It's NOT that serious.

People are so quick to take offense. Moms especially. (That is the particular subject of this blog.)

Any little thing is a reason to spring into hysterical mommy mania. Not every mother is like this at all. But there are some I refer to as... well, fanatics.

I love to breastfeed my son. I think it's the greatest thing in the world. And despite all the cracking, bleeding, infections, and pumping, I stubbornly persevere because I think it is one of the best things I will ever do for my child. But do I strongly believe that others should feel the way I do? No.

Boob-happy moms are oblivious to one simple fact. You hate people who force formula and bad-mouth bewb juice. Let me ask you something. WHAT MAKES YOU ANY BETTER????

The moms who get MOST offended and QUICKLY offended are more often than not the moms who bash formula just as badly. Can we just live and let live? You are bringing NO ONE to your cause that way. Can we accept the fact that we are blessed with free will and trust that loving mothers know what is best for their child? I'll admit, sometimes I doubt some mothers and their level of love and committment, but I have presence of mind to keep it to myself - IF the baby is suffering no harm.

Also, PLEASE stop intimidating women. Breastfeeding moms are held to such a high standard. POP A NIPPLE OUT IN PUBLIC! IT'S YOUR RIGHT! HEAVEN FORBID ANYONE INSULT YOU BY ASKING TO FEED THE BABY WITH A BOTTLE!! NEVER DRINK ALCOHOL - EVARRR!!! PACIFIERS ARE THE *DEVIL*!!!

You catch my drift? Loosen up. I'll NEVER feed my child in public without sufficient cover. Uncomfortable people make me uncomfortable. And I highly doubt I'll be nursing my child at two. There is NOTHING wrong with either. Some moms feel like they're expected to reach for this ridiculously high standard and so don't even bother to try! And I think that's very sad. Accept the fact that the world is not comfortable with breastfeeding. The media shoves boobs in everybody's face as a sex object. THAT IS WHAT WE ARE BRED TO BELIEVE. How can you tell people they are wrong for what they've been told their whole life?

Moms are meant to be compassionate and understanding. Not judgmental and overbearing. Can we all calm down?? Just a tad? Please??

Sigh. Time to get back to work. I shall vent more later.

Back to Work, You!!

Woahhh there! High time for another post! It's been a month, you say? Impossible!!!

Well. A lot's happened in a month. I'm back to work (hoo-flippity-hah) and am actually writing whilst pumping in The Pump Room. This is the little hole where they send all the horrible and disgusting little mothers who choose to nourish their children in the best way possible.

Okay, that was sarcasm. My bosses are fine with the pumping thing. It was never really a problem. But of course there are people in this world that would have you feel horrible for trying to do the right thing. As if that's something that I'm not already used to. I've been picked on and mocked my entire life for being one of Jehovah's Witnesses. Even when I quit attending meetings and threw myself at the world, I was always the weird kid in the crowd.

Man I subject hop like a [insert funny similie here]. I'm so brain dead I've lost my funny. Yet another side effect of new motherhood.

But I try to take it one day at a time. He's two months old now and a little handful. I'm sure I'll look back at this one day and laugh. But really I'm overwhelmed sometimes. There's a lot to do to keep the house going, but it's hard to do when there's this angry little person demanding constantly to be held and nursed and loved. Not that I resent him. Never that. But sure enough there are plenty of days that I just don't even like him. Oh yes, I'm a terrible mother. Stuff a sock in it.

That's partially why I'm so glad to be back at work. Let someone else handle the little people while I find a distraction, something useful to do. I like my job and finding extra things because I like to feel as if I'm helping to keep things running smoothly. (The sort of fulfillment I just can't EVER seem to find at home.)

So here I sit. Pumping. (Moooooo!!! Yes I feel like a dairy cow.) Thank heaven for technology cuz what else on earth would I do for the 20 minutes I spend in my little hole each time I feel near explosion?

Le sigh.

I'm going to work on that funny thing. Next post. Promise.

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Today I feel blah.

Today I feel blah.

I feel listless and hollow like I'm going through all the motions.

Such is the beauty of postpartum depression.

Most of the time I do a fairly decent job of ignoring it. I stay busy. I sleep. I take care of the kids. I watch tv. I read a book. I play on Facebook. I play with my daughter.

Today, it's not working. So I feel listless and hollow.

