Baby #3, Worth the Craziness?

When we began our family making adventures, my hubby and I discussed having 4 kids.  I wanted maybe 2 or 3 kids, my hubby wanted 4, so we compromised and decided on 4.  :-)  Ok, he convinced me that 2 was not enough (boring), 3 would be uneven (think about amusement parks, how sad one will not have a partner), so 4 is perfect!  I got different takes on it from those in the family.  My mom said I was crazy to want 4, my aunt had 4 and she said it was one too many (I wonder which "one" she was referring to), and my MIL had 4 and she told me it was easy as pie. (ok not that, but she said I could handle it) Oh and another family member told me that it wouldn't be that bad because the older kids could help with the smaller ones, so I guess that means I could enlist a future 4 and 6 year old to take care of a baby and 2 year old while mommy took a nap, ran some errands, had a drink, this could be great!  Then pregnancy #1 came along and right away I thought, yeah, I don't know if I can do this again and it was only the 1st trimester!  Everything hurt, my back, my female parts, my boobs, my head.  This kid was already causing trouble.  The good thing though was it made my blood pressure low which is unusual for me because I have high blood pressure and have been on meds since I was 17.  I always get the same reaction, "You are so young to have HBP," "You aren't overweight,"  "Do you eat alot of salt?"  Nope, just thank my Daddy's messed up genes for that one, thanks Dad!  Anyways, my 1st pregnancy wasn't really that bad until my last month.  My BP starting getting too high and at my last appointment, it skyrocketed and the doc said I had to be induced the next am.  "But I still have too much to do," I cried, and he said "Not anymore you don't."  So the next morning, I was induced and had my son 6 hours later, no epidural (platelets too low) and only one freaking dose of Demerol.  I was in alot of pain the whole time and wanted to stab the nurse who wouldn't give me anymore medicine.  (ok, I know it was for my own good, but still!) I had the normal baby blues, but over all, my son was a pretty good baby.  We were sleepless for the first few weeks, but after that it was manageable.  A few years later, we decided to have another baby. Pregnancy was about the same.  I mean I loved being pregnant, but then I didn't.  I loved the fact I helped create a life and it was inside me, kicking and moving all around was so amazing and beautiful.  I just didn't like all the aches and getting that "look" from the nurse like she knew I just ate that entire chocolate cake with the cream cheese frosting.  The 2nd pregnancy was about the same as the 1st, except I was a little more tired and achy.  Plus, it was harder since I now had a toddler to take care of at the same time.  My blood pressure was low most of the time, except again towards the last month.  I was able to carry this baby about a week longer than the 1st before the doc said, "This kid needs to be born."  At least this time I was prepared ahead of time and kind of expected this.  Went to the hospital the next morning already 4 cm dilated, was given Pitocin, and had my girl 1.5 hours later.  No time for pain meds this time, thanks Nurse Meany!  "No honey, you are dilating too fast, no time for anything."  I guess they think if they say "honey" or "sweety" it sounds less mean, well it sounds more mean!  To top it off, the nurses told me to keep my legs closed and try to wait for the doctor before I started to push. Ummm ok, but tell that to the baby who is pushing on my booty hole and trying to selfishly be born! The doc comes in the room and I have never spread my legs so fast, record time I'm sure, and BAM, 2 pushes and I have never felt so much relief in my life.  I tell myself, I am closing up my baby making facility for good.  This little girl was not the angel she is now.  I did not sleep for the first 3 months and felt like I was going to go crazy.  She had alot of gas, got her days/nights mixed, and was very sensitive.  My mom could only stay for about a week (she lives out of state), my hubby had to go back to work after another week, and my MIL could only stay a week.  So, I at least got 3 weeks of help before I was on my own.  Everyone tried to take care of her so I could get some rest, but she only wanted me.  It was different from my son, he would go with just about anyone with a warm body.  Then after everyone left, I couldn't always "sleep" when she would finally "sleep" because I had a toddler to take care of.  So there were those many nights I would lay her down and go to the bathroom and do that screaming where nothing came out thing and do punches and kicks in the air, cry like a baby on the bathroom floor, just so I wouldn't go A wall and burn the house down.  Eventually, she got better and now to look at her, she is such an angel and a wonderful affectionate little girl.  So now we are at the dilemma if we should have another one.  I have this feeling like my family is not complete, but then I think that I cannot handle another 3 months like that.  Since I don't know how the next baby will be, I am hesitant to have another one.  So, I sit here and ponder if having a 3rd child is worth the risk of my mental health.  I know it will only be temporary, but in that moment you really feel helpless and like it is never going to end.  This time I need to put myself first and realize that just because others think I can handle more kids, I know myself better and having only two kids is not boring at all.  My family is complete and just fine as can be.  Hopefully, I won't be saying "Oopsie" in the future and if I do, I'll make sure I'll enlist some of those people who said "If you need any help..."  Damn right I do!

