Sorry, I've been MIA. I destroyed my laptop after tripping over the power cord in a sleepy stupor one morning....so I was forced to use my desktop, in which the keyboard has a broken space bar. But I finally got myself a new laptop last week, so I can bore you to tears again!!
This post was brought on by an argument that Rob, and I had the other night. He started whining about the fact that I don't make him a lunch for work. Now, we have jokingly discussed this before. But never in a serious way. When Rob, and I moved in together, before the kids, I not only got up with him to see him off to work at 4:30 in the morning, but I also made him his lunch everyday. At the time it was something that worked for us. We both worked, but I still made sure I did this. Things have changed...
I honestly cannot remember if I still made him a lunch after Ciena was born, it's possible. She was a pretty easy baby, and slept good at night, not to mention there was only one of her;) Now I will say, that Rob and I both discussed whether or not I should go back to work after Ciena was born. We decided TOGETHER, that as long as we could afford it, I would stay home with the kid(s). Early on in this arrangement things were not great. I was making next to nothing in regards to mat leave, and baby bonus. We went back and forth between having one vehicle, and 2. So usually, I was stuck at home, in the middle of nowhere with a baby. To say that I felt lonely, isolated, and sad is an understatement. I loved staying home with my daughter, but I hated how monotonous my days were. Everyday was groundhog day. Even if I did have a vehicle, I had no money to do anything.
Even if I did have a vehicle, I had no money to go out and do anything. At that time, even though it wasn't actually said out loud, Rob's money was very much "his money" I had to ask him for money for anything I wanted or needed, or if I wanted to have lunch with a friend. I felt like a child, and it was humiliating. Then he came up with this genius idea. He would give me an "allowance" of $100 a week. Now let me tell you, I realize now how disgusting, and disrespectful that sounds. I wasn't bringing in any money, but I was home with our daughter everyday. And if I could shake the shit out of my former self, I would. But back then, I was ecstatic!! "Yay, $100 of my very own!!" I really didn't understand when my friends were telling me how messed up that was. I get it now...
I'm not sure when things changed, or when I woke up? Maybe when Rob would refuse to give me his debit card to get groceries. He would give me cash(an amount he thought was reasonable) and away I would go. I had to use a calculator to make sure I didn't go over. Some would say that's smart, yes I'm sure it is....but only if it's my choice. Not because my husband didn't trust me with "his" bank account. Around the time I got pregnant with Joel, I also grew some balls. I told my husband that this was a partnership, and he wasn't treating me that way. After some long talks, he not only would let me use his debit card, he actually changed it into a joint account, and gave me my very own card. It only took 3 years.
Now, I'm sure I don't need to mention that having 2 kids, while not necessarily harder...is definitely more tiring. And Joel did.not.sleep. I'm talking like waking 6 times a night until he was 2. So I never made Rob's lunch. I was too tired from being up all night with a baby/toddler. But it was never an issue, until a week ago. Apparently all of his buddies at work feel bad for Rob because "oh, I guess your wife doesn't make your lunch?!" No, I don't. I'm too tired after taking care of children all day, getting up through the night with a teething baby, and bitching at my husband which seems to drain my energy too. And if it wasn't bad enough this is how Rob looks at this whole situation, I'm loosely quoting him, "We're doing this thing old school. But you're not acting like it!" Now, if you're wondering what the eff he is talking about, and don't worry, so was I. "Old school" means like in the 1950's when men worked, and women stayed home managing the babies, the housework, had dinner on the table...and they probably banged their husbands every night too. I'm a bad, bad wife.
So now I'm wondering if I'm in the wrong here? I should also mention that the word "lazy" was thrown around too, although he assured me that he doesn't really think I'm lazy. He just needs me to "help" more. He helps by going to work, so apparently it's my job to make sure his enormous lunch is packed in the morning. I guess taking care of the kids all day,making sure the house is clean,and stepping up during the night when kids/babies are awake isn't help enough. I will also take this time to state that Rob has NEVER gotten up during the night with any of the kids. No matter how much I have begged him to "help" Ironic? I think so.
Thursday, 23 August 2012
Tuesday, 31 July 2012
Let's talk about sex...
Now lets see how many page views I get;)
Now, there are many things that I'd like to say about sex....but as I've said before, this blog is public, and I've learned recently that my husband is very private about what goes on in our bedroom. Who knew? So, I figured I would make a post about sex that I'm sure most women, mothers especially can relate to.