It's a weird, bothersome feeling. It makes me feel like I should go lay down... but I can't. Two kids have a lot of needs, needs that come before my own. I'm not bitter about that. It's sometimes nice having two people that depend on me. It keeps me going and gives me purpose.

Still. There are days like today when those two little people needing me doesn't feel like enough to keep me sane. I feel loose and liquid like I could slip through my own fingers. For a control freak like myself, that's a very unsettling feeling. I need, have, to be in control at all times. Don't ask me why because I'm not even sure myself, and today I don't have the energy to psychoanalyze myself to death as I usually would.

Depression feels like a weakness. It's a weakness I've battled for as long as I can remember. Literally. There's been times that it's gotten so bad, I've felt as if I were at the bottom of a dark, deep pit with no visible way out. That's a terrible feeling. Over the years, I've become particularly adept at ignoring things that bother me. I bottle, bundle, shove it under the bed, and pretend it doesn't exist. Maybe that's not healthy, but it gets me by from day to day, which is sometimes just enough. I despise depression. I hate admitting to it. I don't want people to look at me and think, She's not in control. Because the truth is - when you're depressed, you're not in control.

That said, I don't look at others who are depressed as if they are weak. Yes, I know. A double standard. We are our own worst critics.

So today I feel blah. I feel a little better writing about it, though. It's good to have an outlet, even if you're talking to a bunch of people online that you don't even know at all.

And now I'm signing off because the toddler is up and around and wanting to touch my laptop screen and asking a bazillion questions and generally just being... a toddler.

Ahhh, the joys of mommyhood.

Labor, aka My Near-Death Experience

I went in to be induced Tuesday, June 28, 2011. The midwife told me not to expect to have my baby for sure that day because inductions often take quite some time.

I was 2 cm, 60% before Pitocin at 9.30 am. However, Pitocin didn't really serve to stimulate good contractions. (They were just like the contractions I'd be having for FIVE weeks.) At 11.30, the midwife came in to check me. I was 3 cm, 70% so she broke my water.

Contractions started IMMEDIATELY. And boyyy were they intense.

I'd already decided against an epidural so they brought me a birthing ball. After an hour or so of deep breathing through contractions while hubby rubbed my back, I had finally had enough. I asked for Nubain. They told me I had to get off the birthing ball because it would cause fatigue.

Into the bed I went! My contractions were coming HARD and FAST. My mom, hubby, and sister all hovered around my bedside, and whoever happened to be closest was the one who got caught in my deadly vice grip as I continued to breathe through contractions. The Nubain (and Phenergan they gave me for nausea) made me all kinds of loopy - as in I was having trouble finishing sentences because I'd lose my train of thought as soon as I opened my mouth. And it didn't even help with the pain. =/

At about 3 pm (three and a half hours of hard labor), I practically begged for the epidural. I was in tears because all I could think was that I was going to have to do this for HOURS! The midwife came in and checked me and said, "Oh, no, you're eight centimeters. He'll probably be here at around four. I really don't think you'll push for more than 15 minutes. You're doing great; you don't need the epidural."

I wasn't hearin' NONE of it. I wanted the epidural!!!

I didn't get the epidural.

She told me to start bearing down during contractions, but not pushing. I can't describe the pain I felt. It was beyond what I'd expected. Breathing deep and focusing on the END of the contraction was the only thing that got me through.

At about 3.30, they set me up to start pushing. The midwife told me, "Know how I told you 15 minutes? I don't even think it'll be that long. He's ready to come out."

They told me to hold my breath and push as hard as I could but to try not to yell or scream. Which in itself is a funny thought when a woman is pushing a watermelon out of her vajayjay. But I digress.

I only shouted once. I was a very good girl and did as I was told. And then, after about two good, hard pushes, they told me to stop pushing! Stop pushing?!?! Had she really lost her mind now?!!!!

Too late, he was ready to come, and out he came, all glorious, slimy 8 lbs. 7 oz. and 21 inches of him.

You know, watching labor stories, I always feel like the mom is crying because it's such a beautiful moment, and she's so happy to meet this little person.

Yeahhhhh I was definitely crying because it HURT and I was EXHAUSTED!!!

:D But all in all, it was totally worth it.

Ladies and gentleman, I'd like you to meet Mr. Christopher James, my new heartthrob.

36 weeks and counting down...

