Thursday, January 16, 2014

I was told this wouldn't hurt a bit

I have 5 kids. I have had 5 whole humans shoot out of me like tiny little rockets out into space, creating their own orbit around the sun. Or I am orbiting around them. Yeah, it's definitely the second. The pregnancy with Sunshine was physically draining this time around. I was no longer in my early 20's and I'd already had 4 kids to run after. I had so much pain , I cried, Nay begged for my husband to have a vasectomy. I was convinced I could not survive doing this again, especially since she was umm....errr.. a pleasant surprise, I didn't want to chance it. By many peoples measure we were beyond blessed, 4 healthy kids and a home and many trappings of the upper middle class ( DAMN IT! It was my last fucking kid I was going out with a BANG! You bet your sweet ass I bought that fucking Bugaboo.) This was the stopping point, the place where we close this chapter of our lives for good. I got what I desperately wanted, another baby girl.  
Then the BIG day came and I lost my shit.
I have yet to regain it.
I'm not sure if I ever will.
After 5 days spent in a hospital , nearly bleeding to death, a 9 pound hypoglycemic baby, and a blood transfusion we were exhausted. Physically and mentally drained. Therefore we never should have gone into that consultation room at all. We were in no condition to make that kind of LIFE ALTERING decision. It was exactly 1 week after we had her and exactly a week later they set the appointment to do the deed. As the days wound down we began to realize what a treasure Sunshine was. She was LITTERALLY sleeping through the night by 2 weeks... WHAT BABY DOES THAT!?!?! She was so fucking pretty I cried nearly every time I saw her. She only cried when she was hungry. To sum it up she was perfect to me in every way. I couldn't get enough of her, I became quite obsessed with Sunshine. I started making noises that I rescinded my initial pleas of a vasectomy. That I wanted just one more chance to do it again, just one last, last time. He knew my discontentment and met it with a stern " Remember when you were pregnant? You said you'd act this way and to not listen to you because you would be hormonal and incapable of making this choice."
Damn, bested by past Krista AGAIN!
Then the day before the procedure we picked up a Valium, support undies and pain meds. I tried the 'ole " If you need a Valium then it's a sign you're doing the wrong thing!" Nope, no cigar. As the day wound down I was numbing my self to the fact he was really going to do it. He had his concerns and instead of trying to quell his fears I was playing into them hoping to God he would cancel the next morning. Hoping he would see how much this would mean to me.
The next day I got up with him and got ready with the largest pit in my stomach. I drove him into the office since he was doped up ( and hopefully pliable.) I dropped him at the front so I could park and met him in the lobby after he signed in. My chances were slimming but damn it there was still fucking time. Then they called his name and he went back, when he turned away from me one silent tear escaped, my fa├žade was beginning to crack. Sitting there all I saw were old people on deaths doorstep. Once we were no longer young and fertile this was next. It was a grim crowd and it just compounded my feelings of grief. Grief, yeah, that's exactly what I felt.. The clock ticked on and I busied myself with Facebook, silently begging for him to run through those doors and tell me he couldn't go through with it. He didn't and when he returned he looked like he was on the verge of being in pain. A terrible, horrible , rotten part of me took pleasure in that. That he deserved to be in pain for not giving in to my whims. It was then I couldn't hold back the dam and started quietly weeping as I walked him to the car. He was too high to really see the pain I was in and offered a dopey "I'm sorry."
I knew I had a hard day ahead of me and needed to keep it together from there on out. I had 5 kids I had to care for and would be going it alone for the next few day. I sucked it up and took the man to our favorite Italian bakery so we could take some comfort in food and some time not caring for the kids. I got him settled in and the kids came home, I ordered dinner and got them dressed for bed. After David had gone up to out bed and I sat in a quiet living room , I let out a guttural cry. The kind that only comes once you experience a great pain. I let it come from the very depths of my being. I sobbed, and sobbed, then when I thought I was done I sobbed some more.
It was my grief that had come to the surface and finally bubbled over. I could no longer pretend I was holding up.  Most people think grief comes from death or a more tangible thing. It doesn't, at least not for me, and it took a therapist to put that word to my EXTREME emotions. It can come from any huge loss. I lost so much with those two snips. I essentially lost me, my identity, and in my mind my fertility, everything I had built my vision of self on was gone. I have been a mother well before I was an adult, it's all I have every really done of merit and even that is subjective. I lost ever holding another positive pregnancy test, ever seeing a shitty black and white version of the human I was building and the subsequent heart beat. I lost ever feeling those tiny kicks , labor pains and the rush of euphoria once you hold the one that is most precious to you in that moment. Once Sunshine stops nursing I will never again nourish another from my body. No more tiny toes and tiny hands. No more inhaling a babe fresh from the bath, warming them up and holding their fresh bodies in your tight arms. Never again will I have first tooth and first steps. As time marches on it steals all that I hold dear. The amount of pain I still feel from this knowledge is crushing. There are days I don't even want to get out of bed. I don't know where my life is going anymore nor do I know what to expect. I feel like I am in a total free fall and I forgot how to use the parachute because I wasn't paying attention. I died that day. I still am a mother, but I am in the process of transiting away from this. I know I still have 17.5 more years but once she starts school my day job is over. I look at her and I see a clock counting down the time till she is gone for the day. I see the light at the end of the tunnel and I am not sure what's there and I am more than terrified. I just don't have a fucking clue what I want to do with the next 50 years.  Excuse the fact this last paragraph is really fucking ramble-y and incoherent, just imagine me behind the screen stopping to periodically bawl my ocular cavities out.
I have shared all of these things with my husband, frankly I just can't let it go and move on. I really look forward to that day I am tired of feeling this way. He had his reasons for going through with it: wanting to move on with our lives, freedom sooner, no more crying poop factory taking up our time together, money and wanting to maintain a certain life style, wanting to see me achieve my education goals and just being terrified that my next delivery I won't come back from. I get it, I really do. I have my own theory's on why I could want another, and no one has ruled out insanity just yet ( it's only a matter of time lol.) I am still young, fertile and have so much life and love left to give. It makes me feel old, really fucking old, especially since my mom was in her 40's shooting them out. We can still have kids if he ever decides he wants more. We have a 5 year window for a reversal and then in vitro is an option as well. I hope one day he comes around and grants my wish, but I doubt it. Tonight as I sat at the kitchen table I held Sunshine in front of me, I soaked her in. Then I looked up at the rest singing and dancing while they ate their ice-cream and I felt a twinge. It was so beautiful and so completely satisfying yet inherently sad. Sad that I will forget the exact moment that brought me such joy on a sad day. Sad that I will forget the weight and soft skin of my new daughter. The exact tinkling of the others laughter will escape me in the future and I will have lost it forever. Then I got it. This is where life is. In the moment, just loving the wonderful things I have here and now. I am starting to really fucking get it, now if 30 could just stop sounding geriatric I would be good.
 So I am here just picking up the pieces of me that broke that day. With loss there is opportunity is a fact I have come to learn recently. Well unless your dead that is. Lost "friends"? It just made room for better, truer ones. Lost my ability to have kids with my husband? I get to spread my wings and learn to fly now. It isn't all bleak, just sometimes. My future is unknown and an open book, and I am it's author.

