As I'm laying here on the couch early in the morning, yet again, all by myself, I can help but have the following thoughts:
I miss this.
I miss being able to watch whatever I want whenever I want.
I miss being able to wake up on my own without any crying or screaming.
I miss being able to do whatever I want whenever I want.
I miss not worrying about two littles.
I miss not being in so much debt from creating littles that don't even look like me!
I miss being comfortable.
I miss sleeping the morning away.
I miss going to sleep at night and not being woken up by a little hand smacking my face.
I miss not being a mom.
But then I walk down the hall to wake up Squid. As I open the door and see that he's awake, I can't help but crawl into his tiny bed and snuggle with him as he tells me about his dreams and have the following thoughts:
I missed you.
I missed playing with you all day long.
I missed helping you get food, get dressed, etc.
I missed holding you in my arms.
I missed telling stories with you.
I missed doing puzzles with you.
I missed chasing you around the couch/house just for fun.
I miss your brother Kickboxer.
I missed being a mom.
Motherhood is so weird. You hate being a mom and being responsible for two littles and can't wait until they are in bed so you can have a minute to yourself. But as soon as you get a moment to yourself, you miss those littles and just want them with you all the time.
Showing posts with label Children. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Children. Show all posts
August 7, 2017
October 12, 2016
A Blessing Amid Chaos
Baby Kickboxer has made his debut! He's about three weeks old and FATMAN! and I are absolutely in love with him. Though he has warmed up to a baby being in the house, Squid still doesn't fully know what to think about Kickboxer or being a big brother.
But the way that Kickboxer made his debut is one for the books. If I hadn't been there and witnessed it myself, I wouldn't believe it happened like this.
First, a little back story: My labor and delivery with the Squid was quite easy, typical, and had very little problems. I was able to labor through the contractions with breathing techniques and relaxing in the tub. I did not get an epidural (but I was asking for it at the end when it was too late). I had to have my waters broken by the doctor. Squid decided to start coming before I was fully dilated and I ended up pushing for two hours. I tore a little bit and needed 4 stitches. For it being my first labor and delivery, it was good and much better than I expected it to be.
My labor and delivery with Kickboxer was completely different. It was hard. It was ugly.
My water broke at 3 am when I rolled over in bed after FATMAN! bumped me when he rolled over. I immediately sat up getting my bed all wet and woke FATMAN! up then jumped to action to get everything together and ready to go to the hospital. As soon as the sitter arrived to stay with Squid until my parents arrived, FATMAN! and I were off.
As soon as we got to my room and somewhat settled, I was told my water had indeed broken (they tested just to be sure) and that I was only dilated 1 cm. It was going to be a while before Kickboxer arrived. Both FATMAN! and I did our best to relax and rest while contractions started and progressed. By the time the nurses rotated 3 hours after we arrived, I was dilated to 3 cm and my contractions were all over the place.
My new nurse suggested I lay on my side to help move contractions along. So I did... and my contractions sure did come closer together, but they also became more and more intense as time passed. I did my best to manage the pain, but as time went on and my contractions became unbearable, I started to cry and started to ask for an epidural, which I had planned on not doing. After about an hour and a half of crying and asking but being torn with making a final decision, I gave in and told FATMAN! that I wanted an epidural. Which was perfect timing because my nurse had just come in to check on things again. I told the nurse my decision and after checking the progress (I was dilated to 5 cm), she went and got the anesthesiologist. He was super nice and quite funny. It took about 20 minutes for the epidural to start working, but once it kicked in and my pain started to subside, FATMAN! left to get lunch and I rested. Within an hour, I was starting to feel much better and fell asleep for about an hour.
The next few hours were quite uneventful. FATMAN! and I sat and laid around watching TV and checked in with my parents who had come up to help with the Squid. Progression had slowed so I was put on oxytocin around 3:30-ish and I was rolled onto my side yet again. Nearing the end of labor, I started feeling pressure from my contractions and a kick here and there from Kickboxer, but other than that, nothing exciting happened.
And then at about 5:20 (I honestly don't know, I'm guesstimating) I felt this odd feeling near my hip. The best way I can explain it is that it felt like a fluttery kick (when you first start feeling your baby moving around inside you at the beginning of pregnancy). I thought it was odd, but didn't think anything else about it. Then I felt the exact same thing a minute later.... then thirty seconds later. It was after that third time that I told FATMAN! to go get my nurse. Instead of doing what I said, he came to the other side of my bed to check on my contractions on the monitor. When he saw that nothing was wrong, he turned towards the door and saw a bulge under the sheet that wasn't quite right. He said something to the effect of "He's here" and ran out the door. I immediately threw back the sheet just in time to see Kickboxer's butt and legs emerge. At that sight I was overcome with many emotions: relief that it was finally over, happiness that I didn't have to push at all let alone two hours, fear because he was bluer than Squid when he was born and the umbilical cord was wrapped around his body (and the sheet didn't clear his head), and awe and wonderment (possibly a little shock).
