do so much that you cant always remember everything.

Like 1.) I am already running late for work, Lucas has thrown up on my top and down my pants, so I am in the bedroom, yanking jeans out of drawers, shirts off of hangers, looking in the mirror and knowing that I am fat, and just hoping that this diet continues to work. Rush out of the bedroom, get jacket, get keys, get to the door, go back and get giggling Lucas, convince Bjourne he doesnt want to go to work with me. Get to the truck.

2.) Get stuck in traffic...brake lights as far as the eye can see. Radio playing crappy music....search for cd mix...finally, an hour later get to the babysitters...set everything down on the floor with massive relief, because I have practically no upper body strength (but why don't I? I'm always heaving.) Explain what they need to know about Lucas' morning, feeding schedule and instructions and then rush to work.

3.) Get to work. Do so many different things that I dont even remember half of them.

4.) Pick Lucas up from the babysitter and put him in the truck, crying. I sing to him: "Baby Belooooga, Baby Baloooooooga, I love you so!!!" I will spare you the rest of the details. It usually works. Sometimes it doesnt. So, I say to him: "I wish I had a mechanical pair of arms, right here," and I tap the dash board. "That way, we could safely wrap you up in them and you would be happy." Then we start singing Silent Night. Usually after the first verse, hes asleep.

But even that doesnt correctly sum up my day. I guess you just have to be there.

Lucas is doing wonderful with eating solid foods. Unfortunately, this has led to the weaning process. Hes better about it then I am. I am the one crying and in the 5 stages of grief.
Denial: No, no. Pumping twice at work and only getting 4 ounces altogether is normal and fine. No worries.
Anger: What the hell kind of crap is this?? 7½ months of breastfeeding, and this is the thanks I get?? What a crock!
Bargaining: Okay, no big deal. I'll just pump 3 times at work. That way I can get a little more milk.
Depression: Why am I such a failure??
Acceptance: You nursed him for 7½ months when you had nothing but trouble in the beginning. You didnt give up. Never, ever. And its normal....deal with it and move on. You are a wonderful mama.

So, thats the end of breastfeeding for Lucas. And its a little painful. Just a little. But the bright side is, I might can wear some of my prettier bras. Lets face it: maternity bras are not pretty. Least of all sexy.
Lucas is crawling just a little bit. He says DaDa and doggy and bye. Its so cute. And theres just something about the way he looks at you with those big blue eyes and you just know that he cant wait to be like you, to do what you are doing.

Why didnt someone tell me that they grow up this quickly??

Everyone Has a Stop Sign

I know, its been a little bit since I last checked in. I really do try to post at least once a week, but things get so hectic, sometimes, I just dont get around to it.

Thanksgiving was a blast. It could have been better, but as usual, my selfish, self centered addict of an uncle tried to ruin it. Hes like a disease. One you think has gone away and learned its place, but then all of sudden it flares up and steals the attention. Or hes like a poisonous weed, sucking the happiness out of everything. Anyways, for Lucas' first Thanksgiving, it was fine. He got to spend some time with his Uncle Larry. Lucas adores Larry. He kept laying his head on Larry's chest. Whether Larry thinks so or not, some day, he will be wonderful with his own kids. Lucas is eating solid food, and he felt like such little man sitting at the table, eating his peas and sweet potatoes and rice cereal. I am a little sad that hes growing up so fast. And I feel like I am not even there to see it. I am at work for 8 hours of the day. We spend roughly 2 hours in the car. And that only leaves about 3 hours at home. And by then, I am exhausted. I feel like I should be interacting with him. Not plopping him on a quilt with his toys and sitting in my recliner, staring at the television. And then comes the next question: where does this need to always be on come from? Does the pressure come from society? From within ourselves? Yeah, probably ourselves. In addition to society and tv shows. Before Lucas was born, I became a discovery health channels freak. It was like an obsession. I watched every maternity ward. Cried and prayed through every episode that I wouldnt be like that woman. No drugs and screaming. I would bury my eyes in the pillow when some poor woman received an epsiotomy. And then they cut to the new family at home, and the baby is now a toddler, and the mother is chasing him around, all clean and crisp and beautiful. And here I am now, with a 7 month old and some days, feeling like I havent showered in 10 years. And its strange, because we dont expect our kids to be on all of the time. In fact, we live for the moments they are asleep. If Lucas is tired or overstimulated, and I try to make eye contact to engage him some more, he will look over my shoulder. I try again, and he shifts his eyes down and goes into his own little daze. I imagine him holding up a small stop sign where under the word STOP, hes scrawled: "Bothering me! I'm busy processing reams of new information. Try again later." Just yesterday, we were at a birthday party, and he had been passed around more times than a football. Finally, he just sat in my mothers arms, and at that point, his stop sign would have said: STOP: "engaging with me! I'm all socialized out."
And just like Lucas, I vary in what I can give day to day. Sometimes, I am the energetic mother. Holding Lucas on one hip, making dinner, and cleaning the bathroom. Other times, I am the over stressed mother, dealing with all of life's little quirks, and trying to soothe the teething baby while other women commiserate silently, trying to help me through it. And sometimes, I am just the disheveled mother. Somebody's wife, mother, somebody's daughter, just sitting in the recliner, utterly exhausted. And at that point, my stop sign would be facing me, saying STOP. Just stop. No one can be on all of the time. Ignore the parenting books. Ignore the feeling that your son will be missing out if you arent on the floor demanding that he stop eating his sock. Sometimes, babies dont need any stimulation from you.

But, the other night, while innocently playing on the floor, he was bitten by a dog. (My computer screen just sprouted eyes and rolled them in pure exasperation. Okay, not bitten, but nipped accidently.) I was so outraged that this dog, this mutt, had bitten my child, that I snatched him off of the floor and held him to my chest, his poor little screams muffled as I held him tightly. Right before it happened, they were sitting there quietly, eyeing eachother lovingly. I wonder if Lucas felt as betrayed as Anna did in Chasing Liberty when she found out Ben was hired by her father to protect her. I wanted to jump in the owners face, and yell at them, my spit flecking their cheeks, "Why weren't you watching your damn dog? What kind of owner are you??" The problem was, the owner was me. It was right after dinner time, when Jeremy usually takes the dogs out for a potty break and time to romp. Lucas was lying on the floor playing. Jeremy brought them back in, and Julien flopped next to Lucas. Everything was fine. Then all hell broke loose. Lucas had reached over and grabbed a fistful of Juliens fur. And proceeded to yank it back and forth and up and down with all of the force he had in him. Julien just snapped at him. And I dont blame him. I have told Lucas hundreds of times not to do that. But hes 7 months old. He doesnt understand. But it scared him. I jumped out of the chair and shouted, "Julien, you bit him???!" Julien ran to Jeremy whimpering. acting like he was properly chastised. I, on the other hand, was furious. "Julien, we dont bite, we dont bite at the baby." I must have said 85 times. We have to be gentle with Lucas, and I am telling Lucas at the same time, you have to be gentle with puppy. He doesnt understand. Talk about talking out of both sides of your mouth. I went Julien and pinched his lips together and stared him in the eyes and said: WE. DO. NOT. BITE. EVER. NEVER. AGAIN. DO. YOU. UNDERSTAND. ME.? He was the first to break eye contact. Lucas was fine. Everything was fine. Except me. Bjourne is the most easy going dog. He just goes with it. Lucas tries to poke his eyes out, Bjourne just gets up and lays somewhere else. He usually fixes Lucas with the you-can't-get-me-here stare, because-you-can't-crawl yet, look. If Lucas tries to jam his cahonas into his throat with his foot, Bjourne rolls to his stomach. Bjourne is just like that. Julien, on the other hand, takes these things as invitations for rough play. I take it as an invitation to whip some dogs butt. He likes to decide on the stressful days to come in from being outside and poop on the floor. Then, as I am on my hands and knees cleaning it up, he comes in and tilts his head, almost like he is saying, "Just trying to give you a little distraction." I have enough of those, believe me.

We went last Wednesday and picked out our first live Christmas tree together. I took the camera, and Jeremy was ragging on me: "You are not going to take pictures in Lowes, are you?" I say yes, I absolutely am. And I proceed to explain to him that I want pictures of Lucas' first tree. And he tells me he doesnt even remember his own first Christmas tree. Exactly. If his mother had taken pictures, he would remember. Lucas will. I will be sure of it. So, we looked at different trees, and I snapped pictures, of Lucas pointing his fist at some, kicking some. He has to touch everything with his foot first. In fact, thats how we Christmas shopped for Jeremy. I held up two options, which ever one he kicked is the one we bought. It was great.

We are going to decorate the tree tomorrow night. I am sure I will have some wonderful things to tell you about that. Until then...

Is it all in the stars, already decided?

Sometimes, I wonder if things go around by chance or just one way that was always meant to be.

