Christmas

Are you tired of hearing about it yet?

Finn's first Christmas was wonderful. The ONLY bad thing about the entire experience was that his Aunt Ashley wasn't here. He got some amazing things: a pedal car, a sled, so many books and toys he hasn't even opened all of them yet. He was amazing, no crying, no tantrums, just a sweet angel.

Christmas Eve was spent at our house with Randy's family, and my parents stopped by too. It was relaxing, until the gingerbread house competition began, and then things got ugly pretty quickly. But, while I know there are others that don't share my unique sense of competitiveness, it was ugly in my favorite kind of way. I love competition.

Obviously...wait, I mean shockingly, Betty and I won the competition by a landslide, which made it even better.

Christmas day we opened Santa gifts at our house, Finn took a nap, and then we went to the Hoyle's for Christmas brunch. It was relaxing, and delicious, and perfect timing for Finn (so much is about timing). We then left to go to my parents house, and our timing fell apart a bit. We put Finn to sleep, and skyped with Ashley, and then our present-opening plan fell apart. My aunts and uncles showed up and so we didn't get to open gifts with our family first. We ate dinner, and got everything ready and then by the time we opened gifts, it was a free-for-all and insane and I didn't get to see my parents open their gift, or my nieces open their gifts. Finn was tired, and so not into it at that moment. He actually just wanted to play with Addy's shopping cart, and then he pushed her down so he could get to it...awkward.

But overall, Christmas was a wonderful success. I hope, so much, that I can bring the magic of Christmas to my children, so here's hoping that it works out that way. I know he will understand it so much more next year.

Okay, this blog is totally pointless...and I didn't think about it at all. Here's a picture to appease you, and I'll see you later.

Sometimes...

I forget how lucky I am.



Then, I look at him, and I remember.

"I was on MY high school paper."

There may be nothing IN THE WORLD that I hate hearing more than the phrase, "I was on my high school paper." Because...and I'm just going to say it, it's not the same.

The paper and yearbook I advise are serious. They do not have a gossip column, they have an argument each and every year about the journalistic integrity of publishing "senior bests." These kids are well-trained, and know journalism, know GOOD journalism. It's not a class or a club to them--it's a lifestyle. They live it and they breathe it. They know more about it than I do. They say things like "jerd" and "yerd" and "pica" and "do you think this should be a 10 or 11 font size" and debate it for hours. They want perfection, and they work damn hard to achieve their goals.

So when some jackass comes into my room, and says "Well, I was on my high school paper" what I want to say to you (but don't...because I CAN'T) is...

"I know where you went to school, and the fact that you were on some shitty, backwards, thrown together newspaper 10 years ago, at a school from 'the other side of the tracks' doesn't effing matter to me. The fact that you can throw around the most known court case in scholastic journalism history doesn't impress me either. Your experience making a crappy, half-assed 8 page paper four times a year contemplating the lives of exchange students, the best places to go for pizza or what you did over your summer break, doesn't even come close to the amount of work these kids (you'll notice I NEVER say me) do for this paper. They work their ASSES off for this paper, and you coming in here and demoralizing them by having the audacity to compare their work to the work you did in high school is horse-shit. Please don't hand me any of your 'advice' about censoring my students even more than you already have. Please don't give me 'suggestions' about changing my critique session (which has been the same for the last 40 years, the day AFTER publication) to BEFORE publication, because you think I should read and edit every damn word. I am not an editor, I am an adviser...learn the difference--quickly."

Now, let me be clear. Journalism is awesome, and if you were on your high school publications--YOU ARE TOO! Journalism makes you smart, it makes you think critically, and I think you are great; unless by saying "I was on my high school newspaper" you REALLY mean, "I know how to do this job BETTER than you." because you fucking don't.

Censorship

Okay, so (some of you) may know this, but I am very much against censorship. I am a journalism teacher and firmly believe in our right to self-expression.

However, lately in my life I have been finding myself censoring myself so, SO much. And I am trying to decide if this is "growth" or "copping-out"--because I honestly don't know.

I've had a rough few weeks. Now, this is going to be a bit whiny, and since no one reads (or comments) on this blog, I guess I just don't care. Nothing big or bad has happened. I am a very lucky person. I have a great life, but sometimes I just get into a funk, and I'm going to bitch about it. So deal.

So anyways, I've been feeling super lonely lately--like I want to cry, and hide in the closet, lonely. Like I look at my phone and think to myself "who can I call that will really listen to me" and no one comes to mind. This makes me sad. Now, don't get me wrong, I have great friends, but sometimes they get caught up in their own lives (jerks!), just like I do. And they tend to talk about themselves, or try to relate to me, or just don't listen. This is fine, seriously, it is. But I want someone to listen to me, and not to say "It'll be fine" or "you're lucky" or something equally as trite. i want someone to bitch with me. I want my sister.

Ashley has now been in Dublin for almost 5 months, and I just want her to be back, because there is no one that can listen to me bitch like Ashley can, and there's no one in the world that understands me like she does. Not even Randy. I miss her so much, and I think this is why I have been so crabby, and depressed lately. I miss her, and I can't do anything about it.

So, back to my original purpose...censorship. When I feel this way, there is probably about 343484563845603480 times a day where I want to say things to people...whether it's other teachers, kids, my husband, friends, or family. I want to tell them they are wrong, I want to tell them that they are dumb, and "why don't you listen to me" and "if you don't agree with me you're stupid," "you're a know-it-all" or "I thought of that first" or "I told you that, don't steal my lines" or "shut up" but I don't.

I let them talk, I let them say their piece, and I try my GD best to not say a word. Is this the right thing to do? Is this me being "mature"? I know the answer is probably, but I miss just being a bitch. I miss just saying whatever I want, and to hell with the consequences.

Maybe that's why I keep thinking about Ashley--I never have to censor myself in front of her...EVER. We have a lot of the same viewpoints, but we also respect each other. If I think she's being an idiot, I tell her; and she does the same--she will straight up tell me that I'm being a bitch--and that's a good thing. It might even turn into a huge fight, but we will always be best friends--even when we hate eachother.

I hate feeling lonely.

Random addendum:
I am also feeling confused...about what to do, where to go, who to be. How do I turn my life into what I want it to be? How do I grow my photography company? How should I do these things? I am lost. Stupid Ashley--come home.

Stepping into the Future.

Last week Finn took his first steps. It was really cool. He would take 1-2 steps, and then kind of leap into my arms. It happened on December 2.

It's awesome, but crazy. I'm still kind of in denial that this little baby...ummm, toddler? Is mine. It's so fun to watch him grow.

He says "Bye-bye" (when he wants to) and "no." He smiles and laughs and vrooms all over the place. He waves. He points. He gives kisses.

He loves so much, and sleeps so hard,and crawls so fast, and wants to be with mommy all the time. I love that.

Dorks unite!

Okay, so if you know me...even just through this blog, you know that I am a serious dork. Like, hardcore. Not just your average day-to-day dork.

The kind of dork that saw the original Twilight movie 11 times in the theater, the kind of dork that sobbed when the final Lord of the Rings movie came out because "it's over!" The kind of dork that has a tattoo in elvish on her foot. The kind of dork that becomes a bit depressed after each Harry Potter movie/book, and after each Twilight movie/book because I can't quite piece together in my head how it's fair that Bella Swan gets to be a vampire and I don't. Or how Hermione Granger got her letter to Hogwarts when she was 11 and I didn't.

Yeah, that kind of dork.

So, I felt somewhat justified in straying away from the day-to-day boredom of my life, and delve into a little bit of vampire love.

So, Breaking Dawn has been out for a little bit almost two weeks at this point. And, I'm slightly ashamed to tell you (except, not really--I'm really pretty proud of it) that I have seen it 4 times at this point, and each time I see it I become more and more disgruntled that I am NOT a vampire, and even more disgruntled that Edward Cullen does NOT love me. Like, seriously, where is my Edward?

And, I know, I know. Randy is great. Seriously--he is. I think he's (almost) as close to Edward Cullen as a mere human can get. But, I'm telling you that Randy knows that if Edward showed up tomorrow, I would leave him. And I am 100% sure if Alice Cullen showed up...Randy would run away with her.

Now, here's what I want to talk about. Renesme. We will not even go into how stupid that name is. We won't even go there.

I want to talk about how motherhood has changed my entire life, even my view on these books.