My nurse, the baby nurse, and an extra nurse all came rushing in with FATMAN! at the caboose. A fourth nurse went to the room next to mine to get my doctor (who didn't believe at first that I had delivered without his assistance) and he came in a minute later. While one nurse was taking care of Kickboxer and another one was taking care of me, my doctor, FATMAN!, and I were trying to figure out what had happened. My doctor has the theory that Kickboxer was in a bad position all during labor and then he finally rolled over and just slid right now. At the same time as we were discussing the miracle, I was waiting to hear my son cry. It must have only been about a minute, but it felt like forever to me. The nurse said that he had extra fluid in his passageways and that was what caused him to have a hard time breathing at first. Still the pediatrician put us on house arrest for a few days because of it. But as soon as he did cry, my fear subsided and I was so happy to know that my son was healthy.
It's been an interesting and rough three weeks since then. Kids change everything. When one of those kids is a terrible two and the other is a newborn, hardly anything stays clean or gets done all at once, especially now that FATMAN! is back to his normal work schedule. I manage. Some days I go to bed tired and weary. Other days I go to bed exhausted because I've been up since before the sun with no break or rest. Some days I wonder why I even wanted children in the first place. And then Squid says the cutest thing and Kickboxer smiles while sleeping in my arms. It's the small things that make it worth all the crazy and stressful times.
But the way that Kickboxer made his debut is one for the books. If I hadn't been there and witnessed it myself, I wouldn't believe it happened like this.
First, a little back story: My labor and delivery with the Squid was quite easy, typical, and had very little problems. I was able to labor through the contractions with breathing techniques and relaxing in the tub. I did not get an epidural (but I was asking for it at the end when it was too late). I had to have my waters broken by the doctor. Squid decided to start coming before I was fully dilated and I ended up pushing for two hours. I tore a little bit and needed 4 stitches. For it being my first labor and delivery, it was good and much better than I expected it to be.
My labor and delivery with Kickboxer was completely different. It was hard. It was ugly.
My water broke at 3 am when I rolled over in bed after FATMAN! bumped me when he rolled over. I immediately sat up getting my bed all wet and woke FATMAN! up then jumped to action to get everything together and ready to go to the hospital. As soon as the sitter arrived to stay with Squid until my parents arrived, FATMAN! and I were off.
As soon as we got to my room and somewhat settled, I was told my water had indeed broken (they tested just to be sure) and that I was only dilated 1 cm. It was going to be a while before Kickboxer arrived. Both FATMAN! and I did our best to relax and rest while contractions started and progressed. By the time the nurses rotated 3 hours after we arrived, I was dilated to 3 cm and my contractions were all over the place.
My new nurse suggested I lay on my side to help move contractions along. So I did... and my contractions sure did come closer together, but they also became more and more intense as time passed. I did my best to manage the pain, but as time went on and my contractions became unbearable, I started to cry and started to ask for an epidural, which I had planned on not doing. After about an hour and a half of crying and asking but being torn with making a final decision, I gave in and told FATMAN! that I wanted an epidural. Which was perfect timing because my nurse had just come in to check on things again. I told the nurse my decision and after checking the progress (I was dilated to 5 cm), she went and got the anesthesiologist. He was super nice and quite funny. It took about 20 minutes for the epidural to start working, but once it kicked in and my pain started to subside, FATMAN! left to get lunch and I rested. Within an hour, I was starting to feel much better and fell asleep for about an hour.
The next few hours were quite uneventful. FATMAN! and I sat and laid around watching TV and checked in with my parents who had come up to help with the Squid. Progression had slowed so I was put on oxytocin around 3:30-ish and I was rolled onto my side yet again. Nearing the end of labor, I started feeling pressure from my contractions and a kick here and there from Kickboxer, but other than that, nothing exciting happened.
And then at about 5:20 (I honestly don't know, I'm guesstimating) I felt this odd feeling near my hip. The best way I can explain it is that it felt like a fluttery kick (when you first start feeling your baby moving around inside you at the beginning of pregnancy). I thought it was odd, but didn't think anything else about it. Then I felt the exact same thing a minute later.... then thirty seconds later. It was after that third time that I told FATMAN! to go get my nurse. Instead of doing what I said, he came to the other side of my bed to check on my contractions on the monitor. When he saw that nothing was wrong, he turned towards the door and saw a bulge under the sheet that wasn't quite right. He said something to the effect of "He's here" and ran out the door. I immediately threw back the sheet just in time to see Kickboxer's butt and legs emerge. At that sight I was overcome with many emotions: relief that it was finally over, happiness that I didn't have to push at all let alone two hours, fear because he was bluer than Squid when he was born and the umbilical cord was wrapped around his body (and the sheet didn't clear his head), and awe and wonderment (possibly a little shock).
My nurse, the baby nurse, and an extra nurse all came rushing in with FATMAN! at the caboose. A fourth nurse went to the room next to mine to get my doctor (who didn't believe at first that I had delivered without his assistance) and he came in a minute later. While one nurse was taking care of Kickboxer and another one was taking care of me, my doctor, FATMAN!, and I were trying to figure out what had happened. My doctor has the theory that Kickboxer was in a bad position all during labor and then he finally rolled over and just slid right now. At the same time as we were discussing the miracle, I was waiting to hear my son cry. It must have only been about a minute, but it felt like forever to me. The nurse said that he had extra fluid in his passageways and that was what caused him to have a hard time breathing at first. Still the pediatrician put us on house arrest for a few days because of it. But as soon as he did cry, my fear subsided and I was so happy to know that my son was healthy.