How?? How do you find the time? How do you find the energy? How do you mentally get yourself there, you know what I mean. Guys can turn it on in a second, I'd love to be able to do that. But, I can't. So, when my husband is ready, I either turn him down, put on a happy face, and pray to be thinking about anything other than tomorrow's grocery list while we're getting busy, and/or become the best actress ever, and fake it. Now, before you get the wrong idea, I have never had a bad time in bed with my husband. It's always enjoyable, and faking it, most of the time, is just to give him a confidence boost....and depending on the night, speed things along;) But, I'm always really upset with myself that when he is in the mood the first thing that comes to my mind is, "Really? I don't feel like it." I'm sure I'm not alone in this.
I stay home all day with 3 kids. Now, I know that no matter what job you happen to do during the day, you inevitably will be tired when you get home. So, I'm definitely not using the SAHM thing as an excuse. But, with that being said, I'm exhausted about 97% of the day, until about 10:00pm. Then my brain wants to party, hence the late night blog posts. A typical day for me goes like this; Between 5-6am wake up with Logan, feed him and most days out him back to bed. I usually crawl back into bed after he goes down around 7am...and that's pretty much the time the other 2 wake up. So, I have to get up. The rest of the day consists of feedings/diaper changes/making meals/laundry/tidying/vacuum/mop/tidy again/and a little yelling, and crying in between(me, and the kids) By the time Rob walks through the door around 6:30, I'm done. I start counting down the time until Logan goes to bed. And after that I usually sit in bed with my laptop, and relax until I can fall asleep. After the kids go to sleep(in our bed) if Rob, or I happen to still be awake, which is rare. He will start with the "Lets go to the couch and "snuggle" Yeah, real subtle. And I think to myself, "Seriously? I'm nice and comfortable, and you want me to get up, and go to the couch to "snuggle" with you? Are you high? Then we argue a little. Apparently I'm not attracted to him anymore, or I have "issues" Or my fave "Why can't we have sex like we did when we first moved in together?" Well, maybe because we didn't have any fucking kids! And nobody sleeping in our bed or keeping us, and by us i mean ME up half the night. Good enough reason for ya?! Guys really are dense sometimes...
I love my husband. But, I am tired. Like, tired in my bones. I don't get enough sleep, I am stressed to the limit, I am struggling with PPD which is just the icing on the cake. I have been telling myself lately that maybe we should like make a sex calendar? I'm not sure if people do this or not, but I almost feel like we have sex more often when we plan it, as lame as that sounds. I guess I just wonder if there are women out there who are able to deal with the kids all day, or do anything all day, spend time with their family in the evening, and still find time to bang their husbands regularly? If you are out there....you are my hero.
Now, there are many things that I'd like to say about sex....but as I've said before, this blog is public, and I've learned recently that my husband is very private about what goes on in our bedroom. Who knew? So, I figured I would make a post about sex that I'm sure most women, mothers especially can relate to.
How?? How do you find the time? How do you find the energy? How do you mentally get yourself there, you know what I mean. Guys can turn it on in a second, I'd love to be able to do that. But, I can't. So, when my husband is ready, I either turn him down, put on a happy face, and pray to be thinking about anything other than tomorrow's grocery list while we're getting busy, and/or become the best actress ever, and fake it. Now, before you get the wrong idea, I have never had a bad time in bed with my husband. It's always enjoyable, and faking it, most of the time, is just to give him a confidence boost....and depending on the night, speed things along;) But, I'm always really upset with myself that when he is in the mood the first thing that comes to my mind is, "Really? I don't feel like it." I'm sure I'm not alone in this.
I stay home all day with 3 kids. Now, I know that no matter what job you happen to do during the day, you inevitably will be tired when you get home. So, I'm definitely not using the SAHM thing as an excuse. But, with that being said, I'm exhausted about 97% of the day, until about 10:00pm. Then my brain wants to party, hence the late night blog posts. A typical day for me goes like this; Between 5-6am wake up with Logan, feed him and most days out him back to bed. I usually crawl back into bed after he goes down around 7am...and that's pretty much the time the other 2 wake up. So, I have to get up. The rest of the day consists of feedings/diaper changes/making meals/laundry/tidying/vacuum/mop/tidy again/and a little yelling, and crying in between(me, and the kids) By the time Rob walks through the door around 6:30, I'm done. I start counting down the time until Logan goes to bed. And after that I usually sit in bed with my laptop, and relax until I can fall asleep. After the kids go to sleep(in our bed) if Rob, or I happen to still be awake, which is rare. He will start with the "Lets go to the couch and "snuggle" Yeah, real subtle. And I think to myself, "Seriously? I'm nice and comfortable, and you want me to get up, and go to the couch to "snuggle" with you? Are you high? Then we argue a little. Apparently I'm not attracted to him anymore, or I have "issues" Or my fave "Why can't we have sex like we did when we first moved in together?" Well, maybe because we didn't have any fucking kids! And nobody sleeping in our bed or keeping us, and by us i mean ME up half the night. Good enough reason for ya?! Guys really are dense sometimes...
