I don't think I can NOT have another one of these, and Holy shite it's cold

When I look at things like this I want to weep at the beauty, and I wonder if I can truly live with never having another baby ever again. I don't know if I can.

And then I spend a few hours with L and his little Terrible Three self while trying to take care of Baby C's needs also, and I am plummeted back into the reality that those cute, sweet, precious little babies don't stay that way forever. That they become a LOT more work as they get older. That they talk back, disobey, hit their baby brother, and get REALLY needy and whiny.

But seriously. Thinking that Baby C may be it for us and that I may never hold another newborn (of my own) to my breast makes me want to weep, too. And then weep and weep some more.

(And for the record, L is actually a really good boy. He has moments, but they are, for the most part, few and far between. And as I said the other day - I love him beyond measure and wouldn't change a thing!)

And also - HOLY SHITE it's cold. The last few mornings we have woken up to -20 degree temps, with daytime temps hovering around 0. I know it's winter, but this is just TOO cold. I was driving to my friends house yesterday morning, and hit an area that was -24. What the fuck.

More saddness

Everyone always says they don't care what sex the baby is, as long as the baby is healthy. And then the baby is born, and the baby is healthy, and everyone is happy.

And then on rolls life. And there are bumps and bruises and colds and flus and infections, but mostly everything is well and you have dreams and hopes for your children and you just go on about life.

And all is well, because the baby was healthy.

But what about when you are just going along, and the baby is healthy, but then the baby is 7, and all of a sudden is no longer healthy?

Some friends of mine found out last Wednesday that their 7 year old son has Ewing Sarcoma, a form of bone cancer.

Right now, they are starting their daunting journey. I cannot stop thinking about them, and wondering how the hell, as a parent, you deal with that? I cannot stop crying. I cannot stop wondering how scared that little boy must be - I know I would be terrified were it me, and he is only 7! When you look up Ewing Sarcoma online, there is talk of surgery and chemo and amputation and metastizing to the lungs and the bone marrow, and deep bone pain and all of that just makes my stomach turn. And I know - he may be alright - he may beat it and live a full life, but what if he doesn't? What if he doesn't and he dies and they have to figure out how to live without him, and HOW do you do that???

I cannot stop looking at my boys and imagining if it were them how I would feel and how I would deal with it, and hopinghopingHOPING that I NEVER EVER EVER have to find out. Please oh PLEASE god or God or Goddess or Karma or Universe or dumb luck or WHATEVER, please oh please do not ever let me have to find out firsthand.

And I keep thinking how your life, your whole WORLD can be turned upside down in a split second, at any time and how down right SHITTY life can be at times.

And I am so sad for them.

Back to work

Tomorrow, I go back to work.

It is really making me sick to my stomach, and so sad.

I know it gets easier, but it is SOO hard at first, and right now, I REALLY don't want to do it. Today cannot go slow enough. The boys and I have been playing playing playing all morning, and right now, the younger is taking a little nap, and the elder is having a bit of lunch, and I am wishing the day would drag on forever and ever.

If shit wasn't all messed up at work it wouldn't be quite as bad. Last time I was on leave, that place was toxic when I left, but things had changed while I was out, and I returned to an altogether different place. BETTER different. This time, it was decent when I left, but is almost more toxic now than it was the last time. I really have no desire to go back to that. I am keeping my eyes open and looking for something else, but there just isn't much of anything around here in my line of work...

I have always said I didn't think that I want to be a full time stay at home mom, but this time, I don't know. If we could afford it, I probably wouldn't go back to work. It just feels different this time. I know FOR SURE I could go for only working 3 or 4 days a week - that would be a perfect balance. I could still work outside the home, which I DO honestly enjoy doing, but also get ample time at home with the boys...

I have been holding baby C as much as I possibly could for the last week or so. I honestly don't care if it causes him to get used to being held and causes issues for my daycare lady; he will adjust. I have just needed to keep him as close to me as possible these last few days of our undivided time together. I have even been keeping him in bed with me when he wakes up for his 5 or 6 am feeding; nursing him laying down, both of us falling back to sleep together when he is done. I NEVER did this with Logan, but I can see the draw of co-sleeping - how wonderful to snuggle next to my little one. To hear the measure of his breathing and feel his breath on my chest. The smell of him while I sleep. To wake up to his rooting around and grunting and to see him smile when my face is the first thing he sees upon waking. *SIGH*

So yeah. Tomorrow is going to suck big ass. As will probably the next 2 weeks, until I can get back into the routine. At least Thanksgiving Holiday is coming up fast, and in only a couple of weeks I will get 4 straight days with them again.

Wish me luck.

The elder is done eating, so we are gonna play some puzzles before his nap, and then I am gonna snuggle the younger and hope the afternoon and evening drag on.

He did it! And the 4th and other things...

L is back in his 'big boy' bed! YAY! Last night was the second night back in it, and both nights went well. W got him in it on Sunday night, and I am thinking it was a *little* bit against what L wanted to do, but there was no crying going on, so he obviously didn't have to force him. And last night, I just did the same thing, said "Ya ready to lay down in your bed?" and he said he wanted to lay in his crib and I just said "I think you need to sleep in your big boy bed, you love your bed! You slept here last night, let's try again!" and ushered him in, covered him up and left the room. He slept through the night again, so I am hoping we have made it past his first nightmare.

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Yesterday I arrived at work and was overwhelmed by the sudden need to get everything caught up and organized and ready for me to be gone RIGHT NOW . I was nesting. Or actually, a better description of what I was doing was PANICKING! So I spent the morning going through all my personal things that had piled up around my desk, cleaned my office and my desk off, and got some information sheets written up on the LARGE projects I have going so the person(s) who takes over for me has some idea of what's going on with each project, and so that important actions and billings do not fall through the cracks. I feel much better today about leaving work at any time.

I do NOT, however, feel the same way on a personal / home level. I have no bag packed for the hospital (and I seriously want my own shampoo and body wash and pajamas - last time I wore the hospital gown the whole time, and am wondering why I didn't bring my own comfy jammies?), I have not gone through L's old clothes to pull out the bare newborn neccessities, the house feels like it is a mess (which will only get 10x worse once we bring the baby home, so I would like to at least START with a very tidy, clean house), etc etc. Honestly? None of that really matters, and the baby will be just fine if I get none of that crap done, but I really want to for my OWN sanity's sake.

I think I may find a positive side to W being laid off when the baby arrives, assuming he has not found work by then...It will be nice for him to be home with me for the first little while and to have that time bonding with the baby. I HOPE he finds work ASAP, but if not, I am going to just focus on THAT aspect of it and not worry, for the time being.

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I took L out of the bath the other night, after letting him soak in some epsom salt and baking soda to clear up some butt rash he had, and as I was drying him off and applying lotion and he told me he didn't want to put his diaper on yet, which I said was fine, we would let his bum air out a bit, which would help it feel better, to which he replied,

"Mama? Can I play wit my penis?"

!!!!!!

Usually, he tells me "I touched my penis", but he has never actually asked if he could play with it! I told him that it is HIS penis, and he can do what he wants with it...I don't want to make him feel awkward about his sexuality at all, and I think maybe I should have just added that that is something we do in private, but to be honest, he took me by surprise, and I guess I will add that part in next time.

________________________________________________________________

We had a good 4th of July, although I can't believe it is over already, and now it kinda feels like summer is on the downslide already. I KNOW it's not - there is plenty of summer left, and after that comes fall, which I love probably more than summer, although I think I love Spring, Summer and Fall equally well, but I just know that before I know it, it will be Christmas again, and then L will be turning 3 and then I will be 60.

Not that there's anything wrong with 60.

Just sayin' that life is going faster and faster and sometimes I just don't like it.