I read all the Twilight books pre-Finn. I remember thinking (vividly) during Breaking Dawn something like "HOW COULD BELLA DO THIS TO EDWARD? WHAT IS SHE THINKING?" while she is carrying that baby. I remember being furious at her for putting him through that. At one point I threw that book at the wall I was so mad at her.

Now, anyone who knows me knows that I am fervently pro-choice. I still am. I think that it should be the mother's decision every time. While I may not agree with the reasons, it is not my decision. It's one of the reasons that it surprises me that I wasn't more angry at Edward, who at one point talks about tying Bella down and forcing her to "get rid of" the baby. Why wasn't I upset by that? Why didn't I support Bella making that choice?

Well...2-3 years later, re-reading the book and seeing the movie...and my views change DRASTICALLY. Now, I can't see any other option for Bella. I completely, 100% understand her love for that little baby, I understand how she loves Edward so much, and that makes her love the baby more intense.

You see how seriously I take these books? I know it's slightly insane.

But honestly, I am constantly surprised at the many ways that motherhood has changed me. Changed me in a way that I never imagined, never anticipated and changed me down to the core of my being. It's amazing.

At one point Bella says (in the movie) "it's not his choice--it's not any of yours" and I completely understand her intense love for that child at that moment.

Sorry to bore you with my dorkiness, but not really.

A million different directions.

Finn's first plane ride :)
Finn at the Mall of America pointing at some fishies.

This weekend was...well, interesting to say the least. This is the weekend, this ONE weekend a year that I take students on a trip for the National Journalism convention. We spend four days together bonding and learning about what good journalism is. It is actually much better than it sounds.

Well, I have been dreading this trip for months, not because of my students, but because I would be going on this four day trip to Minneapolis with Finn, and my friend Chrisanne, and her little one Tenley. Now, seriously I love these babies so much, but two babies on a plane ride and trying to entertain them, and 12 teenagers was a little daunting to me...and by a little I mean a lot. Like nightmares a lot. Like, I was shaking when we left the house to go on this trip. I just couldn't quite wrap my head around how it was going to go.

Well, we are home, and we survived. That's really all I can say. The trip was...full. I took Finn to the doctor on Wednesday, well, not the doctor, because the doctor couldn't get me in (of course)...so we went to urgent care. They said "his ears are clear" in a thick accent. I thought "you're all full of shit" in an American accent.

Sure enough, we fly to Minneapolis on Thursday morning, and cart those wonderful babies around from 4:30 am to 7:30 pm and they were angels the entire time...we went on a school bus, plane ride, shuttle bus ride, hotel check-in, city bus ride, train ride, back on the train and bus again, they were AMAZING. But he woke up on Friday worse than I've ever seen him. It was awful. We then walked 8 blocks away from our hotel (through the GHETTO) to find a CVS minute clinic, I burst into tears when she told me that she could only see kids over 18 months, we walked another 2 blocks through the ghetto to get to another urgent care clinic, they saw him and...who would have thought? A double ear infection.

(Oh wait...I know who would have thought...me. That's right. That's exactly what I said on Wednesday...idiots).

So now my baby is in Minneapolis, where we are supposed to watch 12 teenagers, sick as a dog. He stayed in most of the day on Friday. Saturday the kids went to their classes, and after classes they wanted to go see a movie (well, really they wanted to go back to the Mall of America, but I told them no). So we decided to walk through the skyway (which Minneapolis has all around the city) because it had snowed about 3 inches earlier in the day. It was a labrynth, and completely annoying. But we made it.

About half of the kids wanted to see a movie, and the other half wanted to just go back to the hotel. So we went to Jimmy John's and tried to figure out how to get back to the hotel. Our three options were:

1. Wait for a cab for an hour

2. Walk 7 blocks in the snow and cold

3. Walk the half-hour back through the labrynth of a skyway.

Appealing options, right?

And it was at this exact moment, sitting in a Jimmy Johns with one of my best friends, who had just gotten yelled at because she didn't hear the Jimmy John's worker yell out my sandwich I had an epiphany. This is the exact thing that I've been trying to explain to everyone. This is a perfect example of how I feel almost every day. Right here in Jimmy Johns I am making decisions in my head about 14 kids and 2 adults. I had a sick, whining, almost passed out baby in his carrier who needed to go home, who shouldn't have been out of the hotel. I had 7 kids waiting for me to make a decision about what we were going to do, I had 5 more kids whom I had just made a promise to me to call me as soon as they were done with the movies, and that they would take a cab home. And I wasn't making the right decisions for anyone.

That's how I feel daily. Like I am failing everyone. My students really wanted to go to the mall of america, but I didn't take them because I didn't want to cart Finn & Tenley around all night. So my students suffer. I take Finn out while he's sick and crabby because I wanted my students to have fun while they were in Minneapolis, so Finn suffers. I was failing everyone all at the same time, and it was an awful realization.

I felt like I was being pulled in so many different directions---good teacher? Good mother? I was failing at both of these things. I felt like a bad mother because I was carting my sick child through cold streets while he felt horrible. I felt like a bad teacher because I wasn't letting my students have the fun they deserved to have in Minneapolis, and because I had them in two different locations. I felt like a bad friend because I was dragging my friend and her baby around to all of this as well.

I still don't know what the right conclusion is. What do I do? I don't know. I just want to be better. Because if there's one thing I learned from this insane trip is that these kids deserve it. All of these kids...my baby, Tenley, and all 12 of the teenagers who were with us (teenagers [who so many people say are dragging down this country] helped two crazy mothers carry their babies and their baby-equipment around the city for four days without ONCE complaining or being asked)--they are all amazing and they deserve the best, and I wish I could give them what they deserved.

Weekend to weekend.

I have never been a person that thoroughly dislikes my job. There are aspects of every job that are...let's say, LESS than enjoyable. But overall, my job is pretty great. I love my students, and I love what I teach. And, other than the intense amounts of grading...and, in my case, the ridiculous hours, it's a pretty good gig.

Well, lately a lot has happened that has caused me to...totally change my mind. The way teachers are regarded, the way they are treated, the lack of control they are given to do their jobs, and the micro-managing that is becoming part of the daily routine is somewhat sickening to me.

For the first time ever...I really can say that I do not like my job anymore. I still love my kids. I still love the subjects I teach, but my job...I kind of hate it.

I know that the first thing that has changed is the fact that I had Finn. And nothing is as fabulous as that child. It is definitely still ridiculously sad to leave Finn, but once I get to school it's not like I was counting down the minutes (most days), but lately it's just different. I feel sad to get there, and sad while I am there much of the time.

Recently, a lot of drama has happened, and I really can say for the first time that I am living weekend to weekend. I just countdown each week until I can be home with my angel for the weekend, and don't have to go to work. How sad.

This weekend was awesome. I spent two days with my sister-in-law/one of my best friends and brother in law, along with Randy and Finn in South Haven, Michigan. We spent time laughing, playing (or, in Randy's case--cheating at) Rack-o, shopping and (Randy and Mike) drinking. It was super fun.

Then, my best friend Allison came to visit, and it was just so damn nice to see her. We were able to hang out all day, and then go see Footloose with ANOTHER one of my bff's Chrisanne. It was so much fun, I can't remember laughing that hard in a long time--Allison's inappropriateness is something that is hilarious on so many levels.

So now, it's Tuesday night, and I have to go back to school tomorrow. And all I can think about is how I am living weekend to weekend.

So, only three days until the weekend....again :)

Please Fire Me.

Do you ever think to yourself....I wish that I would get fired so that I never ever EVER have to come back here again?

That's where I'm at today.

I hate my job.

It's going so fast.

Finn is nine months old...yesterday. He was due nine months ago TODAY.

So many people say to me, "Aren't you sad that it's going by so fast?"

The short answer is "Yes." Yes I am. But the long answer is better.

I am sad that he is growing, BUT I love him more and more every day. Each day Finn wakes up and it's an adventure. It is new, and exciting, and fun and beautiful. Every day I get to watch him grow more and more into the person who he is, each day I get the absolute honor of watching him become who he is meant to be.

It is my absolute joy. It is the most wonderful present I could ever ask for.

I hope one day Finn will know how wonderful he is, and how much I love him. I actually already think he knows. It is my utter pleasure to be his mommy.

This month Finn:

- Loves to eat ALL BY HIMSELF, he likes to pick up his own food.

- Loves to walk using his walker. He goes very fast.

- Loves to bounce up and down.

- Loves to snuggle Mommy and Daddy and Ella

- Loves to bang things on the table, or anywhere really

- Loves kids

- Loves watching the trees

- loves to read, turn pages and listen to stories

- Loves to give kisses

- Loves goldfish, and puffs, and not-so-much the organic veggie bites.