I love my husband. But, I am tired. Like, tired in my bones. I don't get enough sleep, I am stressed to the limit, I am struggling with PPD which is just the icing on the cake. I have been telling myself lately that maybe we should like make a sex calendar? I'm not sure if people do this or not, but I almost feel like we have sex more often when we plan it, as lame as that sounds. I guess I just wonder if there are women out there who are able to deal with the kids all day, or do anything all day, spend time with their family in the evening, and still find time to bang their husbands regularly? If you are out there....you are my hero.
Thursday, 26 July 2012
Men are from Mars...
So, since the only topic request I got was men, and sex....here we go.
Now, I'm not going to talk about sex, this is a public blog, and I'm pretty sure my husband would not appreciate me divulging private details...or any details, which I've learnt lately;) But men, that's a different story. Sometimes I think they really are from a different planet!
I'm going to take this time to rant about some things my husband does, tat have me shaking my head.
Doing Dishes
He very rarely loads, or unloads the dishwasher, but when he does....I honestly don't even know what to say. He will stick the dishes anywhere, and everywhere. Plates on top of bowls, on top of plates. Yup, sounds about right. I really love it when I open up a cupboard, and have to scramble to make sure no dishes fall on me. His response when I comment on it? "Well, I just put them where it makes sense to me." Um, okay? I have realized lately that delegating around here is impossible. I really don't consider myself a control freak, but his version of "cleaning the house" and mine, differ greatly...like a lot.
Folding clothes
If you ask most people, the most hated household job is folding and putting away laundry. I know it's mine. So, I'm always happy when Rob offers to take care of it. Until I open my dresser drawers. Ten I remember why it is that I would rather do my most hated job myself than have my husband do it. The "folding" if you can call it that, is ridiculous! Most everything is not folded, it's just layed neatly out straight. And, you know how sometimes stuff gets washed inside out, either because you're supposed to, or because it doesn't get changed after it is taken off? Well, Rob feels that if it's inside out when it comes out of the dryer, that's how it will stay. Really?? So folding clothes, as much as I hate it, is something that I do myself now.
The Kids
Now I know Rob loves his kids, more than anything. But, getting him to watch them while I go out, is impossible. Well, I shouldn't say that. He will keep Ciena and Joel, but he still refuses to watch Logan! I mean, I understood, when Logan was really colicky, and he pretty much just screamed constantly. I didn't appreciate it...but I understood. But even now, he won't watch him while I go anywhere. Even if I tell him that I'll send Ciena and Joel to my mom's, or my gram's. But still nope. Logan is like the easiest baby now. He sleeps wonderfully, if you swaddle him, and turn his white noise on and lay him in his crib, he's out like a light. Same with bedtime. Not to mention I would never leave the kids with him for any longer than a couple of hours. It's just really frustrating to me, that I am here with the kids 24/7, and if I want to go out, I still have to take them. I never get a break! My mom works shiftwork, so during the week, it is almost impossible to find a babysitter, especially since my mom, and my grandparents are pretty much the only people I trust to watch my kids.
Snoring
There is really nothing I can say about Rob's snoring, except Holy Eff! I try to fall asleep before Rob every night. Because if I don't, then I don't sleep. His snoring is out.of.control. He has a cpap machine. But getting him to use it, is like pulling teeth. Some nights it isn't a problem. He gets into bed, puts his mask on, and there is no fighting. But most nights are pretty ridiculous. He falls asleep, then commence the snoring. I wake him up and tell him to put it on. He then sleepily says, "okay" 2 seconds later the snoring starts again. I again wake him up, and tell him to put it on. He gets agitated, and says "I am!" Then the snoring starts again! This is when I start to get a little pissy. And it pretty much goes from there, with us arguing about the damn machine. I threaten to smother him, he ignores me. And by that time I suspect that Rob is not putting the mask on just to spite me. Finally I give up, and try to sleep through it.
There are a ton more things I could write about when it comes to men, more namely, my husband. But, I think I've bored you enough for one day;)
Now, I'm not going to talk about sex, this is a public blog, and I'm pretty sure my husband would not appreciate me divulging private details...or any details, which I've learnt lately;) But men, that's a different story. Sometimes I think they really are from a different planet!
I'm going to take this time to rant about some things my husband does, tat have me shaking my head.
