Getting My Crap Together

Or not. 

I really hate to admit this, but I drastically underestimated the weight of the transition of becoming a SAHM. Emotionally and dynamically with me and my marriage. It's been really hard. And I did not see that coming. 

Apparently have you to be, like, tremendously self motivated and stuff. There is most certainly a Busy Bee side to me, but being busy and organized should really go hand in hand. And well organized, I am not. Which has become disturbingly clear since taking on this new role. I am currently looking into a program called Motivated Mom's which helps you keep on task and make sure you get all your goals accomplished each day. And by "looking into" I mean, I've had a tab open on the same browser window of the web page for like two weeks. But haven't really gotten around to doing anything with it...

I can stay busy, but getting all of my goals accomplished each day rarely seems to happen. Example: I will start cooking Leah's food for the next few days while she is down for a nap. In the middle of it, I'll notice the spice cabinet is a little messy. So I start cleaning and purging (please, at least one person out there say you know where I'm going with this) then all of a sudden I hear Leah chattering, it's three hours later, the house is a wreck and I have nothing for Brian and I for dinner. BUT the spice cabinet is clean! So suck on that!

Also it's just been a strange transition for Brian and I. I have been working since I was 15. So I've technically had a job longer than I haven't.  (been working for almost 19 years - I'm almost 34 - get it?)  So it's weird not to be earning anything, or not to be productive in a traditional sense - meaning the definition of being 'productive' has drastically changed and I don't know how to handle it. I think I also worry too much about what other people think about this role. Not just mine, but the SAHM label in general. Let me clarify a few things; I'm not hung up on the money part. Brian and I have had a joint account since day one. And there was a long period of time where I made more, and supported the household while Brian was in the transition of leaving his job and building his business. But I never thought of it as being the sole earner then. I would deposit my paycheck and it was like: here is this money for us. Yada Yada. And while raising a child and staying at home with them, has always been a dream and a goal for both of us. It's just a really big change and I'm still not even sure I can put my finger on what the big problem is exactly. 

I think in someways, Brian is struggling with the weight of being a sole provider on an unsteady income. He makes basically the same every month, but it is completely dependent upon his ability to keep the clients coming in. Anyone can see that is an assload of pressure. And so it seems that he technically works hard than me. Not to say that I don't work hard, or that I don't have tough days, but they are different. I have a lot more freedom, but I technically never get time off. I have not and will not ever speak for Brian, but my thoughts are that he struggling with the pressure and is a wee bit envious of my free time. Meanwhile I don't want the so called freedom to underrate what it is I do, just because there isn't a check for me to show that proves my worth. Did I tell you about the spice cabinet? Is anybody listening? Am I making a lick of sense? 
I have no idea...

Anyway, sorry for having been MIA. I have a lot of posts to finish and publish. I just need to sit down and get them done. Right after I figure out how to get all my other shit done.... Le Sigh. 

It's Not You, It's Me.

And just like in real life breakup's, that means it's actually you. 

Meaning Leah. 

Still with me? 

K. 

Every time I start to think about researching which formula to start her on, I feel like I'm breaking up with her. I get this heaviness in my chest reminiscent of my late-teen dating era. And then I suddenly remember what having my nipple slammed in a drawer feels like. Except the drawer has two teeny tiny razor sharp baby teeth and a cute hiney. But still, I go back and forth. The day that I published my last post was the day after a really bad nursing day. And then miraculously the day I posted it was almost perfect. Like old times. Wanna know what I did differently? Not a damn thing. Then yesterday was horrible again. Horrible. Bitten every single session. I swear by the skin left on my right nipple that I watched her every move. And there is no way I could have prevented any of them. otherwiseIfuckingwouldhave,right?!. Most were caused by distractions that I had no control over, nor did I see coming. The only sessions that seem to go smoothly are in the morning. Because she is half asleep and starving.

Last night I slept terribly. I was haunted by dreams of formula. There were apparently three cans of formula in Leah's closet, and I HAD to choose the right one. But I couldn't get in there because she was asleep. But I had to choose one already. But she was asleep. And then it was 5 am and I was wide awake.... 

