The #1 Situation to Keep Your Mouth Shut

I'm going to warn all readers now that this is a rant. I'm also going to be talking about some things that are hard to talk about and it is not my intention to insult, hurt, or burden. 

I am currently pregnant, due with my third boy in December. I don't like attention, especially when I'm pregnant, but somehow I am yet the blinding beacon wherever I go and all anyone can talk with me about is my pregnancy.

And I HATE IT!

There is so much more to me than motherhood and pregnancy. If there wasn't then I don't know how I ever made friends or met and married FATMAN before becoming a mother. I wish people would just stop seeing me as "pregnant" or "mother". 

Especially since people seem to think they can just say and do whatever they want without thinking about the hurt they may cause. There are many trials that pregnant women go through without anyone else's input or comments. (Then again we women in general go through so much without anyone else's input or comments, but that's a different post.) I've been holding in my anger, hurt, and frustration for far too long.

From the moment I found out I was pregnant, I yearned for a girl. Not because I'm already out numbered or because I want to do all the girly things (God knows I'm not that kind of female). I wanted a girl because I wanted something different. That's all. Just something a little different. So when I saw that baby #3 is a boy, yes, I was devastated and heartbroken, because I had let my hopes up. Later that same day, when I announced the gender, I can't tell you how many times people commented with "He will be just as loved." OF COURSE HE WILL BE LOVED! It's not like I'm going to give him away or get rid of him just because he's a boy! I prayed and prayed and prayed for this child for a year! A YEAR! My other two pregnancies happened so fast that I was starting to get scared that I wouldn't be able to have any more of my own. And that fear became even more so after I miscarried. So yes, he will be loved, but there was no need to say that. That comment (which I still get today) has hurt the most.

The other comment that has hurt more than others is "You can always try again" or "Your next one will be a girl." People hear me out hear me now: IF I get pregnant again is NONE OF YOUR BUSINESS! My sex life is NONE OF YOUR BUSINESS! Where your business and pregnancy are a common concern is with your own body. Stop meddling where you aren't to be meddling. Do you know how much heartache I went through month after month with each test? When you try for something and things don't go "according to plan," you get sad. When things don't go "according to plan" time and time again, you get depressed, angry, scared, anxious, worried, and, most of all, hurt. My heart broke each month when I was "late" and the test came back negative. I can not go through that heartache again. But me getting pregnant is NONE OF YOUR BUSINESS! So stay out of it!

"At least you're all set on clothes." No, actually. I'm not. For two main reasons. When we moved from Wyoming to Utah, we got rid of a lot of unnecessary items, including most baby items and clothes. We didn't need them at the time so we donated or sold what we weren't using to make room in the truck and to make more room in our new home. A lot of baby items are not collapsible and take up a lot of space that can be used more wisely, including boxes of baby clothes. Also, my other sons are summer babies. This one is going to be a winter baby. Even if I did still have all of those clothes, they would be the wrong kind. Too cold in the winter and too warm in the summer. 

There have also been so many comments on how tiny I am. Some of them have been made in awe, some in jealousy, but most in unbelief and almost concern. Yes, I have been able to stay fit and not put on as much weight (so far) in this pregnancy. I was in a musical this summer, starting rehearsals right after I got the positive tests. I was dancing, walking, and working out all summer (with caution). Even with my first pregnancy, I ballooned and looked pregnant from early on and put on a lot of weight. I am so happy and proud that I have been able to keep my weight gain under control this time around and that I am small. BUT what so many don't understand is that because I haven't put on as much weight this time around, I have other physical issues. My body hurts even more this pregnancy, because my belly is all baby and my belly is heavy. My belly pulls in all directions and hurts my ribs, hips, and back. It feels like I'm carrying around a 20 lb medicine ball all day, every day. I move slower and slower every day, it's hard to get up off the couch or a chair or out of bed, and I have the worse case of acid reflux. I had heart burn with my other two boys, but this is so much worse and it will only get worse until after the baby comes. 

And while we are talking about physical things, DO NOT TOUCH A PREGNANT BELLY! If you didn't put it there, you do not touch. Don't even ask. Don't even think about it. Just. Don't. It's awkward enough that we have to carry around this big heavy belly, don't make it more awkward by touching. 

Honestly, there is so much more I want to talk about but I feel like I'd get nowhere. Please keep all comments to yourself, even if they are well intended. You have no idea how your comment may come across because you don't know the whole story. 

One last topic. Pregnancy is a very touchy subject because so many women struggle. I am guilty of saying some thoughtless comments myself and I can't take them back. Before saying anything to anyone about pregnancy, miscarriage, abortion, fertility, etc., please stop and don't say it. Better to be a silent supporter or comforter, than one more person who said something without thinking. Every pregnancy is different. Every miscarriage is different. Every story is different. Don't assume that you know the right thing to say. 