Doing Dishes
He very rarely loads, or unloads the dishwasher, but when he does....I honestly don't even know what to say. He will stick the dishes anywhere, and everywhere. Plates on top of bowls, on top of plates. Yup, sounds about right. I really love it when I open up a cupboard, and have to scramble to make sure no dishes fall on me. His response when I comment on it? "Well, I just put them where it makes sense to me." Um, okay? I have realized lately that delegating around here is impossible. I really don't consider myself a control freak, but his version of "cleaning the house" and mine, differ greatly...like a lot.
Folding clothes
If you ask most people, the most hated household job is folding and putting away laundry. I know it's mine. So, I'm always happy when Rob offers to take care of it. Until I open my dresser drawers. Ten I remember why it is that I would rather do my most hated job myself than have my husband do it. The "folding" if you can call it that, is ridiculous! Most everything is not folded, it's just layed neatly out straight. And, you know how sometimes stuff gets washed inside out, either because you're supposed to, or because it doesn't get changed after it is taken off? Well, Rob feels that if it's inside out when it comes out of the dryer, that's how it will stay. Really?? So folding clothes, as much as I hate it, is something that I do myself now.
The Kids
Now I know Rob loves his kids, more than anything. But, getting him to watch them while I go out, is impossible. Well, I shouldn't say that. He will keep Ciena and Joel, but he still refuses to watch Logan! I mean, I understood, when Logan was really colicky, and he pretty much just screamed constantly. I didn't appreciate it...but I understood. But even now, he won't watch him while I go anywhere. Even if I tell him that I'll send Ciena and Joel to my mom's, or my gram's. But still nope. Logan is like the easiest baby now. He sleeps wonderfully, if you swaddle him, and turn his white noise on and lay him in his crib, he's out like a light. Same with bedtime. Not to mention I would never leave the kids with him for any longer than a couple of hours. It's just really frustrating to me, that I am here with the kids 24/7, and if I want to go out, I still have to take them. I never get a break! My mom works shiftwork, so during the week, it is almost impossible to find a babysitter, especially since my mom, and my grandparents are pretty much the only people I trust to watch my kids.
Snoring
There is really nothing I can say about Rob's snoring, except Holy Eff! I try to fall asleep before Rob every night. Because if I don't, then I don't sleep. His snoring is out.of.control. He has a cpap machine. But getting him to use it, is like pulling teeth. Some nights it isn't a problem. He gets into bed, puts his mask on, and there is no fighting. But most nights are pretty ridiculous. He falls asleep, then commence the snoring. I wake him up and tell him to put it on. He then sleepily says, "okay" 2 seconds later the snoring starts again. I again wake him up, and tell him to put it on. He gets agitated, and says "I am!" Then the snoring starts again! This is when I start to get a little pissy. And it pretty much goes from there, with us arguing about the damn machine. I threaten to smother him, he ignores me. And by that time I suspect that Rob is not putting the mask on just to spite me. Finally I give up, and try to sleep through it.
There are a ton more things I could write about when it comes to men, more namely, my husband. But, I think I've bored you enough for one day;)
Thursday, 19 July 2012
They're back:(
Logan's episodes that is. I am so frustrated,stressed,scared....you name it. A few weeks ago I was rocking Logan in the stroller, and I noticed that every time I pulled the stroller towards me he would have a small one. You almost wouldn't even notice it, if you weren't aware of them. I thought it was a fluke, and forgot about it. Well today was bad. I was getting ready to have a shower this morning, and I picked up Logan's bouncy seat(with him in it) and proceeded to carry him into the bathroom, something I do almost everyday. Well this time he had a few really bad episodes as soon as I started to walk with him. I put him down, and he calmed down.
I'm so lost right now. All day long he has been having them, and the weird thing is, they seem to be more prominent when he is rocked/pushed/pulled/lifted. It seems like they are related to motion. He has been on reflux meds for months, and the pedi was adamant that it was all related to the reflux/sandifers syndrome. And I agreed after they stopped cold after the meds were started. Rob brought up the fact that we had started Logan on Soy formula per the ER pedi's request, to see if his wheeziness was due to a milk allergy/intolerance. He was on the soy for a total of 4 days, he hated it! Like, I almost had to force feed him every feeding. And even then he was drinking a fraction of what he normally drinks. So Rob suggested to me that maybe the episodes were happening because of the switch? I think both of us are kind of thinking of any possible reason, because the thought that there may not be a reason is stressing us...well, me, out.
