I have an awesome husband. He works hard, he loves me and he adores our son. When I hear about other people’s horror stories of how their husbands behave, I consider myself a very lucky woman. However, despite the fact that I am blessed with a great and helpful husband doesn’t change the fact that he will never be able to do enough for me anymore. You see, there is no way that my husband can ever become the mommy.
When Josh gets sick and needs to be taken to the doctor, mommy takes off from work to go there. When Josh wakes up crying and needs to be consoled, mommy has to groggily get out of bed and comfort him back to sleep. Mommy packs her clothes and Josh’s clothes when we have to go away for a couple of hours or for a couple of days. Daddy gets to do the fun stuff. Daddy swings him up in the air, tickles him and makes him laugh, mommy changes poopie diapers.
I am utterly exhausted with being the mommy. I need a vacation from being the mommy. I want to have the energy to just enjoy my husband and my son but, the past couple of days, I just don’t. Husband is out of town on a business trip and so now, even the things he does to help, fall on my shoulders. I am in awe of single moms who do this every day. Faced with having to do it alone for 2 more days is making me anxious just thinking about it.
I dreamed of motherhood for many years, romanticized it. I never realized how much work it is! The spitting up, the crying, the gross bodily functions and that was just coming from me right after giving birth! Josh is generally affable, but he is still a baby. He cries, he gets fussy, he gets bored, he gets angry, sometimes all at once. Since he can’t tell me what’s wrong, I have to guess. Diaper clean? Check. Hungry? Nope. Tired? Ahhh, that’s it. Insert pacifier, soothe baby and hope he falls out soon.
There are times I think, can I do this again? I love Josh, but I hate being exhausted. I hate snapping at my husband and making him feel small and insignificant because I am frustrated and overwhelmed. I miss the days of being so affectionate with my spouse. Most days I am either too tired or too angry to muster up loving emotions.
I love my husband, he can crack me up with his corny sense of humor, even when I am so angry at him. I adore our son, his giggle gives me an emotional high that no chocolate has ever come close to equaling (and if you know me, that is saying A LOT). However, on those challenging days, I just feel like running away, being by myself and getting back to feeling like me. I so want to be able to be the loving wife and patient mother I dreamed of being when I fantasized about my future. I try and I try but I finally realized: no matter what I do, it will never be enough in my mind. However, when my husband steps in, with concern in his eyes because he knows I am wiped, I see he appreciates the hard work of balancing the roles of mommy & wife. When I give Josh kisses on his belly, as I change yet another dirty diaper, and he squeals in delight, I see, what I am doing as his mom is good enough for him. In the end, isn’t that what really matters?
Wednesday, June 18, 2008
Monday, June 16, 2008
Family Ties
I love my family, I really do, but there is no one else in the world that can mess you up as much as your family can.
If life were like the sitcoms I watched growing up, at the end of 30 minutes all my issues with siblings and parents would be resolved. (Unless it was a very special episode, then it would take 60 minutes to reach our resolution.) While I claim the absurdities in my life are a sitcom, my life is not a TV show. My parents are not the Keatons. My siblings and I are not Alex, Mallory, Jennifer, or the 4th kid who isn’t important enough to name since he was just brought in for the “cute” factor to liven up the series. (Didn’t work for me, anyone else?)
How do you talk to your parents about things that bother you without hurting them? As a new parent myself, I am now more sensitive to this. How would I want Josh to speak to me in 30 years if he had a problem? Heck, how would I want him to talk to me at any time in the future?
My husband and I talk a lot. We work through our issues. Sometimes he has to chase me out of the cave I run to hide in, but eventually, we always talk things out. I credit my husband with being the stronger one in this productive discussion department. He is our fearless captain in the choppy waters of marital strife. While all the conversations aren’t always pleasant, the open lines of communication are important and I am glad we have that in our marriage.
I am hopeful, that as Josh grows up he recognizes this about his parents. I hope he knows that although a conversation can be difficult, as long as he is open and honest with his feelings and communicates with us, our relationship as parent and child will only get stronger.
