I Had A Bad Reaction To Your Public Hobby Writing

There are so many people on this planet.  So many.  Over 7 billion now, and that is mind blowing!  What worries me about all of these people, are they things that they say and believe.  Most people say somewhat normal things, and they don’t really irk my nerves, but then some people say things and all I can think about is punching them in the throat.  I’m not a violent person, normally, but people saying horrible, idiotic, bigoted, hurtful things based on pure nonsense is damaging not only to my brain cells, but to all the people in the world who are easily influenced into believing whatever they are told, as long as someone has a fancy blog to write it on.  (Notice that my blog is not fancy, so you can trust me!)

Here it is, plain and simple, Matt Walsh is a horrible role model.  I’ll admit that I loved some of his earlier stuff.  Like, when he said that people should put their carts back at the grocery store.  Right on!  I can get behind that!  I hate pulling into a parking spot to find a cart blocking it.  First world problems, right?  But some of his newer “work” has mentioned things such as parents of a transgender girl who should be considered abusers because there is no way that a child could know they are a different gender, that gay couples could never have marriage equality because they could never be equal, seeing as how they do not have the ability to make babies, and I believe I read something about how suicide is the most cowardly thing you could ever do, but I think my rage blacked out my memory on that one.  The suicide one was written right after Robin Williams killed himself.  Mr. Walsh claimed that he was also sad and has battled depression, but that he never killed himself… blah blah blah.  Here is the deal, you can NEVER know what someone is going through.  Ever.  I will never know every thought my husband has no matter how many hours, days, or years I spend talking to him.  So if you can sit there and judge someone who has suffered from substance abuse, a life of depression, and a diagnoses of Parkinson’s disease, then you are no someone that should not be spouting your word vomit all over the internet for all the other haters out there.

These types of people spew hatred and keep our world from evolving and growing with love and tolerance for everyone.  I hate to break it to some of you, but homosexual people have existed since the beginning of time (and not the beginning of Biblical time, but actual time).  They are not new, and they are not here to destroy the world, or ruin your marriage, or, I don’t know, whatever else some of you think they do (dance too good?).  They are only who they are, who they were born, and it’s not a lot to ask of you to get over yourselves as the supreme couples and see that they just love each other.  They aren’t doing anything wrong by loving each other.  They deserve to have their love recognized, just as you do.  They deserve to raise children, take them to Disney, dance at their weddings.  As soon as you can get over your prejudice and your “ickies” (which I assume is what you have a serious case of) then we can all live happily ever after and focus on truly horrible things in our world that need to be taken care of.  Like, staving children, cancer, climate change (yes, I’m also one of those).  We have to put our energy into helping, not hurting.  Hate breeds hate.  Let’s breed love, and lots of it!

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A Big House

I grew up in a tiny house.  Some would call it a trailer, but I’ve never understood why it is important to distinguish.  It was a single wide (meaning itty bitty), had two bedrooms, two bathrooms, a living room and a kitchen.  That was it.  We actually had one bedroom that was so full of crap (did I mention that our house had no storage whatsoever?) that my parents didn’t even sleep in there, they slept on the couch.  They (still) have a huge sectional sofa and each side is long enough for a sleeping adult.  It worked well for them because my dad is ascared of burglars.  So our family of four lived in a house with no room to roam.  You could hear everyone anywhere.  There was almost no privacy, unless you locked yourself in the bathroom (which I did quite frequently), and we all lived to tell the tale.  I wouldn’t call it ideal, but I wouldn’t call it the worst thing in the world either.  So that brings me to my real reason for writing this post…