Monday, August 6, 2012

What Have I Been Up To?

Whoa!!! Where have I been and more importantly what have I been up to? Lets start off with.. THE KIDS HAVE BEEN HOME ALL SUMMER!!!! AHHH!!!! I have been incredibly busy with doctors appointments, vacations , friends and visiting siblings. So busy that I can't believe that the kids start school in exactly 2 weeks. Here are some photos of our summer so far.

Strawberry picking in May.
 What's this?
 Let's get this family photo done so we can get out of here.
 We love when Grandpa comes to visit.
 Shrimp and Cheesy grits , perfect summer meal.
 Last day of school!

 The kids last time playing with our neighbors who moved.
 Loves his Cozy Coupe.
 Pool Party
 Doodle loves this kid.
 Picky's Birthday party.
 Brave Heart
 How long have we been friends?

 Yogurt finger paint.

 Aquarium with Gogo.
Looking at the estuary with Uncle Chris. 
 Giving Gogo permission to kiss him. 
 Like a boss.
 Doodle and Aunt Toria

 I have a picture of Doodle making the same face 5 years ago.

 They rode around the resort this way.
 I love raising my crazy boys, they make it fun. (Most of the time.)
 So over her brothers.
 Side walk chalk ice-cream?

 So fabulous.

Throw in lots of movies, naps and theme park trips you have our summer. How have you held up so far?