I used to like to read horoscopes. I was into the astrology. Not that I lived my life by every printed word, but it was just fun. And I used to research it a little. So, I pretty much know the signs and the personalities associated with it. Jeremy is definitely a Leo. He is definitely a fiery sign. He has the "sunny side up" attitude. Hes generous and very broadminded, even if he is a bit dogmatic. And he likes to be the boss if you want him to be organized. I, on the other hand, am an air sign...I am way too content to sail the opposite way of the crowd. What you think tomorrow, I thought of today! I do have the bad traits...the darkside...I am very unpredictable, I can be chaotic or calm, stubborn or flexible, rebellious or helpful depending on how I feel and what my own senses tell me. This is a sign which can in extremes be totally dedicated to being unconventional, being wired the other way round.This is a sign which can become detached to the point of coldness, stuck in a rigid and unrecognisable pattern. Aquarius has no care for what the world thinks and logically pursues their own set of social values. The isolation this brings is often a surprise, despite the super reliance on other senses, they can miss the obvious. This is so me. I can become detached to the point of coldness and it makes my husband crazy. Then there is Lucas, little baby Lucas, who is a Taurus. He is the definite earth sign of this bunch. He keeps me and Jeremy grounded. I picture that if the Earth ever came to an end, it would be the Taurus that was prepared for it. They would calmly handle it while the rest of us freaked out. Thats Lucas. He is the calm in the middle of our storm: in the rush of conversations between Jeremy and I, the need to pack the diaper bag, lunches, the laptop, cellphone, unplugging the flat iron and curling iron, the dogs meltdowns, my exuberance and meltdowns...there is Lucas, calmly growing in the middle of it. Learning to roll over, learning to push himself up on his hands and knees, looking around at everything. Moving his butt forward as if any second he might just rocket propell across the quilt. With his persistant nature, resistance to change, and love of security, I guess it should come as no surprise that sleep training isn't going so well. Sleep. What is this sleep thing people speak of? I wage wars in my own brain on a daily basis...move him all the way to the other end of the house, and not sleep because I worry the ceiling could crash in and smash my beautiful baby boy, leave him in our room in the bassinet until he goes to college...put him to bed...let him cry it out? Co-sleep? Is there no easy answer? Whatever you choose, you can always find scientific research to reassure you that any other method will screw your baby up for life. My opinion is that different children need different approaches, but this doesnt exactly help when I cant figure out the right approach to my own baby's sleep issues. Wouldnt it just be great to open up the paper and read in his horoscope "Please sleep tonight, all will be well in the morning." But we all know, we cant and shouldnt pigeonhole our kids...hes not on a Taurusean path...hes growing on his accord and taking his own route. Hes not going to excel in a cookie cutter world, and I would be a bad mother to let him think that. He needs to color outside of the lines to grow...and I need to grow with him...in the meantime learning that there is no simple answer to all of the problems this world has. And as a parent, you do what you can for your kids, regardless of what the circumstances leave you with. But at the end of the day, can you live with those consequences? Face the decisions you made and tell yourself that you made the right one? Or will you look back with regret? And wish you had paid more attention to what was in the stars?

Scary Mama...and Halloween is over!

I am sorry I am just now getting to update. This is harder then I thought it would be. Trying to keep up at home, and at work, it makes it hard to keep up with everything else. Anyways, we have a lot to cover, from Halloween to now so, let's get started.

I think I am a Halloween scrooge. Maybe because I am jealous of the parents who have children who are old enough to actively participate. I was excited to get Lucas dressed up as a pumpkin, and seeing as he hasn't gotten any teeth, I decided to go to the Harvest Carnival at church. I don't get any kids at my house because where I live, in a rural area, all of the kids hit the neighborhoods, and I live down a pretty spooky dirt road, that I wouldn't have ventured down for anything when I was of trick or treating age. But, anyways, more to the topic. I don't know why I thought going to a harvest carnival at church was going to be any better. I should have stuck with my original plan of just waiting until next year when Lucas could get in on the hype. First off, there were kids helping with the games, and most of them showed they were bored and frazzled as they handed out arsenic free candy to the winners of the games. The drive over to the church was nerve wracking, and then I get halfway there, and realize I forgot the camera. Which is why I need a digital camera. Its too hard to remember to grab my 35mm, the film, and extra battery. Then you have to get them developed, gosh, I am so straying off topic again! Anyways, I call Jeremy and ask him to please purchase a Kodak disposal camera on his way to meet me at the church. Lucas gets in a nap on the way there, which was good, because hes cranky if hes sleepy. I got to the church, and pulled out the stroller and put him in it. Which, he didn't look thrilled, I should add. I think my Daddy cursed me by telling Lucas he did not want to be a pumpkin. Why cant we just leave it alone?? Why cant babies, boys and girls alike, just be a pumpkin when they are small enough for parents to pick their costumes?? He has plenty of time to be a robot, or a ghost, or superman, or a ninja...or even Jason. Lets just let him be a pumpkin this year!
So, we get into the church, and it was a bad scene: too many kids, most of who were running and tripping over costumes, and weary parents chasing after them. The minute I wheeled Lucas through the door, we were swarmed. And almost immediately, his face scrunches up and he starts to cry. Until I come around to the front of the stroller. There's pandemonium all around us. Parents trying to convince kids to eat a hot dog, trying to persuade toddlers from eating candy. It was insane. In the end, I had to take Lucas out of the stroller. Then Jeremy got there. My knight in greasy, dirty, but nonetheless shining armor. I passed Lucas off to my mother-in-law and wheeled the stroller back to the truck. Jeremy and I went back in and we took turns taking Lucas to each of the games. From the safety of Daddy's arms, he was looking around and just taking it all in, like an entranced audience of a magician. He laughed as we threw barbies through the mouth of a huge wooden whale and I explained the story of Jonah. He watched in awe as Daddy threw bean bags and on the fourth toss finally smacked Goliath in the head and Goliath's head fell off. I didn't tell Lucas that story. He doesn't need to throw rocks. He liked when Jeremy threw the hullahoops over the lions heads. And every elderly person that knew me from my grandmother came up. And I would look at Lucas and I would ask him: "Can you smile at Miss Nancy?" Why, why, WHY do I ask him this? I know hes getting into his shy stage. I know hes going to bury his face in Daddy's shoulder or look anywhere but at the woman trying to tickle a gummy grin from him. Why should he have to smile at every stranger? He doesn't anymore, and I just need to stop asking him. We finished up the night with dinner at Chick-fil-a and a rushed evening at home. No, I didn't want to go, but in the end, I went, and when Lucas is older and looks through his baby scrapbook, he will realize and appreciate my need to get him involved. At least, that's what I hope!

That week was a milestone week for us also, in the fact that we gave him rice cereal when we ate our supper. He loves rice cereal. I think hes going to be like Mama and Daddy: we appreciate good food. We like healthy food, but we like to eat. So, I am instilling now healthy eating habits. We grill or bake our meat, very rarely do I fry chicken anymore. We always have vegetables. Those are the things that will help him later in life. I am a little overweight, so hes predisposed to be that way too. But here is where I have turned into Nightmare, Hideous, Scary, Ugly Mama. He has been waking up screaming around 2:30 every morning. Last Tuesday night, I did not sleep a wink because of that child. And I had a bad cold. Mix that up, and by Thursday, I was feeling just a little bitchy. On top of that, my milk dropped and that scared me. That is a mother's worse nightmare: when her milk drops in quantity. All that crap about quality over quantity doesn't mean dirt. You still worry, you stress, you think if any medical reason why. And sometimes, its just supply and demand. When your child starts eating solid food, hes nursing a little less. And your body adjusts to that. Its normal. But I was still silently panicking. Little did I know, that my first post-pardum period was coming. So, I attribute that culture shock to my unraveling.

If you are feeding Lucas his rice cereal, and that bowl is empty while he is still hungry, he is screaming bloody murder until you shove another spoonful into his mouth. So, Jeremy was in the process of mixing up the cereal, and I was pumping so that Lucas could have my milk in a bottle, and that way, I am aware of about how much he eats in one sitting. In the meantime, Lucas is just screaming. Which is a normal reaction for a hungry teething baby. I guess I just couldn't handle it. And I felt like Jeremy was dawdling with it. So, I very calmly and quietly and menacingly told Lucas to shut up that screaming or I was going to knock him slam out of the bouncer seat. Of course he didn't stop screaming, but the evilness in my voice, hurt my own feelings. And I know as a parent, that happens. But I hate it when it happens. Especially when I had just watched the latest episode of Gray's Anatomy and a young pregnant mother fell and her baby died and she had to give birth to a dead child. It broke my heart. And here I am with a healthy baby boy and I am threatening to throttle him if he doesn't stop communicating to me hes hungry. I just feel awful. I know its a TV show, but those things happen in real life. I guess frustration happens in real life too. I can remember seeing people around me having kids, and seeming so calm and put together, and their houses were clean. And here I am, frazzled, messy house and all wondering how they do it. How do they work 40 hours, and still keep it together?? Let me tell you, I suck at it!
I figure maybe on the outside, I look like I have it together...even though on the inside, I don't. I wonder everyday if I can do this, and if I can do it right...

A giraffe, a pumpkin, and a princess...then me!