Today, I am 36 weeks pregnant.

*shudder*

I can't believe how quickly time has flown by. Even as I type, I should be working on the baby room, but any distraction is a welcome distraction right now. My belly hurts, my ribs hurt, and of course my back hurts. He's running out of room in there and therefore taking it out on me. Hah.

It really hit me the other day that we're about to have ANOTHER person who will join our family and never go away. I mean obviously, when you're pregnant, the end goal is a baby, but sometimes in all the flurry of baby baking, you kinda forget that part. My little one's life is about to be turned upside down by a baby brother. For two and a half years, she's thoroughly enjoyed being an only child. And, of course, here we are to mess that up for her. ';)

I wonder as much as any mother does... What will he look like? What will be his temperament? Will he be quiet and sweet as baby Pookie was, or will he be a loud, angry colicky baby? Will he grow up to love sports as much as his father wants him to? Will he be a mama's boy or totally independent? Are he and his sister going to become best friends or worst enemies? Is he, too, going to be eager to learn about and serve Jehovah?

I know a lot of these things are in our hands... You can do a lot to shape and mold your kids. The problem is, you only get one shot. No take-backs, no do-overs. So you do the best you can the first time around and pray to God it's good enough.

Pheww. What a thought. O_O

All in all, I do have to say that I am very excited. I've been planning for this little guy for nine months. (Really, more like a year and a half if you count the two miscarriages.) And now he's almost here, and the only thing I truly hope for is a happy, healthy baby - GERD or no GERD, colic or no colic, poopy diapers or no poopy diapers. That's my ultimate goal.

I want both of my children to be happy.

Man. A mother's love is overwhelming, sometimes.

Enough self-reflection. Back to business! Bean will be here soon! (And yes, we are STILL debating on what to name the poor child. Le sigh.)

XOXO<3

Ch-Ch-Changes...

I'm not sure when it ends. All I know is that when I look back at the person I was a year ago, I barely recognize her. And when I consider who I was even four years ago - when I was eighteen - I just can't believe it. I'd call fifteen-to-seventeen-year-old-me young and naive. And I'd probably like to punch many of my old me's in the face.

I guess that's the point of living, isn't it? Learning. We grow up... we change... we (hopefully) become better people.

Though I can't be sure. Sometimes I feel like I'm backtracking, instead of moving forward. I'm a sour old goat sometimes. I'm mean. I'm petty. I'm jealous. I'm selfish. I'm awkward. I'm a control freak. Then I try and I try and I try and I really have a sense of improvement... but eventually I get discouraged and fall into my sour old habits.

I'm not a fan of change, anyway. Call me a nerd, but I think what I loved about Anakin Skywalker most (during my crazy-obsessive Star Wars phase) was the fact that he was just. like. me. He hated - abhorred - change. I feel the same way. That's probably just part of my inner control freak.

I was watching these people ride down the highway on a motorcycle the other day and had to think about the one and only time I've ridden on a motorcycle.

I. Was. Terrified.

But I wasn't driving. And I seriously questioned the driving skills and responsibility of the operator of said motorcycle. I was rather convinced I was going to die.

At the same time, I want a motorcycle. I wanna drive one - I wanna see what it feels like to rip down the highway weaving in and out of traffic. Because then, I will be in control. Is it more that I'm a control freak or that I have serious trust issues? It goes back to the old adage, If you want something done right, do it yourself... That's pretty much how I feel, I guess. I feel like I have to do everything myself. I grew up like that, pretty much taking care of myself.

I really, truly trust no one - not completely.

But enough self reflection for tonight. It's starting to make my brain boil. And that's never safe, is it?

Good night, all.

Way Away From Here...

I'm kinda feeling like it'd be great to just not be here right now.

I have a two year old hollering at/for me from the other room because she apparently doesn't believe that sleep is conducive to healthy growth. Well, what the hey, kid, stay up all night! Don't forget to drink your coffee to give you that boost! You're gonna want it. Oh and I heard Adult Swim has good programming.

Le sigh. I'm all out of sarcasm.

SO. The last time I updated this, I was very, very early pregnant. And I don't think I was telling people at that point. Mostly for fear of another miscarriage. (Two in one year kinda makes you leery.) BUT as it turns out, we are still incubating a very healthy and big boy who is due to make his appearance July 2, 2011. (As if he really cares what date my OB has picked out.) As I type, I am seven months pregnant. And wow.

