June 27, 2013

home is where your stuff is

That's what an old friend of ours used to say. And it's true, isn't it? Yes, I can be anywhere with my family and be at home, but I'd rather be at home with my family. Ha!

The hotel stay has been okay - not nightmarish, just not home. But the good news is that the contractor is working at lightning speed and we'll be able to go home tomorrow instead of Sunday. Two days early! Yippee!

This morning, the boy woke us up with a loud "HEY!" It was 5:45. For the love. He's been having a blast, happily exploring every crevasse of the hotel room. We've made use of the pool, too - not because we don't have one at home, but because this one is indoors so it's less of a hassle. I don't have to worry about dousing him in sunscreen, which is nice since he was born with that super fair skin that comes with red hair and a Viking lineage.

I stopped at home this morning to grab something and water the plants, and I have to admit that the new floor (even though the old one was less than two years old) looks even better. I glanced at the bedroom, and thought "Good grief - didn't we even bother to make the bed? What slobs..." I otherwise ignored the tornado disaster that it looks like now. They haven't replaced the carpet yet - I guess that happens today.

I know that a massive mess waits for us, but I don't care. It's one day at a time, one dusty surface at a time. This has been a decent experience, and a learning one, and I'll be really glad to get home.

June 24, 2013

moving out for a week sucks

A month or so ago, our water heater went out in spectacular fashion. Today, we checked into a hotel for six nights while the contractor replaces all of the flooring except the kitchen and bathrooms.

If you've ever moved, you know it sucks.

If you've ever moved out temporarily, you know it sucks all the more because you'll have to move back in to put your enormous amount of crap back into the same cramped little space and live with it some more.

For someone who's getting most of this paid for by insurance, you'd think I would be giddy with gratitude. Don't get me wrong - I'm definitely grateful. We'd never be able to shuck out the bucks for this otherwise (well, we wouldn't want to anyway). But holy crap, this has been hard.

We've been living in this condo for 10 full years. That's plenty of time to accumulate stuff no matter who you are. Insert a new family member, and suddenly you get clever and creative about repurposing or storing the things you really don't want to part with until you forget just how much you have.

Until the day you have to make the space ready for carpet replacement.

We gotta move. BAD.

Over the weekend, we boxed up stuff from bookshelves, end tables, and other surfaces so the workers can just shuffle them around. Then we had to pack up our own clothes and whatnot for a week's vacation. Only it's not a vacation.

By the end of today, I was drop-dead exhausted. The boy has been on pretty good behavior, thankfully, and was tired enough to go down at 6:30. I can only hope he sleeps well, as the hotel could only supply us with a pack and play - which would be fine if he weren't the size of your average two-year-old. So I rented a crib online and it'll get here tomorrow. Oh well. You gotta do what you gotta do.

When it's all over, the place will look really nice and it will take us one step closer to finally, FINALLY  putting the place on the market this fall (more on that later). So the effort is definitely worth it. Could they not have scheduled it the week of my cycle though? That would have been nice, but they didn't consult me.

My dear husband got takeout for us tonight, which we ate after the boy ate his "dinner" - cheese, crunchies, mandarin oranges, and milk (he wasn't interested in the pouch or it might have been a complete meal). Once all that was done, I realized something. We have a tub. A big, wonderful tub just waiting to be filled with hot water for soaking my tired old ass. And so I did. And it was fabulous.

I love soaking my head, and our water heater  at home craps out before I can fill the tub so I don't bother. I haven't had a tub soak since early December, which is a crying shame because it's one of the few truly relaxing activities that I love dearly. I used to head to the local hot springs for a good soak, but that was years ago, before the pregnancies, and I haven't made the journey since. I think they require bathing suits now because somebody violated the no-romancing rule, so it's a bit less appealing. I prefer to soak without such encumbrances.

I will not let tonight be the last night I soak in this hotel tub. It is one more big thing to be grateful for.

June 21, 2013

random thoughts: making dinner

Isn't there a recipe for throwing protein and veggies into a blender, tossing it with some cheese, and baking it in a casserole dish?

I swear that's all I want. I swear that's all my son will eat. I swear I will not raise him on cheesy toast and sweet potato fries if it kills me - and it probably will because I'll be too tired to do anything else.

new (to me) ministry: parenting after infertility

Okay, so I've just told you all that I'm procrastinating against a small mountain of work. Still true. When that happens, I'm usually randomly searching for who-knows-what on the Internet - trolling blogs, searching for new ones, getting caught up on Consumer Reports - anything to re-shuffle my brain until I'm ready to work again.

Anyway, I came across this website and I can't believe I've never heard of it. Then again, how does one hear of these sorts of things when infertility is usually a social taboo? And once you become a mom, it's all roses and rainbows and happily ever after, right?

If, like me, you've walked through the very dark valley of infertility (or still do) and are now a parent, you might want to check this out. Parenting after Infertility & Loss. They have a blog too.

Why would there be a ministry for moms like us? Oh, I can think of a few reasons. The odd combination of bliss + guilt + remembered pain, for starters. The agonizing decision of whether to try again or decide that you've been dealt the best hand you're gonna get and leave the poker table, for another.