Have you ever wondered what kind of animal your child would be? I imagine Lucas would be a giraffe. He has to be vertical, the higher he is, the better he is. In his ideal world, I would always be standing, holding him upright so that he can see everything. And he is starting to develop this need to do some things himself. Like feeding him his nightly ration of rice cereal. Nothing would do him but to hold the spoon himself. If I took it from him to replenish the cereal supply, he screamed bloody murder until I felt awful that his blue eyes were full of tears because of something I did. Then, I spend the next 20 minutes trying to avoid him losing his eye because he loves to stick things in his eye with his mean little hands.

Tonight is Halloween and I am taking Lucas to the Harvest Carnival at church. I know, hes only 6 months, but he can still go and participate in some of the infant activities they have set up. Plus, I can get my pictures for the scrapbook. I am looking forward to it. Hes so much more aware of things and because of that, I think that he will enjoy this adventure.

Things have pretty much been fine. Lucas did get his first goose egg yesterday. I was a little upset, not because he bumped his head, but because of the reaction. You know that when your child starts sitting up on his own and crawling, that hes gonna bump his head. And you expect that. But its a little unnerving when one person blames the other. I dont know. Hes okay, bless Jesus and the shepards in the field.

Well, I will post after the Harvest Carnival. I am going as a princess!!!

If You Ever Did Believe

I have to apologize for not posting sooner then today. It seems that since I took this new position that I am always busy. So, my time is gone before I ever even knew it started.



Since we are on the work topic, I might as well start there. Work seems to be going good. And its challenging me to learn new stuff that was once outside of my realm. I was a little nervous about it at first, but now, I am just jumping in all the way. We'll see how this pans out.



Now, on to the home front....being married is the hardest thing short of raising a child that I have ever and will ever do. It takes every ounce of me to stick with it and try to make it work. I grew up being criticized about my weight by my grandfather. And because of that, when someone starts criticizing me, I automatically throw up walls to protect me. My self esteem sucks because of that. So, here lately, Jeremy hasn't been himself. And he wont talk to me. And when he does, hes angry. So, the other day, he told me that he feels like he does everything. And that hit me really hard. Especially since I am taking Lucas wherever he needs to go, picking him up, doing the grocery shopping and taking care of Lucas when we get home at night among other things. So, whats the big deal if you have to cook dinner and wash the dishes? I just dont get it. After he yelled me and wouldnt let me leave, I hurled the cordless phone at him and it hit the door and broke and scattered into a billion pieces down the hall. The sad thing is, I was aiming for his big ol' hard head. In the end I think we managed to work it out. At least for now. I pretty much told him that I was tired of him acknowledging what I dont do and ignoring what I do. I never hear, "Hey Baby, thanks for making sure our beautiful son is taken care during the day so that I have a worry free day at work." or "Thanks for bringing him home, doing the shopping, taking care of the finances, and everything else." All the negativity really does start to bring me down after awhile. We have certainly made a mess of things. So, we are now trying to rebuild what we had.



I have a new little addition: His name his Julien, and hes Mavericks litter mate. And I love him. He is helping to heal my broken heart. Hes so cute and plushy. And Bjourne likes him because he doesnt threaten Bjournes status. Granted, I still look for Samantha. But I am doing okay with it. I gave her the final act of kindness and thats all that I could do. I have decided that I am done taking in animals for awhile. So, I have what I have.



Lucas, God love him! Hes growing up so fast! He laughs at things now. He thinks its great when I am holding him, and I am behind him, and I get really close and whisper in his ear to sing pretty songs. It really cracks him up! His smile is beautiful. Its like that Joni Mitchell song. I could drink a case of Lucas and still be on my feet. But its the cute ones that have tempers. He gets so angry if toys dont do what he thinks they should do. He'll start screaming at them and flinging them. Its cute. Hes starting to like being naked more. Now, when you go to change his diaper, he rolls over. He cant crawl just yet, so he just kind of lays there, on his stomach pushing him self up, trying to figure out just exactly how to get where he wants to go. He has also discovered he has a penis. I dread the day the questions start coming. With the fun cute stuff comes the bad stuff. He has fluid in his ears and hes been congested and snotty since our vacation the end of August. With it comes fussy nights and no sleep. And I want to know who invented sleepwear for kids. Who in their right mind seriously thinks that at 2:30 in the morning, when your eyes are still full of sleep and you changed a wet diaper, you can really button 2 gazillion little snaps while the child screams bloody murder? Havent they ever heard of velcro?? Tylenol is another one on my hit list. Their "use-the-enclosed-dropper-only" instructions are crazy. That dropper is the most annoying one I have used so far. You have to shake the tylenol cold medicine, then you open it and because its now 2:45 in the morning, you just want to medicate the child and go to bed, you stuff the dropper in it and it bubbles out the top and down the side of the bottle. What the hell? Cant we come up with a better dropper? If we can send people into space, why the hell cant we invent a more useful tool?? Finally, I get Lucas his medicine and give him boobs. They really are great things. No bottles to mess with. Just pull the bra down and feed the kid until he shuts up. I know that sounds ugly but by 3 in the morning, I am feeling pretty damn ugly. So, I get back to bed and its 3:30 and I just tuck him in next me and we sleep for the next 2 hours together. By 5:30 when I am washing my face, hes in his bouncer seat just cooing and laughing. Thats why they are so cute, so you can forget how evil they can be at night. I swear, there have been nights that I wonder if he is possessed by more than just fluid in his ears. But, I am trying to be patient because he is in pain. He can start to have solid food next month....rock on! I can't wait to let him start trying new things. Here he is at his 4 month pictures. He really is a cutie. I guess soon I will have to get him a high chair. Well, until the next time....

So, It's been a little while

Its been a little while since I last posted. And I think part of it has been because I have engaged myself in some deep soul searching.

My last post was informing everyone about Rayne. Well, that Tuesday, I had dropped Lucas off at the babysitters and headed into work. A proceeded to get pulled by a cop. I was doing 37 miles per hour, so I didnt understand why he was pulling me. The speed limit is 35. Apparently, I was wrong. The speed limit is actually 25 and it isnt marked. So, I plan on going to court on the 16th of this month and fighting it. I will let you know how that turns out. That afternoon, I took Samantha to the vet. I waited and waited and waited. And the vet came in, I told him how she had been attacked, and he opened her mouth to take a look. He had this look on his face. Like, he couldnt believe what he was seeing. He wanted me to look, but I couldnt. So, he showed Daddy. And he said he didnt think a dog could have done that. He took her to the back and Daddy told me it looked like a tumor in her mouth. Dr. Birdsall came back in and said that she had one of three types of cancer, and that all three were extemely malignant and deadly. And that it was a cancer of the blood vessels and that it had spread down her throat and was in her lungs. He said she couldnt hardly breathe and she was blue in some of her extremities. And I knew what he was asking me. And I just said, you want me to give you permission to put my baby to sleep? And he said that they couldnt do anything for her. So, I told him to do it. He left, and the nurse came in with the euthanasia record and told me to just sign it, she would fill it out. And I said no, she was mine, and I would see it through. So, I filled it out. And Dr. Birdsall brought her back in. I asked him not to do it in front me. I pet her and kissed her, and told that we loved her. And she looked like she was at peace. Like she knew I was helping her. I kissed her one last time, and he took her in the back. He brought back to me just a few minutes later, in this really nice blanket with a bow on it. And he hugged me and told me I did the right thing that she would have suffered. And he told me that if it was any consolation, the dog never left a mark on her. That she had survived that fight without injury. But when she fell trying to get away, the tumor ruptured. And thats why she couldnt close her mouth. And that it was for the best so that she didnt suffer. I had her 17 years. She was there for everything. My first boyfriend, my first broken heart. Her fur caught my tears as I worried about everything. She loved me no matter what. She adjusted to moving twice. She adapted to no longer being the only cat. She somewhat accepted Bjourne. So, I had to love her back and unselfishly let her go. And it was the hardest thing I have ever done. I never thought I would be in that place. It was almost someone elses life. I wish it were a lie. At least this way, I got to say goodbye. But its still hard. I can hear her purring in the dark, sometimes, I can even feel her, but daylight chases the ghost. I see her picture and I fall apart. I guess its those hints of her I am clinging to because I need them the most right now. And its the hardest thing. I wanted to chase after her, to change my mind. But I couldnt. I know, it will get easier. But its still so hard right now.

Lucas is doing good: except for the fact that he has fluid in his middle ear. Its not infected, but its causing him some pain. So, he likes to wake me up every 2 hours. I am so tired anymore. But hes growing like a weed, and he still has a beautiful smile, and hes worth every second of discomfort I may have. I love him, and I have no regrets. I couldnt imagine my life without him.

Jeremy is good. I am not sure we are. It seems like everytime I get handle on it, something happens. I know I have been down lately. But, I cant help it. Hes been off too. I just figure its a phase. And we'll hopefully get past it. I have hinted broadly that we need some us time. And I even helped him out on how to plan it. But apparently, it didnt penetrate his thick head. He still doesnt get it. I dont know. Part of me wants to say if he doesnt care then I dont care. But thats not the answer either. Thats what will end this. The I dont care factor. But I do care. I care a whole hell of a lot. But its hard to find the strength to fight a battle you dont feel like being in. I dont know. I'll just keep making him talk to me, and vice-versa, and we will hope for the best.