It doesn't help that I am at that point in my pregnancy when I just wanna curl up and sleep until the baby comes. I don't want to talk to anybody; I am just too tired and crabby to chit chat or tell them AGAIN what my due date is, or how long I have left, or about how ready to be done I am, or to answer the question "Are you getting hot yet?" It's fucking 95 and humid and I weigh half a ton; WTF do you think?. My phone rings and I cringe - usually they get my voicemail and I may call back in a timely fashion. I don't have much energy to play with L, and I feel bad that I have to tell him that Mama can't do this or Mama can't do that cuz Mama is just too tired and big, because he just doesn't understand why his usually playful Mama just wants to lay on the couch. I can't make the walk to the duck pond anymore; in fact, most days I don't feel up to making it the 5 blocks to my mother in laws house. It is wearing on both L and I, as we are used to our evening walks after dinner. I miss getting outside and I miss the bit of Mama and L time we get and I miss de-stressing by surrounding myself with nature after being around all that damn technology and electronic CRAP all day...

But then I remind myself that I *AM* almost done, no matter if I go early or late, the end *IS* in sight, and that when it is all over, I *WILL* be sad that I may never ever again get to feel life forming inside of me; never again get to be a vessel for what truly is a miracle, and wasn't I JUST SAYING how life is going TOO fast and here I am wishing the days away and counting them down when I should really just be relishing each and every moment for whatever it is because they are each so precious, and that is what life is about.

***SIGH***

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I have a checkup tomorrow, and as much as it hurts, I am anxious to have the doctor check me and to know if I am ripening at all yet. With L, I was walking around dialated to almost a 3 at this point. Granted, I walked around like that for a couple of weeks, but just to know that the process is beginning does wonders for my mental state :0) Not to mention it would be nice to know if the contractions I have been feeling, which are probably just Braxton Hicks (uncomfortable BH ctx, I might add!) are starting to spark some changes down there. I sure do hope so.

Coming to it on his own

So L still won't sleep in his big boy bed after his snake nightmare the other night. He slept there for naptime on Monday and Tuesday, when he was home with W those two days, but when it comes to bedtime, at NIGHT, he's not havin it. Monday night he crawled into his big boy bed for about 10 minutes, but must have gotten to thinking about his dream, cuz then he was crying and adamant that he wanted to go into his crib.

Even after showing him multiple times that there are no snakes under his bed, and also telling him that his (stuffed) kitty and our other cats would eat any snakes that DID try to get into the house, he still wasn't convinced that it was okay.

W is of the mindset that we need to 'just make him sleep in his bed'...that somehow FORCING him to sleep there will miraculously make him get over his fear. *I*, on the other hand, am of the opinion that we continue to try and convince him that it is safe, and *try* to talk him into sleeping in the bed, but if he insists, that we let him sleep in the crib, and that sooner or later (and probably sooner) he will get over it and be back in his big boy bed. (So far, I am winning, lol ;0)) I can somewhat see his point and what he is thinking, but I still don't think forcing him to sleep there is the right way to go about it.

So, I will just keep trying to convince W that letting him come about it on his own is the right way to go about it, and hope that L decides soon that it is okay to sleep there in the dark.

Happy Anniversary to W and I...

(Please note that this was intended to be posted Thursday, as that was our anniversary, but I got busy and didn't have time to finish it that night...Also note that this post is just a long trip down memory lane for me and may be a little boring for you :0))


W and I got married 4 years ago today. It was a gloriously sunny day; not a cloud in the sky. It was hotter than hell, like 98 or better, but not a drop of humidity, THANKFULLY. Had it been humid, it would have been miserable. I remember it had been an unusually rainy spring; it rained EVERY WEEKEND for the 7 weekends before our wedding date, and I remember being EXTREMELY worried that it would rain on MY BIG DAY. But, it didn't :0)

W and I spent the night before the wedding apart; my girls and I stayed at the house and booted him out to spend the night at his best man's house...I woke up that morning, rolled over in bed, looked my best friend of 21 years (since we were 5!), R, in the eyes and said "I'm getting MARRIED today!!!!" to which she replied "I know!!!" LOL...it really was the perfect start to a perfect day. There was something very surreal about waking up next to her; it brought me back to when we were kids having sleepovers (which happened often) and it just didn't seem possible that we could be adults, in our mid 20's, her with a babe at home and another on the way, and me getting married...It felt like maybe it was all a dream and we were REALLY still just kids, prentending it was my wedding day.

She was 6 mos pregnant at the time, R was, with her second babe, and although I didn't realize it at the time, I now fully and COMPLETELY can comprehend just how good of her it was to stand up there, in the 98 degree heat, in a modified bridesmaid dress, in a Catholic Church, have tons and tons of photos snapped, stand up and make a toast in front of 275 pairs of eyes, and dance the night away with me all while being 6+ mos pregnant. Not that she would have ever said no - I know it meant alot to her to be a part of my day, but it had to have been hard. Now that I have been pregnant myself, I can say that in NO WAY would I be excited about the prospect of doing all that crap at 6+ months pregnant. I would TOTALLY want to be part of my friend's day, and would TOTALLY do it, but I am sure it was by no means an EASY, super enjoyable day for her. Her part in my special day means even more to me now that I can understand it from that perspective :0)

We got married in a Catholic Church because it was what we knew and what was 'expected' of us. Growing up, that was the only kind of wedding I ever saw, and so my dreams of my wedding day had always been shaped around that. Although I had already moved far FAR away from the religion of my childhood at that point, I was not far enough along in my journey and not strong enough at that point to do it any other way. And I do not regret it, but will say that if I had it to do over again NOW, I would definitely do it different. The only part of it that truly bugged me was the part of the vows that talked about promising to accept the children that god gave us and to bring them up in the Catholic Church...I already had NO INTENTIONS of doing any such thing.

I always thought W would be the nervous one, but as it turns out, *I* shook like a LEAF through the entire ceremony...W was holding my hands and at more than one point had to ask me if I was okay I was shaking so hard. But I made it through, and only sounded a *little* silly as my voice got higher and higher pitched as I recited my vows, so that by the time I said "I do" I am 99.9% sure I squeaked that part out sounding like a mouse. And we only had one awkward moment when the 90 some odd year old ancient priest decided to take a little nap in his chair after communion, and the music had ended and everyone in the church started rustling around uncomfortably, not sure what to do next...I am pretty sure this was when R and I looked at each other and got the giggles, which we were SOMEHOW able to contain to the SILENT giggles, which probably didn't look any different to all the people in the pews than all the SHAKING I had been doing throughout the ceremony anyway.

My brother gave a great TEARFUL speech at dinner, my dad a drunken speech, my friend R a truthful heartfelt one...We ate, and visited and drank (well not me - just a little wine with dinner, but W, he drank...along with a lot of others who had their fill!) we danced, we celebrated, we loved. I got told over and over how I was the most radiant bride people had ever seen; that the love that W and I share was pouring out of us so visibly that day. And it was. And it does. I felt absolutely beyond beautiful that day...which is a feat for me...My self esteem has come a long way since I was a kid / teen, but I still have trouble seeing myself as beautiful, even though people tell me so, but that day, I had no troubles feeling it what-so-ever.








We partied after the reception at our house with our wedding party and some close friends...I remember busting out our bong and smoking some in front of my now sister in law, who was just starting to get serious with my brother at the time, and who probably had some knowledge that W and I were not so straight laced, but had probably never seen pot or a bong in her life, but I didn't care - it was my day and my house. I am pretty sure I went to bed around 4am, in my wedding dress and W came in as the sun came up and the birds were singing good morning.

Most of the wedding party and some of the friends crashed at our place, strewn around our house on couches, chairs and the floor...we were awoken at about 7:30 am by my crazy dad pounding away in the front yard, installing some stone steps that W had been meaning to get to for a while. LOL...my crazy dad...yeah.

