Sunshine, Rainbows, and Butterflies…

You all know how sickingly happy I have been lately.  I know my blogs have been all sunshine-y and smiley and probably really annoying.  Well, here’s one for those of you who are tired of all my cute & happy baby talk.

I (shockingly) have no desire to complain about my life right now, but Holy Hell, I AM TIRED.  I am apprehensive to even discuss this because I do not want it to be misconstrued in any way that I am complaining about my son or even my situation.  I am just so stinkin’ tired.  To be honest, if this is my only “complaint” then I will take it.  Plenty of my mom blogger friends have been open with their battles with post-partum depression and I consider myself so lucky to just be talking about being tired. 

Carson is a super baby.  I am not kidding.  I feel I can objectively tell you he is a wonderfully easy baby.  I am just trying to figure out how to work through our nights.  We are currently getting up around two times a night.  Carson goes to bed around 6:30 and usually wakes up between 11-12 and 2-3.  With our new morning routine, he also seems to be waking up around 5ish, but will tend to go back to bed until 6 or later after being fed.  I really wouldn’t have even complained about our night schedule prior to going back to work.  But this work thing has changed everything. 

It has really amazed me what your body can get used to.  I mean, before Carson I could tell you that without an alarm clock, my body liked 10 hours of sleep.  TEN HOURS!  Now?  Ha!  I couldn’t even tell you how much sleep I am getting, but I can tell you how much sleep I am NOT getting!!  (and again…to be clear, I would stay up all night with Little Man if I had to…but…)

So, when does this sleep through the night thing happen?  I know this is a hot topic, to cry it out, not cry it out, blah de blah de blah…I don’t know the answer.  I just want to sleep for one whole night.  The last time that happened?  October 21st.  That was a long-ass time ago.  I am not sure if I want to open myself up to suggestions or not…but have it, folks.   

And I promise to be back to sunshine, rainbows, and butterflies before you know it…if you can get me one night of uninterrupted bliss sleep.

I Just Want To Be a Mom

I think I want to retire from my previous profession and become a full-time mom.  I didn’t think I would be that person.  But here I am, about 6 weeks away from returning to work, and I am hanging on to every precious second.  I think being a mom is the most important job there is.  I think it sucks that finances dictate that I quit that job to return to one that isn’t nearly as rewarding, fulfilling or satisfying. 

I am taking 4 months of maternity leave.  To do this, I paid into short-term disability, I saved every second of vacation time from 2009, I used every minute of sick time I was allowed to accrue since I started my job in 2005, and I took a bunch of time unpaid (all of which, coincidentally, leaves me with nothing when I go back).  Our lovely government does not share my opinion that mothering is the most important job and did not help me out at all, except to say that my job will hold my job while I’m busy doing this other thing with my son. 

So here I am, every day enjoying watching my son grow and change.  And here I am, realizing this time is waning.  And here I am, making myself sick about it.  I am insanely jealous of stay-at-home moms.  Heck, I am insanely jealous of the woman I am going to pay to take care of my son.  I don’t know how I am going to do it.  Everyone says it will get easier…and I am sure the routine of it will.  I am not sure that missing him will.  I am choosing to work four 10-hour days to have extra full day with him.  That means there are 2 days a week where I very likely will not see him from 8:15 a.m. when I drop him off until wake-up the next morning.  I will rarely, if ever, be the one who gets to see his smiling face when we pick him up from daycare. 

This is just the start of my long road of Mommy guilt…but the start is a doozie!

Who would want to leave this little man?

Major Life Events: A Time to Shine…or not.

Disclaimer:  This blog is going to be what I refer to as a prego rant.  I am by no means saying I am not happy.  Quite to the contrary, I am pretty sure I am the happiest I have ever been in my 31 years.  But I have something I need to get off my chest.

I have been so lucky to experience two Major Life Events in the past year–marriage and pregnancy.  Both are wonderful, so wonderful.  Both have led me to my current place in life, which has this undercurrent of happiness that I have never had before.  I love it.

The problem with Major Life Events are that they are the time for those around you to step up and shine, or to gradually fall off your radar leaving you wondering what happened.  The problem with having two Major Life Events within a year is that those that fall really, really fall.  They don’t have much time to climb back up again before the next event requires them to try to shine again.  They are already in the trenches from the first event and it doesn’t seem like the second kicks them up into high gear either.