Back to my first question, after just spending father’s day with my whole family and having numerous issues that bothered me come up, how come I couldn’t have a discussion about it with my folks? Why can’t I speak with them in the way I hope Josh will feel comfortable speaking with us one day?
If the lyrics from Family Ties are true “There aint no nothing we can’t love each other through” I shouldn’t be frightened to talk it out with my parents. Unfortunately, as I said, my life is not a sitcom – more like a miniseries…and I never had the patience to watch those. They were way too long and too melodramatic.
If life were like the sitcoms I watched growing up, at the end of 30 minutes all my issues with siblings and parents would be resolved. (Unless it was a very special episode, then it would take 60 minutes to reach our resolution.) While I claim the absurdities in my life are a sitcom, my life is not a TV show. My parents are not the Keatons. My siblings and I are not Alex, Mallory, Jennifer, or the 4th kid who isn’t important enough to name since he was just brought in for the “cute” factor to liven up the series. (Didn’t work for me, anyone else?)
How do you talk to your parents about things that bother you without hurting them? As a new parent myself, I am now more sensitive to this. How would I want Josh to speak to me in 30 years if he had a problem? Heck, how would I want him to talk to me at any time in the future?
My husband and I talk a lot. We work through our issues. Sometimes he has to chase me out of the cave I run to hide in, but eventually, we always talk things out. I credit my husband with being the stronger one in this productive discussion department. He is our fearless captain in the choppy waters of marital strife. While all the conversations aren’t always pleasant, the open lines of communication are important and I am glad we have that in our marriage.
I am hopeful, that as Josh grows up he recognizes this about his parents. I hope he knows that although a conversation can be difficult, as long as he is open and honest with his feelings and communicates with us, our relationship as parent and child will only get stronger.
Back to my first question, after just spending father’s day with my whole family and having numerous issues that bothered me come up, how come I couldn’t have a discussion about it with my folks? Why can’t I speak with them in the way I hope Josh will feel comfortable speaking with us one day?
If the lyrics from Family Ties are true “There aint no nothing we can’t love each other through” I shouldn’t be frightened to talk it out with my parents. Unfortunately, as I said, my life is not a sitcom – more like a miniseries…and I never had the patience to watch those. They were way too long and too melodramatic.
Friday, June 13, 2008
My biggest fan
I think I have finally “made it.” I have my own blog groupies. The idea that someone is reading this blog on a regular basis thrills me, even though I know those groupies are my good friends.
Today, I was speaking with M. (M, now the next time we speak you can say “I read your blog and I saw the shout out to me…thanks for using an alias!”) M spouted back to me all the things she and our other friend, S, are reading about me in my blog. My struggles with Weight Watchers, my conflict over when to start trying for a second child, she knew it all. However, it got me to start wondering. If people are reading about my life, what do I have to say to them when we talk?
I am a born entertainer. I love to tell stories and to amuse people. At times, in my desire to disseminate these anecdotes to everyone, I mistakenly repeat them to the same person. If the story is good enough, they listen again, politely. However, with the more mundane ones they jump in and remind me that they have heard it already. Am I “shooting myself in the foot” with this blog? By sharing my anecdotes here, will people now jump in and say “Oh, I already read that in your blog,” when I try to relay a story?
The truth is, the groupies, are great but they can’t be the reason for my writing or not writing. Ultimately, whether anyone is listening or reading my stories, I need to do what I do because I enjoy it myself. Groupies are awesome, but the biggest fan of my stories lives in me. She never jumps in and says “I’ve heard it already.” She listens every time, and enjoys it as much as the first telling. However, I don’t always appreciate her as much as I do the groupies who read this blog. Unfortunately, while we can all be our own biggest fans we can also be our own worst enemies.
Today, I was speaking with M. (M, now the next time we speak you can say “I read your blog and I saw the shout out to me…thanks for using an alias!”) M spouted back to me all the things she and our other friend, S, are reading about me in my blog. My struggles with Weight Watchers, my conflict over when to start trying for a second child, she knew it all. However, it got me to start wondering. If people are reading about my life, what do I have to say to them when we talk?