He is amazing, and we love him more each day.

Simplification.

Last night was pretty awful. I had parent-teacher conferences, which is it's own brand of awful (for the record, I had good parents and they were very appreciative of what I do, so I'm not complaining too much about it). After parent-teacher conferences, I went back to my room where my students were still feverishly working to complete the Crier. We finished (amazingly enough) at 7:59, which was ONE MINUTE early. That has never happened before. I got in my car, and drove home. I nursed Finn and then got a phone call. From our printer. There was a problem. I had to go BACK to school.

While driving back to school I thought to myself, "I can't remember the last time I gave Finn a bath, but I'm pretty sure it's been close to a week." After coming to this disturbing realization, I've come to the following conclusion: I do too much. I need to simplify my life.

- NO more elaborate Christmas presents. Yes, Christmas is my favorite time of the year, and I love doing nice things for people, but it's just too much. If I've done something elaborate for you in the past, I'm sorry but it's over.

- No more making my own baby food and cloth diapering. It's too time consuming--and screw trying to do my best to better my child's life. Also, I am done researching milestones, vaccines, and everything else child-related. Let the cards fall where they will. And that ENT--no time for that either.

- That flabby gut I'm holding onto--I'm leaving it there, no need to worry about eating right or working out. Being healthy is just silly.

- Speaking of health--that pain in my wrist that's been there for months, it's staying there. The mole on my arm that I'm pretty sure is pre-cancerous that I haven't had time to go to the doctor for--it's staying too. The tooth that hurts, I can't take off work so I'll wait until my appointment on December 10, SIMPLIFY!

- Oh yeah, and Finn you don't need a baby book, or an elaborate first birthday party that will cost a lot of money--birthday, schmirthday. Also, those letters I started writing you to read when you are older--unnecessary; totally unnecessary.

- The house, I can't remember the last time I cleaned it anyways, so it'll just stay dirty.

- Oh, and my job, I need to stop planning lessons, and loving my students, and trying to help them because that's just too much.

Are you catching my drift yet? I take on too much, I get that; but, what do I cut out? All of these things are important. The things that are suffering are the ones that matter--the little things that make memories. I don't half-ass things, that's not me. Lately, I have been half-assing everything and anything. I hate it. I don't know what to do.

Sorry for the crabbiness, and self-loathing today guys. I know you've gotta be getting sick of it.

Just took a good 5 minutes trying to think of a title...no luck.

Yeah, so I just left the doctor AGAIN, and Finn has a double ear infection (one is "REALLY" infected) AGAIN. I feel so discouraged. I feel like I am doing something wrong, and I even said, in a voice that was dangerously close to tears, "Is there something that we SHOULD be doing?"

The doctor that I've been seeing said, "no" and left the room.

And I came back to school.

Does that seem odd to you?

Me too.

I am irate about the fact that I called up that bitch on Saturday and told her that he was sick, and that I thought he had an ear infection and she said "Is he running a fever?" That is my least favorite question on the planet....because unless he just got shots, he NEVER runs a fever. I never ran a fever as a child either, so WHY IS THE FEVER THE END-ALL, BE-ALL OF SICKNESS?

So when she looks in his ear and says "Oh this one is bulging and really infected" and I want to deck her in her effing face because I KNEW IT and she should have done something on Saturday, because my angel has been in pain for two days because of her dumbass.

So this has swirled into a full out depression, and feeling very sorry for myself. I feel like there are very few people who understand me, and one of them is thousands of miles away. I am lucky that the others are here, but I'm lonely.

I am feeling very alone, and very misunderstood. I feel like everyone thinks I'm nuts, and people think I'm some crazy hippie (merging several topics at the moment...and p.s. I'm calling this a freewrite, because I don't care and will not edit or reread in any way, shape or form).

So I'm sitting here listening to John Lennon & Dave Matthews, because at least they are hippies too.

I don't know what my problem is, but it pisses me off that I had to come back to school tonight, and that I have to leave Finn again tomorrow, and that I feel like I'm doing something wrong when all I ever try to do is the best that I can for him, and I feel like everyone thinks I'm nuts, and don't know what I'm talking about.

So I'm done, and here's some John Lennon for ya.

"People say I'm crazy doing what I'm doing
Well they give me all kinds of warnings to save me from ruin
When I say that I'm o.k. well they look at me kind of strange
Surely you're not happy now you no longer play the game

People say I'm lazy dreaming my life away
Well they give me all kinds of advice designed to enlighten me
When I tell them that I'm doing fine watching shadows on the wall
Don't you miss the big time boy you're no longer on the ball

I'm just sitting here watching the wheels go round and round
I really love to watch them roll
No longer riding on the merry-go-round
I just had to let it go."

Pumpkin Patch

Those eyes, those eyes!



This weekend was so great :) We went over to Betty and Mike's house on Friday night; the pumpkin patch on Saturday morning, my parents house to carve pumpkins on Saturday night, and then shopping and co-op with Betty on Sunday. It was so good. It made coming back to work today really hard. :(

BUT, I'm being positive, and sharing some of our fun at the pumpkin patch. Oh, and did I mention I bought my new, totally awesome, best-camera-on-the-planet camera...and it's BA. LOVE IT!
Finn was tuckered out by the time we were done picking pumpkins, and fell asleep with Daddy in the Ergo. Sweetest boy ever. He woke up again for pumpkin carving later that night :)

This will be over too soon.

A lot of my friends have been posting recently about their babies sleeping through the night lately, and it was starting to get to me. Not in an, "I wish their babies wouldn't sleep" way; but, in a "what am I doing wrong?" kind of way.

So, on Tuesday night Randy went to a dinner for work, and Finn and I were on our own. I put him down to sleep (in our bed...I know, he STILL sleeps in our bed, and I don't care) around 8:15 and spent some time editing pictures and taking a shower. It has not been a good week for sleeping, so I crawled into bed around 9:00 and by 9:15 my little one had plastered his entire body against me.

I felt his breathing, and listed to him for a few minutes. For a split second, I thought "here's to another great night's sleep" (sarcastically, in case it wasn't obvious).

Then, it happened, he sighed and smiled in his sleep, and his sweet little arm moved, and his soft skin brushed against mine. I thought, ' this will be over too soon.' There will come a time where he will want to be away from me--when he won't even let me hug him, let alone rub his back, pat his little tush, or kiss him all over...and I"ll miss it so much more than I can even imagine.

So I snuggled close to my angel, and sighed...and smiled right along with him; and I fell right to sleep. It wasn't a great night's sleep, it wasn't even good, but I can tell you, I wasn't complaining.

The illness that wouldn't die.

So, at my house...we have been sick for 3 (almost 4) weeks straight.

I am not exaggerating. At all.

First, Finn started feeling icky and got a "croupy" cough. I took him to the doctor. He was diagnosed with a double ear infection and "mild" croup. He was given 10 days of antibiotic. He loved the first antibiotic, but it gave him serious diarrea. Nothing but fun for ten days, but he got better and it seemed to be gone. He got off the medication on a Monday, and started up with the "croup" cough on the Sunday night BEFORE he stopped the antibiotic.

So, he went to daycare, was super crabby on Monday, and when I picked him up Laura said, you need to take him in again. I called the doctor right away, called off for Tuesday and brought him in. That night was awful, he was wheezing and coughing. Croup sounds (pretty much) like the worst thing on the planet. He had to get a breathing treatment the next day (which is the worst thing ever, and completely heart breaking).

So now he had "Moderate" croup. And was given steroid treatment for 4 days, the croup seemed to be easing up, but the cough was getting worse, as did the crabbiness and the runny nose.

Randy took off Thursday and made a doctor's appointment for him again. He was diagnosed with his SECOND double ear infection, and given a different antibiotic.

It terrifies me that this child doesn't act differently when he has ear infections. It's not that I want him to scream, but I want to know what is wrong. Now, I'll bring him in for any tiny little thing that goes wrong :(

So, we thought maybe we were out of the woods this Monday, when we decided that Finn was okay to go back to daycare on Tuesday. But then, Randy seemed to get a flu-like thing on Monday night, and then I ended up going to the Minute Clinic on Tuesday and they put me on an antibiotic for a sinus infection, except my throat keeps getting worse. Today is the first day that it feels even slightly better.

Yesterday I thought I was going to cry whenever I swallowed because it hurt so bad.

So, apparently our house is a death trap. Do not come over, do not even get CLOSE because you don't want what we got.