It's been an interesting and rough three weeks since then. Kids change everything. When one of those kids is a terrible two and the other is a newborn, hardly anything stays clean or gets done all at once, especially now that FATMAN! is back to his normal work schedule. I manage. Some days I go to bed tired and weary. Other days I go to bed exhausted because I've been up since before the sun with no break or rest. Some days I wonder why I even wanted children in the first place. And then Squid says the cutest thing and Kickboxer smiles while sleeping in my arms. It's the small things that make it worth all the crazy and stressful times.
August 5, 2016
No, I Haven't Fallen Off the Face of the Earth
My dear readers,
I just want to quickly say thank you for reading my blog and no, I haven't fallen off the planet. I have simply (dang pregnancy brain) forgotten that I have this blog. But I have also been busy. July brought on a couple of trips home, false alarms about labor, frustration, heat, and overall craziness.
The Squid (now being just a few weeks from his birthday) has decided to become a full on Terrible Two Toddler before his second birthday. He's been very disobedient and rebellious and, frankly, I don't know how much more I can handle! It's crazy how my sweet little angel is now so picky, says no to everything, and doesn't listen to me. So that's been frustrating.
My sister got married in the middle of July. That was interesting to say the least. Let's just say that I'm glad it wasn't my wedding, but I wish that certain people had minded the schedule that was put together (though one incident was my fault), especially when it came to eating food. It was good, but things did not go smoothly. But it was great to have some time off from work (both FATMAN! and I) and to just relax after all of the chaos with my family.
Then work started up afterwards again. I love my "job" as a Jamberry consultant. I truly do, but everything has its ups and downs and July was a small down after April, May, and June. (Things are already looking up for August!) So that was a little bit of a bummer, but not quite as frustrating and/or stressful as it was for FATMAN!. He manages the store that he works in and summer is the busiest time of the year. So he (and I) prefer to have as many employees in the store as possible during summer. At the end of June, the assistant manager took a different job and moved away. It was a great opportunity for the assistant manager, but that left FATMAN! one employee short. AND he isn't getting a replacement for another couple of weeks. So he's gone all of July missing his assistant manager and he's had to pick up hours, clean up any messes caused by other employees, and do the manager and assistant manager responsibilities. He has definitely been stressed and run ragged. I am so grateful that he has sacrificed so much so that I can stay home with the kids.
Speaking of kids, Storm, our puppy, has also become a brat. And I'm going to leave it at that for the sake of lengthy blog posts.
Then a couple of weeks after my sister's wedding, I had the opportunity presented to me to go to a meeting at Jamberry Home Office. So I convinced FATMAN! to make the drive again to my parents' house and I was able to go to a very wonderful and much needed meeting. I got training, motivation, new ideas, and I got to go with my sister in law! It was great! (Not to mention the free and discounted stuff I got.)
On top of all of these events, it's summer. It's hot and miserable. On top of that, I'm near the end of my pregnancy. I hate summer in general. I hate being hot and sweaty and exhausted. This is my second summer pregnancy and I knew what to expect as far as pregnant in summer goes, but I never thought this time around would be harder to cope with. I thought my little angel would stay an angel a little bit longer, I didn't think my unborn son would cause me so much pain and worry (referring to the false alarm labor scare I mentioned earlier), and I certainly didn't expect that my husband would be so much busier and more stressed from work and other things in our lives. I am just over 7 weeks away from my due date. It's going to be the longest 7 weeks of the summer. I can say that with confidence because this whole summer has been LONG! I hate being pregnant in summer and I will never do it again, but I can't wait to meet my little boy.
Sorry for going on a ranting spree. I just needed to get it out in a different form. Thanks for sticking with me. Hopefully, I'll remember to post more often until D day.
I just want to quickly say thank you for reading my blog and no, I haven't fallen off the planet. I have simply (dang pregnancy brain) forgotten that I have this blog. But I have also been busy. July brought on a couple of trips home, false alarms about labor, frustration, heat, and overall craziness.
The Squid (now being just a few weeks from his birthday) has decided to become a full on Terrible Two Toddler before his second birthday. He's been very disobedient and rebellious and, frankly, I don't know how much more I can handle! It's crazy how my sweet little angel is now so picky, says no to everything, and doesn't listen to me. So that's been frustrating.
My sister got married in the middle of July. That was interesting to say the least. Let's just say that I'm glad it wasn't my wedding, but I wish that certain people had minded the schedule that was put together (though one incident was my fault), especially when it came to eating food. It was good, but things did not go smoothly. But it was great to have some time off from work (both FATMAN! and I) and to just relax after all of the chaos with my family.
Then work started up afterwards again. I love my "job" as a Jamberry consultant. I truly do, but everything has its ups and downs and July was a small down after April, May, and June. (Things are already looking up for August!) So that was a little bit of a bummer, but not quite as frustrating and/or stressful as it was for FATMAN!. He manages the store that he works in and summer is the busiest time of the year. So he (and I) prefer to have as many employees in the store as possible during summer. At the end of June, the assistant manager took a different job and moved away. It was a great opportunity for the assistant manager, but that left FATMAN! one employee short. AND he isn't getting a replacement for another couple of weeks. So he's gone all of July missing his assistant manager and he's had to pick up hours, clean up any messes caused by other employees, and do the manager and assistant manager responsibilities. He has definitely been stressed and run ragged. I am so grateful that he has sacrificed so much so that I can stay home with the kids.