I am a born entertainer. I love to tell stories and to amuse people. At times, in my desire to disseminate these anecdotes to everyone, I mistakenly repeat them to the same person. If the story is good enough, they listen again, politely. However, with the more mundane ones they jump in and remind me that they have heard it already. Am I “shooting myself in the foot” with this blog? By sharing my anecdotes here, will people now jump in and say “Oh, I already read that in your blog,” when I try to relay a story?
The truth is, the groupies, are great but they can’t be the reason for my writing or not writing. Ultimately, whether anyone is listening or reading my stories, I need to do what I do because I enjoy it myself. Groupies are awesome, but the biggest fan of my stories lives in me. She never jumps in and says “I’ve heard it already.” She listens every time, and enjoys it as much as the first telling. However, I don’t always appreciate her as much as I do the groupies who read this blog. Unfortunately, while we can all be our own biggest fans we can also be our own worst enemies.
Thursday, June 12, 2008
Walk and Kick
In the never ending battle between me and the scale, I have enlisted a new ally. At over a month of dieting and a net weight loss of 5 pounds, I knew it was time to call in the reinforcements. Today, I enlisted the help of Leslie Sansone of the Walk Away the Pounds videos.
My first video is called walk and kick. It is a combo of walking and kickboxing and today was my maiden voyage trying it. Know what I learned? I am really out of shape. A video like this one, would have been relatively easy for me before pregnancy. I had achieved a level of fitness that I was pretty proud of after years of inactivity. I continued exercising throughout my pregnancy but then stopped once Josh was born. In seven months of being sedentary, I have lost most of the hard work it took 5 long years to achieve.
While invigorated initially after the workout, I am now exhausted. Right now, a nap is even more appealing then a bowl of ice cream. Is that the point of exercise? Are you supposed to get so tired that you don’t have the energy to get up to grab a slice of cake? If yes, well I have achieved that goal. Leslie said that doing this tape would mean I wouldn’t suffer the 2PM “crash” people experience. She was right, I didn’t crash at 2 but, at a quarter to 4 I find my eyes getting droopy and my head feels heavy.
So now, I am going to walk over to the couch and kick up my legs for a well deserved catnap. Now THAT kind of walking and kicking, is the exercise routine I have perfected in the past seven months. As my feet hit the couch, I swear I heard the scale laughing.
My first video is called walk and kick. It is a combo of walking and kickboxing and today was my maiden voyage trying it. Know what I learned? I am really out of shape. A video like this one, would have been relatively easy for me before pregnancy. I had achieved a level of fitness that I was pretty proud of after years of inactivity. I continued exercising throughout my pregnancy but then stopped once Josh was born. In seven months of being sedentary, I have lost most of the hard work it took 5 long years to achieve.
While invigorated initially after the workout, I am now exhausted. Right now, a nap is even more appealing then a bowl of ice cream. Is that the point of exercise? Are you supposed to get so tired that you don’t have the energy to get up to grab a slice of cake? If yes, well I have achieved that goal. Leslie said that doing this tape would mean I wouldn’t suffer the 2PM “crash” people experience. She was right, I didn’t crash at 2 but, at a quarter to 4 I find my eyes getting droopy and my head feels heavy.
So now, I am going to walk over to the couch and kick up my legs for a well deserved catnap. Now THAT kind of walking and kicking, is the exercise routine I have perfected in the past seven months. As my feet hit the couch, I swear I heard the scale laughing.
Thursday, June 5, 2008
Feeling Stumped
Brain dumb.
Inspiration won’t come.
Poor ink.
Bum Pen.
Best Wishes.
Amen.
The above poem keeps running through my head. I had this book in elementary school that listed different creative ways to sign a yearbook and the prose above was one of the choices. What was it about that poem that stuck with me? How do some written words stay with you for life, while others disappear without a second thought.
Writing this blog is much harder than I thought. Each day I am challenged to come up with something mesmerizing, something fascinating for you guys to read. My life has its moments of excitement, but like most people, there are many ordinary days. You know those days. You get up, go to work, pick up some groceries on the way home, play with your kid(s), eat some dinner, go to bed and start the same routine over the next day.