I have two photo shoots this weekend, one is a senior shoot so I think I'll be okay for that one, but tomorrow morning I have a huge family shoot, and I can't shoot a family without my voice. Grrr.

Being sick is annoying.


**I apologize for all the spelling errors, and lack of proofreading, and lack of attention to any sort of detail in this post (even moreso than others), because I just can't bring myself to give a fuck today.

Excuse the language...

whatever.

8 months old

In one day, my baby will be 8 months old. Eight months old. Can you believe it? Because I can't.

This is a bittersweet moment, as is every month that passes. My baby is another month older, another month closer to being a toddler, or a child, or a teenager, or a (gulp!) adult. But, at the same time it is so gosh darn cool too. I love watching him grow, I love watching him become who he is going to be. Because he has such a personality already, and from what I see he is going to be awesome (biased? Maybe, but he totally is).

In month 7 of Finn's life he has had a lot of fun, and a few bad times. He has gotten to be QUITE the expert at pulling himself up, and finding a way to get back down. At the beginning of the month it was more of a "plop" and now he slowly lets himself back into a sitting position, with a very sweet 'plie' type move. It is so adorable.

He also is an expert crawler, and he knows exactly what he wants. He sometimes crawls with one leg up and one leg down, and he can also walk along the furniture. He is quite the mover and shaker. It is seriously cool, and a little bit scary.

He has also become so much more vocal, he says "DA DA DA" all the time, and "Ba ba ba" and "La la la" and "ya ya" and "ha ha" and then YESTERDAY he said "Ma ma ma." I was terribly happy about it, because I feel like it is truly one of life's cruel jokes that babies say "dada" before "mama." I want to scream "YOU BIT MY NIPPLES" or "I DELIVERED YOU WITH NO DRUGS" sometimes when he does it.

He has gone to the orchard, played with his new friend's at Ms. Laura's and gotten his first cold. He also had croup for his first AND second time, and a double ear infection for the first time, and had "real" medicine for the first AND second time.

He claps now.
And SOMETIMES waves hi to people.

He knows how to turn pages when we read books.
He LOVES Mary Poppins and smiles at her when she sings.

He loves Mommy and he loves Daddy, but I am pretty sure that he loves Ella most of all. And I am consistently amazed by how wonderful Ella is with him, ever patient and sweet.

He has visited "the pub" several times, and Target (which he loves)--he also sat in the actual seat at Target for the first time.

He is STILL the happiest, sweetest, best baby that I have ever met. I wish he understood how happy he makes me, how wonderful he is and how much he is loved; he will one day.

Until then, it's been an amazing 8 months.

Coughs...

Yeah. I am losing it, seriously and completely. I am sitting here listening to Finn hardly be able to breathe while waiting to take him to the doctor again. All the while knowing that I have to go back to school with him afterwards. I have to take my sick child to school with me so that the Crier gets done on time.

Randy said today, "just kick them out" and while I understand the thought process...I signed up for this. One of the things we talked about during the interview was how much time I would have to spend there; one does not come without the other one.

I feel like a bad mom, I feel like an awful teacher, I feel like I am drowning at home, as a mother, teacher and wife.

Bad, bad day listening to the little angel's bad, bad cough.

Here's the kicker...

So...yesterday was a bad day. Randy was leaving for three days (yuck). Finn is still having issues because of his medicine (yuck). I hadn't slept well (YUCK). And I was running late (as usual).

So, I went to school. I taught two classes, I did so crabbily (it's a word...yes it is. Don't give me any sass.). After 2nd hour is the first time that I pump at school. It's the beginning of my plan, and it sucks...literally and figuratively. So I turn on my pump, and it doesn't work...at all, the stupid light doesn't even turn on. I start freaking out. Like seriously freaking out. My thought stream went something like this...

"ohmyeffinggod. whattheheckamisupposedtodo? I canNOT believe that this is happening, I have a meeting at 10, I can't even leave to go to the store."

I pick up and call Randy (mistake #1).

Me: My breast pump is completely dead.

Randy: Are the batteries dead?leave

Me: NO RANDY I DON'T CALL YOU when my batteries are dead. I am not an idiot.

Randy: Just go home and plug it in.

Me: I don't have time.

Randy: You don't have time to do anything. So it's a moot point. That's what I would do.

Me: I need to buy a new pump.

Randy: that's $200, that's stupid.

Me: I HATE YOU ()*)(*$)#*$)Q(*R_A)*WR)_EA*_A)*(R_)ES*$)#*$A How could you possibly not understand how my job works? I can't just leave? I am stuck here. Why are you so ever-loving dumb.

Randy: uhhhh...

Me: Click (that was me hanging up in case you didn't catch it.)

Still freaking out, crying, and getting more and more frustrated, I try again. Still doesn't work. But I have to go to this meeting, it's for a post-observation.

I go, I sit, I freak out.

I finish right at the end of my plan, so I have no time.

Study hall...at this point, my boobs hurt. I ALWAYS pump twice a day. ALWAYS.

I decide that I'll go to target during lunch (after 2-3 more phone calls/freak-outs with Randy because he doesn't understand me/why this is a problem/etc.). This means that I have to kick my over-achieving kids out of my room, because they always stay in my room during lunch, run to target, not eat, and get candy for the little beggers who (when I tell them why I am kicking them out of my room--to go to target) beg me to buy them candy. I seriously run through target, and if you've seen my fat-ass run lately, it is QUITE amusing. I buy the cheapest, most ridiculous looking breast pump ever, and candy (God FORBID I forget the candy), and RUN my butt back to school. I then get back into the school, and have to leave to go pump.

It takes me ten minutes (when I should be in class), to put the stupid thing together, my boobs STILL in pain, and I get it together, press the on button, the light goes on, I hear the weird suction-y sound (YES that's a word too. Shut it.), and I think YES, except it doesn't work. I can't FOR THE LIFE OF ME figure out how to get it to work.

I completely lose my shit. Like COMPLETELY lose it. Start crying, start freaking out, "what if my milk supply drops because of this?" "what if I leak all over the place while I'm teaching 6th hour" WHAT AM I GOING TO DO?

After that 10-15 minute breakdown, I text Laura and beg her to hold finn off for one feeding.

I run out the door at 2:45, get to Laura's by 2:52, home by 3:00, feeding Finn by 3:01.

Afterwards, I try to plug in my pump, and here's the kicker.

It was set up wrong. The suction thing-y (I know, I know), was plugged into the power part. That was what was wrong the ENTIRE TIME.

The entire thing was a fabrication in my mind. I created all that drama in my head.

I went to bed thinking, "tomorrow has GOT to be better."

Before 7 am I had been peed on twice and pooped on once. Today was still better.

Unsolicited Advice...yeah.

So, I have about 485 things that I should be doing. Like, I should be grading papers, planning lessons, GRADING PAPERS, preparing for an observation today, etc. etc. etc.

BUT, I had to stop in and let you know that I think that my least favorite part of parenting is unsoliticited GD advice. Can I give everyone, all 6 of you that read this, a word of advice? Let people raise their children how they want to. Seriously.

Today, I came into school, and there was a substitute, a sub who was a teacher when I went here, a crazy, batty old lady. She asks me "Who is watching Finn?" and I start talking about Laura, and how much we like her and yadayadayada. She then launches into this tirade.

Her: "Just don't OVER-parent, some parents are crazy and they won't let their kids eat any sugar, or strawberries (in a mocking tone) 'what if they are allergic?' well if they are allergic you aren't going to know anyways. You just shouldn't OVER-mother your kids."

My head: Blank stare, processing, in head 'get the f&*( away from me lady'

Her: "...and I hope you're using throw-away diapers, the regular diapers are a double-wash you know? They are awful."

My head: Aghast stare....seriously what the f&*^& am I supposed to say to that? Huh? Am I supposed to regale this psycho with the 10 reason that I know off the top of my head why cloth diapering is a good choice (if it's something you want to do)? No. So I just stare at her.

Her: (clearly feeling awkward that I am not saying anything) How's Randy? Is he involved?

Me: Yes,I never thought he wouldn't be. Randy is a great dad.

Her: That's great, that's important

My head: No shit. Obviously that was something I thought about it our 11 years together, that Randy would be present in our children's lives. GET AWAY FROM ME.

Her: (once again feeling awkward because I am not responsive) okay well have a good day.

Me: You too
My head: You suck. I hate you for starting my morning like this. I hope you stub your toe, or get a giant paper-cut.

Yeah, happy morning to all of you.