Until the next time I blog!

It's a Rayne-y Day

I feel awful. Let me just start by saying that. Not physically. Spiritually, and mentally and emotionally. I can't talk about it either because I have no voice. So, it SUCKS.

I tried to do a good thing and take in this beautiful husky from my aunt who couldnt keep her. Her name is Rayne (like rain.) Shes beautiful, and Bjourne loved her. She was gentle with Lucas. But apparently, cats are the other white meat to her. She managed to climb under our bed while I was giving Lucas a bath. She went after Samantha, my 17 year old cat. They ran into the bathroom, and Rayne jumped on top of her and bit her neck. It scared Samantha so badly that she peed on the floor. Jeremy managed to yank Rayne off of Samantha, but she cut her lip extremely bad. Other than being terrified and extremely pissed off, she seemed fine. But I didnt see her this morning, so I am worried about her. I know it sounds silly. But I am worried about her. I feel terrible. I tried to do a good thing, and Samantha suffered for it. So, not only was Samantha in a catatonic state of shock, but Rayne cried all night from the kennel. And I cried because its heartbreaking. Rayne doesnt understand what she did wrong. Samantha doesnt understand what she did to deserve it. And Lucas was hysterical because Jeremy and I were in the thick of it. It was crazy.

So, right now, I am looking for some kind of spiritual enlightenment to tell me that this was not my fault, that samantha is okay, and I did all that I can do. Until that happens, I am going to feel terrible.

I think sins not tragedies.

It's been a relatively rough week for me. Where should I start?

Lucas had to get shots on Tuesday, 4 to be exact. The last 2 nights he has woken up screaming. Not just crying. SCREAMING. At 2 am he was screaming so badly and was so inconsolable that I didnt know what to do. And of course, Jeremy was just as tired, so this led to bickering between us. Debbie says we need a date. I dont think hes interested in dating me. I have come to the conclusion that once you're married, it almost seems like they just quit trying. No more little notes of I love you found lying around. No surprise dates that include, but are not limited to, a good cup of hot chocolate with a sprinkle of cinnamon, and sitting at the beach, especially now that the Yorktown Beach is complete. I can tell you that this morning, I was ready to knock a knot on the top of Jeremy's head that would have been so big, he would have had to stand on his tip toes to scratch. I guess we will try to work it out. But things change when your life becomes nothing but babies, bills and housework. Not to mention his job may be in question. I think a contractor is bidding their jobs to see if they are cheaper then government, and if they are, they are required to offer Jeremy a job, but at what rate we wouldnt know. I think he is worried about that. So, that's the home front issue. I am tired. I am just tired. And the last straw after the hellish night, was my purse tumbled over in the car and all of my stuff spilled out, and I just went on ahead and cried.

Lucas is even refusing the carseat. You go to put him in it, and he archs his back and starts to cry. Then he stiffens his arms. I dont know why. So, I spend 5 minutes rassling him in the seat. Then he proceeds to stare angrily for 10 minutes. I love that little boy, but I hate when there is something wrong with him that cuddles and a breast wont fix. Its awful.

Now, lets move on to some funny stuff!

My father should have been a comedian. He says some of the silliest things! Last Friday, I stopped by to take him a cup of coffee. He was outside cleaning up after the hurricane. When I got there, he had this real disgusted look on his face. So, I asked him what was wrong. He proceeded to tell me that while trimming the bushes along the roadway, he must have disturbed some fire ants, and they managed to crawl up his pants leg and sting him all the way up. So, he was mad. He told me that "I have declared war on their asses! The toothy little bastards!" He told me that he had done the mexican hat dance, the egyptian slide and the hoochie-coochie roll and squaredance to get them out of his pants. So, he went into the house and got in the shower. Over the weekend, he was too busy inside the house to do anything about it, so on Tuesday, I talked to him, and he was gathering up his arsonal to take care of the ants. By the time I got there Tuesday evening to take him some coffee and just check on him, he was outside. He told me this: "You wanna know what I did? I went out there on my tractor, and I pulled up their home, which was that tree stump, and I took out back and I burned it. Then I went back up there and I dug them up, and ran them over with the tractor tires half a dozen times. Take that you gravy sucking, toothy little bastards! F*** with me again, and see what I do. Teach them to bite me. Next time, I am going out there with lighter fluid." It was so funny. I was laughing hysterically! It was hysterical. He is so funny. As far as he was concerned, those ants were causing hate and discontent in his yard. If you ask him about the ants, he will ask you "What Ants?" Because they no longer exist. He made sure they paid the piper for biting him. I still laugh about it, even now, as I am typing it. Hes so colorful...its a funny thing to witness. I wonder how much of this stuff Lucas will pick up from him and carry on. Hopefully, not the cusswords, though!

September 11, 2006

I have decided that this is going to be a somewhat serious blog given the date and the things that all American's should find themselves reflecting on throughout this day. On this day, 5 years ago, an attack that amounted to the 21st century Pearl Harbor took place on American soil. I am sure everyone knows about the planes that flew into the World Trade Center, aka the Twin towers and killed roughly 3,000 innocent people. And the horror and sadness of that day needs to be honored and remembered, even now, even 500 years from now. And for all of those people that do not support this war, my opinion, and this is just my opinion, we did what we had to do. Under no circumstances would this nation have say by and allowed terrorists to horrifically kill thousands of people and take no action. As far as I am concerned, it says in the bible: an eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth, and a life for a life. And there will be war and there will be rumors of war. It is what it is. We are ONE nation under GOD. So, this is my moment to respect and remember those who lost their lives this fateful day five years ago. And this is my time to say that I support our troops.

Well, things seem to be going good on the homefront. Jeremy and I have been getting along really well lately, and its kind of scary! We never have this much fun without something making it sour. But not lately. Here lately, we have just been hanging out and having fun. Its awesome.

And Lucas is just growing up so fast. I never tire of watching him develop. Its like Christmas morning everyday. Because everyday, I am going to get see him grow and see what new things he learns and what new things he discovers. Its so awesome to witness that. And will have more babies. I want lots of babies. I have a new appreciation for children. This is the hardest job yet, but its the most rewarding!

I visited with a lady that I used to babysit for and ride horses for. When I was a poor little kid, I wandered down that dirt road into the horse community. And her horses were the only ones out to pasture. She had 2 at the time. An Arabian/Sheltie mix she named Seeing Stars, aka Star and a full blown, flea bitten, beautiful grey Arabian named Kristel Bey. And she invited me into the gate to see them up close. And a friendship developed and I started riding and cleaning and babysitting for her. And I lost touch with her, but now that I have moved closer to her, I started taking Lucas down there. So, I get to ride again on Saturday for the first time in over 6 years. I am a little nervous. But at the same time, I miss that freedom. I miss it all. And now, I may get the chance to get to just enjoy it now. So, look forward to the post after that one!

Ernesto was the worse affair I have ever Had!

That sorry son of a bitch! The week I decide to go to Corolla, Ernesto decides to swoop in and ruin everything. Typical male. But I did get some awesome pictures of the beach before he hit and after he hit. However, I have lost everything in my refrigerator and freezer and my power still isnt back on. It sucks! I dont think I will ever have power again.

The vacation was fun. I think I needed it to rejuvenate. I loved getting to spend a week with Lucas. Sunday and Monday were beach days. On Tuesday, we made the God-Awful mistake of going to the Ocracoke Lighthouse. We had to drive all the way from Duck, route 12 to Hatteras Island and get on a 40 minute ferry ride to get to Ocracoke Island. In the meantime, I look down and the temperature on the truck was hot. Needless to say, we drove the rest of the way with the heat on full blast. All of the torture for a 4x4 parking lot and a 3 second glance at a lighthouse that I didnt even enjoy because Jeremy and my truck ruined it for me. He was upset about the truck and he didnt want to go anyways, and then everything just went to hell in a hand basket and left me wishing we had never gone. It turns out the thermostat was bad on the truck. Jeremy changed it and she runs like a dream again. But that trip will definitely go down as a waste of a beautiful beach day. The rest of the week we spent shopping because of the weather.

Things suck right now anyways because we have already been gone a week and now we have no power. This is the 2nd night at my parents. Jeremy is stressing and Lucas is sick. I just want to do my vacation all over again without the entrance of Ernesto.

Oh, and Lorelei and Amber, I cant post comments to your blog until you update to beta blogger. So, I am glad you enjoyed the lake Lorelei, and Amber, I remember back to school days well!

What's My Age Again?

I have been reading other people's posts on their blogs, and they are all reflecting on lifes journies and what made them who they are today. So, I decided that since 2 of my friends shared some of their inner most private stories, that I would talk a little bit about my background. Just understand, that its not that interesting!