The Anniversary "Scam"

So my mom, stepdad, and brother come to visit from out of state during my anniversary. 
Mistake # 1- do not agree to family visiting during the time you intend to celebrate your anniversary, in this case our 5 years.
Before my mom scheduled her flight, she did ask if it was OK because as she put it "we can watch the kids so you guys can go out and celebrate."  So I figured, oh this will be nice, my mom will come visit and my hubby and I will get to go out for a romantic dinner and movie and maybe a stroll on the beach.  Or we could go to Six Flags since it has been years since we have been.  I love, I mean LOVE Six Flags, except the Goliath ride.  I swear the last time I rode that one it was my last.  I think there is something wrong when you get indigestion while you are waiting in line from the anxiety and your heart feels like it is out of your chest, all this and you aren't even on the ride yet!  Anywho, they come to town and we have a lovely time for a few days.  A day before our anniversary, my mom states again how I must be looking forward to going out for my anniversary, no kids, be able to "reconnect" with my hubby.  She was looking forward to spending time with the kids while we were out and about.  My better half takes the day off  so he has the whole day to spend with me.  We make plans to take my parents and brother to the beach so we can play and make sand castles with the kids, then come home, get ready, go out to dinner, then watch a movie.  That morning I offer to make some waffles and eggs while they insist, "oh no we'll just eat cereal so you don't have to spend all that time making something, or we could go to IHOP?"  (ok, I know my waffles are delicious- so WTF?) While they eat their soggy raisin bran cereal, I hear comments like "You know we already went to the beach about a month ago, so we don't have to go unless you want to, "...  " Is it going to be cold, cause it needs to be really hot outside if we go to the beach,"...   "Is it going to be crowded, you know I hate crowds,"... and " I'll have to use your washer cause you know we'll get sandy and dirty and."... Blah, Blah Blah!
Mistake #2 -don't make plans to try to please other people, cause no matter how much you try, some people are unpleasable.
Trying to keep my cool and not blurting out "Why didn't you say this while we were discussing it when you got here?  Why wait till THE MORNING OF to bitch about it?", I calmy suggest that we can just go to the park, then come home and play in the back, play ping pong, etc..  All of this they seemed to prefer, so great, I get to save some gas, everyone wins I guess.  Then my mother looks at me with a worry in her eye and says "Oh, your brother will be disappointed though, he was looking forward to going to the beach, so maybe you can take him with you to the movies."  I think I just stared at her with a duh look not knowing what to say while she continued, "He can see a different movie or sit away from you guys."  I thought, ok my brother would probably want to get away from these crazies and he won't want to see Crazy Stupid Love (which was great by the way), so I told her that after my hubby and I go to dinner that we'll come back and pick up my brother for the movies.  Then she looks at my stepdad and then looks at me and says, "Oh, umm, yea, your stepdad wants to take you guys out for your anniversary, but maybe we can do lunch instead. Then if you guys could pick us up something from McDonald's for dinner before you leave to go out to a restaurant, oh and don't forget about the kids, they'll need to eat too."  Ok, what I should have said to that was "Ok, cool, we'll do that.  Let's go out to lunch and then we'll pick you guys up a Big Mac and some happy meals for the kids cause you are right, they do need to eat!"  Instead, 
Mistake #3- do not agree to go out to dinner with your parents for your "anniversary" even if it means they are paying for it because your mom gives you a guilt trip. Even though this whole go out to dinner/movie while we watch the kids was all Her idea.
Fast forward to dinner time, we go to order and my hubby wants to order the calamari, which my moms likes by the way, and my stepdad makes an ewwy face like we were ordering some fried dog.   My considerate husband says, "oh don't worry I'll pay for it, we can just put that on my bill."  My stepdad being the generous person he is makes sure he tells the waiter that he is picking up the tab for the whole bill, except put the calamari on my husband's bill.  This is after a lady gave me a $10 off coupon outside the restaurant that she wasn't going to use after all and it was going to expire the next day.  I then gave the $10 coupon to my stepdad since he was picking up the tab for our "anniversary" dinner.  I guess my stepdad thought the calamari was a $100 or something, cause when the bill came he asked how much the calamari was and I stated, "$10.95," in which he in turn said, "Oh, well I'll give this back to you guys," handing me the $10 off coupon.  My mom says "You are giving them the coupon?  Wow, that is nice of you!"  Ok, trying not to bust out laughing for a reason they would NOT find funny, I just look at my husband and we give each other a "oh my God" look, I calmly sit there waiting, hoping there will not be any traffic so we can quickly drop them off while my hubby, brother, and I go to the movies for our "anniversary." 
What I have learned from this ridiculous experience is that next year if they want to come out for our anniversary, I will kindly say, "Sorry we are going out of town," even if we really are just sitting at home eating waffles reminiscing about last year's anniversary.  WHAT A SCAM!