Thursday, May 17, 2012

Breast is Best

               Breast is best.. but for how long? I am a lactivist, a lover of boobie babies and long term nurser. I have been nursing baby for almost 20 months now with no sign of stopping. At least for him, I however have been feeling the pressures of the proverbial "Societal Norms". Three out of four moms leave the hospital breastfeeding, but by 6 months it is down to 43%  only 1/4th of babies make it to their first birthday*. Almost none make it as long as I have, so I am feeling pressures from my family and society as a whole to end my nursing journey. But I DON'T WANNA! Thankfully most of my friends a avid (some rabid :P) nursers, but even they ended around the 12-18 month mark. I feel the need to hide my nursing , no in a sick way like I am doing something wrong, I just don't want to be judged for having a 22lb toddler hanging from my boob in the middle of Target ( I am sure no one would look twice in walmart.) I love the fact that when Baby wakes up in the morning he says and signs "Mama, Boobie,Milk, Please" and the way he looks at me with his bright blue eyes. Or when he is ready for sleep and all he wants for comfort is my tender, loving bosom.

Okay, to be fair to myself.. he is kind of getting weird about the way he treats my boobs, and it is starting to make me a tinsy bit uncomfortable. A list of weird things he does to my tits that make me a little skeeved out:

  1. He slaps my cleavage when he wants to be fed. Sometimes it's in public.
  2. Sometimes he motorboats my ta-tas in public .
  3. When he dose the aforementioned things he also says loudly (and unfortunately clearly) "BOOOBIEEESS"
  4. He likes to play with the unused nipple by digging in my bra while nursing.
  5. He started shaking his head "NO" while attached. 
  6. He recently discovered Hot Wheels. He now uses my cleavage as hilly terrain for his "cahs".

So it is getting more than a little weird for me, but I don't think either one of us is in an emotional place to give it up. Nursing is my most favorite parts of child bearing/rearing hands down. Not to mention all of the benefits. The bond I forge with my child during this time is precious to me, and Baby is a handful. So nursing him is one of the only times during our day we aren't butting heads.

With Picky all I wanted to do was nurse him, but with a lack of support at home and being 17 in a tumultuous home environment , it was nearly impossible. I couldn't get him to latch on , so I pumped. For 6 weeks until I couldn't do it anymore ( I was put on medicine to battle my crippling post partum psychosis)
When I was pregnant with Princess I made a vow to myself to nurse as long as I could and by setting 3 month increments I made it to 14 months, where she weaned herself. Same thing with Doodle, he made it almost to 17 months before weaning himself. Now where we are, at a stalemate with baby. I am hoping he will decide to give up one day so I don't have it on my conscience. Yeah, I know that sounds horrible, but I love nursing so much I haven't had the heart to say no the 5x we have tried to wean him. So wish me luck,if Baby has his way he will be the longest breastfed human of all time, and will still be nursing on his wedding day (after that he is his wife's problem). 


Friday, May 11, 2012

DIY: Solar Light Jar

Ok don't get to excited, this is not a tutorial on how to make a solar powered light diode, nor is it an original idea. I am not that smart or talented. I saw a picture on Pinterest but could not find the original source, so I kind of made it up. I think the results were pretty nice, but the light I picked up was one of those blusish ones, I prefer the softer more yellow lights. So here we go... my light in a jar tutorial.

First you need to get :
A jar (must have a clear lid)
Rustolium Frosted Glass spray paint
A cheap solar powered light ( I found mine in the garden section of Target)
Hot glue or super glue

Make sure your jar is clean and dry. Mine was an old change jar that once housed peppermints from my husbands bachelor days. It still had a dirty man whore feel to it, so of course I had to spruce it up.

Then you spray paint the jar. I sprayed the inside, because if you did it on the outside you would risk chipping the paint. I would also tell you to put it on a piece of cardboard before you spray. Or else risk getting grass clippings in the wet paint. (I've done this with other projects and its a huge pain in the ass to fix) Also remember to do this in a well ventilated area. Unless you want to get high on paint fumes, if so have at it.

After the jar is dry ( I waited 24 hours) take your light fixture and remove the solar powered do-dad from the top. Adhere with glue. Be careful not to get the glue on the solar panel.

Let that dry.

Then turn it on, stick it in a sunny spot and wait till dark to enjoy!

Wednesday, May 9, 2012

In Stitches

What a day it has been! It started out pretty awesome, I got to drive our new electric car to drop the kids off at school , David was making me breakfast, and I was going to make it to the gym in time to make my 2 favorite classes! I was on top of it this morning, that is until I walked in the front door expecting fantasmo homemade cinnamon honey oatmeal and instead am bum rushed by David (who looked whiter then his usual pasty self).

" Hey! I don't want you to freak out... but Doodle had an accident."

"Umm.. ok...?" (what the fuck!?!?! )

" He fell...."


"Down the stairs."

"Ok..." (Really? Again? Oh God his arm or leg is broken and now there is bone poking through his skin and blood ... man this kitchen floor needs to be mopped this morning. What hasn't David told me yet?)