For starters, I grew up in a much different setting then my husband did. He grew up in a more city setting with close neighborhoods and lots of friends. He did some things that hes not real proud of, but we arent here to talk about him, now, are we? I grew up in a little town, where I still live, that is sort of backwood's country. At least it used to be. Now we have all these city people moving in and they are bringing their attitudes and rudeness with them. But, for the most part, Gloucester kind of embodies the southern/waterman personality. Do not associate me with Guinea. That is a country of it's own. I dont even travel into Guinea. They are their own little community. I live further north. Where there are country stores where you can get barbeque and chips for supper and a good cup of coffe for $1.
Everything was fine until around 99 and my father started to get really sick. All of the time. The doctors diagnosed him with different things, but it turned out that he has alpha1antitrypsinimmunodeficeincy disease. Thats a pretty big thing for a 15 year old to know about. And that was just when he was diagnosed. He hadn't worked for 2 years. So there was no money coming in from him. Just Mama. Well, we weren't making it. So, I got a job as soon as I could, and I would deposit money in her checking account every 2 weeks. Before that, I used my babysitting money to buy groceries. Don't get me wrong, we got what we needed, but not a lot of extras. I worked as many hours as I could and still went to school. I didnt get to hang out with my friends very much. Where my co-workers were my age and going to movies and buying cd's, I was worried about the power and the mortgage. I helped raise my sister because Mama worked and Daddy was sick a lot. I cooked, I cleaned, I took care of him, I helped her with her homework. We went to court a lot and fought the shipyard where he worked because they made his disease so much more than it would have ever had been because they didnt provide the proper safety equipment men like Daddy needed. My grandfather worked in the same shipyard, and my uncle works there also. Papaw died of emphysema and asbestosis, never smoked a day in his life. I used to go and hock Mama's jewelry and cry after I did it because I knew what a sacrifice it was for her. In the end, all she had was her wedding set. But she never let me see her cry. We lost our case twice and everytime it was so devestating. In 2001, a friend of mine, Jeremys and Charlies committed suicide. And I felt so guilty. And the most heartbreaking part, was her 8 year old sister Kylie asking me if Christine didnt love them anymore. It was hard enough to deal with that pain, but all I could say through my own tears was no baby, no, she loved you, she just didnt love herself enough. Even today, 6 years later, I still am haunting by those little blues eyes, with tears pouring out of them. I havent talked to her Mom since she left. I still carry the guilt. I always will. In 2002, I was in a horrific car accident. I was t-boned, and my car looked like a horse shoe. The guy hit the drivers side of my car so hard that he broke the passenger front seat, and crushed my seat completely around my body. My friend that was in the car, unhooked her seat belt and got out the back door thats how jacked up the car was. I couldnt get out, I was trapped. There was smoke and gas everywhere. I had glass in my thigh, I stupidly reached down and yanked that out, so I was bleeding. My friends face was cut, so she was bleeding pretty bad, and it was all over her, all over me, we didnt know who was hurt. I had been stabbed in the abdomen by God only knows what. It was 2 little holes that looked like a snake bite. I still have the scar right below my belly button. I couldnt feel my legs. Mama had just had surgery and my Dad and sister were at the store for her, and I called her and told her I had been in an accident. The rescue squad had to break the seat to get me out. I still couldnt feel my legs. It turned out I broke my pelvis on both sides. I couldn't walk. If you can't walk you cant work. I can't work, we have no money. Well, I had the ct scans and everything, had a little internal bleeding, but was for the most part ok. They wanted to admit me to the hospital, and I refused. We couldnt pay that bill. So, I went home, against their advice, and laid in the pull out bed of the couch. I had to pee in a bucket off of the edge of the bed, because I could slide myself to the foot of the bed. After about a week, when the bones didnt grind together everytime I moved, I instructed Daddy to get me a computer chair. And I would slide onto it from the bed and pull myself through the house. I could slide on to the toilet at that point. I could lower myself into the bath tub. 2 weeks after the accident, I had to get up on crutches and basically learn to walk again by myself. I didnt do it when anyone was home because they pushed me and expected too much. Daddy was going to a job counseling center to see if they could find him something, anything, to do. They couldnt. No one wants to hire a terminally ill man. I made myself get stronger everyday, and I went back to work. That was in March, in May, Daddy called me at work and told me that the judge had ruled in his favor. We won. I remember falling on the floor because my legs gave out. I fought so hard all those years, and now, it had paid off. But I felt so much older then 19.

But all of that got me where I am now. I met Jeremy, got married, have a beautiful baby, and Daddy is holding steady at 97% lung capacity. And I still take care of him. Old habits are hard to break. But in the end, I know I wont and dont have any regrets. Everything happened for a reason. Even if it didnt seem good at the time, most of the events made all of us closer. I wouldnt change a thing.

My Little Sponge

I have to tell you that I have noticed that Lucas is becoming more aware of things. It's almost overwhelming to see him looking at everything, taking everything in. And now he's starting to grab things: the pretzal my Mom was eating, the ink pen I was writing with, anything he can close his fingers around. (Note to self: Do not allow him near ANY utensils...) Sometimes I wonder if he is trying to destroy his sweet little face. I have already made it a point that he gets to hold nothing that has tiny pieces that he can rip off with his mean little hands and swallow. Pretty soon, he'll be crawling. Hes trying to roll over completely. I have to tell you, having a baby is good for the old ego. He can be crying and fussing, and all I have to do is take him from whoever has him, and he buries his face in my neck, grabs my hair and calms down. It makes me feel good. And breastfeeding really is a bonding time for a mother and her child. We sit in the living room, and we just look at eachother, and I talk to him. I tell him all kinds of things. It'll be nice when hes old enough to respond and understand what I mean.

While things are good with Lucas, I almost can't say the same for Jeremy and I. Thats one thing about us: we love passionately and we fight just as passionately. And unfortunately, there seems to be an issue with our well defined roles. Before Lucas, we each did what we did. We each did whatever had to be done, and for the most part, we worked as a team to get it done. Since Lucas was born, those roles have become undefined. And right now, its more like survival then it is team work. And it isn't pleasant. Sometimes, I feel like we go around in circles and never come to a conclusion. He can't see past his sacrifices. I can't see past the fact that he doesnt recognize how difficult it is to be responsible for another person every morning. If you are a Mom, you understand. We are predominantly the ones who take the kids to the babysitter and pick the kids up. This is double time for me because I work an hour and fifteen minutes from where I live. One of my babysitters lives in Poquoson, which is 20 minutes from where I work and 45 minutes from my house. He goes there 2 days a week. It's tiring. Especially when you leave home at 6:30 in the morning, and dont get home until 7. Its like a tug of war. And its ridiculous. So, we start to get snippy, and then it turns into an out and out fight that ends with Lucas hysterical, me in tears, and Jeremy spinning in a new dimension of pissed off that I have never seen before. Deep down, I know its all the stress, but also in my secret heart, I wish it didnt have to be that way. He asked me Sunday night if I had stopped loving him. Stopped loving him? Do you ever stop loving someone? How does that happen? How can you just stop loving someone? How can you just not care anymore? Because its not easy for me. I dont think I would ever stop loving him. I am smart enough to know that you can love someone, you just cant be with them, and that isnt even our situation. I cant even define us sometimes: its like we are friends, lovers, enemies, and partners all jumbled in to one big bubble, and who knows what the outcome actually is. Its insane. We say stupid things to eachother. Things that hurt. But then on the flip side of it, we can say some of the most romantic and lovely things to eachother.

I am looking forward to a week on the beach. We started to fall for eachother while we were at the beach. It just has this magic about it: so much power, and beauty, its to the ground what the stars are to the nights sky. I know, I am so silly. Hes mad at me, and I am writing about how much I love him.

Friday...

What in the hell is going on around here? I was sick last week, and this week, my sinuses decide to act up. Thats 2 weeks of crappy feelings and I am sick of being sick!

Work absolutely sucks. The attitudes from some people stink. And I can't even pump without 50 interruptions. And for the most part, I dont mind. There are only three people that respect my privacy. 2 K's and an A. Everyone else, just knocks and barges in. No matter that my breast is exposed. And if thats not bad enough, they dont even bother to shut the door all the way. I dont know what to do about it. If I pump in the conference room, I still wont get any peace. For the most part, I am covered, but its still awkward when you have an 80 something year old man standing in the office. I just had to vent about that.

Lucas is good. Ask him and he will tell you. Did I ever tell you how hard it is to be a parent? Oh, I didn't? Let me tell you now: Parenting is hard. I have discovered that things that I used to be able to do in record time, now take me twice as long. Number 1 because I want to be playing with Lucas. Number 2 I am just so tired anymore. And its ridiculous. Lucas has slept through the night since I brought him home from the hospital. I can nurse him anywhere from 10 to 11 at night, he will sleep until 8 if I let him. But I just have no energy. Its like, I sit down to nurse him, and he sucks the life right out me. Its insane. He laughs now. He thinks everything is funny. He sits in his bouncer seat and goes "heeeh-heeeh" its so cute. And if you go "A-BOO" to him, he gets that real deep belly laugh. Its great. He plays with his feet too. But he has this terrible habit of pinching. I told you my sinuses were acting up, so my face was a little swollen the other night, I swear there was a leperachaun in there beating me with his sheleily stick. And Lucas reaches up and pinches the snot out of my face. And not only did it hurt, but because I didnt feel well, it almost catapaulted me into heart attack country. I had to give him to Jeremy. I just wasnt up for being a Mama that night. And thats the other thing. Jeremy does most of the stuff now while I tend to the baby. I feel guilty. Although I know I shouldnt. I drop Lucas off at the designated baby sitter and pick him up during the week. I do the grocery shopping. I take care of him when we are home. So what if he cooks and does the dishes? I sit at work and think about all of the things I need to get done at home. I think about all that I need to get done at work when I am home. Its insane. I worry that Lucas isnt getting enough tummy time. He hasnt rolled over yet. I guess all of these anxieties will eventually fade. Right?

