I have two baby boys. Two beautiful baby boys. They are everything I have ever dreamed of, and so much more.
Yet, people are always asking me “Are you going to try for a girl?” These people mean well, I'm sure. But I don't think they get it. Or maybe they just don't get me.
I have always wanted to have a son. When all the other little girls wanted their Cabbage Patch Kids to have the long corn silk hair...my mom was waiting in line all night to get me a bald baby boy.
We did not find out the gender of either of our children while I was pregnant, but I not-so-secretly hoped that the little people kicking me from within came with their own kickstand. And I was lucky. Not just once, but twice.
My boys are the perfect combination of sugar and spice and frogs and snails. They are cuddly and winsome and sensitive and mischievous. They are brothers. They are Mommy's little guys.
There are times when I think about the adult relationship I have with my mom, and I think that it would be nice to have that one day. I loved planning my wedding with my mom by my side. I love sharing a bond that I have with her, now that I am a mother myself. But having a daughter certainly doesn't guarantee that kind of relationship.
I don't feel cheated because I have closets full of overalls and polo shirts instead of patent leather shoes and pinafores. I don't feel like our family is incomplete because we don't have a Daddy's girl.
I have always dreamed of having a big family, and we may add to our little crew one day. But we won't be “trying” for anything other than a healthy baby. I'm sure that if we ever have a girl, we will feel like she is meant to be our daughter...but if we have a 3rd, or 4th, or 5th boy (my husband is having a heart attack as he reads this, ha!) it will be because we are filling our home with little people we love, and not because I have a pressing need to shop for tutus.
Friday, March 11, 2011
Thursday, March 3, 2011
Hostage Situation.
So, I was held "hostage" in my bathroom for about 15 minutes today.
I went in just to pee. I left the door open because Finny Bo Binny Binny Boo Boo was in the kitchen and I was (stupidly) thinking that with the door open I could just dash out if I heard a crash.
Instead, he followed me. No biggie, until he closed the door. No biggie...I'd just open it slowly. Until he put his finger ON THE HINGE. I could see it as I cracked the door, and I was worried that I would smash his little fingers if I opened it any more.
That little stinker thought I was hysterically funny talking to him from inside the bathroom door...but he would NOT move his had. Finally, he got bored of me, and crawled off.
I feel like I live with a pair of ferrets that are plotting my downfall.
I went in just to pee. I left the door open because Finny Bo Binny Binny Boo Boo was in the kitchen and I was (stupidly) thinking that with the door open I could just dash out if I heard a crash.
Instead, he followed me. No biggie, until he closed the door. No biggie...I'd just open it slowly. Until he put his finger ON THE HINGE. I could see it as I cracked the door, and I was worried that I would smash his little fingers if I opened it any more.
That little stinker thought I was hysterically funny talking to him from inside the bathroom door...but he would NOT move his had. Finally, he got bored of me, and crawled off.
I feel like I live with a pair of ferrets that are plotting my downfall.
Monday, February 21, 2011
Here is My Secret.
"Seriously, you amaze me!"
"You handle two kids so well"
"How do you pull it all together?"
...just a few comments I've received lately.
Here's the truth: My life is complete, total, and utter chaos. Let me repeat that: My life is complete, total, and utter chaos. Emphasis on the chaos.
I think it is hysterical that I (apparently) project this image of having it all together, when the truth is, I'm about as far from it as possible!!
My house is a disaster. My car has at least an inch of graham cracker crumb dust. My laundry is never done. My grocery bill is too high. My two-year old hits, kicks, pushes, and paints on windows with his drool. My 9 month old just came out of a 7 month long scream. Yes, one scream seemed to last the entire 7 months. My husband has to suffer through PB sammies 3 or 4 days a week for lunch, and act like he loves that I pack his lunch. I carry around a ginormous diaper bag, yet I often leave the house for a day trip without a single diaper.
But, to steal a line from Oprah, here is what I know for sure: None of that 'stuff' matters.
And THAT's my real secret. Very little matters. It is just that simple. We have our health, and we have eachother. And those are the only things that are truly important to me.
Today I made glitter pictures with the Tatiman. I pushed Finny Bo Binny Binny Boo Boo on a swing. We walked down a wooded path collecting at least 37 sticks. We ate lunch together.
A day full of chaos. A day full of perfection.
"You handle two kids so well"
"How do you pull it all together?"
...just a few comments I've received lately.
Here's the truth: My life is complete, total, and utter chaos. Let me repeat that: My life is complete, total, and utter chaos. Emphasis on the chaos.