I spent a lot of that next day still in my wedding dress and all my dolled up hair and makeup. I figured shit, I paid all that money for all that stuff, might as well enjoy it for as long as possible, right? Although I didn't spend too much money - I bought my dress off the rack on clearance for $100, and only spent $30 on alterations - Yeah baby ;0)



(7 Mile Beach, Negril Jamaica)

We left on Tuesday to spend a week in Negril, Jamaica on our honeymoon, and I will just say that that week was honestly the best week of my life. I have never felt so relaxed, happy and so deeply in love as I did that week. I have never seen such natural beauty as that of the white sandy beaches, teal greenish - blueish clear Caribbean water, the wildness of the jungle as we traveled inland to take a day trip to hike up a stream. THAT was a trip...from stopping on the side of a mountain on the way up to visit a true to live Rasta man who hacked us up fresh pineapple, that he had just picked, with a machete, while trying to get as many marlboro's off us as he could, with a huge doobie hanging out of his mouth the entire time; to eating fresh mango that our tour guide pulled from the mineral spring (OMGOD heavenly), to jumping from a cliff, to diving under the water to pass through a hole in this rock under the water (that was nuts - W wouldn't do it, but I did - I wouldn't do it again, but I am glad I did it once!), to our bus getting pulled over by the police on the way back to our resort. Seems they had some little issues with our driver's paperwork. The 'police', by the way, carried fucking machine guns, and I will be completely honest in saying that I was FREAKED RIGHT THE FUCK OUT as they argued with our driver...I kept thinking 'maybe they AREN'T the police...'. After hasseling our driver for awhile they let us pass, and I was able to relax again...



I pushed beyond my fears of the water and spent lots of time swimming, did a little snorkeling, jumped off the catamaran boat and swam around the caves by Rick's cafe which are amazing...and where the locals cliff jump from CRAZY heights...a few of the people on our cruise tried it too - THAT was one thing I didn't even consider ;0).



We ate candle lit buffet dinner barefooted on the beach most every night, and had fresh fruit smoothies and made to order omelets for breakfast most every morning. We opened the shutters in our room and laid on the bed listening to the rain and thunder which came each afternoon for an hour or so, and then blew away leaving more sunny skies and hot weather. The thunder was truly amazing...louder than any I have ever heard. Must have something to do with rolling out over the open ocean or something...




(Where the magic happened...well, *some* of the magic...some happened in OTHER places too, but we won't go into that ;0) )


(Oh, that hammock was TO DIE FOR. I really almost smuggled it home with me)


Mostly, I think it was just the relaxation that made it all so amazing. Of course, the relaxation was aided by a wonderfully mellow buzz from a little bit of Jamiaca's finest smoke, courtesy of our beach friend Elvis - not too mention all of the banana rum drinks that flowed freely all day and night! I am sure that the weight I gained was more from the banana drinks than all the food I ate!!


(This was the view from 'our spot' on the beach where we spent a LOT of our time...**sigh** wish I was there now :0) )




(Our beach friend Elvis...and me in my standard attire - sarong, tank top and sandles...with a banana rum drink in hand! Hmmm...for someone who really HONESTLY hardly ever drinks, I sure did drink a lot of alcohol THAT week!)

It just really was the most amazing time of my life, and I cannot believe that I almost didn't book the trip because I thought we couldn't afford it. My friend J convinced me that we MUST do it because if we didn't - if we said 'We will do it in 5 years' that we would SO REGRET it and that we probably would not get around to it and I am SO GRATEFUL for her relentless badgering because she was ABSOLUTELY RIGHT. We COULD afford it then; and had we waited, there is no way we would be doing it next year on our 5 year anniversary. There is no way we could afford it now. And in my heart I know that it would not be the same as it was then. The combination of all the stress and planning leading up to the wedding, and the excitement of just being married, and the fact that we didn't have any kids at home to miss (besides the cats!) made it impossible to recreate that same experience 5 years later. However, I do so hope that we are able to make it back there some day and are able to 'somewhat' recreate that level of relaxation, adventure and pure reveling in our love for each other.


(Looking at that photo, all I can think is MAN we look young!)

Bravo for you if you made it all the way through this trip down memory lane with me...thanks :0)

Bits and pieces

Today, I am feeling relatively at peace. Mostly because I have not thought about our budget at all yet. I don't have the exact numbers anyway, so there is no point in doing it yet anyway, and for now, surprisingly, I have been able to just let it go. I am only hoping that when the actual numbers come in, the cut won't be quite as deep as we are thinking. I don't even think I mentioned that the salary cut is coming in the form of reduced health care benefits, and very substantial increases in the amount that I will have to pay toward premiums, deductible and services. But as that has been a part of my compensation package for the last 10 years, and we have no other option (ie W doesn't have any insurance that we can check into - I am the sole person with the ability, at least right now, to provide health insurance for our family) it IS a direct pay cut. And I know I am by no means alone in this, and we are lucky to HAVE health coverage, but dammit, it is still a roughly 20% pay cut all at once, and jeezus, how can they just DO that to someone?? And not just me, who has been there for 10 years, but EVERYBODY; even the guy that has been there for 25 years. They have always said, 'We are a small, family orientated company, we care about you, we are a family here'...yada yada yada, all a bunch of shit.

And, there is a LOT more to the whole story, stuff I will not share as it is confidential company information; the reason the cuts are needed is pretty sad and disgusting when you get right down to it, but let me just say that the future is not bright at all around that place, and I don't see myself still there a year from now. Or should say that I seriously hope and plan that I won't be there a year from now. Unless something DRASTICALLY changes soon.

Enough of that, though. I have fun news today too.

L slept in his toddler, aka 'big boy' bed, last night!! I am pretty sure I have talked about the fact that we set it up a while ago, but as of yet, he has been extremely reluctant to sleep in there at night. He LOVES to play in it, but when it comes time to sleep in it, he has so far THOUGHT he wanted to, but as soon as I would leave the room he would get scared and want to go in his crib. Which I have just let him do. It's not so dire that I need to force the kid out of his crib if he isn't ready.

But last night, when we got done reading books, he told me 'I haf ta lay down in my big boy bed!' and so I said sure, but reminded him that if he wants to sleep there he has to STAY IN BED, and I will be checking and if I come up and find him out of bed then he will have to go into his crib. He said 'otay, mama' and layed down. I checked on him every 5-10 minutes, and each time he was still in bed. There was one time when I heard a loud crash and went up to find him standing at the window (still in his bed, as it is right under the window) and that he has pulled the screwdriver out that was holding the window open (I know, I know, that is not a very good set up now that he is sleeping right there - that is W's assignment, to rig a better way to keep the window open) and the window had crashed shut. It scared him pretty good though, and between that and my threats that he better leave it alone or he will get a BIG ouchie, he didn't touch it again.

It probably took him about 45 minutes total to fall asleep, but he did. With his feet at the head of the bed and his head at the foot; but he didn't fall out all night, which I was worried about since he is such a restless sleeper like his dad. When I woke him up this morning I made a big deal about praising him for being such a big boy and sleeping in his big boy bed. So hopefully he is going to make the transition smoothly now!

**SIGH** it is again, as always, a bittersweet moment. I am excited for him to come into our room on a Saturday morning and climb into bed with us and wake us up! But not looking forward to if or when he figures out that he is no longer confined in his bed and can test me at bedtime by getting out of bed! Hopefully he won't ever get there...he never tried to climb out of his crib, though I have no doubts he would have been fully capable of it had he tried.

He also made another step showing he is getting closer to wanting to potty train...the other night we were at my mother in laws for dinner and as they came in from outside to sit down at dinner, he told me 'Mama, I pooped, needa change my diaper'...usually, when he poops, he will deny it till the end of the day!! LOL...even when you catch him in the act of it, grunting and tensing and all, and you ask if he is pooping, he will say "No, I not poopeen". And he has been content to continue on about his day for as long as possible without getting his diaper changed. So that was the first time he showed the initiative to want to have his diaper changed, which is definitely a step in the right direction! YAY!

Speaking of W's assignments (lol) he DID get my garden tilled, although it is a bit of a sore subject as he did NOT listen to me for location, and did not even go with the location that HE brought to the table that I actually liked better than mine, but put it at the bottom of the yard at the dang tree line, which as soon as the few large trees there get all there leaves, is going to be too darn shady to support vegetables. At least that is my opinion. So I am reluctant to even plant anything for the fear that it is going to be a waste of time. But I will do it, and already told him that if it doesn't work this year, he WILL be redoing it in a different location for next year. MEN. I swear. Sometimes even the best of them are just so frustrating! ;0)

1/2 a pound and a swimming head

I had my monthly check up yesterday, and I actually put my hands in the air and cheered "WHOOO HOOO" when I stood on the scale and it told me I had gained 1/2 a pound!!!! YAY!!!!!!! Now, i am not COMPLETELY weight obsessed, especially because I KNOW that to some extent our bodies are going to do what they are going to do when pregnant, and I know I eat a PRETTY well rounded diet, and I am still walking about 2 miles 4 or 5 times a week, but SERIOUSLY, after 8# 2 months ago and then 13# lsst month, I really needed this small weight gain this month. For my own emotional stability. That puts my total at 25# with 11 weeks or so to go, which is okay. It may not sound like a lot, but when you start out on the not so tiny side to begin with, it is plenty. My goal this time is to keep it under 40#, which would STILL put me at almost the same ending weight as last time, which is no little number, but overall, I am okay with how it is going...