What is up with swimwear?

I am trying to decide whether we are at that point in the season where things are pretty much picked over, or if swimsuit companies are trying to send out a message that if you are anything bigger then a 12, you dont belong in a bathing suit. Yesterday was the most depressing day I have had since Lucas was born. Don't get me wrong: I had a few days after he was born where I would just stand in the shower and sob, but it passed. This was an all out depressing situation. I went on the search for a bathing suit, because since I am nursing, my bathing suit from last year, well, lets just say, my cups runneth over. I go to hecht's so that I can use my Macys card. Nothing. It was either size 8 or size 22W. By the time I left there, I was feeling a little low. I know, I just had a baby 3 months ago. But I cant help it. I am leaving for vacation next Saturday. The thought of getting into a swimsuit makes me sick.

Lucas is great. God love him, he woke up this morning all grins and smiles, and it nearly broke my heart to leave him. I never realized that being a parent was so wonderful. Even on bad days, its wonderful. I can't believe that this time last year, I was sitting in the bathroom, waiting for the answer on the little white stick. I can't believe that at first I felt utter panic when I saw the plus sign. And dread, as the plus became more pronounced. There I was, sitting on the edge of the tub, by myself, holding the answer in my hands, trying to figure out how to tell Jeremy. But then suddenly, I remember feeling elated joy. I was pregnant. There was a baby growing in there. Who cared what anyone else thought? I was having a baby. I already knew it was a boy. I just knew it. I remember when I was driving to work, and felt him kick me for the first time. It was awesome. So, everytime I feel down about myself, I am going to think about all of that, and feel good all over again.

I am looking forward to my vacation. I need to get away from all of the stress of my life. Chaos follows me everywhere, I swear! I am looking forward to the beach, nights out on the balcony. Nights in the pool. Nights up late playing cards...too bad its only a week!

Wow...its Friday.

Its Friday. And dont get me wrong, I am excited because tomorrow morning I will get a little snuggle time with Lucas. But not much. I have to get my hair trimmed at 10, then I have to get home, clean the house, make Jeremys birthday dessert and then go help my mother-in-law get my brother-in-law moved out. So, its looking like I am going to be pretty busy. Whew!

Lucas grows more and more everyday. I just wish that I could keep him this age. This is the perfect age. Where its a clean slate, and they dont know that there are evil people in the world. Before I was a mother, I was more understanding to things. You know, I would be like, "well, look at this way..." Now, I am like, "Flush 'em and feed 'em catfish heads" or, "No, he isnt misunderstood. Hes an asshole." I guess as you get older you realize more about whats going in the world around you. And most of it sucks. I know that seems pessimistic, but its the truth. At least right now, hes learning things for the first time. He really is a beautiful, sweet boy. I am sure that will all change when he gets older and becomes his own little man.

Jeremy is great. Working so much I hardly see him, but great.

I have no energy, can you tell? No clever antics, no clever posts. Maybe Monday will be better.

Frumpy and fearless!

All I can say is that its a good dag on thing that no one looks at me anymore! I am so frumpy and terrible looking that I should placed in a cedar closet for the rest of the season. I am still carrying around baby weight-on top of the weight I was carrying when I got pregnant- and I am still wearing maternity clothes. Lets just say that my grooming experiences are way less than exemplary and include and are usually limited to, combing my hair, brushing my teeth, plucking my eye brows. Thats about it.

I can't do it. I just can't do it. I can't be like that woman on the Nutrisystem commercial who had a baby, and went from a size 10 to a size 4 again, can bring home the bacon, and cook it, and take care of the baby and give her man a good lovin'. I can't do it. But I will tell you what I can do: I can keep my son alive, fed, clean and for the most part entertained, as well as go to work and try to keep the house clean. But thats it! I can not do one more single thing. The house has reached such epic messy proportions that I feel like I will never win this rat race. If you come to my house and see dog hair on the couch, and the end table is not dusted, well, I am sorry. I just cant get anything done. Lucas is a precious, darling, sweet baby....but the little hellion only sleeps for like a half an hour. And usually, the second I set him down in bassinet, he'll wake up. Or I'll just be filling the sink up with water to wash dishes and he'll let out the first wail. I wait. He lets out another wail. I get to him and realize he has spit out his pacifier. I give back, and rub his head until he falls back asleep. I go back to the sink and turn off the water thats about to overflow. He wails again. I go back. He pulled the pacifier out. (you would think since hes smart enough to yank it out he could put it back in, but no!) I give him the pacifier back. He spits it out. I put it back. He spits it out. Now, hes laughing. This is a fun game. And I am seriously lecturing him. Then, I realize this is just another lesson in futility and I pick him up and we start over. I doubt I will ever see the bottom of the sink some days.

But, despite my craziness, I always manage to have Lucas looking wonderful: hes clean, and in a cute outfit. However, I look like death half defrosted from the deep depth of hell, with spit up on my shirt and nasty feeling teeth because in the hustle I forgot to brush them. I have also discovered that waking him up in the morning when I am ready to nurse him instead of waking him up before I am completely ready to walk out of the door is much easier. It keeps me from having my if-he-cries-for-one-more-second-I-am-jumping-out-the-window freak outs. But when I take him out, I never realized there were so many baby blanket patrols out there. And they will not rest until every bit of soft skin is covered. Hes a hot and sweaty baby, people! Leave me alone! Its summertime! Can he stay uncovered already? I never knew there was a worldwide conspiracy of concerned citizens against blanketless babies. Usually, by the time I get where I am going, hes cooing and watching everything going on around him that I forget all about them. I just promise myself that when I am older, I wont be that way. Yeah, right!

13 weeks and I want to stop counting!

Little Lucas is 13 weeks now, and it seems like just yesterday I was sitting here blogging and wishing he were born already. I wish time would just stand still for just a while so that I can continue to enjoy all of him, just like he is now. Its like that song, Chasing Cars by Snow Patrol...I just want to lay there and forget the world. Its amazing to see him see things for the very first time. His ocean blue eyes just light up and he grins that beautiful one dimple grin. Hes just beautiful. Heres a picture of him I had taken a week ago:
https://www.searsphotos.com/dep_order_portraits.asp?tag=98E36A1D83FE494E915B009155E092413EAFDA47B45148BF9D3591EA33307D6D&ImageIndex=2&state=&sessimgid={48A49476-659B-469D-9D39-18FDB1F0C458} Unfortunately, it wont allow me to paste the actual picture here. And its wonderful when I take him with me places and people tell me how cute and handsome he is! I like to tell him how cute he is..."Mama thinks you are so cute! Yes you are...." and "Can Mama steal your sugars, Butter?" Can Mama steal your sugars? Yes, I will admit, my son has turned me into a blubbering idiot! Even Jeremy joins the game. "Daddy? Have you ever seen such a handsome feller?" and he responds, "Nope, not as cute as wittle Wuke." And so the games go on and on.

My cousin Jessie who happens to be Lucas' 2nd cousin, loves Lucas. She stands there, with her curly hair in pig tails, her chubby legs close together, a big smile on her cherub cheeks and puts her little hand on her chest and says: "Baby Lucas is my best fwiend." Its so adorable. I get there to pick him up from Nany's (my grandmother, Lucas' great grandmother.) and Jessie runs to him and says, "Here her is. Di, heres Baby Lucas. Heres my best fwiend." And I correct her: "here HE is." and she responds with "Here her is. Her is a boy. I am a girl." She still hasnt mastered the he/she him/her thing. Then she proceeds to kiss him: "I take her pacifier and kiss her lips." or, "I love her foots." or "His head is so soft, and hes so cooooootttteeee!!!!" or he lets out a fuss and shes right there: "Whats wrong squirt??" I wonder who taught her that?? She was telling me yesterday how excited she is that Baby Lucas is going to the beach with her. I am sure hes excited with her. I will never pry her lips from him now! But it really is sweet that she loves him so much. Shes not jealous a bit. She wants to hold him, buckle him in his seat, kiss 50 times goodbye, tells him she'll miss him while hes gone. And she will see him later. Or, shes standing in my way telling me if I take her baby Lucas she will have Pop-Pop spank my butt. Its hysterical. Shes a character all right. And I just wonder how much longer she will keep wanting to kiss her cousin Lucas. Should I be concerned about that? Does it count as "kissing cousins?"