I hate this. I hate this worry, it consumes my everyday, all day. All I do is worry about the kids, and while I know that's normal, I feel like the amount that I worry is over the top. It seems like it's all I think about. I imagine scenarios in my head where the kids are in harms way, or the kids are sick, or the kids are scared...I could go on. I hate the fact that my brain just goes into overdrive, and runs away with me. Coming off the heels of a week filled with an ear infection, croup, a baby who cannot sleep because his cough keeps him up. I need a break, and I feel like I'm whining, and I feel guilty because I know that there are parents who are dealing with things that I couldn't even imagine. And then I cry, and cry, and cry. Because the thought of that sends my anxiety through the roof. I feel like I'm drowning under all the worry, and stress. I would just love for one day that I could relax, and not feel the heaviness in my chest thinking about what could possibly be wrong with my kids:(
I'm so lost right now. All day long he has been having them, and the weird thing is, they seem to be more prominent when he is rocked/pushed/pulled/lifted. It seems like they are related to motion. He has been on reflux meds for months, and the pedi was adamant that it was all related to the reflux/sandifers syndrome. And I agreed after they stopped cold after the meds were started. Rob brought up the fact that we had started Logan on Soy formula per the ER pedi's request, to see if his wheeziness was due to a milk allergy/intolerance. He was on the soy for a total of 4 days, he hated it! Like, I almost had to force feed him every feeding. And even then he was drinking a fraction of what he normally drinks. So Rob suggested to me that maybe the episodes were happening because of the switch? I think both of us are kind of thinking of any possible reason, because the thought that there may not be a reason is stressing us...well, me, out.
I hate this. I hate this worry, it consumes my everyday, all day. All I do is worry about the kids, and while I know that's normal, I feel like the amount that I worry is over the top. It seems like it's all I think about. I imagine scenarios in my head where the kids are in harms way, or the kids are sick, or the kids are scared...I could go on. I hate the fact that my brain just goes into overdrive, and runs away with me. Coming off the heels of a week filled with an ear infection, croup, a baby who cannot sleep because his cough keeps him up. I need a break, and I feel like I'm whining, and I feel guilty because I know that there are parents who are dealing with things that I couldn't even imagine. And then I cry, and cry, and cry. Because the thought of that sends my anxiety through the roof. I feel like I'm drowning under all the worry, and stress. I would just love for one day that I could relax, and not feel the heaviness in my chest thinking about what could possibly be wrong with my kids:(
Sunday, 15 July 2012
Reminiscing...
Lately I have been thinking a lot about my childhood. Well, actually, my family. Immediate, and extended. Growing up, and holidays, and summers, and just family.
My brother and I spent a ton of time at my great-grandma's house. Now, when I say great grandma, I'm sure you think OLD. But, my great grandma was only 56 when I was born. She was definitely not a feeble old lady by any means. And spending time at her, and my great-grandpa's house was my favourite thing ever.
Christmases, birthdays, and every holiday in between were spent at her house. There were a lot of us...in adults alone there were at least 12, depending on who else stopped by. And kids, so many kids. Just grand kids alone, there were 10 of us, but other relatives and friends were inevitable for most holidays, and that would jump the number of kids up considerably. I smile to myself when I think of the little card table that would be set up in my grandma's living room. Before and after dinner, it was a euchre table. Gene, a close family friend whom we all just think of as family, would be leading the game. And he would usually have to stop playing to start an impromptu euchre lesson, because some of the older kids wanted to play too. And he would, patient as ever, explain it again and again, until they finally got it. At dinnertime, that card table was transformed into the "kids table" that's where we ate, and we preferred it that way. Where us cousins could talk, and not have grown ups listening over our shoulders.
The basement. Aaah, the basement. My grandma had the best basement...well, as far as basements go;) All of us kids spent most of our time down there, when we weren't outside. There was a little t.v that only got 2 stations, a fold out couch, that was turned into a pretty awesome wrestling ring, a bar...yep. A bar. We played bar pretty often, I have to say. And the basement was huge!! And I'm pretty sure it was soundproof.....all the adults liked us playing down there. We would turn the room into a hockey rink, and take shots at each other, we would wrestle, and we broke shit. Namely, one of the ceiling panels. We somehow broke it with a broom. But we used a piece of cardboard to kind of fashion it back together. We broke a hole right in the wall. Apparently 6 kids rocking really fast in a rocking armchair will go through the wall. Who knew? We destroyed that basement weekend after weekend. And then we would get the lecture that we never cleaned up after ourselves, so we were no longer allowed down there. But that quickly was reversed once the noise level of 8 kids got horrific.
We had fun, all the time fun. I spent entire summers there, all of my best childhood memories are there. I almost cannot believe all the people that are gone now, Great grandma, my great grandpa, grandma Sharon(dads mom), papa Chuck, Uncle Rick, Vi(Gene's wife), and our family hasn't really been the same since. In the span of 3 years, we lost 4 people. I think it broke us. The house, that house we all had so many amazing memories in, belongs to somebody else now. Our family, and extended family split between distance, and life is not the same. I long for those days. I long for my kids to know what it's like to have so many people around for Christmas dinner that you can't hear anything...but you love it. I want them to get excited, and giddy in anticipation of seeing everyone. Because that's how I always felt.