I want to be the kind of author that my readers are eager to read. I want to inspire the kind of loyalty that we all have to specific favorite writers. You enjoy their work so much that you keep coming back for more. You have the intense desire to know what happens next and you can’t wait until you can read it. Would people be as devoted to Stephen King if he spent a page describing what his character had for lunch? (I had a pizza bagel today, just in case that kind of information does rock your world.)
I have racked my brain, stopped and started numerous ideas today, and nothing seems to work for me. So instead of some novel post, you are getting my poem called “Writer’s block.”
Woke up and felt like a fool.
Couldn’t write anything cool.
Made a lame attempt to create a rhyme
That you’d quote back, time after time.
Although I gave it the old college try.
It’s time to close this post and say good-bye.
What are the odds some of you will be quoting THAT stunning work of poetry 25 years from now? Then again, it’s amazing what stays with you. Twenty five years ago, I thought the poem I started this post with was just one of hundreds I read. I can’t quote you The Raven, but I can quote you Feeling Stumped. Guess there is hope for me as a writer yet.
Wednesday, June 4, 2008
To conceive or not to conceive? That is the question.
People warned me that, after having a baby, weight loss would be more difficult. Once again, I was extremely naïve and assumed it would not apply to me. I was wrong.
I have been disappointed with my progress on Weight Watchers. I assumed I could lose 25 pounds in three months like I did before I had Josh. It has been a month now and I am down a total of 7 pounds. Sounds great, right? Well, I lost 6 pounds the first week. I lost 2 pounds the second week. I lost 0 pounds in the third week and I gained 1 pound last week. That gives me a net loss of 7 pounds. At this rate, I’ll be back where I started in another two months!
What makes this struggle all the more stressful is that annoyingly loud, ticking biological clock. We want more kids and I am not getting any younger. I wanted to be at my “fighting weight” before starting to try for baby #2, but it feels unrealistic now. At this rate Josh will be married with his own kids before I can start on giving him a sibling, if I wait until I reach goal weight.
Dear Husband points out that, I was able to lose weight before and I will be able to do it again, whether it is before or after another baby. He has left the decision up to me as to when we start “trying” again. The core issue is, that I am worried about how long it will take to get pregnant again. If it happens right away, while a blessing, there goes the opportunity to drop some poundage. However, if I wait until after I lose weight, and it takes a long time to get pregnant again, will I kick myself for having waited so long?
See, this is where my need to have control, my being neurotic, comes into play. I want to know now what the right thing is here. I want some voice from heaven to proclaim the decision I should be making. There are always the voices in my head, but they can’t seem to agree here. The magic 8 ball has been no help either, it keeps telling me “reply hazy try again”- thanks for news flash there. I even resorted to flipping a quarter for the heads/tails option. I know you are not going to believe me but, it bounced on the floor and for the life of me I can’t find where it landed.
Since I am not getting any clear signs, for now, I am doing what I always do – procrastinating. I am putting of making the decision (which in essence means I am actually deciding to wait to try again). Each time I pop a birth control pill I agonize as to whether the decision is the right one. Each time I step on the scale, I feel like waiting isn’t such a bad thing. Each time I see a baby girl, I get misty eyed at the thought that I could have one myself, if I just tried. Each time I see a little girl stress about diet, I worry about the example I’d set for a daughter with my weight obsession and think it's a good idea to wait to conceive until I am more comfortable with my body.
The original quote I co-opted in my title, is from Hamlet. The phrase has been used and parodied by numerous people since the moment Shakespeare wrote it. The character of Hamlet is one I relate to, on the decision making level. Hamlet is unable to do, he is only able to be. He is incapable of making a difficult decision that he faces (though scholars debate what the nature of the decision was suicide or revenge). However, at the end of it all, what Hamlet believes in is “special providence”, a faith that God has the ability to sort out the messes in the world. That’s the same kind of faith I have too. Of course Hamlet is a tragedy, which ends with a huge bloodbath, so maybe he’s not the best example to choose for my indecisiveness.