Speaking of kids, Storm, our puppy, has also become a brat. And I'm going to leave it at that for the sake of lengthy blog posts.
Then a couple of weeks after my sister's wedding, I had the opportunity presented to me to go to a meeting at Jamberry Home Office. So I convinced FATMAN! to make the drive again to my parents' house and I was able to go to a very wonderful and much needed meeting. I got training, motivation, new ideas, and I got to go with my sister in law! It was great! (Not to mention the free and discounted stuff I got.)
On top of all of these events, it's summer. It's hot and miserable. On top of that, I'm near the end of my pregnancy. I hate summer in general. I hate being hot and sweaty and exhausted. This is my second summer pregnancy and I knew what to expect as far as pregnant in summer goes, but I never thought this time around would be harder to cope with. I thought my little angel would stay an angel a little bit longer, I didn't think my unborn son would cause me so much pain and worry (referring to the false alarm labor scare I mentioned earlier), and I certainly didn't expect that my husband would be so much busier and more stressed from work and other things in our lives. I am just over 7 weeks away from my due date. It's going to be the longest 7 weeks of the summer. I can say that with confidence because this whole summer has been LONG! I hate being pregnant in summer and I will never do it again, but I can't wait to meet my little boy.
Sorry for going on a ranting spree. I just needed to get it out in a different form. Thanks for sticking with me. Hopefully, I'll remember to post more often until D day.
April 22, 2016
My Two Bits
I simply want to get my opinion out there where I know most of you will read and that's it. (And I control whose comments get published and whose doesn't.)
Target, the store, is a monster for changing the policy to favor "transgenders." If you live under a rock and haven't heard, Target has come out and said that everyone can now go into the bathrooms and dressing rooms that they "associate with." Meaning that those men who fall under the category of "transgender" can now go into the women's bathroom and dressing room. Even though this may help and support "transgenders" and the LGBT community, it has become a threat to the rest of us, especially women and children.
Now men can claim to be "transgender" (whether they are or not) and go into the women's bathroom and spy on them. Horrible, cruel men can now go into women's bathrooms at Target and easily get victims. By saying that "transgenders" can go into whatever bathroom they want, Target has basically said that women don't have any rights at all and has thrown all safety for their women patrons out the window.
I honestly don't care what other people do with their lives. That is, I don't care until it effects me or my children and/or puts one of us in danger. I don't want to have to worry about going into bathroom in public because I could be raped by a man who shouldn't be in there. I don't want to be afraid of public restrooms because I could be photographed. I don't want to be afraid because I could become a victim. And I definitely don't want to be afraid because my children could get hurt, kidnapped, humiliated, etc. all because people can choose whatever bathroom they wish.
Target has been one of my favorite stores for a long time. It did not bother me when they started their "transgender" wedding campaign. It did not bother me when they stopped splitting up toys into gender-ized sections. It does bother me that "transgenders" can now going into whatever bathroom or dressing room they wish. It bothers me because it is now a threat to me and my children. My children or I could get seriously hurt just for walking into a bathroom in Target.
So now I say "So long, Target. You have gone too far." I will never step foot into another Target store of my own free will ever again.
Target, the store, is a monster for changing the policy to favor "transgenders." If you live under a rock and haven't heard, Target has come out and said that everyone can now go into the bathrooms and dressing rooms that they "associate with." Meaning that those men who fall under the category of "transgender" can now go into the women's bathroom and dressing room. Even though this may help and support "transgenders" and the LGBT community, it has become a threat to the rest of us, especially women and children.
Now men can claim to be "transgender" (whether they are or not) and go into the women's bathroom and spy on them. Horrible, cruel men can now go into women's bathrooms at Target and easily get victims. By saying that "transgenders" can go into whatever bathroom they want, Target has basically said that women don't have any rights at all and has thrown all safety for their women patrons out the window.
I honestly don't care what other people do with their lives. That is, I don't care until it effects me or my children and/or puts one of us in danger. I don't want to have to worry about going into bathroom in public because I could be raped by a man who shouldn't be in there. I don't want to be afraid of public restrooms because I could be photographed. I don't want to be afraid because I could become a victim. And I definitely don't want to be afraid because my children could get hurt, kidnapped, humiliated, etc. all because people can choose whatever bathroom they wish.
Target has been one of my favorite stores for a long time. It did not bother me when they started their "transgender" wedding campaign. It did not bother me when they stopped splitting up toys into gender-ized sections. It does bother me that "transgenders" can now going into whatever bathroom or dressing room they wish. It bothers me because it is now a threat to me and my children. My children or I could get seriously hurt just for walking into a bathroom in Target.
So now I say "So long, Target. You have gone too far." I will never step foot into another Target store of my own free will ever again.
November 6, 2015
When What You Thought To Be True Changes
My heart is breaking.
There is nothing I can do about it.
I don't understand.
Why?
Why them?
They haven't done anything wrong.
Why punish the innocent?
Why deny them the blessings they deserve because of someone else?
I don't understand.
How can something I have grown up being taught to be true all of a sudden come with a condition?
I don't know what to do.
My heart aches.
I can't stop it.
I can't prevent it.
I don't know if it will heal.
As long as I am a mother, my heart will ache.