Falling In Love...with a short, bald man!

I never really actually knew a baby before. I mean, sure I had my cousins to hold and kiss and talk to, but its not the same as your own baby. Its different when its the child you carried and loved and nurtured for ten months. (Nine months is just a myth!) Theres something intoxicating about Lucas...his beautiful, flawless pale skin. Its so creamy in color that you can see the veins in his temple sometimes. And his eyes are just as blue as that beautiful water at the Pensione Teresa. Theres the black pupil and then it explodes into this crystal blue and ends with a darker blue. He has his daddy's eyes. And hes starting to develop his personality more. Hes slowly headed towards his own Lucashood instead of remaining the baby I gave birth to.

Sometimes, I just lay him on the bed on his back and I lay next to him, admiring the way his hands move, the way he stretches his feet out on the wellington comforter, almost in ecstatic joy that it feels so nice against his feet. I fall deeper in love with him when he smiles and coos and shakes his fist as if to say " You go Mama! Thanks for giving me life!" Or I rub his head which is so soft. Jeremy talks to him and calls him "my little Wuke." Its so cute. We both are just amazed at him and all of his glory. Surely, this is the best that life can get. Sometimes, I am so happy I could almost explode with the joy.

This isnt the first time I have fallen in love with a blue eyed man. Only, it took me a little longer with Jeremy. I had always been friends with him. But it wasnt until one night at a high school dance that he went to with me on a dare that I think it hit me that maybe he meant more to me. One of our friends had shoved me into him and shouted that he should dance with me because thats what he wanted anyways. And she literally slammed me into him and before I knew what was happening. So, if he hadnt grabbed ahold of me, I would have fallen. I was dancing with someone else. Next thing I know, I am in Jeremys arms. And we just looked at eachother. And I think then I had an inkling that he had feelings for me. But I ignored them. Looking back, I realize that I did like him, and I danced and flirted and went out with other guys just to make him jealous. I think it was a subconcious thing, actually. I dont remember saying to myself, "If I go to the movies with you, or let you walk me to class, Jeremy will get jealous and notice me." Many afternoons did I wish he would just confess. But he didnt. Not until he moved away and then we talked on the phone by pure chance that I just told him if he liked me, he needed to just say it. I was pretty damn tired of playing games with guys who didnt like the rules I created. And he admitted it. And we have been together ever since.

But it took just minutes for me to fall in love with Lucas. And it started as an infatuation with him when I saw the most perfect profile shot of him. When I was in labor, I was excited with the anticipation of getting to meet him. And when they pulled him out of me and layed him on my chest, and he looked at me, I couldnt contain the instantaneous feeling of love when I looked into his open eyes. That did it for me. He was a beautiful color. His skin was pink and warm, and his head was shaped perfect (he wasnt in the birth canal long enough to mishape his head...only 7 minutes!) and he had all of his fingers and toes. And when they took him and placed him in the warmer and Jeremy told him he was going to be a little heartbreaker, I was a goner.

So, now, as he embarks on becoming 3 months old, we communicate in ways that are hard to explain to other people. I talk and he makes faces at me. A smile says he agrees, and an angry face says I have gone too far and overstepped my bounds on his own opinion of things. I lay him on a blanket and ask him if hes good, and he coos "I good." Yes, yes, little feller, you are good! But I am still worried about things...he doesnt grasp toys everytime. I say something to Jeremy, like " Look, honey, right here, it says right here that he should be grasping toys to put in his mouth." I dangle the keys and wait for him to grasp and he never does. Jeremy says that I should be patient, that Lucas is on his own timetable, and the book is just a timeline. No, no, NO! Theres something wrong, I panic. But then he grabs the toy and everything is okay. Then, this morning, while driving him to Nany's, I saw a mailbox bashed in, and I started to wonder, what if Lucas meets kids that talk him into doing such terrible things? How would I handle that? Beat him until he is sufficiently respectful? Beat all of his friends? And I start to think to myself, hes so much safer inside the womb, at this age, right now. Where I am responsible for what he does and doesnt do. And every other worry that has dissipated is replaced with 3 new worries. Does it ever get better?
I guess, all I can do is wait...and hope that he understands everything I want him to.

Mama Meltdown!

So, its been a difficult week in the world of mama-hood. I think Lucas must be going through some kind of growth spurt (he is almost 3 months!), either that, or hes trying to kill me. Because hes been super duper, absolutely grumpy and whiny, and just plain miserable. Which isn't like my son. We are talking about a boy who was born without crying...a few whimpers and that was it. I had a failsafe method of putting him to sleep, and it worked everytime. I would sit down on the couch, lean against the pillows and nurse him. Then I would just watch and wait as his eyes rolled into the back of his head, and he sucked himself into pure oblivion. Then, with exquisite slowness, I would remove my nipple from his tiny, perfect lips, ease it back into the nursing bra, and cradle his head, and with the silent precision of a ninja, I would carry him to his bassinet, where he would sleep through the night. Its almost like that game operation...well, guess what?? I sucked at that game, and I suck at this game too! No sooner do I lay him down and begin to sneak away, Secret Agent Lucas senses my move of abandonedment with his super Spidey sense and turns on the screams. Damnit. Now, its going to be at least another 15 minutes of pure dedicated sucking to even get him to the point where he'll be back to sleep. His face is so cute and so tender and my back hurts so bad!

After a few days of this, I am understandably a little on edge. Which is why I had the meltdown. Lucas is crying for no apparent reason that I can figure out, I am left to get the dog in the kennel, get the diaper bag, get the bag of bottles, bottle warmer and formula just in case the breast milk isnt enough, my lunch bag, my bag with my breast pump paraphenalia, and my purse, and somewhere, I have to find a hand to carry Lucas in his seat and lock the door, so that I can get the hell out of the damned house and get to work, all while operating on 4 hours of sleep. So, when I tripped over the diaper bag strap, that was it for me. I threw my shoe, and ended up yelling something like..." I have got to get to work, and all of you animals arent helping, and Lucas, all you want to do is cry and cry and cry and freaking cry, and I am so tired, and where the hell is your father???!!!!" And Lucas stopped crying, the dog and cats slunk out of the room, and I sat down, wondering if I look like a crazy mother. I love Lucas, and I will never, ever, hurt him, but there days when he drives me so crazy with the lack of sleep and endless crying, that I can't soothe with breasts or hugs, that in my secret heart I want to lay him down in his jumper chair and run far, far away. And then 20 minutes later he's looking at me with his gurgliest darling baby smile, and I hate myself for not being grateful for him every second.
But no one said being a parent was easy. I know it, you know it. It's just that the joy and agony and worry are all mixed up in this crazy way I can't even make sense of. I feel like my heart is outside of my body. It's almost unbearable. Does it ever get better? Will I spend the rest of my life wishing he were still in the womb, where I can take care of him and I am responsible for his well being? Who knew I could be so in love with another man that wasnt my husband...

Monday...

I thought about breaking into song, but thought better of it!

I went this weekend and got pictures of Lucas taken. I will post the link on here as soon as I can. He did so good, and looked so cute. It feels so nice to have such a good son. I guess I should say blessed as opposed to nice. I really am blessed to have a healthy, beautiful son. And who knew I could love someone so much. It really does take your breath away to realize that you carried and gave life to such a sweet angel. And it breaks my heart that some people can abuse children.

I do think that I had a lot of ideals when I was pregnant. I was a little disgruntled when jeremy didnt seem too interested in my pregnancy. And he went to every doctors appointment with me. I guess I expected him to be interested in feeling Lucas kick and things like that. I think there are just romantic illusions. But, one morning after I had Lucas and we were home, I woke up early and Jeremy had Lucas in the bed with us. And we were all three tucked into bed in the shadows and it was the most peaceful feeling I had had in such a long time. It was like the first time I slept with Jeremy. I know it seems like I am romanticizing this, but I am not.

Things are better between me and Jeremy. We seem to be back to our usual joking selves. I am a little worried about his health. He got sick last night and then was fine. I am just really worried. He acts like its no big deal, but it scares me. I think he should get it checked out. But hes so stubborn and hardheaded it isnt even funny.

Gosh, I wish it were 5 o'clock. I am so hungry I feel like I could eat the south end of a north bound jackass!

Well, I have to invoice so that I can pump...

Someone had a bad day!

I hate it when Jeremy has a bad day and all I can do is laugh about it!

Yesterday was just a rough day all around. Lucas had to get his first set of 5 baby shots yesterday. I put the LMX4 medicine on his thighs so that they would be numb, and covered them with the tegaderm bandages, but he still felt one of the shots, and it broke my heart when he started crying. Even now, my eyes well up with tears just thinking about it. But hes 11lbs, 1oz, 22½" long and his head is 39¼ cm in circumference. Hes healthy as he should be. I gave him tylenol before the shots and afterward, so hopefully, he didnt feel too much discomfort. Some people would say I am spoiling him or making him a sissy. But I dont see it that way. No one should have to feel pain that isn't necessary, kids especially. And this way, he wont have a fear of the doctor when he gets older. And right now, all I can do is love him. You cant spoil a 2 month old baby. All you can do is love them.