Also good yesterday was that my blood pressure is still looking lovely, so no bedrest yet! YAY!

I also had my baby Soul Portrait session yesterday, and it was very cool, but honestly has left my head swimming. There is one part in particular that we talked about, that leaves me....confused? Scared? Questioning my personal strength and my strength to make hard choices when it comes to the best interest of my children. Because, as parents, isn't that our goal? To do the best we can by them? It has to do with letting go of the notion that MY families life (my family in this instance meaning W, I and our children) need not be completely based on the traditions of what I grew up with...of really questioning WHY I feel so tied to this geographical location, and if it is simply because it is 'what I know' and whether or not it is going to be the MOST beneficial and most NURTURING place for my family. I have often wondered why we stay here...I remember thinking one time "We are adults, we could go live ANYWHERE we want...we could write a completely different life for ourselves, why don't we?" W has often talked about moving away...Alaska and Colorado being two areas he has talked about on numerous occassions...but I am a true Capricorn, and change and the unknown are REALLY HARD for me. But it came up yesterday that we may, in the future, find ourselves needing to think about those things again. And she asked me if I was ready to make decisions like that if they were for the best for my children. I sure hope I am. And she said that this baby is going to push us to be more than we think we are... And she specifically mentioned a place that W has mentioned in the past, which was one of those freaky things...

And there is so much more, but I guess I am not going to get into it right now...

I don't know...it was weird and great and amazing all at the same time. And it has left me feeling a little ungrounded today. I didn't have a chance to take a photo of the Soul Portrait, but I will, I promise, and it is beautiful.

W's assignment for today is to borrow the neighbors tiller and get a plot tilled for our garden and get the compost tilled into the earth so I can sow some seeds this weekend. I am up north, so not really *behind* schedule on planting, but I definitely need to get a move on. So I am REALLY hoping he gets that done for me today...If I wasn't so pregnant, I would TOTALLY just do it myself and not wait on him, but I am thinking I should just leave manhandling the tiller to the man this time, LOL...My dad and I had a garden for quite a few years when I was a kid, but it has been a LOOOOOOONG time, and so we are going to go slow, and just do a small-ish garden this year, and go from there. I am going to do tomatoes, peppers (I want to do salsa this fall if I get enough of a yield!), pickling cucumbers (for pickles, obviously), some melons cuz L and I LOOOOOVE melon, Peas in a pod, carrots, and onions maybe. I would like to do so much more, but I think that will be good for this year and gettting a hang of the farming thing again :0) I also am going to get some herbs going in pots that I can bring inside this fall and hopefully continue to have fresh herbs growing inside over the winter.

On my mind

Just a couple of things that are / have been on my mind.

-My recent reminiscing of my early days with W got me wanting to go through my old photos. I have been meaning to weed out the duplicates and then someday put them in the empty albums I asked for and received a couple of Christmases ago. On Saturday, I sat on the living room floor and pulled out the big box of photos and started going through them. W sat down next to me while L played with his cars near us. It was GREAT. We reminisced together over memories of days gone by - the good and the bad. And even better than the together-remembering was the deep conversation that followed. We talked about our childhoods and how they affected us similarly and differently (not that we haven't done this before, but it is the first real deep conversation since we became parents, which changes and clarifies your perspective so greatly...) We talked about how I have been going through some really intense reflecting lately, and how I am having issues with my feelings toward my parents right now. We talked about raising L and this coming baby, and how and why we want and NEED and WILL do things differently. It was some intense reconnecting that we REALLY REALLY needed. It was lovely.

-Not too long ago W and I had a conversation about homosexuality. I can't remember what spurred it, and I don't remember the conversation in detail, but the part that makes me sad is that we came to a point where I started getting angry at him for his opinion, and we had to agree to disagree...he truly believes that homosexuality is a CHOICE, that it is a 'learned behavior' and I do not. As far as gay marriage goes, I don't think he could care less either way, but he was surprised and disappointed that I totally believe that TRUE homosexuality is not a choice. It makes me sad that we disagree on that at such a fundamental level.

-W's mom asked us to go out to eat with them on Saturday at a place called Treasure Island. On Saturday morning, as I was getting L dressed, I told him that we were going to meet G-ma and R at Treasure Island and have lunch, and did that sound like fun? His eyes got all wide, he started nodding his head yes, and he said "We gon be PIRATES! We need a boat, too Mama!!!" at first, I was wondering what the heck he was talking about when it dawned on me that Dora the Explorer (L's favorite cartoon character) and her friends dress up as pirates and go sailing off to Treasure Island to look for buried treasure!! I laughed so hard! We had a blast on the way there pretending that the car was a boat, and that the river we crossed was Crocodile Lake; another obstacle that Dora and her friends must cross before they can get to Treasure Island. He woke this morning immediately talking about G-ma and R and pirates and treasure...Ahhh, he's growing up too fast.

-I have almost 15 weeks to go yet in this pregnancy, and it feels like a LONG time, and I am SO SORE. All the time. My hips and back and pelvic region seem to be feeling it much worse this time. Probably doesn't help that I am at the weight already at 25 weeks that I was at at 31 weeks last time. It's a lot of extra weight for my body to carry around...Yeah; I gained THIRTEEN, yes that's 13 pounds in the last 5 weeks (Go ahead and laugh, Kori, it's okay, my doctor did!)...I am not even sure how that is humanly possible, but obviously, for this human, it is. I thought I was doing kind of okay, I figured I would have another 8# month like last month, but it was even worse. I have promised myself and my doctor to buckle down a bit and hopefully slow the weight gain. So yeah, it feels like a LONG time to go. I know it will go by fast, but I am gonna be one crabby mama bear by the time this baby pops out! I am just going to keep walking as much as I can, at least 4 times a week, and keep stretching and hopefully I won't get too much more sore than I am now.

-Here's some more true as hell pregnancy information that, were you never pregnant yourself, you would probably never know. Having a little person kicking you LITERALLY in the anus from the inside is the WEIRDEST.FEELING.EVER. Or maybe she is kicking something like my intestine that's connected to my anus, but my anus is where I 'feel' it. Either way, it is not really all that pleasant. Sorry, but it's been happening, and it's on my mind.

Destiny

I have been thinking back a lot in the last few days to mine and W's early relationship; how we came together, where we have been, what we have come THROUGH together, what our love looked like back then. It has been good for my soul to pull these memories up and revel in their sweetness; not that it has been, by any means, ALL sweetness, but those are the memories I have been thinking about. With all the difficult memories I have been dredging up lately, remembering our years of love has felt good, and helped to balance me out.

I heard a song this morning that I guess I haven't listened to in quite some time and it instantly transported me back to an important incident in our journey that I hadn't thought about in a long time.

We had to have been 22 or 23 when my forever friend R and I took a spur of the moment weekend trip to Tampa, Florida. She was going through a hard time, and needed to get away. She called me on Tuesday and said "Let's go to Florida" and told me the flight details and cost, and said we leave on Thursday.

Now; I had NEVER flown anywhere. I had NEVER seen the ocean. I had NEVER done anything like this. I was 22. I had the money. I was a young professional. I was an ADULT, and I could DO something like this; just take off for the weekend. It didn't take me long to make the decision that Hell yeah, I needed to jet to Florida for the weekend.

W and I were living together at the time, and when I got home that night, I told him our plans.

He was NOT happy. At that time, he was still having some jealousy issues, and was still somewhat insecure in our relationship. I know that the reason for this is because he believed (and somewhat STILL does believe) that I was too good for him, and wondered why the hell *I* was with *him*. He has told me this. Several times.