Major Life Events allow you to put a lot of things in perspective, especially about your friends and family.  Major Life Events allow you, by their nature, to weed out the riff-raff.  You may not have known it before, but the riff-raff may have just been a big energy suck on you.  When you are in the throes of a Major Life Event, you don’t have that extra energy anymore and it just so happens that when you don’t put the energy in, some people just disappear.  Turns out they weren’t really trying that hard before.

I know I am a stubborn person.  But I feel very strongly that when I am going through a Major Life Events, it is not up to me to call all the allegedly important people in my life and tell them how I am doing.  There are too many people and not enough time.  Especially with pregnancy.  I work 40 hours a week on my feet all day, I have a student (which is great, but does take more energy and time), I have doctor’s appointments up the wazoo, AND I AM GROWING A BABY.  I don’t have time to call everybody and tell them what is new this week, how the ultrasound went and so on.  I would think if I am important enough to someone, I am on their radar and they can call to see how I am doing.  That doesn’t mean I never call.  It does mean if I am 20 weeks pregnant and haven’t talked to you once, I am not going to call you now.  This is not a double standard.  I am exactly the same with the people who are important to me.  If you are going through a major life event, I will call you to see how you are doing, to see if you need any help.  If you don’t answer, or don’t return the call, I’m gonna call you back.  See, Major Life Events take up a lot of time and I know that.  Sometimes its hard to call back.  Sometimes you are so busy you forget to call back.  Don’t worry!  I will call you back maybe to the point of stalking, but I want you to know that I care.  That is important to me.

The interesting thing about society now is that you can know what is going on with all your friends and family through various social networking sites.  This could essentially eliminate the phone call (although nothing can replace a good phone call).  But I venture to say that you can show that you care and are thinking about someone by a simple post.  I fact, I get MORE support and care from people I wouldn’t get anything from if it weren’t for Facebook.  It always make me smile.  The flip side of this is that if you are on these sites and still can’t manage a “How are you?” or “How are you feeling?”, you look even worse.  I would say posting a “How are you feeling?” is about as effortless as it gets.  If you aren’t doing even that, it’s pretty evident there is ZERO effort. 

Back to the disclaimer for a minute:  I AM HAPPY.  I have everything I have ever wanted right now, and have never experienced this before–it is wonderful.  I am just disappointed with the people that aren’t shining.  In my opinion, there is nothing worse than disappointment.  I would rather have someone be angry, upset and not speaking to me than disappointed.  Anger dissolves and gets less with time.  I find disappointment hangs there and probably gets worse with time.  Every passing day finds you MORE disappointed that another day has gone by with the same results.With all the shining people that I have, it is amazing how a few of the riff-raff can be such a bummer.  But when they are important riff-raff it’s hard to forget you haven’t talked in 13 weeks.  And it is hard to keep the disappointment from mounting every passing day.

For all you shiny people out there–I thank you.  When I see you on my FB page or on my phone, I am excited.  I have a lot to share, so I may forget to ask about you right away, but I will get there eventually!  Please keep on shining, because the shining makes my day!

Things you shouldn’t say to a pregnant woman: A review

I’ve read these lists in various books and internet sites about the things you shouldn’t say to pregnant women and I laugh, thinking to myself, “People don’t really say these things!  Ha ha!  Hee Hee!”.  Well, news flash–people DO say these things.  I offer this blog as a lesson of sorts.  Please don’t ever say these things to a pregnant woman.

1.  DO NOT COMMENT ON HER WEIGHT!!  This one seems obvious, but apparently it is not.  Here are some examples of how this conversation could go down.  Purely rhetorical, of course!

Uninformed person (UP): “How’s married life?”
Prego: “Good!  I’m pregnant!”
UP: “Well, that is kinda why I asked about your married life.  I know when my marriage was falling apart I got fat!”

The tricky thing about people indirectly (directly) calling a prego fat is that she usually won’t see it coming.  The logical response to this conversation would be “Congratulations!” but instead you get a fat comment.  One of two feelings will rise to the surface for the prego–rage or overwhelming desire to break into tears.  Neither one of which you want to be around for.  TRUST.

Let’s look at another example:

UP: Why can’t you take any medication for your allergies?
Prego: “Because I am pregnant!”
UP: “I thought you were looking a little pudgy.”

ARE YOU FREAKING KIDDING ME??

Again, these are rhetorical situations.  Any semblance to a conversation you have had with a prego are purely coincidence.