Please understand my trepidation with Formula is not entirely about her health, or possible nutritional variances. I know she will be just fine with formula. This is not about milk. It's about nursing. I loved nursing her and I am grateful to have been able to do it at all. Because I personally know several women who weren't able to for various reasons - inadequate supply, severely inverted nipples, medication. Believe it or not, I have a friend who was on a walk with her husband and her two month old, and she was attacked by a raccoon. (around dusk) Then had to get a rabies shot, which meant no more nursing... Crazy right?  

Every time I think I have made peace with one direction or the other, something changes my mind. Nursing her first thing in the morning goes smoothly, and I think: Well maybe I can just nurse in the morning and pump the rest of the time. Then I think, damn pumping takes up a lot of time and I have no qualms with paying for convenience not to mention pain free nipples. And I have to be honest there are a few selfish reasons floating in the back of my head. One, I could eat dairy again. GOD I MISS DAIRY. Two, I could go back to my REAL bra's. Since Junior High I have bounced between a 34DD,and a 36F. So nursing bra's fundamentally lack the fortitude - if you will - to keep my girls up where they should be. I am really looking forward to getting them into my Le Mystere's and back into the correct Hemisphere. And for the record, breastfeeding didn't wreck them. Being a 34DD before the age of 16 did. Perky went buh-bye a LONG time ago. I digress. 

Then switching to formula means money I didn't count on spending (though we can afford it), and also? I'll start getting my period... I haven't had anything since postpartum. 

Anyhoo, I want to thank all of you for your wonderful comments. And especially the wonderful ladies over at PAIL for featuring my post and sending extra support my way. It was super validating to hear your stories, and to remind me that I have to let go of the guilt. HAVE TO. Really, your comments meant a lot, and I hope to get over to your blogs soon!

To Be Continued....

Headline: Lazy Whore Needs Meal Planning Tips

I love cooking. But while I was pregnant I was completely appalled by most foods with the exception of plain (I'm talking straight out of the colander - still draining in the sink) pasta and half gallon tubs of organic lemon yogurt. I lost my passion for food. By the time I got my appetite back I was too pregnant to cook anything exotic or time consuming. Then I had a newborn and used my spare time to shower and not smell/dress like a hobo. 

So now that things are becoming a little more routine with Leah, I want to start a menu plan. Cooking a few things on Sunday that can be rewarmed or thrown together on a different night during the week. Particularly for the days that I have to work. I've looked at a few 30 minute meal plans, but I'm just feeling uninspired. 

The other problem aside from being a lazy whore, is that I'm fat. And need to get my shit back into shape. I bought running shoes on an insomnia driven whim like 10 days ago (#ImmaAmazonJunkie) and have yet to so much as try them on. I bought new sports bras too. No more excuses! Actually I can think of several. 

I know that I need to lose weight. I have done it before and know the in's and outs of it well. I know that a better menu and more exercise will make all the difference, give me more energy to plan menu's and not groan every time I have to get up from picking up Leah off the floor, blah blah blah. If only it didn't require so much effort.

Any chance you'd be willing to share your tips with someone who is too lazy to construct of plan of her own? Recipes are welcome!

You're da Best! 

Unclenching

Holy Crap, where did May go?!


I’m not sure how things work in your house, but in G-Town USA, Momma carries the brunt of the domestic work load. Brian and I have lived this way since we got married. I love my domesticity. I live for my home life and there is truly no place else I’d rather be. This works out well for us, because Brian is the hardest working most driven, and passionate person I have ever met. He works 65+ hours a week outside the home, and I work 119 in it. But that doesn’t mean that Brian works less than me. His job is very demanding, and intense, and he gets an obscene amount of things done in a short period of time. You could say that his job is a sprint, and mine a marathon.

Where am I going with all this, you ask? Well, I’d like to lay out a little life lesson that smacked me upside the sinuses the week before last. I contracted my first cold since having Leah, and holy crow did it knock me on my ass.  (thanks again for sharing that with me dear!) I’ve always had allergies, so when I felt more congested than normal that last Thursday, I didn’t really question it. Until late Friday morning came and suddenly I was only congested on one side – that’s how I can tell, allergies are always both sides. By Friday afternoon my wheels were falling off and I was having trouble keeping up with a baby who can’t even crawl yet. And I was only able to dip my toe in the pity pool for a second when I realized that I had been hugging and kissing and breathing on Leah all day long (before I realized I was sick). And I started to panic. I couldn’t stand the idea of her getting sick, and it possibly being my fault. So Saturday morning when I woke up feeling like snot covered death, I knew I would have ask for help. Since Brian works every Saturday I called my Mother-in-law and asked her to hang out with Leah while I tried not to croak in my bedroom. Not easy for me, but I knew it was the best thing for Leah to not be around me, and for me to get some rest. 