Those days feel like they are so long ago, but I am determined to get them back.
My brother and I spent a ton of time at my great-grandma's house. Now, when I say great grandma, I'm sure you think OLD. But, my great grandma was only 56 when I was born. She was definitely not a feeble old lady by any means. And spending time at her, and my great-grandpa's house was my favourite thing ever.
Christmases, birthdays, and every holiday in between were spent at her house. There were a lot of us...in adults alone there were at least 12, depending on who else stopped by. And kids, so many kids. Just grand kids alone, there were 10 of us, but other relatives and friends were inevitable for most holidays, and that would jump the number of kids up considerably. I smile to myself when I think of the little card table that would be set up in my grandma's living room. Before and after dinner, it was a euchre table. Gene, a close family friend whom we all just think of as family, would be leading the game. And he would usually have to stop playing to start an impromptu euchre lesson, because some of the older kids wanted to play too. And he would, patient as ever, explain it again and again, until they finally got it. At dinnertime, that card table was transformed into the "kids table" that's where we ate, and we preferred it that way. Where us cousins could talk, and not have grown ups listening over our shoulders.
The basement. Aaah, the basement. My grandma had the best basement...well, as far as basements go;) All of us kids spent most of our time down there, when we weren't outside. There was a little t.v that only got 2 stations, a fold out couch, that was turned into a pretty awesome wrestling ring, a bar...yep. A bar. We played bar pretty often, I have to say. And the basement was huge!! And I'm pretty sure it was soundproof.....all the adults liked us playing down there. We would turn the room into a hockey rink, and take shots at each other, we would wrestle, and we broke shit. Namely, one of the ceiling panels. We somehow broke it with a broom. But we used a piece of cardboard to kind of fashion it back together. We broke a hole right in the wall. Apparently 6 kids rocking really fast in a rocking armchair will go through the wall. Who knew? We destroyed that basement weekend after weekend. And then we would get the lecture that we never cleaned up after ourselves, so we were no longer allowed down there. But that quickly was reversed once the noise level of 8 kids got horrific.
We had fun, all the time fun. I spent entire summers there, all of my best childhood memories are there. I almost cannot believe all the people that are gone now, Great grandma, my great grandpa, grandma Sharon(dads mom), papa Chuck, Uncle Rick, Vi(Gene's wife), and our family hasn't really been the same since. In the span of 3 years, we lost 4 people. I think it broke us. The house, that house we all had so many amazing memories in, belongs to somebody else now. Our family, and extended family split between distance, and life is not the same. I long for those days. I long for my kids to know what it's like to have so many people around for Christmas dinner that you can't hear anything...but you love it. I want them to get excited, and giddy in anticipation of seeing everyone. Because that's how I always felt.
Those days feel like they are so long ago, but I am determined to get them back.
Wednesday, 11 July 2012
3 kids=Tired(mommy, not kids...kids never get tired)
I'm tapped out. For real.
I have been so exhausted lately, and yet come bedtime I twitter/pin/facebook wayy too long. Thankfully Logan sleeps pretty well, or else I don't know what I'd do.
There is always something going on. 3 kids is really a lot more insane than I thought it would be. I mean, not in a normal "holy shit! Having 3 kids is insane!" type of way, but more of a "When do I ever get a chance to sit down and relax." Type of way. To put it in plain English...they have a lot of shit going on. I mean Dr. appts alone are all.the.time. And that's not even factoring in trips to the walk-in if they get sick all of a sudden. Logan has well baby checks every 2 months. And with his reflux/wheeziness, he is seriously averaging on at least one appt every 2.5 weeks. Ciena has soccer every Monday and Wednesday, which will be finished next week thankfully! Then she has swimming lessons every Monday, and Joel has swimming lessons every Thursday. That's almost a week of obligations these kids have. They really have more of a life than I do;)
Shopping trips. Not that I necessarily have to take them to get whatever we need with me, but I usually do because Rob generally doesn't get home until dinnertime. And by then I just don't feel like doing anything but locking myself in the bathroom, pretending to poop while Rob occupies the kids, and I have a chance to recharge. Yes, I have to pretend to poop to get a moment to myself, pretty glam huh?! Anyways, shopping trips can easily fill the 2 days a week that we have free. We run out of the staples so quickly. So we always need to run to the store for something. Now most of the time I regret bringing the kids the moment we step through the doors. "Can we look at the toys? Do they have lobsters here? Can we get a cookie from the bakery?" And then, if I'm really lucky, one of them will have a meltdown over something, and I get to show off my mad pushing a stroller, while holding a screaming child and holding another child's hand, skills. It's crazy fun! Then just for shits and giggles, sometimes the toddler decides he's done, and flops down in the middle of the parking lot, forcing me to look like the best mom ever by half dragging him to the van wile I pray the wind doesn't pick up and carry the stroller away. Shopping trips with kids are a blast, said no one ever...