Dear Bully

Dear bully, 

I'm sorry that you feel threatened by me. 
I am sorry that you blame me for a lot of your problems. 
I'm sorry that you think my life is perfect and yours isn't. (My life is far from ideal let alone perfect.)
I'm sorry that you don't feel comfortable coming to me about things I "have done" to you. 
I'm sorry you feel like I don't love you. 

But the fact is this: I don't love you. 
I don't even like you. 
But for the sake of many, I tolerate you and do my best to not cause more problems or hurt. 
When you are nearby, I paint on a smile and pretend that everything is fine. 

The truth: It's not fine. 
You have hurt me!
You have hurt my family!
You have taken too little time to get to know me.
You don't know who I am. 
You don't know my likes and dislikes. 
You just know the protector and defender side of me, which you call bullying and other names. 

I have tried to get to know you.
I have tried to be nice. 
I have come to events to support you and your family. 
I reached out to you when you were going through a hard time, but you turned me away.
I have even begged for your forgiveness for what I have done to you. 
I have forgiven you, even when you haven't apologized.

And yet, you still attack me.
You still call me names.
You still say I'm the reason for your hardship.
You still ignore me.
You still glare at me when we are together. 
You still talk about me behind my back as if I would never find out. 
You post about me on social media, thinking that because we aren't "friends" I won't hear about it. 
You still complain about me to your spouse. 
You still say that I am hurting you, even though I'm not doing anything. 

I'm sorry our relationship has become what it is now. 
I always hoped that we could lean on each other and help each other. 
I hoped that we would become sisters because I never had an older sister to help and guide me. 
I hoped that we would share favorite movies, books, music, clothes, etc. 
I hoped that we would have our kids grow up together and share funny stories later in life.  

But it is not to be.
Because you have hurt me and held onto a pointless, unhealthy grudge.

You probably will never see this.
But if you do, my wish is that you will let your hatred go. 
Let go of the hurt. 
Open up to me.
Be open up to the possibility that I'm not who you think I am in your mind.
I understand you are hurting and struggling. 
Let me help. 

I never meant to hurt you.
I still don't mean to hurt you.
But you have hurt me and continue to do so. 

And so I say, I'm sorry.
I'm sorry for you.

Sincerely,
Me

Who Rescued Who?

I know I haven't posted anything in a long time and that's because I don't have time to write.
I have a lot of different posts coming, it's just a matter of finding the time. 
Luckily, this morning I have some. 

A little over a month ago, my family and I adopted an elderly chihuahua.
She used to belong to an elderly woman. 
When this woman was put into a nursing home, Lucy was abandoned. 
She was later found by a great organization near me. 
I met Lucy in July at our local Petco and immediately fell in love with her. 
So I started saving so I could adopt her. 
My hope was that she would serve as a companion to me since FATMAN! works all day long and I still struggle with PTSD. 

In October, on my anniversary, Lucy became ours!
She has been an absolute blessing!
Every time I start having any kind of trouble, she comes over and lays next to me. 
If I don't immediately show her some attention, she forces herself onto my lap. 
Not only has she been a great companion and emotional support, the spirit she brings is calming as well. 
She's older so she mostly sleeps during the day, but she's always tentative and aware.

And the boys love her too. 

Every day I wonder what I did to be so blessed to have such an amazing spirit come and rescue me. 

Early Morning Thoughts on the Couch

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. 

Today Was a Bad Day

Today was a bad day.

Today I almost didn't get out of bed.

Today I yelled at my kids.
Today I was exhausted beyond belief from lack of sleep.

Today I sat on the couch and played on my phone.

Today I didn't want to hold my baby.

Today I had thoughts that I am ashamed of.

Today I didn't care if my toddler threw a fit.

Today I just let my baby scream.

Today I wanted nothing more than to just go back to bed.

Today I felt nothing.

Today I felt anger.

Today I just wanted to scream.
Today I have barely eaten.

Today I didn't want to be a mom.

Today I wanted my old life.

Today I wanted to run away.

Today I hid myself.

Today I didn't care about anything.

Today I cried.

Today my demons got the better of me.

Today was a bad day.

But tomorrow is a new day!

Tomorrow I have the chance to be better than I was today.

Tomorrow can be completely different.

Tomorrow hasn't been stained with negativity yet.

Tomorrow is a clean slate.

Tomorrow is a new chance.

Tomorrow could be a good day.

Tomorrow could be a great day!

Tomorrow I could defeat my demons.

Tomorrow I could be happy.

Tomorrow is a new day.

As you know, I recently gave birth to my second son. And as many of you know, with my first son I got hit with a mild case of postpartum depression when he turned 8 months old. I wish I could say the same thing again, but I'd be lying. This time around it's hit me much earlier and harder. But this time around I have gotten help sooner. I still have my bad days, but I can handle them a little bit easier. I just have to keep reminding myself that if today is a bad day, if yesterday was a bad day, if I've had many bad days in a row, tomorrow is a new day to try again. 