How can this be?
How can You say those things?
How can You deny them?
How can You keep them away?
They are Your children!
I don't understand.
I wish there was something I could do.
I wish I could see this through Your eyes.
I wish I could see what You see.
Now and in the future.
I pray that I may one day understand.
I pray that one day I may push past the hurt.
I pray that one day I may fully accept this.
Until that day, I pray for Your strength and understanding.
Please stay by my side and guide me.
Please help me to do what it is I need to do.
Please help me to see the way You see.
March 3, 2015
I Am a Terrible, Horrible Mother
I'll admit it: I am a terrible, horrible mother. I am mean. I am lazy. I do what is needed rather than what is wanted, most of the time. I say "no." Here is a list of things that make me terrible and horrible and reasons why I do them:
I let my Squid, who is 6 months old, watch TV, especially while I do dishes or make dinner (or other food) in the kitchen adjacent to the living room. We watch TV and movies together, sometimes with daddy FATMAN! too. In fact, we watch a few hours of TV a day most days. I let Squid watch TV because it calms him and sometimes it is the only thing that will calm and put him to sleep. But we don't just watch anything. I choose educational shows for him to watch. We watch Super Why!, Jake and the Neverland Pirates, Busytown Mysteries, and other age appropriate and educational shows. The one show that he did watch that wasn't educational was The New Woody Woodpecker Show, which is just as funny as the original.
I suck my Squid's brains out. And what I mean by that is I suck out the mucus from his nose. Most mothers dread doing it so much that they end up not doing it and letting their child suffer. I pin Squid down a couple of times a week (daily when he was younger) and suck and suck and suck until I get something out of his nose. I do this, even though the Squid does not like it one bit, because I would rather have my son be uncomfortable and suffer for just a moment rather than uncomfortable and suffer all the time because he can't breathe.
Sleeping babies make peaceful babies and happy mothers. But I wake up my son. Mostly to stick to the schedule that I have laid out for him, but also so that I can sleep. If the Squid sleeps all day long, he won't sleep during the night, which means I won't be able to sleep. Mothers of newborns are told to sleep when their baby is sleeping, but I have never been able to do that. Sleeping during the day is hard for me. Heck, sleeping at night is hard for me. So I wake up my son to change, feed, and play with him until he is ready for a nap again. The more he is awake during the day, the more he will sleep at night. And the more he sleeps at night, the more I sleep at night and am happier in the morning.
I have kept electronics such as remotes, phones, laptops, etc. away from my son. I tell him no when he reaches out for one, not that he fully understands right now. I look around everywhere I go and find infants and toddlers playing and fully operating a smart phone or tablet, including my nephews. I don't want my son to be 18 months old and operating my smart phone or the TV without needing my help. We are so reliant on technology that we have forgotten what it is like to play with a simple toy, a stuffed animal, or to even go outside and play. My dad was at a convention recently and saw a 5 year old with her own smart phone. Since when did children need their own phone, let alone a smart phone? I want my son and any other children I have to love and enjoy the simple things in life, including their toys.
I don't always immediately jump up and rush over to Squid every time he cries. It's not that I don't care. I care terribly about my son. But I don't jump up every time he cries because sometimes he doesn't need me. He whimpers and cries out in his sleep sometimes and if I were to immediately jump out of bed and rush to care for him I would wake him up, which I don't want to do. Sometimes he is crying because he wants more attention. He loves to be held and he gets spoiled whenever we go see grandma and grandpa. I can't hold him all the time because I have a bad back and he would never progress and grow. If I held him all the he definitely would be happier, but he wouldn't learn to sit (which he finally is doing on his own), crawl, or walk. Sometimes I let him cry because I have already done everything and I am frustrated and don't know what else to do. Sometimes babies just need to cry. So, often, I let him cry a couple of times to see if he will calm down on his own.
Lately, I have been working on teaching the Squid to fall asleep on his own and not in my arms. I love snuggling with my Squid, especially when he is asleep and not wiggling around and trying to scratch my eyes out (okay... not literally), but I don't want him to rely on being held and rocked to fall asleep when he's 10 years old. So, during nap times when he is having issues falling asleep, I will hold and rock him for a little bit, but as soon as he is showing signs of starting to fall asleep, I put him down in his crib or swing. Sometimes, in the middle of the day if he hasn't gone down for his nap and is wide awake, I will put him in his crib just to see if he will calm down and sleep. Sometimes it works, sometimes it doesn't, but it teaches Squid to be a little independent.
I may be a terrible, horrible mother, but I have reasons behind why I do what I do; the biggest one being I want my child to grow and be his best self.
I let my Squid, who is 6 months old, watch TV, especially while I do dishes or make dinner (or other food) in the kitchen adjacent to the living room. We watch TV and movies together, sometimes with daddy FATMAN! too. In fact, we watch a few hours of TV a day most days. I let Squid watch TV because it calms him and sometimes it is the only thing that will calm and put him to sleep. But we don't just watch anything. I choose educational shows for him to watch. We watch Super Why!, Jake and the Neverland Pirates, Busytown Mysteries, and other age appropriate and educational shows. The one show that he did watch that wasn't educational was The New Woody Woodpecker Show, which is just as funny as the original.