Sick Angel

So...yes, Finn is still sick. It has been a BAD week. It all started last Friday. Finn (still) had a cold. We went to bed at 10:00, I woke up at 11:15 to projectile vomit coming at me. I literally was dripping in vomit (yes, Finn still sleeps in our bed...deal), I got up and woke Randy up while crying and shaking.

"Hold him while I change my shirt."

My poor baby angel kept vomiting and heaving for the next hour. He finally fell asleep in his Daddy's arms. Randy then fabricated a sleeping arrangement for Finn which included blankets, towels an his carseat. It looked...like this.

I called the doctor during all of this, and he said that we shouldn't feed him, and that there was really nothing they could do, and since he wasn't running a fever he was probably fine.

What you said? I called the doctor, and actually talked to him? YES! My doctor PICKED UP HIS CELL PHONE AND TALKED TO ME at 11:30 on a Friday night. I love him.

We waited. The next day, he had a bad cold, but no more vomiting.

On Sunday night, I got a terrible headache and assumed that I was catching what Finn had, we went to bed early and were mostly fine. Woke up on Monday, and Finn was still coughing. I decided to take the day off. While I was off, we actually had a good day. Around 10am I thought that we probably should have just gone to school/work, but it was a nice day.

All week long he had a runny nose, and this weird deep creepy cough, but didn't seem terribly sick. We kept taking his temperature, we kept watching for ear-grabbing, crying, etc. But there wasn't any.

I picked him up from Laura's on Thursday and she said that he woke up screaming from his nap. If you've ever met Finn you know that he is not a screamer, he is not a crier, he is not a whiner. He is seriously the perfect child. I am not exaggerating, not even a little bit. I know he's mine, and so I am biased, but I am not the only one who says it. He's just so darn sweet. So we knew that this was bad.


Also, last night another one of the teachers I work with posted on facebook that her little girl had croup, which is basically a nasty cough, so after looking up a ton of information, and finding out that this cough sounded like a "seal" bark, we decided that this is probably what it was.

I called the doctor on the way home and made an appointment for today. So Randy took off this morning, and I took off this afternoon (AGAIN!). I got a video of the cough. I saw a different doctor than I normally do, so I wasn't sure.

She came in (by the way my giant baby weighs 19 lbs 9 ounces) and I told her about the symptoms, and I told her about the cough and how I thought it was croup (and how another kid in his daycare had it).

And she SCOFFS at me. She seriously looked at me like, "uhh, NO that's NOT it." So I get irritated, because it all goes back to when I always have to lie to my own doctor to get antibiotics for sinus infections EVERY time I go. Whatever. I got pissed, and I pulled out "THE VIDEO" and she looks at it and hears the cough, and then determines that "He has a mild case of croup." Yeah bitch, I know.

Anyways, he also has a DOUBLE ear infection. My poor baby angel. So we went at got him medicine, and he LOVED the medicine (thank God), and the medicine also brought me back to my childhood (Love that smell).

He started on medicine at 2:00pm, and he should be back to his sweet self by early tomorrow, though he is already such an angel child I can't imagine him getting any sweeter.

Did I mention that...

1. This is all my fault.
2. Slimy daycare kids.

I am so ridiculous.

Insanity

My day has been the epitome of insanity.

Finn and I went to sleep last night around 10, we woke up at 11:15 to lots and lots of puke. Then an hour of dry heaving, with more puke mixed into it. It was not fun.

I had to call the doctor at 11:30 at night, and I loved him even more for answering, and talking to me like a sane person, talking me down from a crazy, crying frenzy. Instructions: keep him sitting up, don't feed him until morning, keep checking him for fever.

Then he woke up at 3:00, and I wasn't supposed to feed him, so it was very difficult to get him back to sleep. He woke up again at 7:00am.

The day was seriously insane. Randy left for a bachelor party at 9:00am. Finn took a three hour nap, I started cleaning, and co-op cooking, then I couldn't stop. I was like a tornado. I cleaned (really cleaned) the house for the first REAL time since school started. I did every piece of laundry in this house. I made 5 pans of baked macaroni and cheese for the co-op. In between all of this, I took care of baby Finn, who was miserable all day.

I am exhausted right now. Seriously. I am also terribly lonely. I missed my sister quite a lot today, I wished (several times) that I had someone else to call and just bitch to. No one can listen to me bitch like Ashley can.

I did get to skype with her today, which was cool. She already says her "a's" different; it was weird. She better not leave me.

I feel like this post is pretty pointless, but I am going to publish it anyways, because maybe someone else feels a little bit pointless, and since I am lonely, I want you to know that you're not alone.

G'night.

The beginning of the cloth diaper journey.

Last Friday, against strict instructions from my loving husband, Ashley and I made our way to the store "Cutie Poops and Bottoms" in Orland Park, IL. Cloth diapering is something that I have been going back and forth about for several months. I have always said I wanted to cloth diaper our next child, but Randy was so against it, I didn't want to add another thing to our plate at the moment.

After doing some MORE research on the topic, I decided that cloth diapering wasn't something that I was willing to wait on, and after sharing some of this information with Randy; he eventually hopped on board the "I am so crunchy I can barely stand it" train. (choo-choo!)

On the day we went to the store, Ashley talked to her friend on the phone, they both went on and on about how crazy I was and said things like "why would you want to cloth diaper your kid?" After we left the store Ashley said,"I am sold" and completely understood.

We got a "trial pack" which basically means that you are getting 15-20 different kinds of diapers and seeing which one/ones work best for you/your baby.

Finn is pretty awesome, so he could care less about any of this. The first day I tried them, he leaked through a bit, but other than that they worked fine. I have been slowly introducing more and more cloth diapers throughout the past week. Through all of these trials, I have decided on two that I like the most-GroVia (an All-in-one cloth diaper), and the Flip diaper (which has inserts). Both of these have worked very well on Finn, we will be switching within the next week or so. I am VERY excited, and a little bit nervous about it.

We (proudly) purchased our last box of diapers and dropped them off at daycare for Finn, I spoke with Miss Laura (the woman who watches him) and she was completely on-board with the cloth diapers (I love her).

I am so totally, completely open to suggestions for this :)

Excited to be going green, and hopefully helping my munchkin at the same time!

A little bit darker...

Yesterday we brought Ashley to the airport. Yesterday my sister left for 11 months. My baby sister. The sister that we brought home in a stocking. The sister who made mud pies. The sister who met Randy for the first time at the park by our house. The sister who cried her eyes out when I left for college, and who I repaid by crying my eyes out when she left for college. She got on a plane, and flew to Ireland.

The day was extremely beautiful, and the best part was that I got to see my entire family. We spent the day laying in the grass on my parents front lawn, watching babies play and learn. It was great.

I thought I was doing pretty well, until Ashley said goodbye to Finn. It just got so real. I watched as she said goodbye to her dogs Emma and Phia, to the cat, Kramer. I watched her say goodbye to Renee, Grant, and a sobbing Ava. I watched her say goodbye to Ryan, Sarah and Addy (well, she tried to say goodbye to Addy). All of that was painful enough. Then, I watched her say goodbye to my Ella, and to Finn, and to Randy, who whispered "call us first if you get arrested" as he hugged her goodbye. I teared up several times, but it still wasn't real.

I always knew I'd go with her to the airport, it was a given. So did everyone else. I think Randy would have liked to go too, but we both knew that I would be a raving lunatic, so we didn't want Finn to see me like that. As I said goodbye to Randy and Finn, Randy said to me--"you need to calm down until you get to the airport. Don't ruin the last moments."

I took his advice, we talked and laughed on the way to the airport. We got there, and went to the International terminal. All I kept thinking was that THIS IS REAL, this is REALLY happening.

As we waited in line to get her bags checked, the sun streamed in through all the windows. At one point, the clouds snuck in front of the sun and everything went a little bit darker. I couldn't help but think about that's how the next 11 months were going to feel--a little bit darker. Ashley isn't just my sister, she is my best friend. Life will go on, it'll just be a little bit darker without her.

We checked her bags, and walked her to the gates. I lost it, really we all lost it. I sobbed--out loud, without worrying about what other people thought about me. So did Ashley. We hugged and we said goodbye. I wanted her to turn around, but she kept going, she kept right on walking through security, she kept going until we couldn't see her anymore, but God knows we tried. All I kep thinking was "I am not going to touch my sister for 11 months" I won't be able to hug her, or push her, or "slug bug" her.