We Can't Do It All

That is what we are told as Moms, that we need to take a time out for ourselves, try to lower our expectations on what a "clean" house is, don't do everything in one day, ask for help if we need it, etc etc etc..  Maybe for some moms out there, all these things are possible, but for some of us, we have people in our lives that just don't get it and make it a little more difficult for us.  There are days that I have so much to do that I feel so overwhelmed that I don't do anything.  Instead of breaking things down, I see the whole picture and tell myself that I will never get all these things done and just kind of stress out.  I think it is since I am a work at home mom (I love that title, better then sahm), there are these expectations that since I am at home, I have so much time that there is no reason not to get everything done.  (hahaha)  Excuse me, but cooking, cleaning, running errands, paying bills, getting and putting up groceries, doing laundry, folding and putting up clothes, and others things that come up each day, is a job, I just don't get paid for it.  All of these things are suppose to get done while taking care of two kids, one in which clings on to me for dear life from the moment she is awake.  (separation anxiety, teething, who knows)  So trying to get all these things done while taking care of 2 kids and keeping them entertained at the same time, is not always easy.  If you have kids you cannot expect your house to be clutter free or have a house that is spotless.  Even if you can afford a cleaner, most of us feel guilty that we have to get a cleaner because we should be able to do it all.  I hate the fact that when we have company, I hear my husband tell people "Oh sorry about the mess..."  We have 2 kids, of course there are going to be toys everywhere!  What do you expect, the little miss and mister to only pull out one toy at a time and then go, "Oh my, I want to play with that one, let me put this one back now..." hahahaha, yeah right!  This is what happens:  Before company comes over Mommy puts toys up in a basket, Mommy turns her back for a couple minutes and cleans up something else, Mommy comes back and lovely children have dumped all the toys back on the floor because they had this deviant plan all along.  So Mommy goes "F*ck it", and goes into the bathroom for her "time out."  I also get things like this from my sympathetic husband, "My mom had 4 kids, if she could do it, so can you and you only have 2 kids."  I ONLY have 2 kids?   "I had the kids all day, I don't see what the big deal is."  Ok, having the kids all day while you sit on the couch and watch TV is NOT THE SAME THING THAT I DO!  Ok, I feel a little better.
Unlike popular belief, we do not sit at home all day and watch Dr. Phil while eating bon bons.  Do they even still make bon bons? I don't even remember the last time I actually sat on the couch and watched an entire program by myself without worrying or doing something for the kids.  It also doesn't help that when my mom comes to visit, she says things like this in front of my husband, "Well I worked and still had time to clean my house" or "Oh my gosh, you cleaned."  I have had plenty of issues with my MIL, but one thing that I can say is that she at least stands up for me when it comes to the house and taking care of the kids.  She always is understandable and puts her son in his place, and she is the one that had the 4 kids and little me only has the 2! My mom should be the one on my side, not making a case for my "better" half.  I know I am not the only one in this position, because I hear from other moms I know that they are in similar situations.  Their husbands, including mine, think that since we are being supported, they don't need to lift a finger and if they do we should be rubbing their feet and praising them for their "extra" effort of taking out the trash, changing a pee diaper(not even a poopy one), or "babysitting" the kids for us.  WHAT?  Since when is is called "babysitting" when it is your own kids?  ARGH! 
So what I have realized while writing this is maybe these are also my own expectations since I put up with it.  Instead of complaining about it and trying to do the impossible, I should just say "Screw this sh*t" and when things get overwhelming, sit on the couch, watch a pre-recorded episode of Cheaters (ok I really don't watch that) while eating fattening ice cream, put the kids in the other room(safely of course) and have them watch Yo Gabba Gabba.  I know you are gasping either because of the forbidden putting your kids in front of the TV (they will be scarred for life) or you are gasping because of Yo Gabba Gabba.  Is it just me or are those characters a little "off?"  Oh well, my son loves them and it is educational.  Anywho, at least I got this off my chest and my husband can live another day!