I suck my Squid's brains out. And what I mean by that is I suck out the mucus from his nose. Most mothers dread doing it so much that they end up not doing it and letting their child suffer. I pin Squid down a couple of times a week (daily when he was younger) and suck and suck and suck until I get something out of his nose. I do this, even though the Squid does not like it one bit, because I would rather have my son be uncomfortable and suffer for just a moment rather than uncomfortable and suffer all the time because he can't breathe.
Sleeping babies make peaceful babies and happy mothers. But I wake up my son. Mostly to stick to the schedule that I have laid out for him, but also so that I can sleep. If the Squid sleeps all day long, he won't sleep during the night, which means I won't be able to sleep. Mothers of newborns are told to sleep when their baby is sleeping, but I have never been able to do that. Sleeping during the day is hard for me. Heck, sleeping at night is hard for me. So I wake up my son to change, feed, and play with him until he is ready for a nap again. The more he is awake during the day, the more he will sleep at night. And the more he sleeps at night, the more I sleep at night and am happier in the morning.
I have kept electronics such as remotes, phones, laptops, etc. away from my son. I tell him no when he reaches out for one, not that he fully understands right now. I look around everywhere I go and find infants and toddlers playing and fully operating a smart phone or tablet, including my nephews. I don't want my son to be 18 months old and operating my smart phone or the TV without needing my help. We are so reliant on technology that we have forgotten what it is like to play with a simple toy, a stuffed animal, or to even go outside and play. My dad was at a convention recently and saw a 5 year old with her own smart phone. Since when did children need their own phone, let alone a smart phone? I want my son and any other children I have to love and enjoy the simple things in life, including their toys.
I don't always immediately jump up and rush over to Squid every time he cries. It's not that I don't care. I care terribly about my son. But I don't jump up every time he cries because sometimes he doesn't need me. He whimpers and cries out in his sleep sometimes and if I were to immediately jump out of bed and rush to care for him I would wake him up, which I don't want to do. Sometimes he is crying because he wants more attention. He loves to be held and he gets spoiled whenever we go see grandma and grandpa. I can't hold him all the time because I have a bad back and he would never progress and grow. If I held him all the he definitely would be happier, but he wouldn't learn to sit (which he finally is doing on his own), crawl, or walk. Sometimes I let him cry because I have already done everything and I am frustrated and don't know what else to do. Sometimes babies just need to cry. So, often, I let him cry a couple of times to see if he will calm down on his own.
Lately, I have been working on teaching the Squid to fall asleep on his own and not in my arms. I love snuggling with my Squid, especially when he is asleep and not wiggling around and trying to scratch my eyes out (okay... not literally), but I don't want him to rely on being held and rocked to fall asleep when he's 10 years old. So, during nap times when he is having issues falling asleep, I will hold and rock him for a little bit, but as soon as he is showing signs of starting to fall asleep, I put him down in his crib or swing. Sometimes, in the middle of the day if he hasn't gone down for his nap and is wide awake, I will put him in his crib just to see if he will calm down and sleep. Sometimes it works, sometimes it doesn't, but it teaches Squid to be a little independent.
I may be a terrible, horrible mother, but I have reasons behind why I do what I do; the biggest one being I want my child to grow and be his best self.
February 24, 2015
My Baby Still Hasn't Pooped and Other Frustrations of a New Mom
Let me preface that this was my answer to a question FATMAN! asked me the other day. To help with conversation at dinner and to make our marriage stronger, I printed out some random questions and stuck them in a jar. Every night one of us chooses a question (or two) and we talk about it. The other day the question was, "If you had to write a paper about your day, what would the title be?" FATMAN! liked my answer so much that he suggested that it be the title of my next blog post.
My poor Squid has been struggling with constipation on and off for the past couple of months. And it seems like this time is worse than any other instance. Nothing seems to help. Normally I would go to the doctor, but every time I go to make an appointment or go to an already scheduled appointment, he explodes! So I haven't called the doctor... yet. But I have tried pumping his legs, giving him a tiny bit of juice, essential oils, tummy massages, every solution I have found online and nothing. I have even started him on solids early to see if fruits and vegetables would help. But still nothing! (No, I have not tried prunes yet because Grandma and Grandpa, who bought the solid food, couldn't find any and I have yet to go to the store since coming home from my last trip.) It is so heartbreaking to watch my son grunt and push and grunt and groan and push and cry and have nothing come out, especially since everything I have done has not helped at all.
One thing that has been beyond frustrating for me is that Squid won't stick to a schedule. {Enter angry scream here} When we moved right after he was born, I did my very, very best to get the Squid on a schedule so that I would have time to help out around the house while he slept. Though it took some time, after a couple of weeks I got him on a reliable schedule and I did my best to help with chores and such. But ever since we got back from Christmas vacation he hasn't be very reliable. He's only slept a few minutes here and there rather than sleeping for at least an hour during every nap time. He sleeps right after eating rather than waiting a while. The only thing that has been consistent is when he eats and that is only because I actually have control over that. Maybe it's the teething. Maybe it's the constipation. Maybe it's the fact that he was constantly passed around all day long during vacation and hardly had the chance to stick to the schedule. Maybe he's simply growing out of naps. I don't know what's going on with him, but it has proven difficult these past couple months or so to get anything done around the house. (It's a miracle sometimes to post here every week.)