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. 

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. 

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. 

Shout Out to Single Moms

I would like to give a big shout out to all of the single moms out there. No matter what you may think, as long as you still have your children and they are fed and clothed, you are doing a great job. 

Every once in a while, FATMAN! has to go away for work and I become a single mom temporarily. But let me tell you, those few days that he is gone are the longest and hardest days of my life! And I can't even imagine what those who are definitely single moms go through all the time. It's hard! Especially with more than just the Squid now (we got a puppy).

So if you are a single mom by choice, by happenstance, by accident, because your spouse is military or works another job where he is away a lot of the time, or because you just haven't found the right guy, don't give up. You may not be the most energetic, well put together, organized, clean, heck, I'll even put presentable out there, but you are doing what you can, right? And if you are doing all that you can just to take care of and provide for your child(ren), that's all that matters and they will thank you for it one day. If you are a single mom and energetic, well put together, organized, clean, and presentable all the time, you need to share your secrets. 

I may not be a single mom all the time, but the times that FATMAN! is away makes me appreciate all you women who are making it work on your own. Go you! Keep going. You are strong, even when you feel the weakest. Keep fighting for your kids, because they make this life worth it. 

Love is the Key

This isn't a complaint. It's just some thoughts I have had on a topic that FATMAN! and I have talked about a lot. 

There's the saying, "You only hurt the ones you love." 

Why is that?

FATMAN! and I have had a conversation about this quite often. I think the answer is simple: You only hurt the ones you love because they care. The people you don't love, and therefore they don't love you, don't care because they don't care about you or what you do or say. 

I think it truly is that simple. 

So then, why do we hurt the ones we love? Why is it that we are hurting others? A lot of the time it's completely unintentional. It's saying or doing the wrong thing without realizing that it may be offensive. And at those times there's nothing you can do except to apologize afterwards. But what about when you purposefully hurt those you love? What happens then?

I have known of families who were divided because of at least one person who stuck their nose where it shouldn't have been and purposefully hurt their family. I would be lying if I said I have never done that. But what has happened to those families? They never see each other. They never get together and share stories, meals, laughter, or time together. Cousins never meet each other. Aunts and uncles never meet nieces and nephews. Grandparents only see certain grandchildren at certain times. But the biggest thing that happens is that there is no love being shared in the family. 

Love is the key. This is my mother-in-law's life motto (more or less) and FATMAN! has had many conversations with her about this phrase. There are many, many meanings behind the phrase and I'm sure that there are more to be discovered in the future. But the bottom line is Love is the key! To everything! Especially family. Without love, there is no family. Just people who carry the same blood who don't care about each other. Love is what truly ties a family together. 

This holiday season, let's please remember our families and how much we are grateful for and love them. I know I have said and done some nasty things in the past to my family members, but I truly am grateful for and love each and every one of my family members. I am not perfect and I am making my amends. But if there is one thing that I want my family to know is that I love them and am always thinking of them. 

My Month of Chaos!

Since my last actual post, I have moved, started a new business, the Squid has turned a year old, FATMAN! went on a week long business trip, I have thrown a birthday party, started to unpack a house, the Squid has turned into more than a handful, and I have no idea how I'm still alive and mostly sane! Let me tell you it wasn't easy and I definitely wanted to give up or explode at everyone around me many times. 

So let's start at the beginning when it all started. At the beginning of August, FATMAN! and I finally made a decision of when we were going to finish fixing up and move into our new house. We had closed on the house at the end of June and over a month later were still not moved into it. There were walls, cabinets, and closets that needed painting, lights and fixtures that needed replacing, vents installed, doors fixed, and all around cleaning that need to be done before we could move in. We had a list of about 20 things that needed to be done before we could move in and live in the house (it was built in the '70's and still had many of the original features that were not up to code). We only did about half of the items on our list before we moved in, only because we were so tired of waiting and having to deal with our awful neighbors. So, we set a date to move in... and then we had to change it again because of a wedding... and then again because of paint fumes.... and then we FINALLY MOVED IN the Saturday before FATMAN! had to leave for almost an entire week for business, which was also the Saturday before Squid's birthday party. So for the first week in our new house, I was alone with the Squid. Now, it wouldn't have been as bad if our house was newer than it is. This house makes sooooo much noise and creaks and shifts with every little wind that hits it (and we have a lot of wind here) that I didn't sleep the first two nights FATMAN! was gone. It was scary being in a new environment all alone and not knowing anyone who lived by me. Thank goodness for church and birthday activities to get me out of the house every once in a while! 