There are a lot of traits I hope that Finn gets from me; my tenacity, my smart mouth (I like a little bit of sass), my openness, and my 'I don't give a damn' attitude. There are also a lot of things that I hope that Finn gets from his Daddy; his willingness to compromise, his ability to love fully with his whole heart and the ability to fix everything and anything. But I hope he gets his bravery from his Aunt Ashley. While I wish that he would stay with me forever (much like I wish Ashley was here with me now), I hope he is able to have some adventures like his Aunt too.

"But this is MY first time."

A lot of my labor experience is very blurry to me. The pain and the lack of sleep kind of blur things together in this very strange dream-like moment. However, there is one specific moment that I remember quite clearly. Both doulas were on the left side of the bed and I was in the midst of a very painful contraction. I remember wailing something akin to "I can't do this anymore-you don't know how it feels." And both women, who had (naturally) birthed several babies replied, "We've done it before; we know what it feels like." Exasperated, I cried out, "But this is MY first time, I don't know that I can do it."

This memory surfaced this morning, when Finn woke up around 5am with a terribly runny nose. Finn had a runny nose once before, and it went away within 24 hours. He (I think) has a cold. I know that many of the people that read this blog are already mommies,and colds are easy-peasy-lemon-squeezy (as Randy would say). But, it's MY first time dealing with my baby having a real cold.

I had to drop him off at Miss Laura's this morning, and sound like a crazy person when I said, "I'm already taking Friday off, but if we need to Randy can take tomorrow off."

I know people will think "It's just a cold." But it's his first real cold, and I feel immensely guilty (because, OF COURSE, it's my fault that he's in day care and he caught a cold from those kids...rational, right?). So, be kind. And give advice...seriously.

Hope you're all having a great week :)

My husband.

I've been waiting a while to write this post ever since Randy wrote his post about failure.

My husband is one of the most caring men I have ever had the pleasure of knowing. Anyone who knows us knows that we fight like cats and dogs. I mean we fight ALL THE TIME. Crazy, name-calling, yelling matches. Anyone who REALLY knows us knows that we love each other anyways. Randy and I know exactly how to push each other's buttons. We know how to hurt each other with our words better than almost anyone I know, but we know how to use them lovingly as well. This weekend was a time where we used words in both ways. We talked about daycare/stay-at-home mommying several times. We talked about Ashley leaving. We talked about our precious angel growing up. Those are hard topics, and sometimes things get heated.

Today, on Randy's birthday, I want him to know (and all five of you readers) that he is an amazing father, and that not once in his entire life has he ever been a failure. He is successful at everything he does. Examples? Sure!

1. He bought our house for us, and transformed it from this nasty, disgusting, dirty, old gross mess into our home. The inside of our house is so cozy, so warm and so inviting, and he did that all alone, with more obstacles than I care to discuss. How many people can say that? My husband literally tore down our walls and rebuilt our house from the floors up.
2. His job, Randy has been at his job for almost 3 years, and has been promoted several times. He is such a hard worker, and I am so proud of what he has accomplished.
3. Me. Randy has always been my biggest supporter. EVer when he doesn't agree with what I am doing, he is there for me emotionally. He has always tried to do what is best for our family and for me. He is always helpful to me, always supportive, and always there for me, even at my worst.
4. Fatherhood, I realize that Finn is only 7 months old, but I can already see how Randy is such an amazing, successful father. Finn loves him so much, he lights up when he sees that his daddy is home. It is seriously so much fun to see.

He is one of the most kind, compassionate, and caring individuals I know. He wants to provide Finn and I with everything that we need, and what he doesn't know is that he does. Randy-you do. You are so amazingly wonderful with Finn. You are so very much in his life. He knows that you're his Daddy, and he ALREADY knows how much you love him. He trusts you, he snuggles you. I always knew you would be a great Daddy, but watching you with Finn (and any other children we have) will always be one of the happiest times in my entire life.

Happy birthday Randy. Finn & I love you so much.

Intervention

On Thursday, arguably the worst day of the worst week ever I got a phone call. I got a phone call from two fellow journalism advisers. Two great advisers. Two advisers that I respect. Two advisers that I think are successful. Two advisers that have children, and are working.

They told me that I cannot be Nancy (she is my mentor, she is the person I replaced at Munster, she is awesome). They told me that I cannot be her; and I don't want to be her. They said it is okay to not do what she did. They said that I could do this.

They helped me. It wasn't what they said , per se. It was that they told me that I had the control. I can tell the kids, I need to leave at a certain time. They reminded me that I am in charge. I can control the circumstances, and I can make changes.

After this, the day was long, but the week was almost over. It seemed to get better. Then, one of my friends wrote on their facebook status that they were going to stay home with their baby.

It felt like I was punched in the gut.

Now, let me clarify, I am happy for her. Seriously, I am. I would never want someone to feel bad like I do. I want people to be able to do what they want to do. But, it just hit me like a ton of bricks.

The rest of the weekend was good. But, it was tainted by those crappy feelings. I am really hoping that this week will get better.

Here's the thing--I don't think it will. Not because of work, but because my sister is leaving on Sunday. She is like REALLY leaving. She will be in Ireland and France for 9 months. I got a taste of how sad it's going to be today. She said goodbye to my niece and nephew and my sister and John. I think I cried more than her. But it's nothing like what next weekend will be.

Too much is changing. I can't deal with it. I suck.

I am so hopeful that this week WILL be better.

9 pounds

So, I have lost 9 pounds in the past 7 days. I am not complaining, I could stand to lose about 20-30 more, but I'll take 9. Now, I'm not trying to lose weight. I have just literally not had time to do any eating/drinking/sitting/sleeping. I am in perpetual motion.

Yes, it's good that I lost those 9 pounds. Agreed. But, it's not healthy I'm sure, and I am so terribly unhappy.

It's Wednesday at 11:00 am. I have been at work for 42 hours so far this week. This is my life. I don't really have much else to say about it.

Yesterday went as follors:
3:30am: wake up/feed Finn
6am: wake up/get ready/get Finn ready/feed Finn
7am: drop finn off :(
7:15am: school/pretend to be a teacher/educator/mentor/adviser/friend/coworker/professional
3:00pm: pick Finn up/bring him back to school with me
5:30pm: someone picks Finn up (Randy usually, yesterday my parents). While Finn is gone--plan lessons, edit photos, catch up on life, help students create an award winning paper.
7:45pm: get ready to leave school
8pm: leave school/pick Finn up from my parents/feed Finn
8:15pm: get home/ clean breast pump/ clean up Finn/ get ready for the next day/take a shower (Somehow--since Finn won't let anyone else deal with him after 8 pm--thankfully Ashley showed him video clips for me)
8:45pm: drive Finn around to try to get him to sleep/pick up food for the co-op
9:00-9:45pm: try for 100 years to put Finn to sleep
9:45pm: talk to Ashley, make a grocery list/clean breast pump that wasn't cleaned earlier.

See. No time for food.

FML.

This is supposed to get easier, right?

So...the first week is over. I have about 5,403 things to do. It's really ridiculous. I actually said the following words on Friday, "I forgot what it's like to be THIS busy." This happened as I was running to make copies during lunch (after I pumped, talked to students and scarfed down a salad). In actuality, I have never been this busy. I've never done both before, I have never been both a mommy and a teacher. It's hard.

I want to talk about how it's been, but not all of it. I think it's still a bit too raw to really discuss in detail. The last few days have really been the most difficult of my life. The prospect that it's not over yet, that this is the new "reality" is very difficult for me to swallow. And I can't get to the point yet where I've accepted it. Wednesday and Thursday night were terrible. Finn was in a terrible mood, and he was the crabbiest he has ever been in his entire life. It was absolute agony to watch and hear. Laura (the woman who watches him) said, "he was fine" every day, but she doesn't know him. He is not crabby, EVER, he is the happiest, most laid back baby I've ever met. It's so horrible.

He had some trouble taking two bottles a day for the first days, but he is doing well. He sleeps well there, but one day he was very crabby. I have cried every time I've dropped him off, and most of the times after I pick him up. It's not good. This weekend he's been great, back to normal. Which doesn't make me feel better, it makes me feel worse. It makes me feel like YES the reason he's been crabby is because you leave him all day long, and he doesn't like it.

So, there still hasn't been a day that I've dropped him off and not cried the whole way to school. There hasn't been a day where I picked him up and didn't feel guilty. I honestly think that Friday was the worst, he stared at me while I walked out the door. He wasn't crying, more just searching for me. As if he was saying, "Mom, where are you going again?" I lost in on the way out.