Now, on to Jeremy's saga...He is so silly! He had a trailer tire blow up in his face yesterday. So, about 70 pounds of pressure and tire pieces were in his skin. He has road burn on his neck, and his face is swollen. Last night, Mama, Daddy, Jenn and Charlie came over and we made enchiladas for dinner. Well, Jeremy and Charlie were in our bedroom watching something on the tv back there because I was watching Madagascar. Jeremy must have been rushing out of our room, and he stubbed his toe. So, hes hopping on his left foot, holding his right foot. He steps in poop. Oh, yes. Maverick still isnt completely housebroken yet, and he still has accidents. And Jeremy found it. What are the odds? So, now, he is hopping on his hurt foot and cussing up a storm. I go in there and I ask him what the problem is, because hes like " @#$%! *&^! @^$#*^#($^*#(^$#($^#Q(*$^(*" So, I ask him why is he yelling at me? What does he want me to do about it? And he yells that he wants me to help him get the sh*t off of his foot, literally. So, my Mom tries to help him, and that just makes him even more angry. So, he snatches the paper towel from her and tries to do it himself with no luck. He is sitting on the edge of the bath tub with his jean yanked up to his upper thigh, washing his foot, muttering about dinner burning. Throughout his tantrum, my Dad has his hands over Lucas' ears, telling him "hear no evil, poot, hear no evil." So, jeremys opinion of this whole situation is that he has had a shitty day. First the tire explodes in his face, then he stubs his toe, then he steps in poop, and then we all laugh at him. Later on that night, he took a shower, and I was picking the tire ply out of his skin, and that was painful. So, he gets done and we were talking about how sore the road burn was on his neck. I get this idea that I will spray it with the dermoplast that the hospital sent home for me after I had Lucas. It will work. So, I spray it, and of course, he keeps talking. The mist lands in his mouth, and his tongue is numb. So, now, he had a tire blow up in his face, he stepped in shit, no one appreciates him, and his tongue is numb. I am starting to this that maybe he should stay in bed some days.

Well, I have some submittals to do...before I leave for my appointment. I finish the accounting so quickly now, and Debbie has created some great procedures that make it go easier. Wish me luck!

Friday, Friday, Friday

Things havent been easy this week. My marriage seems to be in a rough spot, and I think I just reached the breaking point. Why do things have to change? I mean, I know that they can change for the better, but sometimes they dont. And it isnt fair. Especially when you love someone so much and you feel like you just cant make them happy no matter what you do. Its insane. And its heartbreaking. So, then you find yourself wondering, what can I do? You walk around with this turmoil inside, asking yourself do I stay? Do I go? If I go do you care? Its so hard. But we seem to be working through them. I hope anyways. But I know that we cant help feeling differently, but I love him, and I cant help that this is who I am, and I cant just go and turn off how I feel. I dont know. I get to stay and fight this battle.

Work is going good. I am helping a co-worker, and it seems to make things better for her, and thats great. Plus, its keeping my mind off of other things because I actually have to think about what I am doing when I do her things. I dont get to go into auto-pilot like I do with my work, where its second nature and I could do it in my sleep.

Well, I am going to go. I have manicure I dont want to be late for.

Into my second week of work...

"Spider, Spider on the wall, have you no sense at all? Can't you see the wall has just been plastered? So, get the hell off of it, you slimy bastard!" ....my Dad's new song to his arch nemesis! I just thought I would share it because it made me laugh! Poor Spider. He doesnt have the guts to do that again...literally.

Anyways, Lucas just threw up all over me, which is not nice or pleasant. I am not happy that he did that. Maverick, aka: BRATIMUS, jumped on him, and the next thing I know, I am covered in projectile vomit. What a wonderful treat.
And let me tell you what Jeremy did: He ate almost all of my favorite ice cream bars because he was hot. Hasn't the man ever heard of "cold shower"??? I guess not.

Work is going fine. A little easier then I thought it would be. But its still hard. I am missing smiles, and laughs and giggles, and kisses. Is this child going to grow up without me? I hope not. I guess all mothers go through this. But it really hurts when I think about all that I am missing and am going to miss. I know at the end of the day, I am still his mother, and I hope that the end justifies the pain it took to get me there. Until then, I will cherish whatever time we have together. I am excited to be back at work. I missed the craziness. And thats what its about...the craziness. But its so much nicer and so much more fun now. I suppose you just need the right person to be there to make things great. And I think Debbie is that person. And I am excited that theres a possibility I can help out with customers too. I love working with customers. And if at all possible, I would help Amber with her 5 million phone calls...so if you read this, Amber, make it a point to get with me, so we can chat about my helping you...on the down low please.

Well, my spaghetti sauce should be done now, so I am going to go and finish up dinner. Jeremy is passed out on percocet due to his tension headache that the doctor said is severe. He started to get up, so I hit him with it again...just kidding! (wink, wink)

Wow, My maternity leave is over...and I am MIA!

Where in the world did it go??? Have I really been out of work for a little over 2 months? Sadly, its over, all of it, over. I have to return to work. I have to leave Lucas and go to work. Getting up early is going to kill me! Right now, I am used to getting up and watching tv and laying around and all that fun stuff. Now, I have to nurse Lucas and get my butt ready for work and I am working under a time frame. That is going to suck!

Things seem to be going good. Money is so tight it squeaks right now, and I am a little nervous about going almost 2 weeks without any money coming through, but I am sure we will make it through. We always do. While I am venting, I am going to go on ahead and say what has been pissing me off since yesterday. I called the office and spoke with one of my co-workers. And she informed me that a previous co-worker, whose name I will not mention, came in looking for me. And seemed shocked that I wasnt there. This ex-co-worker proceeded to say that she has called me and emailed me numerous times. And just for the record, Jaba the Slut is LYING! AKA: Full of Crappola. She has called me ONCE, numero UNO, on my cellphone, and I'll admit it, I ignored her. Because I am royally pissed at her. She lied to me, she manipulated me and every other person who worked there, and even now, she wont relinquish whatever hold she has on the place. And I swear, if I have to hear her story or any other junk about how she was screwed over slash how badly they treated her slash how happy she is slash how I ignore her slash, I am going to slash my wrists! So, now that that is out in the open I can move on.

I was at the country store today getting my Dad's coffee when this guy starts talking to me. I dont know him, hes older, and I am not that interested in small talk. He asks me how my baby is. He knows I have a baby? Maybe hes been in there when I have had Lucas in there, I dont know. But I talked nice anyways, when what I really wanted to do was stop him before he dipped into his shallow pool of wit and paint him a picture that would save us both the trouble of any further small talk....he was going to remain on the bar stool next to the counter while I paid for my purchase and walked out the door to my truck. And he could pretend that he didnt receive the brush off and go home and make nice with himself, I dont care, but he better not fantasize about me, because even his fantasy of me isnt interested. I swear. Yep, now you know why Jeremy said he didnt want to wake sleeping bitchy this morning!

Well, the next entry I make will be from my desk at work...lets hope I make it there and I dont sleep through my first day back!

Wow...its been awhile since I blogged!

Wow....when was the last time I checked in with everyone?? Gosh, you lose track of time when you aren't at work. Days run together, nights run together, everything runs together.

I have discovered that there are sacrifices that must be made when you become a Mom. Whatever identity you had before the positive sign is gone. You aren't a sexy attractive wife anymore, you arent a professional business woman working her way to a better living...your Mom. Thats it. Just Mom. And I am one of those Mom's where I dont care that Lucas is screaming, I am taking a shower everyday, and I am not lounging around in puke stained clothes, and I have my hair clean and styled and makeup on. I dont care if the dog is the only one to see my effort. But I am slowly becoming my own version of a desparate housewife. Yep. I am desparately wanting to go back to work. How crazy is that?! I miss human contact, and with Jeremy working 2 jobs, hes never home now, and I keep my mouth shut because hes doing what he thinks is best for me and Lucas. I gained a baby and lost a husband. Such a bunch of caca if you ask me.Anyways.
Things are going good on the home front. Missy has her surgery tomorrow and I have to have her to the vets between 7 and 8. Holy crap! Compared to my usual getting up, thats early. Especially since Lucas keeps me up to around 3. I am excited though. I lost 25 pounds (am still fat.) when the doctor weighed me last Friday. I go back tomorrow to see if my stitches are healed. I doubt it. I feel like I still have a golf ball inbetween my legs. Kids hurt. Lucas definitely left a mark on me. And I would like to state that Mrs. Smith is a winch. Jaba the slut makes this awesome blackberry cobbler and I am addicted. I dont even care that it takes 50 minutes to cook. I am fine with waiting. I am surprised I lost ANY weight with that new addiction. (Just for the record, I am sure Mrs. Smith is a lovely woman who does not deserve my petty name calling, but its certainly not MY fault that I have NO will power, is it?)

Well, thats enough of my rambling, this is probably the most boring entry I have ever made...until tomorrow when I update about my appointment...I am going to go watch something on tv. And eat blackberry cobbler. With Hersheys vanilla ice cream...