I am tired of the gigantic houses, and I am guilty of living in one.  I’m not saying this to brag, quite the opposite actually, I say this because I am ashamed.  Not ashamed that my husband and I have done well enough in life to be able to live in a big house, but I am ashamed that I felt this size house was necessary.  As our neighborhood expands, I walk down the street and I see thousands of trees that are marked for death.  They have to go down to make room for the new houses.  Birds sing in the branches that, in just a few days, will no longer exist, except in a pile of tree dust that will line our perfectly formed flower beds.  The squirrels race each other around the trunks, playing in the only place they’ve ever known, not knowing that soon they will be re-homed, or worse, killed during the clearing.  These animals, these trees, they all die because of us.  Us humans who need 3,000 square foot houses, with big front yards, large driveways, and even bigger backyards for our dogs.  How could we possibly live without a walk-in closet?  What would we do without our loft, our playroom, our kitchen with counter space enough to hold  feast for 50?  What would happen if we didn’t have a huge soaker tub and two sinks?  Without our large garages, we may have to park on the street!  I have all of these things, yet it makes me sick to think about the things that are destroyed because of it.  And to see that our house is the smallest in the neighborhood at 2,700 sqft, it blows my mind.  This is too much house for anyone, especially our small family of three.

Why do we, as a society, continue to think that bigger is better?  People used to live in houses that were smaller than my little trailer I just described.  And this was when there was plenty of land, and A LOT less people.  (Fun fact, did you know that in the past 24 years, the earths population has grown by over 2 billion people?  From just over 5 billion to now (last I heard) to 7.3 billion?  Learned that from a book I love called A Last Chance To See, a book that probably spurred this post).  Why have we suddenly decided that our children need to have a bedroom, a play room, and a loft?  I had a bedroom that I shared with my sister (not that that was ever ideal) and I had outside.  But we can’t just send our kids outside anymore, especially not in these huge neighborhoods.  People drive too fast, or snatch kids off the street.  I try not to be paranoid, but every time I see a small kid (5-10 years old) riding his bike down the street alone, I get queasy.  But why?  My friends and I used to walk around our neighborhoods from sun up to sun down, and I’m not that old either (30 – eek).  Why is it that even though we live in these too huge neighborhoods, with their too huge price tags, that we are still afraid of bad people?  It just shows that a bigger house and more money are not the answer in life.  It doesn’t bring you peace of mind, it doesn’t bring you added security.  What it does is bring you more space to clean inside your home, more chances to wonder if your child is safe when she crawls out of your site, more silence from your spouse who is not only in another room, but on another floor.  It is separating us from our families and ourselves.  Sometimes I cannot sleep because I’m thinking about all the things that need to be cleaned, that I most likely will never get to, because why?  We don’t even use those rooms!

I think the destruction of the woods, forests, and lands is getting overwhelming.  I see it daily in our town, because our town is growing by the thousands each year.  The demand for housing continues to rise, and the houses must be huge!  The trees must ALL come down to make way for the screened in porches, patios, and outdoor fireplaces.  The plants who thrive must be dug up and tossed into the street for the street sweeper (yes, we have one of those), to make way for pretty plants who won’t come back up next year.  For plants who are deer resistant, because why should we feed the animals who inhabit our area?  Why are they still even here?  Shoo, you annoying creatures, do you even have a home anymore?

I know there is no way to stop this need.  This desire for the biggest and the best.  I know this, mainly, because I walk down the street with the 6,00 sqft houses, and I begin to drool.  They’re all brick, they have wrap around porches, two decks, three car garages, and I want that.  I ask myself why, and don’t have an answer other than “it’s pretty”.  That’s not good enough.  We have to stop destroying so much just so our houses can be HGTV worthy.  We have to consider the planet, and the fact that tearing down acres and acres of trees is not going to be healed by us planting one tree by the sidewalk in front of each house.  That tree is not going to support the life of all the animals, it’s not even going to support the life of us if this trend continues.  We have to start worrying about what we are doing in the name of luxury, in the name of pretty, in the name of I gotta have it all, because once we’ve taken it all….

Like/Dislike

This might be the first of many posts with a like/dislike listing system.  I have a lot of time to think about things I like as a mommy/wife/human, while I am reading the same book to E for the 105th time in an hour.  So, here I go…

 

I like this thing…

Aquatopia (your knees are messed up already from crawling around on the floor all day) bath mat kneeler
Aquatopia your knees are messed up already from crawling around on the floor all day bath mat kneeler

This bath mat has seriously saved my life.  Okay, so, I recently realized how important knees are.  I know, you assume they are important because of the walking and kicking and stuff, but you don’t really and truly understand how important they are until one of them isn’t working properly.  Since I have had a knee injury for the past three weeks, there is no way I would have been able to do bath time without this thing.  I guess I could have folded up a towel and put it under my knee, but this is better.  Get one.