We had a pretty good argument about it. I could understand some of his fears, but I honestly didn't much care. It was actually a really good thing in that it basically gave me the opportunity to express to him that he needed to get over the jealousy thing, and to realize that if I didn't want to be there, I wouldn't. And that I wasn't going to live the rest of my life in a relationship with someone who can't trust me because of his own insecurities. I had NEVER given him any reason to doubt me or to not trust me. And that I was GOING TO FLORIDA dammit, whether he liked it or not.

I left for Florida with a somewhat heavy heart. Before I left, he was still very cold toward me; obviously still hurt or angry or whatever that I was actually going through with it. The couple of times I talked to him over the weekend, he was quiet and didn't say much, and what he did say was snotty. Which on one hand made me angry, but I also missed him and knew he was missing me. It was the first time we had spent the night apart (let alone a FEW nights apart) in at least 3 years.

Although I was missing him, I had a BLAST!! It was my first adventure. And it was great fun. The ocean was amazing (people have corrected me saying "It's the Gulf, not the ocean", but I fail to see or acknowledge the difference. For me, it was my first trip to THE OCEAN.). So much more powerful and huge and awe inspiring than I had ever imagined it (think how blown away I was when I stepped into the 10 times sweeter Caribbean Ocean on our honeymoon to Jamaica!!). We swam in the ocean, even though it was the end of October and not all that warm. But to us, it was heaven, coming from the chilly fall weather we were escaping. We went to some night clubs. We went to Busch Gardens.

On the flight home, despite all of the fun I had, and the anger I had felt toward W for his childish behavior, I was still very anxious to get home to him. And then this song came up on my CD player, and although it was a song I had listened to a LOT, it was the first time I really HEARD it, and it was SO PERFECT. I remember the sky outside the plane window was dotted with clouds beneath us, and I remember the intensity of the sun way up there, and the lyrics were so spot on and it made me so happy. And I remembered how much I loved and appreciated that man, despite the jealousy issue. And it reminded me of how much light he had brought into my life. And I put that song on repeat and listened to it until we touched down at home, and I was soon to be back with him, and I was nearly me again.

And as cliche as it seems, I still believe he was and is my Destiny.

Angry

I wrote a post and emailed it yesterday to Maggie for her Violenced Unsilenced website. I had been debating doing this for awhile, after Maggie encouraged me that my story may help someone. I am not sure when it will be up, but I will let you know.

It turned out to be much harder than I had originally expected it to be. Not the writing, but the feelings that it exposed. As the memories unfolded on the screen, it struck me that those things happened to ME. For so long I have thought that I had addressed the issues and moved on...that I had come to terms with it all. But I realized that for so long, when I thought about those things that happened, it was like watching a movie; those children were not me and my brother, they were just actors...Those adults were not my parents, they were just.actors. It turns out, I hadn't addressed or come to terms with much of anything...My brain had just conveniently removed ME from the equation. They were Other People. Not Me.

I think part of that comes because my mother likes to say "You only focus on the bad. Your life wasn't that bad; there are so many who had it worse."

Yeah. There were and are LOTS and LOTS of people who 'had it worse'. I need only read the stories here to know that, but does that mean that I am not entitled to the pain that I *did* suffer? Discounting the situation as 'not that bad' is an excuse. It is her way of justifying all that happened, and making herself feel okay with exposing us to it all. I know this. But that doesn't help heal that little girl who still witnessed horrible things, even if they weren't the MOST horrible things.

It could also be the fact that I was stoned for a decade. From the time I was 14 until I was in my early twenties, I was stoned. I always told myself I just liked to smoke pot, and that it was all good, but I can see now that I was definitely self medicating, avoiding, hiding.

Writing it all out has left me feeling like an open wound...my emotions are oozing out of me...slowly. And they feel hot, and angry, and they burn as they come. Different emotions keep coming...the more I think about it the more different emotions boil up to the surface. I feel angry, and disgusted, and sad, and confused.

There is just so much coming out lately...Starting with all of the issues that have been coming forth with my dad's spiraling alcoholism and his relationship with L and this coming baby, and now with everything that is coming up from writing for Violenced Unsilenced...it's all working its way slowly to a head it feels.

It's good. I know it is. Things I have wanted to say to my parents for a long time are starting to burst forth from my mouth as they run through my head. Almost by the will of someone else, they come forth, where before they would have just continued to run through my head, WANTING so desperately to be said out loud. That little forgotten girl inside of me is finding her voice. And she is TIRED of the silence, and the waiting, and the holding it all in, it seems. And she is ANGRY.

Like the other day, my mom stopped by and was talking to L about the summer and how much fun they were going to have...she asked if L had a fishing pole, and I said 'No' and she told L that she was going to buy him one so that her and Papa could take him out fishing in the boat.

I was standing at the counter making supper and as the same old thought ran through my head it simultaneously came out of my mouth -

"As long as Papa realizes he isn't going to be drinking before OR during the fishing trip"

It felt SO. GOOD. to say that out loud. I wish he would have been in the room, but it's okay. It still felt good.

My mom looked at me with a hurt look on her face, and proceeded to inform me that she had already had that talk with my dad - that he 'Better realize that E isn't going to put up with you drinking if you want to take her son fishing'...and then she asked me if I really thought she would allow that.

I told her that No, I don't think SHE would do anything to put my child(ren) in danger, that I do in fact trust her to obey my wishes when it comes to my child(ren), but that my Dad needs to realize that there is no leeway on the boundaries I set; that he is going to be forced to make a choice. It may break my heart if he cannot make the right choice, but on this I will not bend. He is going to make a choice - his grandson or his alcohol. It doesn't mean 'just a few beers' before hand, it means you don't drink until AFTER you have my son safe and sound back with me. That my brother and I may have survived him, but I will be DAMNED if I am going to put my children out there and chance them surviving him.

I so so wish he had been there, but it's a step. I felt lighter, and relieved. I know I need to say it to his face, and I really really feel as though the day is coming when it is all going to come out of me, and onto him.

But good as it feels, it hurts me, too. Because it hurts her. It's hurts her probably on so many levels that I cannot even comprehend. And that hurts me, deeply. But I cannot continue to be silent. I cannot. It's not just me, it's MY CHILDREN on the line now. Being a mother changes everything SO MUCH.

She stopped again a few days later, and as she was leaving she said to me

"L is so so sweet, E - enjoy that now, because it all changes...they grow up and leave you. I should know, I have completely lost my son"

Meaning she has lost her son because he married a woman who took him away from her and turned him on her...

"Yeah, but part of that is not your fault -"

"I know, he and I always had a very close relationship"

"-no, I mean part of that is because of Dad."

"Yeah, but what can I do about that? I can't do anything about his problems...and I may be an enabler, but what can I do? My mom lived with the same thing."

BINGO. There it is, the continuation of the cycle. 'What could *I* have done? My mom lived through the same thing...*She* couldn't do anything, what could *I* do either???'

"Well, it's too late now."

"What could I have EVER done?"

It saddens me to no end to see that she doesn't get it. That she came through her experiences with her OWN childhood as the person who perpetuates the cycle. It's all excuses. As my friend Kori said, it's all excuses. Excuses for inaction. Excuses to quell their own feelings of guilt.

It angers me. I am ANGRY at her. As much as she was a victim herself, I still hold her partially accountable and at fault, for letting it happen. And that then CONFUSES me...how can I be SO ANGRY at another victim? But then again, I guess I could look at HIM as a victim, too? Couldn't I? A victim of the disease of alcoholism? A victim to his uncontrollable anger??

I am also guilty of being an enabler myself. By not telling my father EXACTLY what I feel, by not telling him that how he drinks is NOT okay, and that he NEEDS help; by continuing to sweep it under the rug, I myself have become an enabler. By not drawing a line in the sand and saying I love you, but I will not continue to sit by while you drink yourself to death, I will not allow you to have a relationship with my children in the state that you are in, I am allowing him to continue on.