Then I get home. And the place is a mess. And that's when it hits me that I really should have cleaned it when I first got up, because now it just feels overwhelming, and I don't wanna! And some days I don't. I mean really, the kids just destroy it minutes later anyways. So by the end of the day I am just tired. Like mentally/physically/emotionally....you name it, I'm just tired. But yet, it's 10:32, and I'm blogging. Having 3 kids is exhausting. Did I mention that?
I have been so exhausted lately, and yet come bedtime I twitter/pin/facebook wayy too long. Thankfully Logan sleeps pretty well, or else I don't know what I'd do.
There is always something going on. 3 kids is really a lot more insane than I thought it would be. I mean, not in a normal "holy shit! Having 3 kids is insane!" type of way, but more of a "When do I ever get a chance to sit down and relax." Type of way. To put it in plain English...they have a lot of shit going on. I mean Dr. appts alone are all.the.time. And that's not even factoring in trips to the walk-in if they get sick all of a sudden. Logan has well baby checks every 2 months. And with his reflux/wheeziness, he is seriously averaging on at least one appt every 2.5 weeks. Ciena has soccer every Monday and Wednesday, which will be finished next week thankfully! Then she has swimming lessons every Monday, and Joel has swimming lessons every Thursday. That's almost a week of obligations these kids have. They really have more of a life than I do;)
Shopping trips. Not that I necessarily have to take them to get whatever we need with me, but I usually do because Rob generally doesn't get home until dinnertime. And by then I just don't feel like doing anything but locking myself in the bathroom, pretending to poop while Rob occupies the kids, and I have a chance to recharge. Yes, I have to pretend to poop to get a moment to myself, pretty glam huh?! Anyways, shopping trips can easily fill the 2 days a week that we have free. We run out of the staples so quickly. So we always need to run to the store for something. Now most of the time I regret bringing the kids the moment we step through the doors. "Can we look at the toys? Do they have lobsters here? Can we get a cookie from the bakery?" And then, if I'm really lucky, one of them will have a meltdown over something, and I get to show off my mad pushing a stroller, while holding a screaming child and holding another child's hand, skills. It's crazy fun! Then just for shits and giggles, sometimes the toddler decides he's done, and flops down in the middle of the parking lot, forcing me to look like the best mom ever by half dragging him to the van wile I pray the wind doesn't pick up and carry the stroller away. Shopping trips with kids are a blast, said no one ever...
Then I get home. And the place is a mess. And that's when it hits me that I really should have cleaned it when I first got up, because now it just feels overwhelming, and I don't wanna! And some days I don't. I mean really, the kids just destroy it minutes later anyways. So by the end of the day I am just tired. Like mentally/physically/emotionally....you name it, I'm just tired. But yet, it's 10:32, and I'm blogging. Having 3 kids is exhausting. Did I mention that?
Monday, 9 July 2012
I hope everyone still likes big butts, and guts...and well everything:/
So, this post isn't so much about the kiddos. I mean in a roundabout way it is, but I need to get real for a second. I am overweight, according to my BMI I'm actually obese:(
I have struggled with my weight forever. Starting in my teenage years, thinking I was "fat" although looking back now, I realize how silly that was. I remember in the months before I got pregnant with Ciena. I had been working at a restaurant for over a year, so I had gained some weight. I'm sure anyone that has worked at a restaurant can attest to the weight gain that inevitably happens when you are surrounded by food all day.
I felt bad about myself, I wanted to lose a few pounds, which at that time was pretty easy. I joined a work biggest loser competition, and bam! Lost 5 pounds. I remember looking at myself from the side, and wanting to cry seeing my "gut" hang out. Yeah, it certainly was NOT a gut, but what can I say? I was young, and stupid.
You have a baby and all sorts of science fiction shit happens to your body. I kind of suspected that I wouldn't be one of those girls that got right back into my old body after I gave birth. And I was right. For quite a while, I was pretty clueless about my size. You know how you always think you look worse than you actually do? Well, I had the exact opposite problem. I thought I looked great! I mean, I had a bit of a tummy, but I fit into my old pants. So no problem right?! Wrong! I saw pics of myself, and it all hit me. I was fat. I didn't want to be like I was. But it wasn't until Rob and I talked about having another baby that I knew something had to be done. I had seen tons of commercials for L.A. Weight loss. I looked them up and made an appt. Long story short $800 later I had joined with the cheapest program they had. Bless my husband, since i put him on the spot with a phone call asking if I could join. He agreed.