Would you believe I was too sick to care about having to listen to my MIL hold and sing and baby-talk to Leah? Good, cause I wasn’t and it bugged the crap out of me every single second she was there. 
How about some points for keeping my mouth shut, cause I just let them do their thing and didn’t say a single word? Nope, cause she is great with Leah, and I’m an asshole for being annoyed to begin with.

But this isn’t about my Mother-in-law.  It’s about the dynamic between Brian and I. And the lesson I’m learning about letting go and letting Brian do his thing with Leah. It’s a really sketchy line between helping him understand her cues and not making him feel like a useless failure. I tend to prattle on from the other room about what every coo or cry means. And I don’t do this because I’m a know it all. (At least I don't think I am... I mean, I don’t try to be) I do it because I ache to care of her every second of every moment. I trust Brian implicitly, but the fact is I’m with her more. I know her better. And I know that her fussiness is a slippery slope. If you don’t catch it early enough she will crash and burn and take you down with her. That mostly applies to being tired, because she tends to get overtired very quickly and then it’s really hell getting her down for a nap or bed time. So how do I find a healthy balance between helping Brian understand and anticipate her needs, and not letting her suffer because he doesn't realize she's about to fall apart but I don't want to nag him?

Well I got a crash course in learning to let go this past weekend while I was sick. I didn't want to be around Leah more than I had to, and the times that I did I was wearing a surgical mask. (Is that nuts?) So I had to let Brian do the bulk of the work. It was SO hard to not be the one caring for her, especially when she was crying because it wasn’t what she was used to. And I know realistically, she was FINE. He wasn't forcing her to watch Moonshiners or holding her up by her ankles. It’s just horrible to listen to her crying, when I know it’s something I can fix right away. I’m happy to say however that he took the reins like a champ. I was so proud and grateful and impressed. But not one bit surprised. He's great with her, and the coolest part about it is, it's because he wanted to be. And sometimes the desire is more important than the know-how. I want to feel okay with her crying a little while she’s getting used to him caring for her, and putting her to bed. But a big part of me feels like it will be better for her if we wait until she isn’t so little to get her used to this. Ultimately I want him to be involved, and not because I need a break, but because I want her to feel as used to him as she is to me. I want him to know that bond. Where I struggle is being okay with her crying. We are not going to practice the Cry It Out method, so I’m having a hard time with where this transition falls. (not judging anyone on CIO, that’s just how I feel)

So I’m back to my semi-healthy self again, and back to running our daily and nightly routines. But the battle still continues. And I don’t mean that to sound like we fight constantly. I mean it’s a battle to constantly try to foresee her ever changing needs while cementing routines that work for her and us, and adapting to how that changes the dynamics in our marriage. It’s just as hard as I heard it would be, so maybe this is why I am desperately trying to control what few things I still have a handle on? Does that make sense?


Stay Tuned.

What Has Two Thumbs

And tested positive for two A1298C mutations, indicating MTHFR?

Alright, we all know how that one ends...

So, craaaaaap. I guess with my OPCOS diagnosis and now this I can officially say we are a train wreck Male and Female factor IF. I know this isn't the worst possible senario, but having gone two and a half years and six dIUI's believing that we only had the male factor issue, well, it sort of makes me want to crack some skulls.

MTHFR is not something that my old RE would have ever tested for. Because it falls under immunological disorders. And my old clinic didn't believe in immunological factors... Some RE's do, some don't. And it's not being partial to CSI: Las Vegas over Miami, it's like different religions.

I thought science was a little more... black and white.

How does one not believe in a gene mutation?

I don't understand.

And more than that, I don't quite understand what this means for me.

And my likelihood of a successful pregnancy.

I'm scared.

I probably sound like a complete moron, and believe me, I know enough to know that I can't even begin to comprehend the complexities behind this issue. I just wish that I didn't feel so caught in the middle...

An MTHFR success story might be nice to hear right about now.

I've started reading up on it, but I don't really know what to consider a legitimate source. Any recommendations?