burnt toast life

the happiest morning

I’ll be honest – the inspiration for this post came from a Scary Mommy article about being happy.

And I’m realizing now how often I reference that site, when the truth is I don’t even like it that much, but Facebook seems to think I do so the posts are constantly in my news feed. I click on articles (from boredom), which further proves Facebook correct, and so the vicious cycle continues when in fact I would gladly click on other things if they were to show up in my feed. Which is why I (along with most people I talk to) kind of mostly hate Facebook and their stupid algorithms.

But I digress.

Similarly to how every month during Molly’s first year felt like, “the best month ever,” I feel like I’ve hit a high point of happiness lately. That’s why I rarely post anymore. Who the hell wants to hear about happy stuff all the time? My sad posts have triple as many readers and comments as my happy ones. Every post this year has fewer page views than the one before it. It’s like this blog is dwindling down to nothing, and it sucks, because I like this blog a lot.

Anyway, I’ve been thinking a lot about happiness lately. Remember those themed posts I mentioned last time? You might be seeing those as contributor posts on other blogs in addition to here. I’ve been going back and forth on whether or not I should start a new blog, actually, but I’m very nervous to leave this space and the loyal followers I’ve acquired. I like it here… I just need to figure out what this blog is going to be now. I want it to be more than sporadic monthly updates with a bunch of photos thrown in at the end. I’d like it to be something with a little more depth. But what that is, I’m not exactly sure.

Anyway, the full discussion about happiness can wait, but I wanted to share a little story in the meantime.

Two nights ago, we transitioned Molly to a toddler bed (her crib converted to a daybed) and moved Liam into her room (now their room). Prior to this, he had been sleeping next to my bed in the RNP. It was easier that way because he’s still waking up once or twice a night to eat, despite the fact that I’m giving him 6 ounce bottles every couple hours in addition to solid foods, which we started a few weeks ago (he’s not a fan of carrots, but he does love those prunes). But from all that eating he’s getting way too big for the RNP. It was time for a change.

As expected, Molly was overjoyed to have the baby sleeping in a crib next to her. She seemed unimpressed by the whole big girl bed thing, despite my attempts to hype it up. It was really cute though when we had the front part of her crib taken off and she came running into the room, gasped dramatically, and said, “Oh no, Mommy! The night night is broken!”

That first night could not have gone better… at least at first. I laid them both down, they smiled at me sweetly and “posed” for a photo, and within ten minutes they were both fast asleep. I thought to myself, “Seriously? Am I really this lucky?”

nursery

But this is real life, so yeah, that didn’t last long. Liam is getting over a cold he caught from Molly and thanks to post nasal drip, he has developed a persistent little cough along with his stuffy nose. He woke himself up coughing a couple hours after I laid him down, and since he was still congested, I brought him back into our room to sleep in the RNP so he could be elevated and breathe more easily.

Last night was a little trickier. I put Molly to bed at her normal time (8PM) and even though he was fussy, I put Liam down also. In no time at all they were both screaming. Awesome. So I went and retrieved Liam to put him in his swing in the living room. Molly was still whining but I figured she might just need a few minutes to adjust. Eric and I settled in to catch up on Game of Thrones. Liam was zonked out in the swing almost instantly.

A few minutes went by.

Then, we heard the pitter patter of little running feet. Guess who figured out how to get out of her new, bar-free bed? She came running down the hall elated, holding her iPhone aloft while proudly declaring, “Mommy, I did it!”

Did what? Escaped the bed? Unplugged the iPhone from the charger? All of the above? It was all so unclear.

I put her back to bed but she started screaming. Resigned, and wanting to see the crazy scene from GOT everyone was jabbering about Monday, I let her come hang out with us on the couch for a bit. After a few stolen bites of Chex Mix, some couch jumping, and apple juice, she decided Jon Snow was super boring and started demanding Peppa Pig.

Uh… no.

So I put her back to bed again and this time she screamed and cried. I’d love to be able to ignore that, but I just can’t enjoy myself while she’s crying. Normally I would go sit in the rocking chair in her room until she fell asleep, but since it was so late already, I decided to be a top-notch parent and let her play on her phone in bed until she fell asleep. I know, I know, so awful. But…Daenerys!