" He is okay, but he needs to go to the hospital. Don't get upset and scream, I finally got him calmed down."

"Okay...." I go down the hall and enter the kitchen, where I see my beautiful baby boy with a fucking HOLE in his beautiful , once unmarred skull.

" Hey buddy are you O.K?"

He shook his head, okay, there isn't any brain matter (that I can see.) Breathe! I tried to stay calm, because freaking out is going to freak him out and if he freaks out his blood pressure will go up , therefore making the open wound in his head gush instead of drip blood. HOLY FUCK it looks gross! I guess moping is out of the question this morning.

"I can't look at this David. We need to cover it or I am going to pass out."

"Find a gauze."

I find one and have David apply it , I avoid looking at it. I start getting ready to go, I grab the necessary cards and my purse.

"I'm going to get the baby up and go with you, so one of us can hold the bandage on him while the other drives."

"Thats fine. Doodle what do you want to bring to the doctors? "

"Lovie and my pink Barbie."

I go upstairs and search for this weird yellow crusty, half bear half blanket my grannny bought for him when he was born. I look everywhere in the room and can't find the damn thing. UGH! Seriously?? One of the things my wounded baby wants is missing! What kind of mother am I? I grab his frog stuffed animal and the  pink Barbie and rush down to help him put on his shoes. I tell him to stand by the door, and I go to the kitchen and down a glass of wine, I need some liquid courage. Then I hear the door open and look down the hall just in time to see Doodle get hit in the head by the door!  I am now convinced he is going to die by the end of this day.

We get in the car and David drops me off by the front door, I tell him to find a sitter for Dex.

"Try C and if we can't get C call T. Her cell number is in my cell, which is in the other car."

"Got it. Good Luck buddy, the doctors are going to take care of you. I will be back soon to help you."

I go the the desk and check Doodle in. On the paperwork they ask me "Reason for visit: Hole in my sons head."  I sit down next to him in a chair , but I have to turn away so he can't see the silent tears running down my face. I am so worried, I don't think it is a life threatening thing, but I am worried about a head trauma. (Yes, I have been told by friends and family to STOP watching Grey's Anatomy) I am a mom, and anytime my kids are hurt, I hurt, because there are somethings I can't fix or take away from them. I am also crying because I am glad that it wasn't worse. When he fell he hit his forehead on the pin part of the hinge from the front door.

So while it poked a hole in his skin, it missed his eye, which it would have gone though had it been 3 inches down. 

They take us back to a room, where he lays in bed for an hour watching cartoons. They come in and out checking on him, the Doctor tells me hit is nasty but he will need 2 stitches. He leaves and the wine on my empty stomach combined with the thought of them piercing my sons flesh with a needle is enough to send me to the bathroom to hurl. AWESOME! I smell like booze/barf and my son is in here for an accident. God I hope they can't smell me otherwise they will call CPS ! Thankfully they waited until David got back to the hospital to start sewing him up. He was so good the entire wait. He even let them wrap him like a burrito so his hands wouldn't be free to grab them. I consider leaving the room, but I can't .. I have a morbid curiosity, what can I say? They numbed him up and he squirmed with discomfort but he didn't yell or scream (which I am thankful and surprised with.) It's done in no time, they give us our discharge information and we are on our way. We ask him what he wants for a special lunch, he says "SUSHI! and Cake." We oblige. I ended up crying in the restaurant, thinking " This wasn't that serious, but who knows what the future holds?How am I supposed to let four humans go into the world?" Ugh Elizabeth Stone said it best "Making the decision to have a child is momentous. It is to decide forever to have your heart go walking around outside your body." I am not holding out hope that it is going to get easier. 

* Thanks so much T for watching Baby. You were a life saver. It means so much to me that you were there for us today. 

Tuesday, May 8, 2012

Stove Top Chicken and Dumplings

I love Chicken and Dumplings so I am trying out different ways to make it, this was one that I tried last week. The recipe made a huge batch, like maybe 8-10 servings huge. My kids hated this because I added carrots, so after I picked them out they were digging it. I kind of winged it and made this one up myself, if it sucks when you try it , I am sorry.

1 package of frozen ready made dumplings
3 boxes of chicken stock
1 1/2 lbs boneless, skinless chicken pieces
1 bag of baby carrots 

Take one and a half boxes of chicken stock and boil chicken 15 minutes or until cooked through. 

Once cooked set the chicken on a plate to rest a few minutes then shred. I used my stand mixer with the regular paddle (? maybe? is there a "normal" attachment?)
A  friend told me of this trick. It is a HUGE time saver. I feel like I owe her a massage by a hunk of her choosing for this tip. 

