It’s the breast milk, baby - January 30, 2005 -
Moments ago, my daughter was sitting on my lap while I read some blogs. On one, there was a picture of a turtle. She pointed to it and I said "turtle". She looked at me, to the turtle, and back to me and said "turtle", clear as a bell.
I am calling Mensa.
Countdown to 40 and did I mention how much I love my new laptop? - January 24, 2005 -
It has been way too long since my last post! Things have been busy here, and I have been having a blast with my new, "mid-life crisis" present. It arrived last week, and is so awesome.
I can now post from any room in the house and no longer have to share computer time with the kids. Yesterday, I browsed the web while DH used the desktop. I pinged him a flirty IM and he ignored it. Or so I thought….he just didn’t know how to ping me back. Married flirting is pathetic at times!
With my brand new, shining laptop I can even sit outside and post. Not that I have done that or anything, but I can if I want. It will be a nice option this spring and summer while the kids play outside. I love being mobile, no longer chained to the computer table. Now I just have to get the digital photo stuff wired to it, and I can post more exciting pictures of my kids! Oh, and those before and after pics of the house, since the work is complete, will be posted soon…having gone several thousand dollars over budget. But what is a few g’s here and there. Ugh!
In other news this week, my FIL is waiting on the results from a US of his heart. He has a pace maker, has had 5 bypass surgery 15 years ago, and has been having some abnormal heart beats. I am hoping all is well, and they will just have to adjust his meds a bit. He is so dear to us, and my kids adore him, so I pray he can have some relief soon from the arrhythmia’s.
My birthday is Wednesday, but given the fact that this week is pure chaos, we opted to go out to dinner OOT with all the kids this past Friday. We went to Red Lobster and stuffed ourselves. Bill and I had several people come up to the table and tell us we were brave, and that we had a beautiful family. Bill drank 7&7, and I had a big, ice cold mug of beer. We had so much fun talking together and watching the kids. I asked Bill if, given the fact that we are not practicing birth control, if he would be upset if we got pregnant, and he said "No way. It is already chaotic here, what difference would adding one more to the mix make?" The way he said it was hilarious, sort of like, "What’s one more among friends?" Too funny. Only problem would be changing my blog name to "and baby makes 7" Or it could be "and baby makes 6…7….8 and so on". Or maybe "40 and still popping them out" as one friend stated. Will have to give it some thought. Also want to wait for my FIL to get his pace maker adjusted and his heart back in normal rhythm as a pregnancy announcement by us would give him a coronary for sure. ‘
The countdown to being ‘fortysomething’ is down to t-minus 1 1/2 days. Fabulous 40, here I come!!
She has her own song - January 12, 2005 -
For your enjoyment, I give you the Mama Mia song. I cannot remember the origin of it, but it has been with her since her first few weeks of life, during breast milk poops aplenty. It is even recorded on her little V-Tech phone. Embarrassingly, my kids sing it to her wherever we are. So, without further delay, here it is in its entirety;
Mama Mi-ah
I can see ya
Makin’ yell-a
Diarrhe-ah
It needs another verse, but we’re not that creative.
You’ll shoot your eye out - January 12, 2005 -
I have become the hypochondriac mother. Ever since the miscarriages, I am in touch with the notion that I am not so invincible. Whoa, it happened to me? Yeah, it sure did.
So, stuff happens and you move on, right? Well, apparently not for me.
I have had some post-partum anxiety. 4 kids ages 10 and under will do that. When you are standing in the kitchen, and the noodle water is boiling over, your husband is asking if you paid the bills, your oldest is reading the sports section out loud to everyone, 7yo is asking if he can feed the cat, 4yo is asking "Can we make the Sea Monkeys, can we make the Sea Monkeys, can we make the Sea Monkeys, can we make the Sea Monkeys, WHEN CAN WE MAKE THE SEA MONKEYS?" and the baby is on the floor pulling on your pants screaming to be picked up because you are the Object of Her Affection, well, the word anxiety doesn’t quite do it justice.
I expected to have some intense moments with a large family. What I didn’t expect is the "stay awake at night" anxiety with worries about all the uncontrollable disasters that could fall upon my husband or one of my kids. Things like, "OMG, that mole on his clubfoot leg is getting bigger, is it cancer?" Or, "Call me every 5 minutes while you are out having fun riding the dirt bike so I will know that you haven’t crashed, broken your neck and left me with 4 kids to raise by myself…but be sure and have fun, in moderation". Then, there is the fact that the two oldest boys got Red Rider BB guns from their grandparents for Christmas, and when they went out to shoot some cans with their dad in the back yard, I actually yelled out the back door "Be careful or you’ll shoot your eye out". The best for last, Bill’s favorite, and an oldie but goodie, "She has fever again. It’s leukemia. I knew everything was going too perfect."