After our show ended, Eric went to check on her to make sure she had passed out. Yeah, not so much. But at that point she was tired enough to let him take the phone away without complaint. Meanwhile, I moved Liam into our room, skipping the crib altogether because he was still super stuffy. And maybe I missed him in our room. Ok, so I’m having a little separation anxiety. But also, he does legitimately have a cold.

This is all a long-winded intro to what happened this morning, when I realized how ridiculously happy I am. Molly woke up way early at 5 and I heard her get out of bed to come find me. I fetched her from the hall and pulled her into our bed. This commotion woke up Liam, so the three of us hung out in bed together cuddling and talking for the next hour until my alarm went off (“Mommy! It’s the beep beep!”). And for that hour, I was definitely the happiest I’ve ever been.

I’ve talked about this before – nostalgia for the present. Happy moments that are tinged with sad because I know how precious they are and how much I’ll miss them one day. Everything about that hour this morning was so magical… not because it was some special day, but really because it wasn’t a special day. Nothing significant happened. I can’t even remember what we talked about. I do know it involved a lot of baby kisses, giggles, and silly songs. It was a random Tuesday morning that was so normal, but somehow it turned out to be perfect. Do I like waking up an hour before my alarm goes off? Hell no. Would I gladly do it every day if it means having mornings like that? Yes, a thousand times yes.

I’m also often torn in these moments because I don’t know if I should enjoy them or record them. The thing is, I remember thinking I’d never forget how Molly was at each stage, but I do. Going through old videos is so weird because I can only picture her as she is right now. Seeing her as a baby makes me smile, but that’s not the person I picture when I think about her. So long story short, I like having those old videos on hand to remind me of how she used to be. Eventually I did shoot a short video of our morning cuddle fest because I just couldn’t help myself.

And I don’t care if I lose more followers or if this post gets no comments or reactions because it’s too happy. This is just how it is. Right now, today, I’m the happiest I’ve ever been. Not the richest, not the thinnest, not the youngest. Not the least stressed out. Just… happy.

Damn happy.

this about sums it up

this about sums it up

don’t hate me for this post

Seriously, I’m going to sound like a complete asshole but I just have to be honest right now. One day shy of two weeks into parenting two children and I have the following to report: so far, it’s been… easy.

Ridiculously easy.

A friend recently sent me a link to a blog post that was all about adjusting to life with two kids. It was very well written and inspiring, and had gorgeous photos, but in regards to the adjustment… yeah, there really hasn’t been one for me. With the exception of that one overwhelming moment while we were still in the hospital, so far, nothing monumental has happened. In fact, things are better than they were before because, A) I have a sweet new little human to shower with love and kisses and, B) I get to spend a lot more time with my other small human and get to know her even more. Plus, I don’t have to work for 9 weeks and I’m still getting paid. It’s pretty awesome.

Basically, if you are trying to talk yourself or someone you know into a having a second child, give me a call. I’m also available for calming fears about getting your wisdom teeth out (I had a really painless, easy experience with that too).

I was a little nervous about Eric going back to work because that first week, we had naturally split up kid responsibilities – so if he was tending to Molly, I was tending to Liam, and vice versa. But then Monday morning he was gone and I was home alone with both of them and it was still fine.

For one thing, I am exceptionally blessed when it comes to Molly. She is so well-behaved, and so good at entertaining herself when needed. She loves playing with other kids and socializing, but when we are home alone she’s perfectly content to play in her room with her toys, or play with colanders in the kitchen while I’m cooking, or even just stand in the middle of the room and spin around in circles to entertain herself. When I say “no,” she (usually) stops what she’s doing. She’s still not jealous of the baby. She’s seriously the sweetest, most good-natured, mature, self-sufficient, and lovely 17 month old I’ve ever met.

That’s not to say she’s perfect all the time – she does overreact when she doesn’t get her way sometimes, or if something (a toy, her iPhone, etc) doesn’t work the way it’s supposed to. But usually when that happens it’s just an indicator that it’s naptime or bedtime.

As for Liam, he’s your typical 2 week old. He sleeps, eats, poops, and sleeps some more. He’s starting to be awake for longer stretches but for the most part, it’s just a lot of sleeping. One thing that’s different between him and Molly at this age is that he eats more in one sitting and eats less frequently. It’s actually quite convenient because I don’t spend as much time nursing.

One reason I think it’s easier this time around despite the fact that it’s technically more work is that now I have confidence in how to be a mom (momfidence?). Right or not, I feel well-equipped to handle a newborn. I also know exactly what Molly wants and needs.