I think it is hysterical that I (apparently) project this image of having it all together, when the truth is, I'm about as far from it as possible!!
My house is a disaster. My car has at least an inch of graham cracker crumb dust. My laundry is never done. My grocery bill is too high. My two-year old hits, kicks, pushes, and paints on windows with his drool. My 9 month old just came out of a 7 month long scream. Yes, one scream seemed to last the entire 7 months. My husband has to suffer through PB sammies 3 or 4 days a week for lunch, and act like he loves that I pack his lunch. I carry around a ginormous diaper bag, yet I often leave the house for a day trip without a single diaper.
But, to steal a line from Oprah, here is what I know for sure: None of that 'stuff' matters.
And THAT's my real secret. Very little matters. It is just that simple. We have our health, and we have eachother. And those are the only things that are truly important to me.
Today I made glitter pictures with the Tatiman. I pushed Finny Bo Binny Binny Boo Boo on a swing. We walked down a wooded path collecting at least 37 sticks. We ate lunch together.
A day full of chaos. A day full of perfection.
Thursday, February 17, 2011
Confession Time.
I've been thinking about changing the name of the blog for a while. I don't confess much, and I'm really just an amateur mom. But, I haven't come up with anything better yet, so for now, the name sticks. In the meantime, I offer you these confessions:
1. My family room looks like this:
2. My boys have been napping for two hours. Rather than spending even a second straightening the family room, I sat quietly on the couch, working on a photo album.
3. The album is for the year 2009.
4. We spent the morning outside and had a lovely picnic lunch: PB & J, veggies, fruit, figs (yes, I know they are a fruit. The Tatiman thinks they are candy, shhhhhhhh!), tofu, crackers, cheese. A real mish mash. When we got home, I put the bag with the leftovers in the fridge. I'm contemplating taking the boys back out to play when they wake up. I'm contemplating just grabbing that bag, and taking it with us for dinner. And if, by chance, there is not enough food left in the bag for dinner, I'm contemplating supplementing with ice cream.
Whew. I feel better getting all of that off my chest!! Carry on...
1. My family room looks like this:
2. My boys have been napping for two hours. Rather than spending even a second straightening the family room, I sat quietly on the couch, working on a photo album.
3. The album is for the year 2009.
4. We spent the morning outside and had a lovely picnic lunch: PB & J, veggies, fruit, figs (yes, I know they are a fruit. The Tatiman thinks they are candy, shhhhhhhh!), tofu, crackers, cheese. A real mish mash. When we got home, I put the bag with the leftovers in the fridge. I'm contemplating taking the boys back out to play when they wake up. I'm contemplating just grabbing that bag, and taking it with us for dinner. And if, by chance, there is not enough food left in the bag for dinner, I'm contemplating supplementing with ice cream.
Whew. I feel better getting all of that off my chest!! Carry on...
Wednesday, February 16, 2011
Pregnancy...the Second Time Around.
Women say that once you give birth, you forget about all the pain of labor. Women say that when you hold your baby for the first time, you forget about how sick you were for the 9 months leading up to that moment. Women say that once you get through those first few months of newborn insanity, you forget about the sleepless nights and shower-free days.
Women lie. A lot.
I did not forget about the 25 weeks of round the clock vomiting, punctuated with two bouts of the stomach flu. I did not forget about 44 hours of pitocin induced contractions, the first 24 of which were completely free of pain medications. (I may have mentioned that before, and I will probably mention that again. In fact, I like to mention it once in a while to the Tatiman, just so he understands that he is lucky I didn't call off the whole thing around hour 23.5 of labor.) I didn't even forget about newborn insanity. But the second time around, I went into it armed with the knowledge that all of that is SO worth it.
My second pregnancy started off way better than the first. Looking back, the roller coaster I rode when I was 5 weeks pregnant (and did not know it) was a metaphor for the next 33 weeks. I stopped nursing (well, pumping) the Tatiman when he was a year old. A few short weeks later, I felt off...and since we were heading to an amusement park, I took a HPT, just to be safe. Negative. Off to ride roller coasters I went!! Somewhere around the 2nd dip on the first coaster, I felt the contents of my stomach gurgle up into my mouth. I *knew* that HPT had to be wrong. Fine time to find out you are preggo...halfway through a roller coaster ride, with your entire family waiting at the exit gate.