Seven months pregnant. I have two months left to go until he is considered fully baked and could pop out at any minute.

Things are not quite in order. We're rearranging bedrooms. First of all, Pookie will have the bigger room (formerly a junk room) - once we get around to cleaning it out, that is. She also has our old full size bed because we came to realize that, with a toddler in the house, a full size bed is just suddenly NOT big enough. Hence, our lovely queen size mattress. Which means that Bean (our affectionate nickname for the new booger) will have Pookie's old crib and changing table set. I'm undecided about her dresser, though... It all matches, and her dresser also matches the bookshelf my uncle made for her... Ahhh but I digress.

I've decided how to decorate the nursery, at the very least! Mr. and Mrs. Pond Nursery-to-Go Set (: It's a 10-piece set that comes with the bedding, wall hangings, a valance, and a diaper stacker. And I happen to think it's adorable. I've seen various prices online; so far the cheapest (of course) is Wal-Mart. Which is convenient cuz that's where I've set up my registry. I don't wanna be greedy and ask for a lot of big expensive things so, just like last time, I picked out a bunch of inexpensive gifts - but I did throw on the co sleeper and travel set... ya know. Just in case ;) I get the feeling, though, that the registry will not be used... just like last time. I spose we shall see.

AND we have also found Pookie's new bedroom set... we think. We've picked InStyle Candi Bed in a Bag. The good thing about it is that we can throw Dora pillows and posters up to match, and when she outgrows Dora, we'll take it out and turn it into an older girls' room... withOUT buying all new bedding! Thanks to one of my coworkers for THAT idea!

I'm pretty excited about all these changes and redecorating. It's a good distraction from the fact that in just a few months, our lives are going to be all turned upside down... again. Except this time it'll be Pooker's life too. I'm excited... and a bit anxious. Honestly, I know I've done all this before, but I feel like I'm starting ALL over. I don't know what to expect!

Sigh. As one of my friends posted as her Facebook status this evening... Que sera sera.

Whatever will be will be.

Signing off, loved ones. Hope I can keep updating more often. It's a good outlet.

(P.S. I think Pookmonster is down for the count! Hurrah!!)

Stuck Like Glue

That stupid country song has been stuck in my head. I hope it is now stuck in yours.

Too many books, songs, and movies anymore are so blah and plain and unoriginal. I want to write something different. I want to write something people will WANT to read, something with substance and real thought... It's easier said than done.

Up until my laptop charger broke a week ago, I'd been writing lame, fluffy stuff on my computer just to keep the creative juices flowing. I have yet to find something I sincerely WANT to write about. I don't want to be inane or redundant. I used to be able to write stuff that made people go, Holy crap...! I want that back.

Sigh.

It would seem that I have lost my mojo.

Though I have come to the realization that writers - at least the dramatic ones - are bloodsucking vampires that leech all of the dramatic... goodness from every day events. It's like your mind never stops churning. You mentally narrate your day, if only for the satisfaction of saying you wrote something - anything - even if only in your head. Every person, every thing, every event that would make a good story is catalogued for later reference.

Sometimes it feels like it should suck the enjoyment out of life, but I think it makes it rather interesting.

Sometimes I sit and watch people and the way they react to certain conversations and/or environmental changes. Psychology is one of my other fascinations, in case you were wondering. I think I want to write something dark and twisty and psychological, but I lack a solid idea and sincere motivation.

Well. There I go again, off rambling on some random tangent.

Geez.

I'm done for tonight... Done.

Random....

Can I first of all say that our court system is seriously messed up and backwards?

That said, I got out of two undeserved traffic tickets this week alone! Yes you can believe I was praying hard, even if it seems like a stupid, insignificant thing to pray for. But this year has been a mess for a family, and I can't take another fine or more points.

My husband was in the hospital, I had two miscarriages within the space of six months, my daughter was in the hospital with pneumonia... and still I'm kickin :) Ain't kickin very high, but I'm still kickin.

And I still need to write more. I'm so lazy, and I need to cut it out because... well. I'm a writer. It's like the air I breathe. I don't care how cheesy that sounds. It's true. I feel kinda lame and empty when I don't write.

Well here I go going off on random tangents. And all I wanted to do was update. Aahhhh welllll.

:)