I’m hosting a holiday cookie exchange this Sunday and all week I’ve been busy preparing for it. More than one friend called me crazy when I scheduled the party, knowing that I’d have these two kids plus all the stress and time that goes into planning a party. I guess I was crazy since I didn’t know what to expect – things could be going the exact opposite of how they are going. But they’re not.

On Monday I completely cleaned out my dining room, which we had been using as a storage area for years but is the only logical place to set up 84 dozen cookies. I hauled crap to the attic and basement, vacuumed, dusted, and reorganized everything, and then followed up by cleaning out and reorganizing the front hall closet and doing the same for underneath the kitchen sink. And that was just by 2pm. I’ve been able to clean every day, and I’ll admit I was a little proud when Eric’s mom said, “I’ve never seen your house so clean” when she stopped by today. I’ve got shit UNDER CONTROL.

On Wednesday I met my sister-in-law and her friends for a coffee date at a cute little place in town I’ve never been to. After that I took Molly to story hour at the library, which I’ve also never been to (because it’s at 11:15 on a Wednesday probably). It was adorable. Life is adorable. I’m sorry. Don’t hate me.

As is probably evident from all the heavy lifting I’ve been doing (literally), my physical recovery has been great this time. I was taking Percocet the first couple days but have since stepped it down to just popping a few ibuprofen occasionally. The area around my incision sometimes hurts when I’m going to bed (which I assume is because I push it too hard during the day, running around like a moron hauling dining room chairs to the attic).

Even taking the kids out grocery shopping wasn’t as difficult as I anticipated it would be. It did take twice as long, mostly because getting into and out of the car was quite a production. I put Molly in the cart like usual and put Liam in the Moby wrap, which worked out really well. Actually, it was my first time using the wrap with him (which did make me feel that familiar second child guilt because he looooved sleeping in it). He is definitely a cuddly little boy and loves being held and kept warm and snuggly. Anyway, it made me feel bad that the kid is almost 2 weeks old and I’ve yet to start with babywearing. I think once this party is over and done I’ll be less obsessive about cleaning and can maybe just relax and snuggle like he wants to. It’s been very mild here in PA this past week, so being out and about has been quite pleasant, but if January is bitter cold I won’t be dragging the little ones out everywhere.

Also, Eric and I have been getting along really well – again, better than normal. The kids and I got home really late from the grocery store the other night because as I mentioned above, shopping definitely does take longer. I walked in the door and of course that was the exact moment Liam needed to eat and it was 6:00 and I hadn’t even started dinner – an elaborate Pinterest meal that had sounded brilliant in the early afternoon but not so much when everyone was hungry and cranky. Without complaint he took up the spatula and cooked the whole meal, which may not sound like a big deal, but he is not normally one for cooking and especially not after working all day. So yeah, marriage is good, kids are good, all is good. I really do feel like something bad is destined to happen because everything is going way too well.

You want to know the most stressful thing in my life right now? Well, two things. And not the two kids.

First – these dogs. These damn dogs. I used to be all judgy towards people who got rid of their dogs after having kids but now I’m starting to get it, especially since I have the neediest dog known to man (that’s Ryder). He has some sort of skin issue that’s been going on for months now and I’m at my wits end. He gets very itchy, sensitive skin whenever the seasons change and this year it’s worse than ever. The itchiness causes him to bite at himself, which leaves his skin raw, bloody, and disgusting. We put a cone on him and he’s literally been wearing it for a month now because he won’t. stop. biting. himself. Every time we think maybe he’s better, we’ll leave the cone off for a few minutes and he’ll rip open all his scabs and do it all over again. Couple that with a few nasty bouts of diarrhea all over the place and some peeing in the kitchen just because he didn’t feel like waiting, and you have one hell of a fun time! (I’ve tried everything for the skin issues – Benadryl, sprays, creams, coconut oil, everything. We haven’t changed his food in years and we don’t allow him to eat human food. So I’m at a total loss for what to do.)

Bird doesn’t have nearly so many issues but he has started peeing on the living room rug daily for no particular reason. Except to ruin my perfect reverie of existence, obviously. We aren’t going to get rid of them because they are part of the family, but they are seriously driving me nuts.

The second point of stress has nothing to do with being unhappy and everything to do with being happy.