It was easier than I thought it would be. I had a week of detoxing, in which I lost 6lbs! Definitely a motivator. Then I had a plan tailored to me. All in all I lost 31 lbs before getting pregnant.......then I miscarried. Now without turning this into a sobfest, I will just say that is was pretty much the suckiest time of my life. I was broken. I had gained 7 pounds in the 11 weeks that I was pregnant, but I put on much more in the months that followed, which also included another miscarriage. By the time I got pregnant with Joel I had gained all of the weight back, plus some. But he was a sticky baby, so I didn't care.
Fast forward 2 more years, and another baby. And I'm fat. And for some reason, I have zero motivation. I start out everyday with the best of intentions. But then I'll have a bad day that either prevents me from eating even remotely healthy, because I don't have the time. Or my fat girl logic will tell me "eat the rest of that ::insertunhealthyfoodhere:: that way it won't be there to tempt you tomorrow." Then I'll tell myself that I might as well go balls to the wall because I've already ruined my diet for the day anyway. It's a vicious cycle. And I desperately need to break it. I need to get healthy, for my kids, for my health, for my peace of mind. I struggle with eating right, I struggle with exercise, I struggle with thoughts of hating myself because just thinking about my kids should give me he push to get healthy and fit.....but it doesn't.
I definitely welcome any and all advice/motivation/chants of "you can do this" Because shit is getting real. The scale is going up, instead of down. And I deserve to feel good about myself.
I have struggled with my weight forever. Starting in my teenage years, thinking I was "fat" although looking back now, I realize how silly that was. I remember in the months before I got pregnant with Ciena. I had been working at a restaurant for over a year, so I had gained some weight. I'm sure anyone that has worked at a restaurant can attest to the weight gain that inevitably happens when you are surrounded by food all day.
I felt bad about myself, I wanted to lose a few pounds, which at that time was pretty easy. I joined a work biggest loser competition, and bam! Lost 5 pounds. I remember looking at myself from the side, and wanting to cry seeing my "gut" hang out. Yeah, it certainly was NOT a gut, but what can I say? I was young, and stupid.
You have a baby and all sorts of science fiction shit happens to your body. I kind of suspected that I wouldn't be one of those girls that got right back into my old body after I gave birth. And I was right. For quite a while, I was pretty clueless about my size. You know how you always think you look worse than you actually do? Well, I had the exact opposite problem. I thought I looked great! I mean, I had a bit of a tummy, but I fit into my old pants. So no problem right?! Wrong! I saw pics of myself, and it all hit me. I was fat. I didn't want to be like I was. But it wasn't until Rob and I talked about having another baby that I knew something had to be done. I had seen tons of commercials for L.A. Weight loss. I looked them up and made an appt. Long story short $800 later I had joined with the cheapest program they had. Bless my husband, since i put him on the spot with a phone call asking if I could join. He agreed.
It was easier than I thought it would be. I had a week of detoxing, in which I lost 6lbs! Definitely a motivator. Then I had a plan tailored to me. All in all I lost 31 lbs before getting pregnant.......then I miscarried. Now without turning this into a sobfest, I will just say that is was pretty much the suckiest time of my life. I was broken. I had gained 7 pounds in the 11 weeks that I was pregnant, but I put on much more in the months that followed, which also included another miscarriage. By the time I got pregnant with Joel I had gained all of the weight back, plus some. But he was a sticky baby, so I didn't care.
Fast forward 2 more years, and another baby. And I'm fat. And for some reason, I have zero motivation. I start out everyday with the best of intentions. But then I'll have a bad day that either prevents me from eating even remotely healthy, because I don't have the time. Or my fat girl logic will tell me "eat the rest of that ::insertunhealthyfoodhere:: that way it won't be there to tempt you tomorrow." Then I'll tell myself that I might as well go balls to the wall because I've already ruined my diet for the day anyway. It's a vicious cycle. And I desperately need to break it. I need to get healthy, for my kids, for my health, for my peace of mind. I struggle with eating right, I struggle with exercise, I struggle with thoughts of hating myself because just thinking about my kids should give me he push to get healthy and fit.....but it doesn't.
I definitely welcome any and all advice/motivation/chants of "you can do this" Because shit is getting real. The scale is going up, instead of down. And I deserve to feel good about myself.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)