It's supposed to get easier, I know it. But all I keep thinking about is "If I had more money, I wouldn't have to do this. I wouldn't have to get upset every day. I wouldn't have to worry about it. "

Another thing that sucks is that I feel like today, for the first time, I really realized that Ashley is leaving in two weeks...for nine months. It makes me want to curl up into a ball. Just another way that I fail. I am not even able to go visit her, because of stupid money. I can't believe I won't see her for so long. It's NOT going to be good.

So...that was my week.

How was yours?

Guest Blog - Randy

I would like to begin by saying that I am not really a "blog person," so I apologize for rambling and or poor blog etiquette . So, without further explanation, here are a few of my thoughts from the last few days and today.

The last week has been especially difficult, for many reasons, but mainly that fact that Becky is going back to school. When we decided to have a baby we were both very clear that it was not an option for her at this point in time to be a stay at home mom. We both agreed that it was a goal to shoot for in the future but not realistic right now. It is not often that I feel helpless but with Becky going back to school and Finn starting daycare, that is exactly how I feel right now.

Anyone who knows Becky, is well aware that she does not hide her feelings well, and she is about as subtle as a sledge hammer she wants something. I have never been very good at not giving Becky what she wants. I sometimes try to put my foot down for a few days, at most a week, but when it comes down to it 99% of the time Becky gets what she wants. I am okay with this I truly am, it is one of the reason I love her so dearly. She is a strong and direct woman. It is for this reason though that it makes this whole back to school and daycare situation all the more difficult. I know that more than anything that Becky just wants to stay at home with our baby, and i (we) must deny (within reason) this want that has been consuming her for quite some time.

It is truly heart wrenching to watch Becky be so conflicted and in such real pain at the thought of leaving Finn in daycare. It sends a lot of thoughts through your mind, but the main one that continues to resonate in my mind is the sense of failure. Failing to provide sufficiently, failing my son, failing to make my wife happy. Failure is one of my biggest fears in life so this trio of failures is especially hard to swallow.

With all that being said, I comfort myself by qualifying these failures as a means to success. I make a decent wage, could we swing it on one income, yes, but I could only provide needs not wants. - I am a sufficient provider but I want more for my family. My son is safe at daycare, I would never put him in harms way, developmentally kids in daycare do just as well kids who stay at home with a parent. - I am not failing my son. The last is the most difficult to qualify, I fear I can't make Becky truly happy right now. - I am failing my wife.

I am very much a "fix it" person. I'm black or white. Logical. I define the issue, I research the issue, I fix it! I am lost on this one though, my only hope is that things get better. We get into the groove. Becky goes to work, I go to work, Finn thrives in daycare, we leave this conflict behind us. Many many people have been telling Becky it will get better and she will adjust, I honestly believe that to be the case. Until then though the helplessness and sense of failure will remain.

Amazing.

I am sitting in bed, not sleeping, because tomorrow is...well, tomorrow. This is THE day that I have been dreading. Tonight was yearbook pick-up, and it definitely reminded me about some reasons that I get frustrated at work, but there were also things that reminded me about why I do this.

That doesn't mean I didn't sob my heart out on the way home, or when I picked up my little angel from Daddy's arms, or when I put him to bed tonight. Because I did...all three of those times. It doesn't make tomorrow easier. I called Randy on the way home and said, "this is what things will be like so many nights...come home, put Finn to sleep, go to sleep."

Surprisingly, the only thing that has made this week easier...are your comments. Comments from all sorts of people--people who know me quite well and people who only know me in passing. Honestly, I can't tell all of you what these comments mean to me. I really and truly cannot even put into words what it felt like today to receive three long facebook messages from people who were thinking about me, thinking about how difficult tomorrow will be for me, and wondering if they could help.

It's moments like that, that make me remember how truly lucky I am. Seriously, I REALLY am.

I wanted to share some of my favorite parts, and by favorites...I mean the parts that made me cry...a lot, like ridiculous amounts. I won't publish names, because I don't know if these people want all five of you that read this blog to know who they are. But, if you are one of the amazing women who said these things to me, please know that you made my week better. You made me feel like I will be able to do this...eventually. And I cannot adequately express the gratitude for that solace.

"I could tell today that you were not in a good place. I spent the weeks before I went back to work in a very bad place. I felt horrible about myself, guilty about being the worst mom for not being able to stay home and I made [my husband] feel just as horrible too. I know you can't see how you can still be a good mom now and work because I couldn't either. But you can. Things won't be the same. You will not be the same teacher you were a year ago. Your house may never be clean, or maybe you will be better at this than me . Take my advice and don't let the guilt ruin the time you have with him. There are awesome working moms and awesome stay at home moms. There is always guilt associated with being a mom. It just comes with the job. It is about trying to find that balance and trust me I'm still working on this. I think back to went my kids were little and I can truly say I enjoyed every moment with them. I did not miss them growing up because I worked it only made me appreciate even more the time I had with them. I know stay at home moms that can't say this."

This one touches on something that I have become quite familiar with as a mom--guilt. I will talk more about this in a later post because I am reading a book right now called Bad Mother and I want to talk more about the subject. It's one of those things--like breastfeeding--that they never talk about. Well, let me tell you all--Mom guilt is ROUGH, and I've yet to meet a mom who is not filled with it.

"Regardless, my point in all of this, well... maybe... is that in reading about how much you love your gorgeous baby and how AMAZING of a mother you have become in just 7 short months, you have a LIFETIME of amazing to come. You will ABSOLUTELY be able to do this, Becky and even though we are essentially strangers I can FEEL how amazing of a Mom you ARE and will continue to be simply through the passion in your writing. I know this doesn't really help because I don't have any little ones, or advice to offer, or helpful hints. All I can offer is random stranger support and tell you to put faith in yourself and in the unbreakable bond there is between a mother and her son, regardless of what you have to do to support your family right now. YOU CAN DO THIS. "

Those last words (and the part about my gorgeous baby...because he is, right?) honestly made me feel so much better. Someone just saying it/writing it--there's something so powerful about that. Maybe because I'm an English/journalism teacher, but I feel it. I feel the power behind those words, and I feel the strength of someone who would take time out of their life to write to me and say those things--it strengthened me. Honestly.

[After giving me several good things to think about] "I hope this gives you enough silver lining to focus on, or at least chuckle about. I PROMISE, you will live to tell your tale, and even love your tale. Just like natural childbirth, it will be challenging at first, but you will have not only a beautiful outcome in the end, but a great sense of accomplishment. I know you, and you are not buying anything I am saying right now. However, so much of this whole motherhood thing is about trust. Trust those who have walked before you, and believe that it is all going to be OK."

This is so beautiful to me, and spoken like such a wise and thoughtful woman. Trusting in each other, as mothers to guide us, and help us. Sometimes I feel like so many mothers spend their time damning each other, and judging each other, and saying "I wouldn't do that. I wouldn't do this." It's so refreshingly wonderful to hear another mother cheer me on, and say that my journey will be a good one, and just because I will be at work for part of it, doesn't (necessarily) make me a horrible mother.

I know that this post is long, and I appreciate those of you who are still hanging out with me by this point. I wanted you all to know that your words matter. They make things better. These three women who wrote to me and said these amazingly beautiful things to me--you don't know what it meant to me, and all I can say is thank you.

So...thank you so much.

And I know I am super gushy, emotional tonight, so I apologize to any of you who may have thrown up while reading the mushiness. I can't help it, it's who I am. I figure if you read about Finn, you already know this :)

I have got my fingers crossed for a good day tomorrow. I know it will be terribly hard.

Gifts

This week, I've received two amazing gifts. The first was seeing Finn crawl, I mean really crawl for the first time. It was pretty awesome, mostly because he is pretty awesome. Sometimes I can't believe that I am able to be there for these first moments. His first smile, his first laugh, his first time army crawling, crawling and STANDING (yes, that was the second moment--he pulled himself up), it is an amazing honor to be apart of those moments in his life.

He might not remember them, but I will remember them for the rest of my life. I will remember when he's 14, and driving me crazy, how he used to laugh when I tickled his belly. I will remember how he would smile and turn away when I looked at him. I will remember when he would reach to me while he was eating, or crying or anything.

I feel like Finn gave me these two gifts because he knows how sad I am. How I absolutely cannot believe that it's over. How these past 7 months were the best of my life, and now I feel like they are ending.

I can't believe it's over. I can't believe that I am heading to school in 2 hours for the rest of the night, and then dropping Finn off at daycare in the morning. It is breaking my heart. Literally, my heart hurts when I think about it.