 

I dislike diapers.

Yes, that’s right, I’m mad at diapers.  All diapers.  Disposable, cloth, overnight, I don’t care, you all suck lately.  Well, okay, the Target diapers aren’t so bad, but the cloth and the overnight diapers are not my friends right now.  Why do you keep leaking??  We were doing so well, cloth.  I’d put you on her while she took a nap and it would save me 1-2 diapers a day.  That could be up to 14 diapers a week!  If you multiply that by 52 weeks, you get a number.  Now, every time I put one of you on her, you leak.  And I’m not sure if you’ve teamed up with the overnight diapers to ruin my entire world, but those are leaking every night too!  What the hell, guys.  I thought we had a deal?  I pay money for you, and you do your damn job!  No more leaks, this is your final warning.  Don’t make me buy more of you and suffer through it because there is no other alternative!  I’ll do it!!

 

I like splitting mac and cheese.

Emmy loves mac and cheese.  The old fashioned Kraft kind, which happens to be mommy’s favorite.  We eat it at least once a week, and I get to blame eating it on her.  “I didn’t have time to make anything else after I made hers!”  Ah, it’s brilliant!  I get to eat like I’m five again (or a college student).  I wonder what I’ll do when she’s too old or too cool for mac and cheese?  I guess I’ll have to own up to loving it like an adult.  Until then….

 

I love this thing…

Mommy's Special Helper
Mommy’s Special Helper

Some mommies out there may know this as an “idiot box,” as it has come to the attention of the world that TV’s make children stupid.  I know quite a few of you types of mommies, and I just want to say that I don’t judge you one bit.  The world is a strange place with the ability to Google and hear every single persons opinion on every single thing on the planet.  It’s exhausting, and if the world says no TV until three, well then by God that is what you will do.  After all, you’d hate for your child to turn out as horribly stupid as you.  You watched way too much TV as a child, and now look at you, barely able to function in life without driving your car off a cliff, or set the house on fire, or forgetting to feed the dog for two weeks.  Wait…

This magic box lets me do a few things (every now and then, since E is only interested if someone is singing or dancing).  It let’s me do dishes, go pee, let the dogs out, and, on occasion, eat food.  If I could give this thing a hug, or a back rub, or a glass of wine, I’d do it.  Gladly.  Sesame street, and for some reason Ellen, help mommy get things done.  Bonus points for E because mommy also loves Ellen.  More bonus points because Ellen does not feature Elmo.

 

I Live In A Fog of Exhaustion…

This is what I told my husband last night, after he said he wasn’t surprised with how many injuries I’ve had lately since, as he said, “you are always exhausted”.  He’s right, although I hate to admit complete defeat when I only have one small child, and some of your out there have three, four, five…. (I honestly don’t know how you do it.  Do you have back-up batteries implanted somewhere?)  I have to just come out and own up to the fact that I am run down.  Constantly tired, constantly aching, and constantly longing to spend more than three minutes at a time sitting on the couch.  I mean, I really want to sit on the couch and have no responsibilities.  A lot.  I find myself staring at the couch, longing to sit on it and rest my aching butt.  My butt, which is constantly grinding it’s protruding bones into the hardwood floors for ten hours a day.  My back aches from picking up a 20 something pound toddler all day, or leaning over to hold her hands as she walks.  My knee, which I pulled something in two weeks ago is still swollen, and on occasion will give out and cause a searing amount of pain.  It also hurts at night while I try to sleep, unless I dose myself with Aleve before bed.  My foot, which I injured over two months ago, still hurts, especially in the morning after it’s been resting all night.  I’ve never had injuries for this long.  I usually heal quite quickly, but my body just doesn’t have it in it anymore, and I know it’s only going to get worse as she is more on the move.

