What Does This Make Me?

Holy Cow Moment:  I'm awake all the time. 

I'm awake at night but I'm not a vampire-the non-sparkly kinds. I'm awake in the wee hours of the morning-aka dawn yet  not a morning person. I stay awake thoroughly the day on little to no sleep , but I'm no Zombie -or not the horror story versions. So what am in then? Oh right. A mom :-) 

Happy Mother's Day a few days early!! 

Mom's Plate

Holy Cow Moment ?:  Diet plans are for the birds, just have a kid to eat all your food for you.

Did you know that food - the exact same food mind you, will always taste better on mom's plate?  My toddler will refuse her plate and all that is on it.  She will insist that she is full if no alternate option appears.  However, when mom's plate is within reach the tune will change.  I had no idea that blessing a food item with the luxury of being on mom's plate automatically made it better.You'd think with this option that I wouldn't have gained as much weight as I have with baby 2.  And no, I will not tell you how much that is.  Let's say it is more than what the doctors would like.  (Yes that would be pretty much anything over 5 lbs. Stupid charts.)

Holy Cow I will probably never eat like a normal person again.  Maybe I should start taking enough for 1.5 people - then again with my luck she won't eat that day and I will be left looking like a pig. 

I've Got my Love to Keep Me Warm ...

Holy Cow Moment#:  I hate the idea of leaving my kids and it's worse on those cold winter days. 

It’s snowing and all I want to do is crawl into bed holding my little girl and ignore the world and it’s problems.  Okay – my husband can cuddle too.  The point is I don’t want to leave.  Snow days are made for hot cocoa and Christmas movies.  Cuddling under blankets and snuggling with loved ones.  But, alas, instead I am at work.  Trudging through the snow was not my idea of a good way to spend two hours this morning.

The one thing that I never expected was the fear of my own death.  Not the fear of dying, but the fear of accidentally leaving my child.  This new fear has made driving seem more treacherous and worse yet it has made me realize why I have such a hard time with leaving my child to anyone else. 

It isn’t because there aren’t people that I trust.  There are a select few – you know who you are.  But rather, it’s because I don’t want to let her down.  I hate the idea of not being there when she needs me.  I almost think I have a fear of abandonment myself and therefore I can’t leave her alone more than necessary.  Does this make me a bad parent?  I guess it depends on who you ask.  My child does go to daycare so it isn’t as if she will never get away from me. But after I get her, why would I waste time by sending her off to someone else instead of being a mommy and interacting with my kid if I have the choice?

Everyone has their own parenting strategies and no one is really wrong.  So don’t judge me and I won’t judge you. 

Warning Labels - Caution You are Now Entering Parenthood

Holy Cow Moment:  If your job came with a warning label what would it be?

Parenthood:

Warning: May cause severe heart issues, nervous twitches, lack of energy, unexplained weight gain, loss of adult vocabulary, disappearance of time, unidentified stains on clothing, homes may suddenly appear tiny, hair loss or unexplained hair-styles, lack of patience, leaky bladders during sneezes or extreme laughter, uncontrolled laughter, millions of smiles, a weak spot for a tiny human, loss of concern if your house is messy, overwhelming pride, and complete disregard for everything else wrong with your body now. 

The shuffle

Holy Cow Moment #?:  Why did becoming a mom erase my unease with most functions that used to cause me  discomfort?  Oh right, it's because once you have a child what is there to hide?  No less then ten people saw me - i mean saw ME! My poor husband tried to keep my modesty but the nurses and doctors and specialists certainly don't.

I still participate in certain 'pass times,' but I still find them funny just less vital then I used to.  Such as the bathroom stall shuffle. Why is it we see someone in a stall and we have to move over, not one, but two. If there are only two stalls it seems to cause a standoff for the parties involved. News flash...you are in a bathroom and so am i -i think i know what happens.