I keep reading all these posts urging mothers of young children to cherish every moment, because we will miss them once the kids are grown. Well, I already know that, and my time spent with these kids is so brief that I find myself stressing out over being too happy. For every cute thing Molly does or says, for every moment I catch myself feeling totally content and blissful, I also feel wistful knowing that the moment is fleeting and that they’ll be grown in no time. It’s like I know these are the best days of my life, and I want to hold onto them for as long as I can. I have something known as “nostalgia for the present.” I can’t even enjoy myself half the time because I’m so happy that it makes me sad. Is that totally insane? I already feel crazy enough that I think going from one kid to two is easy because I’ve never come across that reaction before. Sleep deprived, yes. Overwhelmed, yes. But I’ve yet to hear from anyone else having a strangely effortless experience like mine. I can’t be the only one…

I also realize that this two kids thing is bound to get harder. Once they grow up and start bickering, once we throw a third kid into the mix and are outnumbered… it’s not like I think this dreamy happy world can last forever. I mean, it’s going to change a whole lot when I have to go back to work in February. But for now, I’m completely joyful.

It’s pretty great. And I’m 100% grateful.

change of a dress

Today was so much better. I guess that’s just how life is – good days and bad days. You can’t lose all hope during the bad days, and you can’t expect the good days to last forever. You just have to keep breathing, keep living and keep going.

Want to know what really helped? My dress today. As most of you may have noticed, I’ve been lamenting my weight gain over the past couple of months and have been reluctant to buy any new clothes, but I feel awkward and uncomfortable wearing my regular clothes because they don’t fit correctly. My mom did a closet cleaning this weekend and I was able to snag a couple of things from her. My mom: she’s the sort of person who will buy things and forget she has them, resulting in a closet stuffed full of brand-new-with-tags merchandise and unworn shoes. She was finally forced to confront the situation when her closet rod detached from the wall and collapsed from the sheer weight of her dress collection. True story.

Besides having a bunch of brand new stuff, she has a range of sizes spanning from size two to about size sixteen. It was nice, because I snatched up a bunch of stuff that wasn’t quite the right size for her or my sister. It was like going shopping and not spending any money. New clothes (literally) for free? Yes, please!

When I put on my brand new, perfect fit black sheath, Coach heels and chunky funky necklace this morning, I felt a little bit glamorous. And that’s when I realized… I’ve been kind of slacking in the personal maintenance department. Sure, I shower every day and put on makeup and blow dry my hair. But that’s where the effort stops. We have a casual dress code at work, so I can literally wear jeans and a t-shirt every single day. My outfits lately have been just that, with flip flops and maybe a bracelet if I’m feeling adventurous. After work I come home, peel off my comfortable clothes and put an even comfier ensemble of yoga pants and oversized shirts (often Eric’s that I’ve stolen) with a messy bun. It’s not sexy. Sometimes it’s not even presentable. And I do believe that your outfit can make your mood better, and your view of yourself can change your whole day.

I doubt I’m going to start dressing up all the time now, and I still love me some wine and yoga pants at the end of a long day. But still… putting in a little effort today made me realize how much I’ve been neglecting me. The girly, silly, makeup and stilettos version of me. I don’t have kids yet, that’s true. So I’m thinking it’s my time to be a little selfish and even a little vain. And if it boosts my mood in the process, that’s really a good thing. Bring on the dresses and impractical heels.

On the fertility front, I got an email from New Hope today that nearly gave me a heart attack right there at my desk. I assumed that they were emailing me to let me know I was out of the trial, my time was up, it’s been real fun but now it’s done. Of course it didn’t actually say that. They asked if I was getting a hysteroscopy (Dr. L mentioned that last time) and also inquired about my well-being. Then at the end they said to “let them know when I’m ready to move forward.”

What an uplifting email, right? See, they don’t normally communicate with me at all. This proves that they still want to keep me around, which helps to ease my worrying mind. On top of that, my friend at work (the same dear soul who suggested clinical trials in the first place) found a Reproductive Immunologist who, according to some quick research, does free Skype consults. FREE! I’ve yet to call or investigate what that entails, but it sure beats $900. At the very least, it gives me a little bit of hope for right now.

So, to sum up – I’m less worried about starting up treatments again (when I’m ready, of course), today I was all, “Damn, I feel like a woman” in my new dress and tomorrow I leave for vacation. My mood is better. My outlook is sunnier. It’s been a pretty good day.