Maybe I’ll just make the decision myself after all. I just need to go crawling around on the floor first, that quarter has got be here somewhere!
I have been disappointed with my progress on Weight Watchers. I assumed I could lose 25 pounds in three months like I did before I had Josh. It has been a month now and I am down a total of 7 pounds. Sounds great, right? Well, I lost 6 pounds the first week. I lost 2 pounds the second week. I lost 0 pounds in the third week and I gained 1 pound last week. That gives me a net loss of 7 pounds. At this rate, I’ll be back where I started in another two months!
What makes this struggle all the more stressful is that annoyingly loud, ticking biological clock. We want more kids and I am not getting any younger. I wanted to be at my “fighting weight” before starting to try for baby #2, but it feels unrealistic now. At this rate Josh will be married with his own kids before I can start on giving him a sibling, if I wait until I reach goal weight.
Dear Husband points out that, I was able to lose weight before and I will be able to do it again, whether it is before or after another baby. He has left the decision up to me as to when we start “trying” again. The core issue is, that I am worried about how long it will take to get pregnant again. If it happens right away, while a blessing, there goes the opportunity to drop some poundage. However, if I wait until after I lose weight, and it takes a long time to get pregnant again, will I kick myself for having waited so long?
See, this is where my need to have control, my being neurotic, comes into play. I want to know now what the right thing is here. I want some voice from heaven to proclaim the decision I should be making. There are always the voices in my head, but they can’t seem to agree here. The magic 8 ball has been no help either, it keeps telling me “reply hazy try again”- thanks for news flash there. I even resorted to flipping a quarter for the heads/tails option. I know you are not going to believe me but, it bounced on the floor and for the life of me I can’t find where it landed.
Since I am not getting any clear signs, for now, I am doing what I always do – procrastinating. I am putting of making the decision (which in essence means I am actually deciding to wait to try again). Each time I pop a birth control pill I agonize as to whether the decision is the right one. Each time I step on the scale, I feel like waiting isn’t such a bad thing. Each time I see a baby girl, I get misty eyed at the thought that I could have one myself, if I just tried. Each time I see a little girl stress about diet, I worry about the example I’d set for a daughter with my weight obsession and think it's a good idea to wait to conceive until I am more comfortable with my body.
The original quote I co-opted in my title, is from Hamlet. The phrase has been used and parodied by numerous people since the moment Shakespeare wrote it. The character of Hamlet is one I relate to, on the decision making level. Hamlet is unable to do, he is only able to be. He is incapable of making a difficult decision that he faces (though scholars debate what the nature of the decision was suicide or revenge). However, at the end of it all, what Hamlet believes in is “special providence”, a faith that God has the ability to sort out the messes in the world. That’s the same kind of faith I have too. Of course Hamlet is a tragedy, which ends with a huge bloodbath, so maybe he’s not the best example to choose for my indecisiveness.
Maybe I’ll just make the decision myself after all. I just need to go crawling around on the floor first, that quarter has got be here somewhere!
Monday, June 2, 2008
Spoiler Alert
I have no patience and I don’t like to be surprised. I have this insatiable need to know it all now. If there is a movie I want to see, and I know I may not get to go for a while, I read a movie spoiler. Sure, eventually I’ll see the movie too, but I need to be able to converse about it while it is still “hot.”
It is the same with books. I am one of maybe 5 people in the universe who has not read the Harry Potter series but I still HAD to know what was going on. So, while other voracious fans slept outside to be able to purchase a book at 12:01 AM, I went to bed. I logged on to some book spoiler sites first thing in the morning and discovered all the pertinent plot details that readers posted after spending all night finishing the book.
Which is all the more astounding that I actually waited 9 whole months to discover I was having a baby boy. With an ultrasound, I could have found out sooner but, you see, my husband is the anti-spoiler. Dear husband wanted to be surprised. He felt that there are such few things in life to be surprised about, why ruin this one? He told me I could find out if I wanted to, but I couldn’t share the information with him or anyone else. Was he kidding? What good was my discovering the information if I couldn’t share it? So, it wasn’t until the delivery room that I discovered that testosterone was going to outnumber estrogen in our home.