My son saying the "N" word

Ok, my son is not really using that "n" word, at least not intentionally.  There is a dog in my husband's family that is named "Negra."  My hubbie is Hispanic and his entire family is mostly Spanish speaking.  The dog is black and "negra" in Spanish means black.  I don't know if anyone names their pet whitey, or blacky, or yellowy, etc. but it just doesn't sound right especially when my 3 year old calls its name.  You can imagine a sweet little boy chasing a little doggie going "Come here, Negra!  Negra, Negra, Negra!"  It doesn't sound like it is suppose to.  Every time we are outside or at an event where they take the dog, I cringe when he calls that dog's name.  I am just waiting for an outsider to give me a dirty look or  come up to me and slap me in the face for allowing my son to use that kind of word.  So far, no one has done either but I don't really look around to see if anyone is giving me that "look."  Since we live in an area that is mostly Hispanic, that might be the reason we don't get the dirty looks because someone  might hear my little boy and at first think as Dave Chappelle puts it "oh my God, that is racist," but then look at him chasing a black dog and then think, "Oh, he is saying Negra which is black, whew!"  I am not Hispanic and did not grow up with hearing dogs being called blacky or "Negra" so I just can't fathom calling a pet those names since it doesn't sound right.  What happened to the cute names like Spot or Fluffy?  Those don't sound questionable do they?  I'm sure even those names could be turned around and offend someone out there too.  Maybe someone who has a skin condition might not  like Spot or Fluffy might offend a person going bald, but c'mon, "Negra," that sounds like the stomach turning "N" word when you hear it from a preschooler.  This reminds me of the time I was in kindergarten.  School was over for the day and I started running and skipping down the big hill that is outside the elementary school.  My dad was at the bottom of the hill waiting for me with a big grin on his face as he was looking at his precious little girl happily singing a song that I had heard so many times before.  It goes a little something like this.... "Went to the river and I couldn't get across, jumped on a N***er cuz I thought it was a hoss,"  I'm sure there were other disgusting words to that song that I can't seem to remember because from that day, I think my Dad removed them from my brain.  My dad's big grin turned into an expression of "Oh my God, what the hell are you singing and why are you singing it in front of all these other parents who are going to look at me and beat me down?"  My dad looked at me with sweat pouring down his face and asked "Where did you hear that song!!?" and I replied "Papa."  That is what I called my grandpa(my mom's dad, but I'm sure my dad's dad was equally racist-just didn't sing songs to me) My dad says "Well I'm going to have a talk with Papa, you are to never sing that song again."  Then I'm sure he explained to me why.  My Dad always taught me to treat everyone the same and to never think that I was better then anyone because I was white.  There were other lessons too about race and other things, but my point is I was not raised to think or say these types of things.  So now as an adult, hearing my son shout out a derogatory word like that immediately sends shivers down my spine.  Plus, what doesn't help is when he says the dog's name, there are other people around that laugh and think it is funny.  Ok, so I know it isn't just me and I am not being sensitive about it, he really does make the word sound not the way it was intended.  I mean, for pete's sake (never thought I would use that phrase in my life), can't they just call the dog, "Doggie?"  That is what you call the dog anyway, "Here doggie doggie." 