2.  DO NOT ASK “WERE YOU TRYING??”  Since when is it OK for relative strangers to talk about their sex lives?  It’s not like I go around to non-prego’s and ask “Did you use protection last night?”  Here’s the thing–I’m married and I’m pregnant–YOU DO THE MATH!!  And what is the right answer to this question?  Does anyone know?  I am thinking of screwing with people.  Some answers I have come up with:
–“Trying for what?”
–“I was trying, but my husband wasn’t.  In fact, I should probably tell him.”
–“I’m actually a virgin.  I’m heading to the Vatican tomorrow.”

There are other things that tend to get a little tedious 20 times a day.  This is not to say that you can’t ask these things, just know that the prego may be (REALLY) sick of these questions.  I will give you my answers here to save you from having to ask me later.  If you can, try to come up with some more creative things to talk about.
–“Do you know what you are having?”  I am only 15 weeks here, people.  If we do find out, it won’t be until June, but we haven’t decided yet.
—“Do you know what you want?”  I want a baby.  Need I say more?
—“Do you have any names picked out?”  Nope.  And depending how close you are to me, there’s a good chance I won’t share them with you when we do.
—“Are you excited?”  Ummm…really? 

Ok.  I hope this little review session helped with any questions you may have.

Pinwheels and Book Deals

I think this is a tangent of Chimp Attack! and my distaste for the naming of news stories.  I apparently also have a strong distaste for the fact that anybody can get a book deal these days for doing pretty much anything (or nothing)!

So, Sully Sullenberg has been offered a bunch of book deals.  I understand that he saved a bunch of lives and did a wonderful thing, but what more of “The Miracle on the Hudson” do we not know?  I mean, the man DID HIS JOB.  That is what it comes down to.  He was trained for this type of incident, and when it happened, HE DID WHAT HE WAS SUPPOSED TO DO.  I guess the more amazing part was that IT WORKED.  But still, a book deal?  Really?  I do my job everyday…and I don’t get a book deal.  Maybe that is what this stems from, maybe I am jealous.  Maybe I want a book deal for rehabbing a particularly difficult post-op shoulder.  I mean, that is some riveting stuff!  

Next, there is Rod Blagojevich.  This one is easier to get fired up about.  He is getting a six-figure deal to tell his story.  Seriously?  Are there no rules in the publishing world?  I mean, this guy didn’t even do his job.  He was so far from doing his job…  He probably would be hard pressed to get another job again…but don’t worry, he can live off his book deal!  WTF?  I can equate this to me dislocating a hip replacement and getting lauded for my screw-up, then getting a book deal.  I don’t understand.  

I think I am also insulted as a reader that publishers think I want to read this crap.  What else is there to tell?  These flippin’ stories have been on the news so much, I could have learned about the stories by pure osmosis.  The problem is, some losers out there WILL read this nonsense.  If you are one of them, I’m sorry, but you are STUPID (maybe you do lat-pull downs behind your head, too!).  Think about this–you buying Blagojevich’s book will fund a corrupt man.  I hope you sleep well at night with that.

This probably all stems from jealousy.  My husband says I read enough books, why couldn’t I just write one.  I say, maybe if I just continue living my life someone will approach me.  It seems the chances are better that way!

Chimp Attack!

So, I have been thinking how much I hate that every major news story gets a “name” now.  Has it always been like that and I haven’t noticed before now?  Because it seems like this a relatively new trend (maybe within the last 10 years).  Obviously, this stems from the “Chimp Attack!”, but I am also thinking of “The Miracle on the Hudson” and “Octo-mom” (Thanks Shayla!!).  I mean, the news is going to happen, why can’t it just be reported?  Why does there need to be a name?

Not only does news have a name, but there tends to be a dramatic picture associated with it.  I tried to find the picture NBC 30 used with “Chimp Attack!” sprawled across it in red letters.  I couldn’t.  What I did find is a very similar picture, although I think the one on TV had bigger fangs.  You will have to imagine the red letters, please.

 

Chimp Attack!

Now, you may think this is a blog about how I hate that news stories have names, but it is not.  I actually want to talk more about this chimp.

Let me preface this all by saying that, as weird as this story is, I do feel bad for the woman who had to stab her pet, who was mauling her best friend and now her pet is dead and her best friend is in critical condition and the woman has no other family.  That is sad.