I hope I make it. I hope it's easier (like everyone says it will be) than I think, I hope it's not as bad as I think. I hope Finn still knows me, loves me, and wants to be with me.

If he doesn't. I hope he knows that he is my greatest accomplishment. He is everything I never knew I always wanted. He is perfect. I hope when he looks back at his childhood he remembers me, and his daddy, and love. I hope he doesn't remember daycare (at least not only daycare).

I am really working on trying to understand what I can do to help the situation. I'm working on trying to make things better.

Losing it.

Slowly, but surely. I am losing it. It feels like I am losing everything, and I am grasping at straws.

If anyone has any suggestions. PLEASE tell me, immediately.

More breakdowns...and more fun.

I had to bring Finn to his daycare this past Wednesday. It was one of the top 5 worst moments of my life. I know there are some of you out there that don't believe this, but I've thought about it a lot.

(Maybe I've had a cushy life...but my top 5 worst moments were in college when I got yelled at by my roommates in a super-girly bully-ish kind of way, when one of my best friends kicked me out of her party, when my grandma died, when Finn was under observation for the first 24 hours, when he choked and when I dropped him off at daycare. I told you I thought about it a lot.)

I cried the night before, I hardly slept at all because I was so nervous about it. I woke up way early, got ready, got him ready and sat and waited until 7:15 hit. It was absolutely torturous. I brought him there, cried the entire way in the car. Dropped him off and completely lost it IN FRONT of the little kids there AND Laura, and then hard-core lost it for the next 35 minutes in the car.

I just can't bring myself to understand why out of all the mommies out there, I have to go back to work. And this is where I cross into irrationality...I swear that if I was in some way better. A better photographer, didn't have student loans, smarter, prettier, thinner...I would be able to figure out a way. Maybe if I was a better wife, more laid back, less bitchy...then I would be able to stay home.

I know so many women who don't really want to stay home, who love work, and that is FANTASTIC. I honestly wish I was one of those, but all I can think about is that I'll miss it all. I'll miss his fabulous childhood. I won't be there for his first art project, his first time crawling (really crawling), his first words, etc. I will be at work. That is unforgiveable to me. If I miss those things, I KNOW that 10 years down the road I will regret it like I've never regretted anything in my life.

How am I going to do this.

Okay. I could go on and on about this forever, but I promised you some fun, and here it is.

Finn got his first haircut yesterday. This is him before.
During...
And after...

What a handsome man I have. He is so fabulous.

What am I going to do without him all day?

The First (of many) nervous breakdown.

So yesterday it officially happened. I lost it. Seriously.

I started crying, and sweating, and my heart started beating very hard, and at one point I had to run to the bathroom because I thought I was going to throw-up, I even heaved a bit.

I broke down about school. I broke down about leaving my sweet baby angel. I couldn't contain the sadness anymore.

I put him to sleep, and stared at his gorgeous face, and I couldn't handle it anymore. I started working on some school work, and I started really thinking. Thinking about what I was leaving behind, and something inside me broke apart.

Now, I am not someone who hates my job. Actually, I truly love my job. I teach students, but not just "regular" students--students who work hard, who love my classes, and who actually WANT to be there. It's awesome, and I honestly love my students, I love my job most times. BUT, I have a new job now, one that is so much more important to me.

It is so incredibly hard to think about, but it's coming. It's coming faster than I think it is, and it is so hard.

Randy was wonderful, legitimately wonderful. He told me he is scared too. He told me it'll be okay. He told me I'm a good mother. And most importantly, he told me that if it's too hard I can stop. He said "if we can't do it, if it's too much--you will stop and we will make it work."

I don't know if he will ever know what that means to me. To have someone support me that much that they say if you're miserable, if you're broken--we will find a way to make it work. That is amazing to me.

Sometimes even in the saddest times, I see the beautiful things in my life. My husband is awesome.

August.

So...it's August. Yep.

Not a fan. Only 2.5 weeks left of happiness, and that happiness will be clouded with school work.

I am trying to be positive, but it's not working. At all.

I am scared of what this will be like, I am scared of what I will miss. I am just scared.

I hope things get better.

I am clearly incapable of complete thoughts today. It sucks.

Breastfeeding

Today I was at the doctor's office, and I read a statistic in a magazine (I was reading O Magazine--you know how much I love my Oprah, and there was an article about breast milk donation). It said that when American women leave the hospital 74% are breastfeeding, by the time their baby is 6 months old only 12% of women are still breastfeeding.

This made me a little bit sad, because I remember how many hard times I had while breastfeeding. It was rough. I know a lot of people who had a hard time. I remember how much I wanted to quit several times.

It also makes me so proud. It's one of those times where I feel like I'm doing a good job. So...this is officially Finn's 24 weeks birthday, and I am proud. Proud of him (who started to army crawl this week), but proud of myself too. Go me.

Homemade Baby food

Okay, so I am definitely still feeling very "poor me." Still thinking about playing the lottery, and various other endeavors to make money. BUT, while I'm doing that, I've been loving on the most precious baby-angel I could ever hope for, and being thankful for each and every moment of it, and being incredibly thankful for the people around me that have made it possible for me to stay home for 7 months.

This particular angel, just spent the last 45 minutes fighting sleep and doing acrobatics in my bed (yes, my bed...I know, I know, why doesn't my child sleep in his own crib yet? because I like him close to me, and I don't have the heart to move him yet...happy?). He has recently started moving around like a crazy man all day and night...rolling all over, scooting, and just being adorable in a variety of ways. He's also STARTED SOLID FOODS (tear, sniffle, sniffle).

Look at this angel.

ANYWAYS...while I've been loving this angel, and hanging out with him all day and night (no complaints here!), I've been doing more research (I'm a freak, I know), and I decided that we were going to make our own baby food. Some people may think I'm a granola-eating, liberal, peace-loving, hippie freak (p.s. they are right), but I think that it's the best thing for my baby. And that is all I care about.

So, for the 4 of you that read this blog (and one of you that actually comments--I love you Leah!), I will document this process.

Two days ago, we decided to make sweet potatoes.
Step 1: Bake the sweet potatoes (after scrubbing, skinning, and cutting into chunks) in the oven in a foil-lined pan for 20 minutes

Pictured is squash (these actually burned, so we didn't end up making squash, but the picture is better)

Step 2: Grind up sweet potatoes
We had spent about $15 on a food grinder, thinking "It can't be that hard to work this." It was. A food grinder is a bad idea...it is $15, yes that seems like a bargain, but it will take you too long and you will quit, and then spend hundreds of dollars on baby food. Do not buy one.

Notice that the hand is Randy's hand...because that grinder SUCKS!

Step 3: Blend, blend, blend with water, formula, or (my personal favorite) breastmilk!
We persevered (by we, I mean Randy. I worked that grinder for approximately 10 seconds before completely and totally giving up f#$@ that grinder), and ground up 2 complete sweet potatoes. Then, we moved to the blender, added breast milk and water to the potatoes, and kept blending...and blending...and blending. Blend it to the texture that your baby can eat (runny/watery).

Step 4: Move into containers
- We bought containers from Babies-R-Us and we also bought an ice-cube tray for 4.99, the ice cube tray makes 21 1 ounce servings. Speaking from experience--go with the ice cube tray. The containers are nice, and they are cute, but you end up filling them only partially, and the same thing can be accomplished with the ice cube trays. If you want the cute ones, buy them, but they are unnecessary.
- Freeze (in a bag) and then remove and freeze separately. Food is good for approximately 3 months.
So, this was day #1. It took forever, it was super-annoying.

Day #2 Finn and I bought a Baby Bullet. GET ONE IMMEDIATELY.
Step 1: Peel avocados

Step 2: Put in bullet, add water/breastmilk

Step 3: Blend for 10 seconds...make sure you get the right consistency. You will know what your baby can handle.

Step 4: Freeze...soon your freezer will look like this

Step 5: Serve to angel-baby. He may look like this at first...because he thinks you are weird, and avocados are weird, and food in general is just weird.
But soon...he'll look like this (note the avocado on his face, bib and hair). Happy, full and healthy. :)




It took legitimately moments to make about 10 servings for Finn. It was awesome, and easy. I spend $12 on organic fruits/veggies, $50 on the Baby Bullet, $15 on the grinder, $10-15 on supplies. I came out with about 2-3 weeks frozen, totally organic, totally preservative/filler-free baby food.

Totally worth it.

Love this boy.