There is so much going on in my head. And I know the pregnancy and the hormones add fuel to the fire. But this NEEDS to happen. But that doesn't make it easy. And it all threatens the relationship with my parents - this delicate balance I have struck between my true emotions and what I want to be...but that relationship is built on sweeping the dirty, hard, disgusting facts under the rug, just as we have always done. I don't want to do that forever. I CAN'T do that forever. It's like balancing a ton of feathers and a ton of bricks...somehow, that ton of bricks is just so much heavier...

I may be a total whack-job...

Have I really not posted anything since March 3rd? That's what...(checking my calendar) 2 weeks? Wow...

I've felt weird lately. I have been dealing with my newly discovered anger at being made (or maybe it is just allowing myself) to feel guilt over my loved ones alcoholism. I have found that maybe THAT is what makes me the most angry. And have realized that I have felt it so much and for so long. Not just over the alcoholism, but also due to my parents fighting all the time and some other things too.

I have been teetering and tottering on the edge of full blown anxiety about our finances, and the economy, and what our life may look like in a year or two. I feel like a weeble-wobble...I weeble and wobble, but don't quite fall down. I have been thinking more and more about what may really happen in 2012...Which, BTW, is the topic I have been wanting to blog about that may or may not make you think I am a total whack job...You know how the Mayan and Chinese calendars and Nostradamus all point to 'the end of the world as we know it' in 2012...W is and always has been a believer that something is going to change in 2012, and to be honest, with the current state of the world economy, is it so far fetched to think that life as we know it could possibly be drastically different by 2012? And not in a progressive way, but as in the world economy collapses and we go back to a time of basic survival being the name of the game??? W frequently says that he cannot wait, "Death to the machine" as he says often, and honestly, on one hand, I would probably be okay with a simpler life, but can you imagine the chaos?? So yeah, I am scared about what our life may look like in a couple of years.

And even if you think about it in a bit more sane manner, if not that scenario, I am still concerned about our future as a family...W is still laid off, and I worry. I worry that the residential construction industry will stay stale and we will be faced with him having to find different employment, and with the unemployment rate at record numbers and growing with no end in sight, I worry about even being able to find a job...We are making it on unemployment, barely, and I worry how we will make it when the baby comes...Daycare alone is going to put us right on the edge of solvency without his normal income and without major changes in our life. And I don't want to depend on the unemployment for any longer than we have to. I am just trying to not think about it, and just take it day by day.

I must say though, that W seems happier these days...At least he has energy left when we get home to play with L and we actually have conversations and he is again funny and witty and makes me laugh like he did in the beginning. When working, he is so drained when he gets home, he doesn't have much left for us. I don't blame him, he works his ass off, but seeing this side of him again makes me sad. Sad that he can't have a career or a job that he likes that still allows us to have him complete.

My life is by no means all doom and gloom, thankfully, which is totally what is keeping me from falling over the edge into that abyss of anxiety. The pregnancy is going well, I am feeling the baby kicking and moving every day now, and every day she gets stronger. It is feeling more and more real with every passing week, and I am so excited to meet this addition to our family. I was officially halfway as of last Friday (20 weeks) and we get to have our routine ultrasound on Wednesday of this week. We are going to bring L with, and I am excited to see what he thinks of actually seeing the baby on the screen. He has been to my last couple of appointments with me, to hear the baby's heartbeat, which he will talk about on occasion out of the blue. We aren't going to find out the sex, although I must admit I am tempted this time. But I loved the surprise last time, and although there is a risk of me having gender disappointment if this isn't my girl, I know it will only last for seconds, and is not worth giving up the surprise to avoid.

Not to mention that Spring is showing us a glimpse of her glorious face around here the last week or so, and it feels absolutely wonderful. We have been able to get outside without bundeling up, the air is thick with the pungent smell of thawing earth, there are puddles to splash in, the birds are singing their chorus in the mornings, I have been enjoying beautiful foggy sunrises on my way to work...How can I not find joy and peace in the emergence of Spring?

We are overcome every day by how much joy, love, laughter and happiness L brings to our life. He is so funny (like his dad) and smart (like his mom...oh, okay, and his dad is pretty bright himself) and sweet and sensitive. And he is growing so fast right before our eyes. It is IMPOSSIBLE for me to not slow down and just enjoy him...it is impossible for me not to see that before I know it he will be a boy, a teen, a man.

He is a wild man, and every day is a new adventure...

Like the other day, when he fell head first off the ottoman and wound up with this on his head...




Or yesterday on his first trike ride outside...




We are beginning to be able to see how he is going to be; what personality traits he will have, what his strengths and weaknesses will be. Really getting to know him. And I love it. And it is the best thing in the world...this is what keeps me from falling down.

Movement...

She is moving...I just ate a ham sandwich with spicy habanero mustard and she must have liked it cuz I was working away and she started kicking and rolling and then I was crying and remembering that THIS is what's important in life...Her, rolling and kicking, and me, taking the time to pay attention to her and burn these memories into my mind and file them away.

No matter the bills, or W being unemployed, or the scary economy or the bony fingers of the anxiety trying to wrap themselves around my throat or all of the above, THIS baby, and L, and W, and our love, THAT is what REALLY matters. THAT is what will pull us through the scary times ahead still intact.

I have been feeling her (who, if I may remind you, may not even be a her, but she will be until or if she comes out a he) move a little bit every day now for about 2 weeks. It is so reassuring and fun and just CRAZY; to have a HUMAN BEING rolling around and kicking you from the inside. Absolutely one of the wildest, most amazing things ever. I love it. And it is a bit sad to think this may be the last time I feel this miracle ever. But for now, it's good.

Fooling myself...

I had this naive notion that I could protect my children from my parents' alcoholism. That due to the fact that *I* was determined to show them with my own actions and life choices that drinking like my parents do is not normal or healthy or the way that all, or even a majority of people, live their lives, that they would be safe from the hurt and pain inflicted upon me by my parents alcoholism. That my parents could be a part of my children's lives and somehow I would use their sickness as a way for my children to learn from a distance...my children would not have to live through what I did in order to learn the lessons; I could teach them by viewing it from afar.

I had this plan that I would simply tell my children that Nana and Papa (him, especially) have a disease, a sickness they couldn't control, and that drinking like that was not a healthy or happy way to live. And that somehow, some way, those words would make them understand and would protect them.

HA...yeah...good plan.

Last night I was telling L that I was going to call Papa B and Gramma C (W's father and his wife) and see if he could stay with them on Saturday night while mama worked. He immediately started whining that he didn't want to go there, he wants to "Go Nana's house...and Papa be der too!" (my parents).

In that instant, at TWO years old, L blew my plan wide open and exposed it for the weak little wanna be protection from the storm that it was trying to be.

"No, you can't go to Nana and Papa's, we're going to see if you can go to Papa B's and Gramma C's house"

"Noooo - wanna see Nana an Papa, and Jack be der too!"

How could I have thought there would be no pain in it for him? How could I have thought that saying the words "No you can't_____with Papa because Papa is sick" would magically make him understand my reasoning and squelch his desires to spend time fishing or hunting or hanging out with his Papa that he loves?

Last night, I was able to brush it under the rug and just move on. I just stopped the conversation, and when Saturday comes and we drop L off at his other Papa and Gramma's house, he will be happy and he will forget that he wanted to be at Nana and Papa's instead. But what happens when he is 4 or 5 or 8 and he won't take no for an answer? When he wants to know why he can NEVER do x,y or z with Papa K? When he wants to know why he always stays at Papa B and Gramma C's, but never with Nana and Papa? What then? Could I seriously have thought that saying those weak little words "Papa is sick" would somehow leave him understanding what my 30+ years of life, and being bombarded by and living through all the ugly faces of alcoholism has taught me? How will there not be pain for him when he wonders why Papa can't just love him enough to NOT drink? Did I think he would not wonder that same thing that I myself have wondered a million times over?