But, back to the chimp.  Here are my thoughts:

• Maybe the chimp shouldn’t be on Xanax.  Where, in the history of evolution, were chimps ever on Xanax?
• Where else but the US, where obesity is an epidemic, would there be an obese chimp?  Travis the Attack Chimp weighed in at 200 pounds.  According to my research, the average male chimp (not of the attack variety) weighs 40-60 kg.  According to my further research, that equates to 88-132.2 pounds.  That means Travis had 70 extra pounds on him.  Maybe he was having body-image issues.  It can upset us all.  Turns out the attack chimp ate filet mignon, lobster…again, in the history of evolution, when did chimps eat lobster?
• Travis the Attack Chimp could drive a car.  And would occasionally get behind the wheel.  I may have been behind him once or twice.
• If an chimpanzee can drive, and be in Old Navy commercials, and make himself dinner, and draw, why does he have to wear a diaper?  You mean to tell me you can train cats to use a toilet, but you can’t train chimps?  I don’t believe it.
• Apparently there are other Attack Chimps out there.  After The Today Show ran the story today, they interviewed another victim of a chimp attack from 2005.  Apparently when chimps attack (could we make a show of it?), they go for the face.  Huh.  May have been useful information before.

Anyways, I guess that is all I have to say about that.  Anybody else have any thoughts on the “Chimp Attack!”?

The Hell That is the Baby Shower

So, I’m off to a baby shower today.  And I would like to state for the record that I love my friend and this is no reflection of her (I know you are reading this!!).  This is a reflection of the baby shower as a whole.  

I hate showers.  

Not the water kind, the kind with women everywhere and gifts and queer party games, be they of the bridal or baby variety.  I don’t abhor all bridal showers because they can be a little more flexible–if you go the Jack & Jill route (as I did), I’m there and I am happy.  It doesn’t seem that the same flexibility applies to the baby shower.

I understand that the baby shower is mandatory–how else do you get the car seats and strollers and onesies and binkies and everything else you need to bring a new life into the world?  I get it.  What I don’t get is how the need for the COUPLE to get the things they need to sustain a life has morphed into a women only event (please see #24 in About Me).

Here are my issues:

I have a hard time being surrounded by so much estrogen.

I have a hard time getting excited about onesies.  

I have a hard time understanding why every gift has to be opened.  I am totally cool with you opening your gift later.  I will call you and see if you liked it.  I don’t need to watch you do it.  Well, actually, I would like to watch you open MY gift, but if that means watching you open the other 40 gifts you got, then I will be OK with the phone call.

I have a hard time “ooh-ing” and “ahh-ing” over every gift.  

I have a hard time understanding why you have to dress up.  

I have a hard time pretending that I am enjoying myself.

For the men out there–I am so envious that you have somehow been omitted from this rite-of-passage.  You are lucky.  For those of you out there that CHOOSE to go to your wife’s shower–you are stupid.  

Now, on to the shower today.

Thank you, friend, for saying “NO” to stupid games.  I cannot tell you how much I appreciate it.  

Thank you, friend, for wearing jeans to your own shower, which allows me to do the same. 

Thank you, friend, for trying to make it as bearable as possible, because I know you hate showers too!

When and if I have a Baby Shower, I am going to buck convention and go co-ed.  I know my guy friends will be excited to celebrate my pregnancy.  The wives will still buy the gifts, but I will not open them until later.  There will be beer, possibly a keg.  People will probably get drunk.  The end result though, will be the same.  I will have the things I need to sustain a life.  What will be different is I won’t want to pull my hair out at the end.  That will come with the baby!

SnOw DaYs…

I never signed up for “A Complaint Free World”.  Which is good, because now I am freed up to complain about snow days.  I don’t think I would have much to complain about if I didn’t shoot myself in the foot and marry a teacher.

So here we are at home…me keeping my fingers crossed that patients will cancel (I’m not supposed to admit that) and him…doing…a whole lot of nothing.  I’m jealous.  And I shouldn’t really say he does nothing.  Because he does stuff–work stuff, house stuff…but the important factor is he is doing this stuff AT HOME.  While I am AT WORK.  

Granted, by noon, when I have to be at work, it is supposed to be raining.  So, realistically there is no reason why people should cancel.  But when other people aren’t working, it is like a disease and I feel like I should not be working either.

I feel that snow days, much like summer vacations, is a tradition that should be carried over into adulthood.  All in favor?