I was trained to expect the worse during miscarriage and infertility hell. I was at depcon 4 in regards to worry and anxiety for 2 full years. It is REALLY hard to come down to depcon 1, even after the birth of Mia…a healthy, gorgeous baby girl. Add to that my medical knowledge, and, well, you get the picture.
So, I carry on with what my husband has diagnosed as PMDD (thanks, honey). I can tell when it’s starting. My hormones rule it. It is part of my monthly cycle, which is completely psychotic due to the breastfeeding, therefore it is unpredictable, and there is nothing more dangerous than an unpredictable, breastfeeding mother of 4. Bill says that I should go for a run or exercise when I feel it coming on. Right. I will schedule that at around 2a.m. while Mia is sleeping and before Quinn dreams that he is peeing and actually does…in our bed.
Last night, after bringing Bill a picture of Quinn’s leg that showed his mole and telling him "So, now that you have seen this, can you tell me it isn’t bigger?" he replied "Well, yes, it is bigger now, which I assume is because his leg, here in this picture, is only 6 weeks old, and now, it has grown into a bigger leg, the leg of a 4 YEAR OLD! Bigger leg, bigger mole. Got it?"
After wards we talked about my anxiety and feelings of being overwhelmed. He was very loving and told me about some vitamins that are known to help. He also said "Look around you. We have a really good life, nothing short of perfect. Granted, your father got cancer, you had miscarriages and then some basal cell cancer removed. Yes, bad things happen, but you have no control over that. Don’t let the possibility of catastrophe control you. You can’t live like that."
Me, "Ahem, your right. I need to let go of the past and enjoy the present. I will put all my energy into it……………. Oh, um, by the way, is that a new growth on your ear?"
New LARGE font - January 4, 2005 -
"and baby makes 6" will now come to you in new, easy-to-read- with-bifocals, large, geezer-style font.
Oh, and to properly celebrate 40 wonderful years on this earth, I have ordered this beauty as a gift for getting so damn old. Now I can post from bed.
The management
fortysomething - January 4, 2005 -
2005?? How can this be? Because, you see, I turn 40 this year……like, this month…..in 22 days. I will not be ‘thirtysomething’ with a ‘fortysomething’ husband. I will no longer be ‘flirty thirty’, or ‘dirty thirty’. I will be 40. What the hell rhymes with 40? ‘Porty forty’? ‘Worty forty’. Just shoot me.
Here are my kids, celebrating the new year, hence my demise into geezer-hood:
They all got spanked afterward for having so much fun. (um, not really)
How could turning 40 make me so paranoid, and, well, so old? After all, it is only natural for your body to sag, your skin to develop even more lovely basal cell cancer lesions, your lips to get all bumpy, your knees to creak and hurt when you try to go from a squatting position to a standing one, your hair to turn gray over night, and, as you watch, in horror, your reproductive cycle approach a screeching halt. I mean, this is the natural progression, right?
Well, not on my turf. For God’s sake, I have a 9 month old! I am breast feeding! I can run 3 miles without needing knee replacement! I SURF, dammit!!!
I got up this morning, I started coffee, and before saying "good morning" turned to my husband said "When I get out of bed in the morning, it hurts to walk on my feet". He looked at me and, nodding his head in understanding replied, (with flourishing hand demonstrations of a trip up and down a mountain peak), "Me too. We reached the peak, and now we are on the slope sliding down the other side." ……silence…… i stared at him…… blinked……crickets chirped………. Then he blurted out "But, it’s all good!!"
One other gem, from earlier in the week. All of our kids grandparents live several hours from here, so we don’t see them on a regular basis. I was telling Bill that I wished our kids could see them all more often, because I felt that grandparents were so important. He replied, while leaning against the sink sipping a beer, "Don’t worry, in a few years we can be the kids parents AND their grandparents".
Dear Mia,
I have a couple of things to tell you. Time races on. Don’t try and grow up too fast. Walking is overrated. Wear sunscreen at ALL times, use those expensive facial creams, watch out for donuts, and don’t blink or you might just miss something important.
Love,
Mommy, aka Granny