I truly believe that I am here in this life and that I chose these parents because *I* will be the one who breaks the chain, the one who chooses the other path. But how could I have thought that there would be no pain for my children? There is no escaping the pain when you are on the path of leaving your family's legacy of alcoholism behind...and regardless of the shortsightedness of my previous thinking that the pain would end with me; that *I* was the end of that legacy, it is obvious that my children are REALLY going to have to be the end. Hopefully my choices, which were shaped through my own pain, along with my children's choices learned through their own different, but equal pain, can allow my grandchildren to be the ones who won't have to learn the lessons through pain. They hopefully can learn to live healthy, productive lives simply because that is the ONLY thing that they know and see in their immediate family.

And although that thought brings me hope and joy, it does not ease the sorrow I feel for my own children. It does not answer the question of 'what's my plan NOW?' How am I going to help ease their pain? I'm tired. Tired of the alcoholism. Tired of thinking about it and seeing it and figuring out how to live through it. Tired of feeling guilty and disappointed and embarrassed and sad and mad because of it. I would so much like to brush it under the rug, but I keep tripping on the bump it creates. I cannot even look at my father these days, which makes me feel so sad and guilty and angry. I see in his eyes that he knows; he knows that I can hardly stand to look at him, and he knows why, and it hurts him SO BAD...I can see all that in his eyes, and it makes me SO FUCKING angry at him for knowing it and allowing me to feel so guilty because I cannot muster the strength to say it all out loud.

I only wanted to spare my children this pain...this unfair, unrelenting pain caused by the actions of our loved ones which we have no control over. This realization of my flawed plan has dampened my heart...

A true struggle and REAL worry...

My friend Kori over at See Kori Rant reminded me today that although we may be struggling in some ways, we have SO SO MUCH to be thankful for, and that things could be SO much worse in such bigger ways. There are much much more trying things that can happen in life, and I should be thankful for so much. Which I am.

She has some friends who are going through probably the most difficult thing I can imagine in life; watching your baby (or child) go through a major illness. I can't say much about it right now, it has really dampened my heart. I cannot bear to imagine seeing my L or this growing life inside of me in that position, and I pray that I never have to experience it.

I am not usually one to ask people to give to people they don't know, and I know we are all struggling, but on the odd chance that this story touches one of you and inspires you to help in whatever way you can, I ask that you stop over here and just take a look.

Just Breathe

W got laid off yesterday.

"You might as well go sign up for unemployment" they said "we don't have anything for you."

We knew it was coming. I guess we really were living in denial, just hoping that maybe, oh maybe it wouldn't come. But really? We were just kidding ourselves.

Believe it or not, I am actually *not* freaking out. Yet anyway. I was actually somewhat giddy last night? Laughing a lot. On the surface it probably sounded like genuine laughter...but I suspect if you listened closely, underneath you would hear the laughter of someone teetering on the edge...one of those laughs that starts out great but winds itself up into a jittery, desperate cackling laugh...

I am not freaking out because for the moment, we will be okay. We can survive with my income and W's measly unemployment disbursement for awhile. We have a little money in the bank (and I do mean *little*, but a little is a little better than *none*, right?) and this will really give me a chance to see how serious and dedicated I/we are to our new path to financial peace. If we live below our means, we can make it for awhile. (Why the hell weren't we living below our means when it would have meant we could save for a time like this? THAT is the ultimate question, and is exactly what our path to financial peace is all about...I think I am ready for my heart change, Dave Ramsey.)

I am REALLY hoping that my calculations were wrong, and that we will eek out some kind of tax return this year to help us out in the interim also, but I am not going to count on it. We don't usually get much, compared to a lot of people I know, but we usually get a grand or so, which would be great right now. But it seems that W's work had him down for 2 exemptions for state and fed this year, instead of the 0 or 1 we thought he was claiming, so not looking so good. Ah well, better that we keep our money throughout the year and not let the gvmnt use it all year I guess.

I think the reason I am not freaking out yet is because I am not thinking beyond that. I am not thinking about the prospect that the residential housing market could be in the dumps for a lot longer than just a little bit...not thinking about the fact that this layoff may not last for just a few months...not thinking about what might happen should my husband, who possesses only a high school education, and who has only ever worked in the manufacturing or construction trades, have to look for a different job when every line of work he has ever done is struggling just as much as the construction industry.

W is going to check out a few leads today. Thankfully, he does have a few things to check on and hopefully something will come through.

So for now, I am just going to breathe. What else can I do?

All I see is Love...

I just stopped to see Erika over at Be Gay About It and check out her post today and I hope you will jump over there and check out the link she posted.

When I watch that video, all I see is Love. So much beautiful, pure Love. And it made me cry, and yes, it breaks my heart too. I just don't understand, and never will, how someone, ANYONE feels that they have the right, or responsibility or mission or whatever to come between the bright shining Love I see when I watch that video...

Thanks for that Erika. Your day will come. Love WILL prevail.

Giving in...

Let me just say that giving in to pregnancy food cravings is even better than giving in to stoned food cravings...

Dude in my office gets a DQ daily special value meal EVERY DAY and EVERY DAY I sit in my office with my mouth watering to the smell of the greasy burger and french fries.

Today, I decided I just couldn't smell it without tasting it, and I just finished scarfing down the best greasy, cheesy fast food double cheeseburger and crunchy, delicious deep fried french fries I swear I have ever eaten. And while eating it, I seriously pondered over how that giving in was more fabulous than any meal I ever ate to fulfill a case of the 'munchies'...

*SIGH**

Now I just need a nap....

Snippets of life stuff...

It is getting noticeably lighter on my drive to work in the mornings...A reminder that this bitter cold, dark, restricting winter cannot last forever. Warm, green, light times full of birth and growth and fresh garden goodies and evening walks to the duck pond with L and picnics and Farmers' Markets and parades and BBQ's and bare toes in soft grass and lazy days in the sun WILL return.

*SIGH*

I must just be patient for a bit longer. It is on the horizon.

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Maybe it was the noticeably lighter drive, or the fact that the final tendrils of the flu have finally left our house, but I felt absolutely WONDERFUL on the way to work this morning...Better than I have felt in so long. I felt that 'pregnancy glow' you hear about.

I have decided that I am definitely NOT a person who loves being pregnant. I LOVE the outcome of it, and I do love PARTS of it; feeling the baby move inside of me, knowing that I am literally growing a life inside of me, the wonderful primal sense of empowerment that comes with labor and childbirth (think I am woman, hear me ROAR!), but for the most part, I could REALLY REALLY just skip this part and go right to the wonderful prize at the end. I am definitely feeling SUPER inpatient this time, and decidedly more selfish about giving my body over to this baby for 10 months + however long she/he decides to nurse, and definitely NOT reveling in the attention which is piled upon pregnant women from everyone from family to complete strangers. All of these feelings make me feel incredibly guilty. I *KNOW* the pain of wanting it SO BAD and feeling like it will never happen. I *KNOW* the pain of finally succeeding only to have the rug pulled out from underneath you just as soon as you settle into feeling comfortable and happy in your success. I *KNOW* how I would have liked to seriously murder a pregnant woman who would say these things when I was on the other side trying so desperately to get in. So I hate that I feel impatient and selfish.

This morning, though, in my moment of basking in the 'pregnancy glow' I did not feel any of these things...I was thinking about how wonderful it was going to be to feel this baby start to move around inside of me...to get to know her/his sleep and waking patterns and to see how this baby behaves differently or the same as L did in the womb. I felt really good about being right where I am at in this pregnancy, and so I only hope that as I continue to feel better in this second trimester I can continue to just sit back and enjoy this time and really relish it as probably the last time that I will ever experience growing a human being inside of me.

I just need to keep my eye on the prize...

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I have been listening to Dave Ramsey on the radio for awhile now and his guidelines and financial ideals really make sense. I have been wanting to get his book(s), and have REALLY been needing to get a handle on our money situation. We really need to actively start controlling our money, rather than wondering where the heck it goes. We should absolutely be able to have a safety net in savings much larger than what we have (we have one mortgage payment, which I realize is more than most people have, but it is really not enough.) I should not have to dread balancing the check book and paying the bills, at least not as much as I do now.