Okay, I guess I'm ready to work some more. Happy Friday!

Sorry, was that a little abrupt? Almost like there's a bit more bubbling below the surface than normal motherhood angst and it's getting pushed down. ;)

random thoughts: procrastination maven

The more work I have to do, the less likely I am to do it. Friday afternoon has its sunny, lazy grip on my brain.

June 19, 2013

our anniversary and my reality check

This past weekend, my husband and I spent a day and two nights in Manitou Springs, Colorado. We stayed in an old, fully restored hotel and had a junior suite. The Cliff House is beautiful, and I definitely recommend it! My mom, God bless her, took care of the boy so we could celebrate our 12th anniversary.

We decided to do something neither of us has done: drive to the top of Pikes Peak, one of many fourteeners in Colorado (a fourteener is a mountain taller than 14,000 feet).

It was a beautiful day and a beautiful drive, and I was driving. Once we got above treeline, however, my perception started to change. It looked like we were driving alongside a cliff of rocks on one side and complete oblivion on the other, with nothing to keep us from driving off the cliff to our deaths. Observe (sorry about the clunky format, and notice the port-a-potties strategically located just in case you're about to wet your pants haha!):

It’s hard to get across what it looked like, but it doesn't matter. What happened was that I had a major panic attack. Palms sweated, heart raced, hands shook, and I wanted to cry. I pulled over. We tried to go on with my husband driving, but I couldn't shake the feeling no matter how much I used logic to try and convince myself it was no big deal. We had to turn around, with my tail tucked in. I already know that when the boy is old enough, we’ll try it again – even if I have to sit in the back seat blindfolded haha!

But the whole thing threw me off kilter. I thought I was over the acrophobia thing, based on my experience of being delivered from fear. Apparently not. Now I need to get back on the hobby horse and try again. In a few years. When I'm not driving. If I can wait that long.

Other than that, we had a great time just being and enjoying our married selves. But we missed the boy quite a bit - happy hour was spent scrolling through the past year's photos of him while enjoying a beer before dinner. It's all good.

June 12, 2013

my post pregnancy body 16 months later

Okay, this post is not about squeamish things. It's just about... physicality. I guess. Or rather, part analysis and part reality check.

I knew it would happen. They all say it will happen. But then when it happened, I thought maybe something was weird in my head.

It has happened. My body is not the same as the one that conceived my son.

I've seen pictures of women before and after who's very skeletal structure had changed - even in their faces (T.ori A.mo.s?)- and I was not exactly looking forward to that. Now it's mostly a non-issue because I couldn't be more grateful for my son and I'm completely aware that it's not about me. But still, I have my pride. But why? Why do I have my pride? What price vanity? Do I have to wear mom jeans now? (please God, no...)

Okay, so here's what's weird. I'm almost the same size I was before I got pregnant the first time. Then there was the first loss, and the second loss, and that space of time before my son came along. And now? Uhh... the curves aren't quite in the same place. My waist is a bit thicker. The same clothing size just doesn't look the same.

About two months after the boy was born, I went to a physical therapist to address my nether regions. I felt like the muscles were sagging so much that they would fall out. That, my friends, is a weeeeeird feeling. She made it all better. Recently, I've gone back to the therapist to address my left hip, which is apparently tilted forward a bit (or is it backward? I can't remember). That's taking longer. And I do yoga, dang it! I should be in good shape, whatever that means.

Confession: I was a lifetime member of Weight Watchers before my pregnancies. Now? I find it hard to give a damn. But I am trying to give a damn, I really am. Just not as much of a damn as I should if I want to get back to fighting weight (which, at my 5 foot 9.5 inch frame would be around 160-165).

I want to get into my size 12 wardrobe. Then again, I'm not sure it's worth the effort. But then, I should consider it worthy because I don't want to spend my 40+ years getting fatter and sicker by the decade. I need to be here for my family. Health is seriously important. So is chocolate and wine and beer and ice cream.

I'm finding it especially hard to feel sexy these days - a feeling that comes in handy when you're married and want to at least keep the coals warm.

You see my dilemma?! Watching myself change physically is not so easy.

If any of you moms have advice in this area, please butt in.

June 4, 2013

what is it this time? oh, that's right - nothing

The boy is quickly becoming a crankypants hot mess on a regular basis (a.k.a Toddler) - I have already lost count of the tantrums that last anywhere from 10 seconds to 10 minutes (and, believe me, 10 minutes is a LOOOOONG time to endure one). When I'm at my wits end (is that wit's or wits'? I forget how many I have - I might be down to my last wit), though, I take a look at the blog Reasons My Son is Crying and I remember - my son doesn't need a reason to cry. He just needs to get it out of his system as he asserts his independence, or weeps for the lack of it.

This apparently takes several years.

I guess all I can do (besides fix that Manhattan the minute he goes to bed) is buckle up and remember that this roller coaster goes downhill a helluva lot faster than it goes uphill. Mercy.