That said we all do it. Maybe its the idea of privacy. Which.is only an idea since there are no walls...in fact the small stalls barely cover you below the knee.  The other thing a find entertaining as a mom, is in general you always have someone watching you 'do your thing'.  My toddler doesn't seem to get personal space ever.  I think what goes through her head is: "Mommy is sitting.  Cool, lets climb on her."  Just one more reason mom's somewhat have to stop caring about certain social idiosyncrasies.

So, Although I will automatically move over to a stall not next to an occupied stall i still find this to be funny and somewhat ridiculous.  As if one stall is going to hide what you are doing.  Maybe it is human nature because my daughter hates when I change her and someone else is around.  Maybe we are born with modesty? - well some of us anyway.

Adrenaline

Holy Cow Moment ?#:  I have seen the stories where a mother has been able to lift a car off their child due to adrenaline.  The love of a child is extraordinary.  I too have seen this in my life… I can kill a spider if the said arachnid if threatening my child.  Okay.  So this isn’t really the same as lifting a car but it is no small challenge for someone who is petrified, as in I need boots to step foot in the yard for fear of an attack – well maybe not boots but shoes none the less.  I get the hebbie jebbies so bad I can’t rest when I know a spider is in plain sight.   (Please see a previous post for further explanation).

To date I have killed four – count it FOUR –

1.       Killed a spider that was on the bathroom floor.  I know it was stealth crawling to get to my daughter – okay so she happen to be across the room in the closet but he looked shady to me.

2.       Killed another arachnid foe on the wall.  I know he was arriving by air to attack from above; sort of like a Halo Jumper.  Yes, my daughter was actually in his path.

3.       Spider three was found at daycare. I think he was tired of my daughters theatrics but alas he had to go.  This one was actually a joint effort.  Three woman – two teachers and myself.  Oddly enough I succeed and saved my devil – I mean darling – from any bites.  This spider was not stealthy, it was a blatant attack – I am positive.

4.       Spider four happened to catch me by surprise and although I normally am a rational person (okay not when it comes to spiders) he caught me off guard and was smashed in the process.

I can say spider 1-3 were 100% piousness even if not deadly.  Thank you Google for giving me nightmares.  Spider 4 was unidentified and therefore I can’t say.

SO sorry to my previous post that said I would research a spider before killing – I will work on this.  Spiders give me the creeps just like aliens.  If I saw an alien I don’t know that I wouldn’t try and kill it and ask questions later – granted if they were cute and furry like a dog I would most likely pause and ask if they were here as a foe or friend.   

Monday by any other name

Monday mornings are the worst… well next to Sunday nights.  I hate the impending doom – er I mean the inevitable beginning to the work week.  I dread leaving my daughter every morning but unfortunately I was not born into money and worse yet I didn’t marry for money.  I know right?  The one thing you can control and most of us marry for love.  Okay, actually I wouldn’t have it any other way but I still hate leaving my daughter.

Why is it that she is a nightmare at night, always!  The time when you can spend every second with her, you can hold and cuddle her.  You can watch a cartoon or play with her favorite ball, but yet she is usually Miss Busy Bee and doesn’t want to cuddle or sit with me at all.  I get pushed away by my almost eleven month old as if she has better things to do, I guess I can’t compete with the activity table and fisher price cell phone.  Fine whatever.  But still if she were this nightmare child in the morning AND I didn’t have to worry about my husband getting sleep I just might not hate leaving to go to work.  It would make my life just that much easier knowing I get to leave and take a mental break before I inadvertently put her up on ebay for a price that can’t be denied.

I guess children know?  They must realize that mom needs a reason to come home, she needs the mental anguish as a reminder to not forget to come home.  Granted her smile of joy when I walk into to get her from “school” makes everything worth while.  I know she missed me and sometimes I really think these few precious hours away strengthen our relationship because I am ready to deal with her grumpy butt, but better yet I cherish her smiles.  I love the moments when I get to hold her, or when she puts her tiny, chubby, baby hands on either side of my face and pulls me into her.  These are the moments that save her from her would be ebay fate and also the moments I want to cherish because I know that all too soon she really  won’t want anything to do with me. 