This weekend, I saw Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull (and, yes, I read the spoiler before going). In the movie is a character named Irina Spalko. SPOILER AHEAD -- DO NOT READ IF YOU DON’T WANT TO KNOW A PLOT DETAIL!!!!!
Irina, has an insatiable appetite for knowledge. She wants to be able to see and know everything. She feels that this knowledge will allow her to control everything. However, when she is given this knowledge, she can’t take it. The information is too much and she literally explodes. There’s probably a lesson there, but is too much knowledge really such a bad thing?
I feel like I am going to explode when I want to know something but for some reason I can’t. Whether it was searching for months for spoilers on the Sex and the City Movie and not finding them or not knowing if a friend is pregnant or not, I need to know. I hate feeling so out of control! I want to know how things are going to turn out before they happen. If I quit my job and stay at home, will that be a huge mistake? If I continue working and leave Josh in a babysitter’s hands, will I look back and regret that decision? How many children will I have? Will I win the lottery one day? Will I get breast cancer like my mom or diabetes like my dad? Will I EVER get back to my pre-pregnancy weight? Where can I find the spoilers for these questions?
I have told dear husband that next time I find out I am pregnant, I fully intend to find out what the sex of the baby is with the ultrasound no matter what he says, since the last time not knowing drove me so crazy. He shook his head, at the loon that is his wife, sighed, and said “Why don’t you just wait until you are pregnant again and see how you feel then?” This need of mine to know the answers without having to wait, without having to live through the experiences is overwhelming. Am I so obsessed with finding spoilers in my life that I am actually spoiling the enjoyment of the ride?
It is the same with books. I am one of maybe 5 people in the universe who has not read the Harry Potter series but I still HAD to know what was going on. So, while other voracious fans slept outside to be able to purchase a book at 12:01 AM, I went to bed. I logged on to some book spoiler sites first thing in the morning and discovered all the pertinent plot details that readers posted after spending all night finishing the book.
Which is all the more astounding that I actually waited 9 whole months to discover I was having a baby boy. With an ultrasound, I could have found out sooner but, you see, my husband is the anti-spoiler. Dear husband wanted to be surprised. He felt that there are such few things in life to be surprised about, why ruin this one? He told me I could find out if I wanted to, but I couldn’t share the information with him or anyone else. Was he kidding? What good was my discovering the information if I couldn’t share it? So, it wasn’t until the delivery room that I discovered that testosterone was going to outnumber estrogen in our home.
This weekend, I saw Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull (and, yes, I read the spoiler before going). In the movie is a character named Irina Spalko. SPOILER AHEAD -- DO NOT READ IF YOU DON’T WANT TO KNOW A PLOT DETAIL!!!!!
Irina, has an insatiable appetite for knowledge. She wants to be able to see and know everything. She feels that this knowledge will allow her to control everything. However, when she is given this knowledge, she can’t take it. The information is too much and she literally explodes. There’s probably a lesson there, but is too much knowledge really such a bad thing?
I feel like I am going to explode when I want to know something but for some reason I can’t. Whether it was searching for months for spoilers on the Sex and the City Movie and not finding them or not knowing if a friend is pregnant or not, I need to know. I hate feeling so out of control! I want to know how things are going to turn out before they happen. If I quit my job and stay at home, will that be a huge mistake? If I continue working and leave Josh in a babysitter’s hands, will I look back and regret that decision? How many children will I have? Will I win the lottery one day? Will I get breast cancer like my mom or diabetes like my dad? Will I EVER get back to my pre-pregnancy weight? Where can I find the spoilers for these questions?
I have told dear husband that next time I find out I am pregnant, I fully intend to find out what the sex of the baby is with the ultrasound no matter what he says, since the last time not knowing drove me so crazy. He shook his head, at the loon that is his wife, sighed, and said “Why don’t you just wait until you are pregnant again and see how you feel then?” This need of mine to know the answers without having to wait, without having to live through the experiences is overwhelming. Am I so obsessed with finding spoilers in my life that I am actually spoiling the enjoyment of the ride?
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