Releasing the Anger

OK, so my anger towards my parents, especially my mom comes and goes.  I have so much resentment towards her because of my child molestation. 
I don't remember when the molestation started, but I know when it stopped, I was six.  I remember because the principal pulled me from class and my cousin was in his office.  My cousin, really the hero for it stopping, told the principal that he was being molested by our uncle.  Uncle "Perv" is what I now call him.  In that confession, my cousin also told the principal that I was also being molested.  I denied that I was being molested  for reasons I am still not sure of, but did state that my cousin was. Because of this, my uncle was arrested and eventually put in jail.  Maybe part of the reason I denied it is because before this happened, I told my Grandma (that is where it happened, my uncle lived there and she "babysat" my brother, cousin, and I and we would spend the night) and all I got out of her was "oh he wouldn't do that."  Later, I told my parents.  I remember sitting down with them and said that uncle so and so was touching me down there.  I was a little girl, I couldn't explain at the time that he was putting his hands down my pants and doing gross things.  I don't want to elaborate too much, but you can imagine among other things he would do that I shall not name.  I don't remember their reaction because I was crying, all I know is that it didn't stop.  I was still being "watched" by my grandma and all my dad said was that I couldn't go on his motorcycle anymore.  So you think he was molesting me on his motorcycle?  Ok... so it continued until that fateful day when my cousin rescued me, not my parents, not my grandma, but my 9 year old cousin.  Over the years I learned that they thought that maybe my uncle accidentally touched me, like brushing against me or something.  That I was a paranoid little girl and weren't sure to believe me or not.  Ok, did you ever think that maybe I was paranoid because  my uncle was taking me in the back room while my grandma was sleeping and doing those nasty things to me?  Even if they weren't sure, why risk it and put me in the same situation?  I guess because they needed a babysitter and instead of finding another one, it probably wasn't as bad as I was making it out to be right?  Even him being in jail didn't stop him from talking to me.  I was still being watched by my grandma after he was in jail and he would call from jail and she would put me on the phone with him because he wanted to talk to his baby.  How sick is that?  Then after he was out of jail (he did 7 years), my parents invited him over for Thanksgiving dinner.  The only reason he didn't come over was because I overheard my parents talking and started crying.  I didn't want to see that perv and all my mom said was "Why don't you like  my family?"  Ok, let me see here, because they are crazy sick people? If you were raped, would you want to see your rapist at Thanksgiving dinner?  Then another time I went with my family to see my grandparents and he was going to be there and I was told, "He will only be there for a little while."  So basically just suck it up and deal with it.  I spent the whole time in the kitchen avoiding him while he was in the living room.  I have all this resentment and I don't know how to release the anger.  I am not really mad at my uncle, he is a perv and I have accepted that.  Never in my life again, ever, but I don't hold any anger towards him.  What is worse then being molested is nobody believing you or doing anything about it.  I think I hold the resentment towards my mom because it was her brother and she is suppose to have protective instincts like a mother bear and not let anyone hurt her babies.  After telling my parents as an adult exactly how I felt, my dad seemed remorseful and would have done things differently.  My mom just didn't "get" it and I have the feeling that if she could have done it over, she would have done the same thing.  Her excuse was that she was a young parent (she was 27 at the time) and wasn't sure how to handle it.  To this day, she still keeps in contact with my uncle which boggles my mind. I try to have a relationship with her and most of the time we get along fine, but there is always this wall that is between us and I don't think I will ever put it down.  I heard a quote on Oprah before that "forgiveness is not about letting the person back in your life.  Forgiveness is about giving up the hope that the past could have been different."  Letting go of the anger is a constant battle that I hope one day I will win.