Monday morning is hard to leave because of her content and sweet disposition as i feed her before work, but Monday nights have to be the best because she misses me.

Holy Cow who knew that although having a child has made something’s in life harder – like leaving the house or having to return to the work on a Monday she has actually given me something to look forward to all day.  Sure she is driving me at high speeds into a mental break down some days, but for the most part I am enjoying the ride - but for the love is it hard to get out of the house in the mornings, especially Mondays.  If you thought Mondays were bad before, just have a child and they get worse. If we called Monday by any other name would it still suck?

The Little Things

I found a star pasta in my spaghetti today – courtesy of my ten and a half month old daughter.  The little star made me tear up and my heart squeeze at how much I miss her each day I am at work.  Isn’t it funny how your child is forever implanted into your life?  You know they will be around forever – or a minimum 18 years baring all catastrophes (I pray no one ever has one.) But you never think about how  the little things are what really imprint your baby into your life.  A star shaped pasta from her dinner the night before that goodness knows how it got into the lunch you packed, or the tiny sock that somehow found its way into your pants pocket in the wash the night before.  The little drool mark that annoyed you as you left for work is now dried but the pink tinge (thank you Benadryl) is still there.  The odd longing to hold your baby in your arms (and baby could even be your twenty year old, they are still you baby – of course holding a twenty year old in your arms is a bit different then a twenty pound toddler) the longing stays with you throughout the day.

The memory of how my daughter reached out last night, mouth wide open (because somehow she thinks this is a kiss) and slobbered not only my mouth by also my nose still makes me giggle.  Ok, so really everything out kids do that is nice makes us love them even more… husbands well…just kidding.  I love my husband too.   I love the Reese’s Easter egg that I found in the fridge after a rough night or the chocolate milk that he just thought I needed (I have a little addiction I won’t lie.)  But in life its all the little things that make us feel loved – and help us to not eat our young or bite the heads off of our husbands (or wives). 

So when you are sitting down – er I mean standing up trying to gulp down your coffee while balancing a child on one hip, laundry on the other, maybe listening to another child screaming and smelling your dinner burn remember the small things that make your day complete.

Mommy Stalking

Holy Cow Moment ?: have you ever found yourself on the quest for other moms in your same situation? Or maybe not even the same situation but maybe just the same vicinity-like your neighborhood? How about using your kid as bait?

Nothing, I repeat nothing will stop people dead in their tracks to talk to you like a baby. For those out there trying to improve your social life-have a baby, for those trying to snag a man-borrow a baby (or have one, that seems extreme though), for those trying to meet neighbors that one might have lived by you for seven years-have a baby, an excuse for dark circles under you eyes-have a...oh wait that's how you get dark circles from the lack of sleep.

Well folks I did it. I put my baby in the stroller and walked around the area...thirty minutes of walking for nothing. Not one new person was out, not a single mommy to be seen. I needed adult conversation and all I got was exercise.

The Not So Itsy Bitsy Spider

Holy cow moment ?:  I was attacked by the biggest spider ever!  Ok, maybe attacked is the wrong word.  More like surprised.  But it was the biggest spider ever, or well, it was the biggest spider at the moment – ok so any spider is massive when it comes down from the ceiling in the garage without warning!  Has anyone heard my terrible spider stories?