Also in August, right before moving into the new house, I became a direct sales consultant with a new and growing company. (But I'll go more into that in another post later.) But having to start my training and selling while trying to pack and move and while taking care of an almost one year old is borderline psychotic! I didn't do a lot with my new job while we packed and moved, but I did start training. When you have to split your free time while baby naps between training and packing, you get worn out quickly and don't want to do anything by the time baby's bedtime comes around. As soon as the Squid was down for the night, I usually just sat and watched TV until I couldn't stay awake any longer. 

Right after moving into the new house and while FATMAN! was on his business trip, the Squid turned one! YAY! The two of us didn't do much the day of his birthday, but that weekend was full of fun and family. Family started showing up Friday night and it was great to just sit around and talk and share stories and relax before the chaos started. I am so grateful that we still had our apartment in our name so that I could have enough room for everyone to stay without cramming in our little house and without forcing everyone to get a hotel. It was helpful to me that I didn't have to worry about everyone staying warm or cool enough during the night, having enough food for everyone for every meal, etc. However, when Saturday rolled around I wish I had planned better and had someone to do the catering for the Squid's party. I loved that my family was willing to help with anything I ask them too, but it's hard when everyone is asking JUST ME what they can help with while I'm trying to do all that only I could or wanted to do. I made a monkey cake for the party and I was trying to get it decorated when everyone kept asking me what they could do to help, needing me to come look at things, needing me to take care of other things, trying to have a conversation with me, etc. FATMAN! was working on the grill (after mowing the lawn). That's it! Just standing and making sure that the food didn't burn. I have no idea why everyone had to come to me for every tiny little thing. So the cake didn't turn out the way I wanted it to. It still looked good and I am grateful for my dad helping out with it, but I wish I had had uninterrupted time just to work on it and have it turn out better. But as soon as the party started, everything was somewhat better. Everyone served themselves, we all sat around and talked and laughed at Squid and his cuteness. It was great. I wish I had been able to take pictures so that I wouldn't have to wait for everyone else to send me the pictures they took. I wish I had planned the decorations a little better. I wish... I wish... I wish... But I can't go back and change the past and it's not like the party was a disaster. It just didn't go as well as I had hoped. 

There are a few more little things that happened during August, but they aren't as crazy as the stories I just shared. I'm so happy that it is now September and that I can start with a blank calendar (not as blank anymore) and have some control over my life again. Now if only I can get Squid to stay in one spot for more than 10 seconds.....

Vacation! Whoo hoo!

For the first time since before giving birth to my beautiful Squid, I got a vacation. FATMAN! and I got away for a few nights to reconnect and not have the distraction nor interruption of having to take care of the Squid. I am extremely grateful to my parents for allowing us the vacation that we were very much in need of. 

We honestly didn't do a lot on our vacation. We did a bit of shopping that we can't do at home and relaxed in the hotel room and didn't worry about a thing. We also went to my best friend's wedding that was the same weekend. We didn't do much, but what we did do was spend time together. 

FATMAN! works long hours during the day. When he gets home, all I want is a break from the Squid and have some time to myself. Or on the days when he works later, as soon as he gets home it's bath and bedtime for Squid and then we only have about an hour until we go to bed. We really only get time together on the weekends (when he doesn't work) and we spend that time running errands and take care of Squid. So, we don't get very much time together and FATMAN! and Squid don't get very much time together, either. Also, because of the long hours that FATMAN! works, when we do have time together, we use it to discuss important things... which sometimes leads to bickering. As of late, we have not been in sync as often as we were when we were first married.

Don't get me wrong. I am extremely grateful for FATMAN!'s job and his willingness to work. And I am enjoying being a stay at home mom. But I miss being a great wife. It's hard having to split my time and attention between two boys who need me to survive. I miss having some time to work on my projects. There's always naptime, but I try my best to use that time to work on chores (which, I'll admit, I'm not the best at it) or on other important things that need my attention. Then when FATMAN! comes home, he needs my attention too or I hand Squid off to him while I work on something that needs immediate help. I hardly get any time to myself. (Yes, I know that's what I signed up for when I became a mom.)

This vacation was exactly what I needed. I needed some time with my FATMAN! and to relax and to not worry about anything other than the wedding (because I was a part of it). I was able to take some to focus on just one thing and it was the best thing that could have happened to my marriage. I was able to focus on FATMAN! and what he needed from me and he was able to focus on me. All we needed was each other. 

And we couldn't have ended it any better. All three of us, my mom, and my brother went to the newly remodeled aquarium. It was amazing! And the Squid absolutely loved the fish! It was so cute seeing his face light up and hear him "ooh" with each new exhibit. It truly was the best way to ended a much needed, great vacation. 

I highly recommend taking a vacation occasionally just to reconnect with yourself, your significant other, life, and/or your sanity. Vacations are good.