Oh, the loveliness of teeth. Unless you are a teething baby. In that case, teeth are your worse nightmare, after being pushed and pushed out of a hole you don't fit through. The Squid has been teething for about a month (for sure) and has had his ups and downs. He now has a tooth just covered by a thin layer of gums just waiting to cut through at any moment. He has been doing extremely well with the amount of discomfort new teeth can be. He loves putting whatever he can get his hands on into his mouth and gnaw on it, fingers (anyone's), thumb, pacifier, teething right, blanket, burp cloth, etc. It all goes in the mouth.
And because everything goes in his mouth, there is soooo much drool! Drool all over his hands (which then makes them cold), all down his front, on his legs from leaning forward, all over FATMAN! and myself, everywhere! It's a wonder he hasn't drowned himself with so much drool.
Of all the frustrations that have come with being a mother the worse of them all is that I don't always know what my sweet Squid needs and he can't tell me. Most of the time I can tell what it is that is bothering him, but lately I feel so out of tuned that I question every day if I'm a good mother. But then I do something to make him smile or giggle and I am reassured once again that I am a good mother.
No one has ever said that motherhood is easy. Only that it is worth the remarkable rewards.
*UPDATE* The Squid has pooped, but he still struggles and it breaks my heart even more so.
My poor Squid has been struggling with constipation on and off for the past couple of months. And it seems like this time is worse than any other instance. Nothing seems to help. Normally I would go to the doctor, but every time I go to make an appointment or go to an already scheduled appointment, he explodes! So I haven't called the doctor... yet. But I have tried pumping his legs, giving him a tiny bit of juice, essential oils, tummy massages, every solution I have found online and nothing. I have even started him on solids early to see if fruits and vegetables would help. But still nothing! (No, I have not tried prunes yet because Grandma and Grandpa, who bought the solid food, couldn't find any and I have yet to go to the store since coming home from my last trip.) It is so heartbreaking to watch my son grunt and push and grunt and groan and push and cry and have nothing come out, especially since everything I have done has not helped at all.
One thing that has been beyond frustrating for me is that Squid won't stick to a schedule. {Enter angry scream here} When we moved right after he was born, I did my very, very best to get the Squid on a schedule so that I would have time to help out around the house while he slept. Though it took some time, after a couple of weeks I got him on a reliable schedule and I did my best to help with chores and such. But ever since we got back from Christmas vacation he hasn't be very reliable. He's only slept a few minutes here and there rather than sleeping for at least an hour during every nap time. He sleeps right after eating rather than waiting a while. The only thing that has been consistent is when he eats and that is only because I actually have control over that. Maybe it's the teething. Maybe it's the constipation. Maybe it's the fact that he was constantly passed around all day long during vacation and hardly had the chance to stick to the schedule. Maybe he's simply growing out of naps. I don't know what's going on with him, but it has proven difficult these past couple months or so to get anything done around the house. (It's a miracle sometimes to post here every week.)
Oh, the loveliness of teeth. Unless you are a teething baby. In that case, teeth are your worse nightmare, after being pushed and pushed out of a hole you don't fit through. The Squid has been teething for about a month (for sure) and has had his ups and downs. He now has a tooth just covered by a thin layer of gums just waiting to cut through at any moment. He has been doing extremely well with the amount of discomfort new teeth can be. He loves putting whatever he can get his hands on into his mouth and gnaw on it, fingers (anyone's), thumb, pacifier, teething right, blanket, burp cloth, etc. It all goes in the mouth.
And because everything goes in his mouth, there is soooo much drool! Drool all over his hands (which then makes them cold), all down his front, on his legs from leaning forward, all over FATMAN! and myself, everywhere! It's a wonder he hasn't drowned himself with so much drool.
Of all the frustrations that have come with being a mother the worse of them all is that I don't always know what my sweet Squid needs and he can't tell me. Most of the time I can tell what it is that is bothering him, but lately I feel so out of tuned that I question every day if I'm a good mother. But then I do something to make him smile or giggle and I am reassured once again that I am a good mother.
No one has ever said that motherhood is easy. Only that it is worth the remarkable rewards.
*UPDATE* The Squid has pooped, but he still struggles and it breaks my heart even more so.
February 18, 2015
I Guess I'm Joining the War
There is a war going about on social media about vaccinating our children, especially after the recent measle outbreak at Disneyland. I don't want to offend anyone for their decision and I'm definitely not calling anyone out either. I simply want to share my views and what I believe.
I am a firm believer in vaccinating. I am vaccinated. FATMAN! is vaccinated. The Squid is vaccinated. As far as I am aware, my entire family is vaccinated. My future children will be vaccinated. And the reasoning behind my choosing to vaccinate is quite simple:
I love and want my children.
And because of that one and simple reason I will be doing everything I can to make sure I see my children grow up. Which means I will do what I can to prevent my children from getting sick. Which means I will be vaccinating my children.
Vaccines were created to prevent diseases that were killing very young children. Thousands of children died each year from diseases because there were no cure or prevention. And all the parents were left to do was to bury their child and hope that the next one would survive. A lot of these diseases that used to kill so easily didn't attack quick and swiftly. Most of them killed their victims slowly and painfully. It's one thing to lose a child, but it is completely a different thing to have to watch them suffer too. I'm a mother now and I can't even imagine what it would be like to not only lose my Squid but to also watch him suffer. I cringe and feel horrible having to watch him struggle with constipation.