A few weeks and a confirmatory u/s later (where I was happy to see that roller coaster ride had not scrambled the fetus's parts), we informed the world. You get some fun reactions when you have a 13 month old, and a little popping belly. People lack filters. But, that's a post for another time!
So, at about 7 weeks pregnant, I made my fatal mistake. I mentioned, casually, that this pregnancy was so EASY compared to my last. I mean, I was a little queasy, but I was able to eat. The smell of the refrigerator was not offensive, nor had I developed a sensitivity to air.
And then it hit me. Pregnancy #2's nausea was clearly out to prove that Pregnancy #1's nausea was a wimp. I am generally anti medication while preggo, for fear of what it could do to my growing baby (Roller coaster riding...check. Anti-nausea medication...no way!). Which meant I spent my days barfing, peeing (often while barfing...so lovely), and crying. Oh the joy that a little bundle brings!!
And the Tatiman. Poor, sweet, innocent Tatiman. The Tatiman who, up until that point had not watched any TV. The Tatiman who was used to dining on 100% homemade, organic meals. Well, that Tatiman was quickly introduced to Elmo and spaghettiOs (which he, thankfully, refused). I had many a cry about my perceived failures at motherhood-while-preggo, but we were in survival mode. And, I'm happy to say, survive we did.
Thankfully, the nausea subsided around week 16, and aside from a few other wonky things (Finny Bo Binny Binny Boo Boo was a fan of laying sideways, trying to wrap around my back...requiring two actual versions and one attempted version), the rest of the pregnancy turned out to be easy peasy. Imagine that.
And this time, the moment I held my baby in my arms, my first thought was about getting to do that all over again, because there is nothing else in this world, quite as amazing.
Women lie. A lot.
I did not forget about the 25 weeks of round the clock vomiting, punctuated with two bouts of the stomach flu. I did not forget about 44 hours of pitocin induced contractions, the first 24 of which were completely free of pain medications. (I may have mentioned that before, and I will probably mention that again. In fact, I like to mention it once in a while to the Tatiman, just so he understands that he is lucky I didn't call off the whole thing around hour 23.5 of labor.) I didn't even forget about newborn insanity. But the second time around, I went into it armed with the knowledge that all of that is SO worth it.
My second pregnancy started off way better than the first. Looking back, the roller coaster I rode when I was 5 weeks pregnant (and did not know it) was a metaphor for the next 33 weeks. I stopped nursing (well, pumping) the Tatiman when he was a year old. A few short weeks later, I felt off...and since we were heading to an amusement park, I took a HPT, just to be safe. Negative. Off to ride roller coasters I went!! Somewhere around the 2nd dip on the first coaster, I felt the contents of my stomach gurgle up into my mouth. I *knew* that HPT had to be wrong. Fine time to find out you are preggo...halfway through a roller coaster ride, with your entire family waiting at the exit gate.
A few weeks and a confirmatory u/s later (where I was happy to see that roller coaster ride had not scrambled the fetus's parts), we informed the world. You get some fun reactions when you have a 13 month old, and a little popping belly. People lack filters. But, that's a post for another time!
So, at about 7 weeks pregnant, I made my fatal mistake. I mentioned, casually, that this pregnancy was so EASY compared to my last. I mean, I was a little queasy, but I was able to eat. The smell of the refrigerator was not offensive, nor had I developed a sensitivity to air.
And then it hit me. Pregnancy #2's nausea was clearly out to prove that Pregnancy #1's nausea was a wimp. I am generally anti medication while preggo, for fear of what it could do to my growing baby (Roller coaster riding...check. Anti-nausea medication...no way!). Which meant I spent my days barfing, peeing (often while barfing...so lovely), and crying. Oh the joy that a little bundle brings!!
And the Tatiman. Poor, sweet, innocent Tatiman. The Tatiman who, up until that point had not watched any TV. The Tatiman who was used to dining on 100% homemade, organic meals. Well, that Tatiman was quickly introduced to Elmo and spaghettiOs (which he, thankfully, refused). I had many a cry about my perceived failures at motherhood-while-preggo, but we were in survival mode. And, I'm happy to say, survive we did.
Thankfully, the nausea subsided around week 16, and aside from a few other wonky things (Finny Bo Binny Binny Boo Boo was a fan of laying sideways, trying to wrap around my back...requiring two actual versions and one attempted version), the rest of the pregnancy turned out to be easy peasy. Imagine that.
And this time, the moment I held my baby in my arms, my first thought was about getting to do that all over again, because there is nothing else in this world, quite as amazing.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
Posts