If You Look for Me

The smell of chocolate chip cookies baking in the oven

An opened can of tab sitting in the fridge

The scent of caress soap lingering in the air

These are things I hold dear from her, my angel, my guiding force, my Grandma

The passing has been awhile now, but I feel her everyday

She speaks to me in my ear, always present, always near

“If you look for me, look at the sky, look up high and you will see”

“I am the brightest star shining down, looking at you as you look at me”

As I gaze out into the stars, it comforts me to know she is there

She is such a source of strength, of guidance, and care

Though she is not here in the same sense as I am, she is ever here in my mind

My memories keep her alive, as if she is still holding my hand

Telling me stories, making me laugh, giving advice

I miss her so, but I know I will see her in the next life

Baking chocolate chip cookies

Sipping on a can of tab

Smelling like caress soap

These and much more are the fingerprints she has left on me

Marked by the trails of her existence forever etched in my heart

My angel, my guiding force, my Grandma

She speaks to me in my ear, always present, always near

“If you look for me, look at the sky, look up high and you will see”

“I am the brightest star shining down, looking at you as you look at me.”

A Whole Bunch of Poo

Oh my, what is it with kids and poop?  Is it really that fascinating?  Why can't they smell what we do and be disgusted?  Those and more are questions that I have asked myself because of some recent poo incidents that have occurred in my household.  A few days ago, I was taking a nap with my son and woke up to realize that my baby girl has been napping for quite awhile and I haven't heard a peep.  So, I decide to enter her room and right away as usual, she is right there with a big ol' grin, jumping anxiously in her crib waiting for me to pick her up.  I do what I usually do, smile and grab a hold of her, but I soon realize something is wrong, stinky wrong.  I look in her crib, her diaper is off, streaks of poo smeared on her sheet, her mouth lined with brown stuff, her hands and fingernails with a chunk of it, and her left foot also had it as if she was stepping in it.  Right away, I change my friendly demeanor into a shriek of "OH NO, GROSS, eww, eww, eww, eww!"  I must say though that I did handle it alot better than when it happened with my son when he was a baby.  I think with him if I recall correctly, my reaction was something like, "HONEY, GET IN HERE NOW, HURRAY I NEED HELP, OH MY GOD!"  Of course my "honey" thought I was having a heart attack or something and was running upstairs with the phone getting ready to call 911.  I have never seen anyone so relieved to find out it was just crap thrown on the walls and my son using his poo as a shampoo in his hair.  So what is the fascination with poo?  Is it cuz of the texture, sometimes lumpy, other times smooth like peanut butter?  Is it fun to play with like a wet version of playdoh? How can they taste it and not puke?
Well my little girl is still an angel and my son has turned out fine so far (he's under 5), so I guess there are worse things they could get into, right?  (I'm trying to think of some things)
Oh yeah, I almost forgot to mention the worst part.  As I picked her up and was about to kiss her on the back of the head out of habit, I quickly stopped myself because as I smelled the poop in her hair and noticed there were two little pieces of green stuff clinging to her hair strands.  Then I remembered, she had peas as a part of her lunch earlier that day.  BARF!