Vaccines are a miracle. A child can live past his/her fifth birthday and go on to grow up without his/her parents worrying about dying from a horrible disease or becoming crippled or any other outcome. We as parents don't have to worry about polio, chicken pox, measles, rubella, or any other disease. We can by pass it all with a vaccine and save our children and ourselves.
Yes, vaccines have been known to come with side effects, but they don't last. I would rather care for my child while enduring any side effect that may happen than to care for my child while he is dying from a disease I could have prevented. The more people are vaccinated, the less likely of spreading of any disease. The more people vaccinated, the more people survive.
A Canadian mother is furious because of people not vaccinating their children. She received a call from her pediatrician office saying that her 15 day old son may have been exposed to measles. She then was instructed to look for signs and to bring him in as soon as any symptoms arose. She then went to Facebook and posted about her frustrations:
https://www.facebook.com/jennifer.hibbenwhite/posts/10155168515065632:0
I have to agree with her. I honestly don't know what I would have done if I had gotten a call like that, but I know that I would be just as mad if not more so than her. Why would anyone risk killing their child?
I am LDS and recently I read an article about what our leaders have said about vaccinating our children. Here is the link to the article:
http://ldsliving.com/story/78000-church-leaders-on-child-immunization
These statements that have been made by our prophets just solidifies that I have made the right choice to be vaccinated and to vaccinate my children. It also adds to my testimony that they are the true leaders of our church and that what they teach comes from God, who loves me and is watching out for me and those I love. What more proof do I need?
I know that the choice to vaccinate is just that: a choice. It is not to be forced. It is not a reason to be punished. It is not mine to make for you. But from one mother who loves her Squid more than anything else, I want my child to live and to grow up healthy and strong. I will do whatever it takes to make that happen. That is why I have chosen to vaccinate. Whatever your reasons for or against, that is YOUR choice and I would much appreciate it if you would not shove your beliefs/thoughts down my throat or make me feel like a bad person for choosing differently than you and for you to respect my choice. I will show the same respect, but only if it is earned. I love my child. Don't you?
To see the links, you will have to copy and paste the web addresses into your search bar.
I am a firm believer in vaccinating. I am vaccinated. FATMAN! is vaccinated. The Squid is vaccinated. As far as I am aware, my entire family is vaccinated. My future children will be vaccinated. And the reasoning behind my choosing to vaccinate is quite simple:
I love and want my children.
And because of that one and simple reason I will be doing everything I can to make sure I see my children grow up. Which means I will do what I can to prevent my children from getting sick. Which means I will be vaccinating my children.
Vaccines were created to prevent diseases that were killing very young children. Thousands of children died each year from diseases because there were no cure or prevention. And all the parents were left to do was to bury their child and hope that the next one would survive. A lot of these diseases that used to kill so easily didn't attack quick and swiftly. Most of them killed their victims slowly and painfully. It's one thing to lose a child, but it is completely a different thing to have to watch them suffer too. I'm a mother now and I can't even imagine what it would be like to not only lose my Squid but to also watch him suffer. I cringe and feel horrible having to watch him struggle with constipation.
Vaccines are a miracle. A child can live past his/her fifth birthday and go on to grow up without his/her parents worrying about dying from a horrible disease or becoming crippled or any other outcome. We as parents don't have to worry about polio, chicken pox, measles, rubella, or any other disease. We can by pass it all with a vaccine and save our children and ourselves.
Yes, vaccines have been known to come with side effects, but they don't last. I would rather care for my child while enduring any side effect that may happen than to care for my child while he is dying from a disease I could have prevented. The more people are vaccinated, the less likely of spreading of any disease. The more people vaccinated, the more people survive.
A Canadian mother is furious because of people not vaccinating their children. She received a call from her pediatrician office saying that her 15 day old son may have been exposed to measles. She then was instructed to look for signs and to bring him in as soon as any symptoms arose. She then went to Facebook and posted about her frustrations:
https://www.facebook.com/jennifer.hibbenwhite/posts/10155168515065632:0
I have to agree with her. I honestly don't know what I would have done if I had gotten a call like that, but I know that I would be just as mad if not more so than her. Why would anyone risk killing their child?
I am LDS and recently I read an article about what our leaders have said about vaccinating our children. Here is the link to the article:
http://ldsliving.com/story/78000-church-leaders-on-child-immunization
These statements that have been made by our prophets just solidifies that I have made the right choice to be vaccinated and to vaccinate my children. It also adds to my testimony that they are the true leaders of our church and that what they teach comes from God, who loves me and is watching out for me and those I love. What more proof do I need?
I know that the choice to vaccinate is just that: a choice. It is not to be forced. It is not a reason to be punished. It is not mine to make for you. But from one mother who loves her Squid more than anything else, I want my child to live and to grow up healthy and strong. I will do whatever it takes to make that happen. That is why I have chosen to vaccinate. Whatever your reasons for or against, that is YOUR choice and I would much appreciate it if you would not shove your beliefs/thoughts down my throat or make me feel like a bad person for choosing differently than you and for you to respect my choice. I will show the same respect, but only if it is earned. I love my child. Don't you?
To see the links, you will have to copy and paste the web addresses into your search bar.
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