Pre-Baby Occurrences

Incident 1: I was walking down the stairs of my unfinished basement to be greeted by a massive spider. I am talking six feet by six feet – no joke.  Turns out it was the shadow of a spider whose body –not including legs – was the size of a quarter in the window well outside the house who was being projected onto the wall.  Thank you Mr. Sun for the heart attack.  I think I might have peed myself.  To exact my revenge – or to rid my house of this horrible spider to rival all spiders, I crept out of my house through the patio doors, down the porch through the grass to the side of the house.  I was careful and quiet – because we all know that spiders  jump out and attack (or maybe this was a little overkill.) As I slowly got within shooting range of the window well – roughly six feet is what the bottle of Home Defense said I started to shoot.  Eyes closed, I aimed (yes figure that one out) and started to rapid fire off nearly a third of the bottle.  HAHA, take that you deadly spider.  Go back from whence you came. Assuming I had a deadly infestation I promptly returned inside, proceeded to wash my hands four times to remove any possible contamination, from spider six feet away or the bug spray that was in my hand.  Once I was certain things were all taken care of I sat down at the computer and look up my evil nemesis.  Turns out the poor spider –yes poor innocent creature – was a “Cat faced” spider.  Look it up.  They are ugly as sin BUT totally harmless, never come in doors and only eat insects.  I did and still do feel guilty.

Incident 2: A year or so after the first terrifying experience I came home from work like normal and in a good mood.  The weather was beautiful and I was probably humming – if not it certainly conveys the mood I was in.  I came home, loaded my work computer bag onto my shoulder, grabbed my purse and walked to the front door. As I was struggling with my keys to the front door something caught my attention out of the corner of my eye.  I paused, logically thought about it and went to put my key into the front door.  My thought was that there is no way something that large was really there, must have been a leaf- but no it moved again.  This time I paused, stood very still before resolving myself to slowly look over at the small wall by the door, and then I screamed like a small child, dropped my bag and ran across the street.   Lucky for me I had my cell phone which I promptly used to call my husband, who was still at work I might add.  Breathlessly and calmly (not) I described the situation.  “There is the world’s biggest spider by the front door. I’m locked out.  I can’t get in the front door.  It’s huge, no wait massive!” 

My husband sweetly and patiently then responds to oh-so calm wife. “Ok, I doubt it is that big.”

Me: “No it really is.”

Husband: “Really?  I think you might be over reacting.”

Me:  “Oh yeah?  I’ll show you.  Hold on.”  I then proceed to stop over to the house, get close enough to zoom in with my camera on the phone and snap a photo.  The spider is wider than a standard brick, he (of course it’s male in my book), is by a power outlet and is larger than that even.  It is huge!!! A minute later my husband gets the photo.

Husband: “Ok, that is a big spider. Well kill it.”

Me: “With what?”

Husband: “I don’t know. Your shoe?”

Me: “Uh huh. Right.  No.  Come home.  I am locked out.”

Husband: “There is a key pad on the garage.  Can you get to the garage?”

Me: “oh”

From there I proceed to get into the garage choose my bug spray of choice (I have a lot) and stand, once again, as far as possible from the offending bug.  Once again I douse it.  (please no one tell me how cruel this is.  I really don’t mean it but in the moment of panic my mind doesn’t work.) After waiting several minutes of watching said spider do the death thrash dance I finally see him dead, curled in a ball.  This allows me to get close enough to grab my bag, walk back to the garage and shut the nightmare out – until the next day when I remember the corpse and refuse to use the front door until my husband buries the body.  Later I found out it was a tarantula – another fairly harmless spider.  After that moment I decided I would go look up the species first and then decide to kill it or call someone to relocate it – no I am not touching it.

FYI I did not ask the current spider that start this blog what he was.  It was night, it was dark and he ambushed me therefore he died.

Back to present:

I have fears, I think I stated this in a previous post; I listed Zombie apocalypse preparation even. Back to the current trauma at hand;  I am terrified of spiders.  But I have reached outside my comfort zone to protect my little girl.  I will kill that mean evil, HUGE, Mutant spider in the name of mommy-hood.  I am afraid I will let her down someday, I hate that I won’t be there for every bump or bruise but when I am there I will make sure I do the best I can for her.  Who knew having a child would make me cry at darn near everything but give me the strength to kill a spider?  I still can’t say if my husband thinks the trade offs are all that great but I do know he agrees that our little-one is worth everything – of course he is not the one with the issues from the pregnancy now is he? 

Holy cow I can kill a spider.  I still get the hebbie Jebbies but I can do it.