It is partly my fault...I have really been slacking on buying food for lunches for W and letting him eat fast food for lunch every day. Partly my fault for not putting my foot down and saying enough is enough, and MAKING him be accountable for the money he spends...partly my fault for marrying someone SO OPPOSITE me in our financial ideals and who has never really had to be responsible or pay attention to where to money goes (neither before his relationship with me nor since the start of it) and for never MAKING him have to take part in the responsibility of figuring out how to pay all the bills on time...We both know and have always known that were something to break up our relationship, it would be financial dischord...

So last night I sat down and did a budget. And I MADE him be a part of it. I MADE him go through it with me and SEE where the numbers come from and where the numbers go...I have done this before, and have always gotten to a point where I was tired of fighting with him on it, and we have fallen back into our same old ways. But this time, it HAS to be followed through. Things are going to be tighter than they ever have once this new baby arrives...Things beyond our control are more uncertain than ever, and we are LITERALLY one set back or disaster away from becoming a statistic. Although we may be 'okay' now, and not struggle as much as so many other people I know, we are by no means financially secure, and it is time for us to buckle down and face reality just like so many others need to do right now.

So we came to some agreements. And although I know it will still be more in my court to ensure that we both follow through, I AM making him become partly responsible for managing his money...He will no longer have his check card (something we BOTH know he is just not capable of using responsibly, as he has no connection to what's ACTUALLY left in the account) but will be getting a set amount of money each week IN CASH, and he will have to make it last and once it's gone, it's gone. I have been kind enough (as an ex-smoker) to keep his cigarettes in the budget as a necessity and they will be covered, but energy drinks and beer and whatever else he spends his freaking money on come out of his small cash allowance and once it's gone, too bad.

Sometimes I REALLY REALLY hate the fact that I have to treat him like a child in this aspect, rather than a partner...I hate that he isn't more on the same page financially as me, I hate that he is so laid back about it all and so "Oh, it will work itself out" about it (because IT doesn't just work itself out, it NEVER has, *I* work it all out) and that really, he is so immature about it. But this is who he is...he is very laid back about most everything in life, which is part of what attracts me to him...he balances my unrelenting uptightedness (is that a word??) and helps me let loose and laugh...and I knew this when I married him, and I married him despite of and because of this, all at the same time. But sometimes it is SO frustrating and tiring and makes me wonder...SIGH.

But I am hopeful and determined that this time it will stick and that he WILL learn to be at least a LITTLE bit responsible and a little bit more of a partner in this with me...And I bought a used copy of one of Dave Ramsey's books to help keep me on track and help keep me motivated.

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Oh, oh I forgot...I saw the most annoying commercial last night...annoying on so many levels.

It was for a tax debt relief company, you know 'Do you owe the IRS money? Well we can help!' and there were all these people saying 'We owed the IRS $17,000, but we only PAID $2,000!' 'We owed the IRS $200,000 but we only PAID $8,000!' and the best of all 'We owed the IRS $3 Million but we PAID less than $1 million!!"

Every admission was followed by this happy, coniving smile.

SERIOUSLY? If you owe the IRS $2K or $17K or ESPECIALLY $3 MILLION, you are obviously making some money and you have OBVIOUSLY been doing something ILLEGAL by AVOIDING PAYING YOUR FUCKING TAXES in the FIRST place, and you are PROUD that you got away with ILLEGALLY AVOIDING TAXES and THEN strapping the REST of us who PAY our taxes with your burden as you snake your way out of paying taxes that you should have paid in the first place????

Am I the only one who sees something morally wrong with this? I mean, c'mon, we all look for every break we can get when it comes to taxes, but I definitely don't AVOID my taxes and I pay my share and I definitely find it morally not acceptable to illegally avoid taxes and then brag about how I hired a fucking lawyer to beg, borrow and steal my way out of paying taxes that I evaded in the first place.

UGH, pissed me off.

Faeries, mysteriously appearing trees and suffocating anxiety...

I left the house last Friday morning dreading coming home after work, which is COMPLETELY wrong and unfair...it's simply not right to dread coming home on a Friday, but the house was a disaster. Complete and utter. There were clothes strewn all across the living room, dirty and clean intermixed, hardly a square inch of room visible through the clothing explosion. L's toys had ALL seemed to migrate from his toy room into the living room, and what wasn't covered in clothing was covered in Matchbox cars and ramps and books and balls and tractors; a severe amount of tripping hazards and toe stubbers. The kitchen counter was a mess of bills that should have been in the mail and credit card and refinancing offers and payed bill stubs that should have been filed last Spring. There was a mile high stack of dishes piled next to the sink...the kind that don't go in the dishwasher, that need to be washed by hand; the kind I HATE and will avoid like the plague. The entry/laundry/cat room was nasty; boots and scarves and recycling overflowing, cat litter strewn about (damn cats, are they NEVER going to learn to wipe their feet?!? REALLY.)

So I knew that when I got home, there would be no relaxing on a Friday night after a long week of work. My obsessive self would not leave it till Saturday morning. I would need to address the mess I had ignored all week.

That evening, when I trudged through the door lugging L and bags and purses I noticed immediately that something was not how I left it that morning. The entry was tidy and vacuumed. For a moment, I though that my wonderful husband must have vacuumed before he left that morning (for a weekend of ice fishing with 'the guys'), but that thought immediately vanished when I turned and set my purse on the dryer, which was empty and obviously wiped off.

L and I proceeded into the kitchen, and that's when I knew my cleaning faerie had paid us a visit while we were at work and daycare...the dishes were all washed and put away, save a few obscure pieces that have no visibly apparent home; these were neatly stacked on the stove top, ready to be put away. The floors were swept; no dirt and dust balls sticking to my feet as I crossed the floor. L's toys had all found their way back to his toy room, and were arranged neatly. The clothing explosion had been gathered into some sort of group in one corner of the living room and besides that, the room was SPOTLESS; all of the throw blankets folded neatly, table and entertainment center spotless and dusted.

It was the best feeling...

I love my mom. As much as she can get on my nerves and drive me fucking INSANE sometimes, she has one of the biggest hearts of anyone I know. She has done this cleaning faerie appearance on a few occasions...always seemingly when it will mean the most for me. She has a key to my house, a privilege of which she is way more respectful than I would even expect, but which I appreciate greatly. Even when I tell her to go ahead and stop in tomorrow to drop off such and such while I am at work, she will still call me when she is on her way and let me know she is dropping it off.

I called her right away and thanked her and let her know how much it especially meant to me that day. In her way, she downplayed it, and was just glad that I could relax a bit with L instead of cleaning...She said she felt it was the least she could do seeing as she forgot my 30th birthday earlier this month (Yeah, my mom, the birthday queen herself, forgot her own daughters 30th birthday!?!) and I assured her that this was a gift greater than ANY card or well wishes.

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Since W was out of town and L and I were all on our own this weekend, I decided to treat L and I to a cheeseburger and fries at this place instead of chowing down on mac-n-cheese or corndogs for lunch. As I was cresting the hill into this little town, I noticed a tree that seemed out of place...an empty branched winter tree sitting just beyond the ditch in the field at the side of the road, all by itself...I could not, for the life of me, recall EVER seeing this tree there, and yet, it was apparently NOT a new tree...it was well established, it had to be a good 20 years old judging by the size. A tree, I could not recall seeing, on a road that I have traveled LITERALLY THOUSANDS of times in my life; riding in the car, driving in the car, on foot, on bicycle. I could drive this road in my sleep...I can name every house along that 2 mile stretch, I can picture all of the fields and barns and silos and hills and valleys in my head...I had passed this spot thousands of times, and yet this tree, which jumped out at me this day, had never caught my eye before.

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I have been feeling the anxiety creeping in lately, trying to break down my walls and wrap it's (ITS, even - damn preggo brain) bony fingers around my neck...I have been beating it back; barely. At times I feel the shortness of breath and tightening of chest starting to overtake me.

I am scared about W's job security, and in turn our financial security. I am nervous once again about how we will afford this addition to our family. I fear how much worse is worse before better comes along? I can't handle unknowns and uncertainties...

I hate that FINANCES can do this to me. WTF. I hate that I feel this way when there are those that are so much worse off than us.

I hate that there is a part of me that knows that as long as we have each other and our love, the rest is all unimportant, and yet, that part of me is not strong enough to overcome the fear and anxiety.