In a separate pot boil carrots in remaining stock. Add salt, pepper and oregano to taste.

Once stock is boiling add the package of noodles one at a time. I broke them in half and constantly stirred so they would not clump and stick together. 

Reboil for 30-35 minutes 

Add Chicken and cook for another 5-10 minutes. 



Monday, May 7, 2012

Fuck You Friday

(Audible sigh)

Seriously fuck Friday (May the with you hehe)
Sometimes day start off as shit...and the shit keeps rolling, until you are just praying that you make it through the day without killing someone.

Okay, so my day wasn't that bad, I mean my family is still happy , healthy and wealthy and that's what matters.
Right? It was still a sigh worthy day, one that left David and I just wanting to crawl into bed at 9:30pm.

As most of you know, I am a lover of sleep. I am one of THOSE  moms. I don't do cheerful wake ups with a hot breakfast waiting on the table. I wish to God I was for my children's sake, but I'm not. I am more of a wake up 20 minutes before the bus comes, check over their lunches ( otherwise I will get ANOTHER note home telling me my son packed half a bagel, a fist full of cereal and a juice box.) do a run down of the chores they were supposed to fulfill and run them to the bus stop 2  min before it arrives. I've been at this 9 years and frankly I'm worn out. So I like to rest when I can.

Yesterday the kids woke up an extra 45 minutes early. That means an additional 30 minutes of time to fuck stuff up. Which is such a pain in the ass when you are tying to keep a narcissistic, cantankerous toddler asleep as long as humanly possible (or 9am , whichever comes first). This is how our morning went:

6:50 am- Princess and Picky by my bedside: "MOM!" "Mommy!"
Princess hands me Picky's piggy bank
"Open this, please."


Picky " We need $2."

" I have your lunch money in Dad's wallet."

Picky "But Princess wants to buy a squinky from N ( neighbor kid from Princess' class) for $2! It's a great deal Mom! It's a very rare Power Ranger one!"

"WHAAATTT?!?! Hell no! you are not paying $2 for a toy you can get for $.25 in a vending machine, and even that is a rip off because it costs a small Cambodian child -$.05 to make it.! What time is it anyways?"
Look at cell phone...
"CHRIST!! Its not even 7 am! What are you doing up so early?"

Princess " You put us to bed early... remember?"

Last time I do that! " Go to Princess' room and play until its 7:45"

Nestle back into my pillow nest ( I need at least 6 pillows to sleep)


Damn it, now what? "WHAT?"

"Doodle went into the babies room and got a toy!"


"He went into the babies room to get a toy."

"Where is he now."
From around the corner I see his shit eating grin from my nest.

"See. I gota matching toy." ( a musical necklace from McDonalds, with another one with the little mermaid on it)

"OH MY GOD! Doodle! You aren't even supposed to leave your room until AFTER the bog kids get on the bus!"

Princess " He went in Babies room and even turned the light on!"

With that I hear a faint "eeewaaaahhhhh" from down the hall.

"DAMN IT! Go back to your room and stay there until I get you out."

I go get Baby and put him in bed to nurse him , hopefully he will want to go back to sleep after this.

Nope. Fat chance, even though he is up an hour and a half early. He throws himself about the bed screaching "Momma, MOMMA! MEEEEAAAAAHHH"

I go downstairs and find David in the kitchen where is is assessing the damage.
" I am glad you didn't see this 5 minutes ago. "

"How could this have looked any worse?"

The kids apparently ate a crack cupcake and went APE SHIT! There were cereal boxes (yes plural, like one box wasn't good enough.and they thought 4 was the magic number.) all over the table and counter. cereal pieces all over the table and counter and ground into the rug, someone dumped a box of sandwich bags out in the pantry, there were condiments strewn over the counter tops.   With all the carnage and mayhem I was witnessing, David tells me it was worse??

I sit baby down in his highchair with a sippy of orange juice and some food while I help David clean up. Apparently he didn't like the sippy so he took off the lid and dumped it all over himself. Then he took the food I so lovingly prepared for him ( in the toaster) and dumps it all over the floor.
Thankfully it was FINALLY time to get the kids on the bus, so I ran the kids to the stop while David cleaned the mess. The baby was cranky all day and Doodle was a pill, so nap time came early. The day had more bumps than a teenage boy who only eats pizza, but we got through it. Going to bed at 9:30 pm on a Friday night didn't hurt either.

(If this is poorly edited and a bit rambly forgive me, I am fighting a nasty stress headache.)