So what’s the solution?  Is there a solution?  Do I continue to suffer through it, pop pills, and ice my aching parts as often as possible, or do I call in backup, even though it makes me feel like a total waste of a mommy.  My in-laws live nearby now, and they love watching E, but it always makes me feel guilty when I need their help because they never had help when they were raising their boys.  If they had had help would they have used it?  I guarantee it!  But they didn’t have that helped, and they survived.  So why can’t I?

I need to heal.  I need to feel confident walking up and down stairs while holding my daughter.  I need to not have to take Aleve every night.  (I hate taking drugs if I can possibly help it).  I need to eat better, and start taking a vitamin again (maybe that will help combat a bit of the exhaustion).  I need to keep working on things for my Etsy shop (and upcoming craft festival).  I need to vacuum, and wash dishes, and do laundry, and dust, and get E out of the house to socialize with kids her age.

I wonder if I ever thought that being a stay at home mom was easy.  I can’t remember ever thinking that, but it probably happened.  I mean, all they do all day is watch tv and eat goldfish, right??

 

 

Check Out My Story!

Today and tomorrow I will be featured as a guest post over at Valerie’s blog AtlantaMomOfThree.  Today will be my story of growing up with PCOS and not knowing it!  Tomorrow’s post will include my story of trying to conceive and how that eventually lead to my diagnoses.  

I hope you enjoy my story, and also enjoy Valerie’s blog!  

What Do You Think? Back vs Tummy: The Sleep Conundrum

Just to make things clear, I have no plans on letting little miss sleep on her belly.  If she chooses to sleep on her belly sometime in the future, when she is able to easily roll from belly to back with no issues, then that is great for her, but for now I will always make sure that she is on her back or side.

…but I was thinking, why do all the grandparents keep telling me that we (me, my sister, my husband, my husbands brother) slept through the night at six weeks, or two months, or “definitely by three months!”  Why am I constantly feeling like I have a baby that just loves to be awake every three hours and will never ever ever sleep longer?  Well, then I started thinking about how my generation was put on their tummies to sleep.  This really sparked something in the dark, tired part of my brain that doesn’t get much action anymore.  When babies are put onto their tummies, they are better able to get gas out.  I know just from the past week of “super catch-up tummy time” that as soon as she is on her belly, she burps and poots like a mad woman.  Even if I’ve just spent the past ten minutes burping her, she will still let loose as soon as she’s on her belly.  So this is my theory, babies sleep better on their bellies because they are getting that gas out.  They aren’t uncomfortable, their bellies don’t hurt, they don’t want to get up and nurse to ease their belly pain.

Again, I would never let Emmy sleep on her belly until she is old enough to roll herself over, but what if this is the reason our parents keep telling us that we slept so much better?  Maybe they aren’t just being annoying.  Maybe they aren’t just trying to make us feel like we are doing something wrong.  Maybe, just maybe, the way we were put to sleep helped us sleep better and longer sooner JUST because of the gas issues.  Maybe this is why reflux and spitting up issues are rampant now.  I’d much rather be up a few times a night with her than to ever increase the risk of SIDS…. no question about it, but what if?

Just a thought…

BlahBlahBlog

This is how I feel when I think about blogging lately, which is sad and weird.  I used to love getting a few minutes to jump on here and tell you all about my life and the fun things going on in it.  Now I just feel like everything is too much the same to really write anything interesting.  I’m not here to bore you, I’m here to entertain and educate.  So until I can really do that and feel good about it, I will probably be missing for chunks of time.  For now, I will update you on the small things going on around here.

We moved little miss into a pack and play in our room.  I got the comfy quilted sheet to go in it, and she apparently really likes it.  She is now able to sleep on her side, which I had no clue she even wanted to do, and she sleeps for longer chunks of time.  Of course, writing this makes sure that the luck we’ve been having will surely end, but I wanted to let you all know that pack and plays can be made comfortable and doable for a transition between bassinet and crib!

After our doctor appointment last week, I was a bit frazzled.  I took the rest of the day to relax with little miss and the following day we started with some mandatory tummy time.  She has been doing pretty well.  She can get her head off the floor for a few seconds at a time, but she is lifting her arms and legs at the same time.  Only her belly is on the ground.  It’s pretty cute, but it frustrates her and wears her out.  I’m sure she will eventually understand that arms are for pushing up, but so far she is just trying to get her head up.  She is also trying to roll over onto her back.  ANYTHING to get off her belly!  I’m not sure how she is going to roll over without hurting her shoulder….  I mean, all babies learn to do it, but it looks like she is going to break her arm off!  So far we are doing short spurts of tummy time, and I am helping her roll over when she gets close.  She is such a little trooper, and is trying so hard.  I am very proud of her!

If she continues to strengthen her core, and can sit up okay by five months, then she can start cereal.  Not sure if I will do that, I may wait until six months, but it is tempting!  I am so ready to get her started on some pureed foods!  So exciting!

That’s all for now!  Going to go snuggle my girl!  It was 39 degrees when we woke up this morning.  Miserably cold, but great for snuggling!

Four Month Wellness Check & Mastitis

Today we had our four month wellness check.  It was exciting to see how much she’s grown.  I’m not sure if everyone else gets as excited about finding out what percentile their littles ones are in, but I think it’s just about the coolest thing ever.  So little Miss Emmy is currently 10th percentile weight (12lbs 2oz), 50% percentile length (24.5″), and 90th percentile head! That is a huge noggin we’ve got here!  She is growing along the curve quite nicely though.

Now, the bad.  Since she is not yet lifting herself up during tummy time, and cannot sit up on her own yet, we are getting really low motor skill levels.  So low, in fact, that the doctor wants us to be referred to a specialist that will come to our house and work with her.  She gave us the chance to work with her for the next two months to improve.  If she’s not doing better by next time, it’s on to the specialist.  If you could measure my level of mommy fail, it would be the highest possible score.  I feel like a complete failure, like I’m letting her down.  Why haven’t I been pushing her more on tummy time?  She hates it, yes, but I guess I should have just been letting her cry through it.  Although, the last doctor we had said that as long as she is working on lifting herself off our chests, she was doing fine.  I guess that only counted for up to two months?  Ugh, so sad.  Sad mommy.

She got two shots and one oral vaccine today.  So far I haven’t had to give her Tylenol.  It’s been almost six hours since the shots, which is longer than she went last time, so maybe she won’t need it this time?  Right now she is peacefully sleeping in my lap.

The doctor thinks we should try a couple things with her sleeping.  1.  Putting her down drowsy.  Pssh.  If this girl gets set down even a little awake, she flails around and cries.  It’s a nice thought, and I’d love to be able to do that so she can learn to self soothe, but so far… pssh.  2.  Let her cry it out.  Waaah.  Mommy isn’t ready for such things.  Daddy thinks it might be a good idea, but he doesn’t get as sad as mommy does.  I know something has to give.  I don’t want her dependent on the boob to fall asleep her whole life.  Especially since my “wean by date” is sometime in July or August of next year, but I’m just not sure what to do about it yet.  The thought of bad sleep nights makes me want to cry… especially since…

I have mastitis!!  Sumbitch!  There wasn’t even a warning blocked duct to signal the oncoming storm.  *sigh* Saturday night I stood up to go upstairs and my breast felt like someone had been punching it continuously for hours and hours.  I immediately knew what was happening.  There was no knot like there is with a blocked duct.  After a restless night of trying to sleep with a painful boob, I checked it out in the mirror as soon as I woke up.  Yep, red.  Not to mention feeling like I’d been hit by a bus.  It all added up.  At 3:00 I went to Urgent Care and got my antibiotics.  Four times a day for ten days.  Wowzah!  Here’s hoping it goes away quickly!  Ain’t nobody got time for Mastitis!  Especially when they have a baby that needs super extra double time help to get to a more normalized level of motor skills.  I think it’s super unfair to judge her on her skill level just because she doesn’t lift her head up yet.  How do they expect a 10th percentile body weight baby to hold up a 90th percentile head!?  Rude!

